Next chapter. Thanks for your responses. Don't know what I would do without the readers who leave feedback. Probably this sequel wouldn't even exist. So thanks again. You make the story and the translations go on! Will be back at Thursday, as always. Yours Jenna

Translated by: Jenna

Beta read by: Lucretiareadsall

States of Mind

"Feelings know more than the mind fathoms."

Erhard Horst Bellermann, (* 1937)

Force was not necessarily always the right way to get a problem under control – that much he knew when he was not only holding the broken screw of the rear wheel of his bicycle in his hand, but also had to be on the receiving end of a bleeding, painful bruise on his knuckles. And anger was not necessarily the best response to deal with this adversity, yet he could not do anything against it as he grabbed in a rage the damned, rickety thing of a bike and threw it away, as far as his small arms were able to manage. It rattled loud, pliant soil and grass soared, but that was not enough. He made two steps after, swung his foot and kicked the bike, kicked with his solid, freshly polished boots against the cursed wheel, once, twice, three times, until it was all bent and this burning in his eyes, the pressure in his chest subsided slightly.

This horrible, ugly, treacherous thing… it had let him down, just when he needed it so urgently.

Drive away, that was what he had wanted to do, as far away as possible from the adults, from Mum and Dad, their friends and from him… Him, who was every bit as treacherous as this bicycle, which he had bequeathed to him a few weeks ago.

He wiped a tear from his cheek in an angry gesture and snuffled, took a deep breath, looking critically at the damage he had just caused. Steps along the sandy way behind him made him spin around. The pressure in his chest grew once again and he turned quickly back to his bike, acted quite busy. The traitor… He did not even need to come here. Could disappear immediately to where it dragged him so magically…

"Mum worries a bit about what you're doing here all alone, Mick," he was able to hear his voice, and pressed his lips together grimly. He would not breathe a word.

"She was afraid that you might run away. Dad only just managed to keep her from looking for you…"

"So what?" Mick grabbed the bike and put it rudely onto its now indeed very wobbly wheels. He perceived that Tristan stepped closer to him, now also examining the bike, and knew exactly what he would say.

"How did that happen?"

Mick avoided looking up to his brother, instead he stared as if hypnotized at the elegant eight he had made of the wheel, and pressed his lips more firmly together. That he was betraying everything with this behavior he knew full well, but he could not help it.

"I got it," he could hear Tristan say after a little while. "There had to be probably something innocent to absorb blows… for me, right?"

Damn it, why did his eyes just start to burn again?

"This…this has nothing to do with you!" Mick snapped and let the stupid thing just fall down again. "This is just crap! A stupid, old scrapheap!"

He now looked at Tristan after all, lifted his chin defiantly and glared at him angrily. "You can even take it to your new friends. The people of the Academy can for sure repair everything!" His voice broke slightly at the end of the sentence, but that didn't matter to Mick at this moment. This was only the anger, only the anger…

Tristan actually looked a bit hurt, as he stood there in his new pair of knickerbockers, his bright knee highs and the elegant white Sunday shirt and tie. Like an adult…

When did he become so old? Where had his big brother gone, the one who frolicked around with him through the garden and imagined the wildest games in the holidays, when they had all the time in the world?

The burning in his eyes became stronger again and Mick turned quickly around, tried to get the trembling of his chin under control by simply biting firmly on the inside of his lip and ignoring this hard lump in his stomach that appeared to grow steadily.

"I… I understand that you're mad at me," Tristan now started gently. "I did not want you to learn this today. Not this way. I wanted to tell it to you in person, while fishing or something else… but Dad…"

He broke off. A little later, Mick felt a hand on his shoulder, could do nothing against Tristan turning him around to face him.

"Mick, look at me!"

Mick shook his head, blinked as tears were filling his eyes, which he did not want to cry in any case. He was so angry! Why did he have to cry when he was angry?

"It doesn't make any sense that you get all worked up about your stubbornness and rage! You can talk to me! We could always talk to each other yet."

Yes, but not now. Now you are just walking away and leaving me alone…

"I know you're sad. But I'll come home every other weekend and also during the holidays I will…"

"I'm not sad!" it now burst out of Mick and the surprised face of his brother's instantly blurred before his eyes, cleared only a little when one, two tears ran down Mick's cheeks, which he immediately wiped from his face as if they were something terribly disgusting. "I… I'm just angry!"

"I see," Tristan replied in this big-brotherly tone that Mick hated so much sometimes.

"…at… at this stupid bike!"

Tristan nodded. "And even more with me," he added sympathetically.

Mick gritted his teeth. He felt this terrible words which wanted to squeeze out of him, felt how unfair they were and yet they didn't want to disappear.

"I just want you to know that I will miss you too, lil bro," Tristan said and his gaze became very soft and loving, as he raised a hand and stroked through Mick's short, curly hair, which simply hadn't wanted to be skimmed into a smooth Sunday-side-parting and once again stood in all directions. "And I'll definitely not forget you! I'll write to you as often as I can and…"

Mick hit off the hand, that had caressed him so consolingly, full of rage and pushed with both his hands against his brother's chest with such a force that he staggered backwards a few steps in surprise.

"I hate you!" it burst out of him with a sob. He tossed around and ran towards the house, while the world around him became a vague mixture of colors and dark outlines. He did not want to cry and sob, but the pain in his heart was at once so strong that he could not help it, that he even started to stumble and finally fell down. He struggled to his feet with shaking, bloody knees, wanted to run on, but suddenly there was a tall, dark figure before him, held him and bent down to him.

"Slowly, young man," his father's deep voice got through to him.

"Let…let me…" Mick sobbed and tried to free himself from his father's firm grip. But he was just too strong, held his arms with both hands.

"Michael, calm down," he said with a certain severity in his voice. "You don't go anywhere in this state! You'll just do something stupid."

Mick tried to get a grip on his sobs, to breathe steadier, but it was so damn hard. His gaze wandered over his father's hairy underarm, roamed as so often before to his large hand and stopped at the wide silver ring of his index finger, focused on the cross and the blue stone that lay hidden beneath it.

"Stupid… stupid bike," he brought out haltingly, and now raised his tear-dimmed eyes.

"Bike, yeah?" his father probed and his bluish gray, sometimes greenish sparkling eyes looked at him intently. He shook his head very slightly and let out a soft sigh. "Why do you need to be so alike me in this respect?" he murmured softly, and did something he hadn't done for a long time and what Mick would have never expected: he drew him into his arms and hugged him very tightly to him, as if he did not want to let go of him ever again.

Any resistance broke down in Mick at once and he clung to his father and began to cry unrestrained, let out his grief about the impending loss of his beloved brother, let out all the despair and fear that had accumulated in his narrow chest and squeezed his heart so painfully.

He felt his father stroking his hair, gently and compassionately. "What we do isn't good for us, Michael," he could hear him say softly, and the vibration of his chest was something immensely reassuring. "To repress feelings that are so powerful and seated so deeply… that… only damages us, believe me. And it hurts the people we love. Because we're unfair and hurt them, even if we don't want to…"

Mick felt his father's hands now on his shoulders, felt slightly pushed away by him and looked up into his so unusually gentle face, which looked at him full of love. They were alike, he had said, and for the first time in his life Mick noticed that his father also had the same eyes as he had.

"You're still so young," he said softly now. "You must not make the same mistakes as I. Tell your brother what you feel, what you're afraid of and what you want from him. Talk to him! And don't lock yourself somewhere! He will understand you. He loves you so much. But if you don't open your mouth, no one can help you. Not today, nor in twenty years."

Mick looked thoughtfully at his father for a long time and finally he nodded, without knowing whether he had indeed understood him rightly.

Certain manners were quite difficult to doff. It was as if you were moving on tracks that had no points and always lead into a direction you didn't want to go to. And if you once had a certain tempo, it was quite difficult to stop, even if you knew that you could overrun other people that meant something to you and hurt them quite pretty.

Gabriel had been able to brake Mick's drift into even more fights and anger, but to counter his tendency to isolate himself, to hide his feelings and his soft, vulnerable side from others was damn hard and something that nobody could divest him of. Quite apart from the fact that he did not want anyone to do so. He had to do it himself, had to find a better way to cope with his fears and worries. The way he behaved at the moment, he could barely stand himself. Thereby it was not really that hard to apologize at least to one of the persons who had had to suffer under his behavior in the past hours, for she sat opposite to him in this little compartment and virtually asked him to seek contact with her with her insecure gazes wandering again and again over to him.

And what did he do? Avoided her every time, looked somewhere else, just not into her direction. Even if there was really nothing in this compartment, which was even close to gaining his interest – except for Gabriel perhaps. But the old vampire had delved into a newspaper and did not seem to be after a conversation or something else alike this.

As many times before Mick looked absently at the broad ring on his right index finger, which felt so strangely heavy to him sometimes, turned it a few times around and wondered if he perhaps had ultimately even become like his father. A person to whom it had been incredibly difficult to show his feelings openly, to show the people he loved what they meant to him. Even if there had been frequent moments when they both had come closer to each other, where they had hugged and forgiven each other, Mick's relationship with his father had always been complicated and full of unspoken thoughts and feelings. At some point there had been a big bang and both hadn't spoken to each other anymore for more than two years.

No, 'at some point' was wrong. Mick knew exactly when and why it had happened. In 1952 he had, according to his father, made the biggest mistake of his life. He had married Coraline. That his father had been totally right with his assumption that this woman would break him, Mick had not been able to anticipate at the time of the dispute. It had been unforgivable to him that his father had not come to the wedding and had sent only his mother. But even more unforgivable had been his early death only two years after that event, for it had defrauded Mick of what he had longed for, for months, but out of false pride had never been able to force himself to do - a talk. And yet this man had in the end of his life been able to still show him how much he had loved him; with his last words, written in a long letter to him he had been able to at least eliminate a big part of the feeling of only having been one big disappointment to his father. And he had bequeathed him the ring, the ring that had suddenly gained so much importance to him...

More than ever, Mick asked himself how many secrets besides his serious illness his father had probably had, what burdens he had taken with him to the grave. And like many times before he was aware that he in no case wanted to become like him - never satisfied, never really relaxed, never at peace with himself.

His father's warning words, Mick had been forced to hear repeatedly in the course of his life as he had grown into a young man, had made sure that Mick had acquired deliberately to be honest and direct to most people, to say what he thought, to show what he felt and to enjoy life to the fullest and with all senses. Only his deepest feelings he had still not let out that often, those which made him vulnerable and weak.

His marital drama with Coraline and the transformation into a vampire had then changed everything again. Just at that time it had again started: the sealing off, the closing up, the replacing of grief and despair through anger and aggression. He had learned in a hard school with Coraline. Never before had another person been able to cause him such emotional pain, never before had anyone succeeded in racking his nerves so much and in doing so almost bringing him to the verge of madness. His deep, almost pathological love for her had made him the victim of her attacks, the plaything of her moods. And yet he had never really gotten away from her. Instead, he had been forced to learn again to hide certain emotions, not to show weakness and to always be on guard. As time drew on, it had become more and more difficult for him to trust other people and to open to them. He had changed little by little, had hidden his humanity, his soft side more and more from the outside world and had also become inwardly cooled, truncated.

Until she had appeared. This incredibly strong, beautiful woman who radiated all he had always longed for: warmth, security, honesty, love... so much love. There hadn't been one person in his previous life who had touched his heart of hearts so deeply and had not only reawakened his spirits but had also made him incredibly strong and at the same time frightening weak. Currently, she only needed to look at him and his emotions began to overflow, made him so human and vulnerable, helpless delivered to his longing for her closeness. He was consumed by her warmth, her encouragement, her mental strength and at the same time felt such an enormous resistance to any approach from her side, that he sometimes had the feeling of being torn apart inside.

He didn't understand himself. He had thought that everything would be easier if he returned. That such mixed feelings would develop in his heart he had not expected. Of course, they had been there before, before this… time. But he had always shifted this onto his concern for her, his fear to harm her in any way – which was still there. But deep in his heart he knew that this was not the real reason why he especially now repeatedly showed this strong tendency to retreat from her. She had once said that he was afraid of being hurt and then she had probably been on the right track. But the feeling inside him that now fought against his love to her, was so much stronger, more urgent, panicked, and he just could not really understand it, grab it, didn't know what it was and what he could do about it, because it hid from the tentative grip of his own mind.

How could he explain to Beth what was going on inside him when he had no words for it, when he himself did not know why he behaved so contradictory? Or maybe it was really only about this matter, this incident in the nightclub, he could not forget that easily and which evoked this queasy feeling in his stomach... That was it ... probably had to be it...

A slight jolt that went through the compartment told him that the train arrived at the next station, and as every time it did, the tension inside Mick grew a little and caused that his senses sharpened to perceive suspicious things as soon as possible. He felt that Gabriel did the same, though he outwardly lifted his head with a completely relaxed expression and gave him a small, very reassuring smile.

It still felt strange to have such an intense energetic connection with a person he knew only for such a short time, that he was even able to sense every subtle change in the old vampire's interior. Gabriel had indeed explained to him that this 'reading' of moods was only possible if the other one let it happen and that way indirectly sent his feelings out, but Mick still didn't feel that comfortable in his skin, because he did not know exactly whether the old vampire could not still sense what feelings assailed Mick when he thought of Beth and their current communication difficulties.

Mick turned his gaze to the door immediately when he felt that someone was approaching it. A little later it opened and Malik came in, with this for him so typical serious, almost expressionless face.

He spoke a few Arabic words with Gabriel and then disappeared again silently. Mick knitted his brows questioningly and also Beth looked at the old vampire attentively.

"It all seems to be peaceful," he said with a small smile. "You can relax again."

Mick leaned synchronously with Beth back into his seat and could not prevent that a little smile in her direction escaped him as their eyes met. The delighted gleam in her eyes showed him how much she had waited for him finally showing a positive reaction to her and he felt a little sting in his chest. Why was he sometimes such an egregious asshole?

Mick noticed that Gabriel watched them both amused and promptly lowered his eyes, looked at his fingers in more detail. He shook his head at himself internally. If he went on like this, Beth would certainly soon be quite angry with him. And with reason. But for now he just could not get out of his skin, although he wanted to so strongly, because this tension between them, this enforced distance, tormented him at least as much as her. For over four weeks, he longed now so painfully for her proximity, wanted to finally feel her again in every imaginable way. And what did he do? He stood in his own way again! Could not bring himself to forget what he had done to her in the back rooms of the club. Could not extrude this painful sound, the taste of her fear and concern in her blood... in her sweet, warm, wonderful blood...

Mick clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth tightly. There he was again, this greedy blood sucker who could never get enough, and no matter how much blood he had fed to himself, he was only thirsting for her blood. It had been bad enough when they had still been in Mexico, but now, after this happening in the nightclub, it had reached a new climax. Something had changed. Her blood had at once a completely different taste, tasted as if it was only made for him, was only matched to his needs and he could not get enough of it. So it had even surprised him that the vampire in him had not resisted to let go of her again, to pull his teeth out of this delicate neck, for the temptation had been so great, the satisfaction so incredibly profound. Surprisingly it had not even cost him much strength, because something, a voice in his subconscious mind had let him know that it had been enough, and the vampire had listened to it without further ado, had become very tired and sleepy, so that his human side had quickly regained the control over his body.

But now the appetite was back, was inspired by his thoughts and supported by his instincts. Gabriel had told him during their time together again and again that he had to be more patient with himself, had urgently to learn to trust his body again and give it the time it needed to regenerate. It was important that his body got after a transformation the possibility to restore the balance between his human and his vampire side on its own, without the use of medicaments. Only patience was something that Mick had never had in a particularly high degree, and now that Beth was back in his vicinity, it was worse than ever. His newly acquired respect for his own immense powers, the feeling of power and control was swept away as soon as he only looked at her. It had no value anymore. He just wanted to get back into a more humane condition with a vengeance, just so that he could approach her without risk, so that this relaxed, anxiety-free manner with each other could develop again which he had enjoyed so much in Mexico. But his body didn't want to obey, was so slow and reluctant...

Mick almost winced as Beth cleared her throat, but had to find that she wanted to gain Gabriel's attention and not his.

"Don't you want to ask Malik if he wants to relax once and join us," she asked cautiously, when the old vampire looked at her with a benevolent smile, and now Mick ventured yet again to focus his eyes on her. This red hair still confused him a bit, but it was her face, the face he sometimes had to reawaken in his mind to banish other images...

"Oh, he rests yet," Gabriel replied with a smile. "To Malik it would be a much bigger pain to sit around and do nothing. He relaxes only when he is in motion."

Beth nodded, as if she knew what he was talking about and Mick frowned. It was not quite clear to him how far Beth had had real contact with this withdrawn man. He had been commissioned to protect her... and what else?

"Does he come from Saudi Arabia?" Beth asked now clearly curious. Probably only because she felt no desire to sit around quietly in silence anymore. But still her interest bothered Mick a little, although he could not really admit it to himself.

Gabriel's smile became a little wider. "Originally from Syria, but he already had a home anywhere in the world..."

"At your side?" Beth probed and the old vampire let out a little laugh.

"Is that the subtle attempt to find out whether I have made him a vampire?"

Beth did not answer immediately. Her lips twisted into this charming, caught in the act smile that Mick loved so much.

"Perhaps," she replied finally and the red of her cheeks became slightly darker.

"My whole life long I've always been very cautious in dealing with my blood, Beth," said Gabriel. "There were only a few people I've deemed worthy of it, who I believed to deserve it. And often enough I was still mistaken. Some decisions I must still regret today. For Malik's turning I bear no responsibility, even if he had certainly never disappointed me. His father made him one of us, shortly after he himself became a vampire."

The train took off again, left the station and also Mick's thoughts came into motion. Malik was old, very old. Mick had immediately felt that at their first meeting. Much older than Josef and most of the other vampires who had appeared in Mexico. And he had the athletic body and the powerful aura of a warrior... Didn't Gabriel tell him that in the 12th century he had lived for several years in Syria, with the...

"He's an Assassin," it slipped from Mick's lips almost surprised and both, Beth and Gabriel, looked at him. Of course, that was why Gabriel had stressed time and again that nothing could happen to Beth in Mick's absence, that she was optimal protected.

Light horror appeared in Beth's eyes and her eyes flew back to Gabriel. "Is that true?"

"More or less," the vampire replied reluctantly. "He doesn't like it when you call him like this. Today the term is so worn out..."

Beth touched her throat with clear discomfort. "They… they were... murderers..."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow slightly confused. "That bothers you? You're actually constantly surrounded by dangerous predators..."

There he was right...

"Besides, Malik is not an ordinary Assassin but one of the older sons of Rashid ad-Din Sinan's, so for the most part of royal blood. Does this make it better?"

"Yes... no... I mean, I just tripped a bit over that word." She lowered her eyes a little ashamed.

"He's one of the elders, isn't he?" Mick asked, whose interest was indeed aroused by now. Gabriel had told him in the past weeks a lot, but there was still so much that was so unclear to him.

The vampire looked at him and then nodded, smiling. "And I'm really happy about it. He has a high intellect, wisdom and a lot of power. We think very similarly about all this."

"Is he allowed to use the name des Archanges?"

Gabriel hesitated a moment, but then he nodded again. "He is."

"Let me guess – he's Raphael."

"Raphael doesn't exist in the Islamism," Gabriel responded calmly, leaning slightly back in his seat. "He prefers Azrael."

"Wait," now Beth stepped in again, "Malik is one of the Ancients?"

Now Gabriel shook his head. "The Ancients were something special, and even much older than he is."

"In what way special?" Beth's reporter instincts had reawakend and Mick could not help but smile slightly, because her questions seemed to be a little uncomfortable to Gabriel.

"They had... special assessments, special blood."

"Other blood than that of normal vampires?"

Gabriel paused for a moment, then nodded reluctantly.

"But you... you are one of the Ancients," Beth stated and between her brows this cute little line had formed.

The following pause lasted a few seconds longer than the previous one. "Rumors say that at least," Gabriel replied evasively, and ran one hand across his chin. "But there are many rumors about me."

Yet this slightly precocious expression appeared on her lovely face. "But you said earlier, you've always dealt with your blood very carefully..."

"Oh, any vampire should do this," he answered with a smile that was not quite as convincing as before and Mick's smirk became a grin. If Gabriel really believed that he was able to put off Beth with that, he was hugely mistaken.

The line between her brows got still a bit deeper. "How old are you in fact?"

Gabriel let out an incredulous laugh and looked over to Mick, who was really enjoying this by now. It was not easy to make such an old vampire like Gabriel sweat, but his Beth even managed that!

"Is she always that stubborn?" he asked with a mixture of anger and admiration in his eyes.

"Oh, yeah," Mick replied, grinning, and could not prevent that a little pride resonated in his voice. Beth's eyes rested for a moment on his face, then turned with an almost happy smile back to Gabriel.

"I just want to understand this all," she explained and skimmed a red curl behind her ear. For one heartbeat Mick's view stuck to this spot and then roamed slowly down her neck. Automatically his sense of smell switched on and he used the strength of his vampire side, without really activating it, which became easier for him every time. The scent of her skin rose unfiltered into his nose, caused that his heartbeat accelerated unintentionally and most of his blood got transported more into the southern regions of his body.

"I mean, you... you're the oldest of all vampires," he heard her go on, as his eyes groped along the collar of her blouse down to her cleavage, he had a generous insight into through her slightly forward bent posture.

"Who made you a vampire?"

The soft curves of her breasts that were barely covered by a tight-fitting, low-cut strapped-shirt under the blouse let his mouth get very dry and provided a significant stir in his lumbar region. Not that as well! He quickly broke his eyes away from her and focused on the small advertising panel above Gabriel's head. Not a good idea. Two naked cartoon figures in intimate physical contact, above them the advertising slogan 'Give AIDS no chance – no Sex without Durex!' The world was against him today...

"One of the Ancients," he could hear Gabriel say after a moment of hesitation. His answer was maybe exciting for Beth, but it could not detract Mick of his problems in the least. He already knew this story. He needed something better to get rid of his so rapidly flared up lust for her again and to ensure that his excitement didn't get outwardly visible. That was something he still had to urgently get a grip on, this boosts of need, which attacked him from ambush and sometimes made it terribly hard for him to think clearly. Whether it was thirst, hunger, fatigue or lust. It was always too sudden, always too intense and difficult to deal with. Not only his vampire side gave him sometimes a hard fight, but also his human side. Both had their pitfalls.

"The professor has called these primordial creatures Nigong," Beth considered. "Was your Sire such a one... basically not human?"

Gabriel tilted his head thoughtfully and ran his fingers over his currently rather stubbly chin. "Frank Peterson found out a lot of things about the origins of vampirism. That's correct. But there are a few coherences he doesn't know. Things I also had to advice Mick of in the first place…"

Oh, his name! Mick had to give a focused, relaxed impression. He wanted to smile, however, managed under Beth's warm gaze only a twitch of one corner of his mouth. 'Look at her face! At her face!'

He bit back an exhalation of relief when she concentrated her attention back on Gabriel and forced himself to look out of the window.

"I'm all ears," he heard her say. Well, wonderful! Now even the sound of her voice let the fine hairs of his arms raise. Fortunately he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and still a leather jacket.

"The few people that got on to the track of our secret so far are guessing that the Nigong evolved into vampires by a mutation, a genetic error," Gabriel explained now, while Mick had started to count the houses, rattling past them. They were now so far away from the larger cities, that this was a fairly simple task. Boring enough to shut down his excitement again. He hoped so at least.

"And that's not true?" Beth asked confused.

"Oh, there was a genetic defect," Gabriel replied immediately. "But at first it had nothing to do with the vampire existence."

"What with then?"

"It caused that a large part of them became infertile. They could only reproduce occasionally and when there were too few female Nigong, the males had to look after female partners of other, similar species."

Look after? That was not quite the right word... images of sweating, intertwined bodies flashed before Mick's mind's eye, changed rapidly into scenes which were not that long ago. He bit down on the inside of his lower lip and tried hard to think of something else. Old, smelly socks, fermented milk, Lance's black eye...

"Peterson told me that, too," said Beth, and he could hear the slight excitement, that had attacked her, in her voice. "He said they had mixed with humans."

"Exactly. And the way it is, such mixing of alien genes often doesn't happen without problems."

Mick looked over to Beth yet again, whose eyes widened with the realization befalling her now. "That's how the vampires were born?"

Gabriel nodded. "Because the genes mixed. Some characteristics were inherited, others not. But if an organism is dependent on two characteristics that influence each other, but only receives one of them, this inevitably leads to problems."

"So the children of these two species only got the facilities to build vampire hormones..."

"... or the ones for the blocking agents, which was not further dramatic because without the vampire hormones they didn't make themselves felt. These humans could live like normal people, could get sick, aged and died. They never noticed that they were special. In contrast to the poor creatures who were plagued with the vampire hormones. Most of them probably died, until the evolution also gave them a chance to survive."

"And were you bitten by such a creature?" Beth probed.

Again the answer was a nod.

"Voluntarily?"

Gabriel's eyes roamed briefly to Mick and then wandered back to Beth. "Not really. I didn't know what she was and did not really understand what she was talking about. She promised me immortality, something that sounded to me so incredibly tempting that I forgot to switch on my mind. Some feelings make you blind to the essential things, for threats, lies and fraud."

"Was..." Mick noticed the shy glance in his direction abundantly clearly and knew exactly what Beth was thinking. The parallels to his own history were just too obvious. "Was she... your wife?"

Gabriel's mouth lifted into an understanding smile and he shook his head. "No, much worse. We all thought her to be a goddess back then. But that was not surprising, at that time all that you could not explain was held to be divine."

"When was that? Before the birth of Christ?"

"Gabriel is Sumerian," it now burst out of Mick. Somehow, he couldn't endure it any longer that one always had to worm everything out of the old vampire. Gabriel acknowledged his involvement with a slight contraction of his eyebrows while Beth was staring at Mick with wide eyes and open mouth.

"That... that was... thousands of years before Christ," she stammered, and her stunned gaze flew back to Gabriel. Now she saw him probably with very different eyes than before. The term 'ancient' had acquired a new dimension. The feeling would vanish soon, however, Mick knew this from personal experience. The whole thing was just too... abstract.

"At a certain point, time plays no role anymore," said Gabriel gently. "It changes you, brings a vast store of experience and impressions along, but some things never change. They repeat themselves again and again and you learn to deal with it, to prepare for it."

He paused, looked at the same time as Mick back to the door that opened at once. It was Malik once more and he spoke to Gabriel in Arabic again. This time the conversation lasted considerably longer, and Mick felt Gabriel's internal tension growing. That was not good. Something important had happened.

The old vampire issued a few instructions that Malik acknowledged with a nod, then the Assassin was gone again.

"We have to leave at this station," Gabriel said and stood up, because the train was beginning to slow. "There is a small change in plans."

Mick got up immediately to lift with a slight fear his and Beth's travel bag from the luggage rack. "The Legion?" he threw at Gabriel over his shoulder, who was holding his bag already in the hands and opened the door.

"No," was the reassuring answer. "Tony has found someone else I absolutely must speak with. We will take a little trip to Detroit."

Mick nodded. Gabriel did not sound exactly as if he wanted to explain this in more detail at the moment and that even was enough for now. Beth seemed to see it the same way, because it was nothing to hear from her and when Mick turned around with the two bags in his arms, she was already in front of him.

"Thanks," she muttered and took her bag from his arms, in doing so looking so deeply into his eyes that he could do nothing else than to nod minimally. A jolt went through the train and Beth stumbled forward. Mick could get hold on the luggage rack quick-witted and caught the young woman. Nevertheless, she bumped into his chest with force, her fingers reflexively clutching his shirt, and he could not help but to pull her close to him with one arm. Of course, only to ensure that she did not fall down. That something inside him sighed deeply and satisfied, no one could even notice. Beth's face was now right in front of his. He could feel her warm breath on his chin, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts against his chest and looked into those beautiful eyes, framed by long eyelashes, could see so much affection and longing in them that his need to bend down and kiss her became almost overpowering. A warm shiver ran down his spine, as one of her hands moved up his back under his jacket, for this caressing touch was all too tangible through the thin fabric of his Henley. His eyes wandered to her full, inviting lips...

"We... we'll stop very soon," a voice not far away from them announced with a small cough, and Mick needed a moment to remember where he was and what they had actually intended to do.

"Yeah... I... we're coming," he stammered, while Beth broke away from him with significantly reddened cheeks and picked up the bag again that had fallen to the ground. The loss of her body heat was not easy to digest, but much harder was it to focus on what was important now, to bring back peace and order into his troubled insides. If this went on like this much longer, he would soon become completely crazy.

Gabriel stepped slightly aside to let Beth go ahead and then nodded encouragingly to Mick.

"Don't worry, that'll go off all right," the old vampire whispered in his ear when he was on one level with him and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. Mick had to take a deep breath before he could walk on. He really hoped that Gabriel was right, and his life 'un-complicated' again, as soon as possible.