Alistair is back in business, baby!

Yeah. . . . I didn't get a lot of review last chapter. . …. Was it that boring? *fake crying* Well, thank you to whoever reviewed.


Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while were here we should dance -Unknown

Italian restaurant? Nah, had pizza for lunch. How about Panda Express? Not fancy enough.

It's hard to congratulate yourself on a job well done, isn't it? Alistair thought to himself, tapping his cane to his right knee as he walked. He smiled again to himself, one of those proud ruler of the world smiles. Finally deciding on an Italian restaurant, Alistair Oh seated himself and waited for a waiter to come and take his order. He pulled out his laptop along with a blue suitcase about the size of a computer screen. It was one of those hard shell like ones, and had several colorful dots on it. He opened the lid and peered inside of it.

For one thing, it was cleaner than most suitcases he had stolen and dug through, folders were neatly piled on one side of the suitcase, and the other had all of the girl's clothes. He gently picked up the files as if they were hundred of years old and could break any second. The first one was in a manila folder and contained two pieces of paper. The first one said: one gram melted amber. The second page had only one word on it, myrrh. Clues to the master serum, I guess. We have all this information already. Alistair put the files on the table and took out another.

"Hello! Welcome to the Olive Grove, have you decided what you wanted to drink yet?" Drinks? There was a waiter standing next to the table, holding a notepad and a pen. She had a tightly wrapped bun that held back her blond hair, a white button up shirt that was neatly tucked into her black pants. A black apron hung around her waist, with two huge pockets on it, probably to hold her notepad and pen. Alistair noticed that she was wearing a lot of make-up, and her pale skin didn't look very good with her bright red lipstick.

"Err . . . give me a second." Alistair took out the menu that he had roughly shoved to the side and flipped through trying to find the page with drinks. "How about . . . .do you have green tea?" Typical Asian drink in an Italian restaurant? Chances of them having them was very small.

"Actually, we do!" The waiter said happily, fake enthusiasm. That was going to get on his nerves someday.

"Ok. Give me one of those." When she left, Alistair took a quick look at the menu and searched for the best looking thing on the menu and prepared himself for when the waiter would return. He opened another file from the suitcase. Inside were letters, it seemed. They were old fashioned in some way, written in neat cursive in black ink that made spots on the paper, and the yellow paper was obliviously old, for it was cracked and wrinkled in several places.

To many words can not describe these wee items,

for there are too little of us to fight them.

Colors of scarlet smear into my face,

and life's paths quicken in pace.

Oh! How I wish that my decedents would not bare,

this troubled fate I had to share,

with my family of five,

and the rest of my friends, the kings of the hive.

I broke apart from them,

they tried to warn me,

but I would not listen to thee.

- Damien Vesper

Poems. Maybe this guy was a Janus, except for the fact that he related a lot of things to bees. Alistair hated bees, so he had a feeling he was going to hate whoever this guy was.

The rest of the papers were like that, poems, old crinkly poems from some guy named Damien Vesper. Vesper. The words hissed in the back of his mind, ringing a bell in his mind, expecting him to know what it meant. He had heard that word before, maybe his uncle had mentioned them before. Was that a line of Cahils, maybe an unknown branch? The poem did say that they broke apart from something, maybe it was the Cahills. Thoughts whirled in his mind ideas, unanswered questions, and theories. He took out another one of the poems and read it. It was the exact same copy as the first one, except it was on newer paper and typed in ink. The rest of the file were print outs on different people from all over the world and all over time, from Virginia Dare to Alexios Angelos, Nicholas Flamel and Adolf Hitler. Maybe past Cahills, or maybe random people, Alistair wasn't sure.

"Are you ready to order?" Smile waitress was back, holding the same notebook and pen in her hands.

"Yes, um. . . I'll take the pizza."

"Pepperoni? Cheese? What type would you want?"

"Err . . . Cheese."

"Would you like to add any other toppings, chili," Chili? "Pineapple, how about pepperoni?"

"Just cheese, and that's all I want, thank you very much." She set down his tea and walked away. Finally. Alistair continued to go though the stacks of papers, finding little that sparked his interest. He didn't even know what he was looking for, just something important, the triplets said. Something important, why couldn't they had gone looking through a girls luggage, I mean, there are a lot of clothes he shouldn't be digging through in here. He better be paid a lot for this.

When the waiter came and set down his plate, he didn't even look up to thank her. He just kept reading and reading the files. Alistair picked up his fork and started to eat. At the bottom of the stack of folders was a small picture frame. The frame was made out of wood, and the glass was getting dusty. He wiped the dust off and stared at the contents. There were two older people, one with dark black hair and the other brown, and in front of them a little three year old girl. The older male had jet black hair, around his mouth were little stubs like he hadn't shaved in weeks, and he had the darkest brown eyes. Next to him was a brown haired person, obviously pregnant with a child and expecting it any day, wearing a turtle-neck and holding the shoulders of the younger girl. She looked to be about three years old, black hair like her father and green eyes like her mom. For the first time in several minutes Alistair took his eyes off the files and looked up to scan the room for the first time.

It was darkly lit, with a little lamp hanging over each table, some of them not even on. There were a few tables in the center, but most of the tables were on the edges, seating all types of people. Alistair took another bite of his pizza. He cut off a part of it with his fork and then scooped it into his mouth. Delicious. Alistair set everything back into its places in the suitcase and dialed his phone. Someone picked it up on the first ring, as if expecting his call. With his case, they probably were.

"Well?" girl voice, Sinead. "Did you find anything?"

"You should have been the one going through this stuff, not me. But no, just a bunch of files about several people and a poem about bees, it was kind of boring I don't think you would have to bother reading it." that was true enough, except for the part about splitting. "What was the point of this again?"

"The Vespers are hiding something that no one else knows about, even the Lucians and the Janus. I believe that something has changed, but I don't know in what yet. That's where you come in, I have to watch my brothers, they're getting worse." Was it his imagination, or did he hear Sinead choke those last words out. Ever since the explosion during the first month of the clue hunt, the two brothers had never been the same.

"There is one thing you should know, I found ―" Alistair hung up and got his suitcase and cane and leapt up from the table. "I have to go." He shouted at no one in particular, but some people did turn and look his way. Maybe he should pay for his pizza? Nah there's no time, besides he only took about two bites from it.

From outside the window was the tall, lean figure of Bae Oh. He was wearing a black suit and his hair was all up, like he was going to a fancy party.

"Excuse me," he told a waiter passing by. "Is there a back door?"

"Yes."

"Can I use it?"

"Why?" The waiter responded. Alistair didn't have time for this. He pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and waved it in front of the mans face.

"Follow me please." Alistair glanced out the window. Bae had just spotted him through the window and was pushing his way towards the restaurant. Alistair followed the man to the back door and when he reached it ran out, not bothering to give the man his money. He took out his cell phone.

"Where ― why did hang up! Is this some type of sick joke?" Sinead screamed into the earpiece.

"No, Bae is on my trail, I had to go before he found these files." Alistair tried to catch his breath. He continued to run.

"Well, did you find anything interesting?"

"Yeah, I think these people, Vespers, might have once, long, long, long, millions of years ago, have been Cahills, or they could be some other line of descendents, I'm not sure. Or they were really close to someone in the Cahills, and then something happened. All the files had were nonsense, like they were in some code or something, and I couldn't figure it out with the time I had."

"All right, get back here, I want to see those files. Were stationed in New York now." Sinead hung up, leaving Alistair to hear that beep beep sound you hear after someone hangs up.

"Some people. We were supposed to be allies, not Sinead demands everything and Alistair picks it up." Alistair mumbled to himself as he tried to signal a taxi. Frustrated, he stepped into the taxi.

"Where would you like to go sir?" Alistair thought for a moment.

"Anywhere but New York."

"You have to be more spicific than that sir."

"Fine. Take me to the airport, I'm going back to Korea."


A/N – poem, I made it up myself, so if it stinks or doesn't rhyme, that's my fault. I also figured out Adolf Hitler was a Lucian. I have to fix that.

i don't know if they would serve green tea at an italian resteraunt, and olive garden? just sounded italian.

Those random names I had, Virginia Dare, that Alexios dude, I just searched them up on wiki . . .. so yeah.

P.S. YEAH! done with the next chapter! just waiting for the weekend!