Echoes And Angels
A Witchblade fanfiction by Talismaniactress

(many thanks to my kind and talented beta-reader Kassiel, and to Trider for title inspiration)

Chapter Eleven: Secret Suspicions

"Hello, Sara…"

"Nottingham." Sara's lips tightened. She didn't know what cryptic message Ian Nottingham had in store for her today, but she knew she wasn't in a mood to deal with it.

"…had any dreams lately?" Oh. That again. Lovely.

"Yeah, Nottingham, actually I have, and I'm still trying to work out what it means. So unless you can give me a straight answer in plain, simple English, I'm hanging up."

Her finger was already halfway to the End Call button when he said, "The ring."

"What?"

"Trust your instincts, Sara. You do not like the girl, though you don't know why. But you have reason. You will find it in the ring."

Whatever the hell THAT means… Sara thought sourly, but she didn't bother asking. She knew she wouldn't get an answer. "What do you know about Lyanka Ladaei?" she asked instead.

"I know she is nothing she seems."

 "Ya think?"

"I try not to – it tends to hurt."

Sara blinked. Ian Nottingham, joking?! Now there was something she hadn't expected. "Working on your sense of humor, Ian?"

"I am making progress, I believe." She could almost see his smirk.

"Whatever, Nottingham."

Again, her finger was halfway to ending the call when he spoke. "She knows about the Witchblade, does she not?"

"You think she's after the Witchblade?"

"Perhaps. But she may also crave something even more powerful."

Sara felt her stomach tighten. "There's something out there more powerful than the Witchblade?"

"The greatest power has always lain within ourselves. Heed my words, Lady Sara. They will keep you safe at night." There was a small click as the line went dead.

Sara cursed loudly as she rubbed her face and leaned her head into her hands. She hated people who wouldn't give straight answers, and Ian Nottingham had probably never given anyone a straight answer in his life. But she couldn't deny the fact that his advice had kept her safe on occasion. At least, once she'd managed to figure out what he'd been talking about.

This time, however, she was less concerned with keeping herself safe than with keeping Gabriel in one piece. She was confident she could handle anything Lyanka threw at her, but Gabriel was so infatuated he probably wouldn't even see it coming. And what the hell could be more powerful than the Witchblade?!

Not for the first time, Sara wondered why her mysterious protector-slash-stalker couldn't be just a little more specific. Her subconscious answered the question for her: Because then I wouldn't need him to jump in at the last second and save the day…and Ian needs to feel needed. She sighed. Just like me.

That, of course, was the other thing that was bothering her. Sara had grown accustomed to having Gabriel's undivided attention when she visited him, and now someone else had impinged on that. Sara no longer felt as though Gabriel needed her around to talk to; he had found someone else for that. Worse, he'd found another woman. Blinking in surprise, Sara Pezzini realized she was jealous of Lyanka Ladaei.

Time enough to brood on THAT interesting revelation later, however. For now she needed to find out how to keep Gabriel safe. What was it Ian had said? 'You will find it in the ring…'

Her first thought was of the underground fight club known as the Spartacus Ring, but that had been males-only (which Lyanka definitely was not) and besides, she, Danny and Jake had closed down their operation not too long ago. So what other ring could Ian possibly have been referring to?

And then it hit her.

Leaping out of her chair, Sara went to stand in front of her bulletin board, onto which was currently pinned all the relevant case information about Carlais Korskie's murder. And there it was – the ring. The wedding ring, found on the body of a murdered girl, which just so happened to belong to Lyanka Ladaei.

 Sara took down every photograph they had shot of the ring and brought them back to her desk to examine them under her lamp. Straining her eyes, she looked for any detail that might provide a clue about its owner. It took her more than twenty minutes, but she finally spotted the tiny script woven into the vine pattern inside the band. What did it say? She pulled out a magnifying glass. Angharad of Avalon.

Without a last name, Sara knew she'd have no luck running a background check, and that left only one person to call.

"You've reached Talismaniac – purveyors of the exotic, erotic, and eso—"

"Gabriel, it's Sara."

"Sara!" Was it wishful thinking, or did he sound happier than usual? "What can I do for you?"

"Does the name Angharad of Avalon mean anything to you?"

"It, ah, sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't think of anything off the top of my head… why?"

"I'm not sure yet, but could you do me a huge favor and find out anything you can about her?"

"Uh, sure, I'll see what I can do. But I might not get to it today. It's been busy this morning, I've got a couple buyers coming in this afternoon, and I've got a dinner date tonight with Lyanka."

Oh. Of course. "Well, just get me whatever you can find as soon as you can." She ignored the nasty little voice in the back of her mind that said, Before she came along, he would have dropped everything to help you…  "Thanks, Gabriel," she added.

"No problem. Hey Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"We're still cool, right? I mean, you're not mad at me or anything?"

She frowned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, I dunno… I was just kinda wondering, after the way you left in such a hurry last night."

"Oh, no that had nothing to do with you, Gabriel. Don't worry about it. Absolutely we're still cool."

"All right. Just thought I'd check. Anyways I've gotta go, there's a customer who needs to talk to me. I'll check up on 'Angharad' and get back to you soon, all right?"

"Sure thing. Thanks again, kid."