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A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.

Blood Ties

Chapter 36

Quincy Ortega circled the Rainbow Pond for a second time, slowly and guardedly, in his rented Ford Focus. The place seemed closed, the parking lot empty, and it didn't look like anyone was there. Still it never hurt to use a little caution. He knew the bar... by reputation only. With its owner however he was acquainted on a far more personal level. A low level gay bar that for some strange reason had also become a popular hangout for Orange County's supernatural crowd, a place for mortals and monsters to mingle. But then, maybe this 'open door' policy wasn't so strange after all. Duo Maxwell had always been a dreamer and a sucker, very much like the old fool whose name he had adopted.

With a snort of distain Ortega looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. According to this… and the information he had received from the little rat-faced practitioner he had paid to perform the tracking spell, his target went to this place. Maybe the werewolf had stopped by for a drink after the fight at Howard's bookstore? Maybe he came to have his wounds treated? Or maybe, if he Ortega was lucky, he worked here? He knew that asking the bar owner about him would be of little use. Considering the Sidhe's overinflated sense of loyalty, Maxwell would probably rather rip out his own toenails than 'betray' a friend or even a patron.

And Maxwell's stubbornness wasn't even the biggest problem he was faced with. It was well known in his circles that the Rainbow Pond was considered neutral ground by mortals and otherworldly creatures alike. Hell, word had it that the fairy lords themselves signed an agreement to protect the place, as they used it as a site to forge contracts and make trade deals during those hours when the bar was closed for mortal business. So, sending in his men to take the building apart brick by brick while searching for his little werewolf, was out of question. The last thing he wanted was to start a full blown war with the fairies.

Very well, Ortega thought, I'll just have to wait. He'll return; I'm sure, sooner or later. I can be patient. Ventuno on the other hand… he doesn't strike me as the most patient guy. I'll have to feed him something to keep him from blowing his top while we wait.

A truck, one of those big black GM's, turned into the parking lot and slowed down. The driver pulled his vehicle up next to Ortega's, stopped and rolled down his window.

"Hey! Can I help you?" The man behind the wheel was large with neatly trimmed dark hair, pale skin and eyes the color of roasted hazelnuts.

"I don't think so," Ortega brushed him off. He recognized the driver at once, not for who he was… but for what.

"Then let me rephrase that," the stranger replied quietly, calmly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's none of your damn business."

Hazel eyes narrowed slightly. "That's where you are wrong kid. This is private property, and you are loitering."

"I'm just looking for someone…, someone who comes to this bar. Maybe you know him?"

"Oh? What's his name?"

"I don't know his name. But I need to find him. He did me wrong and I just want to set things right." he looked at the big man firmly. "He is a werewolf."

There was no reaction, other than a brief pause. "I don't know him. But you can leave your phone number in case he shows up and I will pass it on. Or better yet, you can do yourself a favor and get out of here, while I go park my car."

A wave of cold anger washed over the Latino. Under normal circumstances he might have heeded the warning. But he had been bashed and pushed around one too many times over the past few days, and his ego demanded retaliation.

"I know what you are. I have dealt with your kind before."

"Is that so?" the big man replied almost softly as he looked him over.

Then he pulled away, drove to the other end of the lot and parked his car.

Ortega snorted and grinned to himself, but the grin all but fell from his face when the man climbed out of his truck, and slowly walked toward him… right through the hot and bright afternoon sun.

The Latino swallowed. That was impossible! He could have sworn… no he knew for sure, that guy was a vampire. The sun should have incinerated him on the spot. For a moment he considered rolling up his window, which, admittedly, wouldn't have been very much of a defense against a creature of the night. But then his male ego kicked in once again. He scowled even as his fingers reached under his shirt and close around the pendant he was wearing around his neck.

#

"What was it you were saying about knowing me and my kind?" Charlie, the bouncer, asked as he planted himself besides the Ford Focus.

Ortega managed to keep his voice under control. "I'm not afraid of you. So lay off on the macho-jitsu."

"That, makes you either very naïve or very foolish," the older man replied softly. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume the former rather than the later. So, why don't you do both of us a favor and leave before this gets ugly? Go home to your mom or your girlfriend, grab a beer and watch the game or something."

Eyes flickering with rage, Ortega suddenly held a crucifix in his hand and thrust it toward the bouncer, while at the same time kicking at the door on the driver-side to fling it open. But the door didn't budge, as though someone was leaning against it with great force.

Charlie didn't even blink. He kept his knee pressed against the car door while his right hand shot through the window as quick as lightning, closing around the cross and Ortega's fingers with bruising force. He could have broken every bone in the young man's hand but stopped short of it.

Ortega grimaced. Pain and panic started to spread through his body, as realization started to sink in that this guy was nowhere in the same league as those vampires he had dealt with before.

"You know nothing, young one, nothing at all." The vampire's voice had the tone of a teacher lecturing a especially unruly student, kind but firm. " Hasn't anyone ever told you, those things don't work if you don't believe?"

Most people had seen movies or read stories about powerful vampires being held at bay by delicate, little nuns with nothing else but a cross or rosary to defend themselves with. But that had very little to do with the religious symbol itself. The power came from love and belief; the same concept that gave a mother the strength to lift a car off her child pinned beneath it, or let martial art masters punch through a solid brick wall without hurting themselves. Ortega didn't believe in the cross, hell he probably didn't believe in anything else but his own ego. His power couldn't have harmed a baby squirrel if he'd tried.

Another car was pulling off the main road and headed toward the bar. Charlie held the Latino for a few more seconds, before releasing his grasp. The crucifix dropped from his numb fingers, and Ortega cradled his throbbing hand with the other.

"Get out of here!"

###

Duo Maxwell parked his car and slipped out from behind the wheel. A gray Ford Focus that he didn't recognized as belonging to one of his workers, was backing out of the lot and drove away. Duo walked slowly, allowing Charlie to catch up with him before he reached the entrance to the bar.

"What was that all about?" he asked. The confrontation between his bouncer and the man in the car hadn't gone unnoticed when he passed them. The Ford's windows were tinted, though, and he hadn't been able to recognize the driver.

Charlie just gave a tired shrug. "Some drunk, leftover from last night looking for a fight, I guess. It's way too early for that kind of shit."

Duo grunted a affirmative as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. "Speaking of too early. What are you doing here, already? I would have thought, you were still dead asleep."

"Nah. Evelyn is out of town for a few days. Some kind of seminar for work," the bouncer explained as he followed the Sidhe into the bar. "I had to pick up the kids from school and watch them until grandma came by to pick them up for the weekend. By the time I got them out the door it was too late to climb back into bed."

It was a common misconception, doubtlessly fueled by Hollywood and scores of fantasy authors, that all vampires were asleep all day, and spent every night stalking pretty young girls for blood. Older, more powerful vamps, especially the Old Ones… or those that were still left, needed to replenish their recourses far less frequently.

"Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay!" Duo started putting down the chairs and the bouncer pitched wordlessly in.

Once they were done the bar owner went down into the cellar to grab a few bottles of ale reserved only for him and his crew. They were brewed deep in the land of the fairies and left by the Sidhe as payment for using the bar. He climbed back up the ladder, popped the bottles open and gestured for Charlie to join him. The two men settled at a table near the door, tapped bottles and took a few long swags.

The bouncer wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, nodding approvingly. "Good stuff. I wish you could order more of it."

"So do I. Unfortunately that's out of the question. You want me to get you something to eat, too?"

"Nah," Charlie shook his head. "I ate before leaving home. Evelyn stocked the fridge before she left."

Duo nodded. "Alright, then tell me what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Remember I mentioned before that I'm planning on cutting down on my hours, maybe work only 2 or 3 days a week?"

The younger man nodded wordlessly. He didn't like the idea, Charlie was the best bouncer one could imagine. But he was also newly-wed, and work was probably the last thing he wanted to spend his nights doing right now.

"I know this kid… he is looking for a job. I thought I could bring him in, show him the ropes and we could split the job here," Charlie continued.

Duo hesitated one thoughtful moment. "Is he… kinfolk of yours?"

The bouncer nodded.

"You trust him?"

Another nod. "I would never have suggested this if I didn't."

"Fine!" the bar owner agreed. "If you think he is safe, he is as welcome here as you are. Bring him by, let me talk to him."

"He is a good kid, but he is still young, thinks he owns the world."

Duo Maxwell laughed and took another sip from his beer. "At that age, don't we all think we own the world?"

"Yeah. Unless of course, we actually do." Charlie's eyes glazed over for a long moment as though he was remembering something then he grinned. "In any case if he tries to give you lip feel free to put your boot up his ass."

"I'm good at that." the braided young man assured him, and at the same time briefly wondered how old the vampire actually was.

He finished his bottle then rose to his feet and started to clear the table. He slowly began going through his routine of getting the bar ready for opening. Outside a car pulled up, probably Phil the cook or one of the kitchen staff. Charlie moved over to a barstool, grabbed a box of cocktail napkins and silently started folding them.

"Where is Heero, by the way," he asked after a minute or two. "Don't think I've seen him the last couple days."

"Out of town, visiting someone. Why?"

The bouncer shrugged. "The guy in the parking lot… asked for him. Not by name, but he said he was looking for a werewolf. Not too many of those hang around the Pond, from what I know."

Duo stopped polishing glasses. His head snapped up.

"What did he look like, that guy you talked to."

"Latino, maybe in his mid twenties…" Charlie described Ortega as best as he could.

The younger man muttered a curse.

"You know him?"

"Oh yeah," Duo confirmed with a growl. "I know him, alright. He and I are 'brothers'."

"He is a Sidhe?" Charlie asked, surprised. It wasn't the sense he had gotten off of the stranger.

"No. I think he might be mortal. We spent several years together at the same orphanage. I had hoped he had taken a direct train to hell by now."

The vampire narrowed his brows thoughtfully. It was unusually for Duo to talk like that, about anyone.

####

Sheriff Spotted Deer was waiting in his jeep outside the cabin when Heero exited with a bag of clothes, some toiletries and Takashi's laptop.

"Hey, Sheriff." the young man greeted. "I thought Sid was driving me."

"Something came up, plans changed. Get it."

"Thanks."

Heero threw the bag into the back of the jeep before settling into the passenger seat with the computer on his lap. It was an itty-bitty thing, one of those newer models with touch screen and all the bells and whistles. Takashi had told him it was the most expensive and most cherished item he had ever owned. The brothers at the monastery believed that knowledge and wisdom were far more important gifts for a child than monetary possessions, but that didn't stop them all from pitching in and presenting the boy with this laptop when he had left their care.

"I've heard on the news that law enforcement has officially stopped their search for Odin."

Joe Spotted Deer shrugged as he put the car into gear. "That doesn't mean we will actually stop looking, it just means they are changing their investigation from missing person to presumed dead. Once they find those guys that were waiting for him in his cabin they can charge them with manslaughter or murder."

"I don't want to believe he is dead."

"Neither do I," the sheriff sighed.

They drove in silence for several miles. Joe turned his head a time or two eying Heero who was staring pensively out of the window.

"You thinking about Odin?"

"No," the young man looked up. "About something Takashi said to me yesterday. About me not knowing my family. You know I have never really thought about it, but I do have parents, don't I? I mean, everyone has. Do you know who they are?"

"Me?"

"Yeah." Heero crocked his head looking at the older man. "I must have gotten my lycanthrope genes from at least one of them, right? Maybe they came through Camp Werewolf, like Ryan and Kirsten's parents."

Joe didn't meet his eyes. He stared onto the dusty road ahead of them with another sigh.

"It seems J. still hasn't told you everything yet."

Heero's brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The sheriff didn't answer.

A thought struck the young man, and his frown only deepened. "It isn't J is it? My father, I mean."

"No. I can tell you that much," Joe replied. "But he should be the one explaining the rest to you. Sorry, kid, but it really isn't my place."

Heero was positively scowling now, but he took a few deep breaths and decided to not push the other man. Instead he pulled out his cell phone to check the time?

"You got to be somewhere?"

"No just checking what time it is on the West Coast. I need to call a friend, but the last thing I want to do is wake him up."

Spotted Deer snorted. "It's afternoon even in California", he pointed out. "What is he, a vampire?"

"No, he is a great fairy, a Sidhe or something from what I understand. But he works nights and never gets home until after 3 in the morning. He likes to sleep in."

"A Sidhe, huh?" The sheriff gave him a sideways' look. "How did you get tangled up with one of those?"

"It just… happened." Heero shrugged, not inclined to explain his relationship with Duo to the other man.

####

The old oak tree groaned in protest under the extra weight, as someone made their way through its branches. There was a quiet creaking of the window, then an even quieter scuffing sound as that same 'someone' pulled himself across the sill and into the large bedroom.

Quatre Winner didn't look up from his computer.

"Where have you been all afternoon?" There was a slight annoyance in his voice.

"Shooting it out with some… acquaintances," the demon behind him replied calmly.

"What?" The blonde looked back over his shoulder and gasped. Trowa's shirt and jeans were torn and filthy, splattered with dirt and what looked like blood. Quatre jumped to his feet."Oh my gosh, you are hurt! What happened?"

The demon looked down on himself, his face turning into a sheepish grin. "Oh that… it's just paint."

"Paint? Wait, you went paintball shooting?" The annoyance was back in Quatre's voice. "Without me?"

Trowa shrugged. "If I remember correctly, you said you had to finish your paper for school and didn't want to see my face until you were done. Are you done?"

The younger man grumbled an affirmative, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What is this stench?"

"Hydrogen sulfide."

"It smells like rotten eggs."

"I believe that's what I just said," the demon replied evenly.

"Why do you smell like rotten eggs?"

"It's the paint." Trowa explained. "This guy I know had it specially ordered from a company that sells custom made paintballs. It's the price you pay for getting shot. You smell like rotten eggs. Adding insult to injury, I suppose."

The younger man scrunched his face. "Go take a shower. And burn those clothes, or something."

As the demon wordlessly made his way to the bathroom Quatre slipped back behind the computer, his face thoughtfully.

"Hey, Trowa!"

The tall youth held his step, hand on the bathroom door. "Hmm?"

"What kind of custom made paintballs are we talking about?"

Trowa frowned slightly as he turned his head. "Different colors, different scents from what I understand." he shrugged. "Why?"

"Just thinking," Quatre replied, but one could almost hear the gears turning inside his head.

###

The phone in his pocket rang when Duo Maxwell was about to climb down into the basement to grab a few more bottles of liqueur for the bar. He pulled the little silver device from his pocket and answered.

"Hey Duo."

"Hey Heero. What's up? Where are you?"

There was a brief pause. "Umm… That's just it. I'm still back home in the Rockies. Something happened and I haven't been able to leave yet."

He told the Sidhe about his adventure with the two poachers and Takashi getting hurt, but left out that the boy was a werewolf just like him.

"…he will be fine the doctor says, but I want to stay here until the kid comes home from the hospital. I'll take a midmorning flight out and will be back in California before the Pond opens. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks," Duo answered."But listen, I think you should stay for another day or so? Hell, stay as long as you need to. Sounds like you are really worried."

"Yeah, but… I thought you said you needed me to help out in the bar this weekend?"

"I do, but apparently the kid needs you more. I can always call in someone else. There are a number of people I know that won't mind making a few extra bucks. So, don't you worry about me, okay. You just stay there for as long as you need…" He almost added 'the longer the better, in fact' but stopped himself at the last moment.

There was a pause again. Duo could almost see the other man frown.

"Is everything okay, Duo? You are not angry, are you?"

"Of course not. Everything is peachy."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like everything is peachy."

"Are you calling me a liar now?"

"No, that's not what I was saying," Heero protested. "You just sound… Never mind. I guess I'll see you in a few days then."

"Okay, take care, and try to stay out of trouble." Duo hung up, scowling. Damn it! That guy has the perception of a… werewolf, I guess. I hope he is smart enough to stay out of town until things blow over. I don't like the idea that Quincy is looking for him. Hell, I don't like the idea that Quincy is in town, period.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, flicked on the light in the cellar and started to pick bottled from the shelves, putting them into a cardboard box for easier transport.

####

Trowa left the bathroom shrouded in a cloud of sandalwood and coconut. A big improvement over the 'eau de rotten eggs' he was wearing earlier. Quatre was sitting at the computer again, hammering away on the keyboard.

"What are you doing?"

"Ordering paintballs."

"Why?"

As far as the demon knew, neither Quatre or his family owned paintball guns… or any guns for that matter.

"I googled the company you were talking about. It's ingenious, I tell you. They can customize your ammunition any way you want it. In fact, the woman I talked to on the phone told me they once even had a special request where they added tiny little glitter hearts into the mix for a custom order for someone's wedding…"

For a moment the question why anyone would throw a 'paintball wedding,' crossed Trowa's mind, but the other youth was already moving beyond that little detail.

"…In any case, real special orders can only be made in large quantities, since the machines that fill the little balls will have to be specially adjusted. But I guess that's alright. I was planning on getting a large batch anyway."

The demon frowned. "Again I ask… Why?"

"Don't you get it? Little paintballs are so much more convenient to carry around then water balloons and film canisters. You can shoot them much further, too. Best of all, they are biodegradable. So, how many do you think we should get? Minimum order is 5 crates. Each crate holds 100 boxes, 1000 count each. That should last us for a while, don't you think?"

"You planning on declaring war on the entire vampire population?" Trowa asked dryly.

"Don't be silly. Just on those who are messing with my town and with my friends."

T.B.C.

Author's Note: