"Why should we agree to anything?" Draven yelled back, opening his eyes.
The response was gunfire.
Sarah screamed, and Eric crumpled.
* * *
4/8
They'd missed Fawkes. Sarah hadn't been so lucky. She'd been grazed. And then
there was Eric, who lay on the ground. Fawkes knelt, shaking, reliving a
nightmare for the third time.
"Draven! Eric! Eric, get up. Not again, dammit, not again"
Eric's pain-glazed eyes rolled over to Sarah. She was biting her lip and blood
was trickling down her arm. "No," he whispered.
"I'll get her out of here. I'll get both of you out of here."
Eric was shaking now. "Too late . . . Can't stop it . . . I'm sorry . . ."
"Please, not again," Not another person bleeding in his arms, not Allianora, not
Kevin again, not again. His thoughts ran in tight little circles, and he knew
he'd have to vanish, because the men with guns would come to see what they'd
hit. But he stayed, locked in a year past. "Please . . . you're gonna be okay
. . . "
Eric *twitched.* His face turned to Darien's. "Can't stop it now . . . tried
so hard. Didn't . . . didn't want . . ." He raised slowly shaking hands before
his eyes. ". . . enjoy the show . . ."
There came a rasping noise, like the faintest of death rattles. Darien moaned
wordlessly, wondering in the midst of new and remembered pain how a dying man
had the strength to shield his face.
Except that Eric wasn't dying anymore. He was standing, rising fluidly. His
hands, still covering his face, had gone stark white.
//What the *hell* // Heart hammering, Darien stood with him and backed up a
step. An odd fear pulsed through him and through his gland, which sent silent
pleas to the rest of his brain to let it do its job and protect him. "Eric, are
you . . ."
Eric's hands flew open, revealing a face as white as his hands, with eyelids and
mouth pitch black. The black migrated out and down from his eyes, and turned up
from his mouth in a parody of a grin.
"Boo," he whispered.
Darien jumped three feet and disappeared.
"That's a new one," the Crow said. Then he pivoted and walked to the girl who
held her arm tightly. He asked, softly, "Are you scared?"
"Nah," she said calmly. "I know you're still Eric in there."
"Even after what I've done? To Darryl? To Funboy?" Only one who could read the
Crow like Sarah could see anxiety in the inhuman calm.
"Wasn't you." Sarah took her hand from her wound and let it fall to the side.
"You without Eric isn't really you, you get me?"
"Either way - You have to know I love you. I'll never hurt you." He crouched
and reached for her, one finger reaching for the cut on her sleeve. "I can
help." He pressed down and Sarah took a breath.
"It doesn't hurt! Hey, I didn't know you could do that."
"Neither did I."
The crow called. "He's still here, you know." Kevin's voice.
The Crow stood. "Darien, how about you?" he said to the air.
There was a faint musical sound. "Me neither," Fawkes said, appearing in a fall
of silver flakes. Sarah just stared.
Darien only had eyes for the pale, painted man. "Bobby was right. What the
hell did they do to you?"
"They?"
"The white coats. The government, maybe."
"Oh, man," Sarah said. "You're so far off . . ." She followed Darien's eyes to
her friend who had a faraway look in his.
"They're coming. Both of you hide."
Sarah looked up and down the smooth alley. "Where?"
Darien smiled if shakily, and pulled the girl to him against the wall. "Shh."
And they both disappeared in a liquid rush as the first gunman rounded the
corner.
He was the first of two. But both had semi-automatics. //This could be a
problem.// //Nothing we can't handle.// The Crow leapt two feet, grabbing a
sodium-yellow streetlight. He swung forward, kicking the first in the head, but
the second fired across his wrists and he was forced to drop. He still had time
on the way down to grab the second gun in his feet and hurl it two yards.
His hands were useless for now, but then, he hardly needed them. The second
gunman settled into a fighting stance, but the black-clad apparition slid
forward, under his blocks, to pin him to a wall with a foot to the neck.
"Good night," the Crow said, and pressed slightly. The gunman crumpled as
Albrecht and Hobbes, out of breath, turned the corner.
Even if he hadn't been just close enough to see, Albrecht would have known by
the body language that his friend's color was off. He rounded on Bobby. "Stay
back, Agent Hobbes. I mean it!"
"'Sokay, Detective." Fawkes' voice from the alley ahead of him. But no Fawkes
in the alley. And then he was there, as *something* precipitated from him, and
from a startled Sarah. "I think we're sharing now."
"What the *hell?*"
Fawkes looked at him. "My thoughts exactly."
Hobbes had been edging around the two, and now he was clear. If he'd been told
to stop, there was something here he had to see. Draven was facing away, but at
a harsh birdcall, he turned.
Eric resembled nothing so much as an evil mime. Hobbes took a breath to make a
remark about the makeup, when it was sucked into the other man's face. The
black around the eyes and mouth contracted, the white flushed almond. Eric's
posture changed, relaxed, like Darien's when . . . .
When he'd gotten a last-minute shot in the arm.
"I knew it!" Hobbes turned back to the group, walking up to Albrecht and
standing an inch away. "What are you, his control? Because if I were putting
him in Civvie life, that's how I'd do it. Place an agent in law enforcement -
hell, it's almost the same job."
"Even though I don't know what the hell you're talking about-"
"Yeah, right," Hobbes snorted.
"It's pretty obvious you do. And that it's got something to do with Claude
Raines, here." Albrecht jerked his head at Darien.
"Yeah," Sarah said. "What gives? Darien was Made in the USA, wasn't he?"
"Sharp kid," Darien said, smiling down at her.
Then Eric rejoined the group, and conversation ceased. Into the silence, he
offered, "My ears were burning?"
"Don't know why," Darien said. "The detective and Sarah here just made this my
interrogation."
"Oh. Look, about what just . . ."
Darien held up a hand and shot a look at Hobbes that said "Trust me." Then he
met Eric's eyes. "I don't want to know, okay. Lab rat to lab rat. It's your
business."
"But-"
"Hobbes, it's his business, all right?"
"Okay, partner. Lab rat to lab rat. Your call." Hobbes sounded resigned.
"But I'd still like to know who's pulling his strings."
"You and me both," Eric muttered. Hobbes stared at him. Then he heard a
familiar "Aw crap," and turned to see Darien holding his neck.
"Aw crap," he echoed.
Through gritted teeth, Darien choked, "Had to keep me and the kid see-through.
You better call Claire . . ." Then he screamed, collapsing. His gun skidded
away and Hobbes grabbed it. Sarah jumped back and Eric ran to the fallen man's
side. Hobbes had beaten him there. The agent looked at the dark enigma, and
before dialing his cell, managed, "Stay back. Dangerous."
Not moving, Eric responded, "So am I."
There was no more time. Hobbes got out "Code red. We're coming in," and then
the cell was dashed from his hands. Darien's eyes were open, and filled with
blood.
"Hey, now. No need to get Claire involved. We're doing just fine, aren't we?"
"You're far from fine, my friend, and you know it."
"Yeah, but I'm getting better all the time." Fawkes rose smoothly from his
crouch. His head swayed slowly and his black-on-red eyes fixed on Draven.
"What the HELL are you looking at?"
"You tell me," Eric said, carefully, neutrally.
Albrecht, meanwhile, had gone beyond uneasy. "Agent Hobbes! What the hell's
going on here?"
"Get the kid out of here," Hobbes responded. "Kid, you go with your friend,
okay?"
"Yeah, RUN!" Darien shouted, smiling wildly. Then he forced his eyes shut,
trembling. When they opened, they were sane. "Run . . ." he gasped, falling
again. Sarah didn't need to be told a fourth time. She was already to the
detective, whose gun was trained on Fawkes as he backed up.
Hobbes had his cuffs out and ready. He risked a glance at Draven. "Enhanced
strength? Endurance?"
"Yeah."
"You're gonna need it. You gotta help me get him to the van."
"Oh, no, not the van." Darien's voice was mocking now, and his eyes held little
humanity. "Detective, don't let these bad men take me to the van."
"Can't we tranq him?"
"Tiger tranqs. Doc says they might kill a human being."
"Terrific."
"You two ladies done?" Darien asked. "Because I've got places to be." Silver
flowed over him and flushed clear.
"Oh no you don't," Hobbes replied, executing a foot sweep where Fawkes' legs
had to be. He heard a thud, and the quicksilver flaked away. "Bastard,"
Darien growled, and leapt up again, lunging at his partner and going for the
throat. Deja vu all over again . . .
Then he was pulled off, ripped away by Eric, who shoved him back to the ground,
a knee in his back. "Stay!" Fawkes howled like a hound and bucked. Eric
shifted for a better grip, and dead flesh touched living.
Suddenly the battle was on two fronts. Eric's body fought to subdue Darien
Fawkes, and his mind fought a flood of vicious memory. Such good in this man,
and such evil. Coexisting, waiting, killing, sobbing in remorse. Eric's hands
held, but his mind was washed back, and the crinkling dead sound of his change
whispered against Fawkes' inhuman growls. The Crow searched the memories as he
fought, looking for something that would reach the man.
Then he felt the cold again. Kevin Fawkes, very close, almost within. The image
of a key.
"Even your red-cold heart has a key." The Crow forced Fawkes up, and Darien
kicked backwards, twisting, stronger than a live man had a right to be.
"Did I mention I really, really hate mimes?"
The pale specter evaded the attack, whirling. He grabbed Fawkes again, forcing
him against the brick wall. More images. More memories. Brutality, blindness,
and Kevin. He ripped open Fawkes' shirt.
"Oh, is that what you wanted." Fawkes grinned, blowing a kiss. "C'mon. C'mon,
bitch." He licked his teeth. The Crow smiled back.
"You're not my type." He grasped the golden key hanging from the madman's neck.
Love. Sacrifice. Pure. Perfect. The force of it - beyond madness, beyond
death. It stunned him. He slackened his grip and Fawkes reached for his
throat. His hands closed tight, and with his last bit of air, the Crow gasped
four words.
"Don't need to breathe." With that, one hand closed around the key and the
other grasped Fawkes' face. //Jessica...// Memories flooding, cresting. Love.
Jessica. Run! I don't want to hurt you. Don't want . . . No! Ralph. Always.
The kid. You'll catch up. Paint. Run Jessica.
"Jessica!" Darien cried. His eyes streamed silver and he crumpled. "Jessica,
get away. I can't fight this much longer . . . Jessica, I love you. . ."
"Fight," the Crow said softly. "Fight for her . . ."
Time is subjective. Hobbes had had time only to recover breath and stand before
Darien screamed. He started forward, and Albrecht restrained him.
"What's he doing to him!? Dammit, what is he doing! Albrecht!"
"More than we can. No more than he has to." //I hope.//
"All her love . . . All for you," the Crow whispered, feeding it to Darien,
feeling what he channeled. It was beautiful. To him, it was magic. Together
they moved, slowly, to the alley mouth. And then Kevin touched him again, and
suddenly Fawkes felt his brother.
//Sorry . . . so sorry . . .// Darien gave a strangled sob, red eyes going wide.
Then he stiffened and fell from the dead man's grasp. Hobbes broke away from
the detective, moving to confront the apparition.
"What did you do? Tell me!"
Depthless black eyes met brown, sending a chill direct to Bobby's soul through
those windows. "Memories of love have power." Then, with inhuman grace, he
knelt. "That last wasn't me." He turned Fawkes on the ground. Embedded in the
man's neck was a dart with a clear center. Dripping off the plastic wall were
traces of blue. Hobbes grabbed for Fawkes' right wrist. Three segments were
back to green.
"Way to go, Claire," Bobby shouted, standing and looking around. No Keeper in
sight. "Um, Claire? Claire, you can come out now . . ."
Darien's cell phone rang. "Hobbes."
"Bobby, it's Claire. When are you coming in? How close is he? I'll meet you
in the garage if I have to, just get here! Is Darien all right? Bobby!"
"Aw, crap."
* * *