Chapter 2:
Author's Note: Wow, thank you everybody that reviewed. Uh, like I said before, I do take some leave with the family history here, but it shouldn't be too out there. The later chapters are going to stretch the realms of believability a bit, but what the hey right? OK, hate to disappoint, but I will probably never do an Ian/Sarah fic, the whole, blood of my blood thing is too weird for me. Have fun, and please read and review.
Disclaimer: haven't I done this already?

~*~
"What the hell was that?" Sarah whispered fiercely, her eyes sweeping the room to make sure that no one was close enough to hear her talking to thin air. That was an ever present problem when you were the only person that could see a ghost, the rest of the living tended to think you were nuts.

"Why are you asking me?" Danny snipped at her.

"Well unless something has changed in the last few hours, you would be the dead, omnipotent one right?" Sarah remarked.

"Omnipotent when it comes to you, not your bleached blonde beach boy partner."

"Hey, I thought you liked him, said that he was 'getting better.'"

Danny shrugged, "Eh. He has his moments. But he's not me."

"Bad day in the afterlife?" Sarah asked dryly.

"You could say that. Past history can get in the way, you know?"

Sarah had been watching as two uniforms were staring over the body bag that enclosed the dead girl. Danny's little comment brought her attention back. "Well what the hell is that supposed to mean Danny?" she asked as she turned. "Danny?" He was gone.

"Damn it I hate it when he does that," she grumbled to herself. Someone tapped her shoulder, making her jump with a small yelp. Sarah flushed.

Officer Lewis was staring at her like she had suddenly sprouted a second head. She'd been caught talking to the wall again, how typical. "Would you like to speak to the mayor and the family Detective?"

Her immediate reaction was to say no, but she sighed and nodded slowly. Dante would chew her ass out if she didn't treat the mayor with kid gloves. Most of the time that didn't bother her, but today she wasn't certain she wouldn't take the opportunity to slug Dante. Jake was so much better at this part, soothing the nerves of frightened relations. Sarah had never been accused of being a people person. "The family does realize that no positive identification has been made as of yet, don't they?"

Lewis shrugged. "Doesn't matter. They heard that the victim was a young girl and all hell broke loose. The mother fainted and the mayor started kicking up hell with the media." She shook her head in wonderment. "People with clout, go figure."

Sarah came out into the sunlight only a few feet behind the gurney. She approached the mayor and his entourage slowly, proffering her badge for all to see. "Excuse me sir, I'm Detective Pezzini and I've been assigned to this case."

"Morning Detective." He offered her a hand. The man was nothing if not civil, she would give him that. She wondered briefly if this was an election year. "Is that my daughter, can you tell me?" The man's eyes were locked on the gurney, and the small bundled form resting on top. The look there was so gut wrenching Sarah had to turn away.

Sarah leveled her eyes just below his, studying instead the tiny wrinkles running out from his mouth. "I honestly couldn't say sir. The body was fairly well desecrated and identification by way of the picture you supplied is difficult. I'm afraid that a member of the family will have to come by the station and identify the body." The man's already pallid cheeks drained of the rest of their color.

Sarah didn't notice the mayor's wife until it was too late. The woman's hazel eyes were shrouded and glazed over, almost animalistic in their wildness. Her cheeks were stained by a trail of tears. "Trina?" She cried urgently. "Is that my baby girl? Trina baby, mommy's here."

The middle aged woman leapt to her feet and jerked away from her sons. She ran toward the gurney, tripping and twisting on her high heels, but seemed not to notice. She even fell in the dirt once, but quickly scrambled up to her feet. Two officers moved in to halt her, but the woman's grief had overtaken her rational and she shoved by them with a strength that belied her figure.

Her hands grappled with the heavy black bag, frantically tearing at the zipper and the bag itself. The reporters were eating it up, snapping pictures so that the buzz became a roar. Sarah and two other officers rushed toward the frantic woman, but they were too late. The zipper was wrenched down, revealing the pale, bloodless, emaciated figure of the corpse.

The woman's cries went from those of anguish and sorrow to those of pure, unadulterated terror. She through herself away from the body screaming like a lunatic, her fingernails delving deep into the soft earth. The reporters surged against the police lines, no one wanting to miss their shot at a good photo.

The mayor trotted over to his wife, purposefully averting his eyes from the girl's body. He'd only seen her figure for a brief moment, but it was more time than he needed. His wife clawed at his coat, her sobs becoming muffled as she buried her face in his suit front. "It's not Trina, it's not our baby," she kept repeating with barely concealed relief.

Sarah sighed, her fingertips finding her temples. This was utterly pointless. This crime scene was a mess despite, or perhaps because of the mayor's best intentions. "My partner and I will be by to talk to you later on sir," she called to his receding back. The only response she received was a halfhearted wave before he helped his wife into their limo.

Sarah trooped back toward a small crowd of uniformed officers. Perhaps she could catch a ride with Lewis and her partner, seeing as Jake had taken the car with him. Jake, at least that was a mystery that could be solved easily, she hoped.

--

Jake McCarty tried to keep his eyes open. He was in Dante's office, and his captain was yelling at him, but Jake barely noticed. The fact of the matter was that Dante tended to yell incoherently when he was mad anyway, but right now Jake couldn't concentrate enough to even fathom what Dante was saying.

He blinked and his stomach lurched. He had driven back to the station blindly, only half aware of where he was. The moment he went inside the building his stomach turned on him and he barely had made it into the first floor men's room. The sour taste remained in his mouth, it permeated the air around his nostrils. He rolled it around on his tongue, not wanting to swallow. His throat was dry.

He blinked again. He couldn't help himself. He prayed silently that Dante would finish with his tirade soon, for what he wanted now was a drink, preferably alcoholic, preferably strong, and preferably straight from the bottle. He needed to wash the image of her from his mind, the face that entered his mind every time he closed his eyes. He wanted it gone, and if alcoholic stupor was what it took, then so be it.

She was so beautiful. Her hair curled around her face, the blonde tendrils accentuating the rosy cheeks. Her skin was the color of pale pink rose petals and were just as soft. She had amber eyes that seemed to glow with their own innate light. Soft silly laughter reached his ears, the laughter of a child.

It was too much. Jake's eyes snapped open when he felt his knees start to give. He reached for a wall, a desk, anything to grab for support. He stumbled and hit the cracked drywall with a shoulder. Dante didn't even pause. /Please, oh God please stop this./

--

Sarah trotted into the police building, taking the stairs up to homicide two at a time. She was ready to rip into her partner. Because he had left with the car, she had been stuck in the back seat of a police cruiser. Lewis and her partner basically ignored the detective during the ride, which certainly didn't help her temper.

She grabbed the arm of the first cop she recognized. "Hey Johnson, where's Jake at? We need to have a little talk."

The tall, slightly overweight Lieutenant grinned stupidly. "Get in line Pez. He's in with Dante right now. Gettin the book thrown at him if I'm not mistaken. I can't believe he actually left the scene before finishing his preliminary report. Dante is hopping mad, personally I think he deserves whatever he gets."

"You weren't there," Sarah told him quietly. "You didn't see. If you had you wouldn't blame him.

"Sure Pez." He grunted, "About time the golden boy had his ass reamed."

Sarah gave a slight smile, but fell immediately onto the defensive. "Hey, it's not the first time Dante has chewed him out. Won't be the last either."

He shrugged, "Sure I guess. It's just that every other time you were in there with him and he was just a witness. For once Dante's pissed off mood has nothing to do with you. Feel proud, your partner is following in your shoes."

"Whatever, just go on about your business Johnson and I'll find out what's up. You weren't exactly a fountain of useful information." This earned her a glare and a quick departure.

Sarah made her way toward Dante's office. She could see Dante through his window, walking around and waving his arms about. The deep scowl and throbbing vein in his neck told her that Dante was ready to bust some heads.

Five minutes later Jake left the office. Sarah almost did a double take when she saw him. His perpetual tan was barely noticeable; his face drawn, tight and pale. His eyes were hollow, defeated. He looked like he might be sick. Sarah looked again. Maybe he had already been sick.

Jake sat heavily in the chair behind his desk. He had walked by Sarah without so much as a nod. Suddenly he looked very old, very tired. Sarah leaned against the door jam. "What's wrong Jake?"

"Nothing's wrong," came the muted reply. His face was buried in his hands.

"You're never this serious McCarty, I want to know what's up."

The younger man sighed and peered up at her through strained, bloodshot eyes. "I'm serious," he countered weakly.

"Jake please, you still watch Saturday morning cartoons. You're the same guy that came into work an hour and a half early so that he could cover every literal inch of my desk with various Pez dispensers. But you've seen worse bodies than that girl today, I know it. SO what was it about today?"

"I'll be fine, just need a little more sleep." He was lying and they both knew it. "She was only a kid. Why would anyone do that to a kid?" It wasn't really a question, so Sarah refrained from answering.

"So you're okay then?"

"Yeah, sure." Jake forced himself to flash her a grin. "We still have to interview the families right? So let's go."

--

"This is hopeless," Jake grumbled as they descended the stairs of the missing boys home. They had already visited the mayor, but nothing had come of it. The only family they still had to visit was that of the dead girl, a job neither detective was looking forward to.

Sarah plopped into the passenger side of the car with a sigh. She closed her eyes and let the cool glass soothe her aching head. The Witchblade was on a rampage, flooding her mind with images and sounds and emotions. She could feel the children's immense terror, but her mind couldn't focus on their attacker. All she could see were two mysteriously glowing red eyes on a dark form.

"I know what you mean McCarty. These files don't show any obvious sort of link between the victims. They went to different schools, their parents had no business connections. Hell, the girl is from the Brooklyn barrio, while Trina is a midtown Manhatten sort of girl. Private Catholic school, uniform the works. The boy too, these kids weren't cut from the same cloth, economically anyway."

Jake slapped the wheel in frustration. "What are we going to tell her parents Pez? We're sorry your daughter is dead, but because you're not rich like the mayor's daughter we can't help you?"

That comment stung. "That's not what I meant Jake. And you know it. We need a link, and no matter what angle I come at this from, I just don't see one."

He mumbled an apology. "I know you didn't mean it like that Pez. I'm just, I'm frustrated." He pulled the car into an empty spot a block away from the Connor's apartment.

The girl's parents were still in a state of shock. Uniforms had brought them the news of their daughter's death a few hours before. The mother was sobbing quietly and the father was doing his best to remain strong, but Sarah didn't miss the glassy eyes.

Twenty minutes later they were still nowhere. "I don't understand how this could have happened. She was such a good girl. She never would have talked to a stranger, never would have gone with someone she didn't know." The father shook his head solemnly, his gaze locked on the 5x7 photograph of his daughter.

"Do you have any idea who could have done this? Do the other parents know anything that could help you catch the man that killed Shannon?"

Sarah shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, but at the moment all of our leads have turned up dry. The kidnappings seem to be completely random. But we'll keep in touch and let you know what's going on with the investigation."

Jake took up the questioning then. Something drew Sarah to the window. She leaned her shoulder against the wall and moved aside the light drape so she could see outside. There was a man watching the apartment form across the street, a vagrant. Sarah's eyes narrowed. It couldn't be....but it was. She had seen the same man at the mayor's house and at the boy's. She wished she could see his face, wished that she wasn't quite so far away. The man noticed the rustling of the curtains and took off at a fast walk down the street. He disappeared behind a corner.

She turned her attention back to the family. At least Jake seemed back to normal, sort of. "...Sir, is there anyone you know of that may have wanted to cause your daughter harm, to cause you harm?"

Connor's sat thoughtfully a moment before finally shaking his head. "No I can't say there is. Everyone loved Shannon."

"Oh please Nathan!" The mother spoke up for the first time. "Everyone loving our daughter was the problem. Did you ever think about him, that psycho?" Her face was red and blotchy from crying, but her voice had an edge to it, like she was angry.

"Now honey, I really don't think we can go around accusing people...."

She cut him off. "Don't be stupid. It was him I know it!"

"Who?" Sarah prodded.

"That bum, that useless piece of garbage!" The woman was not being very coherent. "I told you what would happen, and you told me I was being paranoid. Now our daughter is dead Nate, dead! Do you still think I'm being paranoid?" With that final outburst Mrs. Connors ran out of the room, weeping uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry about that, my wife is very distraught at the moment as you can understand. It's nothing."

Sarah's mind was reeling. Bum? Vagrant? Could Mrs. Connors have been talking about the man outside the window?

"Please sir," Jake urged. "even if it is nothing my partner and I need to check out all the angles."

He let out a long sigh. "All right, but really officers my wife is overreacting. The man is completely harmless. A few weeks ago my wife found Shannon talking with a homeless man outside of school. Shannon had given him her lunch money and they got to talking." He swallowed hard. "Shannon was like that, so generous. Anyway, my wife yelled at Shannon and the man, but right before she was taken we found them talking again. It's coincidence, nothing more. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go check on my wife. I'll see you to the door."

The partners didn't say anything until they reached the car. Once inside they started to talk, letting the engine idle and the car warm. "So what do you think?" Sarah asked.

"About what, the vagrant?" She nodded. "I'm not sure. I suppose it's possible, but how does that link in with the other kids? There are just so many holes."

Their conversation was momentarily put on pause as a call came over the radio. Jake picked it up. Sarah let herself be consumed by thought. A few moments later Jake pulled speedily from their spot. "They just found another body," he told her grimly, and they took off down the street.

--

The dark man stood in front of the chamber. He didn't notice Trina watching him from the back corner of her little cell. Sweat trickled from his brow as he focused his attention on his open palm. He uttered a few words in a language Trina couldn't understand.

A small, eerie smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. The crimson eyes flickered dangerously. A small red ball of fire had formed above his palm. It floated there, tantalizing him.

His laughter filled every inch of the little room. His shoulders shook uncontrollably. He could feel his power returning to him, little by little it coursed more fervently through his veins. Soon, very soon his strength would have fully returned. Then he would go after her, to destroy the last of the line, and the Witchblade itself, forever.

End Chapter 2

Hope you like this chapter as much as the first. Usually I take longer than this to write another chapter, but the response was fantastic, so I figured I should post again soon, so you didn't lose your interest. Gabriel is coming in later, promise. Like it so far?