Danger Zone

By Divamercury

Hello, everyone! I'm back! Sorry about the delay, but exams are coming up soon and the teachers are being relentless about the homework. I was just lucky to have today off from the work. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I worked really hard! ;) Please read and review!

~DM

Chapter 27

"Mr. Miller? Mr. Miller?" Joyce's voice came from what seemed like miles away. My eyelids felt heavier than lead but I was able to raise them after a few minutes. Joyce's distinctive features hovered over me. "Are you all right, sir?"

I looked around and discovered that I had fallen out of my chair and was sprawled out on the floor. I pushed myself up to a sitting position and nodded. "I'm fine, Joyce. Would you mind holding down the fort for a while? I need some fresh air, so I'm going to take a walk." I rose to my feet. Perhaps I'd run into Raven if I went in the right direction

"It's quite chilly outside," Joyce said, going to a closet and retrieving a jacket, handing it to me. "Stay out as long as you need to, sir. I'll keep things under control." I nodded and left my office.

* * *

I was fuming over the phone call I had just received. The highest-ranking White Bull still alive after the massacre at the warehouse had phoned me and informed me of the damage done to the organization. I wasn't surprised that Sara had killed Dantehe had probably been running his mouth off again and had angered her and the Witchblade so much that the blade was compelled to bury itself in his abdomen. Now Rick Horace, the self-proclaimed new leader of the very few remaining White Bulls, was adamant in making a deal with the Speakers. He dared to challenge me? I owned him. Apparently he had no idea what I could do to him.

"We won't be able to bring down the bitch unless we have more manpower!" he had said.

I told him, "I'll see what I can do. I'll call Jackson Miller and make him an offer he can't refuse." I was feeling particularly generous at that time.

Now I was about to pick up my phone to call Jackson when my receptionist buzzed in on the intercom and said, "Mr. Irons, there's a call for you on line 1 from Jackson Miller's office."

Well, speak of the devil,' I thought. "Put it through," I said aloud.

"Yes, sir."

I picked up the phone but instead of hearing Jackson's voice, I heard a woman's.

"Hello, Mr. Irons." The voice had just a hint of a French accent.

"Ahh, Yvette Bertin. How are you? I haven't heard much from your end lately. Jackson must be keeping you busy. What ridiculous alias are you using this time? You neglected to tell me last time we spoke."

"Joyce Nelson," she said, probably shuddering at having to say it.

"How on earth did you come up with something thatcommon?"

"I stole it from the 47-year old woman whose name was really Joyce Nelson and was applying for this job, naturally. Lucky that I looked something like her."

"What happened to her?"

"She had a littleaccident."

I laughed. "Assisted by you, of course."

"Of course."

"Well, what do you have to report?"

"You mentioned that something might happen to Jackson if this Raven Cole character got a hold of him. He fell asleep by his computer and then fell out of his chair. I had to call him about twelve times to wake him up."

"Ahh, yes, the parallel plane. Raven became quite good at creating those. Why do you mention it?"

"Obviously she dragged him into one!" I could picture her rolling her eyes as she said it. I sat up straighter in my chair as I digested this information. "So I followed your instructions. The tracer was in the inside pocket of one of his jackets and I gave it to him just a few minutes ago. He said he was going for a walk. No doubt he's going to try and find Raven Cole."

"Damn! She must have realized his past significance," I said. "She was always too intuitive."

"What?" Yvette was lost.

"Stick to spying and covert operations, Yvette. And call the Speakers' Council. Parker Grant would no doubt be interested in what you have to say. He's been looking for a way to get rid of Jackson for years. Perhaps he will have some serviceable ideas."

"Excellent idea, Mr. Irons. I'll call and ask him."

"You do that. Let me know if there are any new developments."

"Yes, sir." We hung up and I sat back. So Jackson was on the move. I thought that he had more dedication to his work. I was surprised that Raven would be the one to entice him away from his chosen path and to his true destiny. But even if she succeeded at luring him in, her efforts would fail in the end. The stars would never allow it.

* * *

"Raven? Hey, Raven! Wake up!" Sara was calling me. I shook myself awake and staggered over to the door of the bedroom, unlocking and opening it. Sara stood there, freshly showered, hands on hips.

"Good grief, Raven, you sleep like the dead! I've been beating on this door for almost twenty minutes. Mac and Gabe picked up some food. Pizza! Thought you might like someand by the way, it might be a good idea to brush your hair while you're up." She grinned as I stalked across to a mirror and gasped at my disheveled appearance. I grabbed a brush and attacked the tangles in my hair.

"Meet you downstairs," Sara said, but I barely heard her. I was busy with making myself look halfway decent. Thankfully I didn't have to do much. I just hoped that the imprint that one of the quilt's seams had left on my face would vanish by the time I got downstairs

* * *

I jogged down the stairs and grinned at Mac as I swept into the living room. A few of the Associates had set up the pizzas on a large table and everyone was making his or her way over to the fragrant pies, snagging a piece or two as they went by.

"Someone's in a good mood," Gabe remarked.

"The best," I said. I took a bite of pizza. "For the first time ina long time, things are actually going right."

Gabe winked at me and motioned to something with his eyes. I followed his gaze, which I discovered was focused on Ian. I rolled my eyes.

"Will you ever give it a rest?" I asked. "You're pissing me off."

"Since when has that ever stopped me? Chief, you know it's there. We all do. You're the only one that refuses to see it."

"Gabe, you're joining the ranks of the ones that spew mumbo-jumbo and make my life very irritating. That habit could become very life-threatening if you continue."

"Okay, okay. Chill out. Just trying to push you in the right direction to achieve your happiness, that's all." He started to leave.

"Don't start pulling the kicked-puppy' routine, Gabe!" I called. He waved me off and left. I sat down at one of the tables and munched sullenly on pizza in solitude until Mac and Raven finally came in and joined me with slices of their own.

"What's with Ian? Does he have a pizza phobia?" I asked Raven when she sat down.

"Come again?" she asked, taken aback.

"Does he not like pizza? Or is he just intimidated by this cluster of women?"

Raven looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed. "A little of both, I think. We intimidate him—well, occasionally. But I'm not sure about the pizza thing. We never really experienced pizza while we were under Irons's care. Hell, we didn't experience a lot of things while we were under Irons's care."

"Did you two have any semblance of a childhood?" Mac asked between bites of pizza.

"Not really. Ian and I were strictly supervised by tutors and staff and were rarely just allowed to be kids." She suddenly started laughing.

"What's funny about that? It just seems deranged that a man would stop two kids from having fun while they could," I said, eyebrow raised.

"No, it's not that. I just remember something that happened when Ian and I were about twelve."

"What? Tell us!" Mac and I were dying of curiosity.

"Ian would kill me if I told you."

"No he wouldn't. Besides, I'd just tell him I beat it out of you," I said with a wink.

"All right, all right. When we were starting our sword training, we were awful. I personally cut a huge slice in one of Irons's expensive Oriental rugs and one time when Ian was doing a kata, his hand slipped and he bopped himself in the face with the hilt of his katana! He had a shiner for a week! Both of these happened in the same week and Irons was furious!"

The three of us howled with laughter. My mental pictures of Ian hitting himself in the head with a sword and Raven slitting a carpet were hilarious.

When we calmed down a little, Mac said, "Well, while on the topic of humiliating men we know, Gabe told me something classic.

"One time when he and Sly Marcus were living together, and Gabe had just gotten Talismaniac started, he got hold of an urn that held the remains of an Incan princess or something like that. Anyway, he had to go out of town for a few days because of a family problem and when he got back, he came home to the remnants of a wild party Sly had thrown while he was gone. Apparently Sly and his drunken friends had been scouring the apartment for sweets and they found the urn. They thought it was a cookie jar and they emptied it into the trash, the alcohol keeping them from understanding what they had just done. When Gabe found out he had a fit, because he had an offer for the urn and contents for two hundred grand."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Did he still sell it?" Raven wanted to know.

"Of course! He just filled up the urn with fireplace ashes and the sucker who bought it was never the wiser!" We all cracked up again and were gasping for breath when Ian and Gabe came in, causing us to burst out into helpless laughter as soon as we laid eyes on them. The boys exchanged puzzled and somewhat frightened looks and slowly backed out of the room, leaving us to our giggles.