An epilogue that…um…epilogue-izes. Also a hint of things to come….all right I admit it. Blatant self-advertising for upcoming story. Go ahead, and sue. Go ahead and take my fortune of nine dollars. And I hope you're happy with my George Washingtons, while I revel in literary creativity.
Epilogue
~*~*~*~
Labor Day of 2001
Daybreak Mansion
All attempts to confiscate illegal drinks had been prepared. Last year's fiasco was not, absolutely not, to be repeated. Thierry stationed certain friends to casually sniff out any beverages. He had people watch the punch to avoid contamination. And invitations spelled out specific items that could have been brought, and certain liquids that were not to be tolerated. He had thought everything out.
Except the deliberate ignorance of door guards, bribery of fruit punch watchers, and the selective reading capabilities of his Daybreakers. So all attempts to confiscate illegal drinks had been prepared…and failed miserably.
He watched as the gathering grew more boisterous, and wondered how the raucous party was the product of his quiet, serene soul mate. But then again, she was more tolerant of mischief than he was.
All guests who were invited arrived. And even those whose invitations were "lost in the mail" graced the palatial home; because the Elder's celebrations were simply not to be missed. From across the massive room, near the entrance, Thierry spied Hannah, who was staring intently at the main door. He told her mentally not to bother; that the pair would most likely not turn up. Her only response was a vaguely irritated glare.
He was so distracted at staring at the girl that he didn't notice an agitated person nearing him until the two collided violently. Thierry, of course, had enough agility to avoid falling flat on his face, but the same could not have been said for other. Thierry smiled, puzzled, down at Philip North.
"Sorry about that," Thierry apologized loudly over the ear bleeding music and offered a hand.
Philip squinted up at the man, because it was more difficult for him to see through the dimness. "My fault," he replied and took the hand. "Jerry, isn't it?"
"Thierry," he corrected, with some surprise for the mistake. Everybody knew his name. Then he remembered that this North didn't always warm up to extra-species events, be it Daybreak or not.
"Morgead's been stalking me all night," the taller boy explained, disgusted as he dusted himself off. "I think it has something to do with Claire."
"What does Jez have to say about that?"
Philip shrugged. "The last time I saw her, she was bothering Claire. Weird."
Thierry studied Poppy's brother, wondering if he was as slow as he let on. The red haired energetic vampire often raved about Philip's intelligence. Obviously, the two were trying to set them up and, even more obvious, they were failing. But Philip maintained the innocently confused expression, and Thierry wryly agreed to the strangeness of it all.
Moving on, and towards the direction of Hannah, somebody once again intercepted his path.
"Mary Lynette," he acknowledged politely, and then stepped to the side of her. She mirrored his action so that she blocked him once again.
"What on earth," she began, annoyed, "is Patrick White doing here?"
Thierry paused for a moment, privately trying to match a face with a name. "Oh," he finally said, remembering, "Rowan brought him."
"But why?"
"Don't be worried about him finding out anything," he assured her. "He just thinks this is a normal party in Las Vegas."
"I'm not worried about that," she told him, looking around. "You should be worried though. I swear if that boy comes within an inch of my personal space again—"
"Oh don't worry!" Both turned to Rowan, who was standing behind them. "I already described, in detail, who he could not harass. You, Blaise, Hannah…you know everybody. Almost everybody, I think" Mary Lynnette did not look pleased. "Oh come on!" Rowan gestured helplessly. "He told me his uncle died of cancer, and I can't bear it when people around me are that unhappy—"
"His 'uncle' was his hamster's name! Who probably died from neglect!"
"Well, we found that out after we arrived here, didn't we?" Rowan returned testily. "And I couldn't just send him back to Oregon!"
"Oh yes you could've! In fact—"
"I'll just leave you two to sort this out," Thierry hollered delicately, and moved away. He glanced towards the exit and sigh disappointedly. Great, he lost her. Maybe the couple she had been anticipating had arrived.
Leaving the masses was like stepping from the Sahara to Alaska in two seconds flat. He moved towards the anteroom, hoping to discern some figure, when somebody accosted him from behind.
"Hey, boss, if you're lookin' for the missus, she ain't there. I think that's Kestrel and Hugh in there." Thierry's eyebrows rose at Kyros' new information. "Yeah, I know; I figure she's either killing or seducin' him in there, can't decide which. But I'm glad to see that our great minds think alike, 'cos it was getting crowded in there—ya know, I think it's your fault, ya really do have too many alcoholic beverages in there, not that I could complain. But some people can't hold their vodka like I can, so—"
"Kyros," he nearly shouted, and then calmed himself. "Kyros, we can continue this later."
"Sure," the Arctic fox said amiably, unhurt by his employer's volume. "Just wanted to let you know that the last enclave you sent me to?" Thierry nodded, confirming. "Empty as a procrastinator's self-help meeting."
"Good job," Thierry threw impatiently over his shoulder as he strode away. "Take a vacation."
"No, boss, you don't get it," Kyros called after him, matching his pace. "It was already empty when we got there."
That made him pause. Because the music was blaring with something, in Thierry's opinion, obscene, the two moved to the east parlor. The bass still shook the opulent walls, but at least they could hear each other without straining their throats. "But…how?"
Kyros lit his cigarette before answering. Irritated by the smoke, Thierry opened the door. "Accordin' to one of your hippies, they might all be goin' to Anomina, Massachusetts."
"And what's there?"
He shrugged, and paused to ogle a witch passing by the opened double doors. Thierry waited patiently now, because he knew, for a fact, that the male youth couldn't quite control their drooling reflexes. Then the New York native remembered himself.
"Not much. Livestock. People. But it's quiet, and they don't seem to be doin' much trouble. At least not yet. I'm thinkin' they're waiting till they have enough people to do some damage." The boy's brown eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, yeah, I can go! C'mon boss, you gotta send me, I haven't been to Boston yet—"
Thierry's hand shot up to stop the onslaught of words. Kyros was lucky the hand didn't ball into a fist and bruise his jaw. Thierry had always found this particular employee immensely irritating. "We'll wait until, and if, the numbers grow. And, you wouldn't mind if Quinn went with you, would you?"
Kyros stared up at him, uncomprehending. "But…boss…he's higher in rank. That would mean…aw, hell, boss, you don't trust me any more? I've been on five freakin' missions on my own—"
"And on all five you've gotten tangled with some witch, shifter, vampire, wolf, human—and it's always complicated your operations."
He shrugged uneasily. "I solved the problems pretty good," he mumbled sulkily.
"Pretty well," he corrected. Kyros stared at the floor, frowning darkly. Thierry felt a stab of guilt, as always when one of his Daybreakers grew angry with him. But he must follow the rules, and couldn't spoil this one, just as he didn't spoil the others, by relenting. If he caved in with every drooping bottom lip, there would have been fifty agents on every quaint town. "Quinn will keep you in line," he said firmly.
"Quinn can go—" He never got to finish. Both noticed the abrupt stop in music, and rushed across the marble tiles in scant seconds. The lights were still dimmed, but the hundreds who filled the room were no longer dancing. Sensing apprehension from his soul mate, Thierry wove through the stunned crowd, towards the opposite wall where the speakers and disc jockey resided. And when he finally broke through his sweaty friends, he was puzzled as to why Hannah didn't laugh.
Patrick White lay achingly in the mess that used to be turntables. Rowan kneeled beside him, while Hannah hovered around fretting. And, of course, his favorite former wild power stood three feet away from them.
Maria Tybal stood, rubbing her knuckles, until she saw Thierry frowning at her. She bit her lip guiltily, and widened her eyes as she approached him. "It's not my fault, Thierry, honestly it isn't," she pleaded in a child like voice. "He started it. He sexually harassed me. We should kill him."
An audible ripple of admonition spread through the surrounding crowd, and Thierry felt it whole heartedly. "Maria," he reproved sternly. "It didn't work before and it won't work now." Then she frowned, making her appear older and more like herself.
"Well, it's better that I punch him for grabbing my ass than Valdis over there." Thierry looked over her head, and saw Valdis shrug innocently. A peculiar bandage was on his temple, and Thierry suspected Maria was the culprit. "He could have killed him."
Thierry had to admit it was a good point. Then Rowan said, with loud realization, "That's who I forgot! Patrick you shouldn't harass Maria Tybal!"
"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" Patrick moaned.
Somebody in the swarm suggested they fix the music. The disc jockey went to work on it instantly, and Thierry suggested alcohol for her bleeding knuckles. And when he turned away, he heard a sharp cry emitted from Patrick again.
He quickly glanced back and saw White clutching his shin, howling in pain, while Valdis physically restrained the tiny, black haired girl responsible for the kick. Then, any other expletive uttered was drowned out by the resuscitated music.
Thierry helped Patrick up, told Hannah to meet him in rec-room and marched up to Valdis Eldson, who he unfairly held responsible for not interfering. At the sight of Thierry's harsh expression, Maria stopped struggling and looked at anything but him.
"Both of you, stay out of trouble. Don't start fights with others, don't start fights between yourselves—"
"Now that," Valdis objected, "we can't promise. I mean, come on." Valdis looked meaningfully down at his burden, and Thierry softened, sympathizing.
"You," Thierry redirected his strict tone to Maria, "stop it. You can't be the center of attention every time you come here. It's selfish." The young woman pouted. "And get something for that," he suggested, looking at her hand.
"Right," she agreed happily, and snatched a Shirley Temple out of a passerby's hand. Thierry snatched it back and handed it to the rightful, bewildered owner.
"I meant rubbing alcohol." Maria shrugged as Thierry made a bee line for the rec-room.
He was so close, just a few precious feet away from the double doors that led to a stair way, that led to a hall way, that led to his precious soul mate, when an obstacle popped up. He sighed, resigned, and leaned against the wall. No use fighting it.
Rashel studied him worried, wondering what made him so depressed. "It's nothing big, Thierry. Just thought you wanted to know dragons aren't quite extinct yet."
"Of course not. We've got some in Circle Daybreak, and some free lancers—" She shook her head.
"No. Night World dragons. We assumed that all the dragons the council awakened were used in the Battle. Not true. One's been identified on the East Coast."
"And, what's he been doing?" he yawned, his brain abnormally fuzzy. God, all he had to do was get to Hannah and he'd be much more alert.
Rashel shrugged. "Nothing much. But it's pretty suspicious if you ask me. I think—"
"In a few months, okay, Rashel? It's been almost two years…you and Quinn have to relax once in a while. Have some fun." Rashel raised an eyebrow. "Dance."
"We like to work," she responded defensively as he backed out the door. He smiled tiredly.
"Sure. Just…wait a few weeks, okay?" Rashel nodded, uncertain, and was lost in the crowds. Thierry watched for a moment, at the sight of them all. Some with soul mates, some without. The last great love story, Maria and Valdis quibbling in one corner. The next potential fairy tale; a confused Philip being pushed towards an embarrassed Claire. Rowan helping the limping Patrick out of the room. Blaise and, surprisingly enough, Aradia with their own entourage of admirers. They were all so happy, even if they didn't know it.
He just hoped it stayed that way.
Questions for Frozen Fire
(Note, I don't really think this part infringes on the Fan Fiction rules, because it relates to my fan fiction. And I do have an epilogue. So don't tattle because…it's mean and people never like tattlers.)
Many people (friends mostly) have politely pointed out some mistakes or miscalculations from the story. Also some questions to the plot. Here is a little bit to answer. Also, I've replaced/edited the other chapters because all my mistakes were annoying me.
At the end of chapter one, the knife used against Maria was partly wooden. When she was changed into vampire, wouldn't the wound still be fatal?
Answer: Yes. But, you can't very well have the heroine die after the first chapter. It sort of ruins the whole story. So let's pretend that it is possible for a smooth transformation.
Delos doesn't interact with Hannah as he did in the book Soul mate. Why?Answer: I read that book last, in the middle of writing this. And I didn't want to go back and change it. I'm lazy. Also, I kinda sorta kinda…didn't read Spellbinder. So things are off in that quarter, there's a reason. Not a good one, but there is a reason.
Also, if there are other interactions that don't agree with the L.J. Smith planned, I heartily apologize. My mother has given/thrown away all my L.J. Smith books except two, so I have virtually no reference.
The countdown at the end of chapter three is impossible, seeing as all the families who took part were in different time zones (notice how this isn't a question, just a point out. Mean, evil, logical friends…)Answer: True. But, again, let's pretend it was.
Valdis claims that he helped Ash leave the island. Didn't Quinn do that?Answer: Yes. But, let's just say that Quinn was busy (doing something, I don't know. Brooding/ suicidal stuff, which seems to be fitting) and needed another bad guy's help.
Is it possible for Ash to have that many friends with seedy pasts who needed his help/ gave help? (this was somewhat sarcastic :0P)Answer: Of course. Ash is a Redfern (who always seem to be popular or notorious), and is cute as a button!The Day breakers, who all appear to be young, are in and out of the house at all times. What about school?
Answer: Thierry sent millions of witches or vampires to each school to get them excused with mental power. No. I'm lying. I didn't think of school, because for the most part, I've hated it. And I have no answer to rationalize my plot so I'll just leave you with this to think about and forget that question:
Psychological Paradox
The statement below is true
The statement above is false
Ponder and forget…ponder and forget…
In chapter four, when Kestrel was knocked over by Keller, and then helped up by James, she didn't seem to know who he was. Aren't they cousins and shouldn't cousins recognize each other?Answer: Yes they should. But A) Kestrel had just been treated with a less than gentle witch on a nasty boo-boo. She's bound to be distracted. And 2) From what I remember, James has been living in California (right?) and she's been living on an enclave for most of her life. Lastly, C) do you really think that Kestrel has time to meet all the Redferns and extended families? From the fan fiction I've read, there are a lot of Redferns!
Who would win between a fight of Rashel and Keller? (Nothing to do with the story, really, but often asked and thought of)Answer: If allowed to shift, Keller hands down. Come on, y'all, a panther verses a human? If not allowed, and no weapons, still Keller cuz she's got muscles. If no shifting allowed, but weapons allowed, Rashel because she's resourceful. And I like her.
How was the double persons thing in the last chapter possible? (Maria, other Maria, alley way…)
Answer: Um….er…magic? Yeah, magic! Whenever there's miscalculations or something, let's just say magic took care of it. So if there are other illogical events or results, my answer is magic. Whew, that takes care of everything else!
