A Quick Word...

Well, it's been... a little while since I've updated this. Sorry about the exceedingly long wait between the installments for something that, I'll admit, is a bit of a simplistic story, but between everything that's happened over the past year, some writing burnout in the White Wolf fandom, long commutes that are only getting longer, and my preparations for the upcoming FDNY test, I've had my hands full. Hopefully, I'll be able to get this finished by the beginning of September, to at least put this thing to bed, if not get back in the writing frame of mind again. So for all of you that are actually waiting for this, enjoy. This chapter is only a setup, pretty much, but I think I should be able to get the big, obligatory fight scene done within a couple of weeks. So after a very long intermission, on with the show...

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"For a bunch of idiots, they pull off a good ambush."

"They do," Alexei agreed, looking back to Max as the young man gazed out over the view of Central Park from Karamov's penthouse apartment on Central Park West. After Brooke's violent kidnapping on the steps of Alexei's office building, the Shadow Lords had been forced to move to his apartment to avoid the mass of police and media that had thronged to the area. The Russian swirled the ice in his glass of bourbon for a moment as he considered the situation, then set the drink down on a coaster on his glass coffee table. "But we still don't know where they went."

"Probably to Nigel Chouinard," Max suggested in a faintly sarcastic tolongerne, turning away from the glass doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the park. Alexei scowled faintly at his younger packmate from his leather recliner.

"Who's Nigel Chouinard?" Tanya inquired, sitting on the plush white couch opposite the lawyer.

"Apparently, some kind of mage that's off his nut," Max replied, turning to the young woman. "He wants Brooke for some kind of summoning."

"Matt didn't see anything in her when he examined her aura," Tanya said, recalling their meeting with the Glass Walker earlier in the day. Alexei shrugged.

"The mage may simply be delusional," the Philodox decided. He paused for a moment. "Or maybe Matt was still drunk or high."

"That's always a possibility," Max remarked, though there was very little humor in his voice. The glass doors to the balcony opened then, and Jack walked into the apartment.

"We'll have company in about five minutes," the ahroun stated simply.

"Anyone we want to see?" Alexei inquired, not yet showing any concern over the news."

"Narducci, Abinanti, and Perillo," Jack answered, letting only a hint of disgust through in his voice.

"All three of them?" Max asked. "Including Jeremy?"

"Matt doesn't have a car, and Gerald got his license suspended," Tanya explained. "Besides, Jeremy knows everything a kinfolk could know. Just because he doesn't grow fur and claws, doesn't mean he's useless."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually liked him," Matt said with a bit of a smirk. Tanya rolled her eyes, but said nothing to deny the ragabash's accusation.

"Did Narducci tell you he was going to be dropping by?" Alex asked Tanya, ignoring the younger pair's banter.

"He didn't say anything to me," the galliard replied with a shrug. "He said he was going to check a few things with one or two of his elders, but that was about it."

"Jack, go let them in," Alexei said, gesturing to the door. A second later, a loud knock sounded outside.

"Good timing," Max said. Jack walked across the spacious living room and opened the door for the Glass Walkers. Matt and Jeremy walked into the living room, accompanied by a third, far larger Italian with close cut, peroxide blond hair and an assortment of tattoos running down his arms.

"You still got her, right?" Matt asked, turning immediately to Alex.

"Why?" the Shadow Lord inquired.

"I just found something really disturbing out," Matt answered. "So you still got her, right? She's in the bedroom or something, right? Just taking a rest after those Black Spirals ambushed your office, right?"

"She was kidnapped," Alex replied flatly. Matt ran a hand through his faintly long hair as he started to pace across the floor.

"Oh man, this is so not good," the theurge said. "Thi8s is really so not good. Do you know where they are?"

"No," Alex replied, standing. "Why don't you tell me what you know about her?"

"He didn't even tell us," Jeremy said. "Me and Gerald've been asking him for about half an hour, and he just keeps doing that retarded idiot savant shit."

"Oh man, this is so not good," Matt muttered again.

"Tell me why this is so not good," Alex said, finally grabbing the theurge by the arm and forcibly stopping his pacing. Matt looked up at him for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," the Glass Walker finally said. "Well, when I looked at Brooke's aura, there was really nothing out of the ordinary about it, but it was still pretty noticeable in the Umbra. Now, most people, you can't see them from the Umbra., or at least not well. You know, the whole permanency thing and all that, separation of Spirit and Physical, and I have this theory on the spiritual decay of man linked-"

"Matt," Alex said. Matt stopped, and gathered his thoughts again.

"Oh yeah," the theurge said. "So, like I said, if you're looking pretty hard, you can make out human auras sometimes in the Umbra, at least if you're a theurge and are trained for this kind of thing and all. So anyway, when I could see her fairly easily, I thought maybe it was no big deal. I mean, sometimes a hangover'll do that to you. But I asked my old teacher about it, and you know what he said?"

"Surprisingly, no," Max said.

"She's a spiritual conduit!" Matt exclaimed. The living room fell into silence for a moment.

"So, this means, what?" Tanya asked, voicing the entire group's confusion. Matt looked around for a moment, finally realizing that no one understood his explanation.

"Oh," the Glass Walker said. "Okay. Well, every once in a while, otherwise normal people can be born with a kind of tie to the spirit world. I mean, nothing much, but if something traumatic happens to a mother in late term pregnancy, a kid could, theoretically, have a better tie to the spirit world. Most of the time they never know it, but a few are plagued by poltergeists or ghosts, which are really minor spirits tapping into their life force to manifest in the physical world for a short time. Most of the time, it's really harmless, and even kind of amusing."

"Most of the time," Alex repeated. Matt nodded.

"If you know how to do it, you can suck something really big and nasty out of the spirit world," the theurge said. "You'll end up killing the conduit, since you need the life force to manifest the nasty thing, but you could bring something really, really bad into the world."

"This is so not good," Jeremy said, shaking his head.

"Don't you start, too," Gerald said, turning to the kinfolk.

"We were going to help you protect her, but now" Matt trailed off, looking to Alex for a long moment.

"Can you track a conduit by any means?" the philodox asked. Matt started to shake his head, but then stopped, lost in thought.

"I might," the theurge finally said. "But I'm going to have to alter a few rituals around."

"Then don't waste time talking to me," Alex directed.

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"Please just let me go."

"Sorry, kid," Callow said, leaning back on a tattered, black couch in the middle of the otherwise deserted warehouse. "Can't do that."

"What do you want from me?" Brooke asked, desperately trying to pull her wrists free of the handcuffs that bound her hands behind a metal post in the middle of the huge, gutted building. While she had no idea where Xavier and his friends had taken her, she had the feeling that they were no longer in Manhattan. Callow shrugged as he considered the girl's question, then smiled slightly.

"You wouldn't happen to have a roast beef and pastrami hero and a large bag of salt and vinegar chips on you, would you?" the fat man inquired, sitting up slightly and looking marginally more attentive. Brooke hesitated for a long moment, unable to tell if the huge Black Spiral Dancer was serious.

"Fucker's always hungry," Spook said, startling the girl as he leaned on the post behind her. Brooke tried to move away from Callow's packmate, frightened by the overtly menacing gleam in the black man's eyes. "Pretty soon he ain't even gonna be able to stand up on his own. They'll need a crane to move his lard ass around."

"And I'll still be able to kick your skinny little ass all over the Bronx," Callow finished. "When can I go get something to eat? I'm bored as fuck."

"Well maybe we could play with her for a little while," Spook said with a faint grin as he gestured to Brooke. The girl froze for a moment, but Callow, fortunately, looked far less than interested in having to move off of the couch for anything other than food.

"Yeah, and Xavier'll get all upset about how she's all stretched out or something by the time he gets to her," the fat Black Spiral Dancer said with a hint of disgust. "Besides, he said not to do anything with her until Nigel shows up."

"Fuck Nigel," Spook said. "He can kiss my ass."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was dark out," Callow said with a bit of a smirk. Spook's smile started to melt into a look of anger, but the smaller Spiral said nothing. Finally, he looked down at Brooke again, and regarded her for a few seconds. The girl tried to meet his gaze defiantly, but the man's stare seemed to burn right through her and forced her to turn away.

"Why don't you go get something to eat?" Spook suggested, finally looking up at Callow. The fat man considered the offer for a moment, but then shook his head.

"I'm comfortable where I am," he said simply. Spook flipped up his middle finger at the fat man, then stormed out of the warehouse. As the building fell silent behind the black man's departure, Brooke turned to her remaining captor.

"Thank you," she said. Callow looked up at the girl, and started to laugh a little.

"You don't know what a whiny little bitch Xavier can be when he doesn't get first crack," the fat man said. Brooke tried to smile, thinking that the comment was meant as a joke, but something in the man's eyes told her that he truly was more concerned with Xavier's reaction than her welfare.

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"Are you sure that thing works?"

"Come on, Max, give it a rest," Matt Narducci said as he continued to watch the tiny screen on the palm pilot that he had taken from Alexei earlier in the day. "This ain't an exact science. I mean, it's part spiritual favors, part Glass Walker intuition, and part blind luck. Turn left here."

"I can't explain to you how much that reassures me," Max stated as he turned onto Amsterdam Avenue and continued north through Harlem. Max and Matt were the forward scouting team for the search party, following the directions, Max assumed, of a spirit that broadcast them to the theurge through Alexei's daily planner. The Shadow Lord glanced over to his smaller companion, but could see nothing other than a few words displayed across the palm pilot's screen. "Do we have a final destination, or are we just going to wander around the colored sections of the city for a while?"

"I'm getting directions," Matt said. "Stay on this until we get to the Macombs Bridge."

"I don't even think that spirit you're talking to has any idea where we're going," Max decided, turning back to the road.

"Don't insult it!" Matt exclaimed, turning to the ragabash. "If it hear you, it may not tell me where Brooke is!"

"Oh," Max said, a definite note of skeptical sarcasm in his voice. Matt shot an irritable glance over to the driver, but said nothing. "So, we're going to the Bronx?"

"Seems that way," Matt replied. The two sat in silence for another two minutes, until Matt leaned forward to turn on the radio.

"Don't touch that," Max said, not even taking his eyes off the road as they approached the Macombs Dam Bridge.

"Come on," Matt said, still leaning halfway forward to turn on the radio. "We've been sitting in silence since we left the office."

"I know," Max said. "We don't want to break the spirit's concentration, do we?"

"He can't hear it in the Umbra," Matt grumbled. Max chuckled slightly.

"Just to be on the safe side," the ragabash said. "Which way off the bridge? Up Jerome, or down to the South Bronx?"

"He says to head south on the Deegan," Matt answered. "South Bronx it is."

"I hate the South Bronx," Max muttered, turning onto the Major Deegan Expressway. "You know there's about eight bridges to the south of here that we could have taken."

"Hey, I'm just following this thing's directions," Matt explained, holding out the palm pilot. "Besides, you didn't want to take the Triborough. It's almost rush hour."

"And we're on the Deegan," Max observed as the traffic slowed to a crawl ahead of them. The two sat in silence again for a moment before the ragabash turned to his companion. "You said the spirit needs the victim's life force to manifest in htre spirit world?"

"Yeah," Matt replied, focusing on the palm pilot. "We could at least listen to the radio quietly."

"What happens if the conduit dies before the manifestation is complete?" Max inquired. Matt's eyes shot up instantly from the daily planner.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Matt demanded. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe Brooke won't have enough life force or whatever it is bring a really, really nasty thing into the physical world," Max answered. Matt narrowed his eyes for a long moment. "Really," the Shadow Lord replied. "I'm not going to shoot her or anything. I kind of like the girl. It's just too bad she wasn't five years older."

"I don't know," Matt said, still watching the ragabash. Max glanced over at him for a moment, then finally laughed.

"I may be an assassin, but I have scruples," the Shadow Lord remarked. Matt remained thoroughly skeptical "I don't kill kids."

Matt stared at the ragabash for another second, then looked down to the palm pilot again. Max chuckled one last time as he returned his full attention to his driving.

"Bam! We got it!" Matt suddenly exclaimed. "Canal Street and One Thirty-eighth! Step on it, driver!"

"Call Alex, and let him know where we're going," Max said, starting to fight his way across the crowded expressway. "And let's get this over with."

_________________________________________

"I'm really sorry, honey, but this is the only way."

"Please don't do this," Brooke begged, desperately seeking a way out of the nightmare that her life had become. Xavier leaned down over her, pinning her arms above her head while Spook clasped silver shackles around her wrists and Bickle similarly secured her ankles. Spread out on a crude altar of empty oil drums and wooden pallets, Brooke could only watch in fear as Callow lazily traced out a bizarre spiraling pattern on the ground around her in the fading light of the setting sun. "Please," Brooke pleaded, turning back to Xavier. "I'll do anything. Anything you want. Just please don't kill me."

"We're not gonna kill ya, ya ditzy bitch," Spook put in, tugging one of the chains to test its strength.

"Shut up, Spook," Bickle put in, glaring across the altar at his packmate. "She's going to be taking part in a very special occasion, so show her some respect."

"Trust me, Brooke, this is what you want," Xavier said, gazing down lovingly at the girl bound to the altar. "Do you remember when we first met? You were so disillusioned. You were nothing, a tiny part of nothing, and you so wanted to be more than you were. Now, you'll be remembered reverently whenever we speak of you. Your dreams are coming true."

"But this isn't what I want!" Brooke countered frantically. "I don't want to die, Xavier! Please don't kill me!"

"But we aren't going to kill you," Xavier replied, gently caressing her cheek. "We're not going to harm you in any way. We can't harm you. You need all your strength to do what must be done."

"What are you going to do with me?" Brooke asked, trying to slip her already bloody and torn wrists free of the shackles.

"Help you," Xavier said. "We're going to help you bring our lord into the world."

"Your lord?" Brooke repeated, confused and terrified. Spook nodded with an enthusiastic grin.

"Yeah," the black man agreed with a broad grin. "So stop squirming and just go with the flow, bi-atch."

"Hey Xavier," Callow called out, finished with his line painting. The fat Black Spiral Dancer was standing near a side door of the warehouse. "He's here."

"But it's not even dark yet!" Bickle exclaimed, turning to Callow. Callow simply shrugged.

"I guess it's a special occasion," the ahroun said with a thoroughly disinterested shrug. Xavier and Bickle glanced to each other for a moment. Even Spook, for all of his talk earlier in the day, fell into a tense silence.

"Who's here?" Brooke asked timidly, looking to Xavier.

"Nigel," the pack leader answered, his voice a nervous whisper.