PART NINE

One month later.

"Ow!" Chloe cried. The sword fell out of her hand, clanging as it hit the concrete floor. Staggering back a step, she pressed her hand to the slash in her right bicep. Within seconds, the warmth of her own blood covered her fingers.

"Tsk, tsk, Chloe," Merrick gave his sword a twirl. "You zigged when you should have zagged."

"Yeah," was all she could manage to say. That blissful moment before her body realized what happened had passed. Now, there was pain. Like someone put a giant razor on her upper arm…then hit it with a sledgehammer.

But she wasn't given much time to think about that, because Merrick kept coming.

Chloe pushed the pain aside. It was a skill she'd learned well after getting poked, slashed and stabbed more than once in the past month. Not to mention the broken nose, sprained ankle, bruised ribs, etcetera, etcetera.

Unable to pick up her own sword, she fell into a fighting stance; hands upraised, body turned to one side. Then she watched, and waited for her teacher's next move.

Merrick swung, the sword whispering as it cut through the air. Chloe jumped back, and it missed slashing her chest open by a fraction of an inch.

His next swing was higher. Instinctively, Chloe ducked, causing the blade to pass harmlessly over her head.

Merrick turned with the momentum of the swing. At the end of his spin, he lashed out. Before Chloe could straighten out of her duck, or stumble away from what she saw coming, his foot slammed into her left shoulder.

Chloe landed on her back, the impact jarring every bone in her body. As the air rushed out of her lungs, she made a sound much like a squeak toy that had been stomped on.

For one long moment, silence filled the small warehouse. Then, another moment passed. And another…

Stepping up to Chloe's side, Merrick frowned down at her. "Will you be getting up some time today?"

Folding her hands across her stomach, Chloe took a deep breath—once she was able to breathe—and let her body relax. Never had being still felt so good. "Getting up?" she mused, pretending to give the matter some thought. "No, I don't think so. I'm really pretty comfortable down here. Thanks anyway." Her eyes drifted to a point above Merrick's head. "Oooh, look at the pretty ceiling."

Smiling, Merrick held out his hand. "Up we go!" he said jovially.

Chloe hesitated, trying to decide which hand to use. Since the arm Merrick cut hurt a little less than the one he'd kicked, she went with the right. Taking Merrick's hand, she allowed herself to be pulled into a sitting position.

"Ow!" she cried, as the slash started to sting more.

"You're an Immortal," Merrick reminded her. "You'll be healed by tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, but it hurts today!" As Merrick hauled her up to her feet, she hissed. Teeth clenched, she grumbled, "Did I mention 'Ow'?"

"Once or twice." Still holding her hand, he studied the slash. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

Chloe looked away. She'd learned, from prior experience, that seeing her own gaping wounds wasn't a lot of fun.

Still, she'd felt worse, especially in the beginning. Four weeks of training had raised her tolerance for pain. Now, when Merrick punched her in the face, she only got a little dizzy. Most of the time.

And Merrick didn't pull those punches, either. No, sir! As he liked to say, she was an Immortal. She'd heal.

She hated to admit it, but she was probably learning faster because he didn't hold back. Maybe she couldn't take Jackie Chan, but there were a few jerks at school who…

"Well, that's not too bad, is it?" Merrick squinted at her cut. "The bleeding's already slowed to a trickle. Still, I'll ready the first aid kit while you freshen up."

With a weak nod, Chloe limped towards the stairs. On the upper level of the warehouse, there was a catwalk that over-looked the main floor. Chloe had thought the offices up there would go unused. Imagine her surprise when Merrick moved into them. But it made sense. This way, he didn't have to pay for a room at the Smallville Inn.

Chloe entered the manager's office-slash-Merrick's bedroom. Walking past the cot, she went into the bathroom.

As Chloe rinsed the blood from her hands and arm, red tinted water turned the porcelain sink pink. She was kind of proud of how casually she did this kind of thing now. When she cut her finger while chopping carrots a few months back, it had been an event. She screamed. She moaned. She got dizzy at the sight of her own blood. She glared at the ER doctor, who said she didn't need stitches, and hinted that she'd overreacted.

Now, it was like bleeding was no big deal.

"How weird is my life?" she muttered as she turned of the water. Hands dripping, she reached for the roll of paper towels Merrick kept in the bathroom. Only to find there weren't any. "Great."

Hands held up like a surgeon's, Chloe went out into the office. Looking around, she saw a towel on the chair Merrick used as a night table. As she picked the towel up, she found a book sitting underneath.

Curious, as always, Chloe picked the dog-eared, paperback copy of Wuthering Heights. She was surprised this was the kind of thing Merrick read. Then again, it was written only about twenty years before he was born. Maybe reading about those times made him feel nostalgic or something.

Shrugging, Chloe opened the book cover and read what was written on the inside.

Property of: Amanda Beardsley (but, you can keep it…if you promise to read it!)

Smiling at the words the previous owner wrote, Chloe returned the book to the chair.

____________________

Merrick dressed her wound in no time at all.

"Look at that. Good as new." Enthusiastically, he rubbed his hands together. "What say we go a few more rounds?"

Groaning, Chloe let her upper body fall over onto the sofa.

Merrick grinned. "Or, we could call it a day."

"That one!" Chloe exclaimed as she sat back up. "I want that one! Enough already. My poor bruises have bruises." Heck, if she were mortal, she doubted she'd be able to move for a couple of days at least. But, being Immortal, she'd wake up tomorrow morning with nary a twinge.

Chuckling, Merrick went over to the card table and rifled through his tote bag. Without warning, he tossed a bottle of water Chloe's way.

Forgetting she didn't intend to move for several hours, Chloe snatched it out of the air, hissing when the pain shot down her arm. Damn her newly sharpened reflexes!

"That's the way!" Merrick said with pride.

"Whoopee," Chloe grumbled as she twisted the top off of the bottle.

Merrick sat in a chair across from her. His ever-present smile seemed almost wistful. "You might hate it now, but there's something very…innocent and pure about this time. Between the moment when you become Immortal, and the moment when you take your first head.  Once you get pulled into the Game, you'll start to miss these moments."

Chloe gave him a doubtful look. "Hmmm, let me see. What will I miss? Getting hit and kicked and tripped. Getting nicked by your sword. The sight of my own blood. The pretty bruises. Yeah, I'll cry myself to sleep every night missing all that." Nodding, she took a sip of water.

"I'm sure you will," Merrick said. "You're probably depressed just thinking about it even now. But this should cheer you up. I've decided to train one or two extra hours every day next week."

Chloe groaned again.

Merrick grinned. "I knew that would lift your spirits!"

"I'm getting out of here," the young girl said. Aches and pains forgotten, she jumped to her feet. "Any more 'cheering up' from you, and I'll need an anti-depressant."

____________________

Lex Luthor studied the customers who were crammed into the Talon. There wasn't a free table to be had. As soon as one group left, there was another there to take their place.

In contrast, when he drove by the Beanery, the former hot spot was almost empty.

Lex nodded in satisfaction. True, he considered the Talon more Lana's than his. He was happy being a silent partner. And his fortune hardly rested on the coffee house's success. But he was a competitive man. And if there was a competition between the establishment he had a stake in and one he didn't, he wanted his to be on top.

As he lifted his cup of coffee, he spotted a familiar face coming through the crowd.

"Clark. Riding solo tonight?"

"Hey, Lex," Clark said. He sat down at the table. "And I guess so. Lana's working." He looked towards the counter, where Lana Lang was being run off of her feet. And looked pretty happy about it. "Pete's been grounded. And Chloe…um." His eyes darted away and back so fast, most people would have missed it. "I guess she's probably working on The Torch."

Lex's antenna went up. Clark Kent had a lousy poker face. And, to Lex Luthor, gauging what people were thinking from their expression, the tone of their voice, the look in their eye, was second nature. So, he almost always knew when Clark was being evasive. When he was hiding something.

Of course, Lex rarely knew what his friend was being evasive about, which was incredibly frustrating at times.

But, in this case, it wasn't too hard to figure out.  Idly curious, Lex wondered where Chloe Sullivan actually was. Tracking a lead for her next exclusive? Spending time with the mysterious Merrick?

"So, Lex," Clark began, interrupting Lex's thoughts. "Mom says your dad's leaving town on Monday."

Lex didn't even try to contain his pleased smile. "Yeah. He's checking into a clinic for another full battery of tests. As you might imagine, dear old dad is impatient to find some way to restore his eyesight sooner rather than later." He raised his cup in a toast. "Let's hope they succeed."

Clark's eyes widened, as if he was surprised by Lex's sincerity.

"Strange, isn't it," Lex agreed. "I'd always thought I'd enjoy seeing him this vulnerable. But one-upping him when he's not at full strength, while somewhat enjoyable, just isn't as satisfying."

"I guess not," Clark said. And, by the frown crinkling his brow, he was struggling to understand. Clark Kent had probably never wanted to see Jonathan Kent weak, vulnerable. Broken. Clark didn't want to beat his dad at anything more serious than a game of checkers.

"Besides," Lex continued, "I need the break. My father's version of 'bonding' is starting to get to me."

Clark snickered.

"Laugh all you like," Lex said. "But there's something you should know. Lionel wants to get to know you better."

Clark's laughter turned into an appalled gasp. "What? Me? Why?" he exclaimed.

"I have no idea. But don't be surprised if you get an invite to a family dinner sometime in the near future." As he watched the color drain from Clark's face, Lex allowed himself a small, malicious smirk. Sometimes revenge, no matter how small, was sweet.

"Hi, guys."

Lex looked up and saw Chloe Sullivan approaching the table.

"Chloe!" Clark exclaimed. He sounded surprised. "Hi."

"Miss Sullivan," Lex said. Frowning, he studied the young woman's gait. She seemed to be…limping.

Clark noticed, too. He stared openly at his friend's feet. "I thought you said you weren't coming tonight," he muttered.

"I wasn't," Chloe said. She unzipped her jacket, but didn't take it off. "But I've been all work and little play lately."

"Working on your next exposé?" Lex asked.

"Huh?" For a moment, the young woman looked at him like he was speaking in a forgotten language. Then… "Oh! Yeah! That's me. Always looking for a story. But, right now, I'd sell the Pulitzer I don't have yet for a coffee." And she turned towards the counter.

"Hey, I'll get it for you." Jumping out of his seat, Clark grabbed the retreating Chloe's left arm.

Chloe yelped, drawing the attention of several customers. Grimacing in obvious pain, she snatched away from Clark's grasp.

Clark took a startled step back. "What? Did I…"

"No, it wasn't you," Chloe said. Casting a wary glance in Lex's direction, she laughed weakly. "I kinda walked into a door this morning. I know. Stupid." Left arm held close to her body, she gently wrapped one hand around her forearm. "It's still sore, that's all." Once again, she turned towards the counter. "Be right back."

Clark watched her limp away with worried eyes.

And Lex wondered if Chloe knew her poker face was almost as bad as Clark's.

As Clark returned to his seat, Lex studied his friend. A concerned frown lingered on the young man's face for several minutes. And Lex's practiced eye detected another emotion simmering under the surface.

Anger.

"Strange," Lex said, measuring his words carefully. "Miss Sullivan never struck me as the clumsy type."

Clark's expression darkened as he stared down at the table. "She isn't. I mean, she usually isn't." For several moments, some inner struggle played out on the young man's face. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he looked up. "Um, Lex. You…you said you might be able to find out more about Merrick?"

Lex's brows rose in surprise. "I did. But you asked me not to."

"I know," Clark sighed, with obvious regret.

"Fortunately," Lex continued. "I recently did some business with the acquaintance Merrick worked for in the past. And his name…came up during one of our conversations."

Clark gave Lex a disapproving look. No doubt he knew that, if Merrick's name had 'come up', it was because Lex wanted it to.

But the disapproval soon gave way to hope. "What did he say?"

Smirking just a little, Lex looked down at his folded hands. "It seems Pierce Woodrose hired Merrick for another job. But he pulled out suddenly. Just a few days before I saw him here in Smallville with Chloe, as a matter of fact."

Clark nodded, as if that information fit with something he already knew.

"I didn't learn much beyond that," Lex continued. "But I'm sure I could find out more."

The offer seemed to hang in the air between them for one long, silent moment.

"I don't know," Clark said, his uncertainty obvious. "Chloe asked me not to…"

"Alright," the young lady in question said, interrupting their conversation. She set a cup of coffee on the table. "What are we talking about?"

"I was just telling Clark my dad's leaving town on Monday," Lex answered smoothly.

Luckily, Chloe wasn't looking at Clark at that moment, or she would've seen his eyes widen in surprise over what Lex said. Instead, the girl was focusing all of her attention on just sitting down.

Lex watched with interest as she carefully lowered herself into her seat, hissing softly all the way. Finally seated, she let out a sigh of relief. Then, as her right hand reached for her coffee, she winced, eyes sparkling with pain.

And Lex started to wonder what he would see if she took her jacket off.

____________________

"Did you really walk into a door?" Clark asked as he followed Chloe to her car.

"What?" Chloe glared at him. "Of course not! I mean, I've had my klutz moments, but I have never walked into a door. Well, not lately, anyway."

"So, what's with the arm?" he asked. "And why are you limping?"

"Oh, that. Merrick got a little carried away with the lesson today, that's all." Walking around to the drivers side, she took out her keys. "I'll be fine in the morning."

Clark studied her across the roof of the car. He understood that Chloe had to learn to fight. He understood it, but he didn't have to like it. Especially since, every time he saw Chloe lately, she was hurt in one way or another. He still vividly remembered her broken nose. Her swollen face and two blackened eyes.

She was able to hide her other injuries from her dad. But there was no hiding that. So, she and Clark cooked up this story about working late on a big school project that was due the next day. Clark's mom—reluctantly—called Mr. Sullivan and asked if she could stay at the farm rather than drive home in the middle of the night.

And, by the time Chloe came down to breakfast the next morning, it was like her nose had never been broken. The swelling was gone, and so were the black circles around her eyes.

Within days, she seemed to have put the entire thing out of her mind. But Clark couldn't. He hated seeing anyone get hurt. Especially if that someone was his best friend.

"Chloe, I just…" Sighing, he folded his arms across the top of her car. "Couldn't you ask him to take it easy, or something?"

She shook her head. "I know it seems pretty harsh, Clark. And definitely feels harsh." She grimaced as she shrugged one shoulder. "But I need to learn to defend myself as soon as I can. And I'm learning much faster this way than I would if Merrick held back." She gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. Trust me."

Clark sighed again. That was what she always said. And he seemed to have no choice but to agree.

"Now, I'm gonna go crash," Chloe said. Carefully, she got into the car. Then, leaning towards the open passenger window, she gave him a smile and a wave. "See you tomorrow."

As he watched the car disappear down the street, Clark's mind raced. The truth was, he'd liked Merrick…the three times he'd met the man in the past month. The guy seemed to have no interest in interacting with anyone in Smallville but Chloe. Which was probably some weird Immortal thing or something.

But the fact that Merrick was likeable didn't counteract seeing Chloe battered and bruised almost every day for the past four weeks.

Still, Chloe seemed okay with his rigorous training methods. And, until that changed, there really wasn't anything Clark could do.

Except take Lex up on his offer, a little voice in his head whispered.

But Chloe had asked him not to go digging for information about her mentor. And, after the way he reacted when he found out she was still looking into his adoption after he asked her not to, he couldn't turn around and do the same thing.

Could he?

Shaking his head helplessly, Clark went back into the Talon.

____________________

Easing into bed, Chloe let out a long sigh of contentment. The thought of lying still for eight hours straight was nothing short of bliss. Pure, heavenly bliss. Of course, finding a position that was comfortable for both of her arms proved was a challenge, but she managed.

Moaning softly, Chloe picked up the remote control. The TV came on right in the middle of a news report.

…month had passed since the murder of 19 year-old Debra Switz, and things had almost returned to normal on the campus of Metropolis University. But, with the discovery of a fourth victim, 20 year-old Amanda Beardsly, the nightmare seems to be far from over.

Authorities say this latest in a string of apparent serial killings…

Chloe didn't hear the rest. She couldn't. She was deafened by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

Slowly, she sat up in her bed. She watched with horrified eyes as the pictures flashed across her TV screen. Four pretty young women. All with blond hair and light eyes. All average height or smaller.

All dead.

As the name of the latest victim echoed through her mind, Chloe pressed one trembling hand over her mouth. "Oh my God."

(TO BE CONTINUED)