CHAPTER 47
When Garrett finally let Beth go, she could hardly walk. He tried to help her upstairs, but she shrugged him off. "Don't touch me." She whispered, and he complied, wondering if this big plan to bring her closer to him had backfired.
"Trust me Garrett. By the time I am finished spinning the web, she'll be caught." Rick assured him. "She'll be too afraid of me and the power I have to not turn to you for protection."
Garrett wasn't completely confident, but he had little choice. Rick was not only his teacher, but a man who wouldn't think twice about turning on him if things went badly. "Maybe I should go see how she is."
"No." Rick demanded. "You stay here. We have much to discuss. Remember, you have some things to do for me in return for my help with this woman and the child you are determined to make your own."
For the next few hours the two holed up in the study and discussed the latest developments.
Upstairs, Beth's heart was breaking. She couldn't explain away the sword. There was little chance Adam would give it up without a fight and he wasn't likely to let it be taken. She'd never known him to be more than a few feet from it. Even at the wedding she'd felt it inside the long duster style tuxedo he'd chosen. The only way she could think of him being without it would be if he were indeed dead. For over two months she'd managed to survive by keeping the hope alive that he would come for them, but now . not only was he dead, but he died believing she'd betrayed him.
"I don't think I can bear this." She cried as she tried to raise herself up from the floor where she'd collapsed. "First Craig, and now Adam. I don't even have my daughter anymore, God how can you be so cruel?"
She fell back on her face and wailed her sorrow until her breathing became difficult and her mind began to haze over into semi-consciousness. "Just let me die." She choked, but her prayer went unanswered. All she could think of was how hurt he must have been and how she had failed him so miserably. "If I'd been more clever, I'd have found a better way to let you know the truth. But Adam I swear, I thought you'd find it . I thought you'd find the dress and then find us. I swear, I swear." She repeated over and over.
No wonder the connections she knew they'd made were filled with so much anger. It drove a stake through her heart to realize Adam felt such rage toward her. "If I'd known, I'd have tried harder to let you know the truth my love. I'd have ignored the pain and fear, and focused on the truth."
She was completely exhausted and her mind had all but shut down as she lay in the floor when a thought pierced through the darkness and caused her to sit upright with a quick, deep gasp. Looking down at her hand she couldn't see the bruising, but she knew what she'd felt all those times had been real. "If the connection was real, then why didn't I feel your death? Why don't I feel it now?"
Beth realized it had been more than a week since she'd last felt the connection, which is the length of time since Rick claimed to have taken Adam's Quickening. But the idea that she hadn't been aware in her heart that something was wrong didn't add up. "A life force as strong as yours would have punched a hole through this world when it made its exit. Why didn't I feel that?"
--------------------------------------
Methos was in no better mood when he landed at LaGuardia. All he wanted was to get to his hotel and lock himself away from any human contact. He grabbed his checked bags and headed for the taxi stand, ready to hail a cab, when he felt the presence of another immortal. Looking up he saw one of the transit buses pulling away from the curb, and a young black man staring out the back window.
"Trail that bus." He ordered the cabby.
For the next half hour the cab driver did as he was ordered, wondering out loud why Methos wasn't getting out as time after time the bus stopped along its route to drop off passengers.
"Just drive." Methos replied as the bus continued down the ever darkening streets.
He'd carefully slid his sword from the hidden compartment in his suitcase and into the folds of his coat without the driver noticing. When the young man he'd been following finally got off the bus, Methos handed the driver a hundred dollar bill. "Are you familiar with the Broadway hotel on West 38th?" he asked and the man nodded. "Take my bags there and ask them to hold them at the desk."
The man asked if he wasn't sure he'd like him to wait.
"No . but I expect my bags to be at the Broadway when I arrive. I have your cab number and have noted your ID." Methos told him as he got out of the cab.
The young man who had been on the bus had only walked a few blocks, and it didn't take long for him to realize he was being followed. He began to walk more quickly, but Methos matched him stride for stride. He ducked into a few alleys and took side streets, but still couldn't lose this persistent immortal.
The street was deserted when he stopped under a street light and turned to confront Methos.
"Why you shadowin' me man?" the young man asked.
"Is that what I was doing?" Methos asked, looking briefly around to be sure they were alone. "I thought my intentions were much more obvious than 'shadowing' " he emphasized the word.
"Peace-N man. I'm not looking to bang tonight. My old lady's waiting on me. It's been two weeks and I've got other things on my mind if ya know what I mean." The young man replied. His stance was broad and his demeanor steady, showing no fear but obviously impatient to be about his way.
"I'm afraid your lady is going to be disappointed." Methos replied dryly as he drew his sword.
"Awww man. Why you have to do this?" the man drew his own sword and began to circle a bit out of the light. "I'm going to wet you up good for slacking me like this."
Methos seemed unconcerned as his opponent drew him further into the darkness of the alley. The ground was damp beneath his feet, making the pavement slick. The two tossed away their coats and for a long moment regarded one another as they moved their weapons side to side and over their heads, preparing for just the right angle and time to advance. And then almost as if it were scripted, they both paused with swords poised. All was silent and still as they glared into the other's eyes.
It was the young man who broke the silence and jabbed his sword forward and then slashed back with an uncanny sense of balance. Methos dodged and jumped back to avoid being struck, and then prepared himself a little differently for the next attack. He studied the scars on the young man's arms that were visible beneath the torn off sleeves of his t-shirt. There was also a long gash across his throat, probably the wound that had caused his first death. This kid had been in battles before, battles that were not a part of the game. They were a part of his world there on the street and that made his moves as unpredictable as they were rough.
"You can walk away now. This doesn't have to happen" The young man said as he continued to circle, taking Methos' failure to attack and his close study of his moves to be a sign that maybe he regretted following.
"I plan to . walk away that is." Methos retorted as he lunged and aimed for the young man's thigh and then his back, missing the first but grazing him with the second, surprising his opponent. But it was Methos who bore the next surprise as the man ignored the pain and immediately spun and swept with a back-handed sword, catching the older immortal across the upper arm and glancing his chest.
"I told you I'd wet you up. You ain't got nothin' man." The young man scoffed as the red stain began to spread across the front of Methos' torn shirt. The wound wasn't deep, but it still stung.
The ancient one narrowed his eyes as the younger man switched his stance before attacking again. This time though, his sword was blocked on every count by the flat blade of Methos' sword. Over and over the metal clashed against metal, ringing and echoing throughout the alley. Methos let the young warrior lead with blow after blow, wearing him down by simply defending his position. And then when the time was right he slowly began to back the man up with the force of his blocks and the blocks became blows as the tide turned and the defender became the aggressor.
The wide, dark eyes of his opponent betrayed his sudden lack of confidence and Methos knew it wouldn't be long before the man would slip up and this would be over. Continuing to move forard, Methos forced the young man against the brick, leaving him nowhere to go and nothing to do but to defend his life with every ounce of strength.
His eyes were like ice and he could almost taste the blood that he knew would run from this immortal's body in a matter of seconds.
"Cold bastard." The young man gasped as he desperately drove forward, trying to push away from the corner he was trapped in. Methos blocked his sword by grabbing the man's forearm with his free hand and then drove the point of his blade deep into the cavern of his ribs.
The young man froze and then made a choking sound, which was met by the twisting of Methos blade as the older immortal made quick work of his kill. When the body began to fall forward against him, Methos shoved him over onto some crates that lined the alley. He fell against them, splintering a few.
The young man's head protruded over the edge of one of the crates, making it easy for Methos to strike his neck with a severing blow.
-----------------------------
It was early morning, and Beth had been in the same place on the floor where she'd first collapsed. Thankfully despite the sobs that racked her body and the tears that seemed endless, she'd fallen into a deep but fitful sleep. She probably would have remained that way for hours had the jolt of electricity not shocked it's way through her body and the feeling of her hand being held so tightly by another not startled her into immediate lucidity.
She stared at her hand and clasped her fingers as tightly as she could around the phantom that laced between. Shutting her eyes tightly, Beth held her breath as the sensation continued. "I love you Adam." She repeated over and over in her mind, meeting the feeling of anger with all the love in her heart and willing him to receive. For a brief instant she could swear she heard his voice call her name, ringing loudly in her ears.
A few seconds later it was over, but her body still tingled from the sensation.
Gathering her strength, Beth managed to stumble to the bed and then to the balcony door. Flinging it open, she let the cold, crisp air fill her lungs. "You're not dead." She whispered. "I don't know how much of what Rick said was true, but one thing I know . I felt you and you are not dead."
Beth clung fiercely to the hope she'd found, and refused to accept what Rick had told her. She could no more explain what she was feeling now than she could the dozen or so times it had happened before, but she didn't have to. She knew what was real, and her precious Adam was still alive.
She went back into her room, shutting the door and slipping beneath the covers to warm herself. A smile couldn't help but creep to her lips as she contemplated what this all meant. Her hope was not gone and they would be together somehow.
Her thoughts turned to the story Rick had told her and many questions began to form in her mind. "Why was it so important for you to make me think he was dead?" she began to ask herself once she'd had a chance to let the idea sink in. "And how did you get his sword?"
She might never know the answer to the second question, but was determined to learn the first.
When Garrett looked in on her in the mid-morning hours, he found her sleeping peacefully. The smudges of her tears were still on her face and her hair was wild and matted, but she was resting. He didn't question it, and left her to rest.
*NOTE - Peace-N is slang for not wanting any trouble - Wet you is slang for make you bleed - slacking me up is slang for wasting my time or holding me up.
When Garrett finally let Beth go, she could hardly walk. He tried to help her upstairs, but she shrugged him off. "Don't touch me." She whispered, and he complied, wondering if this big plan to bring her closer to him had backfired.
"Trust me Garrett. By the time I am finished spinning the web, she'll be caught." Rick assured him. "She'll be too afraid of me and the power I have to not turn to you for protection."
Garrett wasn't completely confident, but he had little choice. Rick was not only his teacher, but a man who wouldn't think twice about turning on him if things went badly. "Maybe I should go see how she is."
"No." Rick demanded. "You stay here. We have much to discuss. Remember, you have some things to do for me in return for my help with this woman and the child you are determined to make your own."
For the next few hours the two holed up in the study and discussed the latest developments.
Upstairs, Beth's heart was breaking. She couldn't explain away the sword. There was little chance Adam would give it up without a fight and he wasn't likely to let it be taken. She'd never known him to be more than a few feet from it. Even at the wedding she'd felt it inside the long duster style tuxedo he'd chosen. The only way she could think of him being without it would be if he were indeed dead. For over two months she'd managed to survive by keeping the hope alive that he would come for them, but now . not only was he dead, but he died believing she'd betrayed him.
"I don't think I can bear this." She cried as she tried to raise herself up from the floor where she'd collapsed. "First Craig, and now Adam. I don't even have my daughter anymore, God how can you be so cruel?"
She fell back on her face and wailed her sorrow until her breathing became difficult and her mind began to haze over into semi-consciousness. "Just let me die." She choked, but her prayer went unanswered. All she could think of was how hurt he must have been and how she had failed him so miserably. "If I'd been more clever, I'd have found a better way to let you know the truth. But Adam I swear, I thought you'd find it . I thought you'd find the dress and then find us. I swear, I swear." She repeated over and over.
No wonder the connections she knew they'd made were filled with so much anger. It drove a stake through her heart to realize Adam felt such rage toward her. "If I'd known, I'd have tried harder to let you know the truth my love. I'd have ignored the pain and fear, and focused on the truth."
She was completely exhausted and her mind had all but shut down as she lay in the floor when a thought pierced through the darkness and caused her to sit upright with a quick, deep gasp. Looking down at her hand she couldn't see the bruising, but she knew what she'd felt all those times had been real. "If the connection was real, then why didn't I feel your death? Why don't I feel it now?"
Beth realized it had been more than a week since she'd last felt the connection, which is the length of time since Rick claimed to have taken Adam's Quickening. But the idea that she hadn't been aware in her heart that something was wrong didn't add up. "A life force as strong as yours would have punched a hole through this world when it made its exit. Why didn't I feel that?"
--------------------------------------
Methos was in no better mood when he landed at LaGuardia. All he wanted was to get to his hotel and lock himself away from any human contact. He grabbed his checked bags and headed for the taxi stand, ready to hail a cab, when he felt the presence of another immortal. Looking up he saw one of the transit buses pulling away from the curb, and a young black man staring out the back window.
"Trail that bus." He ordered the cabby.
For the next half hour the cab driver did as he was ordered, wondering out loud why Methos wasn't getting out as time after time the bus stopped along its route to drop off passengers.
"Just drive." Methos replied as the bus continued down the ever darkening streets.
He'd carefully slid his sword from the hidden compartment in his suitcase and into the folds of his coat without the driver noticing. When the young man he'd been following finally got off the bus, Methos handed the driver a hundred dollar bill. "Are you familiar with the Broadway hotel on West 38th?" he asked and the man nodded. "Take my bags there and ask them to hold them at the desk."
The man asked if he wasn't sure he'd like him to wait.
"No . but I expect my bags to be at the Broadway when I arrive. I have your cab number and have noted your ID." Methos told him as he got out of the cab.
The young man who had been on the bus had only walked a few blocks, and it didn't take long for him to realize he was being followed. He began to walk more quickly, but Methos matched him stride for stride. He ducked into a few alleys and took side streets, but still couldn't lose this persistent immortal.
The street was deserted when he stopped under a street light and turned to confront Methos.
"Why you shadowin' me man?" the young man asked.
"Is that what I was doing?" Methos asked, looking briefly around to be sure they were alone. "I thought my intentions were much more obvious than 'shadowing' " he emphasized the word.
"Peace-N man. I'm not looking to bang tonight. My old lady's waiting on me. It's been two weeks and I've got other things on my mind if ya know what I mean." The young man replied. His stance was broad and his demeanor steady, showing no fear but obviously impatient to be about his way.
"I'm afraid your lady is going to be disappointed." Methos replied dryly as he drew his sword.
"Awww man. Why you have to do this?" the man drew his own sword and began to circle a bit out of the light. "I'm going to wet you up good for slacking me like this."
Methos seemed unconcerned as his opponent drew him further into the darkness of the alley. The ground was damp beneath his feet, making the pavement slick. The two tossed away their coats and for a long moment regarded one another as they moved their weapons side to side and over their heads, preparing for just the right angle and time to advance. And then almost as if it were scripted, they both paused with swords poised. All was silent and still as they glared into the other's eyes.
It was the young man who broke the silence and jabbed his sword forward and then slashed back with an uncanny sense of balance. Methos dodged and jumped back to avoid being struck, and then prepared himself a little differently for the next attack. He studied the scars on the young man's arms that were visible beneath the torn off sleeves of his t-shirt. There was also a long gash across his throat, probably the wound that had caused his first death. This kid had been in battles before, battles that were not a part of the game. They were a part of his world there on the street and that made his moves as unpredictable as they were rough.
"You can walk away now. This doesn't have to happen" The young man said as he continued to circle, taking Methos' failure to attack and his close study of his moves to be a sign that maybe he regretted following.
"I plan to . walk away that is." Methos retorted as he lunged and aimed for the young man's thigh and then his back, missing the first but grazing him with the second, surprising his opponent. But it was Methos who bore the next surprise as the man ignored the pain and immediately spun and swept with a back-handed sword, catching the older immortal across the upper arm and glancing his chest.
"I told you I'd wet you up. You ain't got nothin' man." The young man scoffed as the red stain began to spread across the front of Methos' torn shirt. The wound wasn't deep, but it still stung.
The ancient one narrowed his eyes as the younger man switched his stance before attacking again. This time though, his sword was blocked on every count by the flat blade of Methos' sword. Over and over the metal clashed against metal, ringing and echoing throughout the alley. Methos let the young warrior lead with blow after blow, wearing him down by simply defending his position. And then when the time was right he slowly began to back the man up with the force of his blocks and the blocks became blows as the tide turned and the defender became the aggressor.
The wide, dark eyes of his opponent betrayed his sudden lack of confidence and Methos knew it wouldn't be long before the man would slip up and this would be over. Continuing to move forard, Methos forced the young man against the brick, leaving him nowhere to go and nothing to do but to defend his life with every ounce of strength.
His eyes were like ice and he could almost taste the blood that he knew would run from this immortal's body in a matter of seconds.
"Cold bastard." The young man gasped as he desperately drove forward, trying to push away from the corner he was trapped in. Methos blocked his sword by grabbing the man's forearm with his free hand and then drove the point of his blade deep into the cavern of his ribs.
The young man froze and then made a choking sound, which was met by the twisting of Methos blade as the older immortal made quick work of his kill. When the body began to fall forward against him, Methos shoved him over onto some crates that lined the alley. He fell against them, splintering a few.
The young man's head protruded over the edge of one of the crates, making it easy for Methos to strike his neck with a severing blow.
-----------------------------
It was early morning, and Beth had been in the same place on the floor where she'd first collapsed. Thankfully despite the sobs that racked her body and the tears that seemed endless, she'd fallen into a deep but fitful sleep. She probably would have remained that way for hours had the jolt of electricity not shocked it's way through her body and the feeling of her hand being held so tightly by another not startled her into immediate lucidity.
She stared at her hand and clasped her fingers as tightly as she could around the phantom that laced between. Shutting her eyes tightly, Beth held her breath as the sensation continued. "I love you Adam." She repeated over and over in her mind, meeting the feeling of anger with all the love in her heart and willing him to receive. For a brief instant she could swear she heard his voice call her name, ringing loudly in her ears.
A few seconds later it was over, but her body still tingled from the sensation.
Gathering her strength, Beth managed to stumble to the bed and then to the balcony door. Flinging it open, she let the cold, crisp air fill her lungs. "You're not dead." She whispered. "I don't know how much of what Rick said was true, but one thing I know . I felt you and you are not dead."
Beth clung fiercely to the hope she'd found, and refused to accept what Rick had told her. She could no more explain what she was feeling now than she could the dozen or so times it had happened before, but she didn't have to. She knew what was real, and her precious Adam was still alive.
She went back into her room, shutting the door and slipping beneath the covers to warm herself. A smile couldn't help but creep to her lips as she contemplated what this all meant. Her hope was not gone and they would be together somehow.
Her thoughts turned to the story Rick had told her and many questions began to form in her mind. "Why was it so important for you to make me think he was dead?" she began to ask herself once she'd had a chance to let the idea sink in. "And how did you get his sword?"
She might never know the answer to the second question, but was determined to learn the first.
When Garrett looked in on her in the mid-morning hours, he found her sleeping peacefully. The smudges of her tears were still on her face and her hair was wild and matted, but she was resting. He didn't question it, and left her to rest.
*NOTE - Peace-N is slang for not wanting any trouble - Wet you is slang for make you bleed - slacking me up is slang for wasting my time or holding me up.