SAVE THE LAST DANCE

Chapter 4

"Hey, Pez?"

"Yeah?"

"I got that information you wanted."

"What'd you find out?"

"Not much. He keeps a pretty low profile, but I was able to find out that he's Kenneth Irons' head of security."

"Kenneth Irons? The Kenneth Irons?"

"Yeah. You want his address?"

********

Sara glanced down at the slip of paper she held. On it was the address Danny had given her. 1111 Faust Street. Tucking it back into the packet of her jacket, she looked up at the sprawling mansion before her. Taking a deep breath, she revved the engine and sped up to the front gate. At her approach, the gate swung inward silently. Cautiously, she crept up the long drive. Security cameras zoomed in on her, following her as she dismounted, set her helmet on the seat, and walked up to the front door. Gooseflesh rose all over her body as she observed the expansive grounds. There wasn't a sign of intelligent life anywhere. She lifted a hand to press the door chime button and froze as the door swung open to reveal tall, lanky man in a butler's uniform.

"Please, come in. Master Irons is expecting you."

Sara stepped inside, and was immediately whisked up three flights of stairs, down two corridors, and ushered into a large room. A fire crackled in the enormous hearth, warming the room.

"Hello, Sara."

Sara turned quickly to find the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde, almost white, hair and ice-blue eyes sat behind a large desk at the far end of the room. His hands were clasped in front of him, and he was watching her as if she were a bug to be squashed beneath his heel, far below him in every way.

This guy had a major superiority complex.

"Please, sit." He gestured to the comfortable-looking wing-backed chair across from him.

Sara shook her head. "No thanks, I'll stand."

"Sit."

She sat.

"Good. Now, what did you wish to speak to me about?"

Clearing her throat, Sara said, "I believe you have an Ian Nottingham in your employment—"

"Yes, he is my Chief of Security. Surely he hasn't made any trouble?"

"Not exactly. You see, he's been…following me lately."

"Following you? Ian? I'm quite sure you are mistaken."

"He was on my fire escape last night, and he scared my little girl."

"Did he? Well, I'll be sure to speak to him for you. Now, if you would, Detective?"

Sara stood to leave. "With pleasure."

As she stepped outside, Sara thought, No intelligent life in there, either.

********

Ian watched Sara pick up her daughter from the bus stop and drive home from his vantage point on the roof of a nearby apartment building. His blank expression gave no hint of the pain that came with each movement, each breath. He felt blood trickle down his back from one of the deep lacerations there. He could feel the deep bruises across his chest and abdomen, turning the front of his torso into something resembling a pillar of marble. Hand in hand, Sara and the small girl climbed to their apartment, disappearing inside. Ian moved so that he could see inside Sara's loft apartment. Not finding the view to his liking, Ian crouched, then sprang up, using his momentum to leap through the air, landing fluidly on a fire escape two floors below Sara's, twenty-five feet from his previous position. He climbed nimbly up the two railings, swinging his legs up and over his own body as he braced himself with his gloved hands. As he landed silently on the platform just outside Sara's window, the effects of the beating Irons had given him earlier made themselves known again. He felt more blood begin to flow from his wounds, soaking his layers of clothing.

And still he watched.

As he observed the Pezzinis, the young girl's bare right hand brushed the ancient bracelet on her mother's right wrist. The instant her skin came into contact with the sentient weapon, a barrage of images exploded in Ian's mind.

***8-year-old Michelle excitedly showing her mother the drawing she'd made for her at school.***

***5-year-old Michelle, dark hair in pigtails, bouncing off of the bus and running into her mother's arms, telling her ecstatically of her first day at school.***

***3-year-old Michelle being picked up from daycare by her mother. Danny Woo holding her, playing with her delightedly as Sara tries to do paperwork at the kitchen table.***

***1-year-old Michelle saying her first word—"Mama!"—sitting up, crawling, and standing alone for the first times. Taking her first solo step, Sara gathering her up into a warm, loving, congratulatory embrace.***

***An infant Michelle, squealing happily as her mother tickles her belly while changing her diaper.***

***Eighteen-year-old Sara straining, exhaustedly trying to push her reluctant child from her body. A baby's first cry. Sara holding her newborn daughter for the first time, tears of happiness streaming down her face as her daughter suckles noisily at her breast, accepting her first meal eagerly.***

***Sara asleep in bed, her arms cradling her round belly, smiling as she feels the baby kick.***

The last vision that touched his mind's eyes was different from all the others.

It replayed the night he and Sara had spent together, all those years ago.

When the Witchblade finally released him from its grasp, it hit him.

"Oh, my God."

He was watching his beloved Sara play with their daughter.

********

As she watched her daughter do her school work, Sara felt the Witchblade warm on her wrist. She felt it reaching for something close by…or someone. She whirled quickly and searched the shadows outside the window for the one she knew was there. There! She saw him, kneeling, trembling. The anger she'd felt momentarily evaporated, leaving only curiosity in its place. She moved to the window, watching him. He wasn't moving, just staring straight ahead, his eyes glazed over. The Witchblade was showing him a vision—that was the odd tug she'd felt from the bracelet. He blinked suddenly, coming back to his senses, and his eyes fell on her as he said something under his breath. Upon seeing his eyes focused on her, Sara's anger returned full force. She yanked open the window and grabbed him by the collar, jerking him inside. He immediately stood with his feet apart, his hands clasped behind his back, and his head bowed. Sara took his chin in her hand—she was careful to use her left one—and forced him to look her in the eye.

"What are you doing here?" she fumed.

"Watching over you, Lady Sara."

"Watching over me? More like stalking me!"

"I am your Protector, I must fulfill my destiny."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I Protect the Wielder. My predecessors and I have done so since the first Wielder emerged."

"Why have you come back after all these years? Huh? Can you give me one good reason why you would sleep with me, let me give myself to you fully, and then never come back again? How could you do that to me?!"

"It was not my choice, milady."

"Excuse me?!"

"I wished to remain with you, but I was forced to leave you."

"Really? And who forced you to stay away from me, huh?"

"My master."

"Your—your what?!"

"My master, Kenneth Irons."

"Well, I take it he didn't talk to you about the visit I paid to him yesterday?"

"He…spoke to me, yes." Ian's eyes dropped once more to the floor.

"Oh, really? What did he say?"

Ian turned slowly, pulling off his jacket, sweater, turtleneck, t-shirt, and tank top. As he pulled the last layer off, Sara gasped in horror. Old scars criss-crossed over his back, one on top of the other, and the newest wounds were still oozing blood.

"Wh—?" Sara was unable to speak.

"He was…unhappy that I let you see me. This was my punishment."

"Oh, God." Sara sank to her knees, one hand over her mouth as she tried to register this new knowledge. "How could he do that to you? How could—how could he hurt you like that?"

"I deserved it."

"No! NO!" Sara's anger towards Ian had dissipated, and she now stood, turning him to face her. Taking his face in her hands, she continued, "You deserve no such thing! He—he's a monster!" Ian looked away, ashamed of himself. "Was he the one who kept you from me? Did you truly want to stay with me? Or was it just a one night thing?"

"No! Lady Sara, I love you with all my heart! I would never intentionally hurt you, or let anyone else do so! Yes, it was he, and yes, I truly wanted to be with you…for a lifetime."

Sara was silent for a long moment, then slowly pressed her lips to his in a gentle, chaste kiss that took their breath away. She pulled away, love shining in her eyes as she then embraced him, careful not to disturb his torn flesh.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up."

********