A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'll try to keep updating pretty frequently, however I'm going to summer camp next weekend and I'll be there for a week, so don't expect any new chapter during that time. I'll try to get another chapter up in the next few days before I leave. Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: Sorry, I forgot to add this before. Tomb Raider is not mine, and any characters you recognize from the games are not mine. They belong to Eidos and a bunch of rich guys I don't know the names of.
Chapter Two
__________________________________________________________________________
Born Again
Streets
Paris, London, August 7th, 2003
The falter in his step seemed casual at first, a mere misstep that halted his previously unhindered stride. She didn't cease her movements, pulling slightly ahead of him now, eyeing with silent gratefulness the large building visible just up ahead. Its exterior lay pockmarked and glistening beneath the tempest raging overhead, ravaged by years of harsh weather and cruel hands. This part of town was not a particularly pleasant one, not unfamiliar to the one she'd passed through a couple of months earlier in search of the elusive Bouchard, where she'd made the acquaintance of Janice and the loud-mouthed Pierre.
Her gaze slipped to the man at her side. And also, where she'd first spotted Kurtis Trent. First in the Cafe` Metro, bent over a paper-laden corner table accompanied only by a rather empty bottle of wine, later on the very same motorcycle which had transported them this far.
She felt his body against hers now, and plunged out both arms to cradle him, the move an instinctive one. Muscles corded beneath this sudden added weight as he pitched forward, carrying them both to chill pavement as Lara's knees buckled and gave.
"Kurtis?"
His name parted her full lips, this motion viewed through a rapidly blurring vision.
"Kurtis? What the hell's going on?"
He felt perspiration rise to thickly glaze the slope of his forehead. Heat surged throughout him, building and churning within his panting body, the thrumming of his heartbeat thrusting harder against the confines of his ribs.
Blood frothed against his quivering mouth, traversing a strong chin to patter against the white T-shirt he wore.
"Things are not always as they seem." he whispered.
She stroked damp bangs from his brow, eyebrows knitting above turbulent eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"
His lips curved briefly, and his hard body flickered beneath her wandering fingertips. One hand slipped to the gun at her hip, caressing chill metal as bright azure orbs swirled to ebony madness.
The gun freed its holster, and she swept its barrel to target his face as it morphed, stretching and elongating, this strangeness stumbling her backward in shock. "Kurtis-"
Joachim Karel stared emptily up at her. "You see, Lara? So many things are only an illusion. Your friend is a figment of imagination, a creation of mine. Maybe a man you could have eventually loved. But not real." He thrust upright.
She gripped her weapon more tightly, its sights never straying from his severe features, the pale flesh marred by intertwining black slashes, their savage lines marking him as one of the ancient Nephili.
"An illusion, Lara Croft."
"Only an illusion."
"Kurtis Trent has never existed."
"Only a figment of your imagination."
These phrases swirled around her, through her, penetrating her very soul , reverberating endlessly within her mind. She paced backward another step, eyes wide within an ashen and stunned face.
"Not real."
"Kurtis does not exist."
"Lara-"
She thrust from the realm of sleep with a gasp, and found only darkness awaiting her.
"Bad dream?"
The voice prompted a hand to her holster, the foggy remnants of slumber not allowing her to immediately recognize the speaker. Her fingers grazed only the coarse, damp material of her jeans. *No weapons. Oh shit.* This revelation bolted her upright, disturbing the covers encasing her slender body. They slipped to pool soundlessly against the floor.
"I took it off." the voice said by way of explanation.
She blinked, the deep masculine tone finally registering. "Kurtis?"
A spark of light flared to life, illuminating glistening blue eyes in its momentary glory. In the brief moment before its extermination, Lara caught sight of a slender object clamped between amusement-curved lips.
She crossed both arms over her chest.
He clicked his lighter shut, and set it on the table beside him.
"Those'll kill you, you know."
"Thanks for that gem of information."
"I thought you might enjoy it."
"Yeah. Thoughts of death always cheer me up. I'm touched you realized that, Lara."
She squinted through layers of darkness at him, the luster of the moon bathing dark hair in effulgent silver. He perched in a chair directly across from the bed, knees parted in the typical male fashion of sitting. The cigarette he gripped loosely between two fingers glowed against the stubble of his cheeks, highlighting dark hair.
*He has no right to be so damn attractive.* she thought, and immediately experienced a flash of irritation. Even at the Louvre, during her first face-to-face meeting with this man, she'd felt an irresistible spark of...something. After he'd succeeded in stealing all her weapons, (in a rather suggestive frisking,) and snatched for himself the painting which Lara had gone to great lengths to procure, those goddamn blue eyes still hadn't failed to draw her in. *Like a moth to a flame.* And there had existed a brief moment of tangible electricity when both had leaned in close, their faces very near to one another, where a slight turn of the head might have resulted in an accidental kiss.
The chill press of steel against the flesh of her throat had instantly dissipated all thoughts of mouth to mouth contact, replaced by the urge to strangle the irritating, gun-toting little thief.
"Why did you take my gun?"
"Thought it might be more comfortable."
"How thoughtful. It's so nice to know that I'm in the company of a gentleman."
He inhaled deeply, and expelled the smoke in his lungs.
She coughed and waved aside the curling wisps reaching to embrace her. "Take it outside, would you?"
"Don't like smokers?"
"No, just their breath."
He smiled. "Then you're not planning on kissing one anytime soon?" A slight question rang within the gravelly tones of his voice.
She felt heat rise within her cheeks, color blossoming in satin flesh at the implication. "No." she returned coldly, relieved to hear her voice emerge normally. Her hand reached to flick on the lamp perched atop the night stand to her right. The abrupt flood of illumination revealed him in the process of stubbing out the butt of his cigarette.
She stirred against the bed's surface, slightly uncomfortable under his intense perusal.
"You killed Eckhardt." he said finally, quietly.
Lara sensed a solemnity which had not been present before in his tone. "I'm sorry about your father. And no, I didn't kill Eckhardt. But he's dead, you can be sure of that."
Kurtis blinked, shock apparent within that beautiful cerulean gaze. "Then how...?"
" A man named Joachim Karel showed up just in time to steal the show. He was the one who stabbed Eckhardt with the final Shard."
"Karel. One of the Cabal members."
"Yes. He manipulated Ekhardt and the others for his own purposes; mainly, the resurrection of the Sleeper. Apparently, the nutcase planned to start a new order; a Nephilim army which would take over the world. He must have become a close advisor to Eckhardt, and waited until the opportune moment, when Eckhardt was prepared to awaken the Sleeper. When I showed up and threw a kink into Eckhardt's plans, it gave Karel the perfect opportunity to step in and take over." She swung both legs over the bed's edge, and rose. "Karel is Nephilim. With the ability to take on the shapes of those around him."
*Flashback*
He appeared before her, devilish smirk in place, those rakish bangs shading but never cloaking that keen azure gaze. Beneath the dark shirt and khakis, she sensed the hardness of his body, a firmness built from years of adventuring, the pistol dangling from a holster at his side testament to his often perilous outings. His hand extended to her, welcoming, offering friendship, perhaps even love.
*End Flashback*
Her gaze surged to his own. "Even yours."
Kurtis looked at her. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said coldly.
"Karel changed himself to look like you, right before I destroyed Eckhardt's glove and the Sleeper. Some sort of cheap ploy to get me to trust him, I suppose. He had me going, but only for a moment. When he claimed to be helping me all along, then took on *your* angelic face," She paused for a moment to teasingly brush slender fingertips over the curve of his cheekbone. "I knew he was lying. You certainly seemed to have no interest in helping me, especially when you stole my painting, then locked me up."
Kurtis smiled. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"I'm sure you are." Lara replied with a smirk. "It was probably only an accident, anyway."
"Just like you kicking my gun out of my hand and pointing your own at my head was an accident, too."
"A reflex. I tend to get these spasms in my legs when I'm around people who have pissed me off. The doctor told me not to hold back on that instinct. Could end up doing more harm then good, you know."
He smirked. "I know." Kurtis stood, shaking out limbs stiff from lack of use, the curve of his well-toned arms visible beneath the cotton of his T-shirt. His eyes peered out at her from beneath renegade bangs.
His body seemed too near her own, his masculine scent disturbingly tempting. Full lips parted slightly, strands of hair loosened from her braid fluttering within the breath expelled from them. For a moment, Kurtis appeared to be leaning in, almost as though to embrace her, thick lashes cloaking unwavering azure orbs.
Lara blinked, and paced backward a step. *Dammit, you annoying jerk!* "Where's my gun?"
"Why? Not going to shoot me, are you?" She sensed a hint of laughter in that sexy voice of his.
"Perhaps." *I will if I get the urge to kiss you again. That's twice now, Kurtis Trent. I'm not getting sidetracked by you a third time.*
He jerked his chin to the table on which rested the ashtray containing the smoking remnants of his cigarette. Beside it lay her pistol, safely holstered as it had been before.
She shook a finger at him as she retrieved it. "Touching my guns without permission is a big no-no."
"I'll have to remember that."
"What are you packing?" she asked, to fill the ensuing silence.
He thrust his weapon free of its holster and hefted it in one strong hand. "It's a Boran X. A pistol prototype I designed. I had a friend build it using the specifications I gave him."
She traced a fingertip almost lovingly over its barrel, grazing the flesh of his palm as her finger traversed chill metal. He shivered involuntarily and immediately pulled away, annoyance roiling to life within him.
The Boran X returned once more to its resting place.
"Are you a friend, Kurtis?" Lara asked quietly. "Or am I going to end up shooting you?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On if our goals are the same or not."
"And what is your goal?"
"To track down Karel, and stop him from rebreeding the Nephilim race into existence." He paused a moment, and looked off into the distance. She resisted the sudden urge to reach out and touch him. "It was my father's job to stop the Nephilim race from being reborn. Now that he's dead, I'm the last living initiate of the Lux Veritatis."
Lara eyed him suspiciously. "Karel's dead. He was destroyed with the Sleeper, two months ago."
"No." He withdrew something from his back pocket, a stained and rumpled sheet of paper which he thrust toward her.
Her brows knit in confusion, forehead rippling into lines of puzzlement. "This is from a newspaper. About an archaeological discovery in Cambodia. What does this have to do with Karel? Weren't the Nephilim based in Turkey?"
"Yes. Turkey is where the Sleeper was transported from. Their stronghold must be buried somewhere beneath there." He tapped the paper she clutched. "Man on the right."
Her gaze dropped automatically to the sheaf of newsprint. Something flickered within her face, an unnamed emotion passing through beautiful features, full lips parting in shock. "Karel. That's him. What interest would he have in Cambodia?"
"I don't know. That's what I came to Paris to find out. And because I thought Daniel Grosser might be able to help me find you."
Lara's head snapped sharply up. Mahogany orbs narrowed to slits as she studied him. "*You* were the man who was staying with Daniel. Tell me, Kurtis: do you always enter his place through the window?"
"I overheard him on the phone earlier that day, making plans to capture you. I waited outside, watched you go in, then climbed a drainpipe on the side of the building. Good deal for me; I found you, and didn't even have to pay the fat bastard any money."
"Why were you looking for me? Just to get that back?" She indicated his Glaive with a slender finger.
"No." His eyes flicked back to hers. "Karel has to be stopped, and I can't do it by myself. I need your help."
She thrust up a hand to halt his next words. "Even if Karel did come out of that little episode unharmed, the Sleeper was destroyed. Karel can't recreate the race without it."
"Don't be so sure about that."
"You know something I don't?"
"Something was eating the inmates in the Sanitarium."
"You mean the place where I should have gone, except that someone locked me up?" Lara inquired sweetly, a sarcastic set to her lips.
Kurtis smirked, and crossed his arms. "When you shut the power off it set something loose inside the Sanitarium. I saw it drag a guard off; took him up into one of the air vents. There was a man down there, a Sanitarium inmate, a truck driver who'd driven the Sleeper over from Turkey. They locked him up so he couldn't leak any information. He said something was eating the guards, and now it was feeding off of them. The 'Screamer' he called it. A Black Angel. The Nephilim is a hybrid cross between humans and fallen ange-"
"Angels, yes I know. It was the Proto. A Proto Nephilim, eating the guards and inmates."
Kurtis lifted both eyebrows. "Yes."
"I saw Eckhardt feed Boaz into something she called 'The Pod.' It must have turned her into that creature you fought later. He was punishing her for failing to destroy the Proto Nephilim." She absently tightened one leather glove as she spoke. "Eckhardt somehow created another Nephilim, without the Sleeper."
"Not just one."
Lara quirked an eyebrow.
"In one of the labs in the Sanitarium, there was something that looked just like the Proto Nephilim, trapped in a glass case, chained in place. But it wasn't alive. Or animated, at least."
"A failed attempt to create a Nephilim? Maybe that one was their first try, and the Proto Nephilim was their success."
"Maybe. Or maybe it just needed something to...wake it up."
"Charming thought." She returned the slip of paper to him. "So what's our next move? How do we destroy Karel, if the destruction of the Sleeper didn't do the trick?" She withdrew her .45, careful to keep its barrel aimed at the floor. "I doubt this is going to do any good against him, no matter how fond of it I am."
"The Nephilim are practically immortal. They can't be killed with regular weapons."
"Practically? Well, that lends a bit of comfort, at least." Her gun slipped quietly back into its holster. "If Karel can't be killed through mortal means, how do we off the man?"
"The same way Eckhardt was killed."
"The Shards?" Lara pursed her lips. "Kurtis, I hate to break it to you, but those Shards were in Eckhardt's body when the place blew. Karel might have escaped somehow, but I'm willing to venture a bet that Eckhardt did not get up and walk out of there with the Periapt Shards safely intact."
"I'm not going to argue with that." he agreed. "But there's a final Shard. One that only my father knew about. He passed on that knowledge to me before Eckhardt murdered him." Cerulean orbs flamed to ice at mention of this, taut muscles tensing further. Warily, Lara placed a slender hand on his shoulder, her fingertips caressing the gauze of the bandage he'd used to staunch the flow of his blood. He seemed to calm slightly beneath her touch, the tightness of his body slowly, lethargically uncoiling. "No one else in the world knows of its existence."
"Is that a hint to keep my mouth shut about it?" she replied, keeping her tone light.
"Might be a good idea."
"So where is this 4th Shard? And how do we get it?"
"I don't know." He thrust a hand up in the air, to halt her next words. "But that's part of why I came back. The Strahov Archives in Prague contain a ton of information on the Lux Veritatis. If we can get in, we might be able to find something on the location of the 4th Shard. If not..." He shrugged both strong shoulders.
"If not, we're screwed." Lara finished dryly. "And what do you mean 'if' we can get in? This place isn't open to the public?"
"No. It's home to many important documents that the government would rather not have Joe Average using for bathroom reading. The keeper of the Archives is a man named Luther Rouzic; a good friend to my father."
"Which means you can get us in." She tapped him lightly on the arm, her fingers lingering longer than was appropriate. "I knew you'd come in handy, eventually."
"Did I forget to mention I'm not on very good terms with Luther Rouzic?" he asked innocently, cocking an eyebrow.
Lara scowled. "Kurtis, I'm losing patience. And when I lose patience, things get ugly. Would you please care to explain to me how we're getting in to the Strahov Archives when you've pissed off the man who overlooks them and they're not allowing people to just walk in off the street?"
He smiled, the flickering intensity in his eyes instantly dissipating all traces of rage. She felt the light pressure of his fingers against her own, and glanced down to find his larger palm curved over her small hand where it still lay on his arm. Slowly, he curled his fingers through hers, lacing their hands together for a single moment. Her breath slipped raggedly through slightly parted lips, the rapid thundering of her heartbeat drumming more insistently than she would have liked.
Angry with herself, she plunged her hand from his, the violent motion stumbling her backward.
Kurtis reached out to steady her, lips twisting in the sexy expression now strangely familiar to her. *Dammit!* "I'm waiting!" Lara snapped, tucking both leather-sheathed hands safely out of his reach against her ribs.
"Hey, take it easy. I was just taking your hand off my arm. You seemed to have forgotten it was still there."
"I'm not interested in any explanations, Kurtis." *Just don't do it again.* "Just tell me how we're getting into the Archives."
"It's almost dawn. How about we take a little road trip? The Archives don't open for appointments until noon. We should be able to make it there before then."
"To do what? Make faces at them through the windows while one of us slips inside unnoticed?" she demanded sarcastically.
"If you want to use a distraction, you could always flash them those-"
"Don't follow that thought through if you'd like to keep your head intact and not have it splattered all over the pretty carpeting." she replied sharply.
"We're going to do a little breaking and entering. We'll stay the day in Prague, wait until night, when no one will notice us."
"Why not? I've already broken into a famous museum. Might as well add an exclusive library to my list."
"We'll need some equipment. I know someone who might be able to help us out with that."
"What? You don't carry around a Robbery-Made-Easy kit in your pocket?"
"Sorry. I'll be sure to be better prepared next time."
They stared at one another moment, until Lara broke eye contact, and turned her back on him. "Fine. Let's get this little show on the road. I prefer not to waste time. But-" She stopped mid-sentence, and pivoted on a heel to face him once more. "It's my turn to drive." Her hand slipped deftly into his front pocket, fumbling slightly before unearthing the keys to his motorcycle.
His eyes widened slightly at the bold move.
"Well. At least now you won't be able to blame any...excitement on the keys in your pocket."
A/N 2: Sorry there's not much action in this one. There'll be plenty in upcoming chapters, trust me.
Disclaimer: Sorry, I forgot to add this before. Tomb Raider is not mine, and any characters you recognize from the games are not mine. They belong to Eidos and a bunch of rich guys I don't know the names of.
Chapter Two
__________________________________________________________________________
Born Again
Streets
Paris, London, August 7th, 2003
The falter in his step seemed casual at first, a mere misstep that halted his previously unhindered stride. She didn't cease her movements, pulling slightly ahead of him now, eyeing with silent gratefulness the large building visible just up ahead. Its exterior lay pockmarked and glistening beneath the tempest raging overhead, ravaged by years of harsh weather and cruel hands. This part of town was not a particularly pleasant one, not unfamiliar to the one she'd passed through a couple of months earlier in search of the elusive Bouchard, where she'd made the acquaintance of Janice and the loud-mouthed Pierre.
Her gaze slipped to the man at her side. And also, where she'd first spotted Kurtis Trent. First in the Cafe` Metro, bent over a paper-laden corner table accompanied only by a rather empty bottle of wine, later on the very same motorcycle which had transported them this far.
She felt his body against hers now, and plunged out both arms to cradle him, the move an instinctive one. Muscles corded beneath this sudden added weight as he pitched forward, carrying them both to chill pavement as Lara's knees buckled and gave.
"Kurtis?"
His name parted her full lips, this motion viewed through a rapidly blurring vision.
"Kurtis? What the hell's going on?"
He felt perspiration rise to thickly glaze the slope of his forehead. Heat surged throughout him, building and churning within his panting body, the thrumming of his heartbeat thrusting harder against the confines of his ribs.
Blood frothed against his quivering mouth, traversing a strong chin to patter against the white T-shirt he wore.
"Things are not always as they seem." he whispered.
She stroked damp bangs from his brow, eyebrows knitting above turbulent eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"
His lips curved briefly, and his hard body flickered beneath her wandering fingertips. One hand slipped to the gun at her hip, caressing chill metal as bright azure orbs swirled to ebony madness.
The gun freed its holster, and she swept its barrel to target his face as it morphed, stretching and elongating, this strangeness stumbling her backward in shock. "Kurtis-"
Joachim Karel stared emptily up at her. "You see, Lara? So many things are only an illusion. Your friend is a figment of imagination, a creation of mine. Maybe a man you could have eventually loved. But not real." He thrust upright.
She gripped her weapon more tightly, its sights never straying from his severe features, the pale flesh marred by intertwining black slashes, their savage lines marking him as one of the ancient Nephili.
"An illusion, Lara Croft."
"Only an illusion."
"Kurtis Trent has never existed."
"Only a figment of your imagination."
These phrases swirled around her, through her, penetrating her very soul , reverberating endlessly within her mind. She paced backward another step, eyes wide within an ashen and stunned face.
"Not real."
"Kurtis does not exist."
"Lara-"
She thrust from the realm of sleep with a gasp, and found only darkness awaiting her.
"Bad dream?"
The voice prompted a hand to her holster, the foggy remnants of slumber not allowing her to immediately recognize the speaker. Her fingers grazed only the coarse, damp material of her jeans. *No weapons. Oh shit.* This revelation bolted her upright, disturbing the covers encasing her slender body. They slipped to pool soundlessly against the floor.
"I took it off." the voice said by way of explanation.
She blinked, the deep masculine tone finally registering. "Kurtis?"
A spark of light flared to life, illuminating glistening blue eyes in its momentary glory. In the brief moment before its extermination, Lara caught sight of a slender object clamped between amusement-curved lips.
She crossed both arms over her chest.
He clicked his lighter shut, and set it on the table beside him.
"Those'll kill you, you know."
"Thanks for that gem of information."
"I thought you might enjoy it."
"Yeah. Thoughts of death always cheer me up. I'm touched you realized that, Lara."
She squinted through layers of darkness at him, the luster of the moon bathing dark hair in effulgent silver. He perched in a chair directly across from the bed, knees parted in the typical male fashion of sitting. The cigarette he gripped loosely between two fingers glowed against the stubble of his cheeks, highlighting dark hair.
*He has no right to be so damn attractive.* she thought, and immediately experienced a flash of irritation. Even at the Louvre, during her first face-to-face meeting with this man, she'd felt an irresistible spark of...something. After he'd succeeded in stealing all her weapons, (in a rather suggestive frisking,) and snatched for himself the painting which Lara had gone to great lengths to procure, those goddamn blue eyes still hadn't failed to draw her in. *Like a moth to a flame.* And there had existed a brief moment of tangible electricity when both had leaned in close, their faces very near to one another, where a slight turn of the head might have resulted in an accidental kiss.
The chill press of steel against the flesh of her throat had instantly dissipated all thoughts of mouth to mouth contact, replaced by the urge to strangle the irritating, gun-toting little thief.
"Why did you take my gun?"
"Thought it might be more comfortable."
"How thoughtful. It's so nice to know that I'm in the company of a gentleman."
He inhaled deeply, and expelled the smoke in his lungs.
She coughed and waved aside the curling wisps reaching to embrace her. "Take it outside, would you?"
"Don't like smokers?"
"No, just their breath."
He smiled. "Then you're not planning on kissing one anytime soon?" A slight question rang within the gravelly tones of his voice.
She felt heat rise within her cheeks, color blossoming in satin flesh at the implication. "No." she returned coldly, relieved to hear her voice emerge normally. Her hand reached to flick on the lamp perched atop the night stand to her right. The abrupt flood of illumination revealed him in the process of stubbing out the butt of his cigarette.
She stirred against the bed's surface, slightly uncomfortable under his intense perusal.
"You killed Eckhardt." he said finally, quietly.
Lara sensed a solemnity which had not been present before in his tone. "I'm sorry about your father. And no, I didn't kill Eckhardt. But he's dead, you can be sure of that."
Kurtis blinked, shock apparent within that beautiful cerulean gaze. "Then how...?"
" A man named Joachim Karel showed up just in time to steal the show. He was the one who stabbed Eckhardt with the final Shard."
"Karel. One of the Cabal members."
"Yes. He manipulated Ekhardt and the others for his own purposes; mainly, the resurrection of the Sleeper. Apparently, the nutcase planned to start a new order; a Nephilim army which would take over the world. He must have become a close advisor to Eckhardt, and waited until the opportune moment, when Eckhardt was prepared to awaken the Sleeper. When I showed up and threw a kink into Eckhardt's plans, it gave Karel the perfect opportunity to step in and take over." She swung both legs over the bed's edge, and rose. "Karel is Nephilim. With the ability to take on the shapes of those around him."
*Flashback*
He appeared before her, devilish smirk in place, those rakish bangs shading but never cloaking that keen azure gaze. Beneath the dark shirt and khakis, she sensed the hardness of his body, a firmness built from years of adventuring, the pistol dangling from a holster at his side testament to his often perilous outings. His hand extended to her, welcoming, offering friendship, perhaps even love.
*End Flashback*
Her gaze surged to his own. "Even yours."
Kurtis looked at her. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said coldly.
"Karel changed himself to look like you, right before I destroyed Eckhardt's glove and the Sleeper. Some sort of cheap ploy to get me to trust him, I suppose. He had me going, but only for a moment. When he claimed to be helping me all along, then took on *your* angelic face," She paused for a moment to teasingly brush slender fingertips over the curve of his cheekbone. "I knew he was lying. You certainly seemed to have no interest in helping me, especially when you stole my painting, then locked me up."
Kurtis smiled. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"I'm sure you are." Lara replied with a smirk. "It was probably only an accident, anyway."
"Just like you kicking my gun out of my hand and pointing your own at my head was an accident, too."
"A reflex. I tend to get these spasms in my legs when I'm around people who have pissed me off. The doctor told me not to hold back on that instinct. Could end up doing more harm then good, you know."
He smirked. "I know." Kurtis stood, shaking out limbs stiff from lack of use, the curve of his well-toned arms visible beneath the cotton of his T-shirt. His eyes peered out at her from beneath renegade bangs.
His body seemed too near her own, his masculine scent disturbingly tempting. Full lips parted slightly, strands of hair loosened from her braid fluttering within the breath expelled from them. For a moment, Kurtis appeared to be leaning in, almost as though to embrace her, thick lashes cloaking unwavering azure orbs.
Lara blinked, and paced backward a step. *Dammit, you annoying jerk!* "Where's my gun?"
"Why? Not going to shoot me, are you?" She sensed a hint of laughter in that sexy voice of his.
"Perhaps." *I will if I get the urge to kiss you again. That's twice now, Kurtis Trent. I'm not getting sidetracked by you a third time.*
He jerked his chin to the table on which rested the ashtray containing the smoking remnants of his cigarette. Beside it lay her pistol, safely holstered as it had been before.
She shook a finger at him as she retrieved it. "Touching my guns without permission is a big no-no."
"I'll have to remember that."
"What are you packing?" she asked, to fill the ensuing silence.
He thrust his weapon free of its holster and hefted it in one strong hand. "It's a Boran X. A pistol prototype I designed. I had a friend build it using the specifications I gave him."
She traced a fingertip almost lovingly over its barrel, grazing the flesh of his palm as her finger traversed chill metal. He shivered involuntarily and immediately pulled away, annoyance roiling to life within him.
The Boran X returned once more to its resting place.
"Are you a friend, Kurtis?" Lara asked quietly. "Or am I going to end up shooting you?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On if our goals are the same or not."
"And what is your goal?"
"To track down Karel, and stop him from rebreeding the Nephilim race into existence." He paused a moment, and looked off into the distance. She resisted the sudden urge to reach out and touch him. "It was my father's job to stop the Nephilim race from being reborn. Now that he's dead, I'm the last living initiate of the Lux Veritatis."
Lara eyed him suspiciously. "Karel's dead. He was destroyed with the Sleeper, two months ago."
"No." He withdrew something from his back pocket, a stained and rumpled sheet of paper which he thrust toward her.
Her brows knit in confusion, forehead rippling into lines of puzzlement. "This is from a newspaper. About an archaeological discovery in Cambodia. What does this have to do with Karel? Weren't the Nephilim based in Turkey?"
"Yes. Turkey is where the Sleeper was transported from. Their stronghold must be buried somewhere beneath there." He tapped the paper she clutched. "Man on the right."
Her gaze dropped automatically to the sheaf of newsprint. Something flickered within her face, an unnamed emotion passing through beautiful features, full lips parting in shock. "Karel. That's him. What interest would he have in Cambodia?"
"I don't know. That's what I came to Paris to find out. And because I thought Daniel Grosser might be able to help me find you."
Lara's head snapped sharply up. Mahogany orbs narrowed to slits as she studied him. "*You* were the man who was staying with Daniel. Tell me, Kurtis: do you always enter his place through the window?"
"I overheard him on the phone earlier that day, making plans to capture you. I waited outside, watched you go in, then climbed a drainpipe on the side of the building. Good deal for me; I found you, and didn't even have to pay the fat bastard any money."
"Why were you looking for me? Just to get that back?" She indicated his Glaive with a slender finger.
"No." His eyes flicked back to hers. "Karel has to be stopped, and I can't do it by myself. I need your help."
She thrust up a hand to halt his next words. "Even if Karel did come out of that little episode unharmed, the Sleeper was destroyed. Karel can't recreate the race without it."
"Don't be so sure about that."
"You know something I don't?"
"Something was eating the inmates in the Sanitarium."
"You mean the place where I should have gone, except that someone locked me up?" Lara inquired sweetly, a sarcastic set to her lips.
Kurtis smirked, and crossed his arms. "When you shut the power off it set something loose inside the Sanitarium. I saw it drag a guard off; took him up into one of the air vents. There was a man down there, a Sanitarium inmate, a truck driver who'd driven the Sleeper over from Turkey. They locked him up so he couldn't leak any information. He said something was eating the guards, and now it was feeding off of them. The 'Screamer' he called it. A Black Angel. The Nephilim is a hybrid cross between humans and fallen ange-"
"Angels, yes I know. It was the Proto. A Proto Nephilim, eating the guards and inmates."
Kurtis lifted both eyebrows. "Yes."
"I saw Eckhardt feed Boaz into something she called 'The Pod.' It must have turned her into that creature you fought later. He was punishing her for failing to destroy the Proto Nephilim." She absently tightened one leather glove as she spoke. "Eckhardt somehow created another Nephilim, without the Sleeper."
"Not just one."
Lara quirked an eyebrow.
"In one of the labs in the Sanitarium, there was something that looked just like the Proto Nephilim, trapped in a glass case, chained in place. But it wasn't alive. Or animated, at least."
"A failed attempt to create a Nephilim? Maybe that one was their first try, and the Proto Nephilim was their success."
"Maybe. Or maybe it just needed something to...wake it up."
"Charming thought." She returned the slip of paper to him. "So what's our next move? How do we destroy Karel, if the destruction of the Sleeper didn't do the trick?" She withdrew her .45, careful to keep its barrel aimed at the floor. "I doubt this is going to do any good against him, no matter how fond of it I am."
"The Nephilim are practically immortal. They can't be killed with regular weapons."
"Practically? Well, that lends a bit of comfort, at least." Her gun slipped quietly back into its holster. "If Karel can't be killed through mortal means, how do we off the man?"
"The same way Eckhardt was killed."
"The Shards?" Lara pursed her lips. "Kurtis, I hate to break it to you, but those Shards were in Eckhardt's body when the place blew. Karel might have escaped somehow, but I'm willing to venture a bet that Eckhardt did not get up and walk out of there with the Periapt Shards safely intact."
"I'm not going to argue with that." he agreed. "But there's a final Shard. One that only my father knew about. He passed on that knowledge to me before Eckhardt murdered him." Cerulean orbs flamed to ice at mention of this, taut muscles tensing further. Warily, Lara placed a slender hand on his shoulder, her fingertips caressing the gauze of the bandage he'd used to staunch the flow of his blood. He seemed to calm slightly beneath her touch, the tightness of his body slowly, lethargically uncoiling. "No one else in the world knows of its existence."
"Is that a hint to keep my mouth shut about it?" she replied, keeping her tone light.
"Might be a good idea."
"So where is this 4th Shard? And how do we get it?"
"I don't know." He thrust a hand up in the air, to halt her next words. "But that's part of why I came back. The Strahov Archives in Prague contain a ton of information on the Lux Veritatis. If we can get in, we might be able to find something on the location of the 4th Shard. If not..." He shrugged both strong shoulders.
"If not, we're screwed." Lara finished dryly. "And what do you mean 'if' we can get in? This place isn't open to the public?"
"No. It's home to many important documents that the government would rather not have Joe Average using for bathroom reading. The keeper of the Archives is a man named Luther Rouzic; a good friend to my father."
"Which means you can get us in." She tapped him lightly on the arm, her fingers lingering longer than was appropriate. "I knew you'd come in handy, eventually."
"Did I forget to mention I'm not on very good terms with Luther Rouzic?" he asked innocently, cocking an eyebrow.
Lara scowled. "Kurtis, I'm losing patience. And when I lose patience, things get ugly. Would you please care to explain to me how we're getting in to the Strahov Archives when you've pissed off the man who overlooks them and they're not allowing people to just walk in off the street?"
He smiled, the flickering intensity in his eyes instantly dissipating all traces of rage. She felt the light pressure of his fingers against her own, and glanced down to find his larger palm curved over her small hand where it still lay on his arm. Slowly, he curled his fingers through hers, lacing their hands together for a single moment. Her breath slipped raggedly through slightly parted lips, the rapid thundering of her heartbeat drumming more insistently than she would have liked.
Angry with herself, she plunged her hand from his, the violent motion stumbling her backward.
Kurtis reached out to steady her, lips twisting in the sexy expression now strangely familiar to her. *Dammit!* "I'm waiting!" Lara snapped, tucking both leather-sheathed hands safely out of his reach against her ribs.
"Hey, take it easy. I was just taking your hand off my arm. You seemed to have forgotten it was still there."
"I'm not interested in any explanations, Kurtis." *Just don't do it again.* "Just tell me how we're getting into the Archives."
"It's almost dawn. How about we take a little road trip? The Archives don't open for appointments until noon. We should be able to make it there before then."
"To do what? Make faces at them through the windows while one of us slips inside unnoticed?" she demanded sarcastically.
"If you want to use a distraction, you could always flash them those-"
"Don't follow that thought through if you'd like to keep your head intact and not have it splattered all over the pretty carpeting." she replied sharply.
"We're going to do a little breaking and entering. We'll stay the day in Prague, wait until night, when no one will notice us."
"Why not? I've already broken into a famous museum. Might as well add an exclusive library to my list."
"We'll need some equipment. I know someone who might be able to help us out with that."
"What? You don't carry around a Robbery-Made-Easy kit in your pocket?"
"Sorry. I'll be sure to be better prepared next time."
They stared at one another moment, until Lara broke eye contact, and turned her back on him. "Fine. Let's get this little show on the road. I prefer not to waste time. But-" She stopped mid-sentence, and pivoted on a heel to face him once more. "It's my turn to drive." Her hand slipped deftly into his front pocket, fumbling slightly before unearthing the keys to his motorcycle.
His eyes widened slightly at the bold move.
"Well. At least now you won't be able to blame any...excitement on the keys in your pocket."
A/N 2: Sorry there's not much action in this one. There'll be plenty in upcoming chapters, trust me.