A/N: Ok, I'm back from camp now, (obviously,) so expect updates more often. The next chapter is already about halfway finished and will hopefully be ready either tomorrow or the next day. So read, review, and hopefully enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Tomb Raider belongs to Eidos and Core Design. Don't even bother trying to sue me; you'll get about five bucks, and is five bucks really worth all the trouble it will be taking me to court?
Chapter Three
__________________________________________________________________
Choices
Strahov Archives
Prague, August 8th, 2003
The building rose above all others, its top softly arched in a majestic dome, the entrance barred to the unworthy by the thickness of twin steel doors. Beneath the moon's brilliance, the stunning piece of architecture lay in silent wait, the streets surrounding it abandoned but for an elderly man out for a late-night stroll with his dog. They passed rapidly on, the sound of his heavier footsteps twining as one with the canine's pattering steps.
For a moment his wrinkled face gleamed beneath a soft wash of gold, the illumination from within the intimidating structure spilling out a nearby window to fall glistening across the damp sidewalk. Then, a moment later the lights snapped off, plunging the Archives into darkness.
The old man and his dog vanished into the swirling night, unconcerned with this familiar and, by now, unimpressive place.
Above, two dark figures crouched amidst grasping shadows, clinging side by side to the Archive's sloped roof. The recent storm had slickened its top, making progress difficult as they ascended damp stone.
In minutes, they reached the roof unnoticed, and rose on shaky legs.
Kurtis pit one hand against the roof's surface for balance, his body trembling slightly with the strain it had just endured. He noticed Lara slip out of the corner of his eye, and darted his free hand instinctively out for her wrist.
She plunged up a hand and shook her head, the abrupt motion loosening clinging bangs from high cheekbones.
He eyed her for a moment, then hoisted himself up over the lip of the roof and onto its flattened center. She landed gracefully beside him, her lithe body close to his own. They rose as one, keen eyes probing shifting darkness for signs of life, muscles tensed in anticipation.
Kurtis slipped free of the pack he wore, and slung it at his feet, pausing a moment to catch his breath. Strong shoulders rose and fell in harsh gasps, bile flowing to settle within the warmth of his mouth. He clutched with trembling fingers for his stomach, both eyes slipping shut.
Lara touched his shoulder.
He leaned against her a moment, his eyes still closed, his inhalations less ragged now.
"You said there are only a few guards?" she asked quietly when he'd pushed himself away.
Kurtis crouched now at her booted feet, unzipping the bag he'd dropped, his hands disappearing for a moment as they groped within. "Yes." He withdrew something from the pack's interior, the object lying cold and heavy within his palm. He passed it to Lara without turning around. "You'll need this."
She hefted it in one hand, testing its weight. It was identical to the one he gripped in his right hand; a specialized dart gun tipped with a fast-acting sedative which they'd picked up from Kurtis' friend. She had to admit his contact had come in handy; the man was apparently a big time player in the black market, specializing in illegal firearms. They'd picked up quite a few handy toys from him. She'd run afoul of the law before, many times in fact, and had no qualms about using less than legal means to get what she needed. It's for a good cause, after all.
"There's a door leading to a storage room on the far side of the roof. We'll get in that way. Once we're inside, we'll split up. Cover more ground that way."
"I don't know what to look for."
Kurtis' head snapped up. He zipped his pack closed and hoisted it onto his back once more, then stood. "Take this." he said quietly, handing a flashlight across to her. "Make sure you don't give your position away to the guards with it."
"Thank you, Kurtis. I never would have thought of that if you hadn't mentioned it." Lara retorted, a bit miffed.
"We'll stash the bag in the storage room and come back for it later. I don't want to be weighed down with a bunch of stuff we don't need."
"And you're going to show me where to begin looking, of course."
"Yes." He began walking, his boots caressing damp stone almost silently. She followed closely, slightly behind, exchanging her .45 for the dart gun as they traversed gleaming cement.
"For some reason I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've entered this place...illegally."
"It's not." he replied shortly, without slowing.
Her gaze surged to his powerful back, lingering against the muscles undulating beneath the clinging T-shirt he wore. He looked so strong, so capable...and yet that slight lapse in his aloofness just a few minutes earlier suggested a weakness, an old injury, most likely. One obtained during his confrontation with Boaz, she suspected, but wisely refrained from asking any questions. Lara doubted he'd be eager to discuss the subject. Particularly now, with him acting downright cold. He'd seemed to grow more and more tense as they approached the Archives building, his muscles cording beneath her hands as they roared ever closer to it on his motorcycle.
The day had not started out unpleasantly. She didn't deny enjoying perching behind him on the bike after a brief argument over the keys, encircling the hardness of his waist with her slender arms. And while collecting their new playthings, more than one stolen glance had passed between the two, with just enough intensity to hint that things might get interesting.
The crack of parting wood assaulted her ears, the heat of a seared door nipping at exposed flesh.
She froze in shock, glancing from Kurtis to the storage room door lying dented and mangled against the far wall of the darkened room. The acrid tang of smoke wafted to curl sensitive nostrils. "There had to have been a quieter way to do that. I thought we wanted to get in unnoticed. You don't think someone didn't hear that, do you?"
"Come on." he said, grasping her roughly by the arm and hauling Lara after him.
She shook him off, and drew the dart gun in one fluid motion. "Don't act like an animal, unless you want me to put you down like one."
"Leave your gun here." he replied, tossing down the bag.
The .45 clattered to hard pavement. "I think I'll do some exploring on my own. If you're going to run around blowing things up, I'd rather not get caught in the crossfire when the guards come running to pump you full of lead."
"Fine."
He stepped in front of her, closing strong fingers around the knob on the door leading into the Archives. He thrust it wide, and stepped into embracing blackness, the dart gun out before him.
She shook her head, and glided through the opening after him.
* * *
Rage flamed to life within his chest, chilling his heart as its loathsome touch flared throughout his body. He passed stealthily through clinging shadows, thrusting his weapon from corner to corner.
His breath slipped gently from between slightly parted lips, whispering harshly over soft flesh. The thrumming of his heart drummed more powerfully, its thunder drowning out all other sounds.
Kurtis dimly perceived the soft thuds of Lara traversing the opposite end of the staircase he climbed, moving away from him. Her scent merged as one with the surrounding musk of old books, eventually dissipating into oblivion.
He paused a moment, listening to her progress, his eyes focused far away, cold gaze converging on the only light which had not been extinguished.
Far above, golden illumination beckoned him silently forward, its brilliance revealed in the minuscule crack beneath a familiar door.
Quietly, Kurtis laid his dart gun aside, balancing it on the banister beside him. Then, his eyes never straying, he retrieved his Boran X from its holster, and slowly jacked a round into the chamber.
The minute click rang frighteningly loud in his ears.
Nothing stirred.
* * *
He appeared out of nowhere, wielding a slender dark object in one large hand. His gaze roved casually over the bookshelves rising to either side of his stocky body, this routine apparently an old and tedious one. Thin lips parted in a cheerful, high-pitched tone, this dissonant tune ringing within sensitive ears.
Lara froze.
In so lithe a movement even someone watching might not have caught it, she immediately spun behind the shelf nearest her, the dark silken cord of her hair swishing once in protest. It settled reluctantly over one softly rounded shoulder as all movement ceased, lying dormant against Lara's body as she pressed herself close to ancient books.
She felt the slick of bile rise against tightly compressed lips.
His scent threaded shadow-laced wood to settle in flaring nostrils.
Golden illumination danced briefly over sun-darkened flesh, its caress stilling a powerfully drumming heart. She glanced down at her weapon, its bulk lying cold and heavy against satin flesh, and grimly curved both small palms around its handle.
She preferred not to leave any evidence of her passing, but if it came down to shooting the bastard or leaving in a body bag...well, the Strahov Archives would have to make do with one less conscious guard.
He passed her sanctuary lethargically, each step torture to the young woman crouched mere feet away. The beam of his flashlight slipped with quiet ease over hard floor, edging all it touched in brilliance for a single moment.
Seconds later, the guard passed onward, his uniformed back melding as one with the ebony fog of grasping shadows.
A sigh parted full lips. Lara's body slackened, leaning heavily against the shelf at her back. I really shouldn't be so concerned about making a mess, after Kurtis' flamboyant entrance. He's probably off goading the other guards into a game of tag.
She shook her head and scowled.
Taking a cautious glance around, ears perked for the slightest sound, she loosened the flashlight clipped to her holster and snapped it on.
Its beam flared outward, revealing the tomes surrounding her on all sides.
"Let's see what we have here." Lara murmured, passing her light over dusty spines.
Silence settled thickly, a softly wandering veil of utter stillness. This eerie noiseless quality to the old building transported her back to the many various tombs she'd visited during her years of adventuring, the feeling not an unpleasant one even though she'd since relinquished her lust of exploring. After Egypt and such a near brush with death, not to mention a betrayal by a man whom she'd once considered a friend, a mentor, Lara had begun to look upon settling down in a whole new light. No matter her actions, however, it seemed she was destined to this life; thrust back into it unwillingly, pursued by cops over rain-slick rooftops, she was now coming to accept that this alone would remain her sole passion. Danger, adventure, harrowing escapes...they prompted life within her, awakened an ardor she'd thought dead.
*And maybe not the only passion, if I'm not careful.* Her mind conjured his image against her will, hard muscles sheathed only by thin cotton, tempting lips curled in sarcasm and amusement.
Kurtis Trent, she knew, would settle for no one. She sensed a kindred spirit in him despite their small time together, a loner who watched his own back and possessed little interest in those around him. The ice of those azure orbs cloaked many emotions, feelings which he had long since denied himself. She'd glimpsed them, from time to time, particularly when the subject of his father arose. He was not completely steel, as he appeared, but no one would ever elicit such a confession from him.
Slender fingers settled lightly against thick binding, smoothing aside clinging grime.
"The Nephilim: Sins of the Fallen Angels. This could be interesting."
The book toppled easily into her waiting hands. She slipped the flashlight between her teeth and clenched it there, rifling the volume's pages with both hands. Its metallic tang curved sumptuous lips in a grimace, the unpleasant taste lingering against the warmth of her tongue.
Finding the passage she sought, Lara spat the light gratefully into her right palm, catching it nimbly and turning its gleam on the pages.
"...and it was the ancient brotherhood of warrior monks, the Lux Veritatis, who combated these fearful creatures, a hybrid cross between fallen angels and human women. Nearly immortal, the results of these unholy unions could only be killed by special weapons possessed only by members of the Lux Veritatis. Often regarded with fear and loathing due to their strange occult powers, the Lux Veritatis now rose as heroes, the only hope for salvation from this evil." She ruffled a few more pages, scanning their contents. "I don't want the entire history of these ugly buggers, dammit. I need the location of the fourth shard."
The thunder of gunfire shattered the night's peace.
Lara's head snapped up, dark orbs widening. *He's gotten his head blown off.*
The Nephilim: Sins of Fallen Angels thunked forgotten at her booted feet.
* * *
The fading remnants of gunpowder seared his nostrils. He felt the bullet's passage, its violence parting the very air as it exploded the banister to his right. Mangled wood clattered at his feet.
Kurtis surged forward, his fist thrusting the man's jaw, the Boran X now gripped one-handed. Bone gave way beneath his flesh, carmine liquid trickling unbidden over parted lips. The guard stumbled backward, weapon thrusting up, its barrel wavering against Kurtis' chest.
He turned in a vicious spinning kick, his boot connecting solidly, lifting the man clean off his feet and flinging him backward.
He slipped with a final gurgle down the wall at his back.
"Sorry. But getting shot might ruin my plans." Kurtis whispered, crouching at the guard's inert side. "Nothing personal." A cold smile touched anger-whitened lips.
In the distance, the patter of pursuing footsteps prompted Kurtis to his feet.
"Lara." he breathed, the approaching figure sounding much too light on their feet for a man.
For a moment he paused, cerulean gaze scrutinizing ambulant shadows, his gun-filled hand drooping limply at one side.
Then, spinning, he sprinted into the encircling blackness.
* * *
She ran without thought, weapon at the ready, boots thrumming steadily in a beat much slower than the frantic pounding of her heart. She felt a sickness roiling within the depths of her gut, an image of crimson-painted steel rising in her mind as she barreled full-speed through dark hallways. The scent of death writhed in keen nostrils, its presence a fierce and malicious one even though conjured by her own imagination.
Harsh breath penetrated the stillness, flowing ragged and torn into the night's embrace.
*One shot. That's not good.* Two or more would have suggested a miss, that perhaps he'd gotten away unharmed. But only one...
She pushed herself on faster, arms pumping, traversing shadow-strewn corridors at a speed enviable to an Olympic sprinter. The white-hot slick of perspiration traversed the softly curved arch of her back, kissing the hardness of a flexing spine.
Muscles flamed in protest.
Lara reached the stairs she'd first descended after emerging from the storage room, and flung herself up them, unconcerned with stealth now.
He plunged the door free of its hinges in a single ferocious kick, and surged inside.
The room's single occupant thrust upward in shock, one trembling hand lying to rest against worn upholstery. He clutched tightly at the chair he'd vacated only a moment before, standing tall and erect to face this unexpected threat.
Kurtis aimed the barrel of his Boran X right between the man's eyes.
Two gnarled hands lifted in acquiescence.
The safety clicked off, thumbed by a single quivering finger.
They contemplated one another for a moment, cerulean gaze merging with ebony. Their breaths flared to mingle as one, harsh and throaty, both gasped through trembling lips.
Kurtis slipped his tongue along dry and chapped lips, keeping his strong two-handed grip on the Boran X.
"Kurtis-"
The Boran X thundered once, and the man dropped mid-sentence.
He stumbled backward on legs gone weak, his pistol slipping from perspiration-slick fingers, both eyes fluttering. He sank willingly against the wall at his back, blinking for a moment at the gore-coated desk before him, mahogany wood painted grisly carmine.
Only his own ragged breath filled the room now, its presence permeating the thick silence.
From the direction of the staircase, pounding footsteps erupted.
* * *
She discovered him minutes later, head sunk upon his chest, eyes fluttering, his pistol lying in silent wait at booted feet.
Lara froze just within the doorway, dark orbs widening on the scene, keen gaze flitting over the office's interior, its bookcases and tidy desk in direct contrast to the grisly visage lying prone only a few feet away. The stench of blood wafted to curl sensitive nostrils against its unpleasantness, its bitter metallic tang settling thick within the warmth of her mouth.
She took a cautious step inside, holstering her weapon as she tread silently over gory carpeting to his slumped figure.
He thrust up a hand.
She ignored this indication to keep back and took his arm in an iron grip, bending to retrieve the discarded pistol.
"This wasn't on the menu tonight, Kurtis." Lara observed quietly. She hefted the Boran X in one hand, and reached across the taut muscles of his abdomen to holster it.
He stirred against her, but his eyes remained closed.
Her lithe curves pressed close to his hard body, the sensation a familiar and strangely comforting one, the heat lent by her nearness instantly warming him. The labored breaths slipping from between parted lips slowly halted, losing their desperation, flowing more easily now.
"You're hurt."
"No." he grunted, and shifted away from her.
She placed a hand lightly against his shoulder. "Who was he?"
"Luther Rouzic."
She pulled back a little, startled, her eyes surging once more to the nearby corpse. "So when you said you weren't on very good terms with the man, what you meant was you had some sort of murderous rage toward him and decided to trick me into thinking that there might be helpful information here so you could get a shot at him."
"He helped Eckhardt kill my father. He betrayed his oldest friend and got him murdered."
"Is revenge all you Yanks think about?"
His lips curved briefly, taut and whitened by pain. "And sex."
"Charming. Are you going to stand there all night until the guards come and pick us up? I escaped jail once, you know, and I'm not about to have gone to all that trouble just to get tossed in the slammer for a crime you committed."
"We still need information on the 4th shard."
"Then that wasn't a story you sold me just to off the old man?"
"I didn't need your help killing him."
"That's obvious."
"Start looking. We don't have a lot of time. There are still a couple of guards wandering around. They might have heard the gun shot."
Her fingers tightened against his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Kurtis clutched reflexively for his aching stomach, unwavering azure orbs peeking upward through long dark lashes. I will be, as long as I don't get in any more fist fights with these pansy ass guards. He'd healed the wound inflicted by Boaz himself, using the limited occult powers taught to him by his father, and obviously done a rather shitty job of it. Strenuous physical activity seemed to agitate the injury lately, the agony roaring through his entire body as intensely as that moment cold steel had parted sinew and muscle, settling to rest inside him.
"I'm fine." he replied, sensing her stare. "You look around in here. I'll take the stairs."
"Right, so the cops can come in here and find me rifling casually through a dead man's desk. I don't think so."
He arched both eyebrows. "Fine. I'll check in here, and you-"
She plunged up a leather-sheathed hand, halting him mid-sentence. A slender finger descended to his parted lips, lightly brushing soft flesh. "Shh."
He felt his heart take up a thundering beat against the solidity of his ribcage, thrumming unnaturally quick. Pissed at this reaction, he flung her hand away, a bit more forcefully than he'd intended.
Lara glared at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Kurtis asked roughly.
"I'm trying to figure out what that noise is, but it's a bit difficult with you yammering in the background. So, if you'd kindly shut up..."
"What noise?"
To his right, something scrabbled within the wall's interior, the harshness of fingertips traversing stone assaulting sensitive ears.
They shared a look, both drawing their weapons without any prompting. "What the hell's going on?" Kurtis whispered, eyes narrowing.
She stepped up beside him, softly rounded shoulder brushing his own broad one, each unconsciously drawing comfort from the other's presence. "I was hoping you might be able to tell me that. And also, I would appreciate it if I was holding my .45 and not this ridiculous little toy."
The wall exploded, thrusting ancient stone all throughout the room, this shrapnel shredding flesh in its ferocity. Rippling dust spread as a thick blanket throughout the room, nearly sheathing Kurtis' view of the ragged hole blown in grimy brick.
He squinted into descending blackness, and his eyes fell on their invading figures, dark fearsome creatures which surged through the opening.
Cerulean orbs widened. *Fuck.*
He jerked the Boran X around to target the first of their attackers, and fired.
A/N 2: Hee hee. A cliffhanger. Dontcha' just love me? :D
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Tomb Raider belongs to Eidos and Core Design. Don't even bother trying to sue me; you'll get about five bucks, and is five bucks really worth all the trouble it will be taking me to court?
Chapter Three
__________________________________________________________________
Choices
Strahov Archives
Prague, August 8th, 2003
The building rose above all others, its top softly arched in a majestic dome, the entrance barred to the unworthy by the thickness of twin steel doors. Beneath the moon's brilliance, the stunning piece of architecture lay in silent wait, the streets surrounding it abandoned but for an elderly man out for a late-night stroll with his dog. They passed rapidly on, the sound of his heavier footsteps twining as one with the canine's pattering steps.
For a moment his wrinkled face gleamed beneath a soft wash of gold, the illumination from within the intimidating structure spilling out a nearby window to fall glistening across the damp sidewalk. Then, a moment later the lights snapped off, plunging the Archives into darkness.
The old man and his dog vanished into the swirling night, unconcerned with this familiar and, by now, unimpressive place.
Above, two dark figures crouched amidst grasping shadows, clinging side by side to the Archive's sloped roof. The recent storm had slickened its top, making progress difficult as they ascended damp stone.
In minutes, they reached the roof unnoticed, and rose on shaky legs.
Kurtis pit one hand against the roof's surface for balance, his body trembling slightly with the strain it had just endured. He noticed Lara slip out of the corner of his eye, and darted his free hand instinctively out for her wrist.
She plunged up a hand and shook her head, the abrupt motion loosening clinging bangs from high cheekbones.
He eyed her for a moment, then hoisted himself up over the lip of the roof and onto its flattened center. She landed gracefully beside him, her lithe body close to his own. They rose as one, keen eyes probing shifting darkness for signs of life, muscles tensed in anticipation.
Kurtis slipped free of the pack he wore, and slung it at his feet, pausing a moment to catch his breath. Strong shoulders rose and fell in harsh gasps, bile flowing to settle within the warmth of his mouth. He clutched with trembling fingers for his stomach, both eyes slipping shut.
Lara touched his shoulder.
He leaned against her a moment, his eyes still closed, his inhalations less ragged now.
"You said there are only a few guards?" she asked quietly when he'd pushed himself away.
Kurtis crouched now at her booted feet, unzipping the bag he'd dropped, his hands disappearing for a moment as they groped within. "Yes." He withdrew something from the pack's interior, the object lying cold and heavy within his palm. He passed it to Lara without turning around. "You'll need this."
She hefted it in one hand, testing its weight. It was identical to the one he gripped in his right hand; a specialized dart gun tipped with a fast-acting sedative which they'd picked up from Kurtis' friend. She had to admit his contact had come in handy; the man was apparently a big time player in the black market, specializing in illegal firearms. They'd picked up quite a few handy toys from him. She'd run afoul of the law before, many times in fact, and had no qualms about using less than legal means to get what she needed. It's for a good cause, after all.
"There's a door leading to a storage room on the far side of the roof. We'll get in that way. Once we're inside, we'll split up. Cover more ground that way."
"I don't know what to look for."
Kurtis' head snapped up. He zipped his pack closed and hoisted it onto his back once more, then stood. "Take this." he said quietly, handing a flashlight across to her. "Make sure you don't give your position away to the guards with it."
"Thank you, Kurtis. I never would have thought of that if you hadn't mentioned it." Lara retorted, a bit miffed.
"We'll stash the bag in the storage room and come back for it later. I don't want to be weighed down with a bunch of stuff we don't need."
"And you're going to show me where to begin looking, of course."
"Yes." He began walking, his boots caressing damp stone almost silently. She followed closely, slightly behind, exchanging her .45 for the dart gun as they traversed gleaming cement.
"For some reason I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've entered this place...illegally."
"It's not." he replied shortly, without slowing.
Her gaze surged to his powerful back, lingering against the muscles undulating beneath the clinging T-shirt he wore. He looked so strong, so capable...and yet that slight lapse in his aloofness just a few minutes earlier suggested a weakness, an old injury, most likely. One obtained during his confrontation with Boaz, she suspected, but wisely refrained from asking any questions. Lara doubted he'd be eager to discuss the subject. Particularly now, with him acting downright cold. He'd seemed to grow more and more tense as they approached the Archives building, his muscles cording beneath her hands as they roared ever closer to it on his motorcycle.
The day had not started out unpleasantly. She didn't deny enjoying perching behind him on the bike after a brief argument over the keys, encircling the hardness of his waist with her slender arms. And while collecting their new playthings, more than one stolen glance had passed between the two, with just enough intensity to hint that things might get interesting.
The crack of parting wood assaulted her ears, the heat of a seared door nipping at exposed flesh.
She froze in shock, glancing from Kurtis to the storage room door lying dented and mangled against the far wall of the darkened room. The acrid tang of smoke wafted to curl sensitive nostrils. "There had to have been a quieter way to do that. I thought we wanted to get in unnoticed. You don't think someone didn't hear that, do you?"
"Come on." he said, grasping her roughly by the arm and hauling Lara after him.
She shook him off, and drew the dart gun in one fluid motion. "Don't act like an animal, unless you want me to put you down like one."
"Leave your gun here." he replied, tossing down the bag.
The .45 clattered to hard pavement. "I think I'll do some exploring on my own. If you're going to run around blowing things up, I'd rather not get caught in the crossfire when the guards come running to pump you full of lead."
"Fine."
He stepped in front of her, closing strong fingers around the knob on the door leading into the Archives. He thrust it wide, and stepped into embracing blackness, the dart gun out before him.
She shook her head, and glided through the opening after him.
* * *
Rage flamed to life within his chest, chilling his heart as its loathsome touch flared throughout his body. He passed stealthily through clinging shadows, thrusting his weapon from corner to corner.
His breath slipped gently from between slightly parted lips, whispering harshly over soft flesh. The thrumming of his heart drummed more powerfully, its thunder drowning out all other sounds.
Kurtis dimly perceived the soft thuds of Lara traversing the opposite end of the staircase he climbed, moving away from him. Her scent merged as one with the surrounding musk of old books, eventually dissipating into oblivion.
He paused a moment, listening to her progress, his eyes focused far away, cold gaze converging on the only light which had not been extinguished.
Far above, golden illumination beckoned him silently forward, its brilliance revealed in the minuscule crack beneath a familiar door.
Quietly, Kurtis laid his dart gun aside, balancing it on the banister beside him. Then, his eyes never straying, he retrieved his Boran X from its holster, and slowly jacked a round into the chamber.
The minute click rang frighteningly loud in his ears.
Nothing stirred.
* * *
He appeared out of nowhere, wielding a slender dark object in one large hand. His gaze roved casually over the bookshelves rising to either side of his stocky body, this routine apparently an old and tedious one. Thin lips parted in a cheerful, high-pitched tone, this dissonant tune ringing within sensitive ears.
Lara froze.
In so lithe a movement even someone watching might not have caught it, she immediately spun behind the shelf nearest her, the dark silken cord of her hair swishing once in protest. It settled reluctantly over one softly rounded shoulder as all movement ceased, lying dormant against Lara's body as she pressed herself close to ancient books.
She felt the slick of bile rise against tightly compressed lips.
His scent threaded shadow-laced wood to settle in flaring nostrils.
Golden illumination danced briefly over sun-darkened flesh, its caress stilling a powerfully drumming heart. She glanced down at her weapon, its bulk lying cold and heavy against satin flesh, and grimly curved both small palms around its handle.
She preferred not to leave any evidence of her passing, but if it came down to shooting the bastard or leaving in a body bag...well, the Strahov Archives would have to make do with one less conscious guard.
He passed her sanctuary lethargically, each step torture to the young woman crouched mere feet away. The beam of his flashlight slipped with quiet ease over hard floor, edging all it touched in brilliance for a single moment.
Seconds later, the guard passed onward, his uniformed back melding as one with the ebony fog of grasping shadows.
A sigh parted full lips. Lara's body slackened, leaning heavily against the shelf at her back. I really shouldn't be so concerned about making a mess, after Kurtis' flamboyant entrance. He's probably off goading the other guards into a game of tag.
She shook her head and scowled.
Taking a cautious glance around, ears perked for the slightest sound, she loosened the flashlight clipped to her holster and snapped it on.
Its beam flared outward, revealing the tomes surrounding her on all sides.
"Let's see what we have here." Lara murmured, passing her light over dusty spines.
Silence settled thickly, a softly wandering veil of utter stillness. This eerie noiseless quality to the old building transported her back to the many various tombs she'd visited during her years of adventuring, the feeling not an unpleasant one even though she'd since relinquished her lust of exploring. After Egypt and such a near brush with death, not to mention a betrayal by a man whom she'd once considered a friend, a mentor, Lara had begun to look upon settling down in a whole new light. No matter her actions, however, it seemed she was destined to this life; thrust back into it unwillingly, pursued by cops over rain-slick rooftops, she was now coming to accept that this alone would remain her sole passion. Danger, adventure, harrowing escapes...they prompted life within her, awakened an ardor she'd thought dead.
*And maybe not the only passion, if I'm not careful.* Her mind conjured his image against her will, hard muscles sheathed only by thin cotton, tempting lips curled in sarcasm and amusement.
Kurtis Trent, she knew, would settle for no one. She sensed a kindred spirit in him despite their small time together, a loner who watched his own back and possessed little interest in those around him. The ice of those azure orbs cloaked many emotions, feelings which he had long since denied himself. She'd glimpsed them, from time to time, particularly when the subject of his father arose. He was not completely steel, as he appeared, but no one would ever elicit such a confession from him.
Slender fingers settled lightly against thick binding, smoothing aside clinging grime.
"The Nephilim: Sins of the Fallen Angels. This could be interesting."
The book toppled easily into her waiting hands. She slipped the flashlight between her teeth and clenched it there, rifling the volume's pages with both hands. Its metallic tang curved sumptuous lips in a grimace, the unpleasant taste lingering against the warmth of her tongue.
Finding the passage she sought, Lara spat the light gratefully into her right palm, catching it nimbly and turning its gleam on the pages.
"...and it was the ancient brotherhood of warrior monks, the Lux Veritatis, who combated these fearful creatures, a hybrid cross between fallen angels and human women. Nearly immortal, the results of these unholy unions could only be killed by special weapons possessed only by members of the Lux Veritatis. Often regarded with fear and loathing due to their strange occult powers, the Lux Veritatis now rose as heroes, the only hope for salvation from this evil." She ruffled a few more pages, scanning their contents. "I don't want the entire history of these ugly buggers, dammit. I need the location of the fourth shard."
The thunder of gunfire shattered the night's peace.
Lara's head snapped up, dark orbs widening. *He's gotten his head blown off.*
The Nephilim: Sins of Fallen Angels thunked forgotten at her booted feet.
* * *
The fading remnants of gunpowder seared his nostrils. He felt the bullet's passage, its violence parting the very air as it exploded the banister to his right. Mangled wood clattered at his feet.
Kurtis surged forward, his fist thrusting the man's jaw, the Boran X now gripped one-handed. Bone gave way beneath his flesh, carmine liquid trickling unbidden over parted lips. The guard stumbled backward, weapon thrusting up, its barrel wavering against Kurtis' chest.
He turned in a vicious spinning kick, his boot connecting solidly, lifting the man clean off his feet and flinging him backward.
He slipped with a final gurgle down the wall at his back.
"Sorry. But getting shot might ruin my plans." Kurtis whispered, crouching at the guard's inert side. "Nothing personal." A cold smile touched anger-whitened lips.
In the distance, the patter of pursuing footsteps prompted Kurtis to his feet.
"Lara." he breathed, the approaching figure sounding much too light on their feet for a man.
For a moment he paused, cerulean gaze scrutinizing ambulant shadows, his gun-filled hand drooping limply at one side.
Then, spinning, he sprinted into the encircling blackness.
* * *
She ran without thought, weapon at the ready, boots thrumming steadily in a beat much slower than the frantic pounding of her heart. She felt a sickness roiling within the depths of her gut, an image of crimson-painted steel rising in her mind as she barreled full-speed through dark hallways. The scent of death writhed in keen nostrils, its presence a fierce and malicious one even though conjured by her own imagination.
Harsh breath penetrated the stillness, flowing ragged and torn into the night's embrace.
*One shot. That's not good.* Two or more would have suggested a miss, that perhaps he'd gotten away unharmed. But only one...
She pushed herself on faster, arms pumping, traversing shadow-strewn corridors at a speed enviable to an Olympic sprinter. The white-hot slick of perspiration traversed the softly curved arch of her back, kissing the hardness of a flexing spine.
Muscles flamed in protest.
Lara reached the stairs she'd first descended after emerging from the storage room, and flung herself up them, unconcerned with stealth now.
He plunged the door free of its hinges in a single ferocious kick, and surged inside.
The room's single occupant thrust upward in shock, one trembling hand lying to rest against worn upholstery. He clutched tightly at the chair he'd vacated only a moment before, standing tall and erect to face this unexpected threat.
Kurtis aimed the barrel of his Boran X right between the man's eyes.
Two gnarled hands lifted in acquiescence.
The safety clicked off, thumbed by a single quivering finger.
They contemplated one another for a moment, cerulean gaze merging with ebony. Their breaths flared to mingle as one, harsh and throaty, both gasped through trembling lips.
Kurtis slipped his tongue along dry and chapped lips, keeping his strong two-handed grip on the Boran X.
"Kurtis-"
The Boran X thundered once, and the man dropped mid-sentence.
He stumbled backward on legs gone weak, his pistol slipping from perspiration-slick fingers, both eyes fluttering. He sank willingly against the wall at his back, blinking for a moment at the gore-coated desk before him, mahogany wood painted grisly carmine.
Only his own ragged breath filled the room now, its presence permeating the thick silence.
From the direction of the staircase, pounding footsteps erupted.
* * *
She discovered him minutes later, head sunk upon his chest, eyes fluttering, his pistol lying in silent wait at booted feet.
Lara froze just within the doorway, dark orbs widening on the scene, keen gaze flitting over the office's interior, its bookcases and tidy desk in direct contrast to the grisly visage lying prone only a few feet away. The stench of blood wafted to curl sensitive nostrils against its unpleasantness, its bitter metallic tang settling thick within the warmth of her mouth.
She took a cautious step inside, holstering her weapon as she tread silently over gory carpeting to his slumped figure.
He thrust up a hand.
She ignored this indication to keep back and took his arm in an iron grip, bending to retrieve the discarded pistol.
"This wasn't on the menu tonight, Kurtis." Lara observed quietly. She hefted the Boran X in one hand, and reached across the taut muscles of his abdomen to holster it.
He stirred against her, but his eyes remained closed.
Her lithe curves pressed close to his hard body, the sensation a familiar and strangely comforting one, the heat lent by her nearness instantly warming him. The labored breaths slipping from between parted lips slowly halted, losing their desperation, flowing more easily now.
"You're hurt."
"No." he grunted, and shifted away from her.
She placed a hand lightly against his shoulder. "Who was he?"
"Luther Rouzic."
She pulled back a little, startled, her eyes surging once more to the nearby corpse. "So when you said you weren't on very good terms with the man, what you meant was you had some sort of murderous rage toward him and decided to trick me into thinking that there might be helpful information here so you could get a shot at him."
"He helped Eckhardt kill my father. He betrayed his oldest friend and got him murdered."
"Is revenge all you Yanks think about?"
His lips curved briefly, taut and whitened by pain. "And sex."
"Charming. Are you going to stand there all night until the guards come and pick us up? I escaped jail once, you know, and I'm not about to have gone to all that trouble just to get tossed in the slammer for a crime you committed."
"We still need information on the 4th shard."
"Then that wasn't a story you sold me just to off the old man?"
"I didn't need your help killing him."
"That's obvious."
"Start looking. We don't have a lot of time. There are still a couple of guards wandering around. They might have heard the gun shot."
Her fingers tightened against his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Kurtis clutched reflexively for his aching stomach, unwavering azure orbs peeking upward through long dark lashes. I will be, as long as I don't get in any more fist fights with these pansy ass guards. He'd healed the wound inflicted by Boaz himself, using the limited occult powers taught to him by his father, and obviously done a rather shitty job of it. Strenuous physical activity seemed to agitate the injury lately, the agony roaring through his entire body as intensely as that moment cold steel had parted sinew and muscle, settling to rest inside him.
"I'm fine." he replied, sensing her stare. "You look around in here. I'll take the stairs."
"Right, so the cops can come in here and find me rifling casually through a dead man's desk. I don't think so."
He arched both eyebrows. "Fine. I'll check in here, and you-"
She plunged up a leather-sheathed hand, halting him mid-sentence. A slender finger descended to his parted lips, lightly brushing soft flesh. "Shh."
He felt his heart take up a thundering beat against the solidity of his ribcage, thrumming unnaturally quick. Pissed at this reaction, he flung her hand away, a bit more forcefully than he'd intended.
Lara glared at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Kurtis asked roughly.
"I'm trying to figure out what that noise is, but it's a bit difficult with you yammering in the background. So, if you'd kindly shut up..."
"What noise?"
To his right, something scrabbled within the wall's interior, the harshness of fingertips traversing stone assaulting sensitive ears.
They shared a look, both drawing their weapons without any prompting. "What the hell's going on?" Kurtis whispered, eyes narrowing.
She stepped up beside him, softly rounded shoulder brushing his own broad one, each unconsciously drawing comfort from the other's presence. "I was hoping you might be able to tell me that. And also, I would appreciate it if I was holding my .45 and not this ridiculous little toy."
The wall exploded, thrusting ancient stone all throughout the room, this shrapnel shredding flesh in its ferocity. Rippling dust spread as a thick blanket throughout the room, nearly sheathing Kurtis' view of the ragged hole blown in grimy brick.
He squinted into descending blackness, and his eyes fell on their invading figures, dark fearsome creatures which surged through the opening.
Cerulean orbs widened. *Fuck.*
He jerked the Boran X around to target the first of their attackers, and fired.
A/N 2: Hee hee. A cliffhanger. Dontcha' just love me? :D