19
Seraph opened the door, suddenly the duet was in the Oracle's apartment.
Sekhmet shyly entered in, unused to such travel. "No need to be shy, Sekhmet," called the Oracle. A side of the cat's mouth quirked upright. She couldn't believe that she'd actually missed that. "Come in, I was just about to make cookies."
Sekhmet brightened somewhat and beelined for the kitchen. The Oracle had all the ingredients out. "You're just in time to help me with a batch."
"You'll teach me how to cook!?" Sekhmet had gratefully grabbed onto the distraction. "Cookies, if nothing else," she smiled. Sekhmet smiled back, though her pain was still evident in her eyes.
"Now, you just mix up all the ingredients. Make sure to give it extra love."
Sekhmet made it through the lesson with some minor mishaps, but she took the Oracle seriously and tried to will her love for Marcus into the cookies. "Now we just let them bake," the Oracle said at length.
Sekhmet nodded, covered from head to toe in flour. The Oracle lit up a cigarette. "Candy?" She shook her head in a polite refusal and sneezed as some of the flour tickled her nose. "We should get you cleaned off....but not with water." The African-American woman handed Sekhmet some paper towels.
She giggled sheepishly and started trying to clean herself off. "Why not with water?"
"Water and flour make paste," she replied. "Which is especially bad for the stuff in your hair."
"Oh." Sekhmet thought about this for a moment. "Makes sense…." The Oracle smiled at her. Sekhmet grinned back. "Now what?"
"Now... we clean up." She gestured to the bowls and spoons used to make the batter. Sekhmet managed to help out without any mishaps this go-round, also pausing every now and then to clean up the flour still falling from her hair.
"There... now we just have to wait." The Oracle lit up another cigarette. "For them to bake?"
"Well, that's one of the things we have to wait for, anyway." She sat and puffed the cancer stick. Sekhmet looked at her. "What else are we waiting for?"
"You know the answer to that better than any of us."
"Marcus," Sekhmet answered herself softly, after a moment's hesitation. She nodded. "He's fighting... as soft spoken as he is, it's his nature to fight." "I'd noticed," Sekhmet replied dryly.
"He's a strong one."
"Yes… he's fighting the Merovingian's reprogramming, isn't he?"
"With every fibre of his being."
"Is there any way I can help him?"
She shook her head. "It's a decision he'll have to make on his own... but either way, he won't be the same as when you knew him."
Sekhmet nodded slowly. "So it's… better for him if… I stay here?"
"It isn't that, Sekhmet." The Oracle breathed out a large cloud of smoke. "The Merovingian has put Marcus somewhere no one can reach him."
"Where?"
"It's just a train ride away."
***
Rafe walked into Le Vrai for the second time, having been summoned by the Frenchman. The coppertops couldn't see his dark blue wings, but he kept them folded close to his back regardless. "You rang?"
"Please, sit down." The Merovingian motion in front of him. Rafe did so, flicking his blue bangs out of his eyes at the same time. "I 'ave my first mission for you," the Frenchman said, taking a sip of wine.
"What is it?"
"Zere is an exile who 'as been escaping me routinely... I want you to go capture 'er"
"Constant escapes? What is she, a cat?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes." Rafe blinked a few times. "You're not kidding?"
"I am not."
Rafe looked at his cloth trench coat. "Maybe I should wear leather instead of cloth," he mused. "Harder to scratch through it."
"Do what you feel is necessary."
"All right. Sounds interesting. Do you know where she is?"
"She is in ze Oracle's building, zomewhere."
"The Oracle… okay. I'll get it done." The Merovingian took another sip of wine. "Am I running under any sort of a time limit?" Rafe asked as he made to rise. He shook his head. "Take as long as you want."
"All right. I'll be back with her."
"I am sure you will," the Frenchman replied.
***
Night was the time Rafe preferred above all others. Li had liked the night, too, which was probably why Rafe had been assigned to him… no, don't think about it. You've got work to do.
Rafael looked up at the apartment building, absently flexing his wings. Architect, but he wanted to fly again… His red eyes fell momentarily on his crippled right wing and a strange sigh issued from his mouth. Then with a flap of his wings, he'd given himself enough lift to make it to the fourth story fire escape, right outside the window where the kittified program slept.
Breaking in was a simple enough task, as was putting the female into standby mode. This is a helluva lot easier than I thought it'd be, he reflected as he gently picked her up. "Damn, but aren't you cute?" he murmured to the "sleeping" girl. Rafe turned to go…
"You assume she is not guarded," came a thickly accented oriental voice. Seraph met the other angel as he turned. Rafe stared at him, his mind racing and registering the other man's identity. "Oh my God… Seraph…."
"Put the girl down."
"No."
"That was not a request."
"I know."
"Put her down."
"Make me."
"As you wish." Seraph bowed to Rafe. The younger angel frowned, suddenly feeling like he'd been manipulated. Seraph dropped into a fighting stance. Yup. He's challenging me… damn it! Carefully, Rafe laid the cat-girl down and fell into a battle stance of his own. Seraph's fist suddenly flew out of nowhere, headed straight for Rafe's face.
His arm came up, deflecting the blow, and he attempted to deliver a felling blow into the other man's gut. Seraph side stepped this, stepping in and launching a three-punch combo at Rafe's chest. The fallen angel bent backwards, the edges of his wings brushing the ground as the punches flew over him, then they flapped and propelled him up and over Seraph's head; as he passed over, he tried to plant his ankle in the back of Seraph's head.
Seraph stumbled forward, but re-entered his stance as he rolled up with the blow, following up with a powerful sidekick as he leapt back into the fray. Rafael winced as Seraph's foot impacted with his side, throwing him to the floor, his wings folding around him protectively. He had to leave quickly, with the girl.
"I suggest you leave now. " Seraph stated, standing between Rafe and Sekhmet.
Rafe snorted. "I'm not leaving without her."
"I beg to differ."
The fallen angel's blood red eyes centred on Seraph, who stepped forward. The younger man stayed where he was, sideways to the wingless angel, just watching him carefully. Seraph stepped forward once more and lashed out another side kick. Rafe ducked under it, then one of his wings snapped out, catching Seraph in the gut and propelling him a good distance away from his opponent. Seraph hit the wall with a thud, his glasses knocked from his face.
Rafe ran for the cat girl and the exit, snatching her up and leaping out of the window, using his wings to slow his fall and land lightly enough that he wouldn't jar his crippled wing. He paused, looking up at the room he'd just left.
Seraph ran out a moment later... but he knew he would never reach them before they hit a backdoor. He looked out the window, at the escaping angel... and hoped that the Oracle was right.
***
Rafael walked into the château, the girl in his arms. The wing he'd used to slap Seraph away now ached, and he groaned as he realised that he'd stupidly used his crippled wing to do it. "Not her again," Cain lamented loudly as he saw Rafael's captive. Rafe smirked. "Sounds like someone's been scratched by the kitty," he taunted.
He grumbled and reached for his gun, but Abel held his "brother" back. "Oh, do let him try," Rafe answered. "The feathers are bullet-proof." "Enough!" The Merovingian called as he walked down the hallway. "You two, lock her up!" Rafe allowed them to take her, his right hand coming up to massage the cramp from his wing.
"You 'ave done well, my servant. So, you will be rewarded 'owever you wish." The frenchman replied. "Great. I'll think on that while I recover." The Merovingian smiled wickedly. "And zis time... zere will be no escape for ze kitten."