a/n can be found at the end of this chapter.
******
It Must Have Been Love
Lay a whisper on my pillow,
leave the winter on the ground.
I wake up lonely,
there's air of silence in the bedroom and all around.
Touch me now,
I close my eyes and dream away.
It must have been love but it's over now.
It must have been good but I lost it somehow.
It must have been love but it's over now.
From the moment we touched 'til the time had run out.
Make-believing we're together,
that I'm sheltered by your heart.
But in and outside I've turned to water like a teardrop in your palm.
And it's a hard winter's day, I dream away.
It must have been love but it's over now,
it was all that I wanted,
now I'm living without.
It must have been love but it's over now,
it's where the water flows, it's where the wind blows.
******
It had been too good to be true. She saw the look on Jarod's face and knew their small reprieve was over. She had expected as much, but damn! It had happened sooner than she'd thought it would.
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a single brow. "Well?" she demanded.
Jarod knew. She knew that. But then she saw the stubborn look pass over his face, she knew getting answers from him would be much like uncovering the Centre's secrets. Close to impossible.
Before Jarod could even open his mouth to refute anything was going on, Parker beat him to it. She stood up, hoping to be on more even ground with the man before her, and raised the other eyebrow.
"Don't even try lying to me, Jarod. Save whatever nice little falsehood you had on the tip of your silver tongue and don't bother."
Jarod grinned unrepentantly, "All right, Parker, but don't expect me to give you the truth, either."
Realizing she looked ridiculous standing there in just her silk shirt and nothing else, Parker had no choice but to stand her ground, after all, she had nothing else to lose, not even her pride. "Why not, Jarod? Just what is it you are hiding?"
He sighed, "Parker, please, I can't answer your questions. Don't push this."
"Can't or won't?" she threw at him.
He tightened his jaw, "For once, can't you just trust me?"
Parker turned away, unable to meet his eyes, "Why should I, when you obviously don't trust me either," she told him as she pushed passed him into the bathroom, "I need something to wear if we're leaving."
"We won't be leaving until after sundown."
Parker stopped, "Just why the hell not?" she turned towards Jarod to get a better gauge on just what he was hiding from her. "Did you not just tell whoever you so nicely termed "Gator Bait" that you would head back to New Orleans as soon as you could?"
He nodded, his jaw tensed as he waited for the inevitable question.
"Then why are we waiting for sundown? Tell me you're not pretending to be some sort of a vampire, Jarod," she demanded, hoping to goad him into giving her an answer.
There was that unrepentant smile again, so full of wickedness that Parker felt herself softening just a bit towards him.
"I'm not pretending to be anything, Parker. I cannot leave until after dark, so we wait."
Her eyebrow rose, and she wanted to strangle him for being so infuriating. Instead she merely took up the challenge. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation?" she asked sweetly, switching tactics.
He sighed in frustration, "Yes," then he spit out almost angrily, "But that doesn't mean that I can give you one, Parker, so don't push me anymore."
Giving vent to her own frustration, Parker let loose a growl and realized that she would get nothing from Jarod now. Not when he had obviously dug in was being obstinate about everything. Typical, she seethed, how typical of him to keep me in the dark about vital information!
The next few hours were spent with them glowering at each other from across the room, she sitting on the futon, her arms crossed over her chest, still dressed in just her silk blouse that showed her ridiculous lavender panties. Jarod was in the kitchen cooking up what looked like canned soup.
As the aroma wafted over to Parker's side of the cabin, her stomach growled fiercely, making her realize that she hadn't eaten since her bizarre dinner with Lyle the night before when he'd morbidly performed an autopsy on his sirloin.
She was watching him, knowing she shouldn't allow herself such a luxury like staring at Jarod's smooth, toned body. Especially when all he was wearing was his leather pants, and as she watched him putter about the kitchenette, Parker realized several things.
There was nothing sexier than a half-naked man cooking in the kitchen. And she was madly in love with the sexy, half-naked man currently cooking in the kitchen.
There, I've admitted it, twice now, she thought in somewhat of a panic. So why don't I feel better? Because I'm not so sure he loves me back.
Therein was the crux of her problem, of most of her problems. Just because she cared about someone, that didn't mean they reciprocated her feelings. But she just didn't care about this man; she truly loved him, and had for as long as she had known him. Over the years he had given her looks, left her clues, had even made love to her last night, but did he truly love her like she loved him?
She tore her eyes away from Jarod's body and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh god," she muttered under her breath, "One night in his bed, and already I'm acting like a lovesick, hormonal teenager."
Disgusting, Parker, truly disgusting, her father's voice silently mocked her.
When her eyes finally stopped pleading with the ceiling, she saw that Jarod's intense gaze was fixed upon her and with one side of his mouth curled up in an amused smile, she knew he'd caught her not only talking to herself, but also casting his mysterious friend's ceiling beseeching looks for help. Wonderful.
"I figured you'd be hungry," he offered her a steaming bowl and spoon of chicken noodle soup.
Taking the bowl somewhat sheepishly, Parker began to eye the soup somewhat skeptically, before taking a hesitant swallow of the broth.
"I haven't eaten chicken noodle soup since I was in grade school," she told him, after her second bite.
Slowly, Jarod sat down on the futon beside her, but kept his distance from her. He gave her a charming, roguish smile before admitting he'd never had the stuff before.
Parker nodded, allowing herself to realize— if not for the first time, at least the first time in Jarod's presence—how much the Centre had stolen from him. She kept silent though, because she had nothing to offer him but an apology that she knew he would reject. It was then that Parker realized she had never come to New Orleans to take Jarod back to the Centre, but to find out why he had disappeared.
She eyed Jarod, sizing up her opponent. So far, all she'd done was whine and bitch at him. It was so uncharacteristically her, that Parker was a miffed with herself for acting so childishly. She needed to resort back to the tactics that had almost guaranteed results. And maybe a few previously untried ones. After all, she and Jarod had just moved to a whole new level in their bizarre relationship. She smiled as she finished off her soup, thinking to herself, he'll never know what hit him.
*******
Lyle had sent his team of sweepers to track down Jarod's lair, but like his sister before them, they were having difficulty tracking the Pretender because he followed none of his usual methods. He was not trying to help any downtrodden victim in need of justice. He wasn't trying to right any wrong.
So what exactly was Jarod doing in New Orleans?
Lyle couldn't take staring at the walls of his hotel room any longer. Ever since the day Lyle had been ordered to kill Sydney, Angelo, his little brother Ethan and the rest of Jarod's family, he dreamed about them. Even Jarod's pain-filled eyes haunted him at night, condemning him for his crimes against his family.
He retraced his steps down to the French Quarter, to the street he had last seen his sister and prowled the streets for the afternoon. The weather was almost unbearably humid and it wasn't long before his starched shirt clung to his skin, his face shone with a fine sheen of sweat. Lyle walked without really knowing where he was going.
When he looked up, it was to find himself in Jackson Square. Directly across the street from him was a woman wearing a black flowing dress and a large-brimmed straw hat next to a metal wheeled cart and a small table draped in a dark purple cloth. She was reading someone's fortune using Tarot Cards. On the cart was a sign in glittered paint that read: Madam Selene Moon Mistress.
Lyle looked around the rest of the square, saw the wrought iron fence that enclosed it, and where most of the vendors hawking their wares set up shop; next to the iron fence. A man playing the saxophone on the corner added to the general cacophony that surrounded him, but Lyle's eyes were continually drawn back to the fortune teller.
What the hell, he thought, it'll pass the time.
So Lyle crossed the street and waited for Madam Selene to finish up with her current customer. On closer inspection, Lyle saw that she was rather pretty in an eccentric way, with her frizzy brown hair pulled back from her face by what looked like a zebra-striped scarf. Her arms were covered in silver bracelets that jingled with her every movement; they matched the large silver hoops that dangled from her lobes, almost to her shoulders. The dress she wore would have been a staple in any witch's wardrobe a hundred years ago, but it somehow suited her, Lyle mused.
The older lady left, winking at Lyle as she passed, and he was suddenly not so certain having his fortune read would be such a good idea. Shit, he scowled at the woman sitting before him, what do I have to lose?
So he sat.
Madam Selene smiled at him, "Have you come to see what the Fates have in store for you?"
Lyle inclined his head, preferring not to truly commit himself to this foolishness. He'd never truly believed in these types of things, relegating them to the same place as he would anything else that required belief in some mystical, unseen power. Yet, here he was, like some hapless fool.
It reminded him of those damned scrolls Mr. Parker had died for, that Jarod and Parker had sought on the island of Carthis. Did he truly not believe in a higher power? After all, the scrolls were supposed to be the source of his family's power in the Centre for so long. It had foretold about that arrogant son of a bitch, Jarod.
Shaking off whatever nonsense that had gripped him, Lyle returned his attention back to the fortune teller before him. She was looking him over, as if she had somehow divined his thoughts.
"What would you like to the Fates to reveal in the cards? Ask your question and the answers will be revealed to you," she told him, her words seemed to carry a powerful message as if she really communed with the Fates.
Lyle watched in fascination as Madam Selene shuffled her tarot cards deftly, she then laid the cards in a neat pile before him on the table, and waited expectantly.
What did he want to know? Uneasily, he admitted he was extremely worried about Parker. However, knowing goodie-goodie Jarod, she was in all likelihood safer with him than her own brother. What about Jarod? He had seen retribution in Jarod's fathomless eyes last night. Did he dare give voice to his fears aloud?
Clearing his throat, Lyle debated, all the while the sun beat down on him and the thick, swirling air seemed to choke him. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades and down his chest. Make a decision, Lyle, goddamnit! You wanted a diversion, now be man enough to follow through. It's not as if you actually believe this bullshit. The voice in his head screamed at him, an echo of his foster father's.
Shaken, Lyle blurted out the first question that came to mind, "Will I beat him?" he then reached out an unsteady hand and cut the deck.
The fortune teller held out her hand to him, her bangles jingling merrily. Lyle handed her the deck, wishing he could take back his hasty question, though the woman would never be able to understand what he'd meant by it, it made him feel extremely vulnerable even having revealed even a small part of his self-doubt to a stranger.
"Would you like me to do an in depth reading, mister?" she asked him.
He wanted to snap at her impatiently to be done with it as quickly as possible, but whatever had propelled him to walk across the street to her cart, urged him to answer, "Sure, might as well."
Madam Selene chuckled and began laying cards down on the table in front of him. She laid one in the center of the table and one on top of it, crossways over the first card. She then laid one card directly in front of Lyle, one to the right of the original two cards, one directly in front of her, and then one to the left. It made a cross of sorts. She then laid four cards, vertical to the pattern of cards, on Lyle's right.
Her expression went from interest to surprise, to false cheer as she looked up into Lyle's nervous gaze.
"Well," he prodded her impatiently.
Since Lyle had no idea what any of the cards meant, the fortune teller began explaining to him what the cards said.
"This first card talks about the overall situation, what surrounds you regarding this situation you've asked about. It is Magic reversed. It basically says that someone or something is manipulating things in secret. Whether it refers to you or someone else remains to be seen.
"This second card is what is influencing this situation, for good or ill. It's the Devil. There are a lot of lies involved. This says that there is an outside force manipulating the situation for evil. They want something and are willing to do what it takes to get it. You need to consider that."
Lyle nodded, but his mind drifted away. Absently he thought that there might be something to tarot cards after all.
Madam Selene's voice pulled him out of his reveries; she pointed to the third card, the one lying in front of him, and said "This card refers to what the basis of the whole problem is. It's the five of swords. This card means there's a struggle going related to what is happening, a lack of trust, and a need for protecting oneself. Right now, there's a truce of sorts, though how long that will last depends on the Fates."
"The fourth card tells us about the past, what influences are going or gone. This is the five of staves. It seems there was a lot of conflict, arguments, and petty disagreements that put a major halt to everything. Whether this was all in your head or involved the people around you, you need to remember that this sort of conflict helps no one."
By this time, Lyle's face barely registered the gamut of emotions he was truly feeling. He was too damn shocked.
"This card here," Madam Selene pointed to the card closest to her, "tells me about your current state of mind. Since it's the seven of swords reversed, that means you might be feeling paranoid, defensive, guilty, or a definite urge towards self-preservation. Or," she paused for effect, "all of the above," she winked at him then, seeing the look of utter disbelief on his face.
"How interesting," she muttered to herself, to him she merely went on with her explanation. "The sixth card talks about near future influences. It's the seven of staves, by the way. It means that there's going to be a fight. Even though you have the high trump card working in your favor, doesn't mean that you can avoid this conflict. You can win, but only after removing someone who opposes you, they have their own goals, and you need to remain aware of that.
"The seventh card is the card that talks about how you view what's happening, how you're being influenced. This card, Strength reversed, says that you're feeling the strain of what's happening, striking out at others. Again, I remind you that arguing doesn't help matters any.
"Number eight is how others view you. This is the Chariot reversed. You're impatient with those around you. You're not paying attention, either. They see you as indecisive and ineffective."
Lyle ground his teeth as he remembered that tomorrow he was officially being replaced.
"Almost finished. Number nine is all about your emotions concerning the whole affair. This card is the Tower reversed. This is actually a good thing. It's basically telling you to smile. Things are going to get better; you just have to believe it. Someone is working in your favor; you just have to trust them."
Lyle snorted, but remained silent.
Madam Selene looked up; she raised one of her eyebrows as if silently scolding him for his expression of cynicism in what she'd said. "Lastly, is what may come about, good or bad, on the choices you make from this moment on. Ooh, its Death reversed. Now, mind you, this is only based on this moment in time. Death reversed is basically saying you will never change, based on this moment." Selena looked up at Lyle and saw that he was still wearing the same expression he had when he'd snorted earlier. She took it upon herself to warn him, "Death has many faces, mister, and sometimes it's a good thing. Death can mean change for the better, something negative that was holding you back, has let go and now you can move forward. Unfortunately, this says you'll resist any changes, you fear them too much. Basically, that no matter how hard you struggle against it, you'll fail."
The humidity must have finally got to him, he concluded sourly, because he had almost believed everything the idiot woman had just said. Scowling, Lyle pulled out his wallet and threw a wad of bills on the table, not caring there were several twenties, a five and two ones, which put him about forty dollars over Madam Selene's fee. He stormed off, a chill of foreboding running up his spine. What if she was right?
What the hell was he thinking? If there was one thing Lyle didn't do, it was fail. He'd prove to Raines, the Tower, and the Triumvirate that he could catch Jarod. Or he'd die trying.
Selena watched her angry customer storm off and wondered who it was he was trying to beat and why it mattered so very much to him. Shrugging, she grinned unrepentantly as she gathered up the money the guy at literally thrown at her and stuffed it in the small cigar box she used to store money and her precious cards in.
Her mind was already racing ahead to that night; with the extra money she could treat her husband to a night on the town. It had been a while since they'd gone out together. Wouldn't Bill be thrilled?
Laughing to herself, Selena put the disturbing man out of her mind as another customer came up to have their fortune read.
********
His ears were still ringing from Artie's shrill demands. Ash gritted his teeth and pushed the manipulative goddess from his mind, concentrating on the task ahead. Damn that arrogant, little sack of … Ash grinned suddenly, his hands flying over the controls of his custom built helicopter. Ah well, Ash couldn't really blame Jarod for having broken that code. In the two years since he'd turned, everyone knew that Jarod, like Kyrian before him, had been abstinent. Ash laughed, Kyrian had definitely had more control though.
But since Kyrian's wife was also the reason he'd turned Dark-Hunter, maybe it stood to reason that Kyrian was just waiting for the right women to come along and screw him … up. Ah, when did he start making stupid word plays in his mind? Was it after he'd been alive for a few hundred years? Life got real old, real quick. And as much as he was loath to admit it, very few things brought him pleasure anymore. Daimons just were not the challenge they'd been a couple of hundred years ago. With the exception of Jarod, no new hunters had been created recently, and the only excitement Ash saw anymore was fighting with Artie or reprimanding his wayward hunter.
Zarek had always given him hell, along with Valerius and a few others. Shit, he had thought Jarod was going to go strictly by the book since he'd failed to arouse anything more than a perfunctory irritation in Ash since he'd been trained. He kept to himself, he didn't contact people from his past life, didn't break any part of his sworn oaths. So why now?
It was because of this girl, Ash knew. Well, he thought, she better be worth the ass whoopin' he's going to get for this screw up.
*******
A/N: I finally got my site up, which you can visit and find the "other" version of this story @ e, even though I *DO* really like this song)
Disclaimer: Same as previous Chapter.
Synopsis: What happens when you take Jarod, turn him into an immortal vampire slayer, and throw in a lot of Parker, sarcasm, a gun, intrigue, Lyle, Raines and a mysterious female assassin sent by the Triumvirate? My story, what else? Duh! LOL
