Chapter 20
Triumphant, Carmelita reached a scaled hand down to pick up the Witchblade. Before she could touch it, lighting so bright it must have struck the fire escape, accompanied by a violent clap of thunder, shattered the silence of the room. A gust of wind blew in through the window Ian had not bothered to close, causing the temperature in the apartment to plummet.
Lighting flashed again, illuminating the lean figure standing in front of the glass. The wind blew around him, making the silk of his traditional Asian robes flap and lifting the ends of black hair that had been pulled back in a queue. As the light faded, he seemed to disappear, only to return on the next strike, closer than before.
He should not be able to pass the barrier any more than the unconscious man on the floor, and yet Carmelita paused. There was something about his demeanor that frightened her. She found herself taking a step back, although she couldn't say why.
The figure stopped before the circle, looking at the Gorgon with a face filled with cold fury. Very deliberately he stepped across the barrier, dark eyes glittering like jet. The look promised a slow and lingering death as he stepped closer. His hands flexed as if he was preparing to strike.
Carmelita took another step back, her foot touching the edge of the barrier. She could go no further. The enchantment kept her in, as it kept others out. The circle could only be taken down ritually. How the Asian man had passed through it, and was immune to her gaze, she did not know. The temperature in the room continued to drop. Carmelita could see the white plume of her breath, but none from him. It gave her some clues as to what his nature could be, but not enough to be sure about how to fight him.
He stopped a breath away from her, rage visibly crackling in the air around him. It manifested in a peculiar dancing green lightning, rather like St. Elmo's Fire. His hands rose slowly from his sides as if floating. The wind blew even harder, called by the gesture that held a command. Papers coasted about the room, the trash can fell over, all manner of small objects shifted under the onslaught. Scarlet sleeves danced before him as he pulled his arms in toward his chest.
In a sudden gesture, he flung those same arms toward the Gorgon. The green lightning leapt from his hands to strike Carmelita full in the chest. The blast knocked her back into the barrier with such force that it gave with a shower of ruby sparks. Carmelita skidded across the concrete floor of the loft and did not get up.
As the barrier came down, the bullet fell from where it had been held in magic's thrall. It bounced on the hardwood floor and rolled across the room. It struck the unconscious assassin on the cheek and stopped.
"Danny?" the brunette's voice was weak, but audible.
"I'm here Sara," He knelt at Sara Pezzini's side and wrapped his hands around her arm, holding the wound closed as the Witchblade had before abandoning her.
"Guess I really screwed up, huh?" Sara rasped.
"Well, you did wish to be free of the Witchblade on several occasions. In the future, please be more careful about what you wish for." Danny tried to smile, but it barely crossed his lips before disappearing.
A tear slid down his face as he watched his best friend continue to weaken, even with his hands holding her wound closed. The blood loss was too severe. If she weren't dying, he couldn't touch her to offer what help he was. The irony of the situation was not lost on him at all.
Realizing Danny's attention was on Sara, what was it with this girl? Carmelita stood up. Her scales were singed, but she was largely unhurt. It was good to be a demigoddess. She picked up the Witchblade. It lay cold and dull in her hand. The Gorgon gave a wordless cry at her triumph, raising the Gauntlet aloft and singing a paean to Ceto. She turned to the altar she had set up in preparation of the second part of the ritual.
Carmelita laid the Witchblade on the strange black altar. It had blood grooves that radiated out from a round depression in the center. The bracelet form just fit inside the hollow. Continuing to chant, the Gorgon held her still bloody blade aloft. Sara's blood began to smoke as the ritual knife heated. Soon it was glowing like white phosphorus, and impossible to look upon.
Danny looked up as soon as the Gorgon started chanting, and swore harshly. He could not stop her without taking his hands away from Sara, which, if he did, she would die. Besides, he was not sure that he could stop Medusa. He'd thrown everything at her he could, and she'd gotten back up. He wasn't about to risk Sara's life over a maybe.
The Gorgon began the downward arc that would drive the burning blade into the Witchblade when a soft 'pfft' sounded behind her. Carmelita lurched as the bullet entered the back of her head, the circle on the floor now nothing but a painted series of symbols.
As she fell, the barely standing form of Nottingham was revealed. He was leaning against the wall for support, but his arm was rock-steady. He watched the serpents settle into black locks, and the scales disappear. Medusa had gone; leaving the shell that was Carmelita behind like a shed skin.
Was it over? He didn't know. All he was sure of was Sara needed him. It took him two tries to get the gun holstered, but he succeeded. Once his hands were free, he dialed the precinct direct, telling the dispatcher that there was an officer down, and giving Pezzini's name and address.
Ian figured it would be faster than waiting for 911 to redirect the call, and was proven right when the welcome wail of an emergency vehicle broke through the other ambient night sounds almost before he could hang up the phone.
The exhausted assasin traded looks with the guardian spirit holding Sara to the earth. They both loved her, would sacrifice anything for her. In that moment, they understood one another perfectly.
Danny gave him a small smile, "You've got it bad."
"I know." Ian nodded.
"At least you've got good taste. Take care of her will you? After this stunt, I'm probably going to have my haunting license revoked." Danny said ruefully as he began to fade.
"If there is any justice in this universe, you will be back at Lady Sara's side very soon." Ian said to the vanishing figure.
He pushed away from the steadying wall and stumbled to take Danny's place at Sara's side. Nottingham ripped the remnants of his white shirt off and used it to bind Pezzini's arm. The frigid air bit into his exposed skin, but he ignored it. The only thing on his mind was the survival of the woman beside him.
"This's been a helluva firs' date," Sara slurred as she looked over at Nottingham's bent head.
"I admit, I am wondering what to do for a second date that could top it," Ian glanced up from the cords he was cutting.
"M'not sure I'd survive a secon' date," Sara groaned.
"I...I understand Lady Sara," Ian closed his eyes in regret. He had feared such a response.
"Jus kidding, Ian. But nex' time, les jus order Chinese an rent a movie, 'k?"
"That sounds...fine. That would be just fine." Nottingham relaxed; glad Sara hadn't decided she never wanted to see him again.
Once her bonds were cut, he covered her with the blankets that had been on the floor and went to unlock the door to her apartment. The sirens sounded like they were right outside. Any minute now, they'd come bursting up the stairs and take Sara to the hospital.
As he limped back to her side, the Witchblade caught his eye. He paused beside it, gloved hands hesitating over the dulled metal. He couldn't just leave it lying there; it would end up in a police evidence locker. Sara was in no condition to take it back, and might not want it anyway. She had railed against the Gauntlet's interference in her life so often, and tonight it's presence in her life had nearly caused her death.
Once before the Witchblade had left Sara's wrist, and he had returned it to what he had thought was its rightful place. He still thought that, but he knew now that such a decision was not his to make. Nor was it his master's, no matter what Irons liked to believe about himself. It was Sara's decision, and right now she was in no shape to make it. Not knowing what else to do, Ian pocketed the Witchblade. He would hold it in trust for her until she was ready.
The End...for now.
Ok gentle readers, I know what you're thinking. How can I stop there? The answer is, it's the best place I can come up with. Part three is percolating in my widdle brain, so trust me. This was the only place I could have stopped that would not have been above and beyond cruel. I thank you all for reading. It's been a wild ride, and I've enjoyed every second. I'm glad you all made it with me. Be thinking about how you think Sara and co. are going to deal with the changes. Will Sara take the Blade back after all her bitching? If so, why? If no, what will happen with her and Ian? Ahhh, the best part of thinking up a story, the questions to be answered. Love to you all, I appreciate the reviews, opinions, and camraderie.
Lassar
Triumphant, Carmelita reached a scaled hand down to pick up the Witchblade. Before she could touch it, lighting so bright it must have struck the fire escape, accompanied by a violent clap of thunder, shattered the silence of the room. A gust of wind blew in through the window Ian had not bothered to close, causing the temperature in the apartment to plummet.
Lighting flashed again, illuminating the lean figure standing in front of the glass. The wind blew around him, making the silk of his traditional Asian robes flap and lifting the ends of black hair that had been pulled back in a queue. As the light faded, he seemed to disappear, only to return on the next strike, closer than before.
He should not be able to pass the barrier any more than the unconscious man on the floor, and yet Carmelita paused. There was something about his demeanor that frightened her. She found herself taking a step back, although she couldn't say why.
The figure stopped before the circle, looking at the Gorgon with a face filled with cold fury. Very deliberately he stepped across the barrier, dark eyes glittering like jet. The look promised a slow and lingering death as he stepped closer. His hands flexed as if he was preparing to strike.
Carmelita took another step back, her foot touching the edge of the barrier. She could go no further. The enchantment kept her in, as it kept others out. The circle could only be taken down ritually. How the Asian man had passed through it, and was immune to her gaze, she did not know. The temperature in the room continued to drop. Carmelita could see the white plume of her breath, but none from him. It gave her some clues as to what his nature could be, but not enough to be sure about how to fight him.
He stopped a breath away from her, rage visibly crackling in the air around him. It manifested in a peculiar dancing green lightning, rather like St. Elmo's Fire. His hands rose slowly from his sides as if floating. The wind blew even harder, called by the gesture that held a command. Papers coasted about the room, the trash can fell over, all manner of small objects shifted under the onslaught. Scarlet sleeves danced before him as he pulled his arms in toward his chest.
In a sudden gesture, he flung those same arms toward the Gorgon. The green lightning leapt from his hands to strike Carmelita full in the chest. The blast knocked her back into the barrier with such force that it gave with a shower of ruby sparks. Carmelita skidded across the concrete floor of the loft and did not get up.
As the barrier came down, the bullet fell from where it had been held in magic's thrall. It bounced on the hardwood floor and rolled across the room. It struck the unconscious assassin on the cheek and stopped.
"Danny?" the brunette's voice was weak, but audible.
"I'm here Sara," He knelt at Sara Pezzini's side and wrapped his hands around her arm, holding the wound closed as the Witchblade had before abandoning her.
"Guess I really screwed up, huh?" Sara rasped.
"Well, you did wish to be free of the Witchblade on several occasions. In the future, please be more careful about what you wish for." Danny tried to smile, but it barely crossed his lips before disappearing.
A tear slid down his face as he watched his best friend continue to weaken, even with his hands holding her wound closed. The blood loss was too severe. If she weren't dying, he couldn't touch her to offer what help he was. The irony of the situation was not lost on him at all.
Realizing Danny's attention was on Sara, what was it with this girl? Carmelita stood up. Her scales were singed, but she was largely unhurt. It was good to be a demigoddess. She picked up the Witchblade. It lay cold and dull in her hand. The Gorgon gave a wordless cry at her triumph, raising the Gauntlet aloft and singing a paean to Ceto. She turned to the altar she had set up in preparation of the second part of the ritual.
Carmelita laid the Witchblade on the strange black altar. It had blood grooves that radiated out from a round depression in the center. The bracelet form just fit inside the hollow. Continuing to chant, the Gorgon held her still bloody blade aloft. Sara's blood began to smoke as the ritual knife heated. Soon it was glowing like white phosphorus, and impossible to look upon.
Danny looked up as soon as the Gorgon started chanting, and swore harshly. He could not stop her without taking his hands away from Sara, which, if he did, she would die. Besides, he was not sure that he could stop Medusa. He'd thrown everything at her he could, and she'd gotten back up. He wasn't about to risk Sara's life over a maybe.
The Gorgon began the downward arc that would drive the burning blade into the Witchblade when a soft 'pfft' sounded behind her. Carmelita lurched as the bullet entered the back of her head, the circle on the floor now nothing but a painted series of symbols.
As she fell, the barely standing form of Nottingham was revealed. He was leaning against the wall for support, but his arm was rock-steady. He watched the serpents settle into black locks, and the scales disappear. Medusa had gone; leaving the shell that was Carmelita behind like a shed skin.
Was it over? He didn't know. All he was sure of was Sara needed him. It took him two tries to get the gun holstered, but he succeeded. Once his hands were free, he dialed the precinct direct, telling the dispatcher that there was an officer down, and giving Pezzini's name and address.
Ian figured it would be faster than waiting for 911 to redirect the call, and was proven right when the welcome wail of an emergency vehicle broke through the other ambient night sounds almost before he could hang up the phone.
The exhausted assasin traded looks with the guardian spirit holding Sara to the earth. They both loved her, would sacrifice anything for her. In that moment, they understood one another perfectly.
Danny gave him a small smile, "You've got it bad."
"I know." Ian nodded.
"At least you've got good taste. Take care of her will you? After this stunt, I'm probably going to have my haunting license revoked." Danny said ruefully as he began to fade.
"If there is any justice in this universe, you will be back at Lady Sara's side very soon." Ian said to the vanishing figure.
He pushed away from the steadying wall and stumbled to take Danny's place at Sara's side. Nottingham ripped the remnants of his white shirt off and used it to bind Pezzini's arm. The frigid air bit into his exposed skin, but he ignored it. The only thing on his mind was the survival of the woman beside him.
"This's been a helluva firs' date," Sara slurred as she looked over at Nottingham's bent head.
"I admit, I am wondering what to do for a second date that could top it," Ian glanced up from the cords he was cutting.
"M'not sure I'd survive a secon' date," Sara groaned.
"I...I understand Lady Sara," Ian closed his eyes in regret. He had feared such a response.
"Jus kidding, Ian. But nex' time, les jus order Chinese an rent a movie, 'k?"
"That sounds...fine. That would be just fine." Nottingham relaxed; glad Sara hadn't decided she never wanted to see him again.
Once her bonds were cut, he covered her with the blankets that had been on the floor and went to unlock the door to her apartment. The sirens sounded like they were right outside. Any minute now, they'd come bursting up the stairs and take Sara to the hospital.
As he limped back to her side, the Witchblade caught his eye. He paused beside it, gloved hands hesitating over the dulled metal. He couldn't just leave it lying there; it would end up in a police evidence locker. Sara was in no condition to take it back, and might not want it anyway. She had railed against the Gauntlet's interference in her life so often, and tonight it's presence in her life had nearly caused her death.
Once before the Witchblade had left Sara's wrist, and he had returned it to what he had thought was its rightful place. He still thought that, but he knew now that such a decision was not his to make. Nor was it his master's, no matter what Irons liked to believe about himself. It was Sara's decision, and right now she was in no shape to make it. Not knowing what else to do, Ian pocketed the Witchblade. He would hold it in trust for her until she was ready.
The End...for now.
Ok gentle readers, I know what you're thinking. How can I stop there? The answer is, it's the best place I can come up with. Part three is percolating in my widdle brain, so trust me. This was the only place I could have stopped that would not have been above and beyond cruel. I thank you all for reading. It's been a wild ride, and I've enjoyed every second. I'm glad you all made it with me. Be thinking about how you think Sara and co. are going to deal with the changes. Will Sara take the Blade back after all her bitching? If so, why? If no, what will happen with her and Ian? Ahhh, the best part of thinking up a story, the questions to be answered. Love to you all, I appreciate the reviews, opinions, and camraderie.
Lassar