The four Ghostbusters were standing in the police impound lot, around Janine's car. Winston was talking to the officer assigned to the case, Ray was taking readings off the car, and Peter was inside, trying to find anything that could give them a clue as to what had happened.
Egon stood there, staring at the car, lost in thoughts.
It wouldn't have killed me to have gone with her. If I'd gone, she'd still be here now. I should've said something the day she left...or when I had the first feeling... He sighed miserably, knowing every second spent was pulling Janine further from them...from him.
Peter's cursing jarred him back to reality.
"Everything's still in the car," he said, climbing out.
"There aren't any readings," Ray added, turning off the meter. "The front of the car is pretty smashed. She could be wandering around with amnesia."
"The officer told me where Janine's car was found," Winston told them, leaving the officer. "How about if we go there, and check it out?"
Egon nodded distractedly, forcing his gaze from the car. "Let's go," he said softly.
"Is what as bad as I thought?" she asked.
Magdaline smiled secretively. "Being Christopher's lover."
Janine blushed, ducked her head down to the skinned pheasant on the counter.
Nine months had passed since she'd first arrived, the last three months spent as Christopher's mistress instead of a true slave. Any more, she didn't think she knew any other way to live. New York seemed like a dream sometimes.
She glanced back up, brushing her hair out of her face.
"No." she finally answered. "He's very kind although I know I must frustrate him sometimes. I'm still not sure of my role."
"You go when you're called," she told her, gingerly touching an old bruise on her arm. Janine frowned.
"You never did tell me how you got that."
Magdaline turned her attention to the soup. "The only advantage to being Michael's mistress, is you get to keep you life," she smiled. "Although I do get a couple of other perks."
Janine looked at the woman stunned. In the time she'd been here, it never once occurred to her that Magdaline could be Michael's mistress. She was about to speak, when a pain ripped across her body. She cried out, clutching her stomach. Magdaline dropped the spoon, rushing towards where Janine was trying to stand up.
"What's wrong? Are you ill?"
"No." Janine gasped. Her head felt like it was trying to flatten itself. "There's someone here," she heard herself say. "Find Lord Michael or Christopher." she gasped. Magdaline looked a Janine again, then rushed out of the kitchen. As suddenly as the pain came, it left. But she didn't get time to catch her breath. The door to the kitchen opened and a man she didn't know came in branishing a sword. He glared at Janine.
"Move wench," he spat out.
Janine grabbed the nearest thing she could fine, a cast iron pan, and branished it like a weapon. "Get out," she spat out.
The man came towards her holding his sword towards her. "I warned you," he said. Janine swung, hitting his arm. The sword flung out of his hand, and he swore loudly. He grabbed a knife off the counter, swinging it towards he.
"Now you die."
Before either could move, the door burst open again, and Michael and Christopher rushed in, followed by Magdaline. The man was distracted from Janine, and that was the only second she needed. Using all her weight, she swung the pan, hitting the man along side him head. He went down, bleeding, without a sound. Michael and Christopher looked at the man, then at Janine, who was gasping for breath.
Michael looked at his brother. "Well, you spell woks better than even I anticipated." he said. Janine looked at both men, still holding the pan.
"What did you do to me?" she asked. Magdaline slid over to her, taking the pan from Janine's hands.
"You are the reason we are unstoppable," Michael told her. "Be thankful, or you'd be dead by now."
Two male slaves came in, and drug the body out the door. Janine never took her eyes off of Michael. "You'd better hope that the pain isn't part of the early warning system," she said. "Or I'm going to be a bitch to deal with."
Michael smiled winningly. "Not to worry. You already are a bitch to deal with."
Janine smiled back. "My Lord, you haven't seen anything yet."
Egon was sitting at the receptionist desk, waiting for the phone to ring again. when they'd gotten back to the firehouse two days ago, he'd called Janine's mother to tell her the news. He felt it was the least he could do, and besides, out of all four men, Mrs. Melnitz had only really met him for more than five minutes at a time. Twelve days had passed, and he was beyond any hope of seeing her again, at least alive. Unless she had amnesia and was in a hospital somewhere, but that couldn't be true because Peter and Winston had sent out posters to every medical center, fire station, and police station in the entire state of new York. If she showed up anywhere, they would know about it.
Which meant she could be....No, he thought, shaking his head. Don't even think that. She'll be found.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He picked it up.
"Hello, Ghostbusters...hello Doris."
From the stairs, four people watched Egon talk on the phone with Janine's sister.
"How long's he been like this?" Aggie asked.
"Like this?" Ray said, his eyes still on Egon. "Since the phone call. But I don't think he's slept in almost a week."
"There has to be something we can do," Aggie said, following the three men back up the stairs. "I don't know what," Winston said. "We've been over both her car, and the crash site. There's no hint of a supernatural force behind this. If it were someone we'd fought in the past, we'd have heard about it by now. It's like she's just disappeared without a trace."
"We'll find her," Peter insisted, sitting back down in the chair he'd abandoned, when he heard the phone ring, and picking up a huge, old book. "She's out there somewhere. And we'll find her. She couldn't have just disappeared into nothingness. She has to be somewhere."
In the past, waking up in the middle of the night usually meant he was tired of his mistresses. The next evening, they would end up in Michael's bed, and if they survived that, when he grew tired of them, they weren't long for this world.
Looking at the sleeping woman in the bed now, he knew this wasn't the case. Janine intrigued him like no other woman had. She was well read, and could write. She was a fast learner, and came to him with a basic knowledge of the occult. The fact that she had enough courage to even stare Michael down, was only an added bonus.
The study in question, stirred slightly, then sat up, clutching the blanket around her body.
"Christopher?" she called out softly. Smiling in the dark, he walked back over to the bed.
"Yes Janine?" he said softly, by her ear. She yelped, turning to him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing my dear. Only a small bout of insomnia." He felt her lips brush his shoulder. "Come back to bed," she purred. "I have just the cure."
"Have you no shame, woman?" he teased, sliding back into bed beside her. He felt her smile, as she slid up next to him. "Not in the middle of the night," she told him.
No, he decided, he hadn't gotten tired of her at all.