--Out Comes the Evil--
"Miranda! I was starting to think you weren't coming back!," Seth exclaimed taking the dirt caked woman into his arms. "What the hell happened!?"
"Kirin followed the kid back to his house boat. We ended up in a bit of a scuffle, " she replied.
"A bit? You've been gone two days and look like something out of 'Attack of the Mud People'," he joked.
"Ha ha," she sneered, picking dried mud off of her torn clothes, leaving a trail of dirty clumps behind her as she walked from the front door to the bathroom.
"What about Ryan?" Seth asked.
"He got away. I couldn't find the sword. I need the kid alive so he can tell me where he's hidden it. Looking for it on our own will take too long, if we could find it at all," she answered.
Seth nodded thoughtfully, "I agree. And Kirin?"
"Knocked into the river when I threw a motorcycle at him. I don't know where he went after that," comfortable with Seth's presence, she stripped her ruined clothes off and turned on the shower. "I was losing the fight, badly," she winced as she inspected a gouge that hadn't fully healed yet. "If I didn't get out of there he probably would have dusted me. Why do you think it took me so long to get back here? I found an abandoned house and rested there. The injuries were so bad, I didn't wake up until about three hours ago."
"Shit. Wait...so where did all the mud come from?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to imagine how she got so dirty if they were fighting in a house boat or on the dock.
"Battery died in the car and in my phone. Had to walk home, and..." she sighed, slightly embarrassed, "a car ran through a mud puddle and I got soaked."
Seth lowered his head and snickered.
"It's not funny!" Miranda snapped.
"Yes it is," Seth answered, and laughed his way out of the bathroom.
Miranda stepped into the hot shower. The water stung her skin, but was relaxing as well. She had lost a lot of time, sleeping the past two days away. She would be lucky if she could catch up with young Mr. Ryan now. She shook her head. It never occurred to her that getting her property back would be so difficult. After all, he was just a punk kid and she was...well, what she was. The thought did dawn on her that he was not normal. Most people don't carry swords around with them, yet he had one strapped to his motorcycle. Maybe he just likes swords she thought. No...there was something more. The other woman, outside the bar. He reacted to her so oddly, as if she were the threat, and not Miranda. Too familiar...disturbing. Then there was the strange man that shot them both, yet he seemed fine back on the barge. I wonder she said to herself as she dried her hair and put on her cherry blossom print black silk robe.
From her bedroom she heard the doorbell. She quickly finished dressing and went out to the parlor to see what was going on.
"You're not welcome here!" Seth snarled to the tall, dark haired man standing just outside the doorway. "Leave and I won't kill you," he growled.
"My business is not with you Seth. I need to speak with my sister," the man answered.
"Who is there, Seth?" Miranda called as she came around the corner. She gasped when she saw him, standing there arms crossed, glaring at her friend. "Methos..." she whispered.
"Mana. How nice to see you again," Methos greeted coldly.
She stepped closer, stopping just behind Seth's left shoulder.
"What are you doing here?" she asked without emotion.
"I'm looking for someone and I believe you know where I can find him," Methos replied.
"Really? And why is that?" she snapped.
Methos calmly pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to her. "Oh, no reason," he said sarcastically.
She opened the envelope and looked at the four glossy photographs inside. "Where did these come from?" she asked angrily, still staring at the last picture, clearly showing her at the scene of the other night's events at Le Blues Bar.
"That's not important. I want to know what you've done with Richie," he said in a steady but clearly angry tone. He unfolded his arms and stepped closer to the pair.
Her head snapped up and her icy blue eyes met his, "I've done nothing to your friend!" she nearly yelled, insulted at the accusation. "I don't know where he is. Now, if that is all you came for, I expect you will be leaving. Now." she snarled.
He moved as fast as his body would carry him, pushed Seth out of the way and grabbed Miranda by the throat, pushing her against the wall. As her head met the plaster, Methos pulled a sharpened wooden rod from his other coat pocket and pressed it against her chest, perfectly in line with her heart. He pushed it in slowly, stopping just as it broke her skin. Miranda hissed, her sharp canine teeth became elongated, more on the top than the bottom. Her cool blue eyes shone red with anger.
"Ah, there's my little devil," Methos smiled. "Now, tell me what you want with Richie and where he is, or I will drive this thing into that shriveled little heart of yours," he demanded, his voice sinister and in some small way evil. His voice taking on a deadly timbre.
Seth stood up fast and grabbed Methos' arm, broke it in three places and slammed him against the opposite wall. He stalked toward Methos, who was gritting his teeth, holding his limp arm against his chest. He had dropped the stake when the man broke his ulna and elbow.
"Not too bright, are you, meat," Seth taunted, his own fangs bared. He kicked the old Immortal hard in the stomach. Methos lurched forward and spat out a big glob of blood.
"Now there's an idea," Seth said cheerfully. He pulled Methos to him and yanked his head to the side. Methos struggled and yelled as Seth bit down hard on his neck, fangs stinging as they sank deep into the Immortal's flesh. Hot blood rushed into Seth's mouth, down his throat as he swallowed the salty, metallic fluid gulp after gulp. It was sweeter than normal blood. It almost tingled and a strange euphoria washed over him. He stopped well before he normally would have, his head spinning. It felt like electricity was coursing through every nerve, painful but addictive, it was as if pure energy filled him. Methos dropped to the floor like a rag doll, but still conscious. Seth sank to his knees, mouth agape, moaning in ecstasy. Miranda, her fangs put away and her eyes back to their arctic hue, approached both of them and shook her head.
"Idiot," she huffed. She picked Methos up under his arms, effortlessly, as if he were no more cumbersome than a child, and all but carried him to the living room. She pulled his coat off of him and lay him on the red sofa. The wounds on his neck had already healed. She pulled his long sword out from the lining of his duster and leaned it against the wall.
"Now then, brother,"she spoke as she rolled him on his side. She pulled handcuffs out of the side table drawer, which were used rarely but had proven themselves useful before, and secured his wrists together behind him. "I'll make you a deal. You tell me what you know about Mr. Ryan and I will consider letting him live after he has served his purpose. After all, any friend of yours..." she smiled viciously, but only for a moment.
Miranda's face relaxed, the corners of her mouth drooped into a frown. How she wished they could put the past behind them, where it belonged. She stroked his hair, softly, anger subsiding for the moment. She was still angry at her brother for many things, not the least of which was trying to put a stake through her heart the last time they saw each other. But she knew, he had every reason to despise her, after what she had done.
–Flashback...Spain 1635 AD–
"Mana, I insist that you come to the wedding," Methos said, firmly to his sister, holding her delicate hands in his.
Mana sighed and shook her head. "You know I don't do well at social functions...especially with mortals."
"You are the only family that I have. The only family I can even remember having. Real family, anyway," Methos tilted his head. "It would also mean a lot to Sarah if you attended," he said, referring to his fiancee.
"I don't think it's a good idea," the woman insisted.
"Nonsense," he smiled.
It had been a very long time since she had seen her brother genuinely happy. She didn't want to risk what he had found with Sarah. They both knew the risks of putting Mana in the middle of a group of mortals. Every second of her 'life', she fought for control, the beast inside of her always lusting for the kill. She was old, even by Vampiric standards, and rarely lost that control. But it was not unheard of, and the more people were around the harder it was.
Methos adored his sister, and she loved him, but there was no denying there was a growing rift between them. The more active in mortal affairs he became, the farther away she stayed. Methos had done away with his murderous ways long ago. Mana was incapable of such a change. She was a killer, through and through. Every muscle in her body, every ability bestowed upon her by her wicked blood, was designed for that one thing. Each night when she awoke, the first thought on her mind was to hunt, to kill, to drink the salty-sweet blood from her prey. Each day when she went to sleep, her last thought was the same. Maintaining a normal life was relatively easy for him, and nearly impossible for her. Many times she had tried to cut all ties with her brother, as much for his safety as her own sanity. But she found that he was a stubborn old mule and simply would not allow such a thing. He didn't remember his life before he won his first Quickening, she did. Most Immortals had no one left from their original lifetime, he did. He loved her, as every brother loves their sibling. That was not something he was willing to just let go of, regardless of how difficult maintaining the relationship was.
She decided that after the wedding, she would stay away for a while, let him have his normal life for at least a few years until his beloved bride eventually withered away and turned to dust, as all mortals are destined to do. "Fine...I'll go," she finally conceded.
Methos hugged her tight, "Thank you," he whispered in her ear.
Two days later, the wedding guests were arriving steadily at the Cathedral in the center of Madrid. Fortunately thick clouds masked the sun, enough for Mana to safely venture out for a few hours. Most of the service would be indoors, extending the amount of time she could be active during the day. There were at least 200 guests in attendance, dressed in fine silks and taffeta. She stayed in the back of the Cathedral, trying not to make too much contact with the humans. Hunger stirred inside of her regardless, hunger that she forced down to the pit of her stomach.
"Elena," the father of the bride nodded to Mana, calling her by her most recent name. He dipped his knee down slightly and kissed her hand. "I was so happy when Michael told us you would be in attendance," the grey haired man smiled.
"What sort of sister would I be not to see my brother off," she feigned sincerity. "Your daughter is a lovely woman and I am certain they will be a fine pair."
"You are too kind madame," he bowed. "If you will excuse me," he bowed again and turned to greet the other guests, many who were Lords and Ladies of the Royal Spanish Court.
A while later, the guests all rose from the pews as the organ player began a wedding march. Methos wrung his hands nervously as he stood at the altar. The entire congregation was awed when Sarah appeared from the rear of the church, her arm interlocked with her father's. Each step was smooth and graceful. Even Mana was struck by the girl's grace and beauty. Sarah reached the altar and Methos took her small hands into his. The service was long, as most Catholic services were, but as they kissed their first kiss as husband and wife, the entire church exploded in applause and cheers, and even joyful tears. The clouds outside had broken and sunlight filtered through the stained glass, as if the sun itself was celebrating the union along with them. Mana pressed herself into the shadows, dreading the next few moments when she knew the huge oak doors would swing open and pure, deadly sunlight would fill the Cathedral. She shot a nervous glance to her brother, but he was swept up in the event, laughing, holding his new wife around the waist with one arm they strode quickly toward the doors. Mana tried to back into the darkest corner, but the wedding guests flowed like ocean tides and pushed her toward the aisle. Sarah's father hurried to her and grabbed Mana's hand.
"Come dear, don't be so shy! It is time to celebrate!" he shouted, taking the vampire around her waist and swinging her even closer to the doors, just as they burst open and unfiltered sunlight flooded the church.
Everyone stopped when Mana let out a paralyzing scream, smoke rising from her exposed face and hands. She shot backward and scrambled to cover herself with her cloak. Methos gasped and turned to her. "Oh...no...Elena!" he rushed to her side, taking her hood and quickly covering her head.
"God...I'm sorry..." he breathed. "Are you alright," he said, tending to his sister, not thinking about the horrified faces of the wedding guests and what they must be thinking.
"What is this!?" the priest shouted, pushing his way through the crowd. "What sort of demon are you to be burned by the sun?"
"She's a witch!" one woman yelled.
"No, no!" another added, "She's a devil!"
"No," the priest finally said, looking down at the smoldering form. "This thing....I have heard of it before, from missionaries in Wallachia. It is a vampire!" he announced.
Methos groaned in frustration. How are we getting you out of this mess? he thought. Both of their heads came up as the sound of multiple swords being pulled from their scabbards echoed from the walls.
"Did you know about this, Michael?" Sarah's father asked firmly. When he didn't answer, he asked again loudly, "DID YOU KNOW??"
Methos stood and looked defiantly into his father-in-law's eyes. "She is my sister, and I love her. Yes. I knew."
The older man stepped back and put the tip of his sword to Methos' chest.
"Father no!" Sarah screamed, running to her husband's side.
"This is no man!" her father shouted. "If his sister be a 'vampire', then he surely must also be some kind of demon!"
"I don't care!" Sarah shouted in return. "He is MY husband and you will not harm him!"
Sarah's two brothers ripped her away from Methos. She kicked and screamed as Methos was surrounded by sword armed men and lead out of the church, his sister pulled behind.
"Get away from me!" Mana screamed, sunlight again touched her hands, burning them badly. She flew back into the church, eyes bright red, fangs bared and growling. Her fingernails grew into sharp claws and she stood feet apart, ready to strike at anyone who came near.
Eight men rushed at her, slashing her as each one closed in. She hissed with each slice through her flesh, batting the men away like flies. Each strike pushed her closer to the edge of her control. She fought hard to maintain her composure, to suppress the monster within. More men joined the battle, more men were thrown against a wall or toppled over the pews. One of the younger men crept up behind her and pushed a dagger deep into her back. In her mind, there was an audible snap as the last vestiges of her humanity was devoured by the inner beast. Mana let out an unholy roar as she took the offensive, grabbing people by head and burying her face in neck after neck. The endless barrage of blades against her skin and bones went unnoticed while she was in her fit of rage. Methos stood in the doorway of the Cathedral, stunned, horrified, held still by two of the congregation also watching helplessly as the groom's sister ripped people apart. Sarah cried, having dropped to the floor screaming when she saw her brother's head roll under one of the long benches.
The rest of the wedding guests fled the church into the safety of the bright sunlight. Only Sarah and her father remained inside, alive. Mana panted, blood dripped from her mouth and hands. Sarah's sobs caught the monster's attention and she darted to the frightened bride, looking down on her, still hungry.
"You stay back, demon!" her father yelled, his own sword at the ready.
Mana tilted her head to the side, as if studying him as a wolf studies and injured lamb before it strikes. The enraged man drove his rapier deep into the vampire's stomach, almost to the hilt. Mana snarled and grabbed his hand, pulling him close to her. Her hand shot out like lightening and dug deep into his chest. When she pulled her hand back out, his still beating heart rested in her bloody palm. The man dropped to the floor, eyes wide with terror and shock. Mana pulled the sword from her belly and sank her fangs into the warm organ.
"Father!" Sarah screamed, scrambling to his lifeless corpse.
"Sarah no! Get out of there!" Methos screamed. Too late.
Mana smiled down at the sobbing girl. She reached her sticky, blood stained hand down and grabbed the bride by her hair. Methos struggled with the two men, finally able to break free of them. He ran to the women, "Stop!" he pleaded.
Mana took the girl in her arms and leapt into the rafters. Sarah screamed for her husband to help her. The vampire bared her fangs in a satanic smile and dug them into the girls neck.
"NO!" Methos screamed, unable to help his beloved wife.
The drained, lifeless corpse fell from the rafters and hit the marble floors with a horrible crack, the girls eyes were still open, seemingly filled with tears of blood. Methos sank to the floor, crying, wishing it all to be a terrible dream. Devilish laughter echoed through the empty church. He could hear his sister leaping from beam to beam in the rafters, probably seeking a suitable resting place for the remainder of the day, now that she'd had her fill. Sorrow quickly turned to blind rage inside the ancient Immortal. He tilted his head back an screamed an ancient war cry. His pulse raced, his muscles tightened. Compassion for his sister's situation was shattered by his anger, his hatred, of the creature that destroyed everything he cared for. His wife was dead, and his sister may be lost forever, destroyed by the horror that was her true vampiric nature. He swore revenge for both losses that day.
–end flashback–
Methos moaned, closed his eyes and slipped quietly into a coma. Seth took more than enough blood to cause the Immortal's body to shut down. Now, they all had but to wait until his body healed. Miranda lowered her head and cried pink blood-tinged tears. Looking down on her brother's flawless face, all the walls she had built up came crashing down. Centuries of regret finally caught up to her.
Outside, Adam Pierson's Watcher wrote frantically in his journal and called his friend, Joe Dawson, even though he knew if the Council found out that not only was he communicating classified information to Dawson but withholding information from them, he would be severely punished. It didn't matter to him, though. Joe was his mentor, and he would break any rule, or all of them, for Joe.