A Tale Of Two Blades Chapter 34, a tv x-overs fanfic

Author's Note: Italics signify thought or emphasis.

Violence Warning: You've been warned!

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"Don't say anything," Sara snapped, indicating the approaching police vehicles.

Sara moved away from Jake and approached the witnesses. In a way, she was ecstatic that she would finally have proof to put Irons away, but she couldn't let the witnesses tell all they knew yet.

The White Bulls would be sure to protect their benefactor the moment they realized Sara was going after him, and Irons wouldn't go down without taking Nottingham and Lilianna with him. And if he thought leaving the country would help maintain power and control, Sara knew Irons would do that, too. Sara couldn't allow any of those possibilities.

There were eight witnesses, and Sara wasn't sure whether or not it had anything to do with the Witchblade's influence, but they all quickly agreed to claim they feared for their lives and were unwilling at this time to identify the kidnapper. The fact that Kenneth Irons was well known as a ruthless and powerful businessman probably made it true for most of them.

All but one of them agreed to later come forward if Sara could promise protection. Now all she had to worry about was Jake saying something. She made it back to his side just as the arriving law enforcement began departing their vehicles.

He opened his mouth, but Sara held up one hand in a not-right-now-it's-my-turn gesture. Jake scowled but closed his mouth.

"I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know when this is over," Sara said quickly, "but we can't give any details about what happened. I have to save Lily and Nottingham myself."

"Two conditions," Jake responded.

Sara's eyebrows rose.

"First, you have to tell me everything before you go after Irons."

"And second?"

"You have to let me help you."

Sara frowned, but Jake added, "I will tell them everything I saw Sara; I'm sick of being left out."

"Fine," Sara answered tiredly. "But not a word about Irons or the identity of the kidnappees."

Jake nodded and the partners squared their shoulders in preparation for dealing with their fellow law enforcement agents. An hour later they were at the precinct being grilled by Dante, Siri and the Special Crimes Captain. Not only was what had happened a kidnapping, but some heavy firepower had been used, making it an obviously organized event. Sara and Jake were questioned, threatened and cajoled, but they stuck to the story of needing to protect their witnesses from the party behind the attack.

It was four and a half hours after the time Sara had originally been scheduled to meet Lilianna and Nottingham when Jake and Sara were finally let out of the precinct, both of them on suspension without pay for two days due to their lack of cooperation. Thankfully, not a single one of the witnesses had mentioned anything about Jake's FBI badge, so his cover hadn't been blown.

Although she was beyond anxious to go after Irons and get her daughter back, Sara allowed Jake to drive her back to their apartment so they could have their discussion.

"Well?" he asked when they had been inside for less than a minute.

Not having the time or the patience to beat around the bush, Sara activated the Witchblade to full form, gauntlet and Blade. Jake's eyes threatened to fall out and roll across the floor, and he reached out hesitantly to touch the weapon.

"This is the Witchblade," Sara began. "It is an ancient, sentient weapon that chooses a Wielder when it is needed. My grandmother was also a Wielder during World War II, and in the future my daughter will be. Lilianna is that daughter, our daughter. Apparently things went to hell in a hand basket, and Lilianna came back through time to stop it."

Jake's eyes fell to Sara's abdomen and he choked out, "Angel… Lilianna, whoever she is, she's the baby inside you right now?"

Sara nodded and continued. "Irons is older than he looks and his main obsession in life is regaining control of the Witchblade. He wore it once a long time ago and it rejected him."

"Why?"

"It's only supposed to work for women of a certain bloodline."

"Then what was it that Nottingham had?"

Sara sighed, "That's why I said 'supposed to'. I don't know how he Wielded it, maybe because he loves Lilianna and it knows that."

"Our daughter is not going to be with an assassin," Jake huffed.

Though she was glad, and shocked, that Jake was taking all of this so well, Sara couldn't help but snap back, "Our daughter is an assassin too. Neither one of them had a choice, it was how they were raised."

Jake ran a hand through his hair, the dark blonde strands going every which way – and not in the artful disaaray it took Jake half an hour every morning to concoct. "Why would we raise her to be an assassin? Is the future that bad?"

"We didn't raise her. Irons killed you and took her from me. Years later I died trying to free her," Sara said bluntly.

Jake's eyes closed and he let out a heavy breath. When he looked up at her again, his eyes held a dazed expression.

"If I hadn't seen that thing…"

"I know, Jake."

"And even though I did, I still…"

"I know, Jake," Sara cut him off again. She didn't have time to deal with him going into shock and denial. "If you're going to help me get our daughter back, we need to go now."

Jake nodded and followed when Sara left the apartment.

He asked only one more question as they reached the car, "Is that thing how you knew I was a Federal agent?"

Sara nodded. She couldn't truly let herself think about that too much, it still hurt to know that even though Jake loved her, he might never have told her what he was really doing in New York. He still might not.

They went to Irons' home first since Sara figured the billionaire would want privacy for whatever he planned to do to Lilianna and Nottingham. They wasted an hour driving out to his mansion and then back downtown.

The servants had not stopped Sara and Jake from entering the mansion, and it had only taken a few minutes, thanks to the Witchblade, for Sara to be sure Irons and his captives weren't there. That left the Vorschlag building to check before she'd have to start digging into Irons' other holdings.

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To Lilianna's surprise, she woke to find herself still in Witchblade armor. She had been so sure that Irons would find some way, even if he had to kill or maim her, to get it off. Unfortunately, there were neuro-cuffs around her wrists that prevented her from communicating with or controlling the Blade. She experimentally tried to move, finding that though she could move a couple feet in either direction, she was chained to the wall. Lilianna sat up and looked around the room.

The room was an enormous one with metal walls. There were rings and hooks in the walls and hanging from the ceiling, different ways to restrain or torture captives. Lilianna shivered. She was familiar with several of them, and she was sure her husband was intimately acquainted with each and every one. There were also drains in the floor and a hose against one wall, for when things got 'messy', she knew.

Christian was in one of the far corners of the room, still unconscious. Lilianna's heart clenched when she saw that his Witchblade ring was gone, his left hand now bare.

Would Irons be able to control a male Wielder's Blade?

Looking at her Witchblade armor again, Lilianna noticed that it had changed slightly again, the chain mail skirt heavier though it remained only long enough to cover halfway down her thighs. The metal plating that encased her hips had also changed, covering more than usual, protecting her up past her belly button a few inches.

The babies, she realized. The Witchblade was trying to protect them from whatever it was Irons was going to do to her. She could only pray that it would work.

It was only moments later that Irons walked into the room, a decidedly superior smirk on his face. Lilianna would have given anything to be able to permanently wipe that look off his face, but in the next second she remembered Susanna.

Susanna who had done nothing but help Lilianna and Christian despite her history with Sara. Susanna who loved her father and didn't want him to be killed.

Lilianna sighed quietly. She had no idea how they were going to get out of this without that happening. Even if she and Christian were able to somehow escape Irons' clutches, how would they ever talk Sara out of inflicting severe bodily harm to Irons?

"Good to see you're awake," Irons said coldly. "I wasn't sure how long you'd be out considering how many traquilizers you were hit with."

Lilianna glared at Irons, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out at him. There was something about the billionaire that always made her feel like a petulant child.

He continued as if he hadn't noticed her look of hatred. "Both you and Nottingham will be greater weapons for me than he ever could have been alone, and Sara will soon follow."

Lilianna snorted and this time Irons didn't ignore her. He walked right up to her and punched her in the jaw, hard. Lilianna tasted blood and snarled at him. Which of course just made him hit her again, this time with his open palm to her cheek. Lilianna willed herself not to react.

"Better," Irons sneered.

A muffled groan was heard from across the room and Irons straightened, smiling coldly. Lilianna's eyes moved to where Christian was moving, standing up and hanging his head when he realized his Witchblade was gone. It suddenly became much harder to breathe when Lilianna realized that he would take the brunt of the punishment. Christian was the one to go against his training; she had never obeyed hers in the first place, though Irons shouldn't actually know that.

Christian didn't even flinch when Irons struck him. Irons pulled back his arm to deliver another blow when Lilianna heard the ringing of a cell phone. Irons stepped away from Christian and pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"Do you have the book yet?" he barked into the device.

He listened for several seconds and then pulled the phone away from his ear to glare at Christian.

"Why isn't the elevator in your building working, why is there a jaguar with a gold collar standing on your balcony and why the bloody hell is there a force field stopping my men from entering your loft?"

Lilianna bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Not an ordinary cat indeed.

"My best guess would be that Bast is protecting what's mine and Lilianna's," Christian answered tightly.

"Bast?" Irons echoed, his eyes narrowing.

"Our cat," Lilianna answered.

Irons pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He turned his attention to Lilianna.

"And how did you manage to get a magical jungle cat into the building without anyone knowing?"

"I found her while tailing Lady Sara. She came home in my coat," Christian responded.

"In your..." Irons broke off and released a heavy breath through his nose. He lifted the phone back to his ear. "Shoot it."

Lilianna was unconcerned for Bast. If the cat had magic enough to erect a forcefield and change shape, it surely had nothing to fear from bullets. Instead, as Irons waited for word from his men, Lilianna met Christian's gaze across the room. With her eyes, she implored him to remember what she had promised him, that she wouldn't leave him, even if he couldn't leave Irons.

Catherine appeared next to her, a sad expression on her pale face. "He knows, dear. Stay strong for him, and he'll stay strong for you."

Lilianna nodded and moved her gaze back to Christian, smiling lovingly at him. He smiled back, and even from that distance Lilianna could feel that he had calmed somewhat. It had always surprised her how strongly they could sense what the other was feeling, but perhaps it was part of being married by the Blade. A marriage such as theirs hadn't happened with anyone else since the time of the Witchblade tribe. And she had no way to know how common it had been back then or what it had entailed. Perhaps she could ask Akantha the next time they spoke.

No matter what else happened, she would not leave him. The only exception to that was if they were still under Irons' thumb when the twins were born. She would leave just before they were born and come back when she knew they were safe. Even if she had to return to living under Irons' control to stay with her husband, Lilianna would not allow her children to be raised by him.

Her own life was with Christian, or it wasn't worth living. But her children would be free, no matter what.

Catherine disappeared. Lilianna was sure it was because the woman had no desire to see her son tortured.

"Fine," Irons said into the phone with deadly calm. "Just come back here then."

Casting a calculating look at Lilianna, Irons turned toward Christian. He couldn't lie.

"What have you learned from the book you took from the house?"

"Nothing," Christian replied honestly. Just so Irons would stop asking questions, he added, "We weren't able to decipher it."

At that, Irons did turn to Lilianna. "Your file says one of your areas of expertise is languages."

Not sure if he would take it out on her or on Christian if she lied and disappointed that Marcus had indeed told Irons about her before he died, Lilianna answered softly, "It is, but the text is not only written in another language, it must be in code, because it's just gibberish when you translate it straight into English."

"Then why keep it from me?"

"Catherine told us to."

Lilianna smiled when Irons paled.

"Catherine... Parker?" he asked.

"My mother prefers Jamison now that she's dead," Christian said. "Happily, she's no longer married to that monster who works for you."

"Enough," Irons barked. "Both of you will show me respect if I have to beat it into you. Once you are as obedient as you should be, you will give me all the answers I want."

Christian bowed his head, and Lilianna looked away so Irons wouldn't see her anger and defiance. Why make it any harder on any of them than he was about to?

"Stay there," he ordered Christian.

Irons left the room for a few minutes, coming back with a cart of familiar torture devices. Lilianna shrank into herself at the sight of the cat o' nine tails. Even though it had been more than a decade since he had used it on her, she could recall the ripping, burning pain as if it were moments ago.

She had to bite her tongue to stop from whimpering when he picked up the very thing she feared most. Lilianna's fear didn't lessen when Irons moved toward Christian instead of her. It was her fault the man she loved was about to be hurt.

Christian flinched slightly when the first lash hit, shredding his shirt. A single tear ran down Lilianna's face. Irons glanced back at her before turning back to Christian.

"Take off the shirt."

Lilianna felt sick when the material of the shirt tugged at the newly raw wounds Irons had just inflicted. But Christian simply tossed the shirt aside and returned to submissive position to await further blows.

"Move to the center of the room."

Christian head snapped up at the latest order, his eyes locking on Lilianna's. The knowledge that Irons wanted them to see every detail of each other's suffering flowed between them. The tears started flowing more freely down Lilianna's face when he was close enough for her to see the blood seeping from the angry wounds on his chest.

The next blow was a surprise one to his back, and Christian hissed and stumbled slightly, his eyes remaining locked on Lilianna's. She wiped the tears from her face and her eyes softened, trying to tell him without words that she was here and she wasn't leaving, no matter how much Irons tried to hurt them.

After six more strokes to his front, Christian hit his knees. His torso was covered in blood, and his eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Every time the multi-strand, razor-tipped weapon struck flesh, again on his back as it was the easiest to reach in his forward-leaning position, Christian had trouble catching his breath. His pain threshold had been breached some time ago.

Lilianna knew that the only reason he didn't cry out was because he was trying his hardest to stay strong for her. The occasional hiss or grunt was all he allowed to escape. But Lilianna could see it was only a matter of minutes before he passed out from the effort and the pain.

"Stop," she pled softly.

Irons heard her and stilled his hand. He moved to study Christian for a moment, an evil grin contorting his face. He moved to the cart and put the blood-splattered cat o' nine tails down. Instead he picked up what looked like a riding crop, only instead of a loop of leather at the end, there was a wicked looking blade.

He came close to her and commanded, "Stand up, back to the wall."

Lilianna did as she was told, wrapping her hands around the chains attached to her wrists to keep from reaching for Irons' throat. It was difficult not to when he crowded in close to her.

"I orginally planned for your mother's place to be by my side and in my bed." He lifted his empty left hand to cup her face. It took all Lilianna had not to spit in his face, especially at his next words. It was only the thought of what he'd do to Christian that stopped her. "Maybe that should be your honor instead."

"Never," she swore.

He smiled coldly. "I didn't think so."

He stepped back two paces and let his latest weapon fly. Lilianna cried as the cold metal ripped into her arm. The next three hits struck her legs, and tears of pain blinded her momentarily. She screamed when the steel bit into her face high on her cheek.

Irons whirled when a roar of rage sounded behind him. Lilianna blinked the tears from her eyes to stare in awe as Christian was engulfed in intense light. The light expanded and when it disappated, there was a huge, beautiful creature filling most of the room. He was long, probably just shy of one hundred feet including his tail, and tall enough for his wings to brush the ceiling two and a half floors above them. It was impossible to tell wingspan with his wings folded, but Lilianna was willing to bet it was over sixty feet. The Dragon's body, head and wings were black and his underbelly and eyes were moss green. Her husband's eyes.

"Christian," she breathed in wonder.

"Now you know why the Super Soldier project was renamed the Black Dragons," Irons said beside her. "They were named after him. It's only the second time he's transformed since he was born. I made him forget the first time. Do you really think a creature like that is worthy of your affection?"

Dragon-Christian's eyes were sad, and his great head lowered until it was almost touching the ground. How dare Irons make him doubt his own worth just because he was, at least in part, a mystical being?

"Oh, yes," she answered Irons. And because Dragon-Christian heard her and lifted his head proudly to look down on her, and thanks to Mara's knowledge, Lilianna added, "This explains the depth of our connection. It has nothing to do with the Witchblade; we were mated the first time we kissed in that club."

Irons made a sound of frustration and lashed out with the blade-tipped crop once more, striking her other arm. She flinched but didn't make any sound, too busy admiring her husband's second form.

The door opened and a man Lilianna had never seen before entered the room.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Irons asked.

"The two detectives have left the mansion and are on their way here, sir."

"Both of them?" Irons frowned.

"Yes, sir."

Irons sighed and returned his torture device to the cart. He headed for the door.

At the last second, he said, "Knock her out again. And prepare Nottingham to be restrained but mobile when he returns to himself."

"Yes, sir," the man Irons had called Lieutenant replied.

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Jake only a step behind her, Sara walked down the long, sterile hall to where Irons' secretary sat. The dark-haired woman lifted her head. She smiled professionally, the gesture not reaching her eyes, and opened her mouth.

Sara cocked an eyebrow and held up a hand, "He's expecting me, right?"

"That's right, Detective."

The woman went back to her typing. Sara and Jake walked into Irons' massive office. The white-haired man was facing one of his full-length windows, studying something in his hand.

"Where is she?" Sara asked without preamble.

She was sick of playing nice and being polite to the cold-hearted bastard. Irons turned slowly and studied her for a second. As always, his gaze lingered longest on the Witchblade. Sara yanked it off her wrist and held it out toward him.

"Give her to me and you can have it."

"And why would I do that?"

He looked bored, as usual, and Sara desperately wanted to grind his face into the expensive Oriental rug that covered a portion of the floor.

She kept her voice steady through sheer force of will, knowing that showing her anxiety would only place her at his mercy, "Because kidnapping is a felony and I have witnesses. Because we both know you want the Witchblade, and it's only ever made my life more difficult."

"Now, now, Sara," Irons mocked, "You and I both know that I cannot wield the Witchblade…"

"Only a woman from the chosen bloodline, blah, blah, blah. So you keep saying. But you also said there was only one Witchblade, and we both know she has one." Sara decided to play her trump card; she wanted her daughter back now, "And I saw Nottingham wield it."

Irons' eyes snapped at this and he stalked over to his desk.

Pressing an intercom button, he barked, "Bring them in."

Irons looked at Jake as if he were something stuck to his shoe.

"Why is he here?"

"Because he is Lilianna's father, you pompous asshole." Jake bit off as he took a step forward, but Sara held out a blocking arm.

She didn't want to have to rescue him too, and as competent an FBI agent as he was, he had no mystical powers. He barely believed in them. And that was an exceedingly dangerous belief to have around Irons.

Irons simply smirked at Jake and then ignored him.

A minute later a hidden door opened and eight heavily armed men escorted Nottingham and Lilianna in. Lilianna was unconscious and in her version of full Witchblade armor. She was also chained, the chains held by four of the men. As they drew closer, Sara could see that her daughter was hurt. There was a trail of blood from one corner of her mouth and several wicked looking cuts on her arms, face and legs. Sara's blood boiled but she remained still and kept a calming hand on Jake's arm, not wanting any more harm to come to Lilianna.

Nottingham was strapped to a hand-truck type device that was used in movie scenes showing prison guards transporting "psychotic killers". The thing that surprised Sara was that he was wearing only a pair of pants. His head, torso and feet were bare, showing off his toned body, as well as the scars, and several new wounds, that crisscrossed almost all of his flesh. She had never before seen him without layers upon layers of clothes on. Where had the scars come from? Some of them looked very old.

"Holy shit," she heard Jake mutter.

She completely agreed.

"Release him," Irons ordered.

Two of the men undid the restraints on the trolley and Nottingham took a running step toward Lilianna.

"Nottingham, stop."

Nottingham jerked in place and turned to glare at Irons, hatred burning in his eyes and showing in every inch of his face. Irons calmly walked over to Nottingham and held up his hand. In the palm was a man's ring, a silver dragon that was very detailed and rich, though something seemed to be missing from it. Sara felt as if she had seen it somewhere before.

Irons asked, "What is this?"

"My ring," Nottingham ground out between clenched teeth.

"And where did you get it?"

Nottingham made a grab for the piece of jewelry, but Irons easily kept it out of reach and stepped back a few paces.

Nottingham's broad shoulders slumped further, "My wife gave it to me."

Sara's mouth dropped open. She knew he could not lie when Irons asked him a direct question. He was married and he was still messing around with her daughter? She'd kill him. But Irons had motioned for two of his men to train their machine guns on her, one pointing at her head and the other at her knees. A third kept Jake in his sights. Sara stayed in place. She'd kill Nottingham when the men let their guards down.

Irons continued, "So the two of you have had benefit of clergy, then?"

He gestured to Lilianna and Nottingham, and Sara frowned. She had obviously missed something.

Nottingham hissed, "Neither of us had the time to prepare for a church wedding and you know it. We were legally married at City Hall yesterday, but we were already bound for eternity in our hearts and souls."

Sara felt struck. Her daughter had gotten married without her there? Did she mean so little to Lilianna? Maria stood beside her and shook her head before disappearing. Sara acknowledged what the Blade told her: Lilianna didn't want Sara to be there unless Jake could be there, too. Sara's refusal to tell Jake the truth had prevented that; Lilianna didn't want Jake there unless it was as her father.

"Touching, I'm sure." Irons walked over to his throne-chair by the fireplace and sat. Looking much like a dictator lording over his subjects, his gaze swept them all before settling on Lilianna. "Wake Sleeping Beauty."

One of the guards shook Lilianna's shoulder, which was bare except for the tiniest strap of her Witchblade armor. She jerked away from the touch and lifted her head. Her gaze flew wildly about the room and Sara saw her sigh with relief when she spotted Nottingham. Then her gaze settled on Irons and her eyes blazed blue fire. She muttered something beneath her breath and the ring in Irons' clutches flew from his grasp and found it's way on to Nottingham's outstretched left hand. It settled on his ring finger and a translucent red, pulsing stone appeared clutched in the dragon's claws.

Nottingham's ring was a Witchblade! That was how he had wielded a Witchblade when Lilianna had still had hers on. But where had he gotten his own? Unless it was a piece of Lilianna's.

Irons' voice echoed in the room, "Well, well, the male Wielder, I never really believed..."

Irons stopped cold.

"Now what?" Sara demanded of Irons.

He smirked at her, "Now I kill your daughter and this treasonous, disloyal dog."