A Family Affair
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing. Enjoy!
Chapter 48.
Silently, Ian entered the garage apartment. He heard the toilet flush, followed by water running. A moment later, the bathroom door opened, and Sara came out. She smiled when she spotted him standing in the middle of the living room, and Ian's heart contracted in his chest as he realized that one of his dearest wishes had come true: The Wielder no longer scowled with dislike and suspicion whenever she set eyes on him.
"Here, let me help you out of your coat and that sling," she offered, crossing the room to him.
"Sara, how do you feel about me?" Ian heard himself ask her.
She froze, her hands on the collar of his coat. "What do you mean?" she stalled after a long, uncomfortable pause, turning away from him to hang up his coat in the closet near the front door.
"I know you care for me as a friend and as your Protector," he said quietly, "but how do you feel about me as a man and possibly the father of your child?"
Sara turned back to him and swiftly undid the buckles on the sling, removing it and tossing it aside. "Ian, are you asking me if I'm in love with you?" she asked him, cutting to the chase as usual.
Ian thought about this for a few moments and then nodded. "Yes, I believe I am."
She hesitated and then began to speak slowly, obviously choosing her words with care. "I'll be honest with you, Ian. I've never been in love, so I'm not sure if what I feel for you is love," she told him. "And I gotta tell you that I'm highly skeptical about the whole 'love at first sight' and 'destined to be together' thing, although I know you believe in that sort of stuff. I think you have to really get to know somebody, warts and all, before you can honestly say you love them.
"That said, here's what I do know: I know that I love making love with you." Sara couldn't help smiling as Ian blushed charmingly. "That's right, you stud, you. Absolutely no worries in that department, even though you're still a rookie and I have yet to teach you what really gets my motor running! Think major tongue action. Ahem, but I digress," she murmured, becoming serious again. "I also know that, for some reason, it feels right that you're the father of this baby I'm convinced I'm carrying." She shook her head. "Sounds crazy, hunh? Especially since if someone had asked me a week ago if I could see myself hooking up with you, I would have told them they needed to have their freakin' head examined! I mean, I thought you were some kind of psycho stalker!"
Shadows darkened Nottingham's extraordinary eyes at her words, and Sara realized that the pain her cruel insults had caused him was still fresh. "I said some really nasty, hurtful things to you, Ian, for which I'm truly sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" She reached up and gently caressed his face.
"There is nothing to forgive, my love," he said, turning his face into her hand in that way he had that made her heart melt.
"I think I might be falling in love with you, Ian Nottingham," she whispered, "and it really scares me. You scare me."
He gave her a sharp look. "You need never fear me, Sara. I would gladly fight to the death for you," he told her.
Sara smiled wanly up at him. "That's partly what scares me about you. You're not just my lover, you're my Protector. You won't hesitate to put yourself in harm's way because I'm the Wielder, and it's your duty to protect me. That frightens me because I know there's very real danger out there from enemies that I've never even met but who want to kill me simply because I wield the Witchblade, and yet you don't seem fazed by this at all. Since we seem to be having a real heart-to-heart here, let me ask you this, Ian: What scares you?" she asked him.
His expression became wary. "What do you mean?"
"It's a simple question. What are you afraid of?"
When he didn't answer, just bowed his head and lowered his gaze, Sara said, "Okay, then I'll go again. I'm scared shitless that you'll go back to Irons."
Ian's head snapped up and he stared at her, myriad emotions flitting through his expressive hazel eyes, but he remained silent.
"You answered my question," she told him.
"Did I?"
"Yeah. It seems we're afraid of the same thing." She cocked her head, piercing green eyes studying his face. "Or did I mistake the terror I saw in your eyes when I said his name?"
He nodded. "Yes, you were mistaken, Sara. Not about the fear, but about what caused it. You see, what I fear most is that you will not understand why it is I must return to Irons, that you will hate me for it, and that I will end up losing you," he said, voice cracking with emotion.
Sara was rendered momentarily speechless by shock. "Oh my God, Ian!" she shouted when she found her voice. "I'm not really hearing this, am I? How can you even consider going back to him after what he did to you?"
"Please, Sara, hear me out," Ian beseeched her. "I will try my best to explain."
"You're damn right I won't understand! Are you forgetting that he ordered you to be injected with a poison that nearly killed you, and, as if that wasn't bad enough, that he sicced a bunch of heavily armed, royally pissed-off Russians on you? Plus, he beats you, Ian! God! Every time I think about those scars on your back, I want to beat Kenny's head in with the Witchblade! What do you think will happen if you go back to him, hunh? Especially once he finds out that we're lovers!" she ranted.
"He already knows we are lovers, Sara," he informed her quietly.
Green eyes widened in surprise. "But how did he --?" Her words broke off when she noticed that the Witchblade's blood-red stone was pulsating agitatedly, reflecting her emotional turmoil. "He sensed it through his link with me, didn't he?" Sara whispered, feeling her gorge rise. "Oh God, I think I'm gonna be sick!" She dashed into the bathroom.
Ian winced sympathetically as he listened to her bring up her dinner. "Mr. Irons will not relinquish control of me without a fight," he said softly, when she came out a few minutes later, face pale and eyes tearing. "I must figure out a way to win my freedom from him that will ensure the safety of . . ." his voice trailed off, and he lowered his eyes again.
"That will ensure whose safety?" Sara prompted him, dragging a trembling hand through her hair. "No, let me guess: my friends and family. Am I right?"
"Yes. In an effort to force me to submit to his will, my master will more than likely threaten to harm all whom you hold dear. He knows all too well that I would do anything to spare you the anguish of losing someone you love. Unfortunately, they would not be idle threats. As you know, Mr. Irons has nearly unlimited wealth at his disposal. He could easily make the deaths of your friends and family look like unfortunate accidents."
"That evil son of a bitch!" Sara said bitterly. "So, when he comes for you, you're just gonna meekly go back to him, is that it?"
Nottingham bared his teeth in a feral smile that sent chills up her spine. "I never said I would go quietly, Sara. Mr. Irons has undoubtedly assembled a retrieval team, but he is wrong if he thinks I will not put up a fight. I intend to return to the estate at a time of my own choosing. However, I cannot wage battle with these men without endangering your family. Much as I regret having to say this, we will have to leave here soon."
"But where will we go?"
"I thought we might return to your loft," Ian told her. "When they discover we are no longer here, that is one of the first places they will look, and I will be waiting for them. Outside in the alley, of course, in order to avoid damaging your abode."
"Uh, yeah, of course. Um, you're still not 100%, Nottingham. Me and the Witchblade can even the odds, or even tip them in your favor," Sara said.
He shook his head. "By the time the attempt to capture me occurs, I will be almost fully recovered. I do not want to risk injury to you," he said. "In all likelihood, Mr. Irons will have authorized the use of deadly force against you if you interfere. You could be seriously hurt or even killed. No, it is too dangerous, my Lady."
"Nottingham, I'm not gonna just stand around while you fight half a dozen or more guys by yourself. You got that?" Sara said firmly. "I can't even begin to claim that I understand the hold Irons has over you, Ian. I know you think of him as your father, but yet you refer to him as your master. When he says 'jump,' you say 'how high?' Somehow, you've got to find the strength to break free of his control," she told him.
"The thought of being with you again, Sara, will be all the incentive I need to win my freedom," he said, hazel eyes intense.
"But you yourself said that as long as Irons is alive, you can never be truly free of his grasp, and that so long as he holds dominion over you, you can't be the kind of Protector that I need and deserve," Sara reminded him.
"I cannot kill him, if that is what you are suggesting," Ian said, turning away from her to stare out the window.
"Actually, I was thinking that I'd be happy to do us all a favor and kill the manipulative bastard myself," Sara replied.
Ian glanced at her over his shoulder. "Could you really kill him in cold blood, Sara? I do not believe you have it in you to do that."
She sighed. "You're right. Unless he was attempting to murder me himself, I couldn't kill him. Not if I wanted to plead self-defense, that is." She began pacing back and forth restlessly. "If only we had some sort of leverage that could keep him in check."
"There is something that he wants from you," Ian said slowly, turning to face her again.
"Yeah, the Witchblade," she said. "But he knows I won't ever part with it willingly."
"Not the Witchblade per se," Nottingham murmured, "but something It gives Its Wielders. You see, although It rejected him when he attempted to wield It, the Witchblade gave Mr. Irons the gift of longevity -- the same gift you have been given, Sara. It flows through your very veins. However, for some time now, my father has needed regular infusions of a Wielder's blood in order to retain his youthful appearance."
"You mean to tell me he's been harvesting blood from Elizabeth Bronte's frozen cadaver and injecting himself with it?" Sara asked in horror.
Ian threw her a startled look. "How did you find out about the previous Wielder?"
"The Witchblade showed me her body in a vision," she told him, neglecting to mention the conversation they'd had about him. "But I had no idea Irons was desecrating her remains that way, like some kind of vampire. That's disgusting," Sara said, shuddering with revulsion.
Ian shrugged. "Mr. Irons' will to live is as strong as ever, despite his advanced age. However, ever since the Witchblade chose you as Its next Wielder, Elizabeth's blood has slowly begun to lose its potency. Soon, he will need the blood of the current Wielder in order to survive."
Sara stared at him. "Are you suggesting that I agree to give Irons my blood in exchange for him leaving my friends, family, and the two of us alone?" she finally asked him.
Ian nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I am proposing. He will only need a minute amount from time to time."
For a moment, Sara found herself wondering if she'd been set up, if everything that had happened over the past several days had all been part of some grand scheme, masterminded by Kenneth Irons with the objective of obtaining a regular supply of her blood. Could Ian have been in on the whole thing from the start?
Suddenly, the Witchblade flared bright red, imparting a searing pain to Sara's wrist. Wincing, she recalled what Elizabeth Bronte had told her in the vision when Sara had asked her how she could help Ian Nottingham win his freedom from Kenneth Irons. "Never stop believing in him," she'd said. "To him, you are this shining light that can lead him out of the shadows forever. But it is your steadfast faith in him that just might make all the difference in whether or not he succeeds in this, the most difficult and important battle he has ever fought in his brief, unhappy existence."
Sara took a deep, shaky breath as she realized how close she had come to ignoring her predecessor's advice. 'Okay, okay, I get the hint!' she thought at the bracelet. 'Cool it!' She met Ian's beautiful eyes, her heart contracting as she saw the apprehension in their guileless hazel depths, and she knew that he'd sensed her suspicion and that he was anticipating her rejection of his proposal and, by association, him.
"Sounds like the beginning of a plan," she finally said.
Ian let out a breath that he hadn't been conscious he'd been holding. "Unfortunately, in order for this strategy to succeed, we must wait until he is in desperate need of your blood," he told her. "I am unsure how long it will be before that happens, but Dr. Immo might know. Based on his actions in hiding the antidote to the poison in the lining of my coat, the good doctor just might be a needed ally in this effort."
"That's if he didn't get blown to bits along with that helicopter the other day. Oh, and I'm kinda attached to my blood, so you'd better be right about Irons only occasionally needing a little bit of it," Sara said. "Plus, I won't do anything that might harm our baby," she told him, placing her hands over her abdomen protectively. She frowned as a thought struck her. "Do you realize this means Irons is gonna be a grandfather? What do you think his reaction will be when he finds out that I'm expecting?"
"Assuming you truly are pregnant," Ian responded, "I imagine he will not be pleased. Especially if the child does, in fact, turn out to be a boy."
"Hmmm. Most grandparents would be thrilled to learn that they're gonna have a healthy grandson. Not Kenny though. He'd love it if you and me started popping out potential Wielders right away. That way, he'd always have a fresh supply of blood on hand."
"Actually, I believe he was hoping that you and he would be the ones extending the pure bloodline. In fact, he was counting on it," Ian informed her.
Sara pulled a face. "He's not my type. Now, you, on the other hand, are so my type it's not funny, according to my partner," she told him, moving into his welcoming embrace. "Tell me something, Nottingham: how the heck did you manage to stay a virgin as long as you did?"
He colored. "I led a very sheltered life, Sara. By design. Mr. Irons has a saying: 'Virginity is invulnerability.' Starting when I was very young, he drummed this into me. Besides, as soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew there could be no one else for me," he told her.
"But you must have had opportunities to, uh, experiment over the years. For instance, when you were in the army," she said. "I've heard some pretty wild stories about shore leave, or whatever they call it in the army."
He shook his head. "The Black Dragons were a top secret project, Sara. We were rarely granted permission to leave the base, especially once the drug therapies began to be administered. After that, furloughs were out of the question."
"When did you first see me?" Sara asked him curiously. "I could tell from the way you looked at me when we met in the Midtown Museum that you knew who I was."
"Mr. Irons identified you as a potential Wielder when you were still a small girl. Through the years, I was shown pictures of you. You could say I watched you grow up. But I did not meet you in person until that day in the museum," he told her.
"Well, you didn't actually introduce yourself until later that evening, but I'll admit you made quite an impression on me." Sara smiled, raising a hand to stroke the bold line of his jaw beneath his beard.
"Did I?" He gently threaded the fingers of one hand through her gleaming chestnut hair.
"Uh-hunh. You were very mysterious and intriguing."
"I felt an instant attraction to you," Ian admitted. "It frightened me how instantaneously powerful my feelings for you were. I had never experienced anything like that before. At first, Mr. Irons thought it was simply a childish infatuation. But when it did not abate, only grew stronger, he began to grow annoyed with me, especially when I started to question his handling of you. It infuriated him that my advice always turned out to be correct."
"Ah, so you think you know how to handle me, do you?" Sara murmured, a dangerous glint in her eye.
"Not even remotely," he said truthfully. "I have the distinct feeling that I could wake up next to you for the next 50 years, and you would still manage to surprise me."
*Even though we can do this?* she said telepathically.
*Even so. You are a woman of remarkable complexity, Sara Pezzini.*
*You're not exactly an open book yourself, Ian Nottingham.*
*I feel as though I'm a work in progress, as if the prologue of my life hasn't even been written yet. I don't think I truly began to live until just these past few months. Meeting and falling in love with you has been a kind of rebirth for me.*
"As if you awoke from a bad dream," Sara murmured aloud, remembering something else Elizabeth Bronte had said in her vision.
"Exactly," Ian agreed.
Sara pressed her cheek against his chest, arms tightening around his waist. "I wish you didn't have to go back to Irons. I don't trust him not to hurt you. Why did he beat you the last time, Ian?"
"Because I disobeyed him," he said simply.
"How did you disobey him?" Sara pulled back slightly so that she could see his expression, which was grim.
"I was under strict orders to stay close to you, Sara," he told her, "but I deviated from them in an effort to please you. I also neglected to keep him updated on events in a timely manner, forcing him to call me instead of the other way around. He was most displeased by this."
She thought about this for several moments. "When you say you deviated from your orders, are you referring to the time you escorted Joey to Amanda's place?" she asked him.
"Yes."
"Oh, my God! You mean you were beaten because of something you did for me?" Sara was guilt-stricken at this realization.
"Do not blame yourself, my Lady," Ian said swiftly. "It was I who volunteered to escort young Joseph to Stuyvesant Town. I knew that I was risking Mr. Irons' wrath, but I decided that if it meant pleasing you, it was a risk worth taking," he murmured.
"Still, I hate to think that doing something for me caused that bastard to be beat you like a dog," Sara said fiercely. "Promise me you won't let him abuse you like that again, Ian!"
"I promise," he said without hesitation. "The other night, for the first time in my life, I prevented him from beating me. I do not know who was more surprised by my defiance, him or me," Ian confessed.
"Okay, we've already established that I can't kill him in cold blood," Sara growled, "but the next time I see him, could I please give him the ass-kicking he so richly deserves?"
Ian couldn't refrain from smiling at this. "Bodyguard or no, you will not get any opposition from me."
"Good. Somebody sure as hell needs to knock some sense into him."
"And you are just the person to do it, eh?"
"Damn straight!" She grinned, but then sobered. "How much longer do you think we can safely stay here, Ian?"
"Another day or two, at the most. As soon as the street is plowed, they will be coming for me. To be safe, we should probably leave Monday morning, whether or not the street has been cleared. With my vehicle's four-wheel drive, we should be able to reach the main thoroughfare," he told her.
Sara sighed. "I wish we didn't have to leave."
"Me, too. This day has been the happiest of my life. I was very afraid it would end on a bad note, with you and I arguing about my decision to return to Mr. Irons," Ian said softly. He felt a little shiver go through her body.
"After you go back, when will I see you again?" she asked him. "I mean, I seriously doubt Kenny is gonna put you back on surveillance duty for some time."
Now Ian sighed. "Unfortunately, you are probably right. He will know how much I want to see you, and thus will take great pleasure in denying me permission to resume watching over you. However, it is in his best interest that you remain alive and unharmed, and he knows the odds of that happening vastly increase if I am around to keep you safe."
Suddenly, Sara had an inspiration. "What if I decided to take Irons up on his offer to learn how to better wield the Witchblade in all of its many forms? Do you think he'd go for that in spite of everything that's happened?"
Ian looked thoughtful. "Yes. As I said, it behooves him to keep you alive, and learning to expertly defend yourself would go a long way toward achieving that goal."
"Well, provided he agrees to let you be my teacher, I think I'll agree to lessons on my days off. That way, we'll see each other fairly regularly."
He reached down to caress her as yet flat belly. "And when you get too big for your lessons, what then?"
She lifted one slender shoulder. "Hopefully, by then, Kenny and I will have come to an understanding. Just so you know, there's no way you're gonna get out of being in the delivery room with me, Nottingham," she informed him.
*I wouldn't miss the birth of our child for the world, my love,* he sent.
*Good answer, but I won't believe it until I see it. You men are real cowards when it comes to that sort of thing. As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely convinced this whole 'I've gotta go back to dear old dad' situation isn't just a convenient excuse to get out of Thanksgiving dinner at my godparents' house!* Sara said, frowning.
Ian blinked. *Actually, being beaten unconscious, shackled, and dragged back to my father's estate is almost preferable to being subjected to another inquisition by Marie!* he mused.
*You got that right,* Sara grinned. She ran her hands up and down his back, smiling to feel his breathing speed up in response. *Hmmm. Since, you're gonna be my instructor in how to fight with the Witchblade, it seems only fair that I give you lessons, too -- in the bedroom!*
*You will find that I am a most eager pupil, my Lady,* he smiled, gathering her closer to him.
"Class is now in session," she whispered, offering her lips to him.
More to come. There. That wasn't so traumatic, was it? Thanks, as always for all of the feedback! I so look forward to receiving and reading it! Please, keep it coming.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing. Enjoy!
Chapter 48.
Silently, Ian entered the garage apartment. He heard the toilet flush, followed by water running. A moment later, the bathroom door opened, and Sara came out. She smiled when she spotted him standing in the middle of the living room, and Ian's heart contracted in his chest as he realized that one of his dearest wishes had come true: The Wielder no longer scowled with dislike and suspicion whenever she set eyes on him.
"Here, let me help you out of your coat and that sling," she offered, crossing the room to him.
"Sara, how do you feel about me?" Ian heard himself ask her.
She froze, her hands on the collar of his coat. "What do you mean?" she stalled after a long, uncomfortable pause, turning away from him to hang up his coat in the closet near the front door.
"I know you care for me as a friend and as your Protector," he said quietly, "but how do you feel about me as a man and possibly the father of your child?"
Sara turned back to him and swiftly undid the buckles on the sling, removing it and tossing it aside. "Ian, are you asking me if I'm in love with you?" she asked him, cutting to the chase as usual.
Ian thought about this for a few moments and then nodded. "Yes, I believe I am."
She hesitated and then began to speak slowly, obviously choosing her words with care. "I'll be honest with you, Ian. I've never been in love, so I'm not sure if what I feel for you is love," she told him. "And I gotta tell you that I'm highly skeptical about the whole 'love at first sight' and 'destined to be together' thing, although I know you believe in that sort of stuff. I think you have to really get to know somebody, warts and all, before you can honestly say you love them.
"That said, here's what I do know: I know that I love making love with you." Sara couldn't help smiling as Ian blushed charmingly. "That's right, you stud, you. Absolutely no worries in that department, even though you're still a rookie and I have yet to teach you what really gets my motor running! Think major tongue action. Ahem, but I digress," she murmured, becoming serious again. "I also know that, for some reason, it feels right that you're the father of this baby I'm convinced I'm carrying." She shook her head. "Sounds crazy, hunh? Especially since if someone had asked me a week ago if I could see myself hooking up with you, I would have told them they needed to have their freakin' head examined! I mean, I thought you were some kind of psycho stalker!"
Shadows darkened Nottingham's extraordinary eyes at her words, and Sara realized that the pain her cruel insults had caused him was still fresh. "I said some really nasty, hurtful things to you, Ian, for which I'm truly sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" She reached up and gently caressed his face.
"There is nothing to forgive, my love," he said, turning his face into her hand in that way he had that made her heart melt.
"I think I might be falling in love with you, Ian Nottingham," she whispered, "and it really scares me. You scare me."
He gave her a sharp look. "You need never fear me, Sara. I would gladly fight to the death for you," he told her.
Sara smiled wanly up at him. "That's partly what scares me about you. You're not just my lover, you're my Protector. You won't hesitate to put yourself in harm's way because I'm the Wielder, and it's your duty to protect me. That frightens me because I know there's very real danger out there from enemies that I've never even met but who want to kill me simply because I wield the Witchblade, and yet you don't seem fazed by this at all. Since we seem to be having a real heart-to-heart here, let me ask you this, Ian: What scares you?" she asked him.
His expression became wary. "What do you mean?"
"It's a simple question. What are you afraid of?"
When he didn't answer, just bowed his head and lowered his gaze, Sara said, "Okay, then I'll go again. I'm scared shitless that you'll go back to Irons."
Ian's head snapped up and he stared at her, myriad emotions flitting through his expressive hazel eyes, but he remained silent.
"You answered my question," she told him.
"Did I?"
"Yeah. It seems we're afraid of the same thing." She cocked her head, piercing green eyes studying his face. "Or did I mistake the terror I saw in your eyes when I said his name?"
He nodded. "Yes, you were mistaken, Sara. Not about the fear, but about what caused it. You see, what I fear most is that you will not understand why it is I must return to Irons, that you will hate me for it, and that I will end up losing you," he said, voice cracking with emotion.
Sara was rendered momentarily speechless by shock. "Oh my God, Ian!" she shouted when she found her voice. "I'm not really hearing this, am I? How can you even consider going back to him after what he did to you?"
"Please, Sara, hear me out," Ian beseeched her. "I will try my best to explain."
"You're damn right I won't understand! Are you forgetting that he ordered you to be injected with a poison that nearly killed you, and, as if that wasn't bad enough, that he sicced a bunch of heavily armed, royally pissed-off Russians on you? Plus, he beats you, Ian! God! Every time I think about those scars on your back, I want to beat Kenny's head in with the Witchblade! What do you think will happen if you go back to him, hunh? Especially once he finds out that we're lovers!" she ranted.
"He already knows we are lovers, Sara," he informed her quietly.
Green eyes widened in surprise. "But how did he --?" Her words broke off when she noticed that the Witchblade's blood-red stone was pulsating agitatedly, reflecting her emotional turmoil. "He sensed it through his link with me, didn't he?" Sara whispered, feeling her gorge rise. "Oh God, I think I'm gonna be sick!" She dashed into the bathroom.
Ian winced sympathetically as he listened to her bring up her dinner. "Mr. Irons will not relinquish control of me without a fight," he said softly, when she came out a few minutes later, face pale and eyes tearing. "I must figure out a way to win my freedom from him that will ensure the safety of . . ." his voice trailed off, and he lowered his eyes again.
"That will ensure whose safety?" Sara prompted him, dragging a trembling hand through her hair. "No, let me guess: my friends and family. Am I right?"
"Yes. In an effort to force me to submit to his will, my master will more than likely threaten to harm all whom you hold dear. He knows all too well that I would do anything to spare you the anguish of losing someone you love. Unfortunately, they would not be idle threats. As you know, Mr. Irons has nearly unlimited wealth at his disposal. He could easily make the deaths of your friends and family look like unfortunate accidents."
"That evil son of a bitch!" Sara said bitterly. "So, when he comes for you, you're just gonna meekly go back to him, is that it?"
Nottingham bared his teeth in a feral smile that sent chills up her spine. "I never said I would go quietly, Sara. Mr. Irons has undoubtedly assembled a retrieval team, but he is wrong if he thinks I will not put up a fight. I intend to return to the estate at a time of my own choosing. However, I cannot wage battle with these men without endangering your family. Much as I regret having to say this, we will have to leave here soon."
"But where will we go?"
"I thought we might return to your loft," Ian told her. "When they discover we are no longer here, that is one of the first places they will look, and I will be waiting for them. Outside in the alley, of course, in order to avoid damaging your abode."
"Uh, yeah, of course. Um, you're still not 100%, Nottingham. Me and the Witchblade can even the odds, or even tip them in your favor," Sara said.
He shook his head. "By the time the attempt to capture me occurs, I will be almost fully recovered. I do not want to risk injury to you," he said. "In all likelihood, Mr. Irons will have authorized the use of deadly force against you if you interfere. You could be seriously hurt or even killed. No, it is too dangerous, my Lady."
"Nottingham, I'm not gonna just stand around while you fight half a dozen or more guys by yourself. You got that?" Sara said firmly. "I can't even begin to claim that I understand the hold Irons has over you, Ian. I know you think of him as your father, but yet you refer to him as your master. When he says 'jump,' you say 'how high?' Somehow, you've got to find the strength to break free of his control," she told him.
"The thought of being with you again, Sara, will be all the incentive I need to win my freedom," he said, hazel eyes intense.
"But you yourself said that as long as Irons is alive, you can never be truly free of his grasp, and that so long as he holds dominion over you, you can't be the kind of Protector that I need and deserve," Sara reminded him.
"I cannot kill him, if that is what you are suggesting," Ian said, turning away from her to stare out the window.
"Actually, I was thinking that I'd be happy to do us all a favor and kill the manipulative bastard myself," Sara replied.
Ian glanced at her over his shoulder. "Could you really kill him in cold blood, Sara? I do not believe you have it in you to do that."
She sighed. "You're right. Unless he was attempting to murder me himself, I couldn't kill him. Not if I wanted to plead self-defense, that is." She began pacing back and forth restlessly. "If only we had some sort of leverage that could keep him in check."
"There is something that he wants from you," Ian said slowly, turning to face her again.
"Yeah, the Witchblade," she said. "But he knows I won't ever part with it willingly."
"Not the Witchblade per se," Nottingham murmured, "but something It gives Its Wielders. You see, although It rejected him when he attempted to wield It, the Witchblade gave Mr. Irons the gift of longevity -- the same gift you have been given, Sara. It flows through your very veins. However, for some time now, my father has needed regular infusions of a Wielder's blood in order to retain his youthful appearance."
"You mean to tell me he's been harvesting blood from Elizabeth Bronte's frozen cadaver and injecting himself with it?" Sara asked in horror.
Ian threw her a startled look. "How did you find out about the previous Wielder?"
"The Witchblade showed me her body in a vision," she told him, neglecting to mention the conversation they'd had about him. "But I had no idea Irons was desecrating her remains that way, like some kind of vampire. That's disgusting," Sara said, shuddering with revulsion.
Ian shrugged. "Mr. Irons' will to live is as strong as ever, despite his advanced age. However, ever since the Witchblade chose you as Its next Wielder, Elizabeth's blood has slowly begun to lose its potency. Soon, he will need the blood of the current Wielder in order to survive."
Sara stared at him. "Are you suggesting that I agree to give Irons my blood in exchange for him leaving my friends, family, and the two of us alone?" she finally asked him.
Ian nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I am proposing. He will only need a minute amount from time to time."
For a moment, Sara found herself wondering if she'd been set up, if everything that had happened over the past several days had all been part of some grand scheme, masterminded by Kenneth Irons with the objective of obtaining a regular supply of her blood. Could Ian have been in on the whole thing from the start?
Suddenly, the Witchblade flared bright red, imparting a searing pain to Sara's wrist. Wincing, she recalled what Elizabeth Bronte had told her in the vision when Sara had asked her how she could help Ian Nottingham win his freedom from Kenneth Irons. "Never stop believing in him," she'd said. "To him, you are this shining light that can lead him out of the shadows forever. But it is your steadfast faith in him that just might make all the difference in whether or not he succeeds in this, the most difficult and important battle he has ever fought in his brief, unhappy existence."
Sara took a deep, shaky breath as she realized how close she had come to ignoring her predecessor's advice. 'Okay, okay, I get the hint!' she thought at the bracelet. 'Cool it!' She met Ian's beautiful eyes, her heart contracting as she saw the apprehension in their guileless hazel depths, and she knew that he'd sensed her suspicion and that he was anticipating her rejection of his proposal and, by association, him.
"Sounds like the beginning of a plan," she finally said.
Ian let out a breath that he hadn't been conscious he'd been holding. "Unfortunately, in order for this strategy to succeed, we must wait until he is in desperate need of your blood," he told her. "I am unsure how long it will be before that happens, but Dr. Immo might know. Based on his actions in hiding the antidote to the poison in the lining of my coat, the good doctor just might be a needed ally in this effort."
"That's if he didn't get blown to bits along with that helicopter the other day. Oh, and I'm kinda attached to my blood, so you'd better be right about Irons only occasionally needing a little bit of it," Sara said. "Plus, I won't do anything that might harm our baby," she told him, placing her hands over her abdomen protectively. She frowned as a thought struck her. "Do you realize this means Irons is gonna be a grandfather? What do you think his reaction will be when he finds out that I'm expecting?"
"Assuming you truly are pregnant," Ian responded, "I imagine he will not be pleased. Especially if the child does, in fact, turn out to be a boy."
"Hmmm. Most grandparents would be thrilled to learn that they're gonna have a healthy grandson. Not Kenny though. He'd love it if you and me started popping out potential Wielders right away. That way, he'd always have a fresh supply of blood on hand."
"Actually, I believe he was hoping that you and he would be the ones extending the pure bloodline. In fact, he was counting on it," Ian informed her.
Sara pulled a face. "He's not my type. Now, you, on the other hand, are so my type it's not funny, according to my partner," she told him, moving into his welcoming embrace. "Tell me something, Nottingham: how the heck did you manage to stay a virgin as long as you did?"
He colored. "I led a very sheltered life, Sara. By design. Mr. Irons has a saying: 'Virginity is invulnerability.' Starting when I was very young, he drummed this into me. Besides, as soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew there could be no one else for me," he told her.
"But you must have had opportunities to, uh, experiment over the years. For instance, when you were in the army," she said. "I've heard some pretty wild stories about shore leave, or whatever they call it in the army."
He shook his head. "The Black Dragons were a top secret project, Sara. We were rarely granted permission to leave the base, especially once the drug therapies began to be administered. After that, furloughs were out of the question."
"When did you first see me?" Sara asked him curiously. "I could tell from the way you looked at me when we met in the Midtown Museum that you knew who I was."
"Mr. Irons identified you as a potential Wielder when you were still a small girl. Through the years, I was shown pictures of you. You could say I watched you grow up. But I did not meet you in person until that day in the museum," he told her.
"Well, you didn't actually introduce yourself until later that evening, but I'll admit you made quite an impression on me." Sara smiled, raising a hand to stroke the bold line of his jaw beneath his beard.
"Did I?" He gently threaded the fingers of one hand through her gleaming chestnut hair.
"Uh-hunh. You were very mysterious and intriguing."
"I felt an instant attraction to you," Ian admitted. "It frightened me how instantaneously powerful my feelings for you were. I had never experienced anything like that before. At first, Mr. Irons thought it was simply a childish infatuation. But when it did not abate, only grew stronger, he began to grow annoyed with me, especially when I started to question his handling of you. It infuriated him that my advice always turned out to be correct."
"Ah, so you think you know how to handle me, do you?" Sara murmured, a dangerous glint in her eye.
"Not even remotely," he said truthfully. "I have the distinct feeling that I could wake up next to you for the next 50 years, and you would still manage to surprise me."
*Even though we can do this?* she said telepathically.
*Even so. You are a woman of remarkable complexity, Sara Pezzini.*
*You're not exactly an open book yourself, Ian Nottingham.*
*I feel as though I'm a work in progress, as if the prologue of my life hasn't even been written yet. I don't think I truly began to live until just these past few months. Meeting and falling in love with you has been a kind of rebirth for me.*
"As if you awoke from a bad dream," Sara murmured aloud, remembering something else Elizabeth Bronte had said in her vision.
"Exactly," Ian agreed.
Sara pressed her cheek against his chest, arms tightening around his waist. "I wish you didn't have to go back to Irons. I don't trust him not to hurt you. Why did he beat you the last time, Ian?"
"Because I disobeyed him," he said simply.
"How did you disobey him?" Sara pulled back slightly so that she could see his expression, which was grim.
"I was under strict orders to stay close to you, Sara," he told her, "but I deviated from them in an effort to please you. I also neglected to keep him updated on events in a timely manner, forcing him to call me instead of the other way around. He was most displeased by this."
She thought about this for several moments. "When you say you deviated from your orders, are you referring to the time you escorted Joey to Amanda's place?" she asked him.
"Yes."
"Oh, my God! You mean you were beaten because of something you did for me?" Sara was guilt-stricken at this realization.
"Do not blame yourself, my Lady," Ian said swiftly. "It was I who volunteered to escort young Joseph to Stuyvesant Town. I knew that I was risking Mr. Irons' wrath, but I decided that if it meant pleasing you, it was a risk worth taking," he murmured.
"Still, I hate to think that doing something for me caused that bastard to be beat you like a dog," Sara said fiercely. "Promise me you won't let him abuse you like that again, Ian!"
"I promise," he said without hesitation. "The other night, for the first time in my life, I prevented him from beating me. I do not know who was more surprised by my defiance, him or me," Ian confessed.
"Okay, we've already established that I can't kill him in cold blood," Sara growled, "but the next time I see him, could I please give him the ass-kicking he so richly deserves?"
Ian couldn't refrain from smiling at this. "Bodyguard or no, you will not get any opposition from me."
"Good. Somebody sure as hell needs to knock some sense into him."
"And you are just the person to do it, eh?"
"Damn straight!" She grinned, but then sobered. "How much longer do you think we can safely stay here, Ian?"
"Another day or two, at the most. As soon as the street is plowed, they will be coming for me. To be safe, we should probably leave Monday morning, whether or not the street has been cleared. With my vehicle's four-wheel drive, we should be able to reach the main thoroughfare," he told her.
Sara sighed. "I wish we didn't have to leave."
"Me, too. This day has been the happiest of my life. I was very afraid it would end on a bad note, with you and I arguing about my decision to return to Mr. Irons," Ian said softly. He felt a little shiver go through her body.
"After you go back, when will I see you again?" she asked him. "I mean, I seriously doubt Kenny is gonna put you back on surveillance duty for some time."
Now Ian sighed. "Unfortunately, you are probably right. He will know how much I want to see you, and thus will take great pleasure in denying me permission to resume watching over you. However, it is in his best interest that you remain alive and unharmed, and he knows the odds of that happening vastly increase if I am around to keep you safe."
Suddenly, Sara had an inspiration. "What if I decided to take Irons up on his offer to learn how to better wield the Witchblade in all of its many forms? Do you think he'd go for that in spite of everything that's happened?"
Ian looked thoughtful. "Yes. As I said, it behooves him to keep you alive, and learning to expertly defend yourself would go a long way toward achieving that goal."
"Well, provided he agrees to let you be my teacher, I think I'll agree to lessons on my days off. That way, we'll see each other fairly regularly."
He reached down to caress her as yet flat belly. "And when you get too big for your lessons, what then?"
She lifted one slender shoulder. "Hopefully, by then, Kenny and I will have come to an understanding. Just so you know, there's no way you're gonna get out of being in the delivery room with me, Nottingham," she informed him.
*I wouldn't miss the birth of our child for the world, my love,* he sent.
*Good answer, but I won't believe it until I see it. You men are real cowards when it comes to that sort of thing. As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely convinced this whole 'I've gotta go back to dear old dad' situation isn't just a convenient excuse to get out of Thanksgiving dinner at my godparents' house!* Sara said, frowning.
Ian blinked. *Actually, being beaten unconscious, shackled, and dragged back to my father's estate is almost preferable to being subjected to another inquisition by Marie!* he mused.
*You got that right,* Sara grinned. She ran her hands up and down his back, smiling to feel his breathing speed up in response. *Hmmm. Since, you're gonna be my instructor in how to fight with the Witchblade, it seems only fair that I give you lessons, too -- in the bedroom!*
*You will find that I am a most eager pupil, my Lady,* he smiled, gathering her closer to him.
"Class is now in session," she whispered, offering her lips to him.
More to come. There. That wasn't so traumatic, was it? Thanks, as always for all of the feedback! I so look forward to receiving and reading it! Please, keep it coming.