TATTOO YOUR SOUL
Empty.
The woods were silent and empty as Kristo slipped in and out of the shadows. They felt still. Even crickets had finally started to come out of hiding, chirping away. The sounds of footsteps retreated from the forest behind Kristo's house. He tumbled from the darkness, snapping out of incorporeal form and back to reality, hunting about for those damned agents, soldiers of Solomon.
"Kathain!" He shouted, his voice a sharp crack over the stillness of night.
There came no answer from the girl. However, an entirely different reply was made, as the footsteps turned around, and soldiers drew close to him. Dry brush and twigs crinkled and snapped under heavy forms approaching. Kristo's eyes narrowed, waiting and studying as the men just walked up, unaware of the hardened warrior awaiting them. He picked out ten so far heading towards him, at the least, clad in olive green camo and battle gear. Kristo snorted at the thought of those terrible helmets and gas masks they wore and how they destroyed peripheral vision. No real challenge for a shadow walker, no matter how well armed these agents of Solomon were.
The warrior pulled his katana from the dark of the abyss and stood ready.
"Throw down the sword," one of the soldiers called in Japanese, his words thick with a foreign accent, perhaps sprinkled with some Mediterranean influence. This man had obviously just established himself as a leader; Kristo noted it as the soldier barked the order again. "Put the sword down, on the ground."
Kristo smirked slyly. "Nah. Maybe not."
"I will not hesitate to open fire." As if to put a point on that, several clicks came from the group sidestepping around the swordsman.
The witch brought up his katana ignoring the dull and spreading ache of his shoulder along with the stream of warmth spreading down his arm; his grin spread, toothy and predatory. "I didn't think you would." Kristo reached out with his mind, feeling the tendrils of black night at his fingertips; despite the slight glow of the Orbo pinned to their chest and the bubbling in each vial. "So…" The witch ignored the reaction of the green liquid, tipping the blade of his sword down to point at the gun of the lead soldier. "You going to actually use that?"
"This is your last chance," the soldier sounded more like he was pleading instead of ordering as he should have been.
Kristo shrugged. "I like those kinds of chances."
They opened fire, not hesitating. Kristo slipped back, spinning into the shadows, disappearing from sight as the black of night wrapped around him. The swordsman chuckled in a deep, ominous way, taunting the confused and swearing soldiers. The Orbo on their chests glowed bright, like little lamps in a dark sea, bobbing and swaying on the current as the soldiers turned, looking this way and that, trying to figure out how exactly Kristo had vanished entirely.
The swordsman took delight in this, reaching out from the shadows behind one soldier, tapping him on the shoulder. "Boo."
Right as the entire group of Solomon agents turned suddenly, just as Kristo fell back into the abyss, letting his Craft take him. He faded into existence on the other side of the ring of soldiers just long enough to grab one, bring up his katana, and swiftly slit the throat with a crimson, arterial spray, more like ink in the dark, silencing any scream. The agent of Solomon was dead and Kristo gone before the body hit the ground in a crumpled heap.
"The fuck?" One of the intruders swore.
Kristo's impossibly wide grin grew at their confusion and terror. The shadow walker thrust his sword out from the abyss, between the body armor plates, and right into the gullet of another man. Kristo pulled the blade back, into the shadows with him, a splash of scarlet splattering on the ground before the corpse fell.
Two down. 7 to go. The odds were getting far better.
Into reality again, Kristo stepped, this time, right behind the leader of these intruders and taking his tonto with him. The warrior grabbed his enemy from behind, holding the tonto up to the man's throat, forcing it over the armored vest and right to the soft flesh of the soldier's neck. The worst part, the very worst part, of striking up a battle with a witch was fighting a man who knew how to fight and knew your gear.
"Hello," the swordsman breathed it into the soldier's ear, taunting him.
The soldier stiffened, trying to draw his head back, away from the finely honed edge. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No."
"Then why are you doing this?" the soldier hissed.
Kristo smirked again, his delight and enjoyment of this battle rising up within. His heart beat fast, welcoming the swift action, and the dark tingled, tickling at the shadow walker's Craft. Sweet battle. The urge to fight. This was the purest of life. There was no thought, no care, no worry. There was only the battle itself and the blinding motion.
"I want some answers," Kristo demanding the word, pressing the blade in closer to the soldier's neck. "And you're going to give me some."
"No."
The warrior fell away from the solder for a moment. The shadows pooled and collected in front of the stranger. A gasp escaped the soldier's mouth, really more forced as Kristo appeared in front of him, for a millisecond, driving the tonto through the intruder's shoulder and into the tree behind him. Kristo whirled away, into the thin wisps of darkness to the woods around them, chortling to himself.
"Then, I want you to watch." Kristo spoke from the abyss, booming and echoing over the night song.
The night had a song, a fierce, wild song. And everything in the world played a part. No calm and gentle song. No, in these woods the song became a daring concerto, fast paced and angry. The predators called out throaty, bass notes, while the prey sang in high, flighty soprano. Kristo, most certainly played a low, menacing bass at this moment, skulking back in the abyss and savoring every moment as the soldier unsuccessfully clawed at the hilt of the blade.
In a flurry of motion, Kristo dispatched the remained of the soldiers in one, fast, elegant rush. In a heartbeat, the swordsman was standing, wiping the blood from the blade quietly with a cloth. It was a small gesture, one grown from years of working with that particular sword. The swordsman felt nothing more the men who had died. No hatred. No disgust. No excitement at their death. It was just death, dealt in with a cool regard for the bravery these men held to dare attack a band of witches in their own home.
A gag drew Kristo's attention back to the soldier he had left stuck to the tree. "Sonovabitch."
Kristo cocked his head to one side and ripped the tonto from the stranger's solder. The Solomon agent fell to the ground. He moved to run away, but the tip of Kristo's katana stuck at the base of the man's neck.
"Who sent you?" the swordsman asked.
The soldier shook his head. "I'm not telling you anything."
Kristo pressed the tip a bit harder into the man. "I'm not asking you again."
"Solomon."
The swordsman nodded. "What did you come here for?"
"The girl. The Oracle." The soldier tried to be as still as possible with the deadly sword pressed against his throat. "They sent us for her."
"Where is she?" Kristo demanded it. The soldier didn't answer. "WHERE IS SHE?"
"Gone. She's gone." The man admitted it, closing his eyes tight, waiting for the swordsman to slam down on the blade, through his neck and arteries. "The other squad took her and the other."
Amon.
"Where are they taking her?"
The soldier just laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Don't tempt me to kill you," Kristo snarled. "Tell me where they're taking her."
"Couldn't tell you if wanted to," the intruder sang, as if joking with him.
"I told you not to tempt me."
When Kristo didn't get the answer he wanted, the swordsman pressed down on the sword, venting his rage in a slow motion. Horror movies didn't lie about one thing. They always depicted that sickening, tortured grimace perfectly. Kristo didn't muse on it much as the blade slid through flesh and the scream molded into a hacking sort of gag. The swordsman stood there, looking down at the dying man as gurgles of blood pumped from the throat with his last, liquid breathes. Kristo was a man, a true warrior, with the balls to stand and watch his enemy suffer and die. And so many more would see their life snuffed out before this was over if they stood in Kristo's way to getting Kathain back, safe and sound.
Then, Kristo was gone, and the woods were silent once again.
xxxx
Kristo's telling of the story, however, was much less colorful than reality.
When asked by Nagira and all those to recount the events of that night, the swordsman held to the same account that he had given to Bear and Raven. When Kristo went back to look, both Amon and Kathain were gone, taken by the agents of Solomon, dogs of the enemy. He left out a world of details.
At least, Nycole knew it. The empath didn't think anyone else knew the truth about that night. The telepath only took a small peak while checking the dressing on the gunshot wound. Her mental touch fluttered across Kristo's subconsciousness, just a pacing glance at the freshest thoughts and memories. Fortunately, the telepath didn't need to dive too deep. The memory of the entire event rested just below Kristo's surface thoughts as the warrior himself replayed the entire sequence, searching for any flaws or subtle mistakes that needed to be corrected before the next encounter with Solomon. The only thing Nycole had to worry about was the lingering throb in the shadow walker's arm, sending dull aches passing through her own shoulder. A disheartening side affect to empathy and telepathy.
Nycole hated what Kristo had done, but knew it was a necessary thing. Kristo was a warrior. Not just any warrior. He was one of THE warriors. His battle was a higher cause, but that didn't stop the empath's heart from panging at the thought of death. Yet another disheartening side affect.
The empath looked to Robin, sitting on the window ledge of the hidden apartment above Nagira's law office. Nycole couldn't tell if the younger girl fought the urge to cry, to just let the tears flow, or the urge to just burn everything to the ground, destroy all she saw. The fire starter looked balefully out, over the cityscape, as if trying to find Amon there, amidst the soaring skyscrapers of Tokyo. No, there would be no finding Amon in Tokyo, or even Japan for that matter. Nycole just didn't have the heart to tell the teenager. Another side affect to empathy.
It wasn't that Nycole was a wimp or coward. Far from it. Nycole acted bravely, out of instinct and faith. The telepath could stand up to anything, anything that hurt the people she cared about. Yet this was a double-edged sword, a catch-22. Nycole refused to hurt the people she cared about. Strangely, more and more, Nycole found herself growing close to Robin, protectively so. The teenage girl was like a little sister to the telepath. Nycole couldn't bring herself to feel the hurt and anguish that would roll off Robin when she found out that saving Amon would be a difficult task. Nycole would rather not be the messenger for that sad news.
"All patched up." The telepath finally taped the last bit shut and sat back in the couch. "Ready to go." Nycole hugged Kristo lightly, careful of his injured shoulder. "Thank you."
"For what?" He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what the empath spoke of.
Nycole smiled warmly. "For trying."
He gave a nod, understanding.
Nagira sighed from the corner. "Well, this is all good and touching, but what are you guys going to do about Solomon?"
Robin stepped off her perch on the ledge, dusting herself off. "We are going to get Amon and Kathain back." The girl straightened her dress, as if getting ready to go right now. "I refuse to just sit back while whatever happens to them just happens."
"Yeah, but you have no plan," the lawyer pointed out.
The teenager closed her eyes, thinking of Amon, picturing his face in infinite detail. "I won't leave them to Solomon."
"I'm not asking you to," Nagira said.
Nycole had to stifle a saddened giggle at the statement. She and Kathain had a joke from several years back, stemming from a serious contemplation of the female rhythms and resetting them based off of pheromones. Kathain had laughed and teased, crying out something about not licking another woman's armpit. Nycole snickered, saying, "I'm not asking you to." Somehow, the joke just continued.
The redhead had to swallow back tears and a lump in her throat. Kathain was a younger sister to her, perhaps her best friend. They'd been together through thick and thin, through this entire ordeal. They discovered the secret of the Thirteen together, and had to live with it, learn and cope together. They were inseparable. They were Merry and Pippen, always getting into trouble by their curiosity and fun loving nature. And Kathain had just been taken by Solomon.
"You don't even know where they're being taken," the lawyer argued.
Nycole went to say something, but Kristo piped up first. "Yes, we do." He slightly stretched his arm, testing the injured shoulder. "They had a Beretta M501. It's an Italian Army issued firearm, not really available outside of Europe. I tested a Beretta at one point; I know exactly what they sound like."
"Solomon sent a team directly from Rome?" Robin flinched mentally at the thought. "They've seriously been hunting all of you down."
Geoff nodded. "A lot of people have." He sighed, thinking about what had just fallen into the hands of Solomon, wondering what the organization planned to do with the precognitive. "Right now, they've only got Kathain. Hopefully, they know nothing about the Thirteen or anything else." The man ran his fingers through long, tangled, black hair. "So, for right now, we're not exactly up shit creek."
Kristo glanced to Robin, his military training coming out. "How many Solomon facilities are there in Italy, exactly?"
"A dozen or so, including the main buildings in Rome," the fire starter replied.
Brett found it harder and harder to control his own anger, his own rising, internal fire, a volcano building within. "Any way we could narrow the list down."
"Michael…."
Brett raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Michael. He's a hacker," the girl breathed. "He could crack into Solomon's computer system and find them."
Nycole vaguely recalled the young hacker, Michael Lee, from what seemed like ages ago. Sakaki had introduced them, maybe once or twice. She couldn't quite recall. Michael had seemed like a good, honest person. He's probably help.
"Yeah, one problem with that," Sakaki pointed out.
Nycole frowned. "What's that?"
"We have to get into the STN-J."
xxxx
Ah, happy now? More details of that night are coming out, but what exactly has happened to Amon and Kathain? Where in the hell are they? And why in the hell do I love cliffhangers as much as I do?
