Chapter 16
June 14, 2021
Samantha could hear voices, but wasn't able to make out what was being said. Or by who for that matter. The incredible headache was starting to clear though, and slowly but surely she was in the process of opening her eyes.
The moment she opened them however, the harsh daylight seemed to lance straight into her brain and she winced from the experience while quickly closing them again. A comforting hand, one that she would recognize anywhere, caressed her face then, and once again she heard a murmuring voice. Jacob, she lifted the corners of her mouth in what she hoped would show as a smile.
Dear sweet Jacob was helping her, had stood by her as she was suffering. Opening her mouth to thank him, Samantha was surprised at the rasping sound that emanated from it. It hadn't been that long, had it? No, it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.
But even as she thought that she noticed for the first time how sticky her clothes felt. And how had she ended up on the couch? Once again she tried to open her eyes in an effort to make sense of the situation, but once again the light hurt too much.
"-tha, …ove …it." While the words in themselves were still indecipherable, her hearing was obviously improving and she tried to find out who was talking.
Logically she assumed it had to be Jacob, but until she could recognize his voice, she couldn't be certain. And she needed him! He was the only person left who she could count on, now that Dawn…
Now that Dawn, what? Giving up any thoughts of focusing on her environment, Samantha focused on the inside of her mind. There was something there, something that was no longer being blocked. But what was it?
Digging deeper and deeper into her mind, she came upon memories she'd forgotten, but nothing yet that could explain what had caused her current situation. Her childhood passed in front of her mind's eye, including that terrible moment where her sister died, but it was quickly replaced by more recent memories.
The first time she'd encountered Jacob, once again while she was at a party, was a memory that lingered for a while. Strange how the most important meetings of her life seemed to take place during parties. Oh, Jacob had looked so cute that day, and on her side at least it had probably come as close to love at first sight as was possible.
By trying to make himself scarce, already hating the parties she so enjoyed, he had drawn her attention. Even though she was only fourteen years old at the time, she'd immediately homed in on him, and for the rest of the night she'd pursued him with a vigor that was unlike any she'd ever known. Samantha still wasn't entirely sure what it was that had drawn her to him, but now all these years later she was still glad it had happened.
That happy memory was soon replaced though with the horrible recollection of her father's death and the dark time that followed it. The denial from both her and her little brother that anything like that could have possibly happened to her father, while her mother was barely able to function. No, she didn't want to think about that, and it wasn't the memory she was looking for anyway.
Samantha focused her mind on the times that came after, happy memories in between the darkness. Birthdays, Jacob's proposal, the beautiful spring wedding. It was such a shame that Dawn hadn't been able to make it. But at least she'd spoken her friend after the honeymoon they'd spent in southern France. Now, that honeymoon was a memory she really enjoyed.
After she'd lingered there for a while however, Samantha understood that it was only a stalling tactic. A way to postpone the inevitable. Something she could do without having to face the realities of what it was that she'd remembered. A deep mental sigh followed, but before she was able to gather the courage to look for those recovered memories, she tried once again to open her eyes.
No luck though, and while she was able to make out more sounds as well, it wasn't enough to help her identify the speakers. She did recognize that Jacob couldn't be alone though, someone or perhaps several someones were with him. The cold feeling of chipped ice against her lips, drew her attention then and she immediately opened her mouth so that they could place it in there.
Water, as the chips melted in her mouth it started to feel less like a desert and more like something that she would actually be able to use. Not that she wanted to take the risk of trying to talk yet, her earlier attempt had shown that wasn't a good idea, but while her mouth still felt far drier than was probably healthy it was an obvious improvement. It was amazing that Jacob had thought of it though, using chipped ice would never in a million years have occurred to her. And it was far better than having to suck through a straw like she'd done earlier.
Opening her mouth in a silent plea, she waited until she received a new portion. When it finally arrived, she couldn't prevent the moan that showed her approval of the ice while it slowly melted in her mouth. A weight was then removed from her forehead, drawing her attention to the fact that something had been lying on it.
What? But it wasn't long before it was replaced, and Samantha realized what it had to be. A wet towel, at least it was wet now. Had she been so hot that she required a towel like that? No that was the wrong question. What she really wanted to know was if she'd been so hot that the towel had already dried up.
Should she try to open her eyes again? Raising her eyelids only the tiniest margin already told her that wasn't the right thing to do. The light still hurt her, and as it seemed that she wasn't able to talk right yet either, that didn't leave her much choice. At least she was refreshed enough now that she had regained enough courage to once again try to hunt for the recovered memory. If that was what it was.
Strange, how her mind seemed more capable than ever before. It wasn't like she could usually zap through her memories as if they were movies on television, but with her life flashing before her eyes, she didn't really care how this could have happened. She wanted that memory.
But unless she'd missed it, that memory must have been fairly recent. The memory she was watching now was one about the Christmas she and Jacob had spent with her family, about three-and-a-half years ago. Dismissing this memory, as it obviously wasn't the one she was looking for, she continued until she finally found it.
'What have I done?'
X.X.X
"Are you gonna kill me now?" Max asked, trying to remain as calm as she could.
Noir didn't seem to hear her question though, or she simply ignored it. "Answer the question."
"If you pull that trigger, you'll be dead as well," Mole warned the assassin as he went to stand next to her and allowed his own gun to join all others pointed at Noir's head.
This did actually cause a reaction on the assassin's face. A tiny twitch as if she was laughing about something, but didn't want to show it. "I don't doubt it, won't help her though. Answer the question, please."
Well, at least she was more polite now. But what would someone like Noir care about Renfro? "No, she was shot by one of her soldiers when she jumped in front of me."
"Damned self-sacrificing woman. She could at least have told me your name," Noir sighed, before in a move that was just a bit too fast for a normal human she turned around the weapon and holding the barrel handed it to Mole. "Here, that was the only question I needed to have an answer to. I do apologize for betraying your trust though."
Like her, Mole was stunned as he accepted the weapon, but he didn't remain so for long. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Hell is right," Noir answered with a short laugh. "I told you that I'd be the only one capable of dealing with these two."
"You did, but that doesn't tell me anything about how you even knew they were here. What tells me you didn't send them?"
"Had I come to Seattle to kill miss Guevera here, she would no longer be breathing. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't compare me to these amateurs."
Max wanted to ask her own questions, but Mole was on a roll and continued his interrogation. "What do ya mean, amateurs? You said they were from the Order of Teraka."
Order of Teraka? What were they, besides ugly, and smelly she added while wrinkling her nose. She was too late again to ask her own question though, but while listening Noir answer the this question, she swore she'd ask it soon.
"The entire Order consists of amateurs. Maybe not compared to most people, but compared to me, they are."
"That still does-"
"Why did you ask about Renfro?" Max demanded, interrupting Mole.
Noir looked at her for a moment, still only showing those dead eyes. "She worked for me."
This time Max couldn't control herself, nor did she have even the slightest intention of doing so. One move that Noir probably hadn't even seen later, and the assassin was flying through the air. "You bitch!"
While impressive, Max didn't even think about the way Noir had managed to twist so that she landed on her feet. She was far too angry to think about anything but pummeling this woman until she looked just like the other assassins. Except of course, that she'd be a red puddle of blood.
Running full speed for the assassin, she let fly with a straight kick at the woman's stomach. But it didn't connect. "That first one I was willing to grant you, I don't know why, but I'm sure I've done something in my life that deserved it," Noir answered while holding onto Max' leg.
How could the woman remain this calm? Not that she really cared, Max thought shortly before yanking her leg loose and once again focusing fully on the woman who'd taken Logan from her. It had been Renfro who had her injected with the retrovirus targeted at Logan's DNA, a virus that tried to kill him every time she touched him. And if Renfro worked for Noir, then it was Noir who was at fault and had to be punished.
Kick, punch, punch, kick, and repeat. She kept attacking the woman who, while blocking and dodging a fair number of her moves, didn't try a counter-attack. Not that it mattered to her, as far as Max was concerned the woman was a danger to her friends. Friends. Quickly she sneaked a peek behind her, yes there was Original Cindy.
Which meant that Noir had forced her friend to take her here. Another thing that couldn't possibly be forgiven. Using a combo that she had always been rather fond of, Max once again managed to get the assassin airborne, this time with a move hard enough that it caused her to crash into the wall.
Slowly, she then approached the bleeding woman, who despite her wounds didn't seem inclined to give up. "Would you mind telling me exactly what it is that I did?"
"As if you don't know," Max hissed in return.
"Actually, I don't. Why don't you enlighten me?"
Whatever else the woman was, she definitely wasn't a coward to taunt her like this. "You damned well know that I'm talking about the virus."
In what seemed like only the second time the woman showed any emotion, Noir wrinkled her forehead while adopting a thoughtful expression. "Virus? Did she inject your friends with something?"
Max froze in mid-step. Was the woman serious? Could it be that she really didn't know? "I'm talking about the DNA targeted retrovirus."
"Sounds harsh, I can understand why you wouldn't like it. Did someone you care about die?"
"No! But he came close a couple of times," Max wearily answered. It looked like the woman really didn't have a clue what she was talking about.
"Sorry to hear that. Who was injected? You?"
While she was willing to grant the assassin a reprieve for now, Max couldn't and wouldn't forget exactly who and what she was talking to. "Why do you care?"
"Just trying to figure it out," Noir answered while getting to her feet. She was hurt, Max could see that, but she rose without wincing. The woman obviously had a lot of control over her own body. "So, why would Elizabeth use something on you? Why-"
"Why don't we go back to us asking questions, and you answering them?" Mole interjected.
An excellent idea, Max thought, and she wished she'd thought of it herself. "Right, let's do that. Now that we know the woman who tried to burn most of us to death worked for you, why don't you start by telling us who your friends here were?"
"She didn't try to burn all of you. You would have survived," Noir told Max in a completely neutral tone, causing shivers to run down her back. That was just wrong, you didn't talk about burning people like that. "But to answer your question, they were members of the Order of Teraka. A guild of assassins who don't mind hiring demons."
"Demons," Max scoffed. "Are you going to tell us about pixies next?"
Noir wasn't put of by her tone though. "If you wish, although I've never seen one so I can't tell you much."
"Right, you want to tell us things like that really exist? Demons, vampires, werewolves, pixies, dragons, smurfs, they're all real?" What was the woman thinking?
"No need to act like that. I can't vouch for the smurfs, and I already told you I've never seen any pixies, but you're welcome to come up with a better explanation of the nice puddles of slime lying there." The last part of her sentence was accompanied by a nod in the direction of the two traitors, or rather what remained of them. But Max wasn't stupid enough to look behind her, who knew what the woman would do then?
"Okay, I'll grant you that. It's a bit unusual for people to melt, but that doesn't mean anything."
"Of course not. Oh by the way, would you mind if I took their rings? I've got quite a collection already, and would like to add them."
A professional assassin who took souvenirs? That was just sick. "Why do you want them, and why did you kill them anyway. Not," she hastened to add, "that I'm ungrateful. But if it was just so that you could try to kill me I don't think I'd like your reasons."
"Kill you? And why would I do that?" the woman asked while raising an eyebrow.
What? "'cause you were hired to do that of course."
"You mean the mission from White?" See? Max felt vindicated now that the woman finally admitted it. Unfortunately that only lasted mere moments as the woman's next words turned the whole situation on its head. "Who ever said I accepted that mission?"
X.X.X
Walking through his luxurious house, Victor couldn't stop thinking about that woman who'd made a fool out of him. How dare she do something like that to him in public! He'd seen the way Jacob looked at him during the meeting this afternoon, and he just couldn't stand it.
Although nobody yet actually had the courage to laugh in his face, he just knew people were starting to laugh behind his back. He the great Victor Jackson, snubbed by a mere woman. Oh no, he wouldn't stand for it. Nobody did that to him and survived. Jacob could talk about holy days whatever he wanted, but if that had been the case she shouldn't have started seducing him in the first place.
Even now, just thinking about it, he got warm again. The heat of her breath as she whispered in his ears, the silky feel of her legs and arms as she slithered over him. Even the wonderful feeling of her breasts pushing into his chest, and the slightly uncomfortable feeling as she was sitting on his lap.
God, wouldn't he have loved to have taken that further. Victor could hardly imagine how it would have been to carry the woman in his arms to the bedroom that Jacob and Samantha had prepared for Summers. And then, when they had arrived, spent the night exploring their bodies until in the end she'd cry out from release amid the satin sheets.
She had looked so good during that party as well. The woman confused him, one moment he wanted to kill her and the next he wanted to be back at that party. To where she was wearing that hot little number. Too bad he hadn't had a chance to get her alone, if that had been possible he would've ripped that dress from her body and taken her there.
Victor shook his head in despair, this was bad. Had he been that far gone that he'd have sacrificed everything just so he could have a taste of Summers' body? A lecherous smile appeared on his face as he remembered how she looked while fencing, dancing, and crawling all over him. Oh yeah, he definitely would have. Not that it was the smart thing to do but you couldn't have everything.
But none of that mattered now. Summers had chosen her path, and she would learn why that had been the wrong thing to do. The lesson would come a bit too late though, as she'd die learning it.
Having reached the glass sliding doors that led to his garden, Victor opened them and stepped outside. The rich were such easy targets that he sometimes wondered how they could stay rich. For the past fifteen years he'd been leaching from them, using the money he got from his less than legal dealings to make them believe he was one of them.
As if he could be like that. Hah! The only reason he spent time with all those pretty boys and girls was so that he could find out about profitable ventures. Those people always liked to brag, telling everybody just how much they'd made using what ingenious method.
Once again a slow smile spread over Victor's face as he considered the follow-up conversations he sometimes had with those braggarts. For some reason they lost their high and mighty attitude once they'd been the victim of one of his methods. Too bad he could never let those fools know he'd been the one to steal that money from them.
To maintain his cover, he too owned several legitimate businesses, although his main income was still from criminal activities. A double-life like his was a bit more dangerous in these days when any fool could hijack a television and send his anonymous messages though. Not that Eyes Only had ever been able to connect anything to him, he'd made sure of that, but the man had cost him some money.
Now that he thought about it, maybe he should see to having Eyes Only taken care of as well, and not just Summers. Well, of course he should. But that was mixing business with pleasure and he had no intention of doing that. Unless it was with a beautiful woman like Summers of course, in that case anyone could be forgiven for that.
How should he get rid of her though? What kind of death would be fitting for the crime of leading him on? A gang-rape? It would teach her about the mistake of leading anyone on, but he decided against it. While the moral aspects to it didn't really bother him, he'd seen enough of Summers to know that she might have a chance of getting away.
Unless he used a lot of chains to bind her naked body spread-eagled to a bed. Hmm… that did sound interesting, and if he went first…
No. No matter how much he would enjoy doing something like that, it would lead to his downfall. Torture had its place, but it was for gaining information, not for killing someone.
With a sigh he turned away from the flowers he'd been staring at and walked further into the garden. Yes, there was only one kind of death that would be suitable for Summers, and that was the classic bullet though the brain. No fuss, no danger. All he needed to do was to actually have someone put the bullet there. Preferably at a time he was near so that he could both enjoy watching it happen and have a solid alibi.
Samantha's party would have been a good opportunity, but before that started he'd still had some hope that she'd come to apologize. Not that it would have mattered where it concerned her eventual fate, but he would have enjoyed ordering her around as she tried to appease him.
He should have known better than that though. Summers was a classy lady, and there was a snowball's chance in hell of her ever apologizing. Not when she was right and, as in this case, not when she was wrong. No, he snorted, someone like her apologizing for her behavior, no matter how despicable, was nothing but a fantasy.
People apologized to her. In fact, wasn't there something a couple of years back that involved a lot of groveling from a number of people? What was it again? Oh yes, now he remembered.
That Blanc fellow. Victor still wasn't entirely sure what he should make of that situation. Something about it seemed a bit off to him. Maybe the fact that while Summers had been one of the man's potential targets, she was also the one who profited from it the most? It hadn't been long before she'd started taking everything the man owned, and nobody even dared to tell her she wasn't allowed to do so.
After all, not only had the man falsely accused her, he had also hired someone to kill her. He'd been stupid though, and made mistakes Victor would never allow himself to make. No, when he carried out his plan, nobody would see the death of Dawn Summers coming. And he wouldn't make the mistake of trying to take out anyone else at the same time either. If Blanc had kept to Summers, he probably would never have been assassinated while in jail.
The ringing of his cellphone turned Victor away from his thoughts of revenge, and looking at the display he wondered why Cedric would be calling him. "What?"
"Boss, we've got a problem."
A problem? Why did everybody always say that when they encountered even the smallest hiccup? "What sort of problem could you have? All you're doing is waiting for Noir to show up."
"Ah, well that's the problem sir."
"Oh?" Victor said, knowing the tone of his voice would inform the other that he was starting to get angry.
The swallowing he could hear on the other side of the line informed him immediately that it had worked. "We're no longer there."
"Really?" he started calmly, before suddenly changing gears. "And why the hell not?"
"This woman came-"
"Noir?"
"Unlikely sir, she acted like one of those rich bitches although I didn't recognize her."
Cedric knew all of the locals, so this was an outsider. And he knew of only one outsider in the city who enjoyed messing with his plans. Consciously or not. "Carry on."
"She came, and after talking to the police they started cleaning the streets. Arresting everybody in sight. They got several of my team."
Damn. He'd wanted that bounty on Noir's head. Something like that would have earned him the reputation needed to strike alliances with some of the bigger organizations in other cities. "You said you didn't know who the woman was, could you describe her?"
"Sure. Brunette hair, athletic figure, she appeared to be somewhere in her late twenties, although that might be due to surgery. I'd guess she's about five foot eight, maybe nine. Oh, and Dave called her Dawn."
Summers. Wait a minute. "Dave?"
"A smalltimer that appeared in town a couple of months ago. He and some other chick were with the woman."
"Any ideas on his relationship to her?"
"Not sure. They seemed to dance around each other a little. Could be fear, could be love, could be lust. I for one wouldn't blame him for that last one, she was hot."
Irrational anger rose in Victor, and he tried to extinguish it before it could influence his decisions. Summers was his, and if he couldn't have her. Nobody could. Taking a couple of deep breaths he calmed himself down enough that he'd be able to conduct this simple phone call. "Alright. Noir is out of reach for now, we'll get back to her later. You get back here, there's something I need you to do."
"Yes sir, On my way."
Disconnecting the call, Victor kept the tight grip on his emotions while staring into the garden. Well, well. Wasn't this cute? Summers was slumming, and now it meant she wouldn't have to die all alone. Her little boyfriend could come too.
X.X.X
He had driven through the streets of Seattle as fast as he dared, but Logan still feared that he was too late. Bernie had kept him so long, and for what? The man had told him everything he needed to confirm his suspicions, but why would he do that if he worked for Summers?
And what was with the whole think before you act? Why should he think about the reasons anyone had for killing the woman he loved? He was there. Quickly getting out of the car, Logan sprinted to the building that would lead him into Terminal City.
Slightly out of breath he arrived at the entrance, where he slowed to a halt. The guards were on this side of the door, and they didn't look happy. What had happened? Logan went to ask, but he stopped his mouth when he noticed a covered body on the ground, and another that was uncovered. "No." The despairing sound escaped his mouth.
One of the guards approached him, Teddy he remembered this one had called himself. "Logan."
"Teddy, what happened here? No, never mind. I know Noir's real name."
"So do we."
The curt words stopped him dead in his tracks. He'd hoped that the dead bodies didn't mean what he feared they did, but obviously he'd been out of luck. "She did this?"
"Yes, somehow she'd forced Original Cindy here. Her and another guy, but he's lying there," Teddy answered while nodding at the body lying on the ground. And now that Logan paid more attention he could see that the man was still alive. He raised an eyebrow to show his surprise at Teddy's restraint.
"You didn't kill him?"
"Nah, she did that to him. According to Original Cindy he'd told her who the woman really was. Until then she still thought the whole story of businesswoman was real."
"So it is Summers?"
"Yes, it's that bitch. And we were forced to let her come through even after she'd killed Bridget."
What? That made even less sense than Bernie. "Why did you let her go? And when did that happen? Wait, does that mean she's going to kill Max?"
"Nah, she gave up her guns and everything. And while she's had some genetic enhancements, they probably aren't anywhere near ours."
"Genetic enhancements? Summers is a transgenic?"
Teddy shook his head in denial at that. "I don't think so. She seemed more like one of those Euro athlete types, you know."
Ah, now he understood, and the need for haste left him somewhat. "So if she tries anything, she can be stopped?"
"Yeah, I don't think she'll be any real danger now."
A short barking laugh came from the downed man, and they both turned to him. "What?"
"Trust me, she'll be able to kill your friend without any trouble."
"Max is an X-5, she won't be so easily killed by anyone. If she'd been hurt, we would've heard about it by now."
Hold on. "What do you mean, if she's hurt? Didn't you just tell me there wasn't any danger."
Teddy hesitated a moment, something Logan wasn't too happy about. "Well, not from Noir no."
"What do you mean, not from Noir?" Logan demanded to know while trying to walk past Teddy who held an arm out to prevent him from entering.
"Sorry, you're not allowed in right now. Anyway, while Noir was here, there was mention of shots being fired, but that situation has apparently been handled several minutes ago."
"You mean she had someone inside?" He might not like the fact that he wasn't allowed in, but Logan wasn't stupid enough to try to get past the bulky transgenic either. Which meant he couldn't do anything but try to gather more information.
"No, they were two filthy traitors. Should've known something was wrong with how much they smelled but still wore those golden rings."
"Golden rings?" the man asked while moving to sit up again.
"Yeah, golden rings."
The man sank back to the floor with a look of pain on his face. "Oh great, them. But fuck, this hurts, couldn't she have just shot me or something?"
"If you would like that, I can do that for you," Teddy told the man while waiving his gun in his general direction, obviously still not happy with the man's part in the death of Bridget.
"Ah, thanks, but no thanks. I'll just lay down here."
"What's your name?" Logan demanded, wondering what this man actually knew.
"Dave, and you?"
"You mean you don't know? Didn't your boss tell you?" Teddy answered before Logan could do so himself.
"She's not my boss. I came here to stop her. Not that I succeeded, but I hadn't counted on your stupidity."
"Watch who you call stupid," Teddy bristled while taking a first threatening step in Dave's direction. Logan stopped him however.
"Never mind, back to the traitors, you said you know who they are?"
"Not their names, but I know they're Terakans."
Terakans? What was it that Bernie had told him again? Noir has only two goals, one of which was the destruction of the Order of Teraka. But once again it was Teddy who spoke first. "That's what she said, how did you know?"
"The rings. Oh well, it means your boss won't die alone. Is that how she convinced you to let her through? By promising she'd kill the Terakans something nobody else would be able to do?"
"Actually yeah, but how-"
"She fooled you," Dave coughed before once again trying to sit up, and being more successful this time around.
"They do work for her?"
The laughter that statement engendered almost made Logan feel like a fool, but it wasn't long before Dave calmed himself. "Sorry 'bout that. But I'd have to say no to that. If there's one thing that Dawn hates more than the army that killed her precious Xander, it's the people who killed her mother and sister."
"So that's why she hates them," Logan murmured.
"You knew she hates them?" Dave asked as he turned his full attention on Logan.
He didn't think it would do any harm now, so Logan simply explained. "A former informant of Eyes Only contacted me. He said that Noir only lived for two things, destroying the Order of Teraka and fulfilling the prophecies."
"Prophecies? There are prophecies about Dawnie? Man, she must hate that. Wait a minute, you know Eyes Only? That's cool man, I really dig his show."
Okay, being complimented by someone whose friend was trying to kill Max was a bit freaky. Especially if that friend was Noir. "Ah, thanks. Teddy," Logan once again turned to the transgenic. "I really need to get to Max."
"Logan, you know I'd do whatever I can to help you. But in this case Mole's orders were clear."
"Max is in danger, Teddy," Logan tried again. "You heard what he said, now that the Terakans are dead she'll finish what she came here to do. We need to warn her."
"She isn't in any danger from that woman. She's unarmed and nowhere near as strong as Max."
"Right," Dave said as he had finally managed to get to his feet. "And of course she was never able to take out a vampire or demon four maybe five times as strong and fast as her. Who are you kidding?"
Teddy looked at the man as if saw water burning. "Vampires, demons? What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"Hold on, Bernie mentioned those as well. Why are people suddenly starting to believe in things like that?"
"Suddenly? I've believed since Dawn shot a crossbow bolt through what I'd thought of as a particular stupid informant. Trust me, when you see someone turn into dust right in front of your face, you'll believe."
"And these Terakans? You think they were demons?"
"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course they are, what else is a wrong color and stinks like that?"
"Mole and his damned cigars," Teddy whispered so quietly that Logan had trouble hearing it, and Dave surely missed it, although one of the transgenics standing on guard had to quickly suppress a burst of laughter.
"Teddy, I'm not sure if the man's telling the truth. But can we take the chance? You know you can trust me."
Reluctantly the transgenic nodded his head. "Alright, you can go in. But only you, the other guy stays here."
As if he'd planned on taking Dave anyway. "Thank you." Using the exoskeleton to its fullest, Logan ran through Terminal City to where he knew Max would be. Max, and the woman who wanted to kill her.
When he finally reached the command center, Logan burst through the door only to stop in confusion. The first thing he saw was the half-circle of transgenics, although he quickly spotted the three people inside as well. Max looked pretty bad, covered in dry blood and some kind of green muck, while Mole looked as clean as he possibly could. It was the other woman however who looked the worst.
Dawn Summers looked like she'd just gone several rounds with someone who was far better and stronger than her. Logan couldn't resist the pride swelling in his chest as he considered that it must have been Max who'd done so. The three hadn't noticed him though, and it was Max from who he heard the first snippet of this conversation. "Whadda ya mean, who says you accepted the job?"
X.X.X
When a strangled cry left Samantha's throat, Jacob was next to her in a flash. For the past couple of minutes after they'd fed her the ice, she'd gone into that strange sleeping phase again. As that had already happened several times, and doctor Manninx told him she was improving, he hadn't been too worried.
Until now that is. The cry was one that to his ears sounded like it was full of anguish, pain, and most of all betrayal. It sounded as if someone she cared about had shoved a knife in her stomach, twisted it around a couple of times, and finally left her to slowly bleed to death.
Suddenly the cry was broken off, and Samantha arched her back in a move that to his eyes looked far from healthy. Putting his hands on her arms he pushed, in a desperate effort to get her back on the couch, but it was useless. She started trashing wildly, and not even with the help of both the doctor and Walter did he manage to calm her down.
With tears blocking his vision, and a lump in his throat, Jacob tried desperately to do whatever he could for the most important woman in his life. He would do anything for her, there was nothing that would be too much. And that made this situation even worse, because there was nothing he could do.
Samantha opened her eyes.
The move was so unexpected that Jacob didn't immediately notice, and even when he did he was too shocked to let go of her now unmoving body. There was a pressure on his arms though, and slowly he began to realize that she wanted to sit up, but couldn't do so while he was stopping her. That was something he was more than happy to allow anyway, he wanted to hug her, a move that would bring comfort to both her and himself.
"Samantha," he breathed in relief.
Samantha sat up, and as the towel dropped to the floor, he couldn't do anything but look at her relieved face. Except… she wasn't relieved, in fact she looked more sick than anything else. A fact that was underscored by the wild look in her eyes, something that didn't go away until she noticed the bucket that had been placed next to the couch for this very purpose. Not waiting even a second, she grabbed it, held it below her mouth, and threw up.
Seeing that, Jacob didn't hesitate for a single moment either. Taking hold of her damp hair, he kept it out of her face, while soothingly stroking her back. "Easy, my dear. Easy."
It wasn't long before Samantha had emptied her stomach, but that didn't stop her from throwing up. The only difference was that this time only bile and stomach acids came up. Finally, after several long minutes, she was finished and looked up at him with pained eyes.
Gently Jacob wiped her mouth, and handed her a glass of water that she accepted with trembling hands. What had happened to her? Whatever it was had baffled the doctor, who hadn't been able to do anything after his arrival. In fact, shortly before Samantha woke up, they had discussed the possibility of moving her to the hospital.
He hadn't been able to make a decision about that yet, and he was more than happy that now he wouldn't need to. But that still meant he didn't have a clue about what was going on. The doctor however, now that he was faced with a patient that had awoken, probably wanted to make himself useful again. "Can you look at me Samantha?" the doctor asked.
She turned to him, although Jacob wasn't even sure she understood what was going on. Her movements were too slow, as if she hardly knew what her body was for. Samantha needed his help, and as all he could offer her right now was comfort, that was exactly what he did when he sat down next to her and laid his arm across her shoulder. The moment he felt her stiffen he realized how bad the situation really was, but thankfully she quickly relaxed into him.
"Good Samantha," the doctor said as she was facing him. "Tell me, do you know who you are?"
The merest nod of her head was the only sign she gave that she did know. Of course she did, she'd already responded to her name hadn't she? And this quack dared to call himself a doctor? If Jacob wasn't so worried about Samantha he might have thrown the man out.
"Excellent. Now, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"
"Four," was the hoarse reply.
She'd spoken! Jacob felt as if his heart could explode from happiness, and he took back every unkind word about the doctor he'd ever thought of. But the questioning continued as Samantha was asked about the date, the names of all the people in the room, and several current events, including the name of the president and the situation with the transgenics. But throughout the entire examination, she managed to dodge every question that had to do with her earlier behavior.
"Excellent," the doctor once more said as he finished his last question, before turning to Jacob. "She doesn't appear to have suffered any brain damage, but as I'm still not sure what it was that she suffered from, I'd heartily recommend a visit to the hospital so that they can take a look."
"Alright, thank you doctor." As the doctor didn't seem to make any move to leave, Jacob turned to Walter and asked him to lead the good man out. He had been helpful, especially with the ice thing, but he wanted to have a chance to talk to his wife alone. Samantha's behavior still bothered him, but it was obvious she didn't want to speak in front of the doctor.
Exchanging pleasantries, the doctor was politely, but firmly, escorted to the door by Walter while Jacob turned to Samantha. "What happened my love?"
Instead of answering, Samantha looked at him while tears started to fall from her eyes. As she then opened her arms in a silent request for even more support, he gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips against her forehead. "It's alright now. It's over."
For a moment the silent shaking as she cried halted, but that was only temporary before she spoke up. "No, it's not. It's never going to be alright again."
What was she talking about? "What do you mean honey?"
"It was her."
"What was who?" Now he was really lost in the conversation.
"That lying bitch!" Samantha screamed in his shoulder.
She was cursing. Samantha never did that, or so rarely that the fact that she did drew his attention more than her actual words. Not that he missed those, or was any less confused about them. "Who? What are you so sad about."
"The bitch killed him."
"Killed who?"
"My father of course," Samantha answered while raising her head from his protective embrace, allowing him to finally see her eyes. The dark and gentle pools he loved so much, were no longer gentle. Instead they looked as if they embodied pure hatred.
"Noir? But you knew that already didn't you?"
"I did. I just never knew what her real name was."
She knew who Noir was? But how? "Who? How did you know?"
Samantha ignored his questions though, instead being immersed in memories. "She drugged me, made me forget what I'd learned that day. She knew that I'd figure it out, and the effects of the drug must have remained active for long after she did that to me."
This didn't make any sense, she had never met Noir. "Samantha, who are you talking about?"
Those cold and harsh eyes turned on him again, and when she spoke her next words it was in a voice that promised retribution. "Dawn Summers, Noir."
X.X.X
Had she been anyone else, a smile would have crossed Dawn's face when she heard 452's question. "I meant just that. Who said I'd accepted the mission?"
"You're here aren't you?" the poor confused girl asked. This was probably starting to be a bit too much for her.
"Max, may I call you Max?" Not waiting for an answer, Dawn licked her lips, tasting the coppery blood collected there, before she continued. "Max, I've spend about a dozen years looking for you, pumping millions of dollars into the search. Do you really think I'd throw all that away because of some fool who thinks I'm a common killer?"
"You didn't come here to kill her?" Logan asked from near the door he'd just entered through.
"Hello mister Cale, what kept you so long?"
He didn't seem to like her being here. Now, why would that be? "Your friend kept me distracted for a while."
"Friend? Who are you talking about?"
"Bernie," came the heated reply.
Ah yes, he probably felt betrayed by that. "I'm sorry to hear you lost your friendship, but it was necessary for me to have someone close to you. You'd been involved since the beginning."
"What are you talkin' about woman?" 452—no, Max—threatened.
"There was a broadcast in 2019, the first time one of your brothers and sisters were mentioned in Seattle. I think that's what called you here as well. Anyway, that message got my attention and with my attention came the need for information. Eyes Only was someone who'd be able to provide me with that information."
A flicker from Max's eyes told Dawn that the woman was one of the few around here who'd figured out that Logan was Eyes Only. For some reason that disappointed her. She'd expected that more of these people had found out. "You're sayin' that you were usin' him?"
"Using, helping, whatever you want to call it. Yes."
"Helping? If you were helping him, then why did you let your pet torturer inject me with a virus that would kill him?"
She talked about it like that, and still these other transgenics hadn't figured it out? At least Original Cindy had already shown she was aware as well, but that still left these hundreds of others. "What pet torturer?" Logan asked.
"That bitch Renfro worked for her. But she hasn't explained yet why she injected me."
Dawn was getting a bit fed up about the woman's constant whining about the virus. She'd already allowed a large number of punches to get through because of it. Well, allowed was probably the wrong word, the X-5 was good after all. "Don't be daft woman. I had nothing to do with that. When did this happen anyway?"
"Hours before she tried to kill every transgenic in Manticore."
The timing was crucial here, and Dawn considered it. The most logical sequence of events would be that Elizabeth had destroyed Manticore after it lost its significance, but she'd already known Elizabeth had known about Max before she set the place on fire. And logic also told her that the woman must not have been certain of Max before she sent her out to kill Cale. "She didn't know yet."
"What didn't she know yet?"
"That you were the one I'd been looking for. Tell me, you were there when she died, weren't you?"
"Yes, but-"
"What were her last words? She must have told you something."
"To look for Sandeman," came the reply, although Max almost immediately seemed to regret saying those words. Dawn on the other hand only shook her head in wonder, that had been pretty clever of Elizabeth. Not pointing directly to her, but still sending the transgenic on a chase that would get her noticed.
If Max had looked a bit harder that is. "You didn't look very hard then, did you?"
"Of course I did."
"I would have known if you did." Or would she? That whole virus thing had happened without her knowledge. Not that she really blamed Elizabeth for it, but she wasn't happy that she hadn't known about it. It did endanger the life of someone she used to gather information after all. Well, in that case she should have informed Elizabeth to leave Eyes Only alone. Not that it mattered, that part had worked out quite fine.
Max didn't seem to believe her though and only looked at her. And as she felt the weight of the stare, Dawn considered her current situation for the first time. There was a horde of transgenics circled around her, all carrying guns and acting as if they were willing to kill her in a heartbeat. Man, these people really had some issues with that fire, didn't they?
Of course, she should have known that something would go wrong here as well. So much preparation; she had put so much time and effort into getting here and convincing Max about what needed to be done. And for what? So that they could be ruined the moment someone showed up who was supposed to be dead?
It had been hard enough to convince whatshisname that she should be allowed to get in, as she was the only one able to kill the Terakans. Giving up her weapons had been expected, but there were always ways to conceal some of them. Especially when they weren't made from metal.
The knife she'd used to kill the Terakans was a prime example of that. And despite the fact that she really didn't like the way the weapon had been created, she was starting to get used to having a slightly magical weapon around. It had worked too, so maybe once she got back she could tell Edward he was allowed to use magic.
Dawn almost started laughing about that idea, but her chest hurt too much for such an action and she winced instead. No, some runes on a knife made from the bone of a demon was a completely different category from active magic.
"Why are you so quiet?" Max suddenly demanded, shocking Dawn out of her thoughts again.
"Nothing, I was just thinking."
"Yeah, about how you lied to me," whatshisname growled.
Before Dawn had a chance to answer though, Max had already interfered. "It doesn't matter right now Mole. She's on our side, I think."
Ah, so he was called Mole. "Of course I am. How did you figure I was going to save your friend without any weapons?"
"Sacrifice yourself?" A glance at his nearly expressionless face told her he was being half-serious, so she turned the glance into a glare. "What? It was the whole enemy of my enemy thing. Solving two problems at once."
Dawn had had enough though, and decided it was time to tell them why she was here. "Alright people, listen up. As you are aware, there is a group who wants to destroy humanity. Now, this isn't a very unusual occurrence, but this particular group is one that I'd like to see dead. Max here, is the key to their defeat."
"Impressive intelligence gathering," Max mocked.
A tiny smile was all the reply Dawn gave that. "These people call themselves Familiars, ruled by a group known as the Conclave. There are a number of positions within that group, but the most important one is that of High Priestess. But you already know this as well."
"Yep," Max continued her annoying behavior. Probably wondering when the next excuse was going to come to hit her. At least she would try to restrain herself with Cale near. Or so Dawn hoped.
"As a matter of fact, you already know most of what I can tell you. How one of these Familiars, a man named Sandeman, rebelled and created you. And how one of this man's sons is at this very moment busy trying to kill all of you."
Now was the moment of truth and Dawn took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that caused her. "However, there are things you do not know. Things that will help you destroy this group. Things that only I can provide."
"And why would we trust you?" Max demanded to know. At least things seemed to be the way they should be again.
"Because you don't have a choice."
"We don't have a choice? Really? How did you come up with that little fantasy?"
For a moment Dawn debated telling Max that everybody she cared about in the outside world would be killed if she only gave the order. But while it would be interesting to see how the transgenic would react to that, it wouldn't help if they'd work together later on. "Because at this very moment, Ames White has retrieved his son. Which means he won't have any problem with killing you now. And he will kill you if you don't do anything. The Conclave might be hidden in the shadows, but that doesn't mean they don't have access to the tools a job like this requires."
"We can hold them off, we did so at Jam Pony."
"Don't be a fool woman," Dawn hissed, now getting angry at Max' obtuseness. "You and your kind are all that the Conclave thinks of as standing between them and their goal. How do you plan to hold of a bombing run? Yes, you can hide, but only if they use conventional payloads. He won't have any problems killing you from a distance now. You my good people, are on a clock."
For the first time the transgenics around her seemed to understand the real danger of Ames White and the group he represented. So far all confrontations had been at the personal level, but now that it had been explained to them that this wouldn't remain so they started to get the idea. They were soldiers, and understood the dangers of warfare, but even so they had never thought about the effects of a total war.
"And what do you think we should do about this?" a transgenic she didn't know asked.
Good. They were starting to listen to her. "I'm sure you all know what the best defense is. You don't need me to tell you that. What I can do to help you in that-"
"I can't reach Sara," Logan interrupted her as he switched off his cellphone.
Not that she cared. "Of course not. She's dead. Now, I can help with-"
Again he interrupted her. "You knew White was going after them." It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you stop him then? If you're so concerned about humanity. It's not like you wouldn't be able to do it."
"There were more important things to consider."
"More important than the life of a woman trying to protect her nephew? And what about Bridget?"
Dawn had to resist rolling her eyes, of course they were. She did wonder who this Bridget was though. "Who?"
"Bridget, the guard you killed when you arrived here. Who you apparently killed for no reason at all."
"Oh, her." Dawn shrugged, now that she was more or less accepted by these people the transgenic had simply turned into another person she'd killed. "I killed her for the best reason possible. She tried to kill me."
"You didn't have to kill her."
"Actually, I didn't have a lot of choice. If you really want to blame someone, blame your friend there who informed the guards. Blame Dave who informed her, or blame these people for setting up a decent defense. But if you want me to feel guilty, you've got a lot of work ahead of you."
Dawn was about to turn back to her speech, when Max spoke up. "So you don't mind killing people or sacrificing them. But you still say you wanna save humanity. You see, somehow that doesn't work for me."
Okay, now this ridiculousness was starting to get annoying. One person bothering her with stupid questions wasn't a big problem, but when more of them started doing so she needed to put a stop to it. "I had a choice, and I chose the many over the few."
"What many?"
"The ones you wouldn't have been able to save if I hadn't stopped the Terakans," Dawn bit out. "Yes, people have died because of my actions. Are you seriously trying to tell me I'm the only one for who this counts here? You? The one who rejected Eyes Only initial offer to work with him? Do I really need to remind you of what the effects were of that rejection?"
Max flinched at that reminder, but Dawn really didn't care. If they wanted to play it hard, she was more than willing to accommodate them. "That's not fair," Logan said, protecting his girl.
"Right, because it was different from my actions, how? Don't presume too much people, you've all got blood on your hands. And not only that of people other than yourself, some of you have hunted each other. Maybe not out of choice, but you hunted them nonetheless." Looking over the crowd, Dawn could see she had them. They might not like her actions, but they understood them. "Yes, there will always be casualties. Young, old, weak, strong, male, and female. Everybody dies, but individual lives aren't important. The result is the only thing that matters."
Some of the people around her nodded, some simply stared at her in defiance, not agreeing but not planning to interfere either. Most didn't know what to think of it all, but she would resolve their doubts shortly. A quick explanation of her plans and she'd leave them alone to think it over. No doubt they'd end up agreeing with her, but she wanted them to have had a choice in the matter.
They had to have given their obvious approval to the plan, so that they couldn't later tell her she'd forced them. Taking another deep breath, she started to try to convince those who were the hardest to convince, those who were the most important. If she managed to convince the leaders, the rest would follow. And while they debated, she could go deal with that other problem. "Right, it's like this."
X.X.X
"I want her dead!" Carlos roared loud enough that every being in the warehouse could hear him. Which, Charlie Brooks thought, wasn't saying all that much. What was a telling sign however was how the master vampire had changed his plans for Noir about a dozen times already. The effect of which was best illustrated by the way none of the other vampires were paying a lot of attention to his ravings.
Within half an hour he would change his mind again, telling them to recruit her, or maybe simply bribe her. As if it mattered in any way. The vampire was obviously losing his grip on reality, probably after having realized the same thing he had. Noir would have interrogated at least one of the vampires or demons she'd fought. So by now she would know who was behind the ambush, because her victim would have talked.
Despite the many times he'd seen one of her victims, Charlie had never seen any proof that someone had successfully resisted her interrogations. If a competent torturer had the time, like Noir had last night, there was no end to the things that could be done to a body to make it suffer. Especially when the victim had a body that regenerated as fast as that of a demon.
He shivered at that realization, the last thing he wanted was to fall into the hands of Noir and endure something like that. Luckily he didn't think she'd see him as anything but just another fledgling that would have to be killed. Being thankful that he'd die quickly, how low the mighty had fallen.
He, the all powerful undead mage Bonecrusher, once the most feared being in all the world. Well, in World of Warcraft at least. In real life he might never have actually had a reputation that even came close, but that didn't really matter did it? Oh, how he'd enjoyed playing games like that. And how he'd suffered when the Pulse destroyed the servers that contained his characters.
Bah. 2009 was a sucky year in every way, so that was just one aspect of it. The only good thing that had come from it was how Mansfield had suddenly disappeared again. But still he still spent nights wondering how such a lowly bunch of terrorists could possibly have had such an influence on his life. No more games, no more Microsoft bashing on Slashdot, and no more simple relaxing while looking at a ripped DVD.
"Go out and hunt her, now!" Carlos screamed, obviously desperate.
"But master, the sun is still out, we can't go out until-" The brave minion was cut off, and not only his words. Apparently the master vampire kept a sword near his throne, and judging from the way the minion's head bounced of the floor before exploding into ashes, he was very capable of using it. Good. That was the kind of information he wanted.
"Noob!" Argh, how he hated that name. Had it really been necessary to act as if he was a complete and utter nerd? He might not be married, but that had more to do with his job than any nerdness.
But, he didn't have time for thinking about that. Dracula called, and Igor had to show up. Or was it an Addams that called, with him as Lurch? Nah, Carlos didn't deserve to be compared to them. "Yes master?" Ugh. He really was only one step away from being called Igor.
"I've been thinking."
Brooks listened, but he silently told himself that thinking was probably a rather big word for what the vampire had done. "Yes master?"
"I believe that Noir might have possibly tried to interrogate one of my men during the night."
"Yes master?" If he needed to say master, he'd use it at every opportunity, always go for the annoyance factor.
And his two-word answers did seem to start ticking Carlos off, although the master vampire tried not to show it. "You know more about the woman than I do. Tell me, how big is the chance that she succeeded in finding out that I was behind the attack."
"I wouldn't worry about that master," Charlie groveled. "It is unlikely that she'll show up anytime soon."
"Anytime soon? She'll come then?"
"Yes master. But it will take her some time to figure out where you are."
Carlos glowered at him. "This doesn't make me happy."
"No master." Wow! Variation!
"She might not know my name though."
Man, talk about grasping at straws. Time to rid the guy of delusions, let's talk bluntly. "You're a master vampire. Surely you must've tortured a couple of people."
"Of course, that's just a way of doing business." A ridiculous and ineffective way of doing business.
"Right, now there are two things about torture that everybody knows but for some reason seems to repress."
"Really?" came the sarcastic sounding reply. "And what's a noob like you know about that?"
Cut it out with the noob thing already! He wasn't a noob, had never been a noob, and would never become one. Brooks took a deep breath to calm himself. Huh, why did vampires do that anyway? They, he, didn't need it. But then again, the whole vampire thing didn't make a lot of sense anyway, like with the whole being dead but not being dead. There were times he wondered what it would be like to live in a world that made sense.
And how about the thing with the blood? He could feel the craving for it ever since he'd been turned, but that didn't mean he was able to understand it. How could drinking blood be beneficial? He had once heard vampirism described as an infliction that caused a lack of red blood cells, or was it something else? Hemo-somethings? Whatever. Anyway the question remains, how can drinking blood replenish those levels? Injections he could understand, if the blood-type of the donor was compatible, but-
"Well?" Raising his head Brooks suddenly remembered he was supposed to be talking to Carlos, not thinking over the way of the vampire.
"Oh, yeah well. Right. The torture thing. Like I said, there are two things about torture everyone knows. The most important one for the current circumstances is that everybody breaks. It doesn't matter how strong you are, how much you want to hide something. Unless you're the star of a Hollywood movie, you'll break."
"Yes, I know that."
"Uh, why did you ask me about all this then?" Brooks asked, before hastily tagging a master at the end of his question.
"Breaking isn't so much influenced by the victim, but by the torturer. Would Noir be willing to go far enough? Would she be able to stand the suffering of her victims long enough to extract the information?"
"We're still talking about the same Noir here, aren't we? The one who I told you was also the Soldier Hunter? Who under that name routinely tortured her victims until she had the information she came for?"
Carlos didn't seem to be impressed by that speech, and expressed his displeasure by slowly taking out the sword again, causing Brooks to back off. "Watch your words minion. You're starting to reach a point where your usefulness no longer outweighs the satisfaction I'd get from killing you. You know that those victims were humans, not a more superior species like our own."
Right. Whatever, Brooks thought, Carlos was definitely not the only one who was starting to get pissed off here. "I know that, but their species is irrelevant. Master."
"Of course not. Demons are far more capable of holding out. Will she be able to continue long enough?"
This was ridiculous. Didn't the guy realize that was total nonsense? If she could torture a human being until they were practically dead, why the hell wouldn't she be able to do the same to something that wasn't even the same species? But it wasn't quite the right time yet, a little more patience was required. "Yes master."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes master."
"I'm not so sure. Now leave me." What? First he asked for expert advise, and then he decided not to actually accept it? Brooks had to resist shaking his head at his own folly of believing otherwise. It didn't matter who you worked for; a company, the government, or a freak of nature that called itself vampire. Nobody ever paid attention to the words of the expert who told them things they didn't want to hear.
That behavior was why he'd gotten out of the commercial world, only to find it still counted while working for the city of Chicago. And there he'd encountered the very same thing. Yes sir, open source applications are good enough for our purpose here. No sir, despite the fact that you pay a lot more for commercial products they don't add anything we need. Thinking of that discussion still pissed him off, they'd fired him for telling them the truth.
Of course, then the Committee had shown up with the usual offer he couldn't refuse. He'd accepted, what else could he do? Those first years hadn't exactly been a good experience, but eventually Mansfield had left and Baker took over the command of their unit. Which at the very least was a great improvement over the bastard. Until he returned to lead them again for a couple of years.
But even there he'd been treated with disdain by the non-techies. Not by everyone of course, and for some reason the field agents that did had a tendency to… not survive… their missions. Yet in the end it was always the same, and his personal conflicts with how the various operations were run started to take its toll. So, when the fool in front of him had come to turn him Brooks hadn't put up a lot of resistance, secure in the knowledge that the spells put on every member of his unit would ensure he kept his soul.
"Master?"
"What do you want?"
"Have you ever heard of the guy from the War Academy in Civilization?"
"What? Speak clearly fool. I don't have any time for your nonsense."
"I mean Sun Tzu, author of the Art of War."
Now Carlos seemed to get it. "Oh him, he's the guy who said some nonsense about how if you know your enemy you'll always win, isn't he? But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Actually, it is more like 'If you know both yourself and your enemy, you need not fear the end of a thousand battles.'"
"Who cares?" the vampire asked, while turning back to whatever he'd been doing before Brooks interrupted him.
Brooks however took a last look around in order to check if everything was right with the world. Carlos was fairly close, but not close enough to pose a threat, and everybody else was further away. "I've been studying Noir for years now, and have figured out the reasons behind some of her actions. And for the past couple of days I've been thinking about my future as well. In the end, I came to the conclusion that you don't fit within my plans for that."
"What?" Carlos asked while raising his head, only to be greeted by the sight of the gun Brooks had brought with him. "And what do you think you're gonna do with that? Hit me?"
Stupid vampire. Brooks didn't immediately answer, instead opting to first blow his former master's brain out. "No. Kill you. Moron."
At the loud report of his gun, every creature in the room had stopped and they were now all alternately looking at Brooks, and the brainless fool lying on the floor. Spot the difference guys, he thought sarcastically, but also realized that he wasn't done yet. "What are you looking at? He was going to lead you to your doom, and I didn't feel like going there. From this moment on, I'm your new leader."
"He ain't dead yet, noob," a vampire he wasn't fond of anyway told him. Obviously a warning was needed, so he lifted his gun again and another vampire ended up without the brain he'd never used anyway.
"Don't call me that." Even Brooks himself was surprised at the pleasant tone he managed. "And besides, that is one easily solved problem."
Walking over to the sword, he put the gun in the back of his pants. An action during which he was happy that nobody could see his face, as the damn thing was hot enough to make him flinch. Taking up the sword he once again looked around to see if anyone intended to stop him, but when that didn't happen he walked back to Carlos' body and chopped the vampire's head off.
As expected, the body exploded into dust and Brooks looked each and everybody present in the face. "Now he's dead."
"Ah, yeah. He's dead. Don't you think so guys?" one of the younger vampires was quick to respond, and even urging his friends to agree.
"Right. Any other objections to me ruling around here?" The silence that followed was exactly the answer he liked. "Wonderful, now that leaves only one simple question."
This time the silence continued on, but he had no intention of breaking it. These fools might not understand the true meaning of the question, but that didn't matter. This moment was for himself. "What question, master?"
Ohh… he liked that. Master, he savored the feeling for a short while before answering with a wide smile on his face. "Now that I've got all this power, will I use it for good, or for awesome?"
Post-fic comments: Thank you for reading. Next week you'll be faced with the epilogue. Yes, that means this story is nearly finished. Feedback will most likely get me working on the sequel sooner though. Yes, that is what is commonly known as a hint.
ingvardk, thank you for your comments.