Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
Date posted: 3 January 2003
~ Thirty ~
Death walked alone in the night, as he had for millennia. Amid the shadows that shrouded the gray streets of charming Quebec he walked, a tall figure swathed in a full length, cowled cloak that blended with the gloom. All that was missing was the gleam of a scythe in one hand and a ghostly white horse at one shoulder.
The inhabitants of the streets nearby, perhaps sensing a threat, retreated and gathered together, hoping for safety – or at least anonymity – in numbers.
Some hoped in vain.
* * *
Taura emerged from her room to find Elena and Madelene Ernst in intent conversation.
"So you channel to myself and Alvin _first_. We'll signal you to stop when we've reached our limit," the healer paused and smiled faintly, "Actually, we'll do you one better. I think Alvin should have no trouble putting a barrier of sorts to cut off the flow. That'll save you some effort and attention for Trent and weather-working."
"Gee," Taura drawled before Elena could say anything, "That sure sounded technical. Did you get that at all, Elena?" She plopped herself abruptly down on the leather couch, jostling the other two occupants. The healer, who was quite well acquainted with the diminutive hunter after the latter's four broken limbs, sent her a quelling look, and a long-suffering one at that, and missed the twitch on Elena's lips.
Maddy drew a breath to speak, but was distracted by Eiran who emerged from the kitchenette that was tucked into a corner of the suite. He carried two cups on saucers, the contents of which steamed visibly. As the ex-vampire handed one of the cups to Elena, Taura could see that it contained a light amber fluid.
"Are we being English today?" the elfin huntress asked, amused. "And how come Elena gets the special treatment, eh?" she demanded pointedly. She put on a severe expression, raised eyebrows indicating herself and Maddy who were both without beverages, and hid a grin. Occasionally, she got a barb in on how Eiran pampered Elena and while he obviously spoiled her all the time, he did it so unobtrusively that Taura didn't get many good opportunities to jibe him about it.
She assumed that he was getting used to the teasing by now; no blushing and bluster this time. "How remiss of me," he said blandly. "Would you ladies care for a spot of tea?" Taura wrinkled her nose at such phrasing but made a show of nodding graciously. "One sugar, hold the milk," she instructed. Maddy murmured that she drank her tea black and, setting his cup and saucer down on the coffee table, Eiran dutifully went back to get their drinks.
He was setting the appropriately prepared cups in front of each girl when Taura spied a fifth person entering the room.
Ranulf Trenton, or Trent as he was called, scowled when he saw her looking at him. "Bloody hell, Taura, it's barely been two hours since we got here; you _can't_ be having cabin fever already," he growled. "I could hear you baiting everyone from down the hall," he added sourly.
Taura smiled sweetly and instead of responding to his accusations, lifted her teacup invitingly. "Care for some tea, Trent?" she asked and had to grin at his shudder.
"I'd rather drink water," he said, his tone making it clear how much he liked _that_ option. He settled himself onto a padded stool. Taura irreverently thought that he rather resembled a large, squat toad in that position, but refrained from comment.
She took a deliberate sip from her cup, causing the tea-hating Trent to shudder again violently. Oh, she was having fun already!
"My compliments, Eiran," Maddy murmured beside her and Taura nodded stoutly to second the sentiment. Maddy must know about these things, Taura supposed, being a healer and knowledgeable about herbs and all. For herself, the petite slayer was not much of a tea-drinker, but it _was_ nice of the ex-vamp to be so accommodating.
With careless disregard towards the fragility of the crockery, Taura set down the china and asked briskly: "So what now, people?"
Sure, they'd given her a mission brief before she agreed to come along, but it had been sketchy at best. Taura looked about the group. The other four were all previously non-combatants and she realized belatedly that they would have even less of an idea than she of what to expect. The only experienced fighters of the group were absent: Alvin Maples, a combat witch and Karen Oliver, markswoman elite. Trent was a diviner; weather working was his specialty and Taura understood that the large man had been Elena's tutor in that aspect of her skills.
It had come as a bit of a shock to find out what exactly Elena did. Everyone had assumed that she could change vampires back into humans, making it easier to eliminate them. Taura wasn't sure if the other members of the team had known beforehand, but she and Karen had had no clue that the blonde had the ability to unmake Originals, those legendary all-powerful first vampires. It didn't bother either of them that the entire prophecy, secret-weapon-against-vampires thing had been a ruse to draw out Nigel Emery. The hunters used Elena, she used them right back; it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Well, of course Taura had accepted the invitation to join the task force. Hunting an Old One? She wouldn't have missed it for the world!
"I would suppose once everyone's caught their breath and rested, we'll have a more detailed briefing," Elena ventured when no one had a ready answer. "Jerrick would have a better idea on the game plan," she trailed off at the end of that statement, her gaze straying in the direction of the closed door of the witch's room. Taura thought she caught something in Elena's eyes. A brooding, smothering sullenness. The huntress felt a stab of consternation.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened and the crippled man exited his room. Eiran, who had been drinking his tea quietly, rose and went to fetch the other two members of their team.
When they were all present, Jerrick gathered each of them in with his gaze. "We must act quickly, but with care. Our target has been in the city for a bare ten days but we have no way of knowing when he will decide to move on. Once he does, it may be difficult to locate him again," he opened. There were a few nods of understanding around the circle but Taura noted that Elena remained motionless, simply watching Jerrick with steady, almost unblinking eyes.
"I have been in touch with my contacts here," he went on and produced a map that he spread out on the coffee table. Two wide swathes had been highlighted in bright yellow in different quadrants of the city and stood out against the pale blue of the rest of the illustration. "So far, the target's activities have been limited to these two areas. There seems to be no apparent pattern to where he strikes, which is a bit of a problem considering the physical distance between the two hunting grounds."
"Not to mention the size of each of those sectors," Alvin observed. He was a golden boy with bronzed skin, sun streaked blond hair and light brown eyes. At the moment his face was serious and attentive but Taura was more used to him looking… well, aggressive was a word that came to mind. Not in the all-muscle-no-brain sense; it was more that he looked competent and... hungry when on the job.
"Yes," Jerrick agreed easily. "A point I'll mention now – which can be viewed as an advantage or not – is that he will be alone. No great host of vampires to tackle this time. That's not to say that this mission will be any less dangerous." His voice rose as if to override the three combatants, who had started to speak. "It merely means that our strategy will be relatively simpler. Now, the first step is–"
* * *
Reconnaissance.
When Jerrick had listed it as step one, Elena had not been expecting _this_.
She stood in the middle of a narrow lane sandwiched between two buildings, barely aware of Eiran, hovering silent, pale and watchful at her shoulder. The thin strip of night sky overhead was blotted with clouds and shed no moonlight on the back lane. Each member of the strike force held a flashlight and six other rays bobbed and danced, stilling and then moving on. The night was punctuated with hoarse exclamations or savage, sibilant words.
They were in the old district of the city. The buildings around them were dark and silent. A streetlight at the end of the lane limned the uneven stones of the structures and the cobblestones underfoot in silver.
The road sloped downhill so that one building was built at a slightly higher level than the other. Despite her boots, Elena had to be careful not to lose her balance for the cobbles were uneven.
And in certain places, the street was slick with blood.
Elena looked about, playing the beam of her flashlight over the grisly scene. This was no feeding. It was a bloodbath, a massacre. Horror stole force from her reaction. She thought, with disgusted bitterness, that if this was how the Old One habitually hunted, it could not be too difficult to track him.
However, having witnessed this carnage, she would not allow him to repeat the performance.
Thankfully, the remains of the victims had been removed – Elena wasn't sure by whom – but individual pools of blood marked the spot where each life had been stolen. She counted eight, although one stain bordered a second, pitifully small one. A lump of fabric, barely recognizable for the child's battered toy that it was, lay near the smaller mark.
Her jaw hurt from her clenching it so hard. She didn't know what it was she felt; pity, rage and a cold chill at the ruthlessness of a being who could do this for absolutely no reason. Her mood, already sour with resentment towards Jerrick's uncaring, single-mindedness to complete the task, plunged.
The scene before overlaid itself with the memory of Kier Achmed casually slaughtering Crystal. ::They are inhuman.:: The realization struck her anew. She was reminded of Vickie Bennett and what the others had said Klaus did to her. ::They are monsters!::
In that moment, Elena forgot her doubts about her ability, her fear for the consequences. Only one thing mattered and that was eliminating the plague on humanity that was the Old Ones. She felt, for the first time, a fierce satisfaction that she would be the one to wipe them out.
Every last one.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
Date posted: 3 January 2003
~ Thirty ~
Death walked alone in the night, as he had for millennia. Amid the shadows that shrouded the gray streets of charming Quebec he walked, a tall figure swathed in a full length, cowled cloak that blended with the gloom. All that was missing was the gleam of a scythe in one hand and a ghostly white horse at one shoulder.
The inhabitants of the streets nearby, perhaps sensing a threat, retreated and gathered together, hoping for safety – or at least anonymity – in numbers.
Some hoped in vain.
* * *
Taura emerged from her room to find Elena and Madelene Ernst in intent conversation.
"So you channel to myself and Alvin _first_. We'll signal you to stop when we've reached our limit," the healer paused and smiled faintly, "Actually, we'll do you one better. I think Alvin should have no trouble putting a barrier of sorts to cut off the flow. That'll save you some effort and attention for Trent and weather-working."
"Gee," Taura drawled before Elena could say anything, "That sure sounded technical. Did you get that at all, Elena?" She plopped herself abruptly down on the leather couch, jostling the other two occupants. The healer, who was quite well acquainted with the diminutive hunter after the latter's four broken limbs, sent her a quelling look, and a long-suffering one at that, and missed the twitch on Elena's lips.
Maddy drew a breath to speak, but was distracted by Eiran who emerged from the kitchenette that was tucked into a corner of the suite. He carried two cups on saucers, the contents of which steamed visibly. As the ex-vampire handed one of the cups to Elena, Taura could see that it contained a light amber fluid.
"Are we being English today?" the elfin huntress asked, amused. "And how come Elena gets the special treatment, eh?" she demanded pointedly. She put on a severe expression, raised eyebrows indicating herself and Maddy who were both without beverages, and hid a grin. Occasionally, she got a barb in on how Eiran pampered Elena and while he obviously spoiled her all the time, he did it so unobtrusively that Taura didn't get many good opportunities to jibe him about it.
She assumed that he was getting used to the teasing by now; no blushing and bluster this time. "How remiss of me," he said blandly. "Would you ladies care for a spot of tea?" Taura wrinkled her nose at such phrasing but made a show of nodding graciously. "One sugar, hold the milk," she instructed. Maddy murmured that she drank her tea black and, setting his cup and saucer down on the coffee table, Eiran dutifully went back to get their drinks.
He was setting the appropriately prepared cups in front of each girl when Taura spied a fifth person entering the room.
Ranulf Trenton, or Trent as he was called, scowled when he saw her looking at him. "Bloody hell, Taura, it's barely been two hours since we got here; you _can't_ be having cabin fever already," he growled. "I could hear you baiting everyone from down the hall," he added sourly.
Taura smiled sweetly and instead of responding to his accusations, lifted her teacup invitingly. "Care for some tea, Trent?" she asked and had to grin at his shudder.
"I'd rather drink water," he said, his tone making it clear how much he liked _that_ option. He settled himself onto a padded stool. Taura irreverently thought that he rather resembled a large, squat toad in that position, but refrained from comment.
She took a deliberate sip from her cup, causing the tea-hating Trent to shudder again violently. Oh, she was having fun already!
"My compliments, Eiran," Maddy murmured beside her and Taura nodded stoutly to second the sentiment. Maddy must know about these things, Taura supposed, being a healer and knowledgeable about herbs and all. For herself, the petite slayer was not much of a tea-drinker, but it _was_ nice of the ex-vamp to be so accommodating.
With careless disregard towards the fragility of the crockery, Taura set down the china and asked briskly: "So what now, people?"
Sure, they'd given her a mission brief before she agreed to come along, but it had been sketchy at best. Taura looked about the group. The other four were all previously non-combatants and she realized belatedly that they would have even less of an idea than she of what to expect. The only experienced fighters of the group were absent: Alvin Maples, a combat witch and Karen Oliver, markswoman elite. Trent was a diviner; weather working was his specialty and Taura understood that the large man had been Elena's tutor in that aspect of her skills.
It had come as a bit of a shock to find out what exactly Elena did. Everyone had assumed that she could change vampires back into humans, making it easier to eliminate them. Taura wasn't sure if the other members of the team had known beforehand, but she and Karen had had no clue that the blonde had the ability to unmake Originals, those legendary all-powerful first vampires. It didn't bother either of them that the entire prophecy, secret-weapon-against-vampires thing had been a ruse to draw out Nigel Emery. The hunters used Elena, she used them right back; it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Well, of course Taura had accepted the invitation to join the task force. Hunting an Old One? She wouldn't have missed it for the world!
"I would suppose once everyone's caught their breath and rested, we'll have a more detailed briefing," Elena ventured when no one had a ready answer. "Jerrick would have a better idea on the game plan," she trailed off at the end of that statement, her gaze straying in the direction of the closed door of the witch's room. Taura thought she caught something in Elena's eyes. A brooding, smothering sullenness. The huntress felt a stab of consternation.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened and the crippled man exited his room. Eiran, who had been drinking his tea quietly, rose and went to fetch the other two members of their team.
When they were all present, Jerrick gathered each of them in with his gaze. "We must act quickly, but with care. Our target has been in the city for a bare ten days but we have no way of knowing when he will decide to move on. Once he does, it may be difficult to locate him again," he opened. There were a few nods of understanding around the circle but Taura noted that Elena remained motionless, simply watching Jerrick with steady, almost unblinking eyes.
"I have been in touch with my contacts here," he went on and produced a map that he spread out on the coffee table. Two wide swathes had been highlighted in bright yellow in different quadrants of the city and stood out against the pale blue of the rest of the illustration. "So far, the target's activities have been limited to these two areas. There seems to be no apparent pattern to where he strikes, which is a bit of a problem considering the physical distance between the two hunting grounds."
"Not to mention the size of each of those sectors," Alvin observed. He was a golden boy with bronzed skin, sun streaked blond hair and light brown eyes. At the moment his face was serious and attentive but Taura was more used to him looking… well, aggressive was a word that came to mind. Not in the all-muscle-no-brain sense; it was more that he looked competent and... hungry when on the job.
"Yes," Jerrick agreed easily. "A point I'll mention now – which can be viewed as an advantage or not – is that he will be alone. No great host of vampires to tackle this time. That's not to say that this mission will be any less dangerous." His voice rose as if to override the three combatants, who had started to speak. "It merely means that our strategy will be relatively simpler. Now, the first step is–"
* * *
Reconnaissance.
When Jerrick had listed it as step one, Elena had not been expecting _this_.
She stood in the middle of a narrow lane sandwiched between two buildings, barely aware of Eiran, hovering silent, pale and watchful at her shoulder. The thin strip of night sky overhead was blotted with clouds and shed no moonlight on the back lane. Each member of the strike force held a flashlight and six other rays bobbed and danced, stilling and then moving on. The night was punctuated with hoarse exclamations or savage, sibilant words.
They were in the old district of the city. The buildings around them were dark and silent. A streetlight at the end of the lane limned the uneven stones of the structures and the cobblestones underfoot in silver.
The road sloped downhill so that one building was built at a slightly higher level than the other. Despite her boots, Elena had to be careful not to lose her balance for the cobbles were uneven.
And in certain places, the street was slick with blood.
Elena looked about, playing the beam of her flashlight over the grisly scene. This was no feeding. It was a bloodbath, a massacre. Horror stole force from her reaction. She thought, with disgusted bitterness, that if this was how the Old One habitually hunted, it could not be too difficult to track him.
However, having witnessed this carnage, she would not allow him to repeat the performance.
Thankfully, the remains of the victims had been removed – Elena wasn't sure by whom – but individual pools of blood marked the spot where each life had been stolen. She counted eight, although one stain bordered a second, pitifully small one. A lump of fabric, barely recognizable for the child's battered toy that it was, lay near the smaller mark.
Her jaw hurt from her clenching it so hard. She didn't know what it was she felt; pity, rage and a cold chill at the ruthlessness of a being who could do this for absolutely no reason. Her mood, already sour with resentment towards Jerrick's uncaring, single-mindedness to complete the task, plunged.
The scene before overlaid itself with the memory of Kier Achmed casually slaughtering Crystal. ::They are inhuman.:: The realization struck her anew. She was reminded of Vickie Bennett and what the others had said Klaus did to her. ::They are monsters!::
In that moment, Elena forgot her doubts about her ability, her fear for the consequences. Only one thing mattered and that was eliminating the plague on humanity that was the Old Ones. She felt, for the first time, a fierce satisfaction that she would be the one to wipe them out.
Every last one.