Sorry to keep you waiting. It took me a while longer to post this chapter than I had anticipated. Also, I'm hoping to have chapter 13 up before I'm leaving for Spain next weekend, but if not, it'll be there in two weeks time.
Thanks to the usual suspects!
There are no warnings for this chapter.
Chapter 12
Starsky woke up to a strange sounding tune, notes that seemed to soothe the pain in his throbbing arm. He blinked. It was hard to get a clear focus. The white shadow sitting on a small stool at the foot end of the altar gradually took shape.
Damn, he cursed inwardly, recognising the bulky form. He had fallen asleep. How much time had passed? Did this mean that Hutch was already…? No! He refused to believe that. His partner was alive… He had to be.
He frowned, noticing that the priest was still playing on the string instrument. Starsky always prided himself of being a man of the world. He had a wide range of interests, from pottery to books, from Mozart to photography. This instrument was old, the name of it jumping to mind from a book he once read. A lyre? Somehow it gave him the creeps, seeing that man play it. As if the priest was just as ancient, just as old.
He shivered, but was calmed down by the relaxing tune. The notes were making him feel exceptionally drowsy. The only thing keeping him awake was a steady anger burning inside. With a grunt he shook of the numb feeling. "What the hell are you doing?"
The priest looked up, apparently none to surprised that he was awake, as if he'd planned it. "I'm soothing your journey Detective."
"What journey? I'm not going anywhere."
"Shhh… It's all right. Death is nothing to be afraid of." The priest opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when there was no reaction.
Right, Starsky turned his head away. That was a stupid question.
"Oh, but you're not afraid of dying, are you?" Without waiting for an answer, the priest put the instrument down and stood up to move closer towards him. "Tell me what it is that you do fear? Hmm?"
Biting his lip, Starsky refrained from answering.
"Do you even know who I am, Detective?"
"You wouldn't by any chance be related to some nutcase named Simon, would you?" he sneered.
The priest showed a thin smile. "Name's Hermes."
Hermes? The name did ring a bell, something that had to do with ancient history again… Then it hit him, and his eyes went slightly wide.
"Ah, I see you've heard of me."
"You're crazy." Starsky croaked. A chill suddenly ran up his spine.
"Am I?" Without warning the priest yanked the I.V free from the arm, causing the brunet to gasp in pain. "You hadn't noticed this was there, had you?"
Starsky looked in horror at his left arm. No, he hadn't. Then his eyes swerved over to the tube that was still red with his own blood. His shaking intensified.
The priest smiled. "Your blood gives me life, detective. I take it because I was born to do so. I'm sorry to say that you won't survive the next session. I planned to keep you for at least a week, but there's a greater need to be quenched, and I need my strength.
However, I'm not all cold hearted. I want your transition to be peaceful. My music could always soothe the wildest animal. One tune will make them fall asleep; another makes them forget about the pain. It's a little gift I have. Call it hypnotic if you want, but it does come in handy every now and again. We don't want you to feel all anxious and tense, now do we?"
"You're just a man, you crazy creep!" Starsky retorted. "You're not Hermes!"
"You're still afraid, are you? And angry." The priest put a bony hand on the brunet's shoulder and squeezed. It felt like a thumbscrew being tightened. "And you're shaking again? Tsk, tsk, tsk, we can't have that. Now… I'm going to ask you one more time. What is it that you're so afraid of?"
Starsky remembered when Hutch had asked him that exact same question. How he'd pinned him against the wall for that. He knew the answer. But he wasn't about to tell it to this fruitcake.
"The only way to get rid of the fear is to confront it. You must know that?"
His answer sounded bitter, "You wanna kill me? Go ahead, but don't expect me to play along with your sick little fantasies."
"Fantasies?"
The priest's eyes seemed to darken, and the man lowered his voice. "Remember… I am not human… I am a God… a deity. Asking you is merely done out of politeness, because I already know what you fear… for whom you fear." Before Starsky could react to that, Hermes shouted, "Marcel!"
A loud noise and a stone panel slid away from the back of the church. Through it Marcel and another black clad figure were dragging Hutch into the church.
Starsky felt his stomach drop a few inches, but before he could say a word, the priest whispered harshly, "Confrontation brings release, Mister Starsky. Let us pray it works that way for you too.
After he'd left the detective, Stef's feet had felt like lead for the entire way down. He now stood inside a small cave, being stopped in his tracks by conflicting emotions and the alien feeling of remorse.
He'd never been this deep inside the thieves' lair before, and he was sure he was close to their main hide out, mainly because for the last couple of hundred feet, the corridor was lid by torches, placed at intervals along the walls. All he had to do was follow the passage to the left hand side of the cave, leading down; follow the light. He had done what Marcel had asked him to do, and had passed the test. The Guild would invite him into their ranks. Then why was he hesitating?
Come on, Stef. That cop represented everything you hate so much.
-Everything?- A little voice shot back.
They killed Will… they destroyed my life.
-Hutch, didn't kill Will, Stef.-
That doesn't matter…all the cops are the same.
-Really? What about his partnership? You know full well why he followed you in.-
It's not the same as loosing, Will!
-Isn't it?-
Stef sighed, deeply. That was the question, wasn't it? The short time he'd spent with the detective had reminded him of what he'd lost. The love… the fierce loyalty to his brother. That's why Hutch had gone in… and that's what he'd used against him, to lure him into Marcel's hands.
God… he felt awful about it.
"Dammit," he cursed. "Of all the time and places for my conscience to kick in!"
There was nothing for it. He had to go back, and at least make sure the Guild wouldn't kill the blond. He knew Marcel had his own hideout, which he once accidentally discovered when he was doing some underground exploring. It was safer to keep the cops there, than at Guild's headquarters.
He'd just started walking back up the slightly sloping corridor again, when a noise made him turn on his heels.
Hutch wasn't unconscious, but he wasn't exactly feeling awake either.
"Hutch."
He moaned a few words at the voice to leave him alone.
"Hutch!"
There it was again, annoying, persistent… familiar. "Starch?" He slurred.
"Yeah, come on buddy… wake up."
In an instant the haze lifted. his vision cleared. His heart throbbed in his throat and his neck hurt from the impact. "Oooh, why is it always the neck?"
He brought up his hand to rub it when he suddenly noticed the chain tied to his wrist. Instantly alert, he tried to scramble onto both his feet, only to be yanked down forcefully by the iron object. "Ouch!"
"Easy, take it easy! They tied your hand to the altar."
Altar? Fully awake now, Hutch turned to find his partner lying on the large slab of concrete he'd been leaning against. "Starsk! Jesus! Are you all right?" the rush of relief at finding his partner alive, at finding him at all, momentarily made him feel light headed. He stood up, more carefully this time, holding his left hand as low to the ground as possible.
Starsky grimaced and lifted his hands to show his own bonds. He whispered, "I've been better."
Hutch closed his hand around his partner's and then proceeded to try and loosen the bolt on the chain with the other.
"Forget it. I already tried it. It's no use."
His partner pinched his hand to draw his attention. Hutch looked up to see the brunet nod at a priest standing in the back of the church talking to Marcel.
"He has the key."
"Who's he?"
"Name's Hermes," Starsky said, matter-of-factly. He thinks he's a God."
"A God, huh. Well you sure did it this time Starsk. That even beats Simon."
"Hutch, Hermes was…"
"I know. Courtesy of the private school my parents put me through. A Greek Deity, God of all travellers, like gypsies, but also a guide on the many journeys we are taking, like the one into the afterlife."
"Yeah, well. He plans to guide me all right, that's for sure."
Hutch pulled his gaze away from the priest to lock eyes with his friend. Only now did he notice the pale complexion. The man could barely keep his eyes open. A panic, driven by a spark of the much-sought for anger, set in. "Starsk," he asked, suddenly suspicious, "what did he do to you?"
The brunet shrugged, and then slowly raised his left arm. The blue bruises and pinpricks betrayed the story. For a split second Hutch thought his partner had been drugged, but then Dobey's words rang through his head: there's blood missing from each and everyone of them. His mouth suddenly turned dry. "How much did he take?" He asked hoarsely, unable to look away from the bruises on the arm.
Starsky lowered his arm out of view. "Enough."
Before Hutch could dwell on the consequence, Starsky pinched him again. "Hutch, listen to me, there's more going on here than that. Hermes wasn't just the God of travellers, he was also the God of thieves."
That certainly snapped his attention back into Detective mode. "Thieves?"
"Something they neglected to tell you at that private school of yours?"
"Starsky, he could be in league with the Guild."
"The what?"
"Stef, you know… the little thief you like so much? He told me there's this organisation called the Thieves Guild running right under our noses."
"Sorta like the Mob?"
Hutch shook his head, "Even the Mob is afraid to touch them, this organisation is ancient Starsk."
"Ancient? Like in dating back a couple of decades?"
"Try a couple of centuries, dating back to Europe and the Middle Ages, not something you and I'd wipe out so easily."
"Hermes is supposed to be older than that.' Starsky murmured, "Greek mythology starts at the beginning of time, doesn't it? That means preacher boy over there thinks he's at least a couple of thousand years old… and he's taking his guiding duties a little too seriously."
"It doesn't make sense, Starsk. From what Stef told me, the Guild abides by ancient rules… they do not kill."
"I have it up to here with that word 'ancient', partner. Times change, and that man is just plain crazy, trust me; he's the brain behind all these killings. Plus he has this notion that he's doing me a favor by letting me confront my worst fears… so I can die peacefully. Can you believe that?"
"Well, confronting your fears isn't such a bad idea, it's-"
"Hutch, d'you even know what my worst fear is?"
Hutch's thoughts halted as he looked into his partner's clouded blue eyes. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the truth began to sink in, "Yeah…" he whispered. "I know."
Starsky turned his head away, effectively cutting off their silent communication.
"Starsk…"
Furiously, Starsky pulled hard on the chains, cursing out loud. The sudden loud noise making Hutch flinch once again.
Damn… I must get this flinching thing under control. "Starsky, it's not gonna happen…"
"You bet it's not," his friend bit back. "Because I'm not going to let him. Greek God or not!"
Tbc