Author's Note: ::screams:: My god, I cannot apologise enough! I only hope I haven't caused you to lose interest. I got slammed with awful writer's block, which isn't a tremendous excuse I know. Ugh… I can only apologise sincerely, and hope it doesn't happen again .
TARilus: Thank you. Glad you liked the training. It was harder to write than an actual fight for some reason. And the letter… that changed as I wrote it, lol, originally, the instructions and deal were going to be recorded on the disc, and the letter was just to explain that there was no bomb, heh. Bastard would be accurate, yes.
Mrs. Mina Harker: Hehehehe… someone is psychic o.O
funyun: Can I just start by saying… WOW! What a long review! Thanks! XD is a grin, btw. Butt… yes, that is Dorian, in a nutshell. Ooh, Monopoly money! Yay! Hehe. Arrogant is another good word, yes. In character? Excellent. Glad you said that. Always comforting to know I've gotten someone in character. Hehe, I think Dorian knows Mina doesn't want to be with him… but he will probably try and make her love him anyway, because as you so aptly put it, he is a butt. Hmm… Dorian and Becky. Scary thoughts o.O I suppose you'll have to wait and see what happens in regards to the hostage situation and the exchange, unfortunately, because I'm not giving anything away, heh. Glad you thought the practise scene was grand. I had aimed for Nemo to be scary in that moment when he had Tom at a disadvantage. It's what I was going for, and I'm glad it worked. Foreshadowing… don't you love it, Bwahaha. Hehe, tickets for a chapter… hmm… ::thinks:: Don't give me ideas! Hehe. Thanks for the epic-length review!
LotRseer3350: Tom learning swordplay… fun, fun, fun. I don't think you're the only one saying "be still my heart" ::looks at fangirls:: Egad… look at them all. O.O Gotta love swords, right? Yay, Becky! She realised her stupidity! Sorry about the delay. .
Leigh S. Durron: Poor Mina indeed. Not much she can do to Dorian, is there? After all, leverage is the key, and he certainly has it… the weasel.
Graymoon74: Glad you loved the letter. All we know so far is that Dorian just wants his property back. Sir Meanie Weenie… gotta love that XD Becky is a tough little Missouri cookie… weird phrase. My apologies.
drowchild: A twist… I love twists. Evil, indeed. Love being evil too. Hehe. Tension is the name of the game, etc… and thank you for the review!
Sethoz: Aw, don't' worry, cuz I took even longer to update! Kiss ass chapter? Cool. I could leave it there because I am Clez… answer your question? Ah wait, you answered your own question, heh. Yay! You loved the training! I'm glad. You've terrified him, forget scared… o.O
And now, with my utmost apologies, here is the next part to Ghosts of Old…
"So he must mean we have to meet him at Melmoth House for an exchange right?" Tom had watched Mina force herself from the room, and had decided to give her a little time, to get to grips with everything. "He didn't state another address, and unless there was some hidden clue in that letter that Mina might have decoded… then I don't think he's planning on sending us another note."
"Unless it's on the record," Huck pointed out, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the disk. He shrugged shortly after, uncertainty in his brown eyes. He glanced to Joe at his side, to Nemo, and then back at Tom.
Tom shook his head, decidedly. "No," he said. "Gray said in the letter that it was a private recording for Mina only."
"We should listen to it," Joe offered. Tom and Huck – not to mention the rest of the League – looked to him, eyebrows raised in query. "There might be something in there that we need to hear."
"I'm not listening to it." Tom shook his head again. "Whatever is in there… I don't want to hear it. And I'm going to take it to Mina. Now."
"C'mon, Tom, you don't know what's in there. It could be a trap or somethin'," Joe argued, narrowing his eyes.
"I don't care. I'm not listening to it. Call me stubborn, but I won't."
"You're stubborn."
Tom shot a half-irritated glare in Joe's direction, before striding to the end of the table, taking the disk in his hands, and leaving the room, with Skinner and Jekyll watching him in a mixture of confusion and fascination by his actions.
Tom looked down at the sleeve as he walked, turning the deal over and over in his head, as though seeing it from a different mental angle would present a new option to him. Sighing heavily, he knew he wasn't going to find one. Dorian… damn him. Damn him all the way to hell and back again… which was probably what had already happened to the smug immortal.
Tom had no intention of truthfully going through with the exchange. They could concoct some sort of plan, and they would be able to outsmart Dorian Gray. It couldn't be that hard… take advantage of the vanity, pride and ego of the man, and they would have no trouble. With Joe and Huck along, it was surely going to be even easier to work something out.
If only Ben were here, thought Tom for a moment. He was always good with plans. Shrugging, he came up upon Mina Harker's cabin, hesitating at the door. He was suddenly wary of going inside, though his hand rose to knock of its own accord… before sinking to the handle, and turning it.
"Mrs. Harker?"
There was no reply, and he poked his head around the door, glancing about in the darkness that was the cabin that served as home for the female vampire. He saw her vague shape, illuminated by the wan light that filtered through the partially open door. She was simply sitting on the edge of her bed, facing the wall, where the portrait was leaning, no longer hung. Her eyes had not moved from it, and she barely wavered at all in her position. There was a brief inclination of her head, but nothing more.
Tom stood motionless in the doorway; unsure of what to do, and knowing she was aware of his presence regardless of her stillness. "I brought you the record," he told her quietly, carefully.
"I don't want it."
Tom frowned. He stepped a little more into the room, suddenly more aware of the darkness than before, and realising how much it bothered him. "You shouldn't be sitting in the dark like this."
"I'm a vampire, Agent Sawyer, I have perfect night vision capabilities."
"Even so, you should have a lamp on." With that, he switched one on, close to him, letting it cast out a faint glow. He walked over to stand beside her, and offered the sleeve and disc out, just before her face, but at a distance. He wasn't sure why, but he thought she would knock it away. Instead, the crystal blue eyes rose, and regarded him seriously.
"I am sorry for what has happened, to Miss Thatcher, and with Dorian. I should not have believed him to be dead so easily. After all," she said, voice smooth but quiet, as though haunted, "he is an immortal, and will not cease to be one."
"It's okay, Mrs. Harker," he reassured, lowering the disc a little, as though he knew she wasn't going to take it anytime soon. "We'll get her back, and we'll think of something so we don't have to go through with the exchange. I don't wanna give him the power of getting what he wants."
Mina looked him in the eye. "And just how do you propose to trick him?"
Tom looked over at the portrait for a moment, the smirking face so calling for Tom to stab it or something of the like. Shooting it would lift a weight…
"We'll think of something." He offered the recording again, more casual this time, cocking his head, and raising a brow, inquiringly.
Mina hesitated, bordering on the decision of whether or not to accept the item, before one feminine hand reached out and took it from Tom. He let it go, and dropped his arm to his side, soon to find residence – automatically – in the pocket of his pants, followed immediately by the other.
Mina turned the disc over in her hand in its sleeve, much in the same manner as Tom had on the way down, and he smiled at that. It was a peculiar coincidence. She stood from the bed, and walked to the ornate gramophone sitting on a table across the room from where she had been sitting. She removed the vinyl disc from its thin sleeve, and placed it on the player.
Tom turned, and made to leave the room. After all, it was a private recording, regardless of its origin.
"Agent Sawyer," Mina called, drawing his attention to her. His head turned, and he looked through a natural veil of blonde hair, green eyes peering at her curiously. "Would you remain?"
Reluctant at first, Tom turned his body back to face hers. "It's private, isn't it?"
"It is from Dorian Gray, Agent Sawyer. I care not for privacy." She moved the pin down, activating the phonograph. She moved away from the player for a few seconds, so she was standing almost in the middle of the room. Her clear gaze did not leave the large projector for the sound as it crackled into life.
Tom listened as soft music began to emanate from the recording on the vinyl, and he furrowed his brow, caught up in the notes for only a moment, before he remembered the sender. The piano's melody was haunting, and almost beautiful in a dark, shadowing manner. It played on his senses, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
Mina however, seemed lost in the rhythm and melody of the music, and her chest rose and fell a little faster, as though trapped in the piano and its melancholy song. She moved back to the bed, and sat shakily on the edge of it, Tom watching her with concern and curiousity burning passionately inside of him. Something in the music was frightening or disturbing her, it seemed, and he did not like that at all. Mina was his friend, perhaps more, and he felt the unbelievable urge to protect her any way he could.
Perhaps more…?
Shrugging off the thought at once as simple instinctual care for those around him, he moved in front of her, trying to draw her eye as the piano continued to play hauntingly in the background. "Mrs. Harker?"
Nothing.
Biting his lip for a moment, he decided to try a more direct approach. "Mina? Can you hear me? Look at me."
The blue eyes met the green of the American, and wavered for a moment. "Tom…" she breathed, as if in surprise.
Okay… this isn't right. Something's wrong.
"Mina, I'm going to stop the music, okay?"
She simply stared at him, as though transfixed by his presence, and that frightened him. She did not look demonic, or vampiric… but she looked lost in herself, and that was not a common thing.
"Mina?" he tried again, futilely waving a hand in front of the flawless face, receiving not even a blink as a reaction. Turning slowly and carefully away from her, he made his way over to the phonograph, intending to stop the melody that had the strong vampiress so trapped in some kind of – he assumed – dark reverie.
Reaching for the device, he thought he heard a snarl behind him, only to be grabbed and spun mere seconds later. Mina's eyes flashed a defensive red as she drove him back, against the wall, her face inches from his own, as if threatening as she hissed, "Do not touch it…"
"Mina–" Her hand clasping upward beneath his lower jaw cut him off before he could continue, and he closed his eyes. Taking a breath, he moved his left hand to her gripping wrist, but her other snatched it away, slamming it against the wall. He winced with the jolt, and kept his right hand firmly where it was, so as not to provoke her. He could barely move his jaw for her hold on him, not choking but insistent on his silence. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes to look at her face, so beautiful and yet so secretly dangerous. He tried to transfer in his gaze that he trusted her, and knew she was not herself. It was the music doing this to her.
"You…" her voice was not her own, as though she had been stolen by something incorporeal, greedy and eager for existence. A dry, quiet laugh filtered along with the melody, before he saw her lean forward, smelling his neck. Tom forced himself not to flinch, keeping perfectly still.
"Your heartbeat is so steady," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Why do you not fear me?" Her face traced up alongside his, their skin brushing for a moment. Despite trying to stop it, a shiver coursed up his spine.
Damn music.
Her grip loosened on his jaw enough for him to move it, and so he did; "Because I know you won't hurt me. I trust you."
She looked him in the eyes, her own an odd blending of red and blue, fluctuating. She leaned into him, smiling in a feigned reassuring manner. "Then you are a fool."
Her lips brushed teasingly against his, and though he tried to draw away, he found he could not, and not only for her hold on him.
Remember Becky…
But he found himself eerily powerless to stop her lips from claiming his in a hungry passion, an affection and need he seemed to return… before realising something wasn't right. He just couldn't figure out what all of a sudden, even as Mina's hand traced a line seductively along the side of his neck, up across his jaw, along his cheek, and finally trailing over his temple. He winced for a moment, captured in her hold and confused at his own flinch, small and sudden as it was. Her fingers ran back through his hair, playing through the locks, before coursing back towards his temple and down again.
Slowly, Mina pulled back, leaving them both breathless as the piano began to climb towards a crescendo. Her hand drifted from his face, to bring her fingertips to her full lips.
Blood… his blood.
Gently, she licked it from her fingertips, and gave a sigh, clasping him again, and forcing another kiss upon the American.
He struggled when the coppery taste of his own blood met his tongue, foul and almost gagging. Her free hand was running across his neck again, even as he quickly came to a decision, using his unoccupied hand to snatch the Colt pistol from its waist holster.
Quickly aiming at the source of the sound, he let off a shot, hearing the subsequent whine that followed the action. A second squeeze of the trigger ended all sound coming from the wounded phonograph, and instantly, Mina recoiled with a gasp.
Tom panted, closing his eyes for a moment as he unsteadily replaced the pistol in its holster. It slotted away smoothly, and he bowed over a little way, letting out the deep breath he had sucked in.
"Dear god… Tom, you're bleeding." Mina's voice was far from steady, but she did not step forward, staring at her staining fingertips. Her blue eyes drifted to his face and neck, perhaps instinctively checking to see if she had bitten him.
Tom lifted a subtlely shaking hand to his temple. It was wet, warm and slightly sticky. "It's okay," he let out quietly. "You didn't bite me. You just reopened the wound, that's all."
Mina had carefully removed the mostly intact disc from the broken gramophone, and held it cautiously in her hands for a moment, before forcefully throwing it across the room. It caught the edge of the portrait's frame, and shattered. One piece caught on the canvas, carving a slight flaw on Dorian Gray's otherwise perfectly depicted cheek.
Tom look at the enraged – and in a manner of speaking, violated – vampire, before subconsciously asking, "You okay?"
"I will choke the last breath from his cowardly body," she growled viciously. "Over and over again until he begs me to end him."
So it had been the music, not that the American hadn't figured that out anyway, despite not understanding how. Tom nodded, striding near to her, regardless of the attack – if you could call it that – from moments before, and its repercussions. They would pass, he hoped.
"We'll think of something, Mina… we will."
Dorian Gray flinched at once, shifting in his chair as a sort of sudden stinging attacked the left side of his face. He lifted a perfect hand, and traced a line on his cheek, bringing it away just subtlely tipped with red.
"Hmm…" Now here was something the immortal did not see every day, if ever at all.
Blood.
Normally, wounds simply fell away in ash, leaving him perfect and flawless once again… but this… no. Nothing had struck him, not from what he could see, and then it hit him, suddenly, like a blow from a fist, and his eyes regarded the mirror across the room. He could see the cut now, as if from the tip of a knife or a broken glass edge… something sharp, but small.
As he stared into the mirror, his own handsome face staring right back, the solution filtered into his ever-busy brain, and he sighed dramatically, fingering the pommel of his cane as one word slotted into place in his mind.
Portrait.