Duplicity

By Divamercury

Hello, all. Sorry it's taken me so long, but you know how it goes with school. Plus my muse wasn't speaking to meshe's easily pissed off, andwell, that left me kind of stranded. But you can thank the music of Starship (formerly Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship) for the end of this chapter. Just got a CD with their greatest hits and wow! Nothing inspires me like 80's musicfor some bizarre reason. ;) Just a warning: if anyone thinks that Ian acts out of characterwell, you haven't been paying attention to my series, now, have you? I'm getting him out of his shell. And I think he may be spending too much time with Sarasee what you think when you read the end. And by all things sacred, please review! Lack of reviews doesn't spur my muse on, and you saw how long it's taken me to post. Close to two weeks! Do you want to contribute to that? Didn't think so. ;) Love you allbut I'll love you a lot more if you review!

~DM

Chapter 15

Someone knocked on the door of the apartment, waking me instantly. Sara, however, was oblivious to everything considering she was practically unconscious. I smiled slightly at her sleeping form, pulled on my pants, and crossed the room to open the door.

"Hello, Nick," I said.

"HeyIan, right? You and Pez are together, yeah?" Nick asked.

Sara's love life must have been—and was probably continuing to be—a hot topic of discussion for her friends and acquaintances. Interesting thought.

"Yes, that's right," I said, smiling at him. He didn't look Chinese, either, with his lanky frame, red hair, and freckles. Stop thinking about that, Ian,' I told myself. You're acting like everything's supposed to make sense in this world. And yet your lover wields an ancient, sentient bracelet that becomes a gauntlet and swordand that makes loads of sense in itself.'

"Here you go," Nick said, handing me the food. "$16. 67, as usual."

"Sure. Just hang on," I said, carrying the food inside and putting it down on the table. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty, handing it to Nick and shaking my head when he started to make change.

"Thanks, sir! You and Pez are great!"

"Any time," I said. "Goodbye."

"Bye!" he said jovially, and I closed the door behind him.

I heard sounds from inside the apartment and headed in to see Sara tossing a bit. I sat down on the bed beside her and kissed her forehead. One green eye popped open, followed closely by the other. I straightened and she looked up at me.

"Have a good rest?" I asked.

"What rest?" she returned with a grin.

"True. Nick just dropped by and dinner's here."

"Okay," she yawned. She hadn't moved yet.

"Um, Sara?" I asked. She looked at me. "Motion would be preferable," I teased.

"Oh, you mean I actually have to get up?" she asked, acting surprised.

"That is typically how it's done."

"Oh. Gotcha." She sat up, stretched, slipped a large T-shirt over her head, and then slid off the bed and joined me at the table.

"Oooh, yum. You know me too well, Ian," she said as we dug in.

"Yes, well, I've been paying attention," I said.

"Good for you. So what were you up to today? You already know about my day."

"Well, I already told you about the job search. I almost killed the clerk."

Sara choked on her drink. "What?!?"

I'd expected that reaction, and I smiled. "Not really. Just in my mind. She was a Valley girl and she reminded me of McCartey."

"Oh. Well, that's okay, then."

I smiled. She wasn't fond of West Coasters, either. Considering her experience with them, I couldn't blame her. And there didn't seem to be much love lost between themI was a little relieved by that.

"So what happened after that? How'd you stay sane?" she asked, knocking me out of my reverie.

"It was rather difficult. She asked me for my "umyou know, those things?"

"Credentials?" Sara asked, and I had to work hard to keep myself from bursting out laughing.

"Yes. Exactly my choice of words. Then I told her that if I related them to her I would have to end her life. She called her supervisor in terror and he took care of me. I explained my prank and he did everything but give me the key to the city. Including schedule a meeting at Vorschlag."

"Ian."

"Hmmm?"

"You're obsessing over this," she admonished.

"Oh. Sorry. I'll try to get over it," I said, properly chastised.

"Well, look on the bright side. As soon as it's over and you turn her down, you can call me and tell me all about it."

"True." At least there was that.

"Ian?" Sara asked after a moment.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think Adair knows about the Witchblade?"

I pondered this for a moment, and a shiver ran down my spine at the very thought.

"I'm not sure, Sara. If she mentions it in any way, I'll be sure to let you know."

Now I was more nervous than I had been previously. Combine Irons's ruthlessness, obsession with the Witchblade, and overall spirit into a woman, throw her into the driver's seat of a very powerful company, and we could have some big problems. Adair could potentially wield it, although she would be a pretender and she wouldn't be able to kill Sara, Raven, or myself with the blade since we all wore it. But Gabriel, Mac, her partner Connor, Jacksonthey were all susceptible.

I realized I had been caught up in my thoughts when Sara whistled and brought me down to earth.

"You zoned out on me. Thinking?"

"Unfortunately."

She smiled. "Just wondering."

Sara embraced me after we finished dinner and cleaned up, looking me in the eye from her shorter height.

"Everything's going to work out fine, Ian. Isn't that what you always tell me when things aren't going so well?" I nodded. "Well, this time you need to believe it. You're usually right when you say it."

I sighed. "I just want tomorrow to be over."

"I know. But, considering it won't be until it's ready, do you mind if I distract you for a while?"

"That wouldn't bother me in the least," I said, scooping her up before she could react and heading purposefully toward the bed.

* * *

I had spent most of the day in the Witchblade hall of Father's—excuse me, my— mansion, examining the pieces of art featuring the sentient object, and also in the library reading all the files and books I could get my hands on with that subject. The more I learned about the Witchblade, the more eager I was to see the thing firsthandand the more I wanted it for myself. So this was what had captured Father's attentionit must not have been hard for him to be entranced by its powerbut I actually had a chance. I was a woman and could wield it.

While poring through the amassed knowledge of the Witchblade available to me, I had also read a complete background on Sara Pezzini that was included in one of the files. Adopted as an infant, her "mother" died when she was young and her "father" James Pezzini, a homicide detective with the same precinct she now worked at—the 11th—raised her. She received the Witchblade during a shootout at the Midtown Museum on November 11th, 2000. She had been openly and then subtly pursued by Father in order to separate her from the Witchblade and to take her as a lover, but he failed in both areas. The Periculum was reached and she passed. Over time Father'sservant Ian Nottingham became infatuated with her and disobeyed Father by leaving his service and turning to Pezzini. They became lovers and the rest was history.

I closed the file and stretched, leaning back in my desk chair. As far as I could tell, Ian Nottingham was the surest way to the Witchblade. Father had made sure that the research with the Black Dragons had been carefully preserved and with that information in my back pocket, it would be easy to "reprogram" him to take the Witchblade from Pezzinior to kill her. I smiled at this thought. It was so much fun to play with people's lives. Victory would soon be mine as soon as I got my hands on Ian Nottingham.

* * *

I awoke the next morning when the sky was tinged with pink from the rising sun. I watched the opening of Mother Nature's art gallery for a while, then turned to the masterpiece resting beside me. Even in slumber a slight smile was in place across her lips. She was lying on her left side, tangled up in her portion of the sheets, the arm with the Witchblade resting over her head on the pillow. Some of her hair had fallen across her face. I smiled and brushed it back gently, not wanting to wake her.

I glanced at the clock and gingerly got up off the bed, definitely not something I wanted to do. Watching her the whole time, I slowly got dressed in one of my better suits for the interview, not forgetting to slip one of my smaller guns into the inside pocketno room for my arsenal in a blazer but it was better than nothing.

Sara stirred as I was getting ready to leave and I sat down on the bed beside her. She opened her eyes drowsily, looked me over, and said, "You look nice."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Hey, what did I say about that?" she asked, her mock indignation weakened by the sleepy tone she said it in.

I grinned. "If my memory is correct, it was something like Don't call me that!' Am I wrong?"

"No. So why did you do it?"

"It seemed fitting at the time."

"Hmmm." She snuggled deeper into the pillow.

"So, do I look the part of a job applicant?" I asked. She raised an arm and twirled her index finger, signaling me to turn around.

"Superb," she said once she was satisfied, sitting up and pulling the sheets up with her.

I sighed. She took my cheek in one hand and said, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I don't want to, but I would rather not break the engagement. It just isn't in good taste."

"And heaven forbid you do something rude," she said.

"Exactly. I'll leave that to you."

"Ooooh, nice one, Ian. Have I been rubbing off on you?" A raised eyebrow came with that remark.

"In more ways than one," I said, kissing her. She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Just wish I still was."

"You and me both. Well, you'd better get out of here, you rogue. What are you going to do until 9:30?"

"Probably just drive aroundcollect my thoughts for this encounter."

"Just don't be too charming. Don't want to lose you to a witch like her."

"Trust me, there's no comparison," I said, kissing her again and then taking her right hand, my fingers inching toward the bracelet. "This Witch is the only one I listen to."

"Other than me."

"You're not a witch, Sara."

"Then what am I? Not psycho."

"It depends on how you look at it." She glared at me. "True, some people could consider you as such, but I don't. I just think you're beautiful. And that I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world."

"Hmmm." She smiled. "I could get used to waking up and hearing this. You're spoiling me, Ian."

"I could make it a habit if you like."

"Oh, I like." She grinned

"Well, I'd better get out of here now or else I'll never leave," I said, beginning to stand, but Sara pulled me back down.

"Would that be so terrible?" she asked, catching my lips with her own. We broke apart breathless and I stood up.

"Definitely not. But I am obligated to go."

"I know," she said, pouting.

I grinned. "I'll be back soon.".

"You'd better be. I love you."

"I love you too. Be careful today."

"Aren't I always?" she asked. "Wait, don't answer that."

I laughed. "Goodbye, my love."

"Bye."

I let myself out of the apartment and closed the door, locking it behind me. I leaned back against it for a minute, fighting the part of me that wanted to run back inside, and forced myself to walk down the stairs to my car and drive away.

Time passed surprisingly quickly. I guess it's true what people say about time rushing by when you're not looking forward to something. Then it comes all the faster. As I pulled up to the all-too-familiar, formidable façade of Vorschlag Industries, an intense feeling of dread pervaded my senses. This place had been the setting of much of my life, but it had never been—and never would be—a home. I thought I had escaped its reach when I broke free of Irons, but I clearly had been mistaken. A part of me was still bound to the name, a part so miniscule I had thought it was nonexistent but it still remained and I hated myself for its presence.

I entered the building and slowly strode toward my destination, feeling like a dead man walking as I went down one of the many seemingly endless corridors. I was early so I had time to muse and prepare myself for whatever Adair Avilla would throw at mewhich could take some time and effort on my part.

As I continued on, I saw Sara in my mind. At least she believed in me. I myself wasn't sure that I could emerge from this building and still be a free man. If Irons left Adair everything, as reported, then she would have received documents pertaining to my Black Dragon backgroundand to the Witchblade.

I had reached the receptionist's desk by this time and I stopped cold. I hadn't truly considered the possibility that Adair could want the Witchblade in depth, and I wasn't sure of anything yet, but the more I thought about it the more plausible it seemed. I was about to simply leave, forget about all of this and above all keep Sara out of harm's way as much as possible —and I had even turned around in preparation for this—when a familiar voice broke through.

"Mr. Nottingham!"

My heart sank as I turned back around. The face of Gina Ramirez, whose position was obviously still intact after the new management had taken over, looked back at me.

"It's great to see you. So you're here to see Ms. Avilla?" she asked. "I think I have that written down here somewhereyeah, 9:30."

"That is correct, although I'm not even sure why I came back here. I thought I'd put this place behind me."

"I'm not sure that's possible," Gina said. "I was sitting in that cell downtown because I was a suspect in Irons's murder or death or whatever it's being ruled as, and while I was there I told myself that there was no way in hell that I'd come back here. I said I'd get as far away from this place as I possibly couldand yet here I sit. It's almost like Vorschlag calls to you"

"Something like that," I agreed, then looked at my watch and sighed. 9:27. Only three minutes to prepare for meltdown.

"Counting down?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You know, you could just leave right now and no one would know that you came—"

"Ah, Mr. Nottingham!" A cultured, refined, and extremely arrogant voice announced, and I turned towards its source. A tall woman with shoulder length white blonde hair and green eyes which could only be described as "strange" or something similar walked toward me. She wore a sleeveless black dress that hung to her ankles and hugged her framenot her curves, for there were none to be seen. She was extremely thin, so much so that she looked almost unhealthy.

"Oopsguess not," Gina muttered. I stifled a smile and instead focused on the other woman in the room. "Ms. Avilla. It's truly a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that you could make time for me today."

She waved a hand. "It was nothing. Please, let's go to my office and discuss things further in there." I started on my way, but Adair's voice stopped me.

"What do you think you're doing? Get back to work!" Her formerly smooth voice had turned positively acidic and Gina, shaking, turned back to her desk. Adair returned to where I was standing and smiled, or at least tried. Whatever the expression was, it was forced. "Shall we?"

I nodded and followed her to the end of the hall, to Irons's old office. Once we were inside, she closed the door behind us.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, Mr. Nottingham. I was looking forward to meeting you, especially after learning that you worked for my father for quite some time."

"Yes. Ms. Avilla, I apologize, but I believe I should leave. I really wasn't intending to come here."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked softly.

"I left yourfather's service because I could stand it no longer, and there hasn't been a day that I have regretted my decision to leave. I went to find a job yesterday in my line of work and the clerk made this appointment for me, but I really had no intention of accepting a position here. I apologize for wasting your time, Ms. Avilla, but I really shouldn't be here." I turned toward the door but found Adair blocking me.

"Come now, Mr. Nottingham, or may I call you Ian?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Well, then, Ian. I see no reason why you shouldn't work for me. Any disagreements you may have had with my father are over, considering he is no longer with us. And I'm certain we could come to some arrangement that would make it well worth your while."

"I'm sorry, but my answer is no. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to fill your position."

"Perhaps you don't understand where I'm coming from, Ian. This isn't just about you working for me as a bodyguard."

"Then what is it about, Ms. Avilla?"

"You know, Ian, many people in positions of power, like myself, are not simply linked to those who work for them in an employer-employee relationship. If you join me, Ian, you could have anything you would ever dream of," she said, touching my face. I backed up as though she had burned me.

"That's not true, Ms. Avilla," I said stiffly. "I already have everything I want. All encompassed in one package."

"You still don't understand, Ian," Adair said, and her voice changed timbre from "schmooze" to venom. "The way I see it, I own you. I know everything about you, from how you came to exist to how you were modified in the Black Dragon program to serve my father unconditionally. You turned out to be defective in the end, and here I am giving you another chance and you practically spit in my face."

"If I actually believed that you were being so, I would thank you for your generosity, but you're exactly like your fatherand I can see straight through you." I brushed past her and tried to leave again, but then she said something quietly. I had to strain to hear her.

"That's not all I know, of course."

I whirled and looked her in the eye. "And what else, pray tell, do you know?" I asked, eyes narrowed.

She smiled a purely evil smile. "I know about that little package that has everything you want. A very nice looking womanwho happens to have something I want. Yes, Ian, I know all about Sara Pezzini. Where she works, what her weaknesses are, and the fact that she wields the Witchblade, a truly fascinating object."

"The Blade would rather destroy itself than be placed on your wrist," I snarled.

"And I also know about how devoted you are to her," she said as though she hadn't heard me. "What you don't realize, Ian, is that I can take everything away from you with just one little move. Sara is mortal, painfully so, and if I have to, I will eliminate her. I'm not like my father in that sensehe needed her to stay alive for his own sake, his little vampire routine. Well, Ian, I'm not in that situation. In fact, Sara is worth more to me dead than alive. But if you cooperate with me, I won't lift a finger against her."

"I highly doubt that. If you want the Witchblade as much as your father did, then you would do anything to get it regardless of my cooperation. You don't scare me, Avilla, if that's what you were going for."

"You should be scared, Ian. I can make your life a hell."

"Again, I'm skeptical. I survived hell. I lived it all my life, under your father. I can take anything you throw at me, and Sara can as well."

"Then I suppose this is the time to say "This means war" or something similarly cliché," she said.

"It seems that way."

"So you won't reconsider my offer? You don't think I'm telling the truth when I say that your beloved Sara will be safe if you work for me?"
"Lady," I said, impatient and, I realized, sounding a lot like Sara, "I wouldn't believe you if your tongue came notarized." I stalked over to the door and flung it open, leaving quickly.

"This isn't over! You're going to regret your decision!" Adair screamed.

"Like hell I will," I muttered, and, after saying a quick goodbye to Gina, escaped from Vorschlag Industries.