--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary--
Chapter VI
"Invocation of, and sacrifice to demons is especially evil."- the Book of Medieval Witchcraft
Amon pulled his sleek black Audi up to the curb, then stared out the widow at the apartment complex across the street. It was just outside the Walled City; not quite a part of the slums, but run down enough that it almost could be. Opening his laptop, he pulled up the file on Miguel Rodriguez. A photograph of him showed a tall, smiling young man, dressed in an expensive, well-cut suit, his jet-black hair slicked back, with a few rebellious strands hanging over his tanned forehead. Why would such a man be living in one of the shadiest, poorest areas of Tokyo?
Amon looked over to see Robin peering at the computer screen, her brows furrowed in thought. Amon quickly snapped the laptop closed, startling the young woman. She eyed him a bit reproachfully, then followed him as he stepped out of the car. Zaizen had instructed him not to let Robin get too involved, and he had no choice but to follow those orders. For now, anyway.
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Karasuma glanced over at her partner, who was still staring sulkily out of the window, then turned off the car's engine and got out. Sakaki muttered a few unintelligible phrases under his breath before following suit. Karasuma smiled bemusedly at his antics, then walked briskly up to the door of the small, one-story house.
"I still don't see why I couldn't have taken my motorcycle," Sakaki grumbled as he joined her. Karasuma rolled her eyes at him, then turned and knocked on the door, noticing the cracked, peeling red paint.
"Look, Haruto, I've already explained it to you," she said crisply, turning back to face the petulant younger man. "It's a waste of gas--which, I'll remind you, the STN-J is nice enough to pay for--and it would attract unnecessary attention."
"I know, I know," Sakaki replied, scuffing the dirty porch with the toe of his sneaker. "But I like driving myself."
Boys, Karasuma thought, sighing inwardly. She quickly plastered a bright smile on her face as the door to the house finally cracked open.
"Can I help you?" A woman with a distinct Spanish accent said cautiously, peering at the two Hunters from behind the door. Karasuma and Sakaki exchanged a glance. Michael's information hadn't mentioned anything about a woman.
"Er-yes," Karasuma recovered, holding out a hand, which the woman did not accept. Karasuma withdrew it, and continued. "I'm with the Channel Ten News, and me and my partner here were wondering if we might speak with a Mister Menendez?" She smiled reassuringly, and handed the woman one of the false business cards Michael had made for her. This time, the woman reached out one slender, braceleted arm, and gingerly took it.
"He . . . isn't here right now. What do you want to talk to him about?"
"I'm doing an exclusive on immigrating to Japan, and I heard he moved here a few years ago," Karasuma replied, manufacturing the lie with a speed that surprised even herself. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, and suppressed a smile when she saw Sakaki eagerly clutching a pen and notepad, every inch the eager reporter. "But you seem to know him, did you move here as well? I could interview you instead."
"Yes, I moved here with Luis two years ago. I'm his fiancé." The woman replied, seeming somewhat reluctant to give up this tidbit of information.
"Well, if you wouldn't mind just answering a few quick questions Miss-?"
"Perez."
"Miss Perez?" Karasuma gave the woman a hopeful look, and her eyes shifted nervously from her to Sakaki.
"I'm sorry, I really don't have time." She replied hurriedly, moving to shut the door. Karasuma stepped forward to stop her, placing a hand on the doorframe. The woman's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, and fear.
"It really won't take long, and it would be a big help to me," she pleaded.
"No, I'm sorry. I have errands to run. If you'll excuse me." She handed the business card back to Karasuma, a clear indication that she did not want them to return, then hastily shut the door, a sound which was soon followed by the click of a lock.
"Well, so much for that," Sakaki muttered. "She wasn't much help at all."
Karasuma held up the business card, a bit wrinkled and moist from the woman's sweat-soaked hands. A faint smile crossed her lips as she felt the traces of emotions lurking on the paper's surface. "Oh, it wasn't a total waste."
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- - -
Amon and Robin climbed up the narrow staircase that led to the fifth floor, where Miguel Rodriguez's apartment was located. Robin lifted her skirts to avoid the trash and other refuse that cluttered the stairs. It never ceased to astound her how people could live like this. But, she reflected, as the round, dirt-streaked face of a child peered out at her from a doorway, not everyone had a choice.
Amon had stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, and was looking at her expectantly. She gave the little boy a slight smile, then hurried to meet her partner. Once she was at his side, he turned and rapped loudly on the door.
To Robin's surprise, it opened almost immediately. Without warning, Amon grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backwards, slamming both of them roughly onto the cluttered ground. She let out a groan, her hands stinging through her gloves from sliding along the carpet. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Amon sitting with his back to her, shielding her with his body, his Orbo gun trained on the man in the doorway, who had a rifle pointed at the two of them.
"I had a feeling you'd be by," Miguel Rodriguez snarled through a thick accent. Robin slowly rolled onto her back and sat up behind Amon, rubbing her elbows and knees, which also stung form the impact. Noticing that the man's attention was focused on Amon, who had the gun, she carefully slipped a hand into her pocket, grabbing her spectacles.
"I would not move if I were you, senorita. Unless you would like a rather large hole right between your eyes." Rodriguez warned, waving the rifle at her menacingly. Robin froze, sweat beading on her forehead as she slowly removed her hand form her pocket. She could try to hit him with her fire craft from here, but what if she missed? She could hit Amon, or worse, burn down the entire building, leaving all the occupants homeless.
"Put the gun down," Amon said calmly. "We only want to talk to you."
"Heh, like you talked to Cortez?" Rodriguez scoffed.
"What?" Amon exclaimed.
"I know you were paid to come here for me, just like someone paid to kill Cortez!" Rodriguez yelled, his voice growing more and more panicked. Robin was becoming more frightened as well. Even with her power, she couldn't stop him if he shot at Amon, and he wasn't a witch, so besides irritating him even further, the Orbo was useless.
In a blur of movement, Amon braced one hand on the ground and kicked upward, knocking the gun out of Rodriguez's hands and sending it clattering to the floor several feet away. The man panicked and turned to scramble after the weapon, but Amon was on his feet in a flash. He leapt in front of the man with catlike grace, clubbing him over the head with the butt of his gun. Robin breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Getting to her feet, she dusted herself off, then gazed at Amon curiously as he began dragging the man back into the apartment.
"What are you doing?" She inquired.
"Taking him back inside," Amon replied, not even out of breath from all the sudden exertion. "We still have to question him."
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A/n: Well, the horrible end-of-the-year term paper is pretty much over, which means I'll have more time to write. I'm really trying to get chapters out as soon as I can, but writer's block strikes unexpectedly and without mercy! I'm getting there, though, so please keep reading, don't give up on me!
Chapter VI
"Invocation of, and sacrifice to demons is especially evil."- the Book of Medieval Witchcraft
Amon pulled his sleek black Audi up to the curb, then stared out the widow at the apartment complex across the street. It was just outside the Walled City; not quite a part of the slums, but run down enough that it almost could be. Opening his laptop, he pulled up the file on Miguel Rodriguez. A photograph of him showed a tall, smiling young man, dressed in an expensive, well-cut suit, his jet-black hair slicked back, with a few rebellious strands hanging over his tanned forehead. Why would such a man be living in one of the shadiest, poorest areas of Tokyo?
Amon looked over to see Robin peering at the computer screen, her brows furrowed in thought. Amon quickly snapped the laptop closed, startling the young woman. She eyed him a bit reproachfully, then followed him as he stepped out of the car. Zaizen had instructed him not to let Robin get too involved, and he had no choice but to follow those orders. For now, anyway.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Karasuma glanced over at her partner, who was still staring sulkily out of the window, then turned off the car's engine and got out. Sakaki muttered a few unintelligible phrases under his breath before following suit. Karasuma smiled bemusedly at his antics, then walked briskly up to the door of the small, one-story house.
"I still don't see why I couldn't have taken my motorcycle," Sakaki grumbled as he joined her. Karasuma rolled her eyes at him, then turned and knocked on the door, noticing the cracked, peeling red paint.
"Look, Haruto, I've already explained it to you," she said crisply, turning back to face the petulant younger man. "It's a waste of gas--which, I'll remind you, the STN-J is nice enough to pay for--and it would attract unnecessary attention."
"I know, I know," Sakaki replied, scuffing the dirty porch with the toe of his sneaker. "But I like driving myself."
Boys, Karasuma thought, sighing inwardly. She quickly plastered a bright smile on her face as the door to the house finally cracked open.
"Can I help you?" A woman with a distinct Spanish accent said cautiously, peering at the two Hunters from behind the door. Karasuma and Sakaki exchanged a glance. Michael's information hadn't mentioned anything about a woman.
"Er-yes," Karasuma recovered, holding out a hand, which the woman did not accept. Karasuma withdrew it, and continued. "I'm with the Channel Ten News, and me and my partner here were wondering if we might speak with a Mister Menendez?" She smiled reassuringly, and handed the woman one of the false business cards Michael had made for her. This time, the woman reached out one slender, braceleted arm, and gingerly took it.
"He . . . isn't here right now. What do you want to talk to him about?"
"I'm doing an exclusive on immigrating to Japan, and I heard he moved here a few years ago," Karasuma replied, manufacturing the lie with a speed that surprised even herself. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, and suppressed a smile when she saw Sakaki eagerly clutching a pen and notepad, every inch the eager reporter. "But you seem to know him, did you move here as well? I could interview you instead."
"Yes, I moved here with Luis two years ago. I'm his fiancé." The woman replied, seeming somewhat reluctant to give up this tidbit of information.
"Well, if you wouldn't mind just answering a few quick questions Miss-?"
"Perez."
"Miss Perez?" Karasuma gave the woman a hopeful look, and her eyes shifted nervously from her to Sakaki.
"I'm sorry, I really don't have time." She replied hurriedly, moving to shut the door. Karasuma stepped forward to stop her, placing a hand on the doorframe. The woman's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, and fear.
"It really won't take long, and it would be a big help to me," she pleaded.
"No, I'm sorry. I have errands to run. If you'll excuse me." She handed the business card back to Karasuma, a clear indication that she did not want them to return, then hastily shut the door, a sound which was soon followed by the click of a lock.
"Well, so much for that," Sakaki muttered. "She wasn't much help at all."
Karasuma held up the business card, a bit wrinkled and moist from the woman's sweat-soaked hands. A faint smile crossed her lips as she felt the traces of emotions lurking on the paper's surface. "Oh, it wasn't a total waste."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - -
Amon and Robin climbed up the narrow staircase that led to the fifth floor, where Miguel Rodriguez's apartment was located. Robin lifted her skirts to avoid the trash and other refuse that cluttered the stairs. It never ceased to astound her how people could live like this. But, she reflected, as the round, dirt-streaked face of a child peered out at her from a doorway, not everyone had a choice.
Amon had stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, and was looking at her expectantly. She gave the little boy a slight smile, then hurried to meet her partner. Once she was at his side, he turned and rapped loudly on the door.
To Robin's surprise, it opened almost immediately. Without warning, Amon grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backwards, slamming both of them roughly onto the cluttered ground. She let out a groan, her hands stinging through her gloves from sliding along the carpet. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Amon sitting with his back to her, shielding her with his body, his Orbo gun trained on the man in the doorway, who had a rifle pointed at the two of them.
"I had a feeling you'd be by," Miguel Rodriguez snarled through a thick accent. Robin slowly rolled onto her back and sat up behind Amon, rubbing her elbows and knees, which also stung form the impact. Noticing that the man's attention was focused on Amon, who had the gun, she carefully slipped a hand into her pocket, grabbing her spectacles.
"I would not move if I were you, senorita. Unless you would like a rather large hole right between your eyes." Rodriguez warned, waving the rifle at her menacingly. Robin froze, sweat beading on her forehead as she slowly removed her hand form her pocket. She could try to hit him with her fire craft from here, but what if she missed? She could hit Amon, or worse, burn down the entire building, leaving all the occupants homeless.
"Put the gun down," Amon said calmly. "We only want to talk to you."
"Heh, like you talked to Cortez?" Rodriguez scoffed.
"What?" Amon exclaimed.
"I know you were paid to come here for me, just like someone paid to kill Cortez!" Rodriguez yelled, his voice growing more and more panicked. Robin was becoming more frightened as well. Even with her power, she couldn't stop him if he shot at Amon, and he wasn't a witch, so besides irritating him even further, the Orbo was useless.
In a blur of movement, Amon braced one hand on the ground and kicked upward, knocking the gun out of Rodriguez's hands and sending it clattering to the floor several feet away. The man panicked and turned to scramble after the weapon, but Amon was on his feet in a flash. He leapt in front of the man with catlike grace, clubbing him over the head with the butt of his gun. Robin breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Getting to her feet, she dusted herself off, then gazed at Amon curiously as he began dragging the man back into the apartment.
"What are you doing?" She inquired.
"Taking him back inside," Amon replied, not even out of breath from all the sudden exertion. "We still have to question him."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/n: Well, the horrible end-of-the-year term paper is pretty much over, which means I'll have more time to write. I'm really trying to get chapters out as soon as I can, but writer's block strikes unexpectedly and without mercy! I'm getting there, though, so please keep reading, don't give up on me!