Greetings, friends! Sorry that I've kept you all hanging so long waiting for this update, but after much consideration I decided I wasn't happy with the way the chapter was written so I decided to do a rewrite. I also apologize for bouncing around time wise, but it can't be helped. I hope you'll find this chapter worth the wait!
As usual, I don't own any of the characters from POTC; the only things I own are Jo and the current plot line, which comes from somewhere in the depths of my poor widdle overburdened brain.
Now, on to the next chapter, and
oh, before you go, if you feel like it please drop a line to let me
know what you think! All comments/constructive criticisms are very welcome here!
2:00 am……
The scraping of expensive leather shoes on the concrete floor and the whisper of silk competed against the hum of the building's massive air conditioners as the sounds echoed in the otherwise quiet wax display. A passerby who happened to notice the strange group entering the museum would have assumed that it was a Royal Personage from a 3rd world country and their entourage getting a private tour of the famous waxworks, and they would have been right in one respect. The central figure in the group was indeed royalty…..a Queen of the Dark Arts, to be specific.
Madame Benoit, dressed even more flamboyantly than when he had first spoken to her, was accompanied by two muscular, silent men in dark suits who never left her side from the moment they had left her home. The fourth man in their party was a slender, grizzled older man whom she had introduced to him simply as "her associate, Remy." The man was dressed casually in comfortable linen pants, a pale blue cotton shirt and a Panama hat, none of which could diminish the aura of power which was almost visible to the naked eye. He carried a dark brown leather case containing their "working tools", and the thought of their use this night sent a shiver of both apprehension and anticipation down Michael's spine.
The group silently approached the towering figure in the corner of the new display, and Remy gestured to one of the bodyguards, who stepped forward to hold the case while he opened it. While he slipped into a robe, Madame Benoit took the opportunity to speak to Michael.
"You do realize that once this entity is called forth, you will not have absolute control over its actions, monsieur? The blood you will shed will bind you to this creature and he will be incapable of harming you, but neither will he be obligated to serve you. It would be wise of you to try and make a pact with this being, if you have anything of value to offer him for his services."
Michael smiled smugly at the priestess and chuckled, the viciousness of the sound magnified by the height of the room. "Oh, have no fears on that account, Madame…..I think I have the one thing that our good Captain here would have a hard time passing up."
"And that is?" He turned to her and for a moment was almost lost in the inky black depths of the priestesses eyes.
"Revenge."
Jo sat brooding on the couch in her too-quiet living room, absent-mindedly stroking Nicodemus who was sprawled on his back beside her. Why did he leave so suddenly, and without even waiting around to tell me in person? Was is something I did? Something I said? Maybe I shouldn't have shown him the movie………or maybe…now that he's had me he doesn't want me anymore and is trying to make me mad so I'll throw him out……
Clutching one of the couch's soft throw pillows to her chest, she lay down on the couch, tears of worry and self doubt making a shiny silent river on her cheek, to be quickly licked away by the scratchy tongue of her loyal, furry companion.
The scene was finally set, and all was ready for the ceremony to begin.
The lid of the large chest of phony Aztec gold was set up as an alter with candles, bunches of herbs, various other strange items and a large wooden bowl, the contents of which Michael preferred to remain ignorant of. Michael had to admit he had been rather surprised when one of the items that Remy had removed from the brown case had been a tape recorder. The sound of primal drumming echoed in the room, and Remy had chuckled at Michael's expression. "Technology is a wonderful thing, no?"
They
assumed their positions, and as the older man and the priestess began
the ritual, Michael allowed his thoughts to wander. In a few
moments he would be in the presence of a being that logically should
not exist except in a writer's vivid imagination, and he would be
the one helping bring him into reality. For a moment he allowed
himself to think about Jack Sparrow and how his interference had
prevented him from ravishing Jo the previous evening, and his gut
clenched from his barely suppressed rage. 'Hope you enjoyed
your little tryst with your captain, Josie……'cause he's got a
date with a devil of my own making that he won't be coming back
from…alive, that is…..'he thought to himself, an evil grin ghosting across his face at the thought.
His attention was drawn back to the ceremony as the chanting grew louder and more intense. The temperature in the room noticeably dropped about 10 degrees, and there was a sudden tension in the air reminiscent of the last seconds before the guillotine's blade descent or the trapdoor falling at a public execution. At that moment, Remy turned and swifly drew Michael forward. Without breaking his chant, he drew Michaels left hand forward and picking up a tool from the makeshift altar, he held the imprisoned hand high above his head. Michael let out a hiss of pain as the older man swifly slashed his hand with the wickedly sharp dagger, and watched mesmerized as a gleaming rivulet of blood, his blood, dripped down into the bowl below. His eyes widened as the towering figure before them began to glow faintly as the chanting reached a fever pitch. Just when he felt he would go mad from the suspense, he felt what he could only describe as a massive tugging sensation, and the chanting suddenly ended. Remy and Madame Benoit stepped back, looking totally exhausted but pleased, leaving the museum's assistant director all alone before the altar, looking up into the gleaming black eyes of the Black Pearl's furious former captain.
"You'd best have a good explanation for pullin' me from my ship, boy.' The gravelly voice was enough to send a chill down Michael's spine as the fearsome pirate moved his cutlass to rest in the center of his chest. "It won't bother me conscience none to remove your liver and stuff it down your gullet."
Michael didn't hesitate before answering his 'guest'. "Captain Barbossa, it's an honor to finally meet you. I apologize for the abruptness of your arrival, but a situation has developed that only a man of your'---at this point Michael's thin lips formed an evil grin... "unique talent and experience could possibly handle. Pax, Captain." Michael pushed aside the cutlass blade as if it were a plastic toy light sabre. " The spell that brought you here has tied us together, and should you try to harm me, you'll find that there will be serious….repercussions." Michael noticed almost as an afterthought that the priestess and her companions had vanished almost as if by magic, leaving behind only the scent of blood and incense.
Barbossa growled out a curse and sheathed the cutlass, stepping down off the display and moving with remarkable grace for one so tall. He stopped in front of Michael, his eyes sweeping the quiet room before settling his dark gaze back on Michael. "Ye haven't answered me question, cur, and you'd better hope I like your answer or you'll be shark bait, spell or no."
'Damn…I can see how he kept his crew in line….he can't hurt me, and yet he intimidates the piss out of me…' "The situation involves someone whom you have had quite a history with, Captain Barbossa…an impudent fellow who goes by the name of Captain Jack Sparrow."
Before he could take his next breath, Michael found himself hauled up by the lapels of his imported Italian suit, dangling inches away from those inky black spheres which danced with unearthly flames of fury as he hissed out three short words.
"Where…is…he…?"
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Later that day…approximately 11 am…..
After several hours of restful sleep in his luxury suite, Captain Jack Sparrow had just cashed in his slip and was preparing to leave with his winnings and new clothes in a shoulder bag when there was a commotion at the casino entrance. Jack observed a long while Hummer limousine pulling up outside and gawked as a very familiar-looking man stepped out, only to be immediately surrounded by autograph hounds and paparazzi. With the help of his own bodyguards and hotel security, Jack's slender doppelganger was quickly escorted into the casino entryway just as the real thing was walking out. Upon seeing Jack, the man did a quick double take and told the person he was chatting with on his cell phone that he would call them back. The two men gave each other a careful once-over and both broke into eerily similar grins. Jack took the initiative and spoke first,
"So I'd be guessing that you are the handsome devil that all these folks hereabouts keep mistakin' me for, ay?"
Johnny whistled and shook his head, a dumbfounded grin crossing his face as he replied, extending his hand. "Johnny Depp, in the flesh. I've got to tell you, but hang me, you're the best dead ringer for Jack Sparrow that I've ever come across, and trust me, I've seen plenty."
Jack shook his hand and smiled warily. "That's Captain Sparrow, if you don't mind, and beggin' your pardon, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't say 'dead' and 'hang' in the same sentence around me. Makes me nervous. Bad memories. Not good." At this point, Jack held his hands up and wiggled his fingers in a nervous manner.
Johnny broke into laughter and grinned wider still. "This is fantastic. You've even got me voice down" he said, dropping into character for a moment. "This is so unreal it's almost scary. Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we could round up a couple of friendly females for a bit o' fun later. That would be a trip."
Jack smiled regretfully before declining. Much as he'd like to stay and chat with his lookalike, he figured he'd best be getting back to Jo before she came hunting him. "Appreciate the offer, mate, but I've got a certain lady that I need to get back to wooing." Glancing up, he spotted the familiar form of the guest coordinator heading their way, a very strange, starled look upon his face. Realizing that he needed to make a quick getaway, he grinned back at Johnny and couldn't resist one last comment as he headed toward the exit. "Besides, lad, t'wouldn't be fitting for me to compete with you over the ladies…that and m'poor ego couldn't take the beatin' if ya won!" Giving Johnny a jaunty salute, he slipped from the casino and disappeared into the milling crowd, leaving the actor to deal with a very confused VIP Host.
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11 am at Jo's apartment……
Jo literally flew up off the couch when someone knocked at the door, startling Nicodemus into a barking frenzy. She threw open the locks, and began her tirade before she even got the door partway open. "Jack, where the hell have you…" she spat, then gasped. "Oh, God, I'm sorry Bethany, I thought you were someone else….please, come in. I was…expecting..."
"You were expecting Captain Jack Sparrow, perhaps?"
"Wha…how did you...….you KNOW?" Jo closed the door behind her guest and followed her into the living room where she landed back on the couch with a thump, clutching her reclaimed pillow to her chest.
Bethany settled herself on the couch beside Jo before answering, petting the now ecstatic Nicodemus on his soft belly. "Well, considering that the wax figure you spent months working on disappeared from the museum, the recent disturbances in the ley lines around Vegas, and the fact that you have the aura of a well-satiated feline in heat about you, the only logical conclusion is that your paraffin stud muffin has suddenly gained a pulse. Am I close?"
All Jo could do is blush and nod dumbly at her friend, not fully comprehending her words at first. "He's alive and kicking, all right, at least until I get my hands on him again, at which time I might just take him out, and I'm not talking dinner and a movie! He took off last night while I was in the shower…his note said he had to 'clear his head' and 'do some thinking', and I'm worried half to death about him." Jo growled in frustration and pounded the pillow in her lap. And then the words sank in finally, and she gave her friend a wondering look. " Did you say…ley lines? Isn't that a term used in fantasy books when they talk about .." her voice trailed off , and looked at her friend in confusion.
Bethany chuckled and grinned at her friend. "Magic? Yes, indeed it is and that is the term I used. Even low level mages like myself can see them and notice fluxes in the flow of magic. The ones near here are powerful strong…makes me glad that I'm not strong enough to use them." She smiled even wider when she saw the look of utter disbelief on Jo's face, and laughed. "Come on, Jo…This is VEGAS! Don't tell me you thought that EVERYTHING you see on stages across this town was merely illusion?"
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TBC
(A/N: Just a few quick things I want to mention. First off, I have no personal knowledge of Voodoo, so I just used my imagination to try and create what it would be like to the best of my ability. Also, regarding Jack and Johnny's conversations and the invitation to go catting around…I do know that Johnny Depp is married(at least he was last time I heard!) and has children, and I am by no means attempting to slander him and/or make him out to be an adulterer. So, that being said, if JD should somehow manage to read this, I apologize if I offended you and please don't sue me because I'm really, really poor.….t'was done only for sake of the story!)
Coming up next----Will the man from Jack's past destroy any chance for him and Jo's future together? See you next time!