(7) Invading The Mind Palace

Lestrade looked around as another cruiser showed up & two people got out. "There you are," he began. "You're both three hours late."

"Sorry, Sir," they replied at the same time.

"Last night," Anderson started. "We just—we uh, I mean ... "

"It was amazing," Lestrade helped the poor man out. "I feel younger & invigorated after that. It got crazy as it went on." He then glared at the pair. "Don't be late again." Both shrank from his gaze. Lestrade ended up laughing at them.

"What happened here?" Donovan snapped at him.

"Had you going for a bit, didn't I?" Lestrade teased before going serious. "But I mean it, don't be late again." He turned to the burned out building still smoking. "The entire thing went up in flames during the night. John's not going to like this. They were supposed to send me the security footage today but now ... "

"There's nothing left of this hotel," Anderson moved a little closer. He choked on the smoke & stepped back. "Did anyone get out?"

"Most did," said Lestrade. "But seven didn't make it."

"Why are we here?" Anderson asked.

"Sherlock insists it's arson," said Lestrade. "Which means possible murders." All three glanced up as they heard cracking. Several burned boards crashed down to the ground. A long icy wing was sticking out of a hole four floors up. "OY!" Lestrade bellowed. "Want to be a bit more careful, Sherlock?! We're down here!"

The wing was pulled inside out of sight & Sherlock's head appeared in its place. He looked down at the three cops & then glanced to their left. He jumped down, using his wings to gently flutter to the spot near them. "None of it makes any sense," Sherlock said, putting his wings away. "I can't find a connection among any of the ones that died yet, other than the fact they all used this hotel."

"Which is the same hotel of that murder we worked on the other day," said Lestrade.

"No, that was a separate case," Sherlock grabbed his coat from the roof of Lestrade's cruiser & put it on, then took out his mobile. "It might take some time to figure this one out," Sherlock said after finishing whatever text he had been doing. He looked pointedly at Lestrade. "Do you plan to come over to the flat, soon?"

"Sure," Lestrade nodded. "When you call me with some ideas, I could pop over."

Sherlock looked the cop over, as if confused by something, but he was soon distracted by his mobile dinging. "That might be a while."

"Let me know when you figure it out," Lestrade began as Sherlock walked away, lost to the Mind Palace. Lestrade watched him go for a moment before turning to Donovan & Anderson. "Well, there isn't much more we can do until he figures it out. Let's get back & wait for his call."

Back at the 221B flat, John waited silently in his chair as Sherlock paced, working the case over in his mind. "Could it be connected to your Beltane festival, last night?" John tried to offer after twenty minutes of watching Sherlock fuss. Sherlock stopped & stared at him. "Well, the hotel manager is a vampire," John pointed out. "I don't know if he was at your castle or not, though."

Sherlock dropped into his chair & shoved both hands through his curls, flattening them for a moment. "God, I hope not! That would be an even bigger mess to sort through."

"But you are certain it is arson & not an accident."

"Of course, I am," Sherlock muttered. "But why? I can't find any point to burn down that hotel."

"I wish they had waited until tomorrow," John muttered out loud.

"Why?"

"Uh, nothing," John shrugged. "I think Greg wanted the security cameras of yesterday for something, but now it's all gone." Sherlock stared at him & then was suddenly gone into the Mind Palace once more.

Sherlock stood inside the burning hotel. He could see it blow up & the floors disintegrate around him apart from his stage he was standing on.

"Quite the mess, this one," said Mycroft.

Sherlock glared at the disturbance. "Of course, you'd show up. My Mind Palace is rather ashy at the moment."

"I'm touched you even have me stashed in here," Mycroft replied.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked as he went through the rooms with the burned bodies.

"It's your head, not mine," Mycroft fiddled with his umbrella for a moment. "You tell me."

"Go away," Sherlock complained.

Mycroft didn't go away. He followed even more closely. "Admit it. You miss me."

"I miss your expertise in the Secret Service," Sherlock said. "It proved rather useful at times."

"Rubbish," Mycroft scoffed. The area exploded into ash which shifted to the other side & settled, revealing Mycroft once more. His wings were out & he preened one for a moment before saying, "You can get the same expertise from Sherrinford." He leaned back against a charred pillar, curling one wing around him. He grasped a point & inspected it. "How's that Watson Were of yours?" Sherlock rolled his eyes & glared red at the memory file of Mycroft, taunting him. "Well, he did avenge me & end the blood war & cured our sister," Mycroft went on. "Can't I at least ask how he's doing?"

"He's fine," Sherlock snapped, crouching down at the remains of the lobby's front desk. He watched it burn. "I think one of the charges was under this desk."

"He's recently widowed," Mycroft started attending to his other wing. "I highly doubt he is fine."

"I'm taking care of him," Sherlock moved to the stairs.

"Oh really?" Mycroft raised a brow, holding on to the ridge he was currently working on. "Like how you're taking care of Miss Adler."

Sherlock's Palace changed to a light gray nothingness for both of them to stand in. "Why are you bringing her up?"

"First, you nip her away to safety from right under my nose, then you turn her."

"She ASKED me to!"

"You've ignored her ever since."

"She's a vampire now & I don't do vampires," Sherlock defended, opening his own wings. They quivered with impatience. "You bloody well know why!"

"Yes, Will," A woman's voice began as someone else appeared next to Mycroft. "We all know why."

"Elizabet!" Sherlock guiltily closed his wings all too quickly as if it mattered if she saw him in this state.

"It's been a few centuries since I've been brought into view in this Palace," Elizabet said. "But I'm always in here. You have me locked up tight. After all, you built it just for me. You never had one before I died."

"You would not have approved of the monster he," Sherlock pointed at Mycroft. "turned us all into just before you & the children died. I'm trying to keep you away from that."

"This is your place," Elizabet said. "I would automatically approve of anything you do."

"Still sore about that," Mycroft sighed. "Aren't you ever going to forgive me, brother mine?"

"Stop it, both of you! I'm working a case right now & you're both getting in my way."

"What's the matter, Sherly-curly?" Mycroft teased. "Can't concentrate?"

Sherlock groaned in annoyance. "UGH! If only I had time to finish all that cocaine before John showed up."

"You left him alone out there in the flat," Elizabet said. "I hope he doesn't get into your mess while you're in here. You know how that stuff affects Lycans."

"He won't find it," Sherlock muttered. "He started reading something just as I came in here." The Palace changed to a look into the flat, showing the cocaine plain as day on the table. All John had to do was glance up & find it. Sherlock rubbed his temples. "I need to get back to the hotel." He changed the stage. But instead of a blackened hotel, he now found himself on a bed, handcuffed to the posts.

"Well, this is getting interesting," Mycroft teased.

Sherlock looked at Elizabet. "You're doing this."

"How?" Elizabet asked. "Those things didn't exist in our time, back then."

"Pretty sure it's someone else doing it," said Mycroft.

"Quit distracting me or I will change the stage to scare you away."

"What could you possibly have in your Palace that would scare me?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Ohh, there is something in here just for you," Sherlock said, kicking off the bed covers, not caring that either of them saw him naked. Wouldn't be the first time & anyway, this was his private Palace after all, even if it wasn't behaving properly at the moment. Blaming the cocaine, he finally got control & brought out the stage he wanted by pushing the one with the bed sideways & then reaching over & grabbing the bow of a ship & pulled it in. He was suddenly dressed in a very particular uniform. Elizabet smiled at him for a moment before wandering off into some other area. Sherlock lost sight of her as he leaned back into the bow, arms spread out over the railing on either side. "Nice day, isn't it?" Sherlock sent his dead brother a wicked fanged grin. The setting sun reflected its rays off the open Atlantic ocean & the windows of the Titanic. "Her last few hours in the sun. We both know what happens next. Almost two thousand people are going to die in just a few hours."

"That's not funny!" Mycroft turned into ashes & disappeared at last.

"Wasn't going for amusing," Sherlock said, touching the rim of his White Star Line cap. "Now, I can concentr—oh come on!" Irene was now standing next to him, totally undressed, in the tip of the bow as Titanic steamed ahead to her doom.

"Mmm, I do love a man in uniform," Irene surveyed him as she moved closer, letting her violet wings flow out behind her.

"What do YOU want, Woman?"

"Do you think he'll do it?" Irene asked.

"Who & what?" Sherlock ground out.

"Lestrade," said Irene. "Do you really think he'll do it?" She leaned up against his chest, pressing those breasts of hers as close as possible to him.

"Mycroft sent you here to torture me, didn't he?"

"Do you want me to torture you? It's been a long time."

"Not now, Woman! Get out!"

"It's your own mind, Sherlock," Irene said, leaning sideways a little to look down into the waves. "We are the only two on this ship right now." She started sliding her hands down his sides.

Sherlock rolled his eyes so hard, his shoulders rolled right along with him. "That's it," He put his hands on her soft shoulders to push her aside. "I'm going back to John." He jumped a little as he returned to reality.

John saw him. "You alright?"

Sherlock let out a derisive laugh. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" John pressed. "You moaned a little in the end. Sounded like you were in pain."

"I said I'm fine."

"Ok," John stood up & stretched a little before making his way to the kitchen. Looking into his left palm, he could see the intricate tiny pen appear as he thought again of his most recent vision. He fell against the counter, gripping its edge near the sink as he tried to force the vision back. He could see a bit of it, the lance being thrown forward, a vampire's wing ridge, obviously. He heard the glass-shattering like sound.

"JOHN!" Sherlock's voice snapped him out of it. "What's wrong with you?"

John found himself sitting on the floor, a smashed teacup spread around him. He grabbed Sherlock's offered hand & pulled himself up. "I wasn't watching where I was going," he tried.

Sherlock cocked his head sideways for a moment. "Did you imprint something?"

How to get out of this one? Or perhaps he should tell him now since the cameras were destroyed & they were all now blind to the fact that Sherrinford & Sherlock were once more being stalked to death. He moved around Sherlock & ended up by the table. "Uh Sherlock, I need to tell you something," He passed his hand over the table top. It had a long streak of some sort of white powder along one edge. Some got on his fingers & John sniffed it. "What is ... whoa ho! What IS this?"

Sherlock grinned quickly at him. "Oh John! You might want to lie down for a bit."

"Oh!" John spun around, blinking hard, his eyes turning a brilliant gold. "Sh-Sherlock!"

"One whiff & you're out!" Sherlock laughed. "Cocaine has a strange effect on Lycans."

"COCAINE?!" John's eyes went wide.

"I, on the other hand," Sherlock ignored his outburst. "Have to take enough to kill a horse just to get high for five minutes. Vampire healing powers. Very quick, you know. Oh, how I envy you, John. It's hard for someone like me to get high. Not impossible, but hard. All that mist at Baskerville was enough to do me in for a while." Meanwhile, John was stumbling about, trying to find his balance.

"SHERLOCK!" John fell into the amused vampire's arms.

Sherlock dragged John back to his chair & dumped him there. John groaned, leaning forward & then back, tipping his head back against the chair. His glazed eyes stared at the ceiling. He bared his more pointed teeth at the hallucinations dancing in his mind. "John's headed on a trip," Sherlock was still dying of laughter.

It wasn't for another hour before John came to. His first words were, "I hate you. So much! Right now." Sherlock took that to mean 'laugh more' much to John's displeasure. John sighed heavily. "When the hell did you start using cocaine?"

"A few centuries ago," Sherlock said.

"If Greg finds out!"

"You're not going to tell him," Sherlock said. "Are you?" John just glared as Sherlock added, "We've all had cocaine at some point in time. It was quite the thing back in the day & it was good for Mycroft. It helped him when he came back from the Titanic."

"Ohh God!" John gasped. "Don't get me involved with that stuff!" He snapped. "Ever & get rid of it before Greg shows up! What is WRONG with you?" John glared ahead, eyes still semi-gold, as Sherlock disappeared from his view. He suddenly heard him sniffing. John ground his teeth.

Sherlock came back. "All gone now."

John just glared at him. "I really want to turn you to ash, right now."

"Would you relax?" Sherlock was still laughing at him. "I can't over dose. I can barely get high to begin with. Being a vampire has its disadvantages. I'll be fine!"

John shook his head. "Well, did you at least find something in that Mind Palace of yours?"

"Oh, loads of stuff," Sherlock replied. "None of it relevant to the case, though. I kept getting invaded by everyone." John stared at him for a moment before smacking himself in the face with his hand & groaning.

Sherlock spent the next three days trying to sort things out. Whenever John was back at the flat, he often caught Sherlock staring at the door, as if expecting someone. John sorted through some papers Sherlock had collected before asking, "Are we expecting company?"

"Yes, Lestrade."

"Oh, you called him, then."

"No."

John blinked. "Did he call you?"

"No."

John sat back in his chair. "Did you do something bad like, I don't know, have more cocaine here & he found out & is coming to arrest you?"

Sherlock bared fangs & hissed at him. "No!"

"Don't you hiss at me!" John ordered. "You're being a bad bat again, aren't you?"

"I'M NOT A BAT!" Sherlock snarled. "I'm just expecting him to show up. I've not done anything."

"Then why would he come over before you have something to give him about this burned hotel?"

Sherlock looked at the door again. "I honestly thought he would come. Oh well. No matter. John, have you managed to find out why he wanted those security tapes?"

"Oh," John instantly found the paperwork a lot more interesting. "You finally remember that."

"I never forgot," said Sherlock. "I asked you about it, yesterday."

John wasn't there yesterday, but he was used to this by now. He pushed the papers aside. "Yeah. I know. We really need to talk about that. I was hoping to know more before telling you but now that the footage is all gone ... " Sherlock had his fingertips under his chin as he stared at John with cold unblinking eyes by the time John had finished retelling his latest vision. John sat in his chair opposite from Sherlock again. "So I gotta ask: What the hell are you & Shane mixed up in to warrant the death penalty from the Undead Law?"

Sherlock finally blinked in slow motion. "Nothing. I haven't spoken to him since the Beltane."

"Merlin doesn't think so either & Shane's just as stumped as I am," John said. "I just thought I'd ask."

"Have you told Enola about this?"

"I don't really see the point, right now," John shrugged. "She's not part of the vision. She's not a vampire, any more." he hesitated before adding, "There's something else. I don't know how. I've been focusing on this imprint a lot, trying to find a way to fix it. Maybe I'm getting stronger with imprinting. Sherlock? It's going to happen in six weeks."

"Six weeks?" Sherlock echoed. "The Undead Law has to be absolutely sure before destroying someone. Like with Dracula. But if there is any doubt, it could take centuries. Are you absolutely sure it will be in six weeks?"

"I don't know how I know that," said John. "But as of today, since the last time I tried working on the imprinted pen, I just feel like it will be six weeks from now." A long moment of silence passed. "Sherlock, please say something."

Sherlock stood up & headed for the door. "I need to find Robert."

"Who's that?"

"The vampire who was the manager of that hotel," Sherlock put on his coat & headed downstairs. John had no choice but to follow.

They spent the next hour going all over London as Sherlock went through his Homeless Network. Leaving the cab behind at last, Sherlock strode across the second floor of a covered parking lot, lay on his side at the far end & rolled under the railing to drop down to the main ground. John looked at the height. It was rather high & he couldn't glide like a vampire. Sherlock had landed lightly on his feet like a cat but John wasn't so sure.

"Sherlock?"

"Come on," Sherlock looked up at him. "I'll catch you."

John rolled under the railing. Unfortunately, he did not see the other vampire that had dropped in beside Sherlock at that precise moment. Even more unfortunate, the other vampire had distracted Sherlock at that exact same moment. "Whoa-AHH!"

"I heard you were looking for me, Detective Holmes?" Robert asked.

Crash!

"Yes, I was," Sherlock began. "What was on your security cameras just before the fire started?"

"Uhh!" John floundered around, stumbling to his feet.

"I'm not sure," Robert said. "The cops wanted to identify someone from the lobby, but it's all gone now."

"Stupid vampires!" John whined under breath as he slowly stood straight.

"In that case, I need a list of the visitors during that week."

"Even that will be hard to round up," Robert said. "I have some back up files on my home computer, but I usually back up just once a month & I don't have anything new yet."

"Send me any names who had booked for that week if you can."

"Will do," Robert said. "Evening, Watson." At that, he spread azure wings & took off to the sky.

"Oh, right!" Sherlock turned around, facing a golden glare.

John grabbed Sherlock by the scarf & yanked him forward so that they were nose to nose. "What happened to the part where you catch me?" He growled. "Hmm?" Sherlock grinned nervously.

John's inner wolf was still showing through his eyes on the entire ride home. His healing powers cleared things up soon enough, but he was still a bit sore, in more ways than one. Before getting out of the cab, Sherlock pulled out a tin of honeycomb & offered the grumpy werewolf a piece to appease him. John took it, grumbling under breath, but he took it. He finally got out, letting Sherlock return to the flat by himself. Molly showed up with Derek & Jessica about twenty minutes later. Once she was gone, John decided all three of them would get to bed early. He had a feeling this case would crack wide open sooner than later & knowing Sherlock, there would be little time to rest.

Standing on the front steps, Sherlock glanced up into the early night sky. A quarter moon shone down on him. Sherlock went inside & up the stairs. He stopped on the top step & stared in surprise. Someone was standing by his door, waiting for him. "... You ... ?"