Author's Notes: Okay, not quite as long of a wait this time. That's good. This past week didn't get off to a good start. On Sunday, I was pulling out of my driveway to head to Mass when I realized something didn't sound right. Drew the car to a halt and discovered I had a flat tire (as in, completely deflated). I ran over a nail sometime last Friday. So, on Sunday, I had my first experience changing a tire. It's a strangely empowering experience. So, the week didn't start particularly well, but it ended on a very positive note: I'm one of four employees in my department who will be receiving a raise. Still not sure about how much of a raise it'll be, but it's my first raise since I first started working there three years ago, and I'm absolutely thrilled about it. Oh, and I'm only thirty-four days out from DragonCon, and this year's show is shaping up to be awesome. And yeah, I admit it … I say that every year. I mean it every year, too. So, in this chapter, Derek Rayne tells Nick Boyle about his daughter; Kat refuses to act her age (and drags Anne down with her ... literally); while Anne drops a bombshell on her extended Musketeer family. You'll see the fallout from it (and from someone unexpected) in the next chapter.
Reviewer Responses:
A reader: Good to see you back … was starting to worry about you! You wanna know a secret? While I know where I'm going, more or less, I have no idea how I'm getting there! I feel like I've taken a detour/scenic route with which I'm not even remotely familiar.
Chapter Four
To Set Herself Free
San Francisco Legacy House
Three weeks later
Secret Room in Library
He wasn't entirely surprised when his former protégé entered his secret room, saying quietly, "You were the one who covered up Anne de Brueil with a blanket on her first night here, aren't you?" Derek Rayne turned to face the younger man. Nick looked confused, rather than angry. That was promising. He'd been on the receiving end of Nick's temper many times in the past and right now, Derek simply didn't feel like dealing with it … his nightly visits from his demented ancestress were difficult enough to handle. Instead, he inclined his head and Nick exhaled slowly. However, Nick's next question was one he could have never anticipated as the precept of San Francisco House asked, "So, why didn't you take her to bed?"
Derek didn't answer … just let the arch of his brows and the curve of his lips say everything that needed to be said. Nick actually face-palmed, muttering, "Yeah, no. Okay, let me try this again … why did you leave her there?" Better. And while Nick probably already knew the answer to that (it wasn't that hard to figure out, after all), Derek would answer the question, since it was asked so politely. He motioned for Nick to sit down, which he did, and organized his thoughts. He had time to think about the encounter he knew was coming. Which also made him realize that keeping even parts of the truth from Nick would backfire, quite badly. Besides, he was no longer the precept of San Francisco House … and as such, it wasn't his job to keep secrets.
"I didn't want to wake her … and while she might have been somewhat less comfortable on the stairs than she would have been in her own bed, she likely would have never returned to sleep. Besides. I doubt very much if I could have carried her to bed," Derek answered. At Nick's minute flinch, he realized the other man still saw him as he was before the explosion that nearly took his life, instead of the old man he was now. He was fifty-nine years old … not a young man any more, and while his injuries were healed, he would never be the same again.
It was long past time he started applying that to other things. He went on, "As to your unasked questions, why did I cover her up and make her as comfortable as I could on the stairs … I did it because she is my daughter, and I was never given the opportunity to take care of her when she was a child." Nick's eyes widened with shock. Derek sat down opposite the man he'd long regarded as a son, even before he admitted as much, sighing, "You know of my past with Angelique, the former precept of Montreal House. What neither of us knew was that there was a child who resulted from that affair … Anne. To make matters worse, Angelique … she abandoned Anne. Turned her over to Human Services only days after her birth."
"My God … how on earth did you find out? Angelique didn't tell you, did she?" Nick asked. Derek shook his head a bit numbly. No. No, Angelique hadn't told him. At least, not directly. There hadn't been much time the last time they saw each other, especially since she was trying to kill his sister. Nick went on after a moment, "Wait a minute … Angelique's journal. It was in the box from Montreal House that Cora Jennings sent us when she took over. That's how you found out about your daughter."
"Ja. I have no idea if Cora read it before she put it in the box. Most likely she did, and sent it along so you could find Anne, make sure that she was alright. Angelique tells of abandoning our child, but not why. Why would she do such a thing to a helpless child? I doubt very much she had visions of trouble my Anneke might create, because she didn't believe in such things," Derek answered. There was another possibility that terrified him even more … that even as she carried their child, Angelique was being seduced by the Dark, and that led her to abandon their newborn child. Derek added quietly, "I would have taken her."
"You would have been an awesome father. But … you don't think it's a coincidence, that Anne shows up here only weeks after Cora sent us that shipment," Nick observed and Derek shook his head. No. No, he didn't believe that at all. What was worse was, he couldn't directly intervene in what was coming for his daughter, or her soul would be forfeit. Derek wanted to curse his father. That brief moment in Peru when he opened the sepulcher condemned them all. Not just Winston and Derek, but Anne and Justinian as well. He knew his father regretted it, even before the years he spent in Hell, but regret didn't change anything. His father's actions put Derek's child and grandchild into the crosshairs of evil.
"I do not. And I cannot protect her, because that would lead to something even worse happening," Derek told the younger man. Nick didn't ask. There was a time when he would have … but that was before he wore the ring of the precept, before he found himself making the same choices Derek once made. The former precept went on, "Worse yet, I fear asking you to protect her would lead to the same outcome. Something evil came with that shipment to this House, and it seeks to claim my daughter. Further complicating things, she carries a darkness within her. She must make a choice, Nick, and neither of us can influence her."
"Damn. One of those," Nick muttered and Derek inclined his head. He couldn't tell Nick the rest of the story … not yet. But the younger precept asked, "You said that an evil came with the shipment. Are the girls in danger?" Derek smiled a bit. Trust Nick to worry that Alex, Rachel and Kat were in danger. Then again, he wouldn't be Nick if he hadn't asked such a thing. He shook his head. No, his ancestress wasn't interested in going after the three ladies of their House … at least, not yet. Nick said thoughtfully, "Then until they are in danger, I won't get involved. I just hope you tell Anne before she leaves." Derek made no answer, because really … he wasn't sure if he could do that without revealing himself to the entire House. And that was something he simply wasn't ready to do.
"There is one more thing," he told Nick instead. The other man frowned. Derek hesitated, because he knew how Nick would react, and then continued, "You remember Alex's experiences with the tenement building during Rachel's first year with us, ja?" Nick's eyes grew stormy, but he nodded. He'd already figured out where Derek was going with this. But much to Derek's surprise, he didn't fly off the handle. Encouraged, the former precept went on, "There is a particular item in Cora's shipment she needs to see. But first, we must find it."
14AA41
San Francisco Legacy House
Following Day
"KATHERINE CORRIGAN!"
It never failed to amaze her, Kat reflected, how small women could have such loud voices. Not necessarily that Anne was a small woman, but dear God, how she could bellow when she was of a mind to do so! Not for the first time, she found herself wondering if Anne was a mother. She hadn't yet mentioned a child … only her husband Olivier, who failed to meet her for an attempt at reconciliation. Kat didn't respond, merely returned her attention to her game, mentally tracking how close Anne was getting by the foot-stomping. She didn't doubt that Anne would make her pay for her little trick, but it would be more than worth it to get such a reaction out of the older woman. Three, two, one, and … there.
The door flew open, and Kat once more looked up from her book as Anne de Brueil steamed into the library. And yes, she was fairly certain that there was actual steam rolling out of her new friend's ears. It wasn't a good look for her, but she wouldn't bring that up now. Instead, she adopted her most innocent look, asking, "Is there something wrong, Anne?" It wasn't easy … not the innocent look and certainly not keeping a straight face. Especially not when she added, her voice trembling with barely concealed laughter, "Oh, you are incredibly talented … how on earth did you keep your hand steady enough to draw on your own face?"
"You … I … what did you do to me?" Anne all but wailed. It was an angry wail, rather than a distraught wail. Kat smirked. Over the last three weeks, despite her mother's constant warnings about not being able to trust Anne, Kat steadily worked on breaking down the slightly older woman's defenses. That meant playing practical jokes, guiding her back to bed after she'd fallen asleep on the library steps (again), and just in general, being the annoying little sister. Fortunately, Kat had more than twenty years of practice in that.
She'd gotten the idea for her latest prank while playing one of her computer games. One of the characters had tattoos on her face (though they were nowhere near as cool as the Medjai tattoos in The Mummy movies). Anne growled, "How did you make me stay asleep while you drew on my face? Because I wouldn't put it past you to put a sedative in my drink!" Kat snickered, thinking of the strips she'd found at one of the local department stores … you had to love temporary tattoos, especially ones that only required water. Anne's eyes narrowed. She snatched up a pillow from the davenport where Kat was relaxing, and smacked her in the face with it. Oooh, she wanted to play, did she? As Anne drew back her hand to clobber Kat with the pillow again, Kat easily caught her wrist, snatched the pillow out of hand, and returned fire. Anne shrieked, her eyes bright, and for the next several moments, the two overgrown children had a pillow fight.
It wasn't something Kat planned, although she'd been making dents in Anne's armor over the last several weeks. While she had something of a crush on Nick when she was a little girl, Kat came to realize that if she wanted to tag-team someone, her partner-in-crime was usually Alex. She didn't know if it was because they both had the Sight or something else, but they made extremely good partners-in-crime … what one didn't think of, the other usually did. And it was Alex's considered opinion that Anne was trapped by her love and hatred of her ex-husband. Kat wasn't as sure that she hated Olivier (if that was really his name … Anne always hesitated before she called him 'Olivier.'). She hadn't forgiven him for not meeting her, but Kat didn't think she truly hated him. It was just a matter of getting her to see that … which meant breaking through her armor. And that … that was far easier said than done.
Not that she was giving up … especially not now, when hairline cracks were starting to appear in that armor. Getting Anne to play like a child was just one of many steps. Maybe they weren't the right steps, but Kat thought they were. She had the impression that Anne hadn't much of a childhood, something that saddened Kat. Her own childhood was cut short … beginning with the deaths of her father and brother in that car accident, and then by the triggering of her Sight, and everything she experienced from that point forward. But she wasn't alone … whether it was their battle with the demon Azazel, her encounters with Miranda (who, now that she thought about it, closely resembled Senephra), she was never alone. There was always her mom, Derek, Alex, and Nick, and sometimes Philip.
Senephra. Kat hadn't thought of the little Egyptian princess in years. Back then, she'd been torn between delight in encountering the little ghost and terror as Senephra's desperation intensified, culminating with her attack against Philip. As an adult, she grieved for a child whose life was first cut short, and then she was prevented from joining her family in the afterlife by the machinations of a jealous priest. She grieved for that child, and she was enraged on her behalf. Given how her life was ended, given why it was ended … how could she help but be angry? She didn't condone what she did to Philip, but she understood it a little better. Why would Senephra see the difference between the priest who murdered her and kept from her family and the gentle Irish priest who Kat adored? Maybe that was why she was so drawn to Anne … on the face of it, she and Senephra were nothing alike. But there was something so familiar about Anne …
A pillow smacked full into her face, shocking Kat out of her reverie, and she glowered at her new friend, snarking, "Oh, you want to play rough, do you? I can do that!" With that, she knocked the pillow out of Anne's hand and tackled the other woman to the ground. Anne actually squeaked and Kat narrowly missed knees and elbows as she wrestled Anne until she could launch a tickle attack. Anne shrieked and struggled through her giggles, alternatively cursing Kat and begging her to stop.
"Hmm. You know, this would be a lot better if the room was filled with jell-o, and one of the women wasn't my little sister in all the ways that matter," Nick observed from the doorway, sounding more than a little amused. Kat sat back, allowing Anne to catch her breath. Much to her delight, despite the death glares Anne kept sending her way, the other woman was actually smiling (still). Nick went on, his eyes all but disappearing in his smile, "Now, if you two hooligans are done, there's something I want to show Anne. Can I borrow her for a few minutes?" Kat looked at the other woman, whose smile dimmed a little bit, but even so, Anne nodded. Kat pushed herself to her feet, before helping Anne up as well.
As if sensing Kat's misgiving, Anne squeezed her hand lightly, murmuring, "I'll be fine. I've survived far worse than whatever he has to show me. Besides. I have some vengeance to wreak." Kat's lips rounded in a taunting, 'ooh,' but she squeezed Anne's hand in return. Anne followed Nick from the room, and Kat allowed herself a small smile. She was making more progress than she previously thought … those cracks were widening faster than Anne realized. The trouble, she sensed, would come once Anne realized that her armor was disintegrating. But before that happened, Kat wanted Anne to understand something very important … she didn't want Anne to forgive Olivier for his sake. She'd never met the man. She wanted her friend to forgive him for her own sake … and set herself free.
14AA41
San Antonio, Texas
Gennesaret
April 2015
"So … what was the item Nick Boyle wanted to show you?" Tristan asked. By now, she was sitting on the same table they'd been cleaning. Anne huffed a little. Yeah, she should have realized that Tristan would pick up on that. The trouble was, when she started this story, she'd never thought she would provide this much detail. After all, what followed was not … well, it wasn't something she wanted her own children to hear. But … but Tristan was her niece, not her daughter. And maybe … maybe it wasn't a good idea to try to protect Tristan.
As she had learned, there was evil in the world, and mundane evil was no less dangerous than supernatural. A quiet voice murmured, "I'd like the answer to that myself." Startled, Anne turned to look at Athos, who was sitting on the steps down into the basement, with Philip Callaghan on a step above him, listening as well. The priest looked pale and troubled, and Anne knew she would only be making things worse over the next few minutes. Especially when she reached the part of the story where her ancestress attacked Kat. Athos smiled a little, adding, "I've long wondered what happened when you left Montreal. I never expected to hear the story like this. Hello, sweet girl."
This was said with a smile as Tristan squeaked and jumped from the bench to give her uncle a hug. Of course, Sabine couldn't be left out and she imperiously held up her arms to be picked up. Aramis muttered under his breath about how she became more and more like her father every day, but swept her into his arms and carted her over to Athos. Her husband's smile lit up his face and he easily accepted their daughter from his brother, kissing the top of her head. Even now, weeks later, watching Athos with their children made her heart stop. He was still awkward with Justinian, more so than he was with Sabine, but that didn't stop him from showing their little boy that he was loved. And Justinian took his daddy's awkwardness in stride.
"Have a seat, Athos. Jean has Justinian in the storage room, gathering supplies. I'm sure when things get particular unpleasant, we can find another errand for them," Josie murmured. Athos inclined his head and took a seat beside Anne. Sabine babbled up at both parents, and Athos shifted the baby into her arms. Anne glowered at him … he only thought he was being subtle. Idiot. But she made Sabine more comfortable in her lap, resting her chin atop the baby's head. Josie continued, "Before you get to this item of Nick Boyle's, there's something I need clarification on. You actually stayed in that house for three weeks? As a guest?"
Anne couldn't blame her friend and sister for her disbelief. She really wasn't known for staying put unless she was given a reason to stay. Athos' hand came to rest in the small of her back, and Anne blinked back tears as she remembered so many times when he did that during their first marriage to steady her, to reassure her. But it did what it was intended to do, and Anne admitted, "I wasn't planning on staying past the first night. Unfortunately, I wasn't counting on getting lost when I tried to leave. Or maybe fortunately." Yes, it was definitely fortunate that she got lost, now that she thought about it.
However, that was distracting her, and she went on, "I suppose, too, that I needed a place to hide and work some things out. Not just how I felt about Athos when I thought he stood me up, but who I wanted to be. I didn't want to be who I was any more, but I didn't know who else to be … and I didn't know how to stop being that woman. I once pretended to be the woman I wanted to be, when I fell in love with your brother. And we all know how that worked out."
"But Anne, I fell in love with you. I didn't care about what your name was or your status. It wasn't about that. I thought you lied about loving me," Athos protested earnestly, and Anne touched his face with her free hand. She knew that … now (and Athos' soft, 'did you ever love me?' had never stopped haunting her), but … Well. When she reached the Legacy House, she found that she needed to be stripped down to her most basic levels to figure out who Anne de Brueil really was, as well as who she wanted to be.
She'd never really listened to music that much … not with her heart, at least. But in that third week at the Legacy House, she'd overheard Kat singing along as she listened to one of her CD's and … it resonated with her. 'Show me what it's like to be the last one standing, teach me wrong from right, and I'll show you what I can be, say to me, say it for me, and I'll leave this life behind me, say it if it's worth savin' me.' Anne had gasped when she heard Kat singing those words, gasped and felt her eyes filling with tears. She heard her own feelings put into words, exactly how she felt when she left Montreal. Maybe that was the tipping point. Maybe that was when she started figuring out who she wanted to be, aside from the Cardinal's creature.
But she would share that story with them another day. She was still sharing truths with Athos, after all. She said softly, "I know, love. I know. Something that Kat taught me while I was in San Francisco was that love couldn't exist without trust, and I shattered your trust in me." Her own trust was shattered as well, Athos didn't enter her life under false pretenses. Something she had to accept in order to forgive him, as well as herself. She went on, "You weren't here when I started the story, so … shortly before I arrived in San Francisco, they received a shipment from a sister organization in Boston. They believed an item in that shipment belonged to your ancestor, Raoul de Bragelonne." Athos' quick inhale of breath would have made her smile, normally.
Not this time. She went on, before he could ask anything, "It didn't. It belonged to someone infinitely more dangerous … to someone who murdered because he believed that was what his mother would have wanted of him, and it probably was. It belonged to one John Francis de Winter, the son of Milady de Winter." And, because she really should have told Athos this particular truth a long time ago (but she'd spent the last year and a half coming to terms with it herself), she added, "My many-times great-grrandfather."
TBC
Additional Author Notes: Fun fact-Colleen Rennison, who played Princess Senephra in the first season episode Doppleganger, returned in the fourth season for a series of episodes, playing Miranda. At the age of eight, that little girl was already a very good little actress. She later went on to take over the role of Cassie in Stargate: SG-1 when Katie Stuart wasn't available.
