Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground. Beta assistance from TJ4ev and Whimsyfox enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal.
Behold! My holiday gift to you dear reader is an update! I hope it rekindles your interest enough to see us all through to the end. The next chapter is already out to Beta, and the finale is in brew. Still reading after all this time? Drop a line and let me know. It would make my holiday.
Richard Turner disliked many things. Hoarders. Hookah bars. Her Majesty's Customs and Excise. The list went on. But he especially disliked being manhandled. Normally he wouldn't stand for it, except the man who had 'rescued' him from his imprisonment in the Archive was incredibly strong. Richard didn't appear to have much say in the matter.
The non-talkative fellow smelled of werewolf, it was true, but even with that, he seemed surprisingly, beyond-naturally strong for his slight frame and genteel hands. Richard's diet during captivity had been less than satisfactory of course, but it hadn't weakened him that much. Or so he thought. The werewolf had unlocked his cell, barged in and pulled Richard upright before he could protest. But the true surprise had come when the intruder had stabbed him in the neck with a syringe! Richard's last thought before the rapid loss of consciousness was curiosity about the dosage.
He awoke in a musty, dark cargo van just as the door opened to silhouette his captor. With barely any effort, the werewolf hauled Richard out of the van and set him on a forced march towards the nearest brick row house. He held the sharpened end of a stake pressed vigorously into his back.
It wasn't until they came to stand at the door of the rundown bed and breakfast, it's rusted sign squeaking in the wind, that Richard finally understood the source of his captor's Herculean strength. On the landing, the fellow turned to face him.
"Here, hold this," his captor ordered with a heavy Brazilian accent as they stood at the door. Then, the aggressive posture of the man facing him, threatening stake and all, slumped.
Startled, Richard caught him to keep them both from ungracefully falling backwards just as the door opened to the smug face of a young stranger. He gave a cheeky grin at Richard's compromising position. "Please, come in," he invited formally, then promptly disappeared. The limp frame in Richard's arms stiffened, resuming its bracing assault as the ghost resumed control of his host.
"Possession? Seriously? What the bloody -" but he was cut off by being rudely shoved across the threshold. "So we're checking in, then?" Richard managed to huff out. The place smelt even more of werewolf than his captor. And there was another scent that momentarily eluded him. Something familiar.
A pair of footsteps descending the stairs gave the possessed man pause and Richard looked up to see who was coming to greet them. Human, he hoped wildly. He was starving.
Luck, it seemed, continued to taunt him. With a rigid posture, a rough-hewn stake gripped tightly, and a menacing expression, Henry Yorke stopped at the foot of the stairs. His ghost girlfriend came down the stairs behind with a stoic expression. She stood at Henry's side and crossed her arms over her chest. Richard barked a laugh at the sight of the pair of them even as he was manhandled into a chair.
"Henry!" he called out jovially in greeting. The appearance of his partner was a relief. "So you are behind it all! Is this fellow quite necessary though?" Richard asked as the ghost tugged his arms uncomfortably behind his back to lash his wrists to the chair. "He has practically staked me on accident already, you know."
Hal looked back and forth between Richard and the stranger, then pointedly asked, "What are you doing here, Richard?"
"You tell me. And couldn't you have at least chosen a better lodge? This place is horrid."
"Hey, Buster," Alex bristled, but Henry caught her arm.
The possessed man finished strapping Richard to the chair, then straightened. "Henry Yorke, I presume?" he asked. "You weren't supposed to be here," he stated with a tilt of his head and a sly smile. "But what a treat that you are."
"What are you doing with Richard, Vinicius? Or should we call you something else?" Hal revealed that he already recognised or somehow knew that the man was possessed.
A slender eyebrow arched upwards. "Hmm. You are quite the clever one. I've been informed not to underestimate you."
"Wait," Richard queried, his relief at seeing his old partner turning into trepidation. "You didn't order this thing to rescue me?"
Hal shook his head, keeping his eyes on the unknown ghost.
"Bloody fantastic," Richard grumbled, then tugged at his bonds.
Henry's girl must have decided to take matters into her own hands because a heavy bottle went sailing off the bar, aimed for the man's head. It stopped in mid-air, levitating in a blurred spin, and the possessed man huffed a melodious laugh. With a flick of his wrist he sent the bottle sailing backwards. Henry ducked reflexively, pulling his ghost down with him. The bottle shattered against the wall behind their heads.
"Try that again and it will be this," the werewolf raised his stake. "And I do not miss."
The pair of them stood slowly and Henry raised one hand in a convincing surrender. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Isn't it obvious, Senhor Yorke? Para terminar o seu reinado."
Richard's portuguese was exemplary, just as he knew his partner's was. Somehow, this ghost had entrapped them both. Perhaps he had even orchestrated Richard's bloody capture to begin with. Perhaps he had orchestrated everything. Whether he meant all vampires, or just Turner and Yorke did not matter. Richard began to feel a frightening doubt.
Somehow, this Herculean ghost capable of possession thought that he could end their reign.
Tom was slammed against the side of a Heddlu police van, the fluorescent yellow and blue filling his peripheral vision as he was handcuffed. He had put up a convincing fight, but that's all it was. Tom had let himself be arrested.
Irving had run. Until they caught Gwedore and Christa, that is, and the youth had turned back, hands raised. As the scene around them dissolved into shouts and orders, Tom let himself go slack. Cooperative-like. He nodded assurance, disarmingly shuffling into the back of the van under the flash of cameras. They hadn't even finished arresting him before they started filming footage of the warehouse.
He was glad that Rook had taken Allison with him. She didn't need the risk of a permanent record. Tom already had one so wasn't too perturbed. He had faith that they would all be released shortly, just as Rook had promised. Tom knew the Department couldn't risk leaving them in captivity. If the plan went as planned, the charges against them would come to nothing. If it didn't, then the world as they knew it would be thrown into chaos and it all wouldn't much matter anymore. Either way, the Department would get them out.
No, Tom wasn't too worried as he was thrown into the back of the police van. Except for the niggling seed of doubt that being taken into custody was actually safer than going home. He just hoped Allison did as instructed for once and stayed out of sight.
The fury could be felt across the room when a mangy bit of duct tape was slapped over Richard's mouth. They weren't so different, he and Richard. Which was perhaps why they had gotten on so well, all that time ago.
'We could rule them, you and I. If only you'd grant your illustrious name,' Richard had coaxed him. And they had, for a time. Even Mr. Snow had eventually placed stock in their little enterprise. Real estate, artifacts, antiques - Richard was a savvy investor. And 'Lord Harry' had the connections and the clout with their clientele. For a time, they had been kings. When Hal stepped away, Richard had kept their empire running without a hitch, only seeking his counsel from time to time on how to best deal with a particular individual or how to play a setup. They had been a good team. A partnership that Hal had fostered even from his new life, his 'something different'. A partnership that Hal had been reluctant to end even when his trust in Richard was suspect.
"You're to stay here until they come for you," the ghost wearing Vinicius told Richard, who huffed through his nose in reply. "You however, will be coming with us," he said to Hal.
"The hell he will!" Alex took a step forward but Hal held her back. He understood her fiery protection, but didn't want to risk anyone getting staked.
"What makes you think that I would?"
The man grinned, patted Richard on the shoulder, then strode forward to face them. "Senhor, you will not be given the choice."
"Like we haven't heard that before," Alex bristled.
The creak of the back door was unmistakable. It opened, then closed. Hal immediately knew the footfalls were neither Tom's nor Allison's. They were far too slight.
"You want a job done right," Hetty shook her braids as she boisterously pushed through the swinging doors. Her attire, complete with a tailored suit jacket, spoke of the lady of power she was and not the child she appeared. She dropped a lock pick into her handbag. "Is Phil treating you well there Dickie?" She turned to Hal with a little tilt of her head. "Fancy catching you at home. Gotcha."
"Shite, not the midge," Alex muttered, adjusting her posture towards the new threat.
Hal drew an agitated breath as he immediately recognised who the accomplice to Castle and Milo had been. He wondered if Jonathan Castle had even known who he had truly been working for. "Hetty," Hal shook his head. "So you think you're the one to finish what Snow started?"
"Who else? It was your torchman Cutler who gave me the idea, you see." Hetty plopped her handbag onto the arm of the sofa. "Werewolves as the Big Bad in the world? Brilliant. He was really something, that kid. Too bad he couldn't take the heat. One barb from Snow and he turned tail. Ah well. Now just where are your little wolfy friends?"
"You've done all this?" Alex, incredulous, furrowed her brow. "Why would you want this? You're gonna be exposing your own kind just as much as the werewolves!"
"Gives me a right tickle, pumpkin. To be finally out of the closet? I had some plans, you see. And I'm bloody tired of playing pretend. But then - oh! To get to really be the good guys? To rescue the world from the evil 'wittle werewolves? Add the cherry on top of sticking it to these two pompous asses and I was right motivated."
"You weren't waiting for Richard in London to discuss business." The realisation struck Hal quickly. He shook his head, then flashed his teeth at the irony. "Jesus - that tea was for him. Insurance if Castle didn't play his part."
"Bingo, daddy-o. I figured I'd have to set a much bigger mousetrap for you."
"Mmph?" Richard shook his head in confusion.
"She was going to poison and shoot you," Hal answered his partner. Richard gave an indignant huff.
"Sad to loose you Dick, but you understand. We need your mug for the evening news. Business and all," Hetty said sweetly. "As for you, dear Harry, I didn't think I'd have to come fetch you myself. But your girl Rosanna up and ran last night. Maybe she grew herself a heart. There ain't a whole lot of people left who know what you look like. That must sting."
Hal ignored the barb. "Why would you want to expose all of us? What do you hope to achieve?"
"Oh, I'm disappointed! Must be all that humanity going to your head. We expose the whole supernatural menage à trois and come out as clearly the superior species. Why hide from the world when you can rule it? Why else do you think we came to bloody Barry to start, blockhead? That Archive was the key. It had to go. Felipe here has been in place for intel for - how long was it Phil?"
"Eighty-four years," he said with a flourished waved of his stake. "Ever since I was bound to your Lobisomem to keep an eye on them, per your little agreement with Snow. Which is how we learned that we were not the only ones who were watching."
"You discovered the Department! Oh," Alex uttered, following the line of implication. "Holy jaysus, you discovered the Department."
"And then infiltrated it," Felipe answered. "Humans are so easy to sway. Mr. Snow did not think I was such a failure. I'm no Hangori, but I've proved worthy nonetheless."
"Phil's done a damn fine job - ghosting into their communications, following their agents. Us higher-ups have known the workings of the 'world's domestic staff' for quite some time."
"Why wasn't I made aware?" Hal asked, genuinely baffled.
"Because, dunderhead, you skived off before any of us were told. You know how Snow liked it. Gather-gather-gather-strike, and such," she shrugged. "So this is where you're living these days? Christ, you have lost your marbles," Hetty tutted disdainfully as her eyes wandered to the bar. "I'd ask for some O-positive, but I'd be at a loss there."
"How did you get to Castle?" Hal asked, blatantly sidestepping Hetty's mockery. "He didn't strike me as the cooperative type."
"Easy. Get a few strategic wolves to believe they had a chance in making a revolution," Hetty said as she wandered behind the bar. "Pah! Knew that'd be a sore spot with the grey suits. All it took to hook Castle early on was an informant 'friend' ring-leading said revolution. A friend who wanted to bring down vampires as much as he. Good ol' Milo with his discreet intel. You were almost onto him."
"Ah, but now you've actually started it," Hal concluded.
"Bitch, please," she stood on tippy toe to reach for the Sailor Jerry, turning her back on Hal. "You think these pups will live to see their next turn? That was never our style. I know who they all are."
Hal took a fast step towards Hetty and she immediately turned, ready to brandish the rum as a weapon. Felipe raised his stake, threateningly poised. "Not so fast."
Exasperated, Hal sighed and lowered his hands to his sides disarmingly. "What do you want, Hetty?"
"What I've always wanted. Everything. And you two lovebirds are going to help me get it."
Hal tapped his fingers in flurried succession while Hetty uncorked the Sailor Jerry and took a hearty draught. Alex caught his hand, stilling the movement as if that would help. He already knew what Hetty wanted. He had desperately hoped that it wouldn't come to this - so much so that he had nearly removed himself from the equation. But there was no use for denial any longer. "You cannot force me to turn Old Ones."
"Oh, I beg to differ," she chortled, gesturing with the rum bottle. "I can chain you down, ensnare your pet, and take it anyways. You're helping whether you wish or no." Hetty left the bottle on the bar and walked right up to Hal. "It would be so much more fun of course if you were willing. How many do you think we'd get out of her?" Hetty asked with a smile, putting a hand on her hip.
"Och! Just try me," Alex growled, but Hal squeezed her hand in his to silence her. He squared his jaw as Alex gave him an assessing glance. They both needed to keep their tempers, but his was growing painfully short. Next to Richard, Felipe lazily twirled his stake between his fingers. Hal no longer wished to die. Given that Alex had halted his suicide mere hours ago, the thought was ironic. His pathetic attempt to protect her from this inevitability was terribly sad.
"That was your plan all along with Dick, wasn't it?" Hetty continued. "I bet it's how you got him to keep your little secret of being not-dead," she chuckled. "Now, I wonder if it went further than that. If you meant to overthrow Snow. You've been experimenting with ghosts for a long time. Case in point, our boy Phil here. Now, if you were to succeed in fully binding a Hangori, that would give you a whole lot of power. Stands to reason you'd continue. Stands to reason you can do it again."
"You're wrong. That isn't who I am any longer."
"Oh Hal, for fuck's sake! Kitten's out of the sack now. You took out Snow because you had her - didn't you? Not just for dear old Dick. I know you! All the way to the top, no stops. Well, ol' Het is right there with you."
Alex shook her head, "No. That isn't what it was like at all."
She grinned. "Oh, honey. Have you got rose-coloured specs, or what? I know all about the little experiments your boyfriend got up to before he turned soft. All the graves. All the clotted blood. Harry's been trying to bond a Hangori for a very long time."
"And it never worked!" Hal rebutted.
"No, it never did. Or so you told Snow. But now here's the proof in your little pudding. You're a liar and you'll always be a liar. I want South America. And if you come peacefully, I'll give you the red carpet back in London that you want. Got 'em all primed. You - the real you - could take Snow's place so easily and you know it. You're next in line, cuckoo habits or no. Besides, I sure as shit can't do it. Unless we want an invulnerable army of munchkins."
"You need me." Hal stated dryly.
"Now he's getting it!" Hetty laughed. "I used to be scared of you, Harry. You were never like the others. You could be a true monster. But not anymore. You've domesticated. You don't scare me now."
Hal felt the fragility of his control slip. She had just given his monster a perfect excuse to manifest. She would never relent. If he hadn't selfishly let himself be swayed from his death by Alex, Hetty would have arrived to an empty house. But now he had no other choice. His fellow Old One had to end.
Hal let go of Alex's hand and tilted his head menacingly. "You are very much mistaken."
"Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't try," Hetty shrugged, casually discounting his threat. Quickly placing fingers to her lips, she whistled. "Come on in, boys!"
The front and back doors both banged opened. Fangs flashing and black eyes gleaming, scruffy, leather dressed vampires poured into their house. Six came in through the kitchen and four through the front. Felipe grinned as Hetty pointed to Hal. "This one, loves."
"And what of the girl?" The closest thug asked with a lewd sneer at Alex.
Hetty just winked. "Don't you worry bout her. Lint on a lolly, she'll stick around."
Alex saw Hal's coiled and poised demeanour unfurl into action. He swung his stake at the closest vampire, instantly on the offensive. "Alex! Not living things!"
As Hal shouted the quote from Annie, Alex instantly knew what he meant. She reached out and caught hold of the two nearest vampires charging Hal, and with a swift tug, she rent-a-ghosted to the first place she could think of.
She appeared back in the Pleasure Park, next to the dodgems. Alex was alone.
Without a spare second to contemplate what had happened to them, she popped back into the living room, appearing in a different spot to grab another unwelcome vampire. Phil snarled at her from across the sofa, but before he could raise a hand against her, she was gone again.
When she teleported back, she caught a glimpse of Hal putting up a mean fight against several. They weren't out to hurt him though, but to capture, which gave Hal an advantage. Hetty sat at the bar, clear of the melee as Hal blocked one vampire then threw a GQ magazine at another, the distraction just enough for a thrust in with his stake. Richard looked astonished at the eruption of ash in front of him, then met Alex's gaze from across the room before she was gone in another split second jump.
The back garden door was already open when they arrived. Rook motioned for silence, then peered in. The corridor was empty, so he gave a nod to Nave and Allison. She could hear sounds of a scuffle further inside.
"They're in the living room," she said, hushed.
They ducked into the house and crept through to the kitchen, dropping below the line of sight from the pass-through. Thankfully, the swing doors to the living room were closed. The three of them huddled next to the radiator as the sounds of a fight were evident. Allison risked stealing a glance, spotting Alex and Hal in the fight just before Rook yanked her down.
"They're my friends!" she mouthed but Rook held a finger to his lips, insisting on silence.
"Bollocks that!" she whispered and pulled free. Quickly scanning the room, she ducked back down. "Vinicius is here. And Hetty. And Richard!"
"Larkin!" Rook shushed. "You won't be able to answer the door to dissuade reporters if you are dead."
"No one will be answering the door if they keep at it!" Allison countered in a chided whisper under the curdled scream of a staked vampire. "You can't see half of what's going on, so at least let me look." Allison urged.
"Maggie's on her way," Nave countered, glancing at the screen of his mobile just as the ghost appeared in the garden, seen through the open doorway. Clutching a flat, brown paper parcel to her bosom, she caught Allison's eye, then teleported to be squatting next to them. She tucked her parcel into the cupboard shelf opposite from them, and Rook followed the movement.
"Thank you," he mouthed, then motioned towards the fight in the living room. "They have Turner."
Maggie Dan nodded even though only Allison could see her, then disappeared once more.
"And actually, I just saw Miss Millar quite clearly," Rook admitted in surprise, continuing their debate.
Despite the fight in her living room, Allison flushed with giddy excitement. "So she got it back! Maybe they're okay."
Rook pushed up his sleeve to glance at his watch. "Not if they're all still here in ten minutes."
When Alex returned the third time, it was to a haze of ash and the room on tense pause. Hal had Hetty held brutally against the bar, his stake threateningly close to her chest. The little vampire got over her shock, kicking and hissing as her few remaining henchmen held their ground, unsure of what to do.
"Don't move," he commanded. "Or I'll end her, just like the rest."
Hetty, still straining against Hal, let out a peal of laughter. "Oh bravo! See? A proven and fitting leader. But I call your bluff. You wouldn't."
One of the vampires looked to Felipe for assurance and he gave a nod. The remaining vampires stepped forward to take Hal.
"No!" Alex halted them all with a forceful push of energy. Strengthened by her renewed connection with Hal, they all were stopped in their tracks. One growled, but another nervously swallowed.
Felipe just laughed, then retaliated with a loose wave of his hand. Alex was shoved into the bookcase. "Strong, yes. Experienced? I think no."
With Alex held against the bookcase, the four remaining vampires leapt forward. One reached for Hal, nearly upon him, but then staggered as a barstool toppled and rolled under his feet. Maggie Dan appeared next to Alex, one arm towards Felipe as the barstool careened into the closest assailant. Suddenly freed, Alex returned her strength to the fight and successfully blocked the other vampires.
"You had all these people turned," Hal glowered over Hetty. "And for what?"
Hetty gave a nervous smile, her bravado lessening as the fight swayed out of her favour. "Were they enough for you? We cleaned up half of Tottenham to make last night convincing."
"This has to stop," Hal declared.
"It will if you want it to. Come back to us," she asserted. "Lead them with me, Hal. It's our time now. Everything is falling into place."
Hal just gave a sad shake of his head. "You won't ever comprehend, will you? It can never be our time."
Hal raised his arm and without hesitation, thrust it down. Hetty's eyes dropped with unbelieving surprise to the stake plunged into her chest.
"But," she whispered, all her youthful cadence gone. "You'll be all alone in the world. I thought…" Hetty's words trailed off as her skin started to crack.
Hal remained perfectly still, watching the lines swiftly spread. "I'm not alone," he uttered as the cracking hit Hetty's petrified face. He pulled the stake free and Hetty exploded into ash, the silty white cloud falling starkly around Hal.
Alex watched Hal's jaw clench, his breathing laboured. She replayed the conversation they had mere days ago. Could you do it? He could.
Richard Turner was staring intently at Hal's checked form with a bewildered expression, his aghast eyes saying more than words. He hadn't expected that Hal could actually do it. Hal Yorke had ended the only other Old One left.
