Actually, the description partially lied. Oh well. This here actually was meant to connect to chapter one, but it is capabke of standing alone.
Enjoy, don't hate. You hate, I cry. Again, feedback is nice. 3
There were three of them, and they had been running for a day and a night straight. The leader was a tall, lean, blonde man whose hair stuck up like feathers no matter how many times he smoothed it down. He wore a gray pinstripe suit that was torn and soiled from crashing through the woods. He was carrying a black leather bag slung over his shoulder, and he kept one hand upon it as he ran, ensuring that it remained close at his side. The other two carried no bags, but both were armed. The woman bore a long bow and a quiver of arrows on her back, and the man a halberd, which he occasionally used to cut through tree branches. Though none of them looked back, there was a sharp sense of pursuit, the feeling of knowing that one is being chased without actually seeing the chaser. It was the man with the halberd they caught first, knocking him out of a tree and plummeting towards the grounds in a mess of hisses and snarls and battle. The woman killed two of them, but they outnumbered her on the ground, swarming from the bushes. The blonde man kept running—and however much he might have wanted to, he was given no chance to look for his comrades. Suddenly, the forest around him burst into rabid flames.
"Give them to me now, de Cameron." Snarled a voice with a sharp, metallic edge to it from the shadows. "And I'll let you live." The blonde man let out a short, bitter laugh.
"There was never a single one of the Nineteen who would trust a Golem's word!" He snapped back, taking the bag down from his shoulder. Then he swung it once around his head and threw it with what must have been all his strength. It sailed out of the clearing, over the circle of flames, and vanished into the growing dawn. Almost the instant he released the bag, silver wires wrapped themselves around the blonde's arm, shoulder, and throat, each one extending from the shadows. With a sharp jerk, they brought him, panting, to his knees. A set of thick-soled army boots crunched across the forest bed to where he knelt, fighting for air. White gloved hands seized his shirt collar, lifting him off the ground.
"Where. Did. You. Send. Them?!" The voice demanded, shaking him. The blonde chuckled weakly.
"Poor, poor Rico... What will you tell Katlynn? You've failed." His captor let out an incomprehensible, guttural growl and threw him back down on the ground forcefully.
Miles away, Benjamin, taking a very long walk to cool down, was very nearly hit on the head by a shiny, black leather shoulder bag. He ducked out of the way, just in time, then turned a crouched beside the bag. He poked it a few times, then quickly and delicately opened it and dumped out its contents. A pair of gilded, identical, twin handguns slid out of the bag's lined interior and onto the leaf-covered ground. In the still-low light, they glistened unnaturally, particularly the word inscribed in thin, gold engraving: 'Gemini.' Very, very slowly, Benjamin extended a hand, and brushed his fingers across the smooth surface of one of the handguns. Some sort of electric-like shock surged through him the instant he touched it, however, and he jerked back quickly.
Back in the clearing, the blonde man jerked at the same instant, as if from the same shock. Then he let out a single, relieved sigh, and let his eyes close.
When Benjamin returned to the house, a note on the dinning room table said that Tia and Kebi had gone shopping, which confused him, because he knew very well that Kebi hated to shop. He could hear Amun pacing in the living room, and realized that Kebi had probably been trying to clear out the house so that the two of them could 'talk things over.' Benjamin swallowed, deciding to try and be an adult about it. He stepped into the room.
"Amun, I-" His creator jumped sharply, whirling, his eyes wide in surprise. "-Um... Hi?" Amun shook his head.
"What is it?" Benjamin sighed, coming in and putting the bag on the coffee table. As soon as it was in view, his creator's eyes locked on to it, as if it were an object of some great purport. "What is that?"
"I don't know. That's just it. It dropped on my head while I was walking..." He flipped the bag open and dumped the two handguns onto the table. It was like he'd released a cobra. Amun jerked back instantly, staring at the two weapons as if they were going to leap off the table's surface and attack him. Then he turned quickly away, covering his eyes, like it hurt to look at them.
"Put them away."
"What-"
"Just do it. Those things are dangerous. Put them away, and tell no one they're here." Benjamin hurriedly did as he was told, and then Amun took the bag from him, his face serious. "Tell no one." He repeated.
"Amun-" Benjamin began, but the older vampire held up a hand.
"Not even Tia. Do you understand?" Benjamin swallowed, and nodded. Amun shook his head, and left the room agitatedly. Benjamin did not see him for the rest of the night.
Somewhere in northern Sweden, the doors of an old, worn church burst open, and two bent, limping figures entered the long hall. The woman who sat at the head of the long table rose quickly, moving to them.
"Where is Khaled?" She asked in a deep, worried voice. The man shook his head.
"We lost him in the forest." He explained in a hoarse voice. "They caught up to us."
"The bag?" Both shook their heads.
"We do not know." The woman said in a heavy Russian accent. "We failed. I am sorry." The woman held out her hands.
"Do not worry, my friends. We must not lose hope." She gestured to others, who came forward and helped the two out of the room. She walked to a window, staring out at the snow. "We must not lose hope, that the Gemini will find their way home..."
Benjamin and Tia were dragged out of bed early the next morning by Kebi—who had apparently decided that they should go shopping again. This made Benjamin wonder if something was actually wrong. Kebi despised shopping; while she had probably taken Tia out yesterday so that Amun and Benjamin could talk, two days in a row was just unnatural. That wasn't to say that the tiny, figured Egyptian vampire wasn't a snappy dresser, but Benjamin had always been of the opinion that the fashionable clothes just materialized in her closet. There was no sign of Amun as Kebi rushed them about which was unusual, every time he tried to ask, however, she'd change the subject. Benjamin was becoming quite certain that Amun knew something about the black bag, and that Kebi was in on it. She towed them out the door to her small black sports car, climbing in. Though they were still a good distance from any other people, living in the Rhakotis district, which was actually one of the poorest. Benjamin knew that Amun and Kebi could have absolutely anywhere they wanted, and living in the slums of Alexandria was one of the things they did that greatly confused him. Whenever he asked, both of them would dismiss the question. He sighed, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes and deciding not to think about it.
The reason Benjamin had not seen Amun that morning was because his creator had been upstairs, staring at the bag as it lay on his bed. Then, very carefully, again as if it had a live cobra inside, he opened it and allowed the two guns to fall onto the covers. He dropped the bag, staring down at them, and, taking a deep breath, reached out towards one. He touched one fingertip to the barrel. The instant he touched it, a jolt ran through him, but he did not flinch back like his son had; something like a flash of light clouded his vision, making him blink.
In Sweden, the woman's head snapped around, her eyes widening.
In Baghdad, Iraq, a man dropped everything he was holding and froze.
In Madrid, Spain, a man very nearly drove off the road, and a woman leapt up, uttering a spanish war-cry.
In Forks, Washington, Carlisle simply fell over in the hospital hallway.
In London, England, a woman fell off the bridge she had been standing on.
In Rome, Italy, a young woman stumbled, catching herself on the wall.
In Kyoto, Japan, a man and a woman sat up sharply in bed.
In Moscow, Russia, a man suddenly stopped talking, as if he couldn't breathe.
And somewhere, in the darkest reaches of the world, Khaled's eyes snapped open. His captor turned on him immediately.
"Where are they?" Despite being fastened securely to the stone wall so that his bare feet just barely touched the ground, Khaled de Cameron still managed to flash the remnants of a smug smile.
"You're... Too late..." He wheezed. "... They're... Home..." The other man snarled, slamming his hand down on Khaled's eyes, tiny wires protruding from and boring into the blonde vampire's skull. Flashes of what had transpired played from both of them, until the other man stepped back.
"So, Iboni has got his half back..." He murmured softly. "Well then. We'll just have to make absolutely sure that Cullen does not get his!" He looked over his shoulder. "Deploy the Patrol Golems, and have them wait for my order!" He was about to go, then turned back to Khaled, gripping his face in his palm. "I will find the Gemini, and when I do, I will drag their bearers here, and put them to death right in front of you!" He laughed cruelly when Khaled's eyes widened slightly. Crossing to the door, he paused one last time. "And then I'll do the same with that Mesopotamian creator of yours!" His disturbing, mechanical laughter echoed long after he was gone.
