My dearest Sarela Jade…

I AM SOOOO SORRY FOR TAKING SO FREAKIN' LONG TO POST ANOTHER CHAPTER!

I actually have a long and boring explanation as to why it took so long to post, but that doesn't matter. I'm glad you stuck with me so long and so patiently. And you have nothing to apologize for. I don't care how many reviews you leave because I love them all. I could never be annoyed by your reviews because I crave your opinions and compliments. Keep reading, keep writing your wonderful reviews, and don't stop being so great.

I know I have a lot more devoted fans and readers out there who have been waiting for another update. Here it is. And thank you for your patience. It hasn't gone unnoticed.

Enjoy.

Crow and Dove

Chapter 8:

She didn't have time to think.

She didn't have time to wonder why there was a man looking down at her or how that man had found her or why he had decided to venture into a cursed building in the first place.

As soon as she saw that shadowed face and those glistening blue eyes staring at her, she reacted.

The reaction was completely involuntary.

She screamed.

The cacophonous sound pierced the quiet night and bounced against the walls of the room. The man looming over her cringed and retreated from the horrid sound that made even Sarah's ears rings unpleasantly.

As soon as the face was out of view, Sarah's mind returned to its normal processing order and instinct took over surprise.

She snapped her mouth shut and jumped out of the box, landing on her open hands and using her momentum to curl her body into a roll and slide effortlessly across the ground. Her feet landed on solid ground and she was back on her feet within the next second; her long hair whipping behind her.

She faced her adversary as the man turned to look at her. She raised her fists in preparation for a fight. Being a grown woman living alone in a lawless city had forced her to take up the practice of self-defense.

She bent her knees; tense and ready to jump and run if the man had a gun. She could hold off a knife for a while and was certainly advantaged at hand-to-hand combat, but against a gun she was defenseless.

But the man seemed to be wielding no weapon whatsoever. He cautiously stepped towards her; hands empty and open in the air to show that he had no item with which to cause her harm with.

"Sarah?" he asked in a slightly accented voice.

She stiffened. This stranger knew her name. Was he one of Thrash's gang looking to get his own personal reward?

"Back off," Sarah spat vehemently. She stepped around the man in a slow circle; keeping her eyes locked on her target.

"Sarah, it's me," the man pleaded, following Sarah without moving from where he stood. He realized that Sarah was a weapon he didn't want to mess with.

"Better be a bit more specific if you don't want to get your ass kicked," Sarah shot back snidely. "Better yet, why don't you just leave now and no one will have to get hurt."

"It's Eric."

Sarah froze where she stood; eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment, her fists went slack and all she could do was stare at the man standing before her.

"Shut up!" she cried out.

She rushed at the man and swung a right hook at his jaw. Taken aback, the man could only retreat to avoid Sarah's fist. She swung her left hand and this too was dodged. Keeping the momentum of her body's spin, Sarah lifted her foot and aimed a kick for the man's torso.

Her body was stopped abruptly as the man took hold of her foot before she could make contact.

"My name is Eric Draven," Eric explained calmly.

"I said shut it!" Sarah exclaimed and twisted free from the man. She backpedaled and shrouded herself in the shadows.

This man was not Eric. Those eyes were too blue and that hair was too light. After six years, Eric would have looked like a decomposed corpse, not a half-starved man that looked like he had been begging on the street only hours before. Not a man covered in rags and a tattered hat.

He couldn't possibly be Eric.

"You're not Eric," Sarah voiced her thoughts aloud. "Eric's dead."

"I've come back," the man claiming to be Eric said gently, "again."

How dare he hurt her like this? How dare he taunt her with the memories of her departed friend?

With a feral cry, Sarah rushed at Eric again. She ducked low and swung a leg at Eric's feet. Her shin connected with the back of the man's ankles and the force of the impact sent him tumbling backwards. Before he had hit the ground, Sarah was already up and preparing for her next attack.

She lifted her foot and slammed it down. The man reacted quickly and rolled away from her as he foot crashed against the floor; splintering the wood. She glared daggers at her rising adversary and sprang again, her fist aimed at his solar plexus to render him immobile with air-deprived lungs. But Eric was too fast and slipped past her; slapping her hand aside and causing her to stagger off balance.

He reached out a hand to steady her but Sarah knocked it aside. She quickly composed herself and launched another attack. Again, Eric dodged. He didn't try to land his own attack but continued to dance just out of her range.

Frustration and her growing rage mingled with a clutching pain that gripped her heart and forced her breaths to come out in sobbing gasps. Her vision blurred with the anger that this man was taking the identity of her friend and at the sadness of remembering said friend.

However, the pain from the night before was taking a toll and her attacks became unfocused and feeble. Her punches went wide and Eric was walking around her instead of jumping away as before. She gasped painfully, the fire returning to her shoulder where the bullet had been removed. Her legs shook and her hands trembled. All the while, the man gazed at her sadly with those crystalline eyes.

"Just go," Sarah gaped, catching her breath as she stood opposite her opponent.

"I've come to help you," Eric insisted, taking a step closer.

"Shut the hell up!" Sarah screamed. "You're not Eric. You don't even look like him. He's dead. He's not coming back."

He had come back to life only once to avenge Shelley. He had no reason to return again. Despite her constant dreams and wishes that he would come for her, she knew that they were only that: dreams and wishes. In reality, people didn't come back from the dead.

"I know I look different," Eric agreed, "I can't explain it. You're just going to have to trust me."

A sardonic, wry laugh erupted from Sarah's throat, making her seem far older than she actually was. "Trust you?" she asked in a voice coarse from shouting.

"I can help you," Eric continued, stepping forward carefully. "But you need to tell me why you're in trouble."

Sarah withdrew from his extended hands. She shook her head slowly in denial. It just wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

She took another step back.

Her foot didn't land on solid ground.

With a startled gasp, Sarah's heart caught in her throat as her foot landed upon open air and then her body fell back. Her other foot slipped and she fell through a hole in the floor.

The jagged floorboards bit into her legs and scratched her as she fell down. She reflexively threw out her arms and used them to brace herself against the outline of the hole. She cried out on pain as the wood dug into her chest and her shoulder protested angrily as she tried to keep herself from falling further through the hole. It was a long drop to the bottom.

Tired from her fight, Sarah panicked as she felt herself slowly lose her hold and slip back further into the darkness that had already consumed her legs.

Suddenly, the man was hovering above her. Kneeling on solid ground, he leaned over her and wrapped one strong hand under her arm; bracing himself with his other hand. He started to pull her up and her descent ceased. Thinking only of survival, Sarah threw one hand up to wrap around Eric's back; clutching the back of his shirt as she pulled herself up with his help.

As soon as her torso cleared the hole, she wrapped both arms securely around him as he pulled her completely clear of the hole. He pressed her close with one hand and pushed himself back; dragging Sarah with him and onto the safety of solid ground.

Gasping loudly together, Eric and Sarah sat still: Sarah still clinging to the man as he gently embraced her.

When her breathing had steadied and the pain in her shoulder had died down to a dull throb, Sarah pulled away to sit opposite the man that had saved her life. Eric gazed back at her patiently, his striking eyes boring into her.

"Prove it," she whispered. "Prove to me you're Eric."

Eric studied her for a moment; his expression impassive. Then his gaze dropped down to the necklace that dangled from Sarah's neck.

Wordlessly, Eric extended his hand. Sarah didn't pull away.

His fingers wrapped around the ring and lifted it up so both he and Sarah could see.

"A long time ago, I gave this ring to Shelley Webster. It was my promise to marry her and to forever be her husband," Eric began; his eyes never averting from Sarah's. "But I couldn't keep that promise. Not as her husband. We both died. But I came back to avenge her death."

Eric took Sarah's hand with delicate fingers and lifted her hand to the ring. He gently pressed the ring into her palm and closed her fingers around it; placing his own hands over hers.

"When my job was done, I gave it to you. I told you that Shelley would have wanted you to have it." He smiled. "I'm glad you kept your promise."

Tears welled in Sarah's eyes and Eric dropped his hands and sat still, waiting for her reply.

Sarah looked down at her clenched hand.

I'll never take it off.

She had made that promise before saying goodbye to Eric.

She looked up at Eric now; at the foreign face with those eyes of sapphire and hair of thick honey. She felt the first tears trickle down her face.

"Eric."

._._._._._.

So Eric and Sarah have finally met. Time for explanations from both sides.

I shall be waiting for your input Sarela, and for the input of all those who have been so supportive in the past. My updates may be far and few between but I appreciate all your reviews. Thank you to all my readers.

Until next time,
Hobey-Ho