Many thanks to all those who left reviews for the last chapter. They were lovely to read. Thanks also to afrozenheart412 for thoughts and Lost in New York for encouragement; and to autumngold for the review of my one-shot 'As your friend'; sorry I couldn't send a reply.
Also thanks to Montana Angell and lily moonlight for the more or less gentle nudge to update :S.
Sorry this is so late. I have been getting the feeling that pressuring myself to update hasn't done the quality of my writing any good (nor me for that matter), so I've decided to take it a bit slower from now on.
Black Moon Rising – Angels in flight
"You know …" Flack looks at the foam that has sunken to the bottom of his coffee cup a little regretfully.
"You could have another cup?" Angell asks smirking.
"That too." Flack chuckles, "But what I had meant to say was that I think we should show Ms Wagner that surveillance tape on which Stella recognized that freak from the subway."
"You think he could have been one of those in the alley?"
"Well, you know what Mac says: everything's connected. And even if that guy isn't, with that website being promoted at the Hot Ticket I'd be surprised if not at least one of Mr. Anderson's customers is."
"Plus, Adam matched the chair leg to the grease and grime of that establishment." Angell's nose wrinkles slightly. She has seen worse places thanks to her work, but it's decidedly not a location she would choose to go to in private.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a ghoulish ring tone. She rolls her eyes.
Flack holds his cell an inch away from his ear to be on the safe side. "Yes, we will get our lazy asses back to the precinct." he eventually mutters in reply to the contorted stream of syllables that bubbles from it.
"You better not let Sinclair find out that you got that ring tone especially for him." Angell lets out a giggle as soon as she's sure that Flack has hung up. "What's up?"
"A young woman is at the precinct, claiming that she was attacked by a vampire slayer." Flack sighs.
"What? In broad daylight? Can't these freaks at least stick to the myth that vampires don't come out into the sunlight?" Whether that myth is true or not doesn't matter to her at the moment, she's just annoyed.
-o-
Stella pushes a defiant curl back behind her ear. "How could Sinclair think that the photos of the victims that appeared in the public came from here?" She smacks the back of her hand down on one of the pictures before her. "There's such an obvious difference between them and the way we take pictures of a crime scene."
"Yeah." Mac agrees, "But how would he know? He's not a CSI."
"Thank God he isn't. But you're not defending him, are you?" Stella looks at Mac curiously.
"Not even close." Mac snorts, knowing full well that Stella would never seriously think that. "I have even thought of giving some of the real photos to the press. We still have two victims to identify."
"True, but given the fright we've already had over this … it might cause another panic." Stella indicates.
"It might. That's unpredictable." Mac sighs, "You know why I prefer working with evidence to working with people." He returns his attention to the file before him, but looks up once again. "Those present excluded."
"I know that too." Stella smiles warmly, then turns back to the photos herself.
Pictures that were taken with the intent to reveal the truth, not conceal it. Objective, not aimed at rousing emotions. Though the one who took them might have been full of emotions. Danny.
Stella moves on to images of the footprints he has lifted. Two sets. Faint traces of ashes reveal the owners of the shoes have walked the alley after the 'staking'. Owners of terribly common pairs of shoes, and not enough of a print to reveal a wear-pattern. Stella squints at them.
"Was Danny able to follow those footprints anywhere?" she turns to Mac after a little while.
Mac flips open the appropriate page in the file. "Kind of, he noted that they led behind a dumpster and then back again. Not surprisingly no chance to follow them out of the alley though."
"I'd like to see what's behind that dumpster. It might be the magic exit of the alley." Before Mac can ask she hands him the images of the footprints, pointing at the heels of two of them. "See here? Same shoe, same size, but this sole here," her finger is on the image in Mac's left hand, "has a little extra. Guy must have stepped into something …"
"… and brought it along." The distribution of the footprints allows Mac to rule out the possibility of the little extra having been added in the alley. "Great job, I know why Ms Wagner's power of observation reminded me of you." Mac smiles at Stella. "And I'll have to commend Danny too for being so thorough." Mac's cell rings. He glances at the caller id. "Looks like I can do that right now."
-o-
Kendall watches her computer whiz through all the images of the website. She has decided to take a different approach, a less technical one than Adam. While he's still looking for who's behind this she tries to figure out what's behind this.
Bit by bit matches pop up on her screen, possible sources, meanings of symbols. A background story to the images. Her eyes scan through it all, making connections, coming to a conclusion.
"Archangels." she says.
"What?" Adam turns on his chair.
"Archangels. Somehow this website is connected to archangels. It uses all the symbols they are usually pictured with." Kendall explains, "Don't know how that is going to help though, how do you identify a bunch of people who think they are archangels? Even if they are really called Michael, Gabriel, or Raphael …"
"Or Uriel." Adam adds.
"Yeah, but I don't think that's a common name." Kendall looks back at her screen. "Like Selaphiel, Jegudiel, and so on."
"Which is why maybe we should start with them. And you don't have such a common name either." Adam can't resist making the remark.
"Hey …" Her retort is stopped by Mac and Stella coming sprinting into the room.
"Change of priorities." Stella calls out, "Lindsay was kidnapped."
The two lab techs just stare at her. Mac's eyes are drawn to the large screen between them.
"What's that?" he points at it.
"Uh?" Adam tries to shake the stupor off and looks in the direction. "That video was uploaded about two hours ago. Looks like somebody attempted another reenactment but the 'vampire' escaped."
"Find out where that came from." Mac requests.
"What?" Stella looks at him surprised.
That looks just like my dream. Mac's cell rings again. "Flack." After listening for a few moments Mac walks to Adam's desk and scribbles an address on a piece of paper. "Get me a picture of that." he points at it and turns back to the conversation with Flack. "You know where that crematory is that Danny and Lindsay went to? We need you there, Lindsay was kidnapped." He pulls his cell away from his ear in response to Flack's reaction.
Mac ends the call with a sigh. Just in time to look at the picture Adam has pulled up corresponding to the address. He recognizes it, the same building as in the video, the same building as in his dream.
-o-
"Now what?" the man looks at his fair-haired companion.
That one rubs both hands through his flaxen hair and eyes the woman lying motionless in the back of the van. "I don't know. Of all the people that could have walked by …" He waves in her direction with one hand. "Sure as hell didn't think she'd turn out to be a cop."
"Do you guys ever think about anything you do?" A third man joins in, not having been with them before.
The two shrug and look at each other like they don't see any particular reason why they should.
"Good thing you don't have to think of breathing." Or maybe that's a bad thing, for me. Michael growls inwardly. "Well, let me help you with the thinking part. Peter, Raffael," He looks at first the one then the other. "you are not leaving her here, is that clear!"
He watches them exchange another look which he feels is one of agreement, but still he waits until they get back in the van and drive off.
-o-
"Hey, what are you doing?" Hawkes asks, almost bumping into Danny in the dim light of the locker room.
Danny snaps his cell shut. "Don't really know, I mean, what can I do? I saw nothing, I can't help. What can I do but wait, and scream at myself because I didn't see a thing. Because I was too damn distracted to even notice that she was gone." He lets his arm pump up and down, the cell clasped in it. Wishing he could crash it into a wall, wishing that would help.
"It's only human that you were distracted." Hawkes attempts to soothe him.
Danny glares. "Sure, like it would ever have happened to you."
He's answered by a quiet look. "It could have. I wasn't there so I can't tell. There's something that will get to every one of us. And you know why Mac is so intent on getting evidence …"
"Because people lie!" Danny bursts out again.
Hawkes' voice stays calm, "Because people can be confused. Emotions tend to get in the way of thinking clearly, and also of observing. And it can happen to anyone."
Several emotions are at work on Danny's face. He crumbles. "Sorry I implied that you're not human."
"Don't worry about that." Hawkes says with a faint smile. "I know that I'm a little more cerebral than you. But dealing with your emotions does not just come naturally. It's also something you can learn. And I think you already have. Think about how you normally approach a crime scene."
Danny leans against the cooling metal of one of the lockers. His empty hand comes up to rub the bridge of his nose, remains in the air, pointing ahead as he begins to speak. "When I pulled up at the crematory there was this van right in front of us … white, pretty dirty. I think there were some stickers too."
Hawkes looks pleased. "I'll let Adam know."
"Thanks, I'd kinda like to stick around here for a while." Danny looks at the cell still in his hand and opens it again.
"Who are you trying to call?" Hawkes wonders.
"Lindsay. I know," Danny responds to Hawkes' surprised glance, "her cell is in the trace lab. But I know Stella won't answer it when she sees my caller id, and I thought …" he shrugs, "I wanted to leave a message on her voicemail so she can hear it when she comes back."
-o-
Lindsay tries to open her eyes but they are covered by something. Something covering her mouth too, and her nose. Something soft and a little fluffy, a cotton shirt maybe, she decides as her lips brush against the fabric. Her hands tied behind her back. She tries to remember what happened, how she got to wherever she's now. She tries to feel her surroundings.
Okay, just because I don't mind eating fried spiders doesn't mean I don't mind lying in … whatever that crap is.
She manages to recoil somewhat to avoid contact with a muggy substance but the stench is still all around. A mixture of various unpleasant smells, to be exact. And every single one of them seems to heighten the others, and be heightened by the lack of vision.
Still she's to some extent grateful for the cloth covering her face. She's pretty sure that none of the stuff around her has ever been on her menu, at least not in the state it's in now.
-o-
"So Mac has ditched you, hmm?" Sid asks as he comes across Stella on the corridor.
"Yes." she grumbles, "That is exactly how it feels. And now you're making sure that I'm staying put."
"Stella …" the ME begins.
"No. I'm sorry, Sid." Stella unfolds her arms. "Look, I don't mind that you guys care. I mean, it's what we do; we take care of each other. It's just that … I don't like the feeling that I need to be taken care of."
"And you don't." Sid points out. "And even if you do occasionally, well, we all do sometimes. Remember when Mac had the flu?"
The memory makes her chuckle. It had not been easy to take care of him. His pride must have been hurt, an ex-marine brought down by a tiny virus. And needing to be taken care of. Though she had done her best not to give him that impression.
"And there may be another reason he wanted you to stay behind." Sid continues, "Danny …"
"Is being taken care of by Hawkes. I think he needs somebody calmer right now." There might still be another reason, but damn it, Mac, if you're worried about that dream coming true then you are the one who shouldn't have gone to this place!
-o-
They drive in silence. Mac lost in thoughts, Flack and Angell deducting from the look on his face that it's no use trying to get him to talk. And tell them why he insisted on coming along when everybody else is working on finding Lindsay. So they focus on what is ahead of them. Mac wonders how it is possible that he has dreamed of that building but he comes to the conclusion that he must have been there at some point, during some case, and the image had been stored in his subconscious. But why dream of it now?
They climb a flight of steps, walk down a lifeless corridor. Flack stops at a door, a plastic sign on it bearing the number Lilia Henson, the woman who had been attacked, had given them. Mac crouches down to examine the floor in front of it. Angell walks further on.
Mac looks up. Why is that window open this time of the year? Mac shakes his head. Stop that, it was just a dream.
Before Mac can look down again he hears a door slamming open. His eyes latch onto Angell immediately. She squeaks, a sound of surprise and air being pressed from her lungs by the impact. She seems to be pirouetting with a man of whom Mac only sees dark clothes swirling.
Mac stands frozen, rooted to the spot, like he is caught in some stupid nightmare. He wants to run, he tries to run, but his body just won't obey him. Muscles in lockdown. Flack's voice reaches him like from very far away. An insignificant howl so full of meaning.
They see her fall. Damn window. In one heartbeat she disappears from their sight.
Mac's heartbeat hums in his head. Tribal drums. Old instincts, kicking in too late. What have I done? How could I let this happen.
Many thanks for taking the time to read. I really hope this chapter was okay, please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts. My muse tends to thrive on reviews. All comments are appreciated any time, and always replied to if logged.