Disclaimer: They're not mine. Please don't sue.
"Cut the chain," said Eliot between labored breaths.
"I can't," the girl replied meekly.
Waterston regained his composure and was calling others into the the library. Eliot could hear activity on the other side of the door.
"Yes, you can," he said. "What ever that thing in your hand is, it responds to you. Cut the chain." Eliot was quickly expending what little energy he had.
He let go of her hand and turned his head away from her, trying to pull the chain taught. "Go...". He closed his eyes, exhaled and waited.
Eliot felt the vibrations of the first blow and the crack of metal against metal rang in his ear. The second blow freed him from the restraint, not from the collar, but it was all he needed to be able to roll over onto his side. As Waterston lunged at him, Eliot put his hand over the girl's as she held the Staff and the two of them plunged it into his chest.
Waterston staggered forward and before he could pull the blade from his body, liquified into a shower of blood that covered Eliot and the girl.
Eliot, with his hand still gripping the staff flopped back down and looked up at the girl then at the staff. It began to vibrate and mist rose from the blade, light and transparent at first. Eliot thought his eyes were deceiving him and let go of the Staff so he could wipe some of the blood from his face.
Wood splintered with a violent crack as the library door was forced open. Eliot craned his neck and focused his eyes on the gun barrel that was pointed at him. Glass sprayed across Parker's limp body as police crashed through the window. These weren't neighborhood rent a cops. Eliot knew from the paramilitary gear, they were professionals. Twelve men drew their weapons and aimed them at Eliot.
"I've got three down here." came over their radios.
"Bring them up."
He must be the guy in charge, Eliot thought. He didn't know whether to be relieved or pissed off.
The girl still gripped the staff and she held it close to her chest. Mist still rose from the blade only it became thicker and it seemed to have a purpose. Wisps floated around the room moving close to Parker and then away from her. Eliot continued staring at the blade. Mist turned into apparitions. Bodies seemed more solid as they escaped the blade. The police also seemed aware of the staff and Eliot saw them look at each other as if they were trying to rationalize what they were seeing. The commander, however, didn't seem surprised at all.
"On your knees. Cross your legs at the ankles," ordered the the men.
"There's been a huge mistake," Sophie replied. "We're the victims here."
Eliot hadn't seen the rest of the team marched into the library. He exhaled deeply, relieved they were okay.
"Oh my God! Eliot!" Sophie screamed.
That was not what he wanted to hear. He couldn't look at her. He stared at Parker, willing her to get up but she didn't move. "Parker!" he called out in a feeble voice. "Sophie?" He lifted his head but a gun barrel against his temple limited his movement.
"Stand down!" The commander issued the order, his voice tinged with trepidation and fear.
Eliot turned his head back toward the staff. The apparitions became more forceful. Grey-white and faceless as they exited the blade, they rose up to the ceiling and back down, bobbing and weaving amongst the men. The girl huddled closer to Eliot and he put his hand on her leg, trying to reassure both of them. The first apparition floated toward them; its face began to take shape. Male features distorted by pain and anger etched themselves onto the gray murk. A high pitched wail escaped its lips. It got up close face to face with Eliot, shot up to the ceiling and then pitched itself into his chest.
Eliot was lifted off the ground, his aching limbs useless, as another apparition forced itself into his body. He caught a glimpse of the girl as apparitions swirled around her creating a vortex that also lifted her into the air. He watched them carry her higher and higher into the air, one by one becoming part of her. Two more apparitions broke off and invaded his body. He had trouble breathing. He felt like his lungs were on fire. The sounds of agony and grief pierced the air.
Voices broke through the haze. Eliot could swear he heard Nate and Hardison arguing with the police, but he didn't know what they were saying. He tried desperately to find them but he couldn't see anything except shades of grey. Another apparition flipped him over in the air and he realized he was also high off the ground and still another thrust itself inside him before the room when silent and he was dropped on his stomach.
He lay still for a moment and then rolled up onto his side. For the first time he could see the room clearly. He could see Nate and Sophie and Hardison. They stared at him and he didn't know what to say to make them feel any better. He looked closer at the police who had lowered their weapons.
The commander slowly approached them. When he opened his mouth to speak, Eliot saw the fangs. He heard gasps and knew the team had seen them as well.
"And the lamb will be bathed in the blood of the traitor," he said. "What is your name," he asked her.
The girl stood silent, still holding the staff.
Eliot coughed and spit blood onto the floor. The girl turned to him and then back to the commander.
"He's hurt. Please... Help him."
"Okay, okay.". The commander motioned to two of his men who went to Eliot and lifted him into a seated position. "Please, child. What is your name?"
"Victoria," she said meekly, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Victoria," repeated the commander.
"Long live Victoria the sixth!" A stentorian voice boomed from the doorway. All eyes turned to small group of well-dressed men who had just walked into the library. A tall man with dark features led the way.
"Minister Alexander, how did you get...how did you know?" asked the commander.
"This retrieval did not go exactly as planned but the mission was certainly accomplished," the Minister replied. He turned to the team who were kneeling on the floor. "Mr. Ford. Ms. Devereaux." He waved his hand and one of the officers freed the team from their restraints. He moved closer to Victoria who was trembling where she stood. "Your highness," he said as he bowed from the waist. "The Staff of Inigo has chosen its queen, our queen."
The rest of the men in the room, fangs bared, dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.
"Your personal guard," said the minister. " They are here to protect you."
The commander stepped forward. "It's all right. You are safe here." He held out his hand to her.
Victoria slowly reached out to him. She wavered a bit and then her legs finally gave out. The commander caught her and carefully laid her on the floor. "My name is Andre Mercier and you are going to be okay." Another officer came over and wrapped her in a blanket.
Eliot had closed his eyes again and leaned back against one of the men. He felt a familiar hand on his forehead. "Parker?"
"She's okay. It's me, Sophie. Nate and Hardison are with her." She put her hand on his cheek and brushed his blood soaked hair behind his ear. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
"Okay," he mumbled. Eliot's eyes were still shut. He felt a sudden spasm in his abdomen then lurched forward and vomited up more blood. The man behind him supported his shoulders, while Sophie held his head.
"Captain Mercier, we have a problem," the man said.
The commander turned to Eliot.
"If we don't...um. He's not going to make it."
Captain Mercier knelt down next to Sophie. "Back away," he ordered.
Sophie stared at his fangs. "What are you people?"
"I would think that would be obvious by now."
"What, vampires? No, vampires don't exist." Sophie shook her head, not wanting to believe her own eyes.
"Keep telling yourself that," replied Mercier. He placed his left arm under Eliot's neck.
Eliot opened his eyes and searched for the others. He saw Hardison, sitting in a puddle of blood, holding Parker. Nate appeared on his left side and he and the man changed places. Eliot rested his head on Nate's shoulder. "Nate," he said through a cough. "What..."
Nate cut him off. "Don't talk."
"Girl?" Eliot asked.
"She's going to be okay. A little shaken is all," replied Captain Mercier. "Sergeant, "I need some bolt cutters." He turned back to Elliot and Nate. "We've got to get this collar off."
The Minister saw what was going on and walked over to Eliot and Nate. "Is this man yours?" he asked Nate.
"Yes..."
"He is the Guardian," Mercier interrupted. "He's been injured. We don't have much time before sunrise."
The sergeant returned with the bolt cutters. Mercier turned Eliot's head to the side and with a loud crunch, the both the lock and collar separated and dropped to the floor. Eliot winced as Mercier examined the wounds on his neck.
"Minister, Waterston fed on him."
"How much did he drink?" The Minister looked worried.
"He drank enough to severely weaken him not kill him. Maybe three or four pints?"
"Three or four pints?" Nate repeated. "Can you help him?" He placed his hand on Eliot's forehead.
Eliot's head flopped back and his blue eyes stared out into space. He took a shallow, strained breath and then coughed. Nate used his sleeve to wipe the side of Eliot's mouth.
"If he hadn't been bitten, he'd be in better condition. The infusion shouldn't have done this much damage," said the Minister. "He won't survive as a human."
"We need to make a decision fast," replied Mercier.
The Minister knelt down next to Mercier and whispered quietly in his ear. "Offer him the blood. See how badly he wants to live."
"Wait," said Nate. "What do you mean by infusion? What infusion?"
"The infusion of souls." Mercier waved two of the men over. "The chaos you witnessed. Now I need you to support his head."
Nate cradled Eliot's head. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Please trust us. He'll be all right."
"No! Tell me what's going on!"
Mercier popped his fangs and bit into his own wrist, pouring the dripping blood into Eliot's mouth even as he tried to resist.
"Eliot, drink or you will die." Mercier looked to Nate.
Nate hesitated. "It's okay. Do what he says... Please."
Eliot reluctantly opened his mouth. Mercier rested his wrist against his bottom lip and Eliot began to drink. The blood felt warm and metallic as it flowed down his throat. He closed his eyes. Instinctively he grabbed Mercier's wrist and held it. He could feel Nate next to him, holding his head. Sophie squeezed his leg.
"That's enough from me." Mercier removed his wrist, another vampire took his place and Eliot continued drinking.
After a few minutes, Eliot stopped drinking and his whole body went slack. Sophie tried to jostle him awake. "Eliot, come on. Wake up." Eliot's head rolled to the side, his eyes open, unresponsive as he took one last breath.