I apologize for the long delay in the posting of this chapter. It took me a while to decide where this tale was going to go. After considering it, I have decided not to set this story post Breaking Dawn. Now, it takes place in the summer months between Twilight and New Moon. There will be slight AU moments as a result, but they will be minimal.
As stated in the previous chapter, the mythos of a third movie will very quickly become important to this story. This is the last chapter I will try to not outright reveal it. Just to see if anyone can guess. Full revelation to come in the next chapter.
Los Angeles, California. The next day.
Morning over the city of angels did not bring with it any fairer weather. A bit quieter—the thunder could now barely be heard over the sounds of traffic—but the sky was still determinedly trying to drown everything in sight. However, the night's deluge had given most of the citizens fair warning, and there was hardly a face in the morning crowds not hidden under rain-coats or tucked underneath umbrellas.
The parking lot of the city's municipal public library was more crowded than usual. The black car that turned in was forced to park in one of the furthest spots from the main doors. Today, however, Constantine had come prepared. As the driver's side door swung open, a black umbrella poked out and opened. He stepped out, pausing only long enough to secure his grip on a small dark blue plastic bag before pushing the door shut with the heel of his foot.
Nobody gave him a second glance as he crossed the parking lot and stepped through the main doors. It was warm and musty-smelling inside, the normal quiet broken by the squeaking cries of too many little kids running around. Constantine had to side-step one as he made his way towards one of the two ancient elevators at the far end of the building.
He was in luck. The elevator to his left immediately slid open when he pressed the arrow down button. And the door slid shut behind him before anyone could follow him in. He pressed the arrow to the basement level, leaning against the wall as the old mechanism groaned to life, and the elevator began to descend. As he waited, he shifted the bag in his grip again. The weight of it had been making one of his fingers fall asleep.
The elevator came to a grinding halt at the basement level. Constantine rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.
"It's me," he called to the empty elevator in front of him.
The elevator started moving again. Constantine grinned privately.
It did not take near as long for the elevator to sink down to the lower level no normal patron of the library knew about. He stepped forward as the door slid open to reveal a short carpeted corridor lined with plain wooden doors. The far end of the corridor opened onto a wide cavernous room and a forest of book and parchment-laden bookshelves. However, the only illumination came from an old lamp on a plain wooden desk just beyond the corridor. An empty dusty wooden chair sat in front of it, while a woman sat behind it, her arms folded over her plump belly. A pair of spectacles perched on the tip of her long nose. She smiled warmly as Constantine approached.
"You have not been here to see me in a very long time, John," she said in a deep voice. "What brings you to my library?"
"I brought you a gift, Hunter," Constantine replied, setting the plastic bag on the desk. "In return for a few moments of your time."
The woman's smile widened as she leaned forward to grab the bag. Constantine settled himself on the empty chair while she opened it.
"You like to spoil me, John," the woman said pleasantly as she revealed the bottle of good scotch. "This is a welcome surprise."
Constantine grinned privately. For being a surprise, Hunter was quick to set two small clear plastic glasses and an ancient looking tin of cookies on the desk before her. She filled both glasses and passed one to him. He picked it up and examined the silly designs on the side.
"Sunny LA?" he read aloud. "I never knew you were a community girl."
"Just because I spend most of my time down here does not mean I do not appreciate the world outside," Hunter replied, sipping from her glass. "I would be quite upset if anything happened to this city."
"Because whatever happens to LA happens to this library," Constantine added.
Hunter smirked and took another sip of scotch.
"So what brings you to my library today?" she asked companionably. "What topic do you wish me to peruse my library on? I am at your service."
Constantine privately thanked his relatively good looks and ability to be charming. He was one of a scant few who could get Hunter to willingly research topics for him. Most of the time, visitors were on their own. And there were more manuscripts in the forest of shelves beyond than in the rest of California, arranged in no semblance of identifiable order.
"I had an interesting conversation with Papa Midnite last night," Constantine began. "He said that Lu has chosen a new Rider, and that he might try to send him after me. Figured I better brush up on the subject."
Hunter cast him a long, thoughtful look.
"The Rider," she said quietly. "Interesting. You bring up very old history, John."
With some effort, Hunter rose from her chair and started towards the forest of bookshelves. As she slowly headed off into the darkness, Constantine saw her flex her shoulders. Slowly, a pair of wings materialized from her back, dark-speckled and wide. The rim feathers were slightly frayed, betraying her age to his expert eyes. She stretched the left to its fullest extent, easily a ten-foot reach. After a moment, she extended the other and fanned them slightly.
"You need to preen a little bit more," he called after her.
A soft chuckle echoed as Hunter vanished from view.
"It's a good thing you're cute, John," came her reply.
Constantine settled back in his chair, taking a sip of his scotch and glancing around at the otherwise emptiness of the room. There was nothing on the blank walls, and no other light except from the lamp. The sounds of life in the library above did not filter down. Everything was absolutely silent.
Hunter was gone for several minutes, giving him plenty of time to polish off the scotch and contemplate other matters. He normally despised seeking help from any half-breed, but Hunter was one exception in a web of prejudice he held, and which had grown even stronger since the fiasco with Gabriel. Being the caretaker of the library, she was very well known in the circles he walked in. It was work she did as an act of penance, for she had somehow managed to disgrace herself before God centuries ago. Constantine didn't know the full story, but he knew the fact that she still had her wings was a miracle.
Hunter reappeared very suddenly, at the same moment he had decided to open the cookie tin to see what was inside. Appearances were deceiving in this case. The ginger crisps looked completely fresh. She had a book the size of a folded-up newspaper in her hands, which she set carefully on the desk before resuming her seat. It was not very thick, but the paper was yellowed and Bible-thin.
"I have not looked at this book in many years," she said quietly. "The Rider is not a part of the balance."
"Yeah, Midnite mentioned that," Constantine commented dryly. "A lost soul, still possessing of free will, that rides around doing Lu's bidding."
"The Rider is charged with only one task, John," Hunter replied. "And free will…well, that's the whole point of everything, isn't it? The greatest ally, and the worst enemy, of both sides."
Constantine arched an eyebrow. Hunter studied him.
"What do you know about the Devil's contracts?" she asked.
"What don't I know?" he replied gruffly. "I lose my faith in humanity every time I hear one of those damned things has been signed." He rolled his eyes. "Selling your soul to Satan for riches, prestige, and whatever other bullshit a person could want."
"They are what we try to prevent," Hunter said, nodding in solemn agreement as she motioned to herself. "But the further a soul sinks into Lucifer's darkness, the harder it is to bring them back. And once they sign…they are damned. They forever belong to Satan, to do with whatever his wretched black heart desires. There is no redemption from it."
"Why?" John asked, for the first time distracted from his original purpose. "Why won't God save those who've signed their souls to the Devil? He has the power."
"Thou shalt not steal, John," she replied gently. "God expects all to follow the laws He has set forth, including Himself. He will never take what no longer belongs to Him." She paused, a finger slowly trailing down the length of the book's leathery spine. "What has been written will not be changed. Those who suffer in Hell will not be saved until the end days. Only those that manage to escape will be granted a second chance. You were brought back, and you used your second chance to do what no other in history has yet done."
Hunter abruptly smiled.
"You were forgiven your sins. You have earned your place in Heaven, as long as you do not stray from the path you are on now."
John did not respond. After a long moment, Hunter slowly opened the book and flipped through a few pages.
"The rules of the balance state that neither demon nor angel can directly interfere with the lives of mortals. We can only whisper into their ears, calling to their souls. But once a soul has been bound in a Devil's contract, they can never hear the angels' whisper again. A guaranteed point to Satan's score, if you will.
But free will always exists, up until the moment of death. A damned soul can choose to try to run and hide, to avoid fulfilling their end of the deal. And the rules say demons cannot take them from our plane while they are alive. When a soul tries to run, when a contract stands unfulfilled, that is when Lucifer unleashes his Rider."
Hunter settled on a page, adjusting her spectacles as she focused on the writing. From his angle, Constantine could just make out the miniscule printing. The book was written in archaic Latin.
"He comes with the fiery winds of Hell upon his heels. The strides of his steed are as thunder upon the earth, scorching the land as black as coal. Fire is his shield, death his spear, the Devil's wrath the fuel that fans the flames…."
"I get the picture," Constantine said, raising a hand to stop her narrative. "A big flaming pain in the ass."
"And yet, still human." Hunter slowly closed the book and pushed it across the table towards him. "This volume will give you a general history of the Rider, and a review of the more interesting contracts they have been sent to settle in the past. I hope you've brushed up on your Latin recently."
"I'll manage." Constantine rested a hand on the book. "Thanks, Hunter. You've cleared some…"
He stopped, his voice trailing away into the silence. Only, the silence was no longer absolute. The deep, low groan of the old elevator was echoing dully through the cavernous room. He exchanged a glance with Hunter, who appeared bewildered.
"Expecting anyone else today?" he asked.
Hunter did not reply. Her eyes were starting to glow gold in the dim light. Instantly, John was more alert. He knew from many years experience that half-breed angels did not betray the lights of their eyes unless another half-breed…or something else…was approaching.
"This…is unexpected," she said softly after a full minute of nothing but the groan of the elevator. "The Rider is here. And he is requesting entrance." She turned her unnatural eyes to him. "What do I tell him?"
Constantine stood and faced the short corridor and the dull metal door. For a short moment, he wondered how the Rider knew he was here. But he banished the thought almost at once. It wasn't as though he made any effort to keep his movements a secret—what was the point? He had no reason to fear the Rider. There was nothing Lucifer had at his command that he feared.
"Let him in," he said. "I've got nothing better to do."
Hunter gave him a contemplative look, then waved a hand slightly.
"So be it."
Constantine turned fully to face the elevator door as the silence settled once more. He heard Hunter shift her position behind him, and the soft scrape of leather against wood as she removed the book from her desk. But he ignored her. He waited expectantly, pleased to be getting his first good look so soon.
The elevator doors slid open.
Forks, Washington. Same time.
"All hail the conquering hero!"
Carlisle smiled as Alice's cheery voice echoed from inside the house. The sky outside was only just beginning to fill with pale morning light, which normally meant the house was still fairly quiet. Alice seemed to be of a mind to change the routine today.
Despite Alice's clear good mood, there was only one person waiting for him when he stepped through the door. His beautiful Esme met him with a dazzling smile and a gentle embrace. He set his bag down and put his arms around her, staring into her darkened eyes.
"I think you need to go hunting today," he said softly.
"I was just waiting for you, my love," Esme replied.
He didn't have a chance to say anything more, for at that moment Alice came dancing into the room. Carlisle smiled and reached out for her hands as she approached, guiding her final pirouette.
"Congratulations, Carlisle," she said sweetly. "The baby will be alright."
"Botulism," came Emmett's voice from upstairs. "How did you think of that one?"
"Just a stroke of inspiration," Carlisle replied. "The confirmation tests should be back later on today."
"And they'll be positive," Alice added.
"But at least the weather held off long enough for the Seattle Children's Hospital to send their helicopter for him," Esme said. "Are you still worried?"
"Dr. Aggers is a talented pediatrician. The boy will be well taken care of," he replied reassuringly. "And he promised to keep me updated…not that I really need that."
He smiled warmly at Alice, who beamed back. By then, Emmett, Jasper, and Rosalie had come down the stairs, expectant looks on their faces. He glanced at them before turning back to Esme.
"Alice saw the phone call," Esme explained. "You are invited to a conference in Los Angeles?"
"Yes," Carlisle replied, understanding. He turned to Alice once more. "Do you see weather being a problem?"
"It will be an unusually cloudy month," Alice said promptly. "There will be one afternoon when you will have to excuse yourself, but for the most part it will cooperate."
Carlisle wrapped an arm around Esme's waist. It was plainly obvious what his family was waiting for.
"Is Edward with Bella?" he asked, grinning as Rosalie rolled her eyes.
"Isn't he always?" Emmett answered.
"He'll be back shortly," Alice said.
More expectant looks. Carlisle laughed aloud, hearing Esme echo him.
"You might as well give in, my love," she said. "Are we allowed to come with you?"
"We'll be there for your presentation," Rosalie added brightly.
"Yeah," Emmett echoed. "We can't wait to hear all about…" He suddenly paused, his brow furrowing. "Lactate levels…and sepsis…"
Carlisle laughed again. He knew full well by the look on Emmett's face that he had just realized how uninteresting the topic was. Emmett had never had much interest in studying medicine and science.
"I think a family vacation sounds wonderful," he said. "Especially if the weather is going to cooperate."
"Well, it won't be too sunny," Alice said, now frowning slightly. "It'll rain a lot, though."
"Darn, and I really wanted to work on my tan," Rosalie said smoothly.
The tone of her voice made everyone burst out laughing. The light of new shopping opportunities was glowing bright in Alice's eyes. She paused only long enough to give him a hug and a quick kiss before taking Jasper by the hand and heading back upstairs, chattering happily. Rosalie and Emmett followed. Now alone again, Carlisle turned fully to Esme.
"Let's go," he said, one finger tracing the curve of her jaw tenderly.
Esme smiled again, leaning upward to steal a soft kiss. Then, she giggled girlishly.
"Race you."
She was gone in a flutter of cloth and a soft breeze out the front door before Carlisle could blink. He laughed aloud, pausing only long enough to pull off his jacket and hospital badge and drape them over the stair rail before taking off in pursuit.