so sorry this took so long! i really meant to get it done, but got serious writer's block. enjoy, and tell me what you think. you atually don't get a lot out of it. haha. i WILL try to get the next one done in less than 2 weeks
Emerging from the elevator, Marchette watched his charge closely. Something in her seemed to have snapped. Some lever in her mind had been thrown; some cog had begun to turn. She was cool and calculating with every motion. Perhaps that was how she was before her Awakening. When she knew and accepted what she was. Maybe that was the case now. Could she have come to accept her fate, no longer rejecting who she was or what she represented? Or maybe she was just furious at her situation and was venting her anger on those around her. Once safely on the plane, free of eavesdroppers, Marchette planned to investigate further.
Elaina was sorely disappointed when their vehicle pulled out of the parking complex, flanked by two motorbikes into the daylight. After more than two months living exclusively nocturnally, Elaina's first glimpse of day was grey, overcast, and foggy. There was no visible sign of the sun.
The bleak weather further darkened her mood. As ominous thunderheads loomed overhead the remaining passengers of the SUV had fallen into a nervous silence, wary of the Pure Blood who brooded in the back seat, glaring out at the sleet. Marchette was constantly glancing over at her from the corner of his eye from his spot beside her in the back seat. He noticed that the two Faithfuls in the front seats did the same. By the way Elaina rolled her eyes in disgust, the bodyguard knew she'd noticed.
The uneasy silence continued for twenty more painful minutes. It was broken sharply when Elaina sat up further and asked suddenly, "What's that sound?"
The Faithfuls' eyes both snapped to the rear-view-mirror. Cautiously, the driver said slowly, "I don't hear -- "
"Shh," Marchette cut him off. He heard it too. What was that? It was such a strange sound. It was nearly familiar, but still completely alien. "What is that?" He asked aloud. Confusion etched on his features, mirrored in his charge's.
Elaina looked thoughtful. "It almost sounds like -- " She didn't get to finish. Suddenly the ground heaved beneath the vehicle and a loud bang slammed the groups' senses. The SUV pitched violently sideways, rolling several times before sliding to rest on its side.
For an instant, there was quiet, then the two Faithfuls in the front seat, correction, one faithful in the front seat, began to moan. From somewhere nearby, there was a terrible scream of agony. Marchette was lying against the door panel, the handle digging uncomfortably into his spine. Dangling above him, restrained by her seat belt was Elaina. She had an expression on her face of one who was listening very hard. After a moment, she deemed they were alone.
Or as alone as they could get. Now seeing that his partner was no longer in the vehicle, and that his upper half was dangling upside-down, with his legs trapped in the wheel-well, the driver was in hysterics, yelling his comrade's name. Elaina was trying to shush him, but he refused to listen.
Marchette knew that by the look on Elaina's face, and the way she was miming strangling motions with a crazed glint in her eye, that it would be best if the driver were permanently quieted. With a tiny grunt, Marchette heaved himself up and, with the ease of breaking a twig, snapped the man's neck. The dying man gurgled a little but was silent nearly instantly.
"We shouldn't have killed him," Marchette admitted as he helped Elaina from her dangling state. "We broke the Faithful Code."
"There's a Faithful Code?" Elaina asked as she was set on her feet.
"Yes," he replied. "It forbids us from doing harm to those who serve us. That means no taking blood without permission and no killing them without reason."
"Oh, if that's all," Elaina said dismissively as she awkwardly climbed between the front seats and eased out the broken windshield. "He was going to die anyways. His spine was broken in such a way that it'd kill him just to move him."
"And you know this how?" Marchette asked, clamoring out after her.
"I saw it happen," she answered bluntly. "He was thrown sideways over the armrest because his shoulder belt was tucked behind him, rather than across his chest." She looked around for the other passenger, who, for the time, had fallen silent. "I heard it too," she added. "The sound of someone's spine breaking is quite distinctive once you've heard it a few times."
Marchette glanced at her sidelong as they approached the second Faithful. "How many other times have you heard it exactly?"
Nibbling her lip as she knelt by the man, feeling for a pulse, she absently answered, "Three times. This is the fourth." Gasping, she exclaimed, "He's alive," as she gripped his hand.
Staring hard, Marchette realized that the corpse was indeed still alive. His eyes shuttered minutely behind closed lids and there was a whisper of breath that escaped his bloody lips. He was terrible to look upon. Amazingly, his face was entirely intact, and but for a long scratch that ran from cheek to chin, it was completely untouched. Unfortunately, as perfect as his face was, it was how bad condition the rest of him was. One of his legs was just a grisly stump below the knee, while the other had had the flesh torn off all the way down to the bone, for the entire leg. His left arm was twisted behind him, so that his left hand lay at the level of his right hip; the right arm was twisted above him in some cruel gesture. His chest was deflated like an old ball, collapsing in some places more than others. Here and there, his rips poked through. This is what you get for not wearing a seat belt, Marchette thought critically. He wouldn't last long. He'd gone into shock and would die soon.
"Is there anything we can do?" Elaina asked quietly. She already knew the answer. The man had been crushed and dragged under the vehicle. No one survived that, especially not a human; a Vampire possibly, but not a human. She looked up at her bodyguard and knew he agreed on the course of action. He silently pulled off his jacket and moved towards him. "Wait," Elaina said, laying a hand on his arm. "I'll do it." She took the cloth and bundled it up, squeezing it for a moment to calm herself.
She turned back at last to the man and knelt by his side. For a moment, her features twisted in grief, until they became a mask of tenderness. With this soft and sad expression unwavering upon her face, she pressed the jacket over the man's face. It was rather peaceful. He was so far into unconsciousness and his body was so shattered, that he didn't struggle at all. He just laid there, a designer jacket blocking his airway until the Vampires heard his heart, already so slow and laboring, reduce to a stop.
For a moment she was still, collecting herself, then Elaina got to her feet, looking around. "Where are those men on the bikes?"
Marchette looked around. "There's one," he pointed. Elaina rushed to the fallen man's side. He was dead. Fortunately for them, his bike was completely intact. Only a large scratch that mired the paint was the damage inflicted by the blast.
The second bike was not to be seen. Sometime in the confusion, the rider had slipped away. On a hunch, Marchette inspected the rear bumper of the SUV. It and the rest of the back had been almost completely blown away. This must have been where the biker planted the bomb. The explosion of the SUV was what killed the man who rode in front of vehicle. Thankfully, there was a row of back seats, behind himself and his charge, which absorbed most of the blast.
"Who do you think he was working for?" Elaina asked, surprising Marchette as she came up silently behind him.
Shrugging, he answered, "it seems to obviously been the Danalli."
Elaina caught his tone. "You don't sound convinced," she observed.
"Its very obvious,"he said again, putting emphasis on the obviousness of the situation.
"You think it's a setup?" Elaina asked. The bodyguard nodded slightly. "I agree," she said. "But for the moment, lets just try to get to Haljir in one piece, ok?" She turned away and strode to the dead man's bike. Pulling it upright, she asked, "You want to drive, or should I?"
Smirking slightly, Marchette raised an eyebrow and commented, "I'd be a rather poor bodyguard if I allowed my charge to kill the both of us, because she was an inadequate driver."
Elaina made an annoyed face, "So you're driving?" she asked rhetorically.
Marchette grinned at her as he swung his leg over the bike, starting it. He glanced up at her, where she stood, arms folded over her chest, scowling. Raising an eyebrow, he looked pointedly at her, then at the seat behind him. When she glared, he grinned again. "Are you getting on or not?" he asked casually.
Rolling her eyes, Elaina sighed gustily before she climbed on the bike behind her bodyguard. Unseen by him, she made a slight face before wrapping her arms around his waist.
"You ready?" Marchette called, nearly shouting over the roar of the revving engine.
Elaina nodded before she realized he couldn't see it. "Yup," she said firmly in his ear, squeezing his waist a bit as well, to assure him of her grip.
Like a bullet they shot down the street, the wind causing Elaina's brown hair to stream behind them as it was teased free of its braid. They'd been going for about a minute when the skies opened. The raindrops were as large as coins and struck like shards of ice as they collided with the riders at high speed. Almost instantly the two of them were soaked. Marchette was forced to reduce their speed to ease some of the pain of the drops.
"How much farther?" Elaina practically shouted in Marchette's ear, barely able to hear her own voice over the bike and the rain. She was able to feel her bodyguard's reply vibrate through his torso, but his words were lost. After several frenzied minutes, they pulled into an above-ground-parkade, climbing to the highest level.
Marchette parked the bike and helped his charge dismount, before he tugged her in the direction of a covered walkway which led to the building the parkade was joined to. Marchette ripped a pistol from his waistband when they broke into a stairwell at the end of the walkway. He quickly scanned up and down the stairs, before pulling Elaina along behind him as he ascended.
After climbing about ten floors, Elaina ventured to ask, "Where exactly is it we're going?"
Marchette, who was still rather on edge, never broke pace as he answered, "Kegan's on the roof. He'll fly us to an airstrip, and we can rendezvous with the convoy later."
"Does anyone know he's there?" Elaina asked.
Shaking his head, the bodyguard replied, "No. I thought it best to have a secret backup plan. In case of an event like this."
"Sounds good," Elaina agreed. The plan made perfect sense. With one assassination attempt carried out, there could be more, harming innocent people. It was better to revert to a backup plan that few people knew about.
"Besides," Marchette said, as an afterthought, "my brother wants to avoid your niece Alexis. She seems rather smitten with him." He chuckled a little.
So round and round they went, climbing stair after stair. The level they'd entered the building was between the third and fourth floors; this skyscraper, rather small in size, was over 100 floors in height. They climbed every stair at a near run. They were both breathing heavily as they slammed through the access door to the rain-pelted roof. Under the eaves, they stopped as Marchette checked the stairwell behind them to be sure they weren't followed. As Elaina regained her breath, she realized she was very thirsty; painfully so. Gasping, Elaina slumped against the wall next to the door, holding her head.
When Marchette returned, he swore softly and exclaimed, "Miss Nichelle, I'm so sorry. I should have realized you'd be thirsty. I foolishly forgot how young you were." He looked around slightly hopelessly, then, almost grudgingly, extended his arm to her. "Here," he offered, "This should hold you over until you can hunt."
"Thank you," Elaina murmured before sinking her teeth into his wrist. Marchette grunted with pain and went very still. Elaina had only meant to drink for a moment, but she lost control. When she bit him again, she ripped into his flesh, causing him to yell with pain.
Kegan Marchette, who was lounging by the helicopter, just out of sight, heard his brother's cry and raced towards his twin. He found him on his knees before the young Nichelle girl, who was drinking greedily from his brother's arm. With a cry of rage, Kegan tackled her, ripping her away from his brother, his momentum launching them into the downpour. The girl snarled and struggled to free herself as Kegan pinned her to the concrete. "Calm down," he snapped. When she bared her teeth at him, he shook her, causing her to bang her head. That seemed to wake her up a little. She closed her eyes and a tremor coursed through her body. "That's it," he said softly, trying to soothe her. Her brow furrowed and she began to tremble, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she gasped for breath. Squinting through the rain, Kegan was relieved to see his brother had regained his feet. He called to his twin, "There is a janitor on the floor below us. Bring him here."
Nikoli took one glance at the woman he was guarding, and then ran off to find the janitor. Elaina's blood lust had gotten to the point that, if not treated with care, could manifest into Blood Rage. And that was a rather unpleasant thing when at the top of a skyscraper. The human was where Kegan said he was, so Nikoli easily picked the man up and dragged him back to the roof.
Upon Nikoli's approach, Elaina went very still. She could smell the human's panic, could taste his sweat on the air, and could hear his heart's steady, racing melody. Kegan waited until his brother was close, then released his captive, quickly rolling as far from her as he could. The man never stood a chance. He barely had enough time to squeak the foundation of a scream, before his throat was ripped apart. Elaina was through with him in under a minute.
Standing protected from the rain, the Marchette twins watched warily as their charge stood over the fresh corpse, drenched in blood and water. Her eyes were shut and she was standing very rigidly. It was Nikoli who braved the consequences by stepping forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, "Elaina," he asked tentatively, "are you alright?"
She turned to him and all the aggression and insanity had faded from her features, replaced by remorse and embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking at her feet. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Smiling, Nikoli clapped her shoulder and said, "I'm fine. But we should leave. Now." He glanced back at his brother, who nodded and lead the way to the waiting helicopter.
The trip to the airstrip was long and awkward. Elaina sheepishly apologized several times to both Marchettes, but they both refused them. Eventually, she just rolled her eyes and fell silent. She watched as the towers of Nephrita faded into the clouds, and wondered when, if ever, she'd find a permanent home. If she was going to have children, she wanted them safe, without the need to cart them around the world at sporadic intervals.
As she mulled over her future, she barely noticed they'd landed at a misty airstrip, only realizing their arrival when Nikoli exited the vehicle and turned to help her. Here, the downpour of the city had been reduced to a heavy, wet fog. They hurried to a small jet that stood ready about fifty yards away. Once onboard, Kegan moved towards the cockpit, while Elaina's bodyguard moved her aft. There were only a dozen or so well padded seats, and no one else in the plain. The intercom dinged, and Kegan told them to take their seats for takeoff.
Once in the air, Marchette pointed out an area further to the back of the plane, first a sort of sitting room, then a bedroom. Elaina took refuge there, instantly falling asleep on the massive bed, only to wake to return to her seat for landing. The plane had barely come to a halt when they were moving again, out of their seats and down the ramp, rushing across the tarmac to a second, larger plane. The interior was much the same as the first. There were more seats and people actually occupied about a third of them.
Elaina moved to an empty window-seat, with her bodyguard taking the aisle seat. Across from her, two more seats faced her, which were empty. Leaning over, she quietly asked the bodyguard, "Is this the convoy?" As he adjusted his seatbelt, Marchette nodded, his eye sweeping the cabin. He'd picked a seat that allowed him to watch every passenger on the plane. "Is the Neskab guy here?"
Marchette shook his head, still scanning the cabin. "These are all Lord Nichelle's retainers. Men and women he trusts." He turned to the younger woman, "With these people in charge of negotiations, it is unlikely they will break down, resulting in violence."
"Are things really that bad?" Elaina asked, a little nervous.
"Naw," a strange man answered, dropping into the seat opposite Elaina. "Ol' Nikoli just likes to see the worst in people."
Elaina raised an eyebrow and regarded the man. He was rather tall and well toned, with ebony hair and olive skin. He had quick dark eyes that were filled with intelligence and hid his emotions. A small smirk sat at the corner of his mouth. He seemed to radiate authority. "And you are?" Elaina asked arrogantly, though she knew he outranked her.
The man grinned and held out hand, "Jordan Nichelle. Good to see ya little sister."
