(AN) AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hi one and all again one and all to another TBWC update yahoo (^.^), and just in time for Easter holiday as well coming up this weekend. Be warned though this chapter is less longer more or less shorter then the previous ones but we are working on chapter six right and will have it delivered for your reading pleasure ASAP. So enjoy the chapter five everyone and HAPPY EASTER to you all this weekend.
DISCLAIMER:All rights to Trinity Blood was created and © by late Yoshida Sunao, the anime directed by Tomohiro Hirata and produced by the studio GONZO, as well as a manga drawn by Yoshida Sunao's friend Kiyo Kyoujou. All © rights revered by their respective owners. I own nothing except © to this story, it's plot and it's OC's that will eventually show within later chapters.
Special thanks to one of my editors and co-partners in helping finally get this story off the ground and back burner dragonwriter24cmf check her own TB stories on which are awesome. Additional thanks to my second co-partner for also participating in helping with this story KinReynard check out her own TB story 'Devil His Due' whom I'm her beta for when possible. When one of my co-partners/editors are unable to continue the other will take over both are involved with this fan fiction as time goes on with it's updates. Currently right now dragonwriter24cmf is helping with the current chapters and drafts for the stories plot and outline.
Warning:This fan fiction is rated (M) AKA Lemon. This story is ABSOULTLY NOT suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 [So if you're under the age limit turn back now, come back when you old enough to read this. I'd rather not get flamed nor sued by parents whom are just looking for trouble in places their underage children should not be looking nor reading for that matter. This story contains strong explicit adult themes and sexual ones such slight foreplay - as in hand sex, one-sided yuri, bisexuality, Attempted Rape, Explicit Sex or anything else mild to hard core kinky for that matter!, references to violence, and strong coarse language. If this disturbs you, do not read any further.
Notice:Trinity Blood War Continuum takes place one month after the events from the anime's finale episode 24 along with some elements, characters and things that will be used and taken from both manga's Rage Against the Moons (RAM), Reborn on the Mars (ROM). In adttion to some spoilers from stories untold notes left by Yoshida Sunao which he intended to finish off the manga series supposedly. Basically 50/50 will be used on both the anime and manga to those whom are more familiar with manga then others will see this implants as the story develops. Trinity Blood is set in a post-apocalyptic world where the Roman Catholic Church/the Vatican is portrayed as a military and spiritual power. The series also strongly implies major and controversial changes in the Church of present reality, such as women being bishops, cardinals as well as romantic relationships and marriages between members of the clergy. If this disturbs you of form or shapeof or on imagination then do not read this story.
Trinity Blood: War Continuum - Chapter Five: Rescue and Reunion
Esther regained consciousness slowly. The first thing she noticed was that her head was pounding, especially the point just above her left temple. She almost cried out, then bit the inside of her cheek. She could hear voices around her, and until she knew more about her status, she wasn't going to give away the fact that she'd regained awareness. The second thing she noticed was the bindings. She was tied very securely, hand and foot, and from the way her arms were locked above her head it felt as if she'd been bound to a wall. Her feet, also tied securely, had been bound to her hands, so that she couldn't kick. She was tied against a wall, kneeling on her legs. She shifted surreptitiously, trying to see if the bonds were loose, but they weren't. In fact, if they'd been any tighter, she'd have completely lost circulation in her limbs.
Carefully, Esther opened her eyes a little, just enough to see clearly. She was in a small room, mostly unfurnished but for rough chairs. At least ten men were gathered around, talking quietly amongst themselves. Esther shivered, recognizing several of them from the attack in the streets. One of the men happened to look up at her motion, and a definite leer spread across his face. "Hey, look. Our little royal prisoner's come round at last." He stood, then walked over and bowed mockingly. "You'll have to excuse our hospitality, but we were under the impression you might be a bit…unruly when you woke up."
Since she was already discovered, Esther opened her eyes fully, and pulled herself upright. Her bonds didn't allow for much movement, and her head was still throbbing, but she was determined not to face them looking weak. "What kind of cowards are you, that it takes this many of you to watch one woman?" The man laughed. "Well, you're not one to take chances with, now are you? But…" He leaned down. "I'll tell you a little secret. We're not all here to keep an eye on you. We're all here, so that we can listen when the boss returns. He's upstairs, talking to the man who hired us right now, about what we're gonna do with you. And me and the boys, well…let's just say we're hoping to get a little fun out of this. Especially since you managed to land some lucky punches." One hand came out of his pocket, and slowly stroked her face. "You might find it fun too…majesty." His tone made the word sound obscene.
Esther turned her head and snapped at his hand. The man jerked back with a startled curse, and she glared at him. "Don't you dare touch me." The man looked at her a moment, then laughed. "Well, I like a spitfire." He grinned. "It's no problem to me. I can wait until the boss gets back." He shrugged, then settled back against the wall. Esther felt a sick sensation creep through her stomach. She'd been in similar situations once or twice before, but this felt…different. There were no brave companions, no kindly priests or guards here to help her. As far as she knew, she was completely, totally alone this time. Her weapons were all gone. She could see them, the two knives and the gun, sitting on a small table. She twisted her wrists in her bonds, kicked her feet slightly to try and loosen them, but it did no good. She twisted her neck, craning around to see the heavy ring she'd been tied to. She jerked at it a few times, but it was well embedded in the wall. She couldn't even get it to budge.
One of her captors laughed. "Keep trying. It's fun watching you." Esther shot him a glare. She was tempted to spit in his direction, but it would never hit him, and spitting wasn't a habit she'd developed. She settled for sitting back, giving him her best stare. Her hands still shifted, feeling for a weakness in the knots, as did her ankles. But whoever had tied her up had definitely been practiced. These bonds were tight. She felt her spirits sink. A sudden memory came to mind. She and Father Nightroad had once been captured by pirates, and she'd seen him squirm his way out of his bindings then. She'd asked later how he'd done it, and he'd told her. '
You have to keep up the pressure. Rope is flexible. Just keep pressing, then relax, and do it again. Of course, you also need to consider how much time you have, and how much damage you can afford to take.' He'd given her a brief, sheepish grin. 'I heal very fast. Actually, I strained more than one joint in that little break out, but…' The smile faded. 'There are times when it's worth it.'
The memory made her smile for a moment. Then seriousness replaced nostalgia. If there was ever a time when dislocating her wrist would be worth the trouble, it had to be now. She pulled her arms down again, her wrists pressing against the opposite sides of the rope. She strained a little, then relaxed, as if it she were just struggling uselessly. She saw the man leer at her again, but she ignored him, and kept her mind focused on Father Nightroad's instructions.
She'd been at it for half an hour, and had just felt the rope slacken the slightest bit when the leader of her attackers walked into the room. All of the men jumped to their feet. The one who'd been speaking to her took a step forward. "Well boss?"
He grinned, a feral smile that sent shivers up Esther's spine, then walked around the other man to squat in front of Esther. "Well, Your Majesty, it seems you've been leading a pretty interesting life. You've managed to piss off the Contra Mundi himself. I didn't get a lot of details from my contact, but it seems you've foiled some pretty big plans. They really don't like you. So when I told them we had you, trussed up like a bird on a spit, guess what they said." Esther bit back a cry as his hand shot out. She barely saw the knife he held before it flashed into the wall and embedded itself into the plaster right next to her head. The man leaned in closer. "They said to kill you, deliver your head to your advisors publicly, and your body to them as proof." He smiled again, and stood up. "We're gonna make an example outta you, for the Order."
The other men grinned and chuckled. Esther felt her heart constrict in terror, but she wasn't going to let them see it. The leader chuckled again, then turned to the men behind him. "So boys, since we've got our orders, any ideas?"
The man who'd spoken to her before raised a hand. "Yeah boss." He stepped forward, and gave Esther another leer. His voice was almost syrupy with exaggerated politeness when he spoke. "You know boss, I don't think the little Queen here's been enjoying our hospitality much. She's been trying to leave all evening. I was thinking it's only fair to make it up to her, especially with that greeting she gave us earlier. So perhaps, before we send her on her way, we should give her a little something. Maybe…invite her to dinner with us? I bet all of us together can show her a real good time."
The men around him chuckled. The group leader turned his head and surveyed Esther. "I think that's a good idea. But we don't want anyone to monopolize the lady. That's not fair." He considered. 'Tell you what. We'll draw numbers." He counted. "One through twelve. Everybody gets a turn to play. How's that sound?"
"Fair enough." The men were grinning now. Esther felt ice cold terror race down her spine. One man pulled out a piece of dirty paper and began writing, tearing it into pieces as he went. Another offered a hat. Esther turned her attention from the proceedings and jerked at her bindings. Broken wrist, dislocated wrist…it didn't matter. She kicked her feet wildly as well, trying to get free. She had to get out of here now. She saw her weapons over on the table, and struggled harder. She had to get free.
A hand slammed down on the rope around her wrists. Esther gasped, turned to find herself face to face with the Fluer du Mal leader. He gave her a slow smile. "Why miss, were you planning on walking out of here? After we agreed to treat you? That's not nice."
Esther snapped at him, but couldn't reach. "Get your hands off me!"
He grinned and stepped back. "Okay who's number one?"
The man who'd addressed her before raised a hand. "That's me."
"Right. And ten through twelve?" Three other men raised their hands. "Good. Well then..." He turned to Esther, his eyes suddenly gone cold. "Let's get her ready boys." The men moved in. Esther kicked and struggled, but it was no good. Two men grabbed her wrists and pinned them, while another undid the rope tying her to the wall. The rope tying her feet to her hands was also cut. Esther took the opportunity to lash out at them with her bound feet, but she was in a bad position. One of the gangsters simply grabbed her ankles and rendered her immobile. Esther shuddered as a rough hand stroked up her leg and thigh, to just under her skirt. Other hands were touching her sides, roughly pulling her shirt free and slipping underneath it. One of the men holding her wrists slipped a hand down and squeezed her chest. "Not bad." Esther snapped at his hand, and he pulled back with a laugh. "Hey, I'm number seven." One hand stroked her cheek. "Save some of that spunk for me."
The men jerked her roughly to her feet, then off the ground. She hung from their grips, while another man knelt and caught her ankles. He looked up. "Well, it's not a bad view from here, boss." One hand rubbed across her legs, and Esther fought the urge to be sick. He snickered. "Well, these leggings of hers hide a bit." The leader grinned and stepped forward. "You know, I think you have a point. Let's see what we're getting." His hands shot forward, gripping her shirt. He ripped downward, tearing the front of the shirt in two. Esther twisted, but it didn't help. The men holding her arms chuckled, as did the leader. "Hmmm…not bad at all." His hand fondled her breasts. "Although…I don't think you need this." He hand moved again, and Esther saw her bra in it as he moved away. Esther felt her cheeks turn red with humiliation, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. She let her anger fill her eyes instead, glaring at the man. "You bastard." Something flickered in his eyes, cold and predatory. He moved forward, till he was almost nose to now with her. "Watch your mouth, little princess." Then that dangerous smile was back on his face. "You know, I do believe my man is right."
Esther gasped as his hand shoved up under her skirt and grasped the waist of her leggings and her underclothes. She didn't even have time to consider moving before she heard the sound of ripping cloth, and felt cool air on suddenly exposed flesh. The man holding her legs let out a whistle. The leader grinned, a knowing leer, and Esther gasped again as his rough hand touched her, ran across her. She squirmed, and he let out a low laugh. "You do that. Feels good to me." He moved closer, his hot breath in her ear. "Makes me…excited, you know." He leaned into her, and Esther felt the bulge in his pants. He shifted his hips a little. "See?"
Esther jerked and tried to head-butt him. He moved out of the way with a slow, lazy smile on his face, then turned his head to look at the men holding her. "You were the last three, right?" Esther couldn't see them but she guessed they must have nodded. "Good. We'll just rotate through." He turned to the man standing behind him. "When you're done, take the number ten place. And remember…" He gave the other man an almost playful grin. "Don't be too greedy. Leave enough dinner and fun for the rest of us."
"Sure, boss." He leered. The one holding Esther's left arm spoke up. "So, how do you want her?"
The other man considered a moment, then a nasty smirk spread over his face. "I want her on her back, on the ground. But prop her head up on something." He moved forward, and seized Esther's jaw, while his other hand stroked her between her legs. "I want her to see…everything."
The men laughed. Esther felt their grips shift, but she had no time to take advantage of it before she was dropped roughly on her back, hard enough to wind her. One man shoved something hard under the back of her neck, forcing her head up so she was gazing down the length of her own body. One man seized her arms and pinned them. If they hadn't still been bound together, she might have broken free, but the rope was still too tight. She twisted her wrists, but he just gripped them more firmly. His partner moved to kneel by Esther's feet. The other men moved back, settling in a loose circle around them. Esther looked up at the leering faces and felt her heart sink. Every face held an identical expression of lust and amusement. The man grinned as he removed his dirty jacket. "Spread 'em." Esther gasped as the men roughly pulled her legs apart, leaving her exposed. She kicked her feet, twisted her legs, but their grips were too strong, and pinned as she was she had no leverage at all. Then the man knelt between her legs, and his hands pinned her thighs.
He grinned, and stroked her thighs with one hand. Esther shuddered at his touch, and he smiled nastily at her. "Nice, soft skin. Feels real good." He stroked upward, then with a lunge, he was leaning over her. One hand supported his weight, while the other shoved the remains of her shirt back to expose her chest. He fondled one breast, tweaking it. "Not bad either." Esther jerked. "You monster." Even to her, her voice sounded far too strained, too high. She could hear the fear, and so could they. She heard the amused chuckles from around her, he grinned, a silent response that was worse than any verbal he could have made. Then his hand moved lower, and she felt him flip her skirt up, exposing her. There were hoots from the men around her. She gave a cry as his hand shoved up into her, running across her, his fingers sinking into her body. She thrashed, struggled, and writhed, but he only smiled as his hand continued it's invasion. He leered. "You're virgin territory. My lucky night."
He sat back, a mocking sneer as he rose to his knees. Esther's head was tilted so she couldn't help but watch as he slowly undid his belt and shoved his pants down from his hips. She closed her eyes against the sight of his body, his male parts. Then suddenly, a hand seized her jaw. A rough voice spoke in her ear. "Open your eyes. Look at me, or I swear it's gonna get a lot worse for you." Esther's eyes jerked open involuntarily, looking into the eyes of her assailant. He smirked. "Actually, it's about to get worse anyway, but I wanna see it in your face as I violate you." He bent his head and licked her neck.
Esther jerked her head away. "No…you monster!"
"Yeah." His face came back into her line of view. Esther felt his weight shift slightly, and something hard and hot pressed against her lower body, between her legs. She gasped. "No."
"That's right. Scream for me." He bent his head again. Esther felt the fangs brush her neck, and the pressure at her lower regions increased. She tried to struggle, but there was no way out. Involuntary tears filled her eyes. "No!" Someone please….Father Nightroad….
The door to the room exploded inward with a jarring blast. Esther gasped, heard her attackers swear. The grip on her loosened a little. She immediately jerked trying to break free. Then, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a flicker of light, like lightning indoors. The glow sparked a memory and she involuntarily shut her eyes. The next instant light exploded in front of her face, blinding even behind her closed lids. She smelled ozone and burned meat, and the pressure on top of her disappeared. Esther jerked, feeling her hands and feet come free. She rolled, moving even with the spots dancing in front of her eyes, and got into a crouching position near a wall. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision enough to see where the table that held her weapons was standing. She saw it, a few feet away, just before one of her captors lunged at her. Esther flinched back to run, but before she could move, a figure appeared between her and the other. A dark clad arm moved sharply, and Esther heard a scream of surprise and pain. A hoarse deep voice spoke. "Enough." Her heart stuttered. She'd heard that voice before. She knew that hand, still outstretched in a protective gesture. She blinked, then scrubbed the last of the spots and tears from her vision.
A figure stood in front of her, his back mostly turned. Esther's eyes went to the hand still outstretched in front of her. The skin was dark, dusky colored. Long nails, like claws, tipped the fingers. Her eyes shifted to the form in front of her, and her breath caught in her throat. The man before her wore the robes of a Catholic priest. Though she couldn't see his face, he was tall, and slender. Above the high collar of his outer robe, silver hair glittered, fanning upward and outward in a strange way that resembled a crown. The air around him crackled, and Esther could feel the electric energy that swirled around him. She opened her mouth to speak, to say something, but he spoke first. "Are you hurt?"
She swallowed, her mind gone blank. "No…I…"
He didn't turn to face her, but somehow, he'd removed the outer robe of his garments, and reached back to hand it to her. She took it from his hand, blushing as she remembered the state she was in, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She saw his body shift as he turned his attention to the men standing by the far wall, crouched in defensive positions. "You're the members of the Fleur du Mal." The brief note of concern in his voice had vanished, replaced by ice. "Rumor has it you work for the Order of Rosenkreutz." The leader shifted away from the wall. There was a cut across his forehead, but his eyes were hard and arrogant. "So?"
"I have some questions I want to ask you." Esther felt a brief thread of fear go down her back at that harsh, implacable tone. The leader laughed. "Hah. You think you can take us all on, and still protect that girl?" He sneered. "You might have taken out a couple of my men with that electric trick of yours, but I don't think you can do it again. Besides, if you move, my men will take that girl." At his words, the remaining Fleur du Mal members began fanning out. "I'll admit you surprised us, but it's not going to help you now."
"This is your last chance." The figure before her didn't seem concerned. A slender figure appeared in the doorway. Esther saw light glint off of blond hair. "Father Nightroad, do you need some assistance?"
The voice was young, boyish, but with a mature, sober quality that only an adult could possess. Esther felt her heart stutter again. She knew that voice as well. "I'm fine. But get the girl out of here." Her protector shifted. "I want both of you out of the building. I'm afraid I'm in a bad mood right now. I think…I feel a rampage coming."
"Understood." There was a shimmer in the air, and Esther gasped as Ion Fortuna appeared beside her, a short blade in one hand. "Let's go." He didn't give her time to protest, simply looped his free arm across her waist. "Hold on." He took a single step, and Esther felt it as his body began to speed up into haste mode. She saw one of the Fleur du Mal members lunge for them, but before Ion could even bring up his sword, a jet black wing stretched in front of them. The dark cloaked man in front of her shifted, and another scream rang out. Then they were through the door, out of the room and Ion was racing down the hall. Esther barely had time to breathe before he threw himself down a flight of stairs and out an already broken doorway. Esther wanted to stop, to turn back, but her mind and body felt like they'd gone numb.
The only thing she could think of was that black and silver form, standing guard over her. Ion's words echoed in her mind. Father Nightroad….
They burst out onto a badly maintained lawn of a derelict house on the very edge of Londinium. Esther knew roughly where they were. This house was so far out, it was in what was considered countryside. She turned her head back to look at the building, but Ion didn't slow down. He didn't stop until they were into the trees. Finally, he slowed, and halted in a clearing. His hand released it's death grip. "We should be safe here. Even if they escape…"
Esther turned, and put a hand over his mouth. "Ion? Your Excellency, is that really you?"
Ion stared at her. The moon overhead illuminated them both, and she saw his eyes widen. "Esther? But what are you doing here?"
"I…" She looked away. "I was looking into something and those men captured me, and they…" She stopped. Her gaze turned slowly back toward the house. "That man…was that…Father Nightroad? Is he really with you?" She took a faltering step towards the house. "Esther wait." Ion grabbed her arm, his grip gentle but, more than firm enough to stop her. "You can't go back in there. I can't let you." Her emotions erupted, the hysteria of the past few hours bursting free. "You have to let me go! He's outnumbered ten to one! You have to help him! Let me go!" She wrenched at her arm, trying to break free. "Esther, no!" Ion took her shoulders. "It'll be fine. He can handle it." He held her gently. He lowered his head, then turned to look at the house as a distant scream rang out. "It will be all right. But it's not safe to go in there. You heard him say he's in a bad mood. And he told us to leave."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Esther felt the emotion choking her throat.
"We have to help him."
"Negative." Esther spun around at the quiet monotone from the trees. Seconds later, the familiar form of Father Tres moved into view. He was gazing at the house. "It is not advised to enter the premises at this time."
"Father Tres." Esther breathed the words. The android priest turned to her. "Lady Esther Blanchett. Why are you here? You should be within the walls of Buckingham Palace."
"I know." Esther flushed. There was no criticism in Tres's tone, but there didn't need to be.
"I…I was just trying to figure some things out, so I…"
"It is inadvisable for Your Majesty to be wandering around unattended." He paused, and she saw his eyes go over her. "My lord Ion, it would seem Lady Esther is in need of some replacement apparel." Ion started, and Esther saw him take in her state. He blushed, visible even in the moonlight. "Esther, I'm sorry." He shifted, then removed his jacket and handed it to her with his face turned away. "I…I was just…here. It's probably not the best fit but…"
"Thank you." Esther took the jacket from him. Her hysteria was subsiding into numbness again. She took the jacket from him, knotted the torn rags of her shirt around her chest, and then slipped the jacket on and fastened it. It was a little tight, but wearing it, she felt better, more decent at least. She shivered, and wrapped the black overcoat of she'd been given back over her shoulders. She took a deep breath, aware then of the faded smell of ozone and clean earth, and subtle church incense. A smell she associated with Abel. There was another howl from the interior of the house. Esther started, then took a step forward. "Father Nightroad…"
Ion's hand stopped her. "He'll come out when he's done. But I can't let you go in there."
"Positive." Tres spoke from beside them. "According to statements my lord has made within the past twenty four hours, it is highly likely that entering the house would be hazardous to both of you."
"But…" Esther looked from one to the other. Ion shook his head, his own gaze going to the house. "He's…different. I don't understand it, but when he says he's in a bad mood…it's best to leave him alone. He…sometimes, it's like he needs to get into a fight. He told me it's important. But when I began travelling with him he ordered me to stay away from him when he fights. When he says he's on a rampage…" Ion shivered. "He said it was dangerous to even be near him."
"Positive. In my lord's present condition, approaching him during combat is extremely dangerous."
"Dangerous? But why?" Esther stared up at the house, dread in her heart. She didn't understand. What had happened to him? She remembered the coldness in his voice as he'd addressed the men in that room. Even angry, he was usually merciful. But his voice had been totally unforgiving. There was silence from inside. Esther stared up at the building. She was dimly aware of Ion letting go of her arm, and of Tres standing guard beside both of them. But her thoughts were on the man she'd left inside. Knowing he was so close made her heart start pounding. She found herself remembering that terrible night, the night she had seen him die. And the night she'd seen him rise again, and had stood by his empty coffin, helpless to do anything for him. The sick, anguished feeling she'd felt, the concern that had occupied her mind over the past four months rose up inside, blanking out everything else. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold it back, but it overwhelmed her.
"Esther?" She heard Ion speak her name, but it didn't matter. She stared up at the building, praying for a sound, any sound to break the bleak silence, to tell her what was going on. Praying for that familiar form and that gentle face to appear in the doorway, or in a window, to tell her everything was all right. The silence built. All at once, it was too much. She couldn't stand still, simply waiting for him to return, waiting to hear the news. She didn't even think about it. Her mind was still drifting as her feet made that first step, and then she was running, running back toward the dark house, heedless of everything but the sudden, overwhelming desire to see him again. She was nearly to the steps when she felt a hand grab her arm.
She looked back into Ion's concerned face. "Esther, you can't…"
She didn't even respond. Somehow, she jerked free of his grip and raced inside, leaving him on the threshold. Her boots clacked on the rough floors, the only sound she could hear in the silent building. Esther froze on the landing, biting her lip. The silence was worse than the brief screams had been. She couldn't hear anything but her own breathing. She hesitated, and then her feet began to move again, back toward the second floor and the room Ion had taken her from. She almost flew up the steps, and stumbled down the hall, her wide eyes surveying the rooms. Father Nightroad…
The third door on the left had been blown into smithereens, the wood of the frame charred and splintered. Esther stopped in the doorway, feeling her heart skip a beat as she surveyed the interior of the room. It was a charnel house. There was virtually no blood, oddly enough, but there were splashes of gore in huge sprays across the wall. The bodies of her assailants were sprawled across the room, some of them bearing huge wounds, others marked with horrible burns. The stench of ozone and burned flesh hung thick in the air. Her mind lost in a haze, Esther barely realized that the blackened corpse on the far wall was the man who'd come so close to raping her. Her eyes drifted over the body of the leader, a huge slash wound across his chest, and over the other men. Some of the bodies weren't even intact. She felt a dim sense of horror at the scene, knew that she should be feeling sick. But as her eyes focused on the figure in the center of the room, the rest of it faded. All she could do was stand and stare at the man before her.
Abel Nightroad stood in the center of the room. He was facing one wall, his long silver hair, falling free over his back. Esther saw one hand reach up to clutch his chest, and his jaw tightened, as if he were in pain. He took a few staggering steps forward, and she saw him reach out and lean against the wall. In the silence of the room, she became aware of his harsh breathing, but she couldn't move. She watched as he turned and leaned his back against the wall. She couldn't see his entire face, just the side, but his expression was strained, his teeth clenched. Finally, Abel shifted again. He slowly straightened, taking his hand away from the wall and standing upright. Esther saw him glance at the back of his hand, and his shoulders tightened. Then he sighed, reached up to a pocket on the breast of his uniform, and withdrew a pair of glasses and a black ribbon. He slipped the glasses over the bridge of his nose, then began to tie his long silver hair back. It was such a familiar gesture that Esther felt herself start to relax again. She watched him as the lights of the room touched the edges of his glasses, and illuminated his hands and his long hair. Esther moved forward to speak, and her eyes caught on the back of his hand as he lowered it. Her breath caught in her throat once more.
His hands were bare, uncovered by the gloves he usually wore, but she saw clearly the odd markings on the back. A stylized haloed cross, drawn in lines and dots like an odd children's drawing, covered the back of his hand and wrist. The circle of the halo was perhaps an inch and a half across, divided by the arms of the cross. Sunburst marks, at the points of the compass, radiated from the circle, connected by odd dots. In the dimness of the room, it looked as if the marks had been cut or tattooed into the pale skin. The color was an odd purple black that reminded her horribly of partially dried blood. She gasped, stepping forward. "Father Nightroad…"
Abel stiffened, his whole body going rigid. His head snapped around, and she saw his eyes widen. "Esther?"
She took another step forward, and saw then that the stylized cross on the back of his hand also touched his forehead. She reached out. "Father, your hand…your face…are you all right?"
He jerked his face aside. "I'm fine. You shouldn't be here." He turned away from her completely, and she saw him pull his hands from sight, hiding them in his sleeves. "I thought you were in Buckingham Palace." His voice was rough, and she couldn't distinguish the emotions in it. But the low sharpness of it, and the way he turned away from her stung like a slap. She could almost see him shutting her out. "I…I was trying to…I heard there might be…"
"It's dangerous." She shivered. She'd heard him sound like this before, in Carthage and in the Underground. Cold and harsh, withdrawn from her. As if he was a stranger. She reached out. "Father, I…"
He turned and headed for the door, not even looking at her. "You should rejoin Ion outside. I have some things I need to take care of. Tell Tres I need his help." He stopped for a moment. "We'll return you to the Palace as soon as we're finished here. I'll have Tres contact the Albion government and let them know."
"Father, wait!" Esther reached out. "Please…"
He hesitated a brief moment. "I have work to do. You should collect your weapons and rejoin Ion." Then he disappeared into the darkened hallways. Esther stood still a moment, then moved over to pick up her gun. Her hand came to rest on the table. She felt tears stinging her eyes, and bit her lip. She'd known that there might be problems seeing him again. She'd known that when she'd heard from Seth that he wasn't talking to anyone. But that cold dismissal, the anger and pain she'd heard lacing his voice when he'd spoken, those were things she hadn't expected. Her hand clenched over the gun.
Does he really hate me so much? I know…I know I got him killed, that he died because of me. Was it really so terrible? And what were those markings? Did something else happen to him, something else I caused him to suffer? The tears broke free to splash on the table in front of her. Oh, Father…I'm so sorry. I hope…I hope you'll at least give me a chance to apologize. Dear Lord, please, let me have a chance to tell him how sorry I am for the terrible thing I've done to him.
She sent the prayer to God, and then moved to scrub the tears from her eyes. She couldn't apologize to him if she was standing there weeping. She grabbed her knives, and her gun. She spotted her torn clothing lying in a nearby corner and, after a moment of hesitation, walked over. They were all dirty, and her pants were too torn to be useful, but she thought the undergarments could be knotted together. She shivered, aware again of her exposed body underneath the skirt and Ion's jacket. She hurried into the clothing, tying it in quick double knots at her hips and the center of her back, then shrugged back into the borrowed jacket and went through the door. She paused, considering looking for Abel, to try and speak with him again, but the memory of that cold dismissal stopped her. After a moment, she turned and went down the stairs back out into the night to wait for him.
dragonwriter24cmf (AN) AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those who are wondering, Abel's new markings are similar to the ones Lilith has, however they are slightly larger, mimicking the cross he wears somewhat. They are caused by his nanomachines fusing to Lilith's during an extreme transformation.