VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 19:47:29 02/11/05 Fri
Author: Slally
Subject: "Blood Seduction" - Chapter 65 (R)
In reply to: Slally 's message, ""Blood Seduction" - Chapter 61 (**** NC-17 ****)" on 21:35:30 10/29/04 Fri

As always, my thanks for your lovely feedback. Please continue to let me know that you are reading. It is the dialogue between us, knowing how you are reacting to the story, that keeps me coming back to post more...

***********************************************************

Ian was surprised to find the master bedroom empty. Then, he realized his brother’s location. Dev had been wounded, had needed to talk; of course he had gone to find the one that he perceived to be his only friend. As Ian neared the bedroom of the computer whiz, he heard soft voices behind the door. Letting his resolve pull him up to his imposing six foot plus height, Nottingham stood quietly for a moment, gathering himself. When he had quelled any misgivings, he knocked on the door. The conversation within abruptly stopped. Almost immediately, Gabriel called, “Come.” When Ian opened the door, he instinctively scanned the room carefully, as was his habit. The long years of training and conditioning were as ingrained as fingerprints. He took in Gabe stretched out on the bed and immediately picked up the undercurrent of deep concern that contradicted his relaxed appearance. The cause of young Mr. Bowman’s anxiety was just as obvious. Ian’s discerning gaze shifted to sweep over his clone. He had not looked far before his dark brows knit into a frown; he did not like what he saw. Devian was stretched so tight that the brush of a feather would cause him to snap. The thought of someone with the clone’s unique attributes “snapping” was disconcerting. Ian decided that Gabriel’s clear concern for Dev was more than justified. The clone needed an intervention and he needed it now.

Ian stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against the closed door, and crossed both his ankles and arms. Squinting slightly at his brother, he said, “I was going to ask you if you’re alright but I can see that you’re not.” Dev’s sensuous lips thinned. “What the fuck,” he hissed, “Am I wearing a sign? Did Sara tape a paper saying ‘Kick Me’ to my back?” The clone was being sarcastic, Ian thought, but he wasn’t really so far from the mark there. Ian shrugged. He was not smiling. “She might as well have,” he pointed out. From the bed, Gabriel loosed a victorious, “Hah!” Devian swung his head to glance morosely from one man to the other. His tousled, silky curls slid across his broad shoulders with a soft, slithery sound. Frowning now too, he held up one long-fingered hand in a gesture of restraint. “We are so not going to go there,” he growled, adding, “Not with you.” He began to rise from the chair. He was obviously preparing to make his escape. “Sit down!” Ian barked. His voice was like the crack of a pistol. Both Devian and Gabriel jumped. Golden eyes wide, the clone pressed himself back against the tortured cushions behind him. He apparently had decided not to go anywhere. Recovering from the shock of seeing such stark aggression from the usually mild Nottingham, Gabe lifted his hand to hide a grin and coughed delicately into his palm. His good buddy glared at him from the chair. “Are you two in cahoots?” he asked. Gabriel cleared his throat nonchalantly and lowered his hand. Studying his fingernails, he replied, “I don’t even know where that is.”

Devian sighed and set his shoulders. After all these months, Ian had become adept at reading his brother’s body language. The clone was bracing himself for another blow. “Did she send you up here?” Dev asked, “What have I done now?” Ian smiled grimly, wondering how he had taken on the role of messenger between the Wielder and her Other Protector. “As far as I can tell,” Ian replied, “You haven’t done anything wrong. And, in case you were wondering, I don’t think you’re a monster either; no more than I am, at any rate.” The clone’s big eyes widened again. “Thanks for saying that,” he replied, somewhat subdued. Ian inclined his head in response. The hint of a smile touched Devian’s lips; there was no joy in it. “I bet that she doesn’t share your opinion, does she?” he asked. Giving himself some time to think, Ian moved over to the bed and sat down at the bottom, facing the clone. He folded his hands in his lap and dropped his head for a moment. Both Dev and Gabe watched the other man gather his thoughts: Gabriel curiously; Devian tensely.

Ian finally lifted his head to look directly at the clone. “If you plan to base your happiness on Sara’s feelings toward you, Dev,” he suggested, “You have a miserable future ahead of you. Again, I speak to you as the voice of experience.” The clone’s tawny eyes narrowed and he leaned forward aggressively to ask, “And did that amazing insight keep you from throwing yourself headlong into the flames, Ian?” Ian Nottingham’s answering grin was both charming and self-deprecating. “Of course not,” he said, “But I’m hoping that you will be smarter than I was. You’re always talking about being the new and improved model. Prove it. Why don’t you make a start by dealing with this hopeless relationship better than I did?” Dev bent forward a little more. Now, there was a scant foot separating him and his brother. “But look at where you are now,” the clone murmured, “In her life, in her bed, in her heart.” Ian shook his head. His expression was serious now. “Lightning does not strike twice, Sparky,” he replied, “Not in this case and not in your lifetime.” Something flickered behind the clone’s eyes; both Ian and Gabriel caught the flash of a deeper emotion but neither one of them could identify it before it was carefully hidden again. “Why?” Devian asked simply.

“It’s not because you’re a ‘freak’ if that’s what you’re thinking,” Ian assured him, “I don’t think even Sara has ever truly believed that no matter what she has told herself or anyone else.” Devian made a rude sound in his throat and lounged backward again in the chair. His long body was draped languidly across it but Ian could feel the tension thrumming through his brother like an electrical charge. “Well,” the clone hissed sarcastically, “She certainly had me fooled.” Ian’s small smile was almost conspiratorial. “I know,” he agreed. Although Devian’s eyes briefly flashed fire, his tone was mild when he asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ian shrugged. His voice was just as mild as his double’s when he explained, “Since the Witchblade chose Sara, almost every element of normalcy has disappeared from her life. She is determined that once the children are born she will have her idea of a ‘real’ family. Once the Blade is finished playing Its games, it is inevitable that she will only accept one man in her bed.” The clone began to open his mouth. He shut it again quickly when Ian firmly shook his head. “That man is me, Dev,” he continued, “She wants me and I will never step aside in favor of you. If you think otherwise, you are kidding yourself. Doing that can only lead to a life wasted nursing endless pain and resentment.” Dev’s and Gabriel’s eyes briefly locked in startled recognition just before the clone dropped his gaze.

There was a long pause while Devian digested what his brother had said. Curling his hands into loose fists, the clone searched his Ian’s eyes before he responded, “I don’t understand. Who does it hurt if she has two men in her bed rather than one? We’re all adults. You could accept having me with you both, couldn’t you?” Ian shrugged again. “What I could accept is irrelevant,” he replied, adding, “But, yes, I could handle sharing Sara’s bed with you.” Dev pushed a hand through his tangled curls. He was still fighting; he still could not accept what he had just been told. “Couldn’t you talk to her?” he asked, the barest trace of desperation creeping into his voice, “Reason with her? She would listen to you.” That made Ian laugh. When Dev realized what he had just said, even as upset as he was, his lips twitched in response. His cheeks colored slightly and he mumbled, “Sorry.” Ian waved a hand, accepting the clone’s retraction. He leaned forward and looked earnestly at his brother. “Do you trust me, Dev?” he asked. Devian studied Ian’s eyes, in so many ways identical mirrors of his own. His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. Finally, he responded, “Yes. I trust you.” Ian nodded solemnly. “Then, listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you,” he said softly, “Over the years, I have learned to read Sara pretty well. I think that I understand her about as well as any of us can – except perhaps Danny. Are you listening?”

Devian winced and tensed, already anticipating what Ian was going to say. Eventually, he realized that his hesitation would not change the course of this conversation in any way. Ian had come here to tell him this. He could not avoid the hearing of it. The clone sighed again and nodded. His loose fists clenched a bit tighter. “What Sara is hanging on to right now is knowing that after she has the babies, she can go back to work and she can begin to shape the family that she has missed for so long,” Ian said quietly,
“She has experienced life with the Witchblade for quite a while now. She is going to try to insulate the kids from that for as long as she can. She is going to want to give them as close to a normal life as she can for as long as she can. That family consists of mom, dad, and the kids.” The clone made no attempt to hide the stark pain that swam in his wide, golden eyes. “And me?” he asked, voice tight, “Do I fit anywhere at all in that scenario of hers?” Ian studied him hard trying to gauge his mood. His goal in doing this was certainly not to make things worse; he was hoping to guide his brother to a path where he could begin to heal; where he could learn to integrate both the untried and damaged parts inside him into a stronger, more resilient whole. “Truth?” he wanted to know. Ian watched Devian set his shoulders again in that gesture that had already become characteristic, bracing for another blow. Dev nodded sharply and said, “Truth.”

Ian nodded back. “Sara lost her own father too soon,” he said, “She would never take her daughter’s father away from her. On the other hand, she will willingly be no part of the ménage a trios that the Blade is forcing on her now. In this scenario that she has created, I imagine that she sees you as a sort of ex-lover, entitled to make a claim on her daughter but not exerting any claim on her.” The clone’s face was lowered, his voice a mere murmur. “I don’t want to ‘claim’ anyone. I don’t want to force Sara into anything,” he protested, “But there is something there between us; I know that there is. I can sense it, feel it.” His head came up and he stared into Ian’s eyes, silently pleading with him to corroborate this fervent belief; to tell him that it was not only his imagination. After a moment, Ian gave the clone his confirmation. “I agree that there is something between you and Sara,” he admitted, “I’ve felt a bit of what you describe when the three of us are together. But what you must realize, Dev, is that it doesn’t matter. Sara will never willingly or easily give herself over to that pull.” The clone shook his head, his mouth set in a stubborn line, but Ian held up his hand to stop the protest that was coming.

“She might get caught up in the sexual attraction that she obviously feels for you, Sparky,” Ian agreed, “But when the passion is spent, she will lash out at you all the more because she is ashamed of having lost that control. This thing that’s between you is nothing that you can build a solid relationship on. I’m sorry.” Devian had dropped his head again and he was shaking it slowly back and forth like a punch-drunk boxer. The other men could see that the clone was casting about for some way to deny what Ian had told him. Gabriel swung his legs off the bed and bent forward. “Listen to him, Dev,” Gabe urged, “He’s telling you the truth.” When the shaggy head came back up, it was obvious that Devian was angry but his eyes were also shiny with tears that he was struggling to hold back. “Right,” he hissed at Gabriel, “And what about all that stuff you told me?” Gabe shrugged. “That’s true too, buddy,” he replied, “It’s all part of the same package. Sara doesn’t want to get involved with you but her libido or the Blade make her slip. Then, she punishes you for making her lose control. In fact, she takes that even further and punishes you for all the control that the Blade has ever taken away from her. It all fits.”

Devian was still shaking his head as if he persisted in trying to deny all that he had heard; but the wide, golden eyes told a different story. The tears that he had been struggling to hold back finally spilled from the corners of his eyes and ran in zigzag trails slowly down his flushed cheeks. The fact that the clone was still fighting not to show his pain made it all the more poignant. Both Ian and Gabriel had to force themselves not to reach out to comfort the agonized man because it was very obvious that he neither sought nor wanted their pity. In the way of men, there was a lot of throat clearing and looking elsewhere while Dev tried to get his raw emotions back under control. Gabe grabbed a box of tissues from the nightstand and awkwardly held it out to his friend who accepted them a bit ungraciously. When the clone finally managed to stop crying, he sat hunched in the chair; head down, breathless and wrung out. “Let’s say that I accept all that you’ve both told me,” he whispered in a hushed, husky voice. He lifted his shaggy head and, this time, Ian found it wrenching to meet the red, wounded eyes of his brother. However, he forced down the strong surge of empathy that he felt for his double and looked back at him unflinchingly. Ian nodded, encouraging the clone to continue. “What do I do now?” Devian asked. He sounded for all the world like a lost child.

“Good,” Ian thought, “At least he’s able to see a future, to look ahead.” He smiled gently at his brother. He really wanted to gather Devian into his arms and hug him, comfort him, but he knew that the clone would never accept that. Ian fought down the urge with some difficulty. He cleared his throat again and said softly, “You go on, Dev. The way that we all do. A big part of life is learning how to accept what you can never have, learning how to do without, and channeling your energies into pursuing what is possible. Ultimately, the only actions that you can control are your own. It’s time for you to begin directing your own life instead of simply reacting to the will of others.” Dev made a low sound. Ian wasn’t sure whether the clone was agreeing with or disputing what he had said until he asked, with just the slightest touch of irony and humor, “Does that include you?” Ian’s smile widened. “Yeah,” he replied, “That includes me. You have my permission to tell me when you think I’m full of shit.” Devian sighed deeply and pushed a shaking hand through his tortured locks. “I wish I could tell you that,” he murmured, “But I can’t.” Although they tried to hide it, both Ian and Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief and sent a silent prayer of thanks to their individual gods. A jubilant, little voice crowed inside Gabe’s head, “Dev is going to make it! He’s going to be okay!” A moment later, he tempered that thought with another: “Don’t celebrate yet, Bowman. He has a long way to go and he’s going to need a lot of help.”

The clone obviously realized that too. His gaze took in both Ian and Gabriel before he asked, “Will you help me? I’ve been struggling for such a long time, there’s so much that I don’t understand.” Ian’s eyes darkened to rich amber and warmed. He bent forward to briefly clap his brother on his broad shoulder. “Of course I’ll help you,” he agreed. Gabriel grinned like a loon. “Me too,” he assured the clone. Devian sucked in another long, shaky breath. He folded his hands to still them and forced them down against six-pack abs. “Sara…,” he started in the same husky whisper. Ian held up a hand and the clone’s lips pressed back together. “Sara can only hurt you or control you if you allow her to, Sparky,” he said, “If you don’t relinquish your power to her, she has no hold over you. It’s time that you took back your power. Actually, it’s long past time that we both took back our power. You and I have given so much of our power to Sara that she’s drunk with it.” Gabriel laughed delightedly and both Nottingham heads swiveled in unison to stare at him; he found that rather disconcerting but recovered quickly. When identical dark, winged brows raised together, however, it was too much for the young man. He laughed again. Dev frowned then, annoyed, and asked, “What?” Gabe waived an airy hand, unfazed. “I just can’t wait to see this all play out,” he smirked, “It’s about time you guys found your missing backbones.”

Ian was a lot less confident of his ability to stand up to the Wielder than the picture that he was presenting to his troops, but they had no need to know that. A good general knew when to keep a secret. He nodded briskly. “Then I guess that you will be coming to the Council meeting tonight,” he said. Gabe’s mobile face went blank with surprise. Recovering quickly, he asked, “Council meeting? What Council is that?” Wearing an impressive look of resolve, Ian enlightened him. “The Council of the Witchblade,” he replied, “You’re a charter member.” There were a few moments of total silence while Gabriel Bowman absorbed that bit of news. The look of concentration on his friend’s face lightened the clone’s heavy heart enough so that even his lips twitched. Finally, Gabe ventured, “Is that a good thing? I mean, do I want to be? What does this Council do?” Ian grinned at the young man smugly. “Well,” he suggested, “I guess that you’ll just have to come to the Council Meeting tonight if you want answers to those questions, won’t you?” Gabriel made a face. He felt like he had been manipulated. Ian Nottingham, after all, had learned from one of the masters of that art. “Yeah,” Gabe acknowledged grumpily in response, “I guess that I will. Otherwise, I’m liable to find myself on some Committee that I never heard of. Right?” Ian shrugged. “What can I say?” was his breezy reply.

At eight o’clock that evening, they all sat around the kitchen table. They had had dinner and cleared away the dishes. Cups containing coffee and tea, at various stages of consumption, sat in front of them. The gathering mixed an interesting collection of personalities and moods. Ian was the center of attention; he was the leader, holding them all together, obviously in charge. Sara sat to his right. She had been mostly quiet tonight because she was sensing strange currents in the air and it made her wary. That, in no way, meant that she was benign. The suddenly expanded bulk of her strange pregnancy still had her off-kilter and uncomfortable, and her unstable hormones were shooting around inside her like colliding atoms. All were wisely giving her a wide berth. Devian sat at Ian’s left. He was keeping Ian between he and Sara like a buffer. Facing the love of his life anew after finally acknowledging some very painful truths had left him feeling extremely fragile and exposed. His guard was up like a shield and he was actively blocking his connection to the Wielder, with some additional support from his brother. Even with all of that, he was so keenly aware of her presence, one person removed, that it scraped over his raw nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Across the table from that unholy trio, Gabriel Bowman watched the interactions avidly from sparkling brown eyes. The air in the cheery kitchen fairly crackled with pent-up tension. Just in time, he stopped himself from absently cackling and rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the confrontation that was immanent. Sara was, in his humble opinion, so overdue for her comeuppance. It was not that he had grown to dislike his long-time friend; he loved her now as he had almost from the very first time they had met. Gabriel had been drawn to Sara from the outset. He had immediately recognized and loved her vitality, her courage, her loyalty, and, of course, that unique air of danger and grandeur that was part and parcel of the Wielder of the Witchblade. He was an acquirer and collector of the unusual and fabulous. How could he not be drawn to Sara Pezzini? But the enforced confinement; the loss of her beloved police work; the absence of the calming influence of her partner, Danny Woo; her advancing pregnancy; and playing wishbone between the Nottinghams had all taken their toll on his Sara. She had not just become a frequently raging bitch and next to impossible to live with – she was also in danger of losing herself, her essential knowledge of who and what she was. Sara needed a wake-up call in the worst way. Gabriel was just perverse enough to want a front row seat when she got it. It was a failing in his nature that he recognized and accepted as largely harmless; but oh so very rewarding. Before he could stop it, a very small cackle did escape him. He managed to avoid rubbing his hands together with glee. Across the table, green eyes narrowed in response. “Oh, what the hell,” he thought rakishly. Gabriel rubbed his hands together briskly.

Almost completely absorbed in each other, Vicki Po and Hector Mobius were oblivious to the heady, emotional currents eddying about them. They were utterly, gloriously in love. When they were not alone together – which was as much as they both could manage – each had been largely out of touch with the conflicts that were growing among the others in the safe house. Vicki kept to the lab, working with Immo to understand what he had learned about Sara’s bizarre pregnancy and to prepare to be the attending physician at the delivery of the twins. Also, aware that all the esoteric knowledge that he possessed about the Nottinghams was about to vanish into obscurity, Immo had been passing a great deal of it on to Vicki so that it would not be lost; albeit in a sanitized version. After having worked for Kenneth Irons for most of his life, Dr. Immo had certainly learned to be discreet. He was cognizant that there were many secrets that neither Ian nor Devian would want him to place into the small, capable hands of Vicki Po. Consequently, the old man carefully filtered the information that he bequeathed to the younger doctor. In spite of all that, Vicki’s mind was full to bursting with new ideas, cutting-edge medical techniques, and scientific theories that she had never dreamed of or hoped to explore in her lifetime. Her days had become very full, as had her nights.

As for the reason that her nights were now so spectacular, he had been busy planning the next day’s raid on the mansion with Ian and their temporary allies from the shadow government. These days, the large and imposing warrior seemed to travel through life in a perpetual stupor. It was absolutely amazing the impact that one petite, dark-haired woman could have on a seasoned veteran of many much bloodier conflicts. Rather, the incredible Dr. Po had managed to capture his heart and soul without shedding a single drop of hemoglobin. It was a marvel that never ceased to engage the substantial cognitive powers of Moby’s considerable brain. She was truly a wonder and he felt blessed to have stumbled upon her in this arid... Mobius realized that his mind was rambling again, drawing word pictures around the light of his life, Po. He had completely lost the gist of what Ian had been saying. Moby was attempting to regain his focus when, under the table, Victoria Po’s small hand stroked the long, hard muscle that ran up the length of his thigh. The big man’s breath froze in his throat; his rich, chocolate eyes glazed; and Ian might have been speaking Urdu for all he understood. Mobius gave his head a tiny shake and fought to concentrate. “No, that is not true,” he thought sluggishly, “I actually do speak Urdu.” It was one of his less useful talents. He struggled to again pick up the thread of the discussion while another part of his agile brain wondered how his friends would respond to the news that he and Po had to tell them when the Council Meeting was over.

Dr. Immo had spent too many long years of his life in an environment fraught with intrigue not to pick up the tension oozing just below the surface of the convocation. The old man didn’t miss much. He was aware, for instance, that the “boys” (as he thought of Ian, Devian, and Gabriel collectively) had had their heads together for a good portion of the afternoon. He suspected that the object of their conversation had been the Wielder. His rheumy eyes settled briefly on the object of that observation, only to skitter away again quickly when they met her challenging, green glare head on. Although he was aware that Sara was under a great deal of stress due to this odd, Witchblade-induced pregnancy, he too believed that she had been rampaging out of control for far too long now and that she needed to be stopped for the sanity of all concerned. Observing the taut-muscled demeanor of the Nottinghams, the doctor decided that a confrontation might be in the offing. If that was the case and he could make good a hasty retreat, he would weather the impending eruption from the safe haven of his laboratory. But first, he had something that he had to tell the three protagonists. He had held back this secret until the eleventh hour because he did not know how they were going to take the information. Now, he had decided that he must, in good conscience, finally give up his secret before he departed their company.

One part of the doctor – a very vocal, interior monologue – wanted to just let it go. They had, he reasoned, managed to survive their bizarre three-way relationship so far without being privy to this key piece of knowledge. A cajoling little voice asked: “What harm could it do to leave them in blissful ignorance?” Another part of him, however, jeered that that was the coward’s way out; that he was simply trying to avoid facing the consequences of his actions. Dr. Immo sighed and ran a hand over his head, dislodging the few strands of thinning, gray hair that were plastered across his scalp. “No,” he thought. In good conscience, he simply could not leave them forever without letting them know the truth about Devian and his relationship with the Wielder. It would not be fair to any of them, least of all the clone. He sighed again and determined that he would tell them once the Council Meeting was over, and the lovers and young Mr. Bowman had departed to their rooms for the night. He would unburden himself before departing to start his new life, closing the doors on his past for good and for all. The Blade’s chosen champions were young and resilient. They would find some way to deal with the chaos that he and Kenneth had set in motion.

When the old man dragged his attention back to the present, he realized that Ian was outlining the details of the following day’s planned raid on the mansion. Apparently Ian, Mobius, and Devian were all taking part in the action, along with a myriad of agents from the secret government agency. There was no need to bring either Vicki or Gabriel into the action because the agency had their own field medics and computer experts. Ian was fine with that; the more of their little group that he could keep out of danger, while still accomplishing their objectives, the better. Immo was pleased to find that Ian was absolutely adamant about not letting the Wielder anywhere near either the raid or the agents from the shadow government. He had skillfully evaded all of their requests to either meet with Sara or gain new information about her unique abilities. He had been able to squeeze these concessions from their uneasy allies because of the other bargaining chip that he held: Dr. Immo himself. The doctor was not going to be part of the commando team either. Rather, he would wait at the safe house until Kendall and his minions were in custody and the mansion was secured. Then, one of the “boys” would come get him and bring him to secured estate so that he could go through his former laboratories and collect any important research. That was part of the deal. After that, Dr. Immo would disappear into his new life as Chief Scientist for the shadow government.

Ian Nottingham took a long breath before he asked, “Any questions?” Vicki raised a tentative hand. Ian smiled at the gesture and nodded. She lowered the hand. “Are you sure that you can trust these guys, Ian?” she asked. He shook his head. “The only people that I trust implicitly are around this table,” he responded, “I trust the agency to the point that we have someone that they want very badly. I also have an extensive network of people and countermeasures in place as backups to the primary plan just in case.” Vicki smiled ruefully. “Why did I even ask?” was her rhetoric observation, “Of course you do.” Sitting close beside her, Mobius captured her small hand in his enormous paw. “Do not trouble yourself, Po,” he murmured leaning close, “We will be in no danger and, when the dust settles, all can resume what amounts to a normal life in our strange circle.” That brought Sara’s head up from where it had been resting on her chest. She looked directly at Ian and asked, “When?” She didn’t have to say any more than that; he knew exactly what she meant. “The day after tomorrow,” was his succinct answer. “And then?” she pressed, wanting a few more details. “Kendall will be in custody, gone for good. We will all be exonerated for all to see in the media and your jobs will be restored. Irons’ estate will be probated, and Dev and I will inherit everything.” She studied him from narrow, green eyes. “And you can guarantee that all that will happen?” she asked, “They can’t weasel on any of it.” Ian shook his head firmly. “They can’t and they won’t,” he assured her. Sara felt a small weight lift off of her spirit. For the first time in hours, she smiled.

“What happens then?” Sara asked. Ian smiled at her. “That’s one of the things that we are here to decide,” he replied, adding, “What would you like to have happen, Sara?” She took a deep breath. Sara was very aware that she had been more than a bit difficult to live with lately. With that thought in mind, she wondered how they would all respond to what she felt compelled to suggest. She glanced at the faces around the table. Although she and Vicki had settled their differences, and she suspected that her friend might be amenable to her plan, she was also aware that the relationship between the petite coroner and Hector Mobius had grown serious. Sara wasn’t sure what impact that development might have on their future. Sara knew that she had pissed Gabriel off more than once recently. At the moment, their friendship was strained. Add to that, the fact that young Mr. Bowman had a thriving business to run. Then, there was Devian. Sara had no intention of even attempting to convince the clone to stay close. She knew that Ian was right; they needed Sparky. In spite of that, if Dev had to be wooed, she was determined to leave that task to Ian; she felt that giving the clone any kind of encouragement would be disastrous for the future that she envisioned for herself.

With those thoughts colliding in her busy brain, Sara sighed. Her companions were watching her with varying degrees of expectation and concern. She answered Ian’s question, which was still hanging pointedly in the air. “I’d like us all to stay together, live together to provide a support system for the babies,” she said, “And, I guess the mansion is the only place where that would be possible.” Sara pulled in a deep breath as her eyes slid from face to face. “What do you think?” she asked the group in general. Vicki glanced quickly at Moby who nodded quickly. She also took a long breath before she plunged ahead. “Well,” she ventured, “I have some news that sort of fits in here.” But she stopped there, finding it difficult to go on. The silence lengthened until Sara impatiently broke it to say, “Jeez, Vick. Are you just going to leave us hanging like that?” The usually unflappable Dr. Po turned toward Mobius looking lost and frazzled. He captured her small hand and bent to press his lips to her palm. When he lifted his head, he looked directly at Sara and said, “Po and I are to wed.” The Wielder’s mouth dropped open. Finally, she turned to Vicki to ask, “You’re getting married? To him?”

If either the doctor or her warrior were offended by the way the Wielder phrased that question, it didn’t show. Perhaps they were too happy together to care what anyone else thought. Vicki Po grinned hugely and crowed, “Yeah. I am. Can you believe it?” Ian stood, grinning too, and grasped his fellow Black Dragon’s large hand in both of his, pumping it happily. “Congratulations,” he said, “To both of you. This is wonderful.” Moby smiled so wide that his face looked as if it might split. He squeezed Ian’s hand back and replied, “Thank you, my brother.” Ian glanced briefly at Sara before he focused full on the lovers. “Perhaps we can have the wedding at the mansion?” he suggested, “Start our life there with some positive energy to clean the place out. What do you say?” Mobius turned to Vicki and shrugged, leaving it up to her. She was much more into the public action that would seal their union than he was; the big warrior wanted to be bound to his lady; the ritual itself was largely irrelevant to him. Vicki’s face softened as she studied Ian. Then, her eyes slipped over to her own friend, who had been relatively silent. “Would that please you?” she asked. Ian had opened his mouth to answer, fearing that no response would be forthcoming, when Sara unexpectedly responded with a soft, “Yes. It would.” Vicki nodded, her eyes still locked with Sara’s. “Done,” she intoned, as if a bargain had been made.

“And after the wedding? What then? Will you stay with us?” Sara asked. Vicki’s eyes shifted briefly to her betrothed before she answered. “Certainly until the babies are born,” she agreed, “I’m going to deliver them. Remember?” Ian noticed that Sara was wringing her hands again. He knew how uneasy these supernatural nudges from the Blade made her. “And then,” Sara pressed, “It’s just that I feel like it’s really important that we all stay together for the kids. I don’t think that I can explain it much better than that.” Vicki wriggled in her chair, uncomfortable with glibly promising away her future without giving a lot more thought to the consequences. “Why don’t we revisit that after the babies are born,” she suggested, “You have my word that I’ll be right there at your side through the delivery. Okay?” Sara decided that she would have to leave it at that for now. She nodded. “Okay,” she replied, “Oh, and congratulations from me too.” Vicki smiled, clutching Moby’s hand. Something must have communicated through his touch because she met his eyes and even a casual observer could have seen the passion flare between them. Dr. Po made a small sound deep in her throat. With slightly glazed eyes, she turned toward Ian. “Are we done here?” she asked. Ian’s smile was conspiratorial. “We’re done,” he chuckled, “And I think that the rest of us are superfluous right now. Go and enjoy!” Practically vibrating, Vicki and Mobius said their speedy goodnights and departed the company.

Sara turned and pinned her next victim with her green eyes. Gabriel squirmed uncomfortably under that gaze. The silence lengthened until he blurted, “What? You want me to be your roomie too? Two men aren’t enough for you?” Sara winced and dropped her eyes, the wind suddenly taken out of her sails. She cleared her throat and still not looking at him replied, “That wasn’t quite the relationship that I had in mind.” Ian jumped in to save her face. “We need an ace researcher,” he pointed out, “And all of Mr. Irons’ libraries, artifacts, and archives would, of course, be at your disposal.” Gabe’s lips parted to emit a soft sigh and his dark eyes gleamed with an almost sensual desire. Sara turned her head to look at Ian. They both knew that Mr. Bowman had just received an offer that he couldn’t refuse. “You’ll join us then?” she asked softly, “I’m sure that we can find some way to make it possible for you to still run Talismaniac from the mansion.” Gabriel chuckled a bit nervously. “Why do I suddenly feel like Dr. Faustus?” he asked. Sara had the grace to look offended. “I’m not the devil, Gabriel,” she hissed, “I’m not trying to tempt you into evil. We’re the good guys. Remember?” Gabe’s eyes flickered over Devian, who had his head down and appeared lost in thoughts of his own. When his gaze flashed back to Sara, he saw that his allusion had been noted and absorbed. “I try to keep that in mind,” the young man responded, “Of course, sometimes you do make it difficult.”

Her full lips tightened. “Are you in or out, Gabe?” she asked, tired of playing games. The young man hesitated a moment longer, hoping that he wasn’t making a huge mistake. Then, he glanced at his silent friend and knew he had to stay for the clone’s sake if for no other reason. The guy needed his friend close to watch his back. “I’m in,” Gabriel Bowman stated. Sara let go of the tense breath she had been holding. It would have been bad if they had lost Gabe. Now that was settled, the young man stood. He had had enough discussion, strategy, and plotting for one evening and one of the Notties had scored him a primo DVD that he and Dev were planning to settle in and enjoy. He said, “Cool. Well, now that all is well and right with the work, if you’ll excuse us, the Devster and I have a hot DVD waiting.” Hearing his name, the clone raised his head. He looked a bit befuddled; however, seeing Gabe standing, he figured that the Council was now over and he began to rise too. He had risen and turned to leave when Dr. Immo held up one liver-spotted hand. “If you wouldn’t mind, my boy,” he called to the clone, “I must speak with the three of you before I leave your company.” Dev glanced at Gabriel and then back to the doctor. Immo was not his favorite person and he was impatient to be rid of him. In fact, this evening, he would be glad to be rid of them all and to just lose himself in the film that his friend had procured.

Before Devian could demure, Dr. Immo added, “It is important. Please. Humor me, Devian. After tomorrow, you will not have to put up with my pokings, proddings, and revelations ever again. Please.” The clone sighed a little too loudly for politeness sake but he sat back down in his chair. Turning his head, he said to Gabriel, “You go ahead if you want. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Gabe frowned, worried that his friend was about to get another load of crap dumped on him. He hesitated in the doorway. Touched by Gabe’s obvious concern, Dev’s golden eyes softened and he said, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. It just looks like I’m outnumbered. Save me some popcorn.” Gabriel smiled and instructed, “Call me if you need me.” Then, he turned and left. Ian cleared his throat. He glanced at Sara and then back at Immo. “You want us to stay too?” he asked. The doctor nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “This concerns all of you and, although I have been avoiding doing so, I have decided that I must tell you this before I leave your company for good.” Now, all three younger people at the table looked back at the old man warily. The charged silence lengthened. Finally, Sara snapped, “Jeez. Okay. You’ve got us hanging on pins and needles here. If you were trying to create a sense of drama, you’ve succeeded. Enough already. Just tell us and get it over with. What is it?”

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Post a message:
This forum requires an account to post.
[ Create Account ]
[ Login ]
[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.