* * * * *
Opportunities are not found, they are made.
* * * * *
* Mei -
Mei had the mother of all headaches as she rose, fuzzily, from slumber. The acrid smell of fresh glue and new wood, wormed their way up her sinuses. The swelling in her head matched the rest of her body. Her fingers felt swollen, her eyes were gritty, someone had scraped a rusty spoon down her throat. The soft bed helped ease her whole body bruise. But the cardboard boxes and bubble wrap littering the tan carpet of the spacious room, what were they doing here?
‘Later,’ She relaxed back into the embrace of slumber.
Two seconds later, her eyes flew open.
‘The Warl-,’ She shuddered. Recollections of an armless body, writhing on broken legs, lurching out of the gloom towards her, beckoning her to comply with ‘his’ voice. A ‘Necromancer… He’s a motherfucking Necromancer!’
Arms jolting with terrified enthusiasm, she inspected her fingernails. They remained clear; caked in white dust and chipped to fuck, but clear. Her heart hurt with relief. She was still alive. That brought her to her next major question, or at least one of many. How was she alive? She gave everything into that last attack. He wasn’t supposed to get his decayed hands on her, denying him the chance to reanimate her.
That prompted the full inspection of everything she could reach. She noted the tears in her dress, along with the contrast of new pink skin against her otherwise honey brown; yet everything was as it should be. She even had bruises. ‘Did zombies bruise? Did zombies know they were zombies?’
Tenderly prodding the blemish, a familiar pain wracked her body. Powdered glass ground within her joints, becoming lost in the indistinguishable agony as effects layered. They compounded upon one another. Tendons hyperflexed, her skin blistered, scalded, and peeled away under acid. Nothing escaped the pain, not even her scream. She was overdue, they wanted her to return. The torment would only grow as she continued to ‘disobey.’
A door cracked open. Its splintered remains spraying like confetti as it lost the fight against the interior wall. She barely noticed. The pain flushed away like it had never been, spasming her body so violently she almost threw herself from the bed. She was on her side, fetal, knees to her chest. Her arms cramped and bent as the muscles continued to quiver. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, or how long it had lasted; she was crying. They fell from wide unseeing eyes to leave trails in the residual dust plastered upon her high cheeks.
A gentle hand stroked through her hair. It belonged to a, ‘might-as-well-be,’ nude Demoness, sitting at the base of the bed. Mei wasn’t sure what shocked her more; the woman’s look or her apparent tenderness. Eyes of crimson, skin that of rich cream - very much exposed beneath the oversized mens shirt - and voluminous wavy hair that draped around her shoulders. Mei tried to recoil from the touch, yet the comforting warmth emanating from the creature of death short-circuited her response.
Ember removed her hand as a silhouette blotted the light creeping in around the broken door. They turned as one to see Ian, still struggling to pull on some lounge pants, framed by the bruised wall.
A pathetic whimper of fear rolled from Mei’s constricted throat. Dredging from the bottom of the metaphysical barrel, Mei pulled up a shield. It made toilet paper seem sturdy by comparison. Mei expected anger, rage, for creating a barrier without permission. Instead Ian looked bemused, appraising gaze roaming the firewood that had once been a door.
A disembodied voice commented dryly, “You’ve always gotta make an entrance don’t you?”
Ian ignored The Archive's crass comment and Ember's mock glare, instead more concerned with the trembling girl clutching a wavering shield. It was, clearly, draining her exhausted reserves. Erring on the side of caution, Ian kept out of the Banshee’s expanded personal space, shoulder resting against the door sill.
“Wh-” Cut away into a single, lung emptying, wheezed cough that had everyone within earshot wincing. An attempt and a half later, and with some sickly tasting bile lingering in the back of her throat, Mei managed to ask, “What are you going to do? Am I going to be some sort of sick experiment? Going to make me your living servant? What, not got enough with her?” She flung a finger at Ember. ‘Figures…,’ Her bitter laugh was gritty, like charcoal but sour and thick when mixed with her saliva. ‘From one cage to another.’
The silence stretched interminably. “I don’t know why I was expecting a 'thank you.'” He grouched, folding his arms over his bare chest.
Grim, hovering over his shoulder, lamented, “I know right, no common courtesy these days.”
Mei blinked open mouthed, caught between outrage and disbelief. ‘They’re making jokes about this?!’
"Would you relax already?" Ember chided. "If my lover wanted you as an undead thrall you would be. You’re embarrassing yourself." Mei’s mouth shut with a clack as she glared at the Demoness…, which made her laugh, “Oh I like your fight little one, but you’re missing a few pieces of your puzzle.”
Mei listened as Ember ticked each event off on her fingers, all the while becoming more and more confused at the lengths they had gone to save her. Ember rounded off her list with the Witch healing her unconscious body and Ian’s successful, if somewhat unsteady, removal of her compulsion.
“You have-” And her entire body convulsed. Phantom knives stabbed at every pressure point. Sweat beaded upon her brow as, again, the pain evaporated within a blink. “You haven’t removed them!” She gritted out.
Ian was equally surprised at the sudden, jarring motion of the smaller girl. “I did,” He mumbled, decidedly unsure of that as he scanned her once again with his Spirit Vision. When he saw nothing, he looked to Grim for advice.
“Don’t look at me,” Grim scoffed. “You do freaky shit all the damn time.”
To everyone's surprise, it was Scraps that came in with the answer. “Your essence is still wounded by the bindings,” He drolled with disinterest. “It will take time for the ingrained intent to relinquish its hold in your soul.”
Everyone turned to the Revenant, who was absently flicking through the Demon summoning tome Ian had acquired. After a moment of page flicking he turned the book towards the room. Though the words and images made little sense, Grim caught on quickly. “That’s fucked up…" He muttered before scanning through the rest of the text, "Seems like our boy’s got it. You’ll feel like shit for a while, until they eventually fade now that they’ve been removed. Sucks to be you.”
“Your bedside manner needs work,” Ian said into his chin.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over your bitching,” Grim riposted.
“Uh, Boys? I don’t think she was done,” Ember hummed. With that the room turned its focus on the newest inhabitant of Ian's apartment.
“How long?” She asked.
“Just over two days,” Ian deduced correctly.
“What have you done to me?” That drew a scowl.
“That was needlessly insulting and uncalled for,” Ember warned, dangerous glint replacing her amused twinkle.
“It’s alright, Ember. I’m used to it,” Ian sighed. Once again the stereotype of his kind playing prejudice.
“What’s going on?” Dani yawned.
“The Banshee’s awake,” Ian called over his shoulder.
“Do I need my gun?” Dani asked in all seriousness.
Mei withered under the pointed look, shaking her head.
“She’s my guest, Dani,” Ian said.
Shuffling footsteps muffled the first few words, “… -ust sayin’.” A lock clicked to another room.
“And I’m ‘just saying’ that…”
“Mei,” She coughed up her name.
“Mei, is our guest.” He completed.
With Eris peering in around his shoulders, the spacious guest bedroom was becoming crowded. Despite the room being well lit from the morning sun, Mei’s gaze never settled on a location for long. A double bed, walk in wardrobe, sun streaking through a strip of sky visible between the surrounding buildings.
“Please don’t,” Ember cautioned her, “What you’re considering is incredibly difficult, and is more likely to injure yourself than ‘break out’ of here. Besides, where exactly are you thinking of going?”
At her words, Mei stiffened with suspicion.
Heaving a breath that came with decision making, Ian waved Scraps and the others towards the kitchen, “Look, get yourself cleaned up and join us when you’re ready.” Hand rubbing the back of his neck, he added lamely, “We don’t have much that will fit…” He shrugged in a 'nothing-I-can-do-about-that' way, before leaving the room.
Then they just left. No threat, no promise of violence… Nothing. ‘Who does that?’ Mei added to her confusion.
Alone in the room once more, and with only her thoughts to keep her company, half-cocked ideas and suicidal plans were quickly discarded. There were options, lots of them. Yet each came down to the same problem - her lack of information. Where she was, where she could go, and who she would go with. The queasy knot of self-doubt couldn’t assuage the feeling that what she’d been told was the truth. Her lack of pain, despite the brief flash, was evidential. Then a far more worrisome thought struck her. ‘Nobody does something for nothing. What would a Necromancer want from me?’
While she hadn’t expected a lot of things, ‘I mean, that’s why you don’t expect them, right?’ She certainly hadn’t thought ‘Necromancer.’ What were the chances? She didn’t know. She’d never put much stock into the old wives tales about them anyway, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be under the ‘protection’ of one either.
He was offering her time. Time was what she’d always needed. Planning for the right time, hoping for the right moment, desperate for the right 'something' to come along. She now had that time to… 'To do what?' She asked herself. With freedom now at her fingertips, she felt more trapped than ever. Without a semblance of a goal, she felt very small indeed. Wrapping her arms about herself as a chill rippled her flesh. It was as if an empty space existed just beneath the surface, a depression that itched and stung. ‘At least here I don’t have the eyes of old men constantly undressing me.’
Into the bathroom she strode, where the water cleared her body and mind. She remained hidden in the steam, trying to come up with something to explain the bizarre behaviour and the macabre situation she was confronted with. She'd tried to kill him! Now he was inviting her to breakfast? What was she, some long lost family member?
The more she turned the questions, the deeper the screw drove. He didn’t make any sense! Her fists were slow to relax their hold on air. With tremulous breaths and an increasing weight of dread pressing down on her, she vacated the shower.
What did he want, and what was he giving her? That was the most important thing to find out. It sounded like he was offering her time, and she was going to use it to figure out exactly what the Necromancer was all about.
* * * * *
* Ian -
Once he left the pink haired asian to her thoughts, Ian made for the running shower in his ensuite. He was aware any dalliance on his part would lead to retribution from his otherworldly lover. While the bathroom itself wasn’t large, the entire space was dominated by the double bath jacuzzi, accentuated by multiple nozzles of the shower system. It was definitely one of the better features of his place. Again the notion of a larger apartment flitted through his mind. That thought was then promptly sucker punched into oblivion at the sight of a soaping… Eris?
“For the love of- really?” Ian despaired. “She’s in the other room!”
“Is that your way of saying I should go join her?” Ember teased.
Ian simply groaned, climbed into the spray with the two women, and started washing. It was a lost cause. Seizing upon the moment he stepped into Eris’s personal space. “How are you finding things?” He rumbled into her neck
A shiver ran through the Lich, one that had nothing to do with the water temperature. “Finding things?” She frowned.
“Yeah. Being here, with us.” He clarified.
“Oh; well, there's a lot to discover.” It was hard to miss her poignant glower at Ember, who was busy building a lather in her hair. “But I'm liking figuring out how you think.”
With a thoughtful hum, “What’s been your favourite discovery so far?” He inquired.
“So far my favourite is your attitude to life.” Eris answered after a moment.
“His 'fuck it' style?” Ember’s innuendo was hardly concealed.
Eris, drinking in the sight of Ian’s shallow triangular frame slathered in body butter, blushed. “Yeah.”
“I firmly believe that the mindset people approach issues with, is half the solution to the issue itself.” The sobriety of Ian’s statement caught them both off-guard. A quiet moment where only the spray intruded.
“I would agree with that wholeheartedly,” Eris smiled tenderly.
“I'm glad we have a similar outlook,” He admitted while teasing a lock of hair behind her ear.
“It certainly makes life easier,” Eris beamed.
“No kiddin’,” Ember rounded off - shoving Ian out from under the spray - adding with a wink. “Imagine if he had a negative outlook?”
“He would be far less attractive, it must be said,” Eris entered into the teasing.
“Wait, are you saying you're not with me for my looks?” Ian grinned.
“Looks fade.” Eris said adamantly. “It's what's on the inside that creates a lasting connection.”
A wistful look slipped away under the spray while Ian squeezed the Lich.
“There you go again with that dirty talk,” Ian grinned.
“Smart brain.” She wriggled into his arms. “Not just a pretty face eh?”
“Well, I wouldn't go so far as 'pretty.’”
Ember smacked him for that - so did Eris. “Hey!”
Real cleanliness continued… but was interrupted regularly with a stolen kiss, wandering hand - or tail - and the general playfulness of people both being young and alive. The trio dressed and dried before returning to the kitchen, where an amused Grim and Dani greeted them with brunch.
Taking a sandwich wrapped in the moniker of a local deli, Ian felt his own creeping blush rise as Dani shot furtive glances between him, and his two glowing shower companions. Small talk surrounded the compact table, only stagnating somewhat when Mei emerged from the bathroom. Her arrival, amid a flow of steam and scented soaps, was hesitant. So Ian Willed her a sandwich. Eris and Scraps, playing host to Grim, vacated their seats to allow the Faction Champions some time to talk. Ember simply nudged the empty chair with a disinterested grunt.
Mei watched them ignore her, their conversation picking up where it had left off - Ian pumping Dani for information about the 9th Order. It soon came to her attention that the information the unknown girl possessed was far greater than anything she’d ever heard.
Ian, likewise, was impressed with the scope of Dani’s knowledge. The societies were all, quote-un-quote, secret societies - secret from the overworld anyway. Though, it appeared each Faction went about their secrecy in different ways. Publicity was bad for business. As such, most Factions adopted the bare minimum of exterior interaction - relying on the Sponsors and Inquisition to do most of that for them. The 9th Order were the secret-secret type, all information under lock and key.
“Ah,” Grim said sagely. “The, ‘we kill you for daring to ask about our business’ types.”
Dani, agreeing with the summary, continued as best she could. “They go after anyone,” She shrugged. “I haven’t really been ‘in-the-field’ much; but from what I picked up from other Slayers, everyone’s an enemy.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“How does an Order like that even work?” Ian groused. “Unless they’ve got some system to get money off the record. It’s like you said, the Sponsors use the Factions to make money. You’d think a Faction dedicated to weakening… Ahh.”
“It doesn’t help that everyone is out to fuck each other.” Ember tried to console. She awarded him a patient smile. It was moments like these that reminded her that Ian had a lot to learn.
Ian barely heard it as the curtain, moth eaten and rotted, was pulled back, revealing the full extent of the dilapidated system he was now part of. It was another reminder that the world was sick. It didn’t play fair, or nice, and fuck anyone who gave a damn. “They want war.” He concluded quietly. “And everyone fucking the other over just makes it worse.” Ember’s words, those on the balcony, took on another meaning. ‘Damn she’s smart.’
He inhaled to continue, but stopped short of speaking. Something about that didn’t add up. Ember tilted her head, curious, dropping a strand of raven hair from her forehead to the bridge of her nose.
Dani huffed, hooking the crook of her elbow over the back of her chair. “What do you expect? Nobody can trust anyone. The moment you think you can is the moment they’re going to cut you out of the pie. Just look at the Night Watch.” Chinning towards the window, “And don’t get me started on Delridge.”
Ian recalled the cocky little punk he and Ember had turned into pink mist. If he had ever harboured questions about the brutality Lance had received, the collusion with Mei’s enslaving would-be rapist buried them. “Have things always been this way?” He asked at length.
“How’d you mean?” She asked, pushing away the paper wrapper with a muted crinkle.
“Just.. All this low level infighting.” His hand gesticulated cyclically; forestalling interruption as he tried to put into words his quandary. “Sniping at one another, for petty resources? Like, stealing single shipments and destroying panel vans; doesn’t strike me like a long term war plan.”
“Hmm. Not really, no.” Head lolling back on her shoulder, Dani took a deep breath. “I was sent out on a bullshit mission by the 9th to some hole in the wall town in the midwest. Before I left there was a bit of a stalemate. Nobody could afford to fight because nobody could afford to lose. When I got back Delridge had imploded, with the Night Watch…” She left the rest unsaid.
He nodded, then asked. “Is that why there’s been an increase in conflict lately?”
Dani shrugged. “I was going to ask you that.”
Ian swallowed another bite, pondering his word choice. “The Night Watch Mage was backed by the Tiandihui to form his own Faction. They’ve been going at one another ever since because of bad blood. The Night Watch opted for gun-running as any fight would force them on the defensive. Far as I can tell, they were playing the long game.”
Scepticism was sharp through Dani’s crooked eyes. “The Tiandihui backed the Mage?”
“We didn’t exactly ask for his reasonings,” Ember purred, rapping her emerging talons along the tabletop. “Long handed him a flask of Demon Bane before we… dealt with him in a matter that befitted his attitude.”
Grim’s guffaw and Ian’s tight-lipped smile split the room's attention. Mei’s shudder went unnoticed.
“So,” Ian came full circle, “What’s up with you and Delridge?”
She combed a hand through her blonde hair, cupped her chin, and eyeballed him, finger tapping her temple. Whatever Dani searched for within his presence, she seemed to find it. “What do you know of the Sponsors?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Enough,” He fibbed.
“Alright, that’s gonna save some time.” Dani seemed to shift gears mentally. “Okay, so… The 9th trains us to have specialties, in addition to the core skills we need to be deemed worthy. At sixteen we undergo the Divine Rite to ‘test’ us.” Her finger quotes held the mirth of the grave. “It's to test us alright; not our capabilities, to test our loyalty - see if we have the stones to go through with it. I had a target here in the city that went missing. I was meant to be the one to take him out, but someone got there first. I was told he was some sort of Mage - if he was, I dunno what type. By the time I caught up to him, he was a bloated corpse with very specific stab wounds.”
“I reported it in and asked to continue. Instead, I was told it was my ‘privilege’ to be assigned a most trusted mission - that infiltration bullshit. I came back and Delridge was in pieces.” Rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, she leant forward. “I’d kept my original research and started looking again. Thing was, they didn’t want me to. Said that someone did us a favour, removed just another parasite from our world. I got a hold of some stuff from the other Slayers. That's when I saw it. My target was sacrificed by a Warlock. This guy had done it to others, those weird cuts to his face wouldn’t make sense otherwise. Nobody else put it together, but I saw it from the notes. I know he was sacrificed, had proof that he was, but they didn’t want to hear it. Kept handing me off with excuses. ‘Only the ripest of crops shall be chosen to cleanse,’ or ‘what right does the clay have to question the crafters hand?’”
“What’s this got to do with Delridge imploding, or the Sponsors?” Ian sympathised with her to some extent. He doubted anyone enjoyed getting the middle finger… He just wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything.
“I heard a rumour. Those things that you hear because they’re left out. The blank space people want your mind to fill in so nothing is ever said, but you still know. I can’t prove it, but I’m sure someone's backing both sides.”
The collective shared a puzzled look.
“And, who are the sides?” Ember voiced Ian’s thoughts.
Dani’s mouth, her thin, nearly brown lips, split to reveal her over-white teeth. “From our first encounter; my guess is the Were, you, and whatever fragment of Delridge you creamed. They got tipped off by someone; who does that leave? The Kin, Beacon Hill, and Tiandihui with the Inquisition and the Church happy to stand on the sidelines.”
“Why them though?” Ian’s lips pursed yet Dani’s smile didn’t waver. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, and it’s down to a couple things. I think it's because of location, and who’s the easiest to play.”
‘That means there’s ones that are hard to play?’ He thought. “Huh?”
Dani hid her snicker behind her words. “The Kin and Tiandihui are too strong. They’ve got too much invested in the city and held to many of the cards, right? Beacon Hill,” She raised a hand from the table, giving the ‘neither here nor there’ wobble. “Don’t know much about them, but with the rest being bit players; the backers set them against one another to exhaust their resources and clear up the rest. That leaves Delridge and the Wolves. Delridge was off on their side of the river, and as isolated as the Were. They probably still responded to the Sponsors and the like, but from what I can tell they had their own stuff outside the city. They didn’t want that. Toss in the Warlock, sit back, and watch as they fragment into Factions again.”
“Okay, let’s say you’ve got it right. I’m not saying it isn’t,” He stressed, “But if we go on that as our base, where’s that leave the Werewolves? Those Shifters aren’t going to play ball to any decree unless it’s in their best interest.”
“I was thinking about that too, and it wasn’t until I got here that I figured it out.” Dani thumbed at Scraps and Eris. “Someone bet on you to save the Werewolf I bagged.” Frowns met her assertions. “Think about it! Why else would I be there?” She leant forward, stabbing the table with a finger after each point. “They knew you’d be in the clearing. They sent me there to kill one of them. They knew you’d bring them back to life. It all fits!”
Ian took a moment to consider her words. He remembered the clearing, the distant shot, the Werewolf falling, and Delridge leaping from the bushes. Four Factions, all in one place… “No. That's not it.”
Dani’s back straightened so violently the chair legs squawked. “And how would you know?”
“Well for one thing, I didn’t bring her back to life - I stopped her from dying.” Ian surmised. “It was their resident Shaman or whatever, that healed the bullet wound. As to the rest, I think you’ve got most of it right, but we’re looking at this from the wrong angle.” Dani huffed, folded her arms but seemed content enough to listen. “I’m not saying the Kin, Tiandihui or the Werewolves aren't the strongest, they might be - I don't know - but look at it from the Sponsors angle. That’s a lot of chances relying on ‘hope.’”
“Heh. They ain't much for inspiring people,” Grim interjected.
“Exactly. Someone’s done something to shake things up. Who or what, we can take guesses. But until we get some solid info from people who've been in this longer, we can only guess.”
“What’s your guess then?” Eris called from the sofa.
“My guess is they want to do something to make their chosen pawn into a king of nothing. Put someone up on a pedestal while keeping them dependent and supplicant to their handouts.”
“You seem rather sure of that,” Dani sniped.
“I’m putting pieces together from an outsider's stance.” He countered. “You’ve been in this world a whole lot longer than me. That means you know more and have all the info. I’ve got the freshest eyes to make something out of those details. The Sponsors drip feed just enough to keep the system going, but never enough to let any one Faction gain true power. When they do, they start double dealing. That’s where they’re going with this and why they tried to start a brawl with two Factions against the Were.”
Dani scratched at the side of her head. “I don’t understand.”
“You laid it out. The Night Watch, Delridge and Shifters were all there. They didn’t ‘hope’ a fight would start, they put you there to make sure of it.” He had everyone's attention now. Speaking to Dani, but addressing the room; “If you were trying to infiltrate someone, who are the hardest ones to get at?”
“The Wolves?” Dani played along.
Ian nodded. “Right. The Kin are family run, so they’ll know if they have a turncoat or a mole, my bet is the same with the Tiandihui.” He let his words drift; waiting for Mei’s approval.
Mei, caught by his scrutiny, gave a stiff nod.
“That’s the angle they’re playing on.” Ian asserted with conviction.
It was a strange moment to witness, and a stranger one to see so many trying to come up with a reason to disagree. What sucked most about the grisly reality he was painting, was that none seemed shocked. They weren’t trying to disagree because it was ‘too awful.’ No, they simply wanted to ensure there were no holes in his argument.
As other topics were brought to the table, Ian took a mental backseat to the goings on. Instead turning his focus to the Tiandihui-Kin relationship that he’d bumble-fucked himself into. It was becoming harder to ignore the truth that the Sponsors were playing a game where his life was valued in a series of digits. One expensive screw up, one too many questions asked, and he’d go from ‘valued resource’ to ‘expendable’ on a whimsy. Whatever went on with Delridge had the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
The fact that they’d accepted the chain of events that put the Night Watch in a weaker position, without a word, spoke volumes. He’d thrown a fucking grenade into their ammo-dump, watched the fallout rain down like confetti, and - as far as he knew - they’d just accepted it. He wasn’t sure if that meant the Sponsors were stupid, inept, or both - he’d already made up his mind that they were corrupt. Using their self interest against them, was playing into their hands. It was like coming to the prom queen, hat in hand, for a date, and expecting to get lucky.
‘Funny how a few days changes things,’ He cringed at his stupidity. Securing Sarah’s force some funds? He should have known better. Working ‘with’ the establishment was useless. The Sponsors only got involved ‘after’ he’d pointed out Long’s ploy didn’t benefit them.
Whatever way he looked at it, Ian kept coming up with the same answer. The Tiandihui were the first to understand they didn’t need to fight to win. Long had cut away at the Sponsors profits by doing some ‘sponsoring’ of his own. The vampires bled the Kin while he sat smug and watched as Chancellor Palpetine cracked the whip, stripping their flesh from their bones. The Sponsors didn’t raise a finger over the prospect of splitting a family up. They only raised a token objection when their bottom line took a hit.
Long’s hungry glee over the two Animists-
“Hey,” Ember barged into his darkening aura with a kick. “Pay attention.” Glowering at him with her crimson eyes. “While you had your head in your ass, Archie over here,” Blowing a kiss his way, “Makes a point that includes you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Sugar-Tits,” Grim said while puffing out his chest. “I’m always pulling great ideas outta my ass, ya’ll just never listen.”
“Fine, oh great Fat-Ass, please bestow upon us your wisdom.” Ember mocked.
“I said; it’s one thing to want a war, it's another to maintain it.”
“… So?” Ian blinked.
“That’s probably why there's all these low level brawls all over the place. Everyone’s exhausted, but still squabbling over petty shit.” Grim concluded.
“And that’s where you come into it.” Ember stated. A moment passed. Then another. When it became clear that he wasn’t putting the pieces together fast enough. “Come on genius! That’s why the Bureau let you in!”
Upon room inspection, it appeared Ian wasn’t the only one failing to follow along. “Let him into what?” Eris asked.
Ember rolled her eyes insufferably. “How else are they going to prop up all these little Factions?”
The room blinked as one.
“Wait! Hold on here,” Dani shot forward in her chair, hands upheld for silence. “You think the Inquisition are in on all this?”
“That’s the easiest one.” Ember said while stretching her arms and back out, fingers interlocked and palms to the ceiling. “Why do you think they let you in, or took you off their wanted list? The Night Watch needed a Mage, and badly. So, they bent their rules to suit the situation.”
‘Oh fuck me!’ He thought. Every single god-damn time he came up with something, someone else came along and shattered it. Dani looked devastated by the revelation; yet while this latest turn seemed to crush her, it galvanised him.
Recalling the hard working cop brought with it images of Rachel, which he immediately pushed away. He didn’t want to think about… what’d happened between them. Elements of what Sarah told him started to slip together. Those nameless Agents that came to her precinct… they weren’t there just to cover up the magical bloopers the normies found out about, they were making sure the status-quo was maintained. Then he frowned. Sarah seemed like the type who wanted to solve every riddle, even if it buried her. That was blatantly obvious. So then why didn’t the Bureau take her on? Then Ember's words from the night before, came floating back at him. ‘just make sure you’re not making too many assumptions.’
“Aww,” Ember play pouted Dani’s way. “Did you really think you’d get justice from the Inquisition?” The patronising cheek pat sold her condescension nicely. “Grow up. They’re in it for themselves.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Dani shot back. “It’s not like I could just, go join the Shifters on their island.”
“Heh,” Ian slipped a single huff. “I think you’d fit right in. They seem to be all about the militant, strongly independent attitude.”
Dani allowed, then crushed, a small smile; replacing it with stoicism. “The Bishops always hated the Werewolves. They refused to deal with them on any level. After all, that is how they make most of their money - enchanted bullets.” She tacked on.
Ian smiled internally. It was a cheap shot, tricking her like that, but it’d worked. He had to admire the lessons Ember had thumped into his head.
“It isn’t that simple,” She shook her head. “Sure, the 9th is militant, but it's more than that. They don’t want assassins that are professional - they want Slayers that are devoted to ‘the cause.’ They breed fanaticism from within.”
“Who is it they target then?” Ian asked while leaning back in his chair.
Dani shrugged. “Anyone. They aren’t picky. It’s not like they have a shortage of ‘candidates.’”
“And if they do, they’ll just make some more.” Ember added.
Dani frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Ember raised a textured brow in a ‘really? You need it explained.’ “How long has the Church existed? How long has the 9th existed? All those years of hunting, and nothing to show for it. Demons still loose, Werewolves a controlling influence in the city, a Vampire Brood living beneath their noses.”
Dani’s demeanour slackened while Mei and Eris cast about for confirmation.
“They’ve set up a cycle,” Grim stated. “It’s all part of the system to keep dumb kids like you focused on a task while the real shot callers make bank on your asses.”
Ian observed the distinctly similar reactions the three ladies went through. Each held the semblance of combined shock and angst, irritation at becoming the butt of a bad joke, one only the schoolyard bullies laughed at. That was as far as it went. Eris, for any number of reasons Ian couldn’t take a guess at, appeared confused at why the world would be so cruel. Mei on the other hand slid behind the curtain of her hair, retreating from a reality she didn’t want to awaken into.
Ian… Ian just sighed. ‘What was with this fucked up world?’ “Dani,” Getting her attention. “What else can you tell us about the 9th?”
Ian listened quietly, taking in the remainder of what Dani knew. It wasn’t much extra, just reinforcing what he already knew. The only surprise was the scope of the Church - thus the 9th’s - reach. Much was the case of everyone and everything in his world, they had a duopoly. On one hand - the 9th; a parasitic organisation dedicated to the extermination of magical creatures, and more specifically powerful Mages. Then the Church was all about giving back and handing out. Charity, donation and providing shelter for those too young, too changed or too scared to go out into a world that no longer made sense.
Once the answers started repeating, Ian called off his Q&A. The biggest bane to the Order’s sensibilities was the power and control the Shifters held in Seattle. They hated dealing with them and loathed even more that they were a power player. It was also worrisome to know the scope of the Church, thus the 9th’s, vindictiveness - what they were willing to do and sacrifice to achieve their ends - namely kill high power Mages.
Ian shrugged and accepted the information, it was more than he’d started with and grilling Dani further wasn’t fair. ‘Besides,’ He thought, ‘I’ve got an insight into their ‘code-of-conduct.’ The rest will come in time…’
“You seem very interested all of a sudden,” Dani asked, without asking.
Ian grinned and stated, “I’ve always been interested, we’ve just had other things on our plate.”
“You’ve got a plan don’t you?” Ember mused, popping a cherry tomato between her plush lips.
“Less a plan,” He admitted, “More that I’m tired of always being in the dark with these things. We’re on the bottom rung and will be until we start tipping things in our favour. We already know Long’s got people in his pocket.” He pointed out with a tilt of the head. “I think it’s about time we start doing the same.”
“You want to get the 9th in your pocket?” Ember guffawed.
He snorted. “You really think that? It’s like you don’t know me.” He winked.
Dani blinked as some of Ian’s smaller actions clicked together. She grinned wickedly, “That’s why you helped out the Kin!” Ian didn’t respond, his even gaze and silence reply enough to tell her ‘not here, not now.’ Dani nodded and returned to her meal.
Mei, who had been playing with her food, listened incredulously as the idle chatter completely ignored her. Dani’s accusation snapped her head up to stare heavily at Ian. When he didn’t reply, she could contain herself no longer.
“Why?” She demanded.
Finishing his mouthful before answering, “Why what?” His voice remained calm as his level stare slowly pressed its weight against her angered glare.
“Don’t give me that shit!" She snapped back, "Why did you do it? Why did you stop it? Why?!” She seethed, voice wavering with unshed emotion.
Ian mentally shook his head, ‘So much for lunch.’ He thought as he examined the distraught Banshee. Pondering over her words his thoughts returned to the moment when he realised what she was going to do. It wasn’t some grand sense of morality that guided his actions, or any kind of duty. Being honest with himself he didn't know why he'd gone to the lengths to try and save her. Was it before, or after, he understood what her titanic shriek had been. It was a hopeless cry, one of desperation and loss in a horrific situation.
“Why not you?” He asked frankly. “You had no choice in what you did. Anything but complete obedience would give you agony without end. The way I see it; you didn’t attack me and mine, your masters did.”
The corner of Mei's eyes crinkled at the mention of 'master.’
Ian knew he had less of a compass to track him through life than most. Raised by a Necronomicon, and being what he was, ought to do that to a person. He did take a little pride in thinking he was better than most others would be, given a similar ‘gift.’
The apartment’s ambient noise faded out of their periphery. If the others were talking, he didn’t hear it. If they were staring at him, he didn’t see it. He was opening his protective Wards to her jabbing probes. She wanted a read on him; fine, so be it. Let her look and judge.
“Why don’t you ask what you really want to know,” Ember 'suggested dangerously.
“What do I want? Ha! What do ‘you’ want? From me?”
From her voice and demeanour, Ian recognised in her anger the same mask that shrouded Dani when she’d appeared on his doormat.
Dani likewise, eyes pinballing between the two, clued into this need but kept her peace. She was savvy enough to know she didn’t have the decision making role - not here anyway. She’d learnt long ago that keeping still in tense situations often yielded better results than accidentally blabbing away a bargaining chip.
“Information.” Ember stated bluntly.
“What she said,” Ian passed the torch. Politics dictated the ‘way’ things were said, was the important factor here, not just the words.
“Information? On what?" Mei voiced. "I'm not giving you the colour of my panties if that’s what you’re after.”
Ember rolled her eyes, huffing about the prejudicial stereotypes. “Funny like a heart attack,” She degraded. “No, as you know my lover likes to look at the big picture,” Shooting a wink Ian’s way. “We have a problem in our way. You, my dear, will be a very helpful tool in dismantling him.” She concluded with a feral grin. “Isn’t that right?”
“You're wanting to take out my-y,” Mei stuttered, rubbing the sting in her arm. “Take him out?”
Ian nodded, his shimmering spectral green eyes giving emotion to his controlled tone. “He’s been playing a very dangerous game. From what I’ve heard and seen he's used lives as trinkets, yours included. I’m not a forgiving man, nor am I a particularly nice one. It seems to me that this scheme of his was well planned, and that doesn’t come without trial and error.”
He gave a meaningful look to Ember. Sending Mei after them had backfired. He wasn’t sure if any others would dare get involved. Even scenting blood, the sharks had long ago learnt to be cautious. So, why not them? ‘Millions of dollars in lost product or a couple of worthless whores…’ Echoed from his unconscious. Knowing now what the man was capable of, Ian took an entirely different meaning from those ‘innocuous’ words.
Back to Mei, “He’s not going to stop, and I frankly don’t enjoy having a target on my back, a price on my head. Directly, indirectly, I don’t give a fuck. He’s tried to kill me and it’s about time someone repaid the favour.”
Mei was brought up short at the determination she felt bleeding off the strangest person she'd ever met. Despite her exuberance at getting a chance to take out the bastard who'd enslaved her, she needed something else from the deal. “If we do this, we do it my way.”
Smile growing slowly, “Agreed.” Ian said.
And with that, they were at war.