A New Assignment

I'd taken her....

Gods help us all but I'd never even left the Maelstrom, instead just traversed through it the farthest that I ever had to get with her to L.A. while praying to something the entire way that the extended period in here wouldn't affect her or the baby. I didn't have a lot by any means, but I had enough to hole her away in a Hotel that would be safe enough until i could get some actual ground work laid out to do something else. She didn't want to be found and obviously by certain people so where was the best hiding spot but the one that was so stupidly obvious that everyone would never think of it. So there I'd left her, hoping that common sense would prevail and that by the time I got back, she'd still be there. Temp out wandering alone anywhere right now...It just didn't sit well with me. Not one bit. Thankfully I'd been dressed in enough of a fashion when pulling her over that I hadn't needed to worry about clothes and worse comes to worse, I'd have to work something out with Zero when I talked to her. How much could an outfit or two really cost ? What did way on my mind though was I hadn't told anyone I was leaving...Not even K. How I longed for Anatole's voice, his advice, his calming tea to put things into a logical perspective.

~Don't lie, you just want to see if kissing him in the flesh would be like in the dream.~

So that's where my thoughts lead me, a rooftop some few blocks from my new Boss's compound. One that allowed me to have the place in my sights without being too obscenely obvious to anyone watching from it's skyline. Reclining back against the aluminum and concrete shelter that housed the staircase leading up here, a cigarette was tapped out of a pack and pressed between burgundy and smoke slicked lips. An almost idle flick of a Zippo had life hissing along the end opposite of my lips before both flame and pack were sent back away. Bitch clicks were quiet as I tapped impatiently, trying to figure the best thing to say to Zero when I called. "Hey Boss I'm in town and I have someone I need you to hide. I also need a front on my first check. Oh by the way, did you have any odd jobs you need done currently ?" That was the least plausible and yet the most thing to cross my mind and in that moment I was glad I couldn't feel the bite of the wind that suddenly seemed to hitting me from all sides with a viscous snap to it. Shifting long, leather and chain embraced legs to reallocate my weight more evenly, I drew the bow around from my back right side. Raising it so that the scope I'd managed with a few bits of help to attach was fixed on Zero's roof, I realized that as I'd expected, just dropping in from above and sauntering in without notice simply wasn't going to happen.

~If you keep looking at things that way, your dream never will come true. An attitude like that will never make a city like this yours. And that is what you want, right ?~

The fag was rubbed out, butt tossed over the edge of the roof as the bow was strapped back in place along with it's case. Mirrored smoke and shadow eyes flickered as I simply stepped up to the edge of the roof and dropped. Down to the first landing of the fire escape and then the next before finally saying fuck it to the last three and simply shooting for the ground. Not quite hitting the landing exactly right, I rolled with it instead of fighting it. Coming to my feet in a three point stance, head tucked down so that eyes were imperceptible behind the chin length fall of Maelstrom marked Burgundy, I scanned the alley way that I'd chosen. Ah, empty as I had hoped. Either that or the eyes that watched were ones that remained purposely hidden. Close as we were to the Lair, it could be hoped that any eyes that remained hidden were friendly, and if not, I could use a good rough and tumble right about now. When after a few moments no one poked their head, nose, or other protruding body parts out, I rose slowly to my feet. Shrugging and rolling a bit to better settle the uniquely designed trench I wore, fingers dug for the cellphone that was safely nestled into an inner pocket. Hitting an unmarked number that was still saved to speed dial, I pressed it to my ear and waited.

There was something of mild interest, easily ignored if the observer was too distracted with their own problems. A good explanation for why an alarm had yet to be sounded, then again this was LA. It was more likely, it had been noticed, but no one wanted to get involved.

From behind the dumpster stuck a bare ankle and foot, positioned like its owner was seated on the trash strewn ground, back propped against the cement wall. Rain pooled on the street, falling and stopping on it's own personal clock. Giving no care for how it inconvenienced others.

The foot was dirty, tall and wide enough that it probably belonged to a man. Well shaped but far from dainty. There was no sound from that direction, nor any attempt made to keep dry, or defend from the weather. It had rained recently, and the pale skin was still damp with it. Nails caked in dirt, and darker things.

Fuck me.

It was brief. Succinct. A personal favorite coin phrase. When the call finally hit a voice mail, the message left was brief as well. Nothing important. Nothing direct. As if the caller were paranoid of someone other than the intended receiving the message. Or perhaps other ears hearing it as well, one couldn't be too entirely sure. Yet regardless, it was enough that the Arch-Bishop of L.A. would recognize it for what it was. A note stating that I was here, nearby, in need of a bit of help if it could be had, and of course, more than ready for work. I knew K was expected to be with me, but that lovely little tidbit would just have to be explained in person, now wouldn't it ? The shorter the message was and the less detail it gave, the better. Besides, the Boss Lady and I had to have something to talk about, didn't we ?

The phone was tucked back in pocket, the ringer left set high enough that I'd hear it but not a single soul else unless they were far closer than I had any intention of letting anyone get, especially out here in the streets. Another fag was extracted, tucked to lip and lit, a set of actions so practiced that I likely did it in my sleep. Thank God Vampires couldn't catch Human disease such as Cancer, otherwise I'd be right fucked. Not the drive you up against a wall, run fangs down the throat and tease each other until you were panting for the breath you no longer needed kind, but the bend you over and ass fuck you with no lube. My thoughts were less than focused on my surroundings as I pushed away from the wall that I'd taken to leaning on, or I would have seen the whatever it was sticking out from behind the dumpster. Or so I would assure myself later. But they weren't and thus I found myself going ass over tea kettle, face first into a puddle of rain water and Gods only knew what else.

"What the bleedin fuck.....?"

Spitting out the bit of the liquid that had found it's way passed my lips, that fag a more than lost cause, I made sure it was fully out before tossing it into the dumpster itself. Then a good and thorough look was taken at whatever it was that had tripped me up. A foot. A bare foot at that. Oh you had to be kidding me. Of course there would be someone else in this alley, a someone who had just seen me look less able to walk than most two year olds. Crouching down, one hand resting against the Dumpster itself, those dark optics would slowly work their way, from tips of feet all the way up to top of head. It was a slow perusal, not a sensual one, but an intent one none the less. All the while, I was reaching out with one of the gifts that Anatole had shared with me. The ability to find a creature type by sheer and simple study had proven a delight many times before, and knowing what I did of this city, I wasn't going to risk my ass, no matter how harmless the person may or may not look.

It was a figure, or more a pair of them.

Now that she had stopped to look, a great deal had gone down here. Bullet holes marred most of the ally's surfaces, the cement walls and ground. Part of the story was told in the metal of the dumpster that had failed to act as a shield against a trail of fully automatic gunfire that had eaten away at a good potion of the front right corner.

The foot did belong to a man. Unfamiliar. his clothing so tattered that it was difficult to tell what shape it had originally been. The rain soaked cloth was mostly leather, shards and bits were all that remained of armored paneling. The other foot was bare also, perhaps his boots were amidst the ruin around him.

Still there was no movement. No sound.

Cradled protectively in his lap was a chared figure. Small. The form had it's head tucked under his chain, which was low enough that wet strands of dark hair covered his features. Cloaking them completely from sight at the angle she currently held. The way it was positioned, the narrow bladed long sword that extended from his chest would have pierced it's heart a fraction of an instant before it had found his own.

Impossibly fast and steady a hand would have been required for such a feat. Strong too, since the blade was probably buried a good six inches into the wall, pinning the two of them there like a pair of butterflies.

He bore no aura, but the remains in his arms seemed to bare an echo of it's last moments. As if it's last seconds hadn't been long enough for the mind to accept what was happening. The soul was gone, past caring. Lost to the darkness of oblivion, but the charcoal bones still sand of bitter sorrow.

He was whole, though damaged almost past repair. Holes were open in his flesh, cuts decorating skin where the shots had missed. The tribal tattoos that cloaked each shoulder would have to be redone, if he lived.

There was the first, slow shake of a head. The denial of what I was seeing even as it lay there before me. A child. Screw the man but this had been done to a child. A finely honed, viscous frenzy rose, sending jagged blossoms of luminescent purple shooting hot through my eyes. Fingers clenched. Tight, then tight again around the edge of the Dumpster, hard enough to be almost painful even for me, which considering my Father clan was not all that difficult to do. I didn't think this to be Zero's type of work, and if it was, then perhaps I needed to rethink my chosen line of work. The one thing that was supposed to be held sacred was laying here, razor sharp edge pinning it to it's guardian before to the wall. It had me on edge enough to have my fangs a constant thrumming ache, wanting to drive into flesh and tear. Wanting to hear screams, and even those would be too kind for what had been done...

~Come on Jezz. Snap yourself out of it. Ain't going to do any good if you lose it here.~

Thank you conscience, you son of a bitch. I wiped the back of my hand across the back of my eyes, surprised to see the streak of scarlet that came away. I had no children, nor would I ever now. I couldn't make everyone that I saw killed or harmed my own personal crusade. I'd drive myself batty that way. That wouldn't stop me from seeing this one laid to rest. As for the one that had died with her...If there was any chance that one could be saved, there would be questions answered. While I wasn't exactly sure how to go about it, or even if I could, I at least had to try, oh Mr No one of the lacking aura. I finally gave into the now gnawing insistence for my fangs to release and as I did an arm was lifted, wrist snug and tight to my lips as I separated the skin in a long, clean gash. A strip of cloth was torn from the lining of the trench, one that was warm from my motion even if my body itself no longer produced heat. Saturating it in my own vitae while I still rested there on my knees, a flick or two of my tongue sealed the wound over again, another swipe or so cleaning the excess from where it had trailed down my skin.

~Heya now Jezz are you sure this is even a good idea ? There's gotta be a reason they're here like this. Do you really want to risk pissing in your Boss's cheerios already ?~

Oh for Pete's sake make up your mind on what you want to advise me. Funny words to say to what was a figment of my own psyche. It was too late now, and wise or foolish, I had leaned in as close as I dared, my free hand moving as gingerly as possible to brush the nape of his neck. The other brought the soaked strip of cloth close enough that I could control when and if he reached it. Tilting my head just enough to shift my loose hair out of my eyes, I calmed myself as much as possible, not wanting to risk him seeing the oddity that was my eyes and spooking him into further damage if he was even alive still. My voice was kept low, a soft whisper that he'd be able to hear, but one that wouldn't be too heavy or sound threatening in any way.

"If you're alive Buddy, you're hurt something fierce. I know this is going to sound weird but I need you to take some of this from this strip. The liquid will help by you time until I can get help."

A wind picked up, keening as it spun and twisted down the ally, whipping up Jezz's hair a moment before it smashed into the skeletal figure the man held. Charred bone falling away to ash and soot beneath the onslaught. One moment the remains were pinned with him to the wall, and the next he was alone, cradling only it's memory.

The scent of blood seemed to stir the figure, but not enough that it could even be called a real response. It wasn't until his voice wheezed past cracked lips. "...Help..." The offered blood was ignored as he lifted the arm that had been shielding her, and reached out after what was already lost.

"...Help..." Lustrous opalescent eyes turned in the direction the wind was howling, as if somehow he could still see the flakes of the body as they were swept away. He struggled suddenly to rise, the effort only serving to do more damage as the blade through his jerked under the motion, it's edge biting ever deeper.

As if it could do more damage then had already been done.

It was an exercise in futility, he just wasn't strong enough to rise. Too far gone to even notice the sword that held him. The lifted hand moved, seemed to teleport it was so fast, iron fingers suddenly grasping the wrist that was extended toward him. He had more then enough potency to crush the bones underneath, but wasn't holding tightly enough to leave bruises behind.

"...Help her..." He whispered, requesting the impossible, pleaded for it, begged her to tell him it wasn't real, couldn't be real.

No. Not again

I hadn't been able to Help X. Or Tempest. Or even myself. I hadn't been strong enough to help free Anatole from his servitude to Lillith. Not truly. How was I supposed to help this man who strong as he may seem looked to be upon Charon's door ? How was I supposed to help him with the monumental task he asked of me ? Then I remembered. Where I hadn't been strong enough to help myself, I'd had to swallow my pride and ask for help, or Maelstrom forbid, accept that which was being offered, in whatever form it may come. He was already doing the asking, but she was gone. What could I do ? I was no miracle worker and yet what he asked of me was exactly that.

It would seem this was the night for epiphanies.

"I'll help her. Or at least I'll try. But you're going to need to be alive to help me. Now drink this and Maelstrom be willing heal. And damn you, LIVE."

That last word was all but hissed, not so much angrily as with insistence. As if by my own sheer force of will, I could give him the strength he needed to continue living. Carefully extracting my wrist from his grasp, I dropped the cloth into the hand that had just been emptied. Giving him one last look, hoping that he'd heed my words but by no means being sure, I pushed to my feet. I couldn't lie to him. That cold, unreal comfort would be more damage than help, and I'd be damned if I'd harbor to such weakness. He deserved it, surely he did, but right now my focus was on trying to do something, what exactly I wasn't quite sure. So let us hope that instinct and sheer brass balls would be enough. Otherwise this was going to go quite badly, perhaps for both of us.

Putting my back to him, even injured as he was left me with a vague disquiet, yet I did none the less, hoping that my agreement to try to help her, would for now buy me some modicum of safety, at least from him. Turning my full focus then in the direction in which the had howled, I slipped off one of my gloves. Finger-less though they may be, I wanted full skin for this. Capturing into my palm one of the last remaining remnants if not the last of the smaller being's body, I reached out. Calling for the Maelstrom, both it's physical being as well as the Totem that had marked me as Her Emissary, her Mortalis bound representation, I opened myself to it. Using that bit, however slight as it may be as my Focii , I attempted to reach to wherever she had been pulled and somehow pull her back.