Sarah sat in the room Raymond had shown her to--a rather luxurious bedroom--and having found some blank paper in the desk, she decided to try and write down what'd happened so far, it might help her sort things out.
While in another room in that same house, in a chamber filled with arcane symbols and various books of ancient appearance, a crystal globe filled with pinkish smoke glowed faintly. Some distance away from that globe, Giovanni was seated at a desk poring over one of the massive tomes.
The faint hint of malevolent laughter echoes from the globe, prompting a glance and a nod from Giovanni. "It will not be too much longer," he said almost placatingly. "Now that we have her I can begin the final preparations."
"See that you do not take too long...I *shall* live again!!" came the voice.
"Did I not promise you that? You shall have your unlife, Travers, make no mistake. The rite is quite specific--with Sarah's vitae and my magicks combined there will be nothing to prevent your resurrection."
"And then I shall have my revenge." the voice from the globe came again, followed by more evil laughter.
"And I my rebirth," replied Giovanni, dreaming of the moment when he would feel Raymond's fangs pierce his flesh--and of the ecstasy that would follow when he would at long last become immortal.
"But of course." Raymond replied.
Giovanni nodded--all was as it should be, despite the pathetic attempts at interference by that crew Harrington had gathered, Sarah's unlife would end tonight.
* * *
None of this activity was visible, though, from the outside. To all appearances this house was empty, desolate, standing as it did on a road not all that far from the Gettysburg battlefield, but this road was not one that tourists used much if at all. And if anyone did pass, unless they were themselves aware of such things, the magic that now surrounded the place would be invisible. Most ordinary mortals would feel nothing more than uncomfortable too close to the place.
Which was just the way the present owner liked it. The former farmhouse had a reputation among the Amish locals for being haunted, which kept them from being too inquisitive when the 'mysterious foreigner' had purchased the property some years before. Though every now and again Giovanni would find hexes and other warding-off objects or symbols on the edge of the property, with no clue who had left them there.
And with the old battlefield so close...there was so much energy there, even now after the century and some since the battle, it made the place quite suitable. The anguish, horror and pain of those who had died in this place combined with Raymond's own volatile emotions...these would make the ritual complete. That and Sarah's fear in her final moments--for at that point she would realize at last that Raymond's resurrection would mean her own death, but be unable to escape it.
He smiled, all the long months of planning were finally coming together.
* * *
Sarah wrote furiously. She needed to get some of this out and there wasn't anyone she could talk to until Raymond came back. No one she could be sure of anymore, anyway.
This isn't actually my regular journal, that's still in my room at Lourdesmont and right now I don't know when I'll be going back there. If ever.
There's just too much that's happened tonight, too many things I'd taken for granted over the years have suddenly been shown false.
Andrew killed Raymond. I keep coming back to that.
It's not that I haven't heard of vampires killing each other for any number of reasons. I have. I'm not naive. But I do feel like such an idiot. How could I have not seen--they must have been laughing so hard at me behind my back. The little child who had to be kept ignorant of things that would upset her too much...God it makes me want to scream.
I used to think that having become immortal at the age of sixteen was so wonderful--that I could live on and on, see the future I dreamed of so much, in a body that would always be young. The trouble is they all still see me as the child I once was.
Andrew--he's the cause of all this, it still hurts knowing that. I keep asking myself how he could have done this to me. Not just killed Raymond but then lied about it all these years...and gotten everyone else to lie, too.
I have to face the fact that they all knew...all of them. Gabriel. Karen. Father Flanagan--I remember now, Flanagan mentioning that Andrew had written to him and I didn't know he had. I should have realized something wasn't right, then. God, why didn't I push it??
And probably Rene and the DeBruynes, too...and D'arcy...and Giuliana.
(I wonder why I haven't heard from her in a while...oh, why am I even asking?)
Why oh why oh why didn't someone *TELL* me?? Even Father Flanagan--you'd think a *priest* would tell the truth about things.
And it isn't just Andrew. That he wanted my life and killed Raymond because Raymond tried to stop him is hard enough, but there's Gabriel, too. I felt how much he cared. Or I thought I did. God help me I tried to listen to my heart. And look what it's gotten me. Some words printed on paper can be faked, I know that, but I saw for myself how they feel about each other. I *saw*. I wish I knew where Giuliana was, I'd ask her to explain *that*. But how would I know she'd tell me the truth?
I trusted Karen, too. I told her my whole life. She might as well have stabbed me through the heart with her own hands. Not only me, but what this will do to poor Rene--I don't know how I'll ever explain this to him.
The only thing I know is Raymond said something about I could bring him back, so he'd have his own body again and not have to use Giovanni's. I don't understand that, either--I'm no magician, I'm not even an Elder of our kind (from what I've heard, some of the oldest ones, if they're even still in existence, would be almost like gods...but that's only legends.)
If there is something I can do, though, I'll have to. Andrew won't get to me again the way he might have fifty years ago--I'm *not* the innocent child I was then, the way everyone seems to think.
Sarah shook her head and laid aside the pen and paper; even writing out her tormented thoughts was too much of an effort now, she was tired, more than she'd been in a long time. Emotionally as well as physically. She threw herself on the bed and eventually drifted off to sleep.
* * *
David was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last half hour or so. Nothing was adding up, though, two plus two had suddenly started equaling five.
Harrington's ward Sarah had run off. That much he understood. That and that whoever had kidnapped his mother had been bothering the girl, too, and that person (the same bastard who'd kidnapped his mother) now had Sarah and possibly (judging by the way the one man had carried on) at least one, if not two, other people.Karen, he remembered from the night he and John had had dinner at Lourdesmont, but he had never heard of "Gabriel".
Rhys--who was apparently a grown up Brendan, and how that could be he wasn't at all sure about, time travel was something he had only heard about in Star Trek and suchlike and he'd never been too into science fiction--was a *vampire hunter*??? that too, he'd gotten from the rather heated exchanges between DeCant, Brendan and Harrington.
Nor did he know how the two women had managed to just appear out of nowhere, Kenyon's friend and the other dark skinned one who hadn't said much aside from one outburst just after Sarah'd run off and he'd arrived.
There was also still the mystery of what he'd definitely heard Andrew shout just as he'd gotten there...he was sure he'd heard the name "Raymond". The sheer coincidence was getting to be too much. Two Sarahs, fifty years apart, the younger one so much like the elder had been so long ago, and both being connected to a "Raymond"??
He'd promised not to bother Kenyon with all the questions but he wondered how long he could keep that promise.
He could hear Dejah and Kenyon talking, then Dejah's ring flashed and another strange woman appeared...and the next thing he knew he and everyone else wasn't standing outside the cottage anymore, but outside a run down abandoned farmhouse.
He wasn't even going to ask how they'd gotten there--it was just more weirdness on top of all the other weirdness tonight. But sooner or later, damn it, DeCant *was* going to start talking.
He looked at the old farmhouse. It didn't look like anyone had lived there for years. In fact the place gave him the creeps though he didn't know why. It was the sort of place kids would whisper about to each other or dare one another to go to.
"Where exactly are we anyway?" David asked anyone who'd listen.
Dejah turned around, "Not a good place to be, but a place we have to be." She said simply. "Of course, you really shouldn�t be here, but since you are..." She shrugged.
"Wait a minute." David stared at her, "If you�re here, who�s with my mother and my family?"
The female FBI agent/mage snorted, "Wards. In case you haven�t noticed, the greater majority of us ain�t normal. If Giovanni breaks my wards, I�ll know and there�ll be hell to pay." Her eyes glinted cold steel for just a fraction of a second. "Lots more hell than he�s gonna be payin� already."
* * * * *
Back at Lourdesmont...
"Damn," D'Arcy whispered as he realized that Sarah and Rene weren't coming back. But by that time he'd gotten the motley group of new arrivals settled in the dining room and ready for a council of war.
"Sir, M'sieur Poulignac," the woman began, "we are servants of the one you know as Gabriel Tallant, and we've been sent here to aid your efforts by Mr. Benjamin Cullen. Mr. Cullen is Gabriel's lawyer and friend, and he sent someone named Andrew -- is he here? -- a box of information on Raymond Travers and Cristoforo Giovanni..."
D'Arcy nodded. "Andrew is not here at present. I believe that he and the FBI agent that he'd contacted are searching for Mr. Giovanni's location."
"Okay, so what are we all doing sitting here?" Francis burst out. He stood up and began pacing around the edges of the room. He had been feeling more and more edgy as the hours with the strange group of people whom his uncle had ordered him to "lead" had worn on. He picked up a small box from the sideboard and began to toss it from hand to hand as he roamed.
"Do you mind?" One of the men took it from him and began to put it back on the sideboard. Then he stiffened and took it to where Subira and Poulignac were sitting side-by-side at the end of the long table. "I think you should read this," he told her, proffering the box.
Subira took it, and read the superscription. Her expression hardened. She unwrapped the thin paper from the box and opened it. Her hands screened the contents from Francis' view, but the group around the table seemed to all freeze as she drew in a deep breath. Francis began walking towards them. Subira quickly closed the box after taking a folded paper from within it, and tucked it into a pocket of her robes. She sat back in the wooden chair and unfolded the paper.
"What was that?" Francis asked as he reached them.
"Nothing you need to know about," Subira said. Her voice was curt. "Go sit down, Cullen, and stay out of this. Your uncle meant well, but you are but a puppy bent on mischief."
Francis opened his mouth to protest, to assert his own superiority to a mere wog, and a woman wog at that, but the man who'd taken the box from him took his upper arm in a hard grip and pulled him aside.
Meanwhile, Subira had read through the message and was talking low-voiced to D'Arcy. Francis couldn't make out much besides a sense of outrage and dismay.
"You knew about this and did nothing!" Subira hissed.
D'Arcy remained as unflappable as ever. "What would you have had me do? Run off into the night after the veriest wildfire? Uncertain as to where to go? What to do? Possibly hurting the self-same people I sought to save? Gather yourself together and use your brain."
Subira fumed for a moment and then grudgingly nodded her agreement. "Fine. Whatever. What do we do now?"
D'Arcy shrugged. "If I knew that, would I be here? You saw how the children ran off into the night. There would have been nothing any of us could have done to stop them. To stop any of this. I believe that what is going to happen cannot be stopped by any of us."
"Shows how much you know," Subira said as she thrust a letter into D'Arcy's hands. She watched as he read it and noticed the single raised eyebrow. "Got any idea who this Rhys fella is?" she finally asked.
"None," D'Arcy replied. "Although he does seem to be the one ordained to solve this mystery. It would also appear he is a friend of Tallant's. And you know nothing of him?" D'Arcy allowed himself a brief smug smile. "I find that hard to believe."
"Believe what you want. That still does not bring us any closer to rescuing Tallant," Subira poked a long finger into D'Arcy's chest. "And if you think I am trusting some weirdo stranger to save Tallant, then you have another think coming."
Francis perked up. "Another drink? I could certainly use one of those."
Everyone turned to look at him and in unison said "Shut up!"
Francis withered right back into his seat.A gentle, rose-scented wind blew through the open dining room door, rustling the linen tablecloth. Subira noticed the light in her host's eyes then noticed the pale figure in ancient formal dress that materialized next to him.
"Isabelle," D'Arcy breathed.
Subira watched as the ghostly figure moved its lips, no sound issuing forth. Then D'Arcy's eyes grew wide indeed and Subira narrowed hers.
"It would seem that the FBI agents have employed some special talents," D'arcy began, "and have discovered that Gabriel and Karen are being held captive in a farmhouse not far from the Gettysburg battlefields. It is a place that is under a glamour so it will be difficult to find it without the help of the agent who has already transported the people who are destined to save the hostages to that spot. It would appear that Travers and Giovanni are using the energy that still permeates the battlefields to augment what they already have." He smiled smugly. "Yet they did not count on all the postive energy that is stronger then any negative residual energy. It should prove interesting."
"Interesting?" Subira squeaked. "And we ain't there? I almost don't think so!"
She turned back to the other members of her group still gathered around the dining table and they all began to talk at once. Francis rested his arms on the table and put his head into them willing this whole thing to just go away.
Isabelle looked sadly over the group, then slowly faded from sight.
* * * * *
At Giovanni's...
Sarah stirred, she hadn't really slept, it wasn't day yet after all, and she was simply too upset about everything that had happened. Though she still felt so tired, she *couldn't* sleep.
She gave up the effort, and opened her eyes to see someone standing over her, blinked for a moment, then saw it was Giovanni. At least, Giovanni's body..."Giovanni?" she asked, tentatively, "or Raymond?"
He smiled and touched her cheek, then spoke in Raymond's voice. "It's me, and it's almost time. I was hoping you'd be awake still, I didn't want to have to wait another night for us to be together again without Giovanni's help."
Sarah looked up at the strange dark eyes--Raymond's own had been blue, she remembered. Though the eyes were different colored the emotions behind them were Raymond's, he was still just the way he'd been fifty years ago. "I still don't understand," she said quietly. "I've never heard of being able to come back from Final Death. And how can I help, anyway? I'm not a magician, like Giovanni is."
"You don't have to be, Sarah. All you have to do is, to start with, drink this. You'll feel better and be strong enough for what comes later." He handed her a bottle containing a dark red liquid.
She looked at it for a moment, then nodded and opening it, drank eagerly. He was right about that, the vitae was *just* what she needed right now.
When she'd finished, she set the empty bottle aside and met Raymond's eyes. "What do I have to do now?" she asked, her hand touching his.
He smiled inwardly, but was careful not to let her see it on his face. Oh, she was putty in his hands, just as he had known she would be.
"Just let a little of your vitae fall into the dust bin in Giovanni's lab," he said gently. "He gathered up every particle he could find from the ruins of that old house...and used his magics to draw my ashes back together. A few drops from you--and I'll live again. Back in my own body." he bent down and kissed her full on the lips. "Then it'll be like it should've been years ago, and I promise Andrew Harrington will never come between us again. Not him or anyone else."
Sarah let him kiss her...God how she'd missed that. Then she gazed into his eyes as the implications of what he'd said sank in. "Raymond...my blood?"
"Only a little, a few drops," he said again, in his most reassuring voice. "That'll be more than enough to recreate me, especially with Giovanni's magic helping out." He held out his hand to her. "I won't force you, Sarah, but it's the only way I can be myself again."
She took it. He was right about one thing. Raymond was the only person left she could trust, without him she had no one.
She let him lead her into the corridor, then to another room where a bath was ready for her. "It's part of getting ready for the magic," Raymond explained, "there's herbs and such in the water." He kissed her again. "I've got to leave Giovanni's body again, so he can do what he needs to. Wait here until he calls you--then come right through there," he indicated a doorway, next to which was a chair over the back of which was a simple white robe. "put that on first."
Sarah nodded and waited until Raymond/Giovanni left, then undressed and entered the bath...God, the warm, scented water did feel good.
* * *
Raymond/Giovanni returned to the main room, and stood beside the globe. A moment later the pink smoke within began to glow slightly again, and Giovanni moved away from it to begin arranging the various arcane objects that lay about in a pattern. The smell of incense candles began to fill the room.
After several minutes, he paused, looked over his handiwork, then turned and left. There was one more item to put into place before it would be time to call Sarah in, and then--well, it might be even sweeter to add a guest to the night's proceedings.
Giovanni hurried into his inner room and retrieved the silver dagger. The special one, with the mystic symbols carved into the hilt. This would be what Sarah would use to cut herself when the ritual got underway--and she would do it to herself, Raymond had convinced her of the need for that. Foolish kindred child, to be so easily led. Fifty years of immortality had taught her little, it seemed. But it was just as well. Soon she would cease to be, and two others would gain eternal existence from that death--first Raymond and then himself. He smiled again exulting in the thought of what was coming, to know that after tonight he would be immortal at long last, the gift those fools back in Venice had denied him so long ago.
He began the incantation that would prepare the dagger for its intended use. Once that was done, he turned to call Sarah, but then paused.
There was a way to evoke even greater strength from the darkness that surrounded this place and the ancient battlefield nearby. The plan had been to use Sarah's own fear of impending inescapable death, and it still would be. But he could add to that final anguish to strengthen the rite.
All he had to do was complete what he had attempted once before, back on New Year's Eve, only to be cheated out of that by that fool Rhys' interference. This time that wouldn't be a problem. And he had a few minutes, more than enough time.
A tendril of mystic energy leapt from his hands as he murmured the ancient words...then it rose into the air and streaked away--in the direction of Clearbrook, Minnesota.
* * *
Dejah cocked her head to the side after speaking to David. Yes, she had been right. The asshole was trying to break her wards. Well, he hadn�t run into them yet, but just in case... _Cody!_ She snapped. When she didn�t get an answer, she snapped louder. _Dakota!_
_What?_ Came the reply.
_Wards. Minnesota. Keep an eye on them._ She returned, shortly and sweetly and cut contact. Returning her attention to the current situation, always keeping her mind�s eye on her wards, but not as vigilant, now that her boys were alert.
~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth sat quietly in her rocking chair, reading in the quiet light, when she heard a thump on the window. She looked up, but didn�t see anything. Curiosity took over better judgment and she got up to take a real look. Still nothing. "Silly squirrels." She muttered and returned to her reading.
~~~~~~~~~~
Giovanni settled himself for a minute, the spell took time, after all. He was prepared for Elizabeth Lindsay to appear before him, instead, the mist returned and dissipated. His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat with what sounded like a deep growl. He shook his head, raised his hands and let a stronger spell fly.
Again it returned, but not without knocking into Giovanni with a force strong enough to throw him on the ground. In the air, he heard the mocking voice of a male youth. *Do it again, shit for brains, come on, I dare ya!*
His eyes narrowed. More of these pathetic attempts at interference?? The fools *still* did not realize they had already lost--Sarah was even now preparing for the ritual that would restore Raymond's unlife (though she did not yet know that that would cost her her own).
"Arrogant pup!" Giovanni snarled, and let another spell fly. "You defend what is already forfeit!! Surrender lest I rend your spirit and send it shrieking into a million ectoplasmic pieces!!!"
"Oh, that one hurt, eh Cody?" A new voice, still taunting and still invisible.
"Oh yea." The first voice laughed.
"Whelps! Show yourselves, cowards!" Giovanni was quickly losing his patience. How could these young fools actually be *here*?
"I�m right here, asshole." Giovanni turned around again and stared at a boy, about 16 or 17 years old, long black hair, braided in was an eagle�s feather, tanned skin and a glowing orb in his hands. Behind him, was another boy, looking just a bit younger, short blonde hair, pale, very pale.
"An apprentice mage and a vampire childe." The necromancer sneered, "Pitiful."
The boys exchanged looks, "He gets off on raising dead corpses and he�s calling *us* pitiful." The first youth scoffed.
"How did you manage to get in here?" Giovanni tried in vain to keep his temper. It was best not to waste magic before the ritual. He felt a light smack on the back of his head and turned to see the youngest of them all, jet black hair and eyes, short and tiny, but definitely dangerous, surrounded by a white light.
"They had a little help." The ghost said, his accent was distinctly Russian.
Dakota, the mage, was itching to try the new spell Marikus had taught him just a week ago. It would throw this jerk into the middle of next week, literally. He raised his hands and was about to speak when he head Dejah�s mental scolding. _Cody! Tres! Christian! What the hell are you all doing in there?! Go home!_
_You told us to watch the damn wards!_ Dakota retorted, dropping his hands.
_I did, but I meant for you to make sure that none of his spells broke them. I did not mean for you to go in and try to kick his ass. He�s got twice the experience of all of you put together and could easily whip you. Now attend!_ She snapped angrily and cut the contact, but she had made her point.
"Fine." Dakota muttered under his breath.
"She always ruins our fun. Then again, she�s better than Gregory." Tres - the vampire - sighed. "Oh well."
"I am *not* looking forward to her coming home." Christian mumbled. Then winked at Giovanni and disappeared. The other youths with him.
The necromancer checked his room over one more time. They were gone, but he didn�t know why. He hadn�t picked up on the mental conversation that had gone on between them and their mentor. But that all didn�t matter. They were gone. He decided not to try for Elizabeth again, best not to waste anymore magic, but the teenagers had mentioned a �she�... He had to move quickly, now he knew they had company he and Travers hadn�t expected.
