Part 11

Kenneth Irons sat sipping his drink, watching the flames lick at the thick log in the fireplace. He turned to face Ian as he arrived.

"She is beautiful, Ian. You should be proud to have her as a wife."

Ian did not look up, but did stagger briefly as the words fell upon his ears.

"You think I would not know? I saw how you looked at each other. Unless I am remiss there is a little trouble in paradise, is there not?"

"She wants to leave."

"And why does she want to leave?" Irons turned back to the fireplace.

"She saw the scars on my back. She thinks you are a monster."

"And what do you think, Ian."

Ian did not answer.

"So your loyalties lie with her now. Are you to leave me as well?"

"She has asked me to."

"Answer my question, Ian. Are you leaving?"

Ian fell to his knees, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Irons continued to stare at the flames. "She will leave you, you know. She will break your heart, Ian. I have given you everything and you risk it all on a woman. You disappoint me, Ian." Time to move to Plan B. Irons made a motion with his hand.

Ian never saw what was coming. He was on his knees and his vision was too blurred by tears to react in time. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the vision of Sara�s face in his mind�s eye.

Kenneth Irons watched as a second version of Ian, this one clean-shaven, lifted the unconscious body and carried it out of the study.

Sara hung the velvet gown back on its hanger and hung it on the front of the closet door, obscuring the full length mirror mounted there and began to gather her personal belongings. She�d have to get the items still in the trunk of Irons� car at a later date. Tears streamed down her face as she undressed for bed. The bed seemed far too large and empty. She hugged her pillow and cried for hours. When she finally did sleep, visions of herself and Ian from another life made her cry out in her sleep.

As the early morning light peeped through the curtains, a soft knock at the door startled her. She sat up on the edge of the bed and considered not answering it for a moment. Finally she stood, wrapped the sheet around herself and went to the door.

Opening the door, Sara saw Ian. He had shaved. She turned away from the door, leaving it ajar, waiting to hear what he would say.

Ian came inside, closing the door behind him. He came to stand behind Sara, putting his arms around her. When she said nothing, he tugged at the edge of the sheet wrapped around her. She dropped it and turned to face him. His finger slowly pushed the strap of her camisole off her shoulder.

Sara�s hands came up to pull at his sweater. She was leaving in an hour. Might as well enjoy one last time. He allowed her to remove his sweater and she rested her head against his chest, her hot tears sliding down his skin. Finally she looked up to him, "I wish you hadn�t shaved."

He laughed and turned her towards the bed, guiding her to it. At that moment, the blue velvet gown Sara had carefully re-hung, slipped off the hangar and fell to the floor. She glanced towards the closet over Ian�s shoulder. Her eyes widened. There was no tattoo.

Gabriel walked down the sidewalk with a spring in his step. Today was starting off with a bang. He glanced back over at his shoulder, watching as the doors swung shut on the building he�d just left and then back to the business card in his hand. He�d met Dominique Boucher and copped the name and number of one of her models within hours of crawling out of bed. Definitely a good day. Time to find Sara Pezzini.

The bright fluorescent lights caused him to squint. Ian awoke to find himself strapped to a table. Looking around as much as the restraints would allow, he recognized that he was in the infirmary of the mansion. He pulled at the straps, but they did not give. He dropped his head back onto the table in defeat. He had lost her. He could not tell what time of day it was in the windowless room. He wondered if she had already gone to work, if she had told Mr. Irons she wouldn�t be back. Tears slid down the sides of his face. He could not even protect her now. He had failed. Motion in the corner of the room caught his eye and he strained to see who was there.

"Who is there? Who is it?"

"Have no fear, Ian." Elizabeth Bronte stood beside the table, looking down at Ian, a sad smile on her face.

"How?"

"The Witchblade is a part of you now too, Ian. Remember the wounds on your wrists?"

"Yes. What can I do?"

"There is nothing you can do but wait. Be patient, Ian. Sara will not abandon you. Rest, gather your strength. Wait until opportunity arises and then strike."

"She thinks I have abandoned her."

"Perhaps, but she does not know that your task here is not done."

"Tell her. Tell her I love her."

Elizabeth smiled, "I know you do." With that, she faded from view.

Kenneth Irons watched the monitor with interest. Ian had partially undressed Sara and they were heading to the bed. He wondered how long it would take her to discover the deception. The new and improved Ian would not show Sara the same emotion as his predecessor. Physical love yes, but Sara would tire of that he was certain. She would come to him for information on the Witchblade and he could work his charms on her without interference. And failing that, he�d find a way to keep her here. Even if it meant using her, dare he say it, husband, as the bait.

Sara asked the tattoo-less Ian, "Are you going to leave him today?"

"Yes."

Sara faked a smile. "We should be going before anyone in the main house wakes. You can find us an apartment while I�m at work and we can do this when I get off work tonight. It will give me something to look forward to." Although Sara�s instinct was to run and run fast, something in her brain warned her to play along. She fought down her fear and smiled again.

"As you wish."

"Pick me up at the station at five this evening. I�ll leave my bags here and let you take them with you." Sara watched for a reaction, hoping her nervousness wasn�t showing through. "I�ve gotta get to work or I�m going to be late." She grabbed her jeans and stepped into them. Next came her sweater, then her jacket. Steeling her nerves she stepped close to the doppleganger and gave him a kiss. "Love you." Without waiting for a reply she headed for the door and once out it, ran for her bike.


Irons turned as the clone returned to the study. "Does she suspect?"

"No."

"Excellent." He smiled and took a sip from the porcelain cup in his hands.


Jake McCartey heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching as he got out of his car. Here it comes. He lifted two cups of coffee out of the drink holders, waiting for Sara to get off her bike.

Sara strode up to Jake. He held out a cup of coffee for her. She snatched the coffee from his hand and with her eyes flashing, said through her teeth, "What the hell were you doing in my apartment?"

"It�s not what it looks like, Pez."

"I�m not even sure what it looks like, Jake. Why don�t you tell me that too, while you�re at it."

"I didn�t set the fire if that is what you�re thinking. I think I know who did though."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "That still doesn�t explain what you were doing there, but let�s hear it."

"Tommy Gallo. I did some checking, Pez. He�s been associated with arsonists before. His list of pals reads like a prison roster . . . hitmen, firebugs, thieves . . . he�s got one guy working for him that fits the bill to a tee. Rudy Foy.

"And now the question I have to ask is why were you there?"

Jake sighed and took a swallow of his coffee. "Pez," he looked around to make sure no one was watching or listening, "I�m not the rookie you think I am."

"Internal Affairs?" she whispered.

"No, but you�re on the right track. I�ve been checking into some stuff going on in the department. That�s why I asked to be your partner. I thought you might be involved. That�s why I was at your place. I know now I was wrong. I can�t tell you any more right now."

Sara nodded, her brows knitted together. "Ok, I�ll buy that. Now what?"

"Now we go after Tommy Gallo."

"I don�t want to bust him on anything but murder, Jake. He killed Maria. I�m certain of it, I just can�t prove it . . . " Sara saw Danny, smiling, leaning against a patrol car, " yet." She looked back to Jake.

"You know it�s funny, Pez."

"What�s funny?" She looked back at the patrol car, but Danny was gone.

"You don�t look any different."

"What do you mean?"

"I don�t know. I just figured getting married, somehow you�d be a little different."

To Jake�s utter surprise, Sara burst into tears.