Part 7

On a rooftop across from Sara�s building, a man stood rifle in hand. He watched intently through the powerful scope as Sara sat at her kitchen table drinking coffee and nibbling on a cookie, framing her perfectly in the crosshairs. He never saw what hit him.

Ian looked down at the body of Gallo�s man. "How dare you." He lifted the rifle and scope to his own eye. He watched Sara drinking the coffee he had fixed for her. She lifted another cookie off the plate, bringing it to her mouth. A slow smile played on his lips, his finger caressing the trigger guard much as he�d like to caress her.

He turned back to the unconscious man lying on the rooftop, fury in his eyes.

Sara finished her coffee and slipped on her jacket, unaware of the Witchblade glowing softly on her wrist. She grabbed her helmet and walked out of the apartment, locking the door securely behind her.

Jake McCartey pushed folder after folder into tall stacks on his desk. Siri had assigned him to be Pezzini�s new partner following Danny�s death, after a bit of wheedling on his part. Sara had seemed nonplussed when he�d mentioned the new assignment to her, but then she�d been consumed with grief at the time. He leaned back in his chair, forgetting about the paperwork for a bit, but thinking about Pezzini instead. What had made her call him and then stand him up? Some sort of joke?

A familiar voice broke his reverie, "Jake, I am SO sorry about last night. I must have fallen asleep from exhaustion. I didn�t wake up until early this morning."

Jake turned to see Sara, holding a cup of coffee out to him with an apologetic look on her face. "I thought you had a few days off? And don�t worry about it . . .I know you must have been through the wringer over . . . what happened." He accepted the coffee from her, taking a long sip.

Sara nodded, "Yes, to both, but I decided to come up and apologize in person. Forgive me?" She smiled at him.

"Of course. Hey listen, you know that Gallo thing you were working on? I think I might have a new lead for you. I checked out some info on the Rialto theater. Turns out the seller is a guy by the name of Kenneth Irons. "

Sara�s eyebrows shot up.

"You know him?

"I know of him." Sara didn�t explain further. Let Jake think it was the guy�s money that was her sole reason for knowing that name. Nottingham�s face came unbidden into her mind. What was it about that guy? Why did she feel she should trust him when common sense would say otherwise? She touched the bracelet on her wrist, fingers brushing across its surface idly. She thought of the coffee and cookies that had been awaiting her this morning and smiled.

"What�s that for?"

"What�s what for?"

"That smile." Jake looked at her questioningly.

"Oh, nothing, was just thinking about someone."

"Irons?" Jake asked. Surely not. Sara and Irons?

Sara shook her head vehemently. "No, no, nothing about him. I was just thinking of the last person who mentioned him to me before you."

"His name has come up recently then?"

"Uh yeah, something about a charity benefit, " Sara lied.

"Oh. Well at any rate, I�m going to go ask him a few questions about Gallo . . . just see what I can turn up. Want to come along?" Jake asked. Was Sara seeing someone? There hadn�t been any office scuttlebutt about a boyfriend.

Sara eyed the stacks of folders piling up on her desk and then those on Jake�s. "No I think I�ll stay here and get caught up on some paperwork. I still have that report on the incident at the museum to put the finishing touches on."

Jake nodded. He still wondered how she had managed to take out Vespucci single-handedly. He rose from his desk and donned a jacket. "You going to be here most of the day?"

Sara pointed to the stacks of folders and made a face, "Yeah."

Jake laughed. Her old man might have been a White Bull and she might be as well, but her sense of humor cracked him up. "Allright then partner. I�ll call you when I get done with Irons."

She smiled at him. "Allright. You wearing your vest?"

"Of course." Jake smiled and waved at her before heading out of the small office they now shared.

Sara started in on the mountain of paper, attacking it with gusto.

Gallo picked up the phone in his limousine. He listened for a moment. "He what? The top of his head was blown off and the rifle was up his . . . She is gonna pay for this. Nothing is going to save that bitch now. Have Dino go pay her a visit."

Kenneth Irons� secretary looked up at the blond man standing in front of her desk. "Yes? May I help you?"

Jake flashed his badge and ID. "Detective Jake McCartey, NYPD. I�d like to see Mr. Kenneth Irons."

The secretary shook her head. "I�m sorry Detective, Mr. Irons isn�t in at present."

"Do you know when he will be?"

"Mr. Irons doesn�t keep a set schedule, Sir. Perhaps I could schedule an appointment for you?"

"No, that�s allright. I�ll try back later." Jake turned and walked back to the elevator.

Kenneth Irons turned his gaze back to the window, after hearing the entire exchange from the speaker on his desk. He wondered silently where Sara Pezzini was and why she had not come to visit him yet. He frowned slightly and watched a peregrine falcon dive after a smaller bird.

Sara�s phone rang, startling her. She�d been so engrossed in paperwork, she�d lost track of the time. She picked up the receiver, �Pezzini."

"Did you go by the bank this morning, Sara?"

"Yes as a matter of fact I did. And yes, I followed the instructions on the note."

"Good. You should hear from the broker in a few days." Ian smiled inwardly. Perhaps Vorschlag Industries would be helping Sara this time around. He remembered Mr. Irons comments on the stock perfectly from that other future. Sara was about to become wealthy in her own right if things stayed on track.

"Oh and Nottingham?"

"Yes, Sara?"

"Thank you for the cookies."

"My pleasure, Lady Sara." He hung up the phone and stared up at the window he knew to be her office. This was going well.

Sara stood and stretched. She walked out of the office to get another cup of coffee. She returned a moment later, cup in hand, and looked out her window just in time to see a figure in black walking away. She smiled in spite of herself.


Dino smiled as the lock on Sara�s apartment gave way with a click. He slid the lockpick into the pocket of his coat and looked up and down the hallway before slipping inside.

Part 8

A little bit past 4 p.m. found Sara finishing up the organization of the paperwork. The mounded piles of folders had been tamed into 3 medium-sized stacks. She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back, closing her eyes, her chair creaking.

"Hey Pez."

Sara�s eyes flew open as did her jaw. "Danny?! But you�re . . ."

"Dead? Yeah, I know." The apparition smiled.

"I knew paperwork would drive me over the edge some day, but I didn�t expect hallucinations so soon. Now I�m sitting here talking to myself. Just great."

"You�re not talking to yourself, Pez."

"Ok, fine. I�m talking to a hallucination. Is that better?" She laughed hollowly.

Danny smiled. "Listen Pez, I�ve got some things to tell you."

Sara looked up at the ghost, her eyes moist. "God Danny, I miss you."

"That bracelet you�re wearing, the Witchblade, has a lot of powers you don�t know about yet."

"I don�t know anything anymore, Danny. This guy, Nottingham, told me about a future that happened and didn�t . . . about who I could trust and couldn�t . . . about who I am and who I was . . . I�m trying like hell to make sense of it all, but . . . "

"Listen Sara, if you want to know more about who you are ask Joe Siri. There are a lot of things that I can�t tell you, but as far as Ian Nottingham goes, he is telling you the truth as he perceives it."

"As he perceives it? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Danny? How am I supposed to figure out what is true then?"

Danny chuckled, shaking his head. "Most of it he probably has right. I can tell you that there is one person he�s wrong about. And that there is one person you can trust."

Sara glanced towards the door and then back, "Who is he wrong . . . Danny? Danny?" Damn. He was gone. She stood and grabbed her jacket and helmet then headed out of the office.

Jake had spent the afternoon watching the Vorschlag building. No sign of Irons coming or going. Finally he gave up. Headed back to the station he passed Sara�s building and on a off chance, decided to see if she was home.

He parked in front of the building and began heading up the stairs, unaware that Sara had another visitor climbing the fire escape at the same moment, and yet another already in her apartment.

Part 9

Sara saw Jake�s car as soon as she pulled up. An indistinct hum at her wrist alerted her to danger, the Witchblade was glowing a fiery red. She raced up the stairs, catching up with Jake about halfway up.

"Hey Pez! Was just checking to see if you were home." Jake smiled what he hoped was a charming smile, holding out

Sara smiled, glancing down at her wrist, the bracelet�s eye was no longer active. "Well, here I am, " she laughed.

Jake held out one of the coffees, still grinning as they came to Sara�s door. Sara had her keys in one hand and helmet in the other, but Jake didn�t see the keys and let go of the cup thinking Sara had it. The hot coffee splashed over her.

"Shit!" Sara backed away quickly.

"Oh man, Pez, I�m sorry. I thought you had it. Here, give me the keys."
Sara handed Jake the keys and tried to wipe the coffee off herself as best she could. "It was an accident, no problem."

Jake unlocked the door and stepped in. The bullet hit him in the shoulder and propelled him backward into the wall. Hitting his head as he landed he tumbled into unconsciousness.

Sara dropped her helmet and brought up the Witchblade in its gauntlet form in one fluid motion, the blade extended. She deflected five more shots as they rang out, pinging loudly off the armor. Striding into the apartment, she glanced quickly at Jake, and then locked her gaze on the shooter.

Dino backed up a little with each shot he fired, slack jawed with amazement that not one of the bullets he fired had hit Pezzini. He turned to run toward the window, but the imposing figure of Ian Nottingham blocked his way. "What the . . . ?"

Sara lunged, impaling Dino on the Witchblade�s sword. He crumpled to the floor, leaving a spreading crimson stain. Sara looked up and met Ian�s gaze briefly, before turning to tend to Jake. She grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and called the shooting in.

Sara looked up fully expecting Nottingham to be gone, but he stood by the body of the shooter, legs stanced apart and head down. "For once Nottingham, I�m glad you aren�t they type to use the front door. I really should get you a key though before you wear out the lock on my window by picking it."

"How is he?"

"He�ll be ok, it�s just a flesh wound. He should come around soon, probably has a mild concussion."

Ian nodded. "I should be leaving."

"I�m going to have some explaining to do. This guy looks like a ginsu commercial."

Ian knelt and removed a concealed ankle sheath from his leg. He moved to Sara and with his gloved fingers barely brushing her strapped the sheath to her ankle. He withdrew the boot knife from the holster and plunged it into the gaping wound in the hitman�s chest before turning the blade and handing it to Sara, handle first. She gripped it, putting her fingerprints on the handle and then laid it beside the body on the floor.

Jake moaned and began to stir.

"Quick, before he wakes up." Sara nodded to the window. "And Nottingham, thank you." She leaned close to the dark-haired man and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Ian inhaled sharply as Sara kissed him, his body tensing. With a quick look to Sara, he turned and left via the fire escape.

Sara smiled, staring at the curtains billowing in the breeze. Damn, I think he was blushing. She returned her attention to Jake and waited for the EMTs to arrive.

Kenneth Irons looked up as Ian approached.

"She has passed the periculum."

Irons stood, "What!? Are you certain?"

Ian stood, head bowed. "Yes."

Irons slowly turned and sank into his chair. "I am . . . disappointed. I expected to . . . feel . . .something. She had bonded with the Witchblade, yet she has not even contacted me yet." He paused. "How odd."

Ian stood silently, eyes downcast.

"Leave now."

Without a sound, Ian was gone.

Irons sat, fingers steepled together, his brow creased with frustration.

Sara watched as Jake was loaded into the amulance and then turned to go back into her building. She stopped at her mailbox and lifted out the contents. Bill, bill, bill, bill, wait, no, not a bill . . . earnings statement enclosed. She eagerly ripped open the envelope. Holy shit. She grabbed her cellphone and hit a speed dial number.

"Hello."

"Nottingham, it�s me Sara. Listen there is an earnings statement here. That money I invested for . . ."

"I know, Lady Sara. The money is yours."

"No Nottingham, I invested it for you."

"Then hold on to it for me, but use it should the need arise."

"Aren�t you in the least curious as to how much it is?"

"No, I am only concerned with your safety, Sara."

"Listen Nottingham, I . . . " Sara stopped mid-sentence as she realized she was speaking to a dial tone. She flipped the phone shut and climbed the stairs. That man was the most . . .she couldn�t even finish the thought, there was just not a word for him.

Sara sat at her kitchen table, waiting for her apartment to empty. They had already carted away the shooter, but there were still some people milling about. Joe Siri was among them.

"Sara, I want you to take some vacation time."

"I�ll be fine, Joe." She smiled at the elderly man.

"I�m serious, Sara. Gallo is gunning for you. No need to be a sitting duck."

"Really Joe, I�ll be allright. Gallo isn�t going to try again right away."

"Sara, do I have to make it an order? I want you out of town for a week at least. Go rest. Grieve more. Find your bearings."

"How can I find my bearings when I . . . Joe? Who am I?"

The question startled the older man, clearly. "What do you mean, Sara?"

"Joe, you�ve been like a father to me. Now please just answer me."

Joe sighed. After a long pause he said, "You were adopted, Sara."
Sara started to speak but nothing came out. She shook her head, disbelieving.

"It�s true. Your parents were going to tell you, but after your mother died . . . " his voice trailed off.

"Geez Joe, any other things you�ve been keeping from me?"

Joe frowned, looking at the floor. He looked up and glanced around the room. Seeing that no one was within earshot he said, "There is something I should tell you about Sara. But this is neither the time nor place."

"I�m hearing that line a lot lately." Sara stood and stretched. "I�m going to go sit outside a while. I need some fresh air, some time to think."

Joe nodded.

Out on the fire escape Sara sat looking at her phone, her finger hovering over the speed dial. If she was going to be forced to take a week off she didn�t want to be alone.