The Report – Part 5
By Kat
Sara dashed off into the night unsure of what was chasing her, only knowing that something propelled her out of Jake’s bed, needing to be alone. She walked the streets around his apartment sorting through the images that had raced through her mind moments before she awoke in his arms.
What a night, she thought. I find out that my partner’s in love with me and that there’s a chance the love is reciprocated … She cut off that thought, not wanting to go down that road given the images she saw. What does it mean to see Jake in priest’s garb? This is the second time that image has sprung to mind. Why was Nottingham so confused when I said I knew about Jake? It’s almost like he was expecting another reaction from me. What’s going on?
She turned a corner and ran into the mystery man himself. "Nottingham! Would you quit that!" she exclaimed. "You could find yourself in the hospital that way."
Nottingham almost smiled, but managed to contain his mirth. "I knew you were out here and I wanted to offer my assistance, Lady Sara."
"Assistance? With what? All you seem to offer is more confusion and tidbits of misery. I think I’ve had enough of your ‘help’."
"Sara," he started, "I mean you no harm."
"Then quit following me around and offering cryptic advice," she sneered. "You’ve yet to answer a simple question with a simple answer. All I ever get is replies that leave me more confused than I was before."
"I will do anything for you, Sara," he replied. "Just ask."
"Fine. I won’t bother with the tough questions, like why am I the wielder, but something a little more basic," she said. "What the heck is going on between you and Jake?"
Ian looked intently into her eyes and almost visibly adjusted his shoulders for the answer.
"There is not much to tell," he started.
"But?" she asked.
"It is simple. He is your enemy and I will do everything I can to protect you from him."
"My enemy? What are you talking about?" she cried.
"He wants only to control the Witchblade. He will bring pain and destruction to your world."
"Excuse me? Are we talking about the same man?" she asked. "He’s my partner. He’s watched my back and saved my life."
"That is beside the point," he countered. "He is not what he seems."
"I know. He’s a Fed."
"That is not all."
"What else, then?" she asked.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Of course. What’s going on?" she said excitedly.
"Jake McCartey is a member of the Order of Sudonera."
"Which is?" she prompted.
"A branch of the Vatican," he replied.
"You’re telling me, my partner, is a priest?" she exclaimed.
Nottingham nodded his head once and continued to hold her eyes with his. Sara tried to turn away, but couldn’t release herself from the man in front of her. It was as if he was looking inside her mind and pulling images from them for both to view.
Images of Jake in priest’s garb, holding a knife and sword; fumbling in the dark before their lovemaking; quick phone calls that she inadvertently interrupted; the guilty look on his face during his confession the night before. The final image was of a man, from years ago, holding her in his embrace while he killed her.
Nottingham’s gaze never wavered from hers. He stood stalwart and steady while she reeled with the knowledge that her world, once again, was askew. The question was now, what to do about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Jake got up slowly from the now vacant bed. The warmth of their passion was quickly cooling on the sheets and he felt like that was happening to his soul as well. He was very worried about why Sara left so quickly and what was going through her mind right now.
He made his way to the bathroom and showered, feeling like he was washing away everything pure and special about last night. He had a bad feeling that it would be a very long time before he’d share another night like that with Sara … if ever.
After getting dressed Jake picked up the phone, punched in some numbers and when the phone was answered, he merely said, "I need you." He hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket and keys and left.
Twenty minutes later he stood at Nadine’s doorstep uncertain about what he was going to say or do, but knowing it couldn’t wait. Even before he knocked, the door was opened and he entered. They headed to the kitchen without saying a word, knowing that caffeine was going to be needed to get through this early morning session.
Steaming cup of coffee in hand, Nadine said, "Ok, ‘fess up."
Jake rolls the cup around on the table between his hands, preparing himself for the inevitable questions. "I think she knows."
"Knows what?"
"About me."
"How?" she asked.
Jake blushed. Not much, but enough for the woman across the table to know this was big and very important.
"Oh," she said. "Did you tell her before or after?"
"I didn’t. She just knew," he said. "The Witchblade did its thing and she looked at me with such horror in her eyes, then she left. I don’t know what to do."
"I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?" she chided, taking a swallow of her coffee. The bell on the stove went off and she took out some homemade scones from the oven. "Give it a few minutes and we’ll be able to feed the tummy as well as our souls."
"Now, back to your dilemma," she said. "You’ve certainly made a mess of things, Jake."
"I know, Nad," he replied. "I didn’t mean to let things go that far. It wasn’t planned."
"They never are, Jake. That’s why they call it ‘passion’ and not ‘carrots’."
He looked up, startled by her comparison. "You are an odd one, Nad. But I’m glad you’re here."
"You may not be when I’m done with you," she replied. "You’ve put this whole operation at risk for a little nooky." She held up her hand to stop his retort, "I know you think it’s love, but right now, that’s not the point. The point is that you really screwed up and now we’re going to have a helluva time fixing it, if it’s even possible."
"I’m sorry, Nad. I never meant for this to happen," Jake said, hanging his head in shame. "I just had to tell her how I felt. It was too big to be kept to myself any longer. It was getting in the way of my job, all of them."
"Then maybe you should have pulled yourself out of this detail. Maybe you should have stopped yourself from acting on those feelings," she retorted. "But that’s all water under the bridge. We can’t turn back time and undo what you’ve done, but we can try and halt the damage it’ll wreck on everything we’ve worked for."
"How?"
"First off, you need to stay away from her for the time being. If the Witchblade gave her hints into your true identity, then there’s nothing you can do to regain her trust for now. She’ll be too wary to believe anything you say, truth or fiction, she’ll think you’re lying."
Jake nodded in understanding.
"Secondly, you and I are going to have to come up with some explanation to our bosses as to why you’re not actively following Sara Pezzini. THAT will be the hardest of the two for me, but I think the easiest for you." She reached for the scones and put a few on a plate on the table. "Eat, you’ll need your strength for the things to come."
Jake took a scone and slowly chewed on an edge. It tasted like sawdust, but he chalked it up to his emotional state than Nadine’s cooking. Usually her meals were things the gods would crave.
"Nad?" he asked. "What are we going to tell the higher ups?"
"I’m not sure, Jake. You’ve made a fine mess and it’ll take more than your creative writing class to get us, ahem, you, out of it," she stated. "I’m going to head up and take a shower. Finish your breakfast and I’ll be back in a few. Do a little brainstorming and see if you can come up with something plausible."
She left him to his thoughts and headed upstairs.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sara finally broke the link with Ian. Her thoughts in turmoil, she turned and walked away. Nottingham left her to herself, keeping watch, but not staying at her side. He knew she had a lot of thinking to do and a lot of issues to work through.
Her circuitous path brought her eventually to Gabriel’s door. It was early, but she knocked anyway. A few minutes later he answered the door.
"Hey," he said wearily. "Did you bring coffee?"
"Right here," she said, offering the cup of steaming brew.
"Come in then," he replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this wake-up call?"
"I need some information."
"About?"
"Jake McCartey."
"I knew he was no good," he said gleefully. "Finally saw the light, huh, Sara?"
"It’s not like that, Gabe," she replied. "I just need some information. That’s all."
"That’s never ‘all’ with you, Sara. What’s up?"
"Just get on your computer and do some looking. I need to sit down for a minute," she said as she collapsed on the couch.
"What exactly am I looking for?" he asked.
"I need to know everything you can find about Jake McCartey’s background. Everything that is known, officially and unofficially."
"Can do." And with that, he got to work.
Sara curled up on the couch and slipped into a Witchblade induced slumber. Her dreams were very vivid and somewhat disturbing.
A battle raged on a field. In the midst of it, two warriors stood side-by-side fighting off the enemy before them. They worked in such harmony, that they appeared to be one spirit in two bodies. They never needed to speak to know what the other was doing. The enemy never had a chance when faced with these two.
After the battle was done, they retreated to their tent and stripped out of their thick leather vests and down to the lightweight tunics and braccae underneath.
"Here, my love," he said, "let me help you with that." Kissing the nape of her neck while removing the ties that bound the sides of her vest together. She turned in his arms to facilitate the undressing and returned the favor while she removed his vest.
"You are my life," she said. "Who knew I’d be so favored as to find you."
"The goddess gave me to you, same as she gave you the blade. We are but servants for her divine will," he replied.
"You sound so sure," she said.
"I am. Otherwise I would not be here in your arms."
"Thank the Goddess for that," she sighed.
Hours later, a voice hailed from outside the tent. "Conchobar, you are wanted at the council."
"Aye, I shall be there momentarily," he said. "Sleep, my love, I shan’t be but a short while."
"Nay, I shall join you. This concerns us all," she said, getting dressed.
They arrived at the council meeting hand-in-hand. The elders sat around the fire cleaning their swords and polishing their knives. "Conchobar, thank you for attending us," Liam said. "Please sit," he motioned towards a pile of furs. "Cathain, welcome."
"Thank you," she replied. "To what do we owe the honor of this meeting?"
Liam looked around the tent, receiving nods of the others he said, "We need discuss your future with the clan. Both you and Conchobar have distinguished yourself in battle. You have brought honor to our people." Both nodded their heads in acknowledgement.
"There are, however, a few things to understand before any decisions can be made."
"What things?" Conchobar asked.
Liam cleared his throat, then said, "Cathain’s ability to survive anything in battle."
"What is to understand? She is blessed by the Goddess. She is one with the Earth. What more do you need?" Conchobar asked with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Conchobar, calm yourself, my friend," Liam stated. "It is not for you to be agitated about this. Your place is secure."
Placing a hand on Conchubar’s arm, Cathain asked, "Then what is the question, my liege?"
"We do not ask this, he does," he said, pointing to a man dressed in black robes. All heads turned to view the man who had the future of Cathain’s life in his hands.
"And who might this be?" she asked.
"Father Jacobi," Liam answered. "He comes to us from Rome. He has learned of your talents with the sword and your ability to survive that which most men would die. He wishes to understand."
"Ask your questions, Father," she said. "I am not afraid of you."
The dream changed again. This time she was in armor that rubbed her skin raw. The man at her side was once again, the one that lived forever beside her, but somehow, this time, he was different.
"Jean, slow down," he said. "I cannot keep up this pace you have set for us."
"Then get yourself a horse," she laughed.
"My love, slow down!" he insisted. "We must talk."
"About what?" she asked.
"About what the Church is going to do with you," he replied.
"They can do nothing to me. I have done nothing wrong," she answered.
"Be that as it may, they will still destroy you. You defy them at every turn. You deny them access to that which makes them salivate. You refuse to comply with their orders."
"Because they are wrong. I follow the will of God, not the Church. It is for Him to tell me what to do, not a bunch of old men in dusty robes," she taunted.
"I agree with you, my love, but I must insist that you at least listen to me. It is my goal to keep you alive AND free."
"Free to do what?" she asked. "To do the bidding of these old men? To be less than I am simply because they wish it? I cannot. I will not. They are wrong and must change their minds."
"Jean, they have the power of the Church behind them. They have too much to say on the issue for you to continue to be defiant," he begged. "Please do not do this. I cannot save you, if you will not grant me some small token of obeisance to the Church."
"What token do you wish, Luc? My soul?"
"Not that, never that!" he exclaimed. "Merely the removal of the blade. Let them have it. They’ll take it anyway … when you’re dead."
"I cannot and you know that. It is my sacred duty to protect the blade and to do the bidding of the Lord with its power."
"Then there is nothing I can do for you," he sighed. "I cannot see you die in a pyre because of stubbornness. Can you not give just this once? Can you not choose to live?"
"Luc, you know I cannot. Please do not ask again," she said imperiously. "I do not know why this matter so to you."
"Because I love you more than my own life. Because I’ve already broken my vows of chastity to the Church because of that love. Because they demand I betray you so they can kill you," he said with much anguish.
"Luc," she said, "I know that which you have given up for me. I wish I could do the same, but I cannot. Only God himself can make me alter my course. Only God can undo the things I have done." She crossed to him, enveloping him in her arms. They stood like this for a long time, just cradling the love they shared. Knowing it wouldn’t last.
"I love you too," she whispered. Voices came from around the corner and suddenly the Church’s soldiers were upon them, wrenching her from his arms. The last thing she saw was a tear rolling down his face.
Sara awoke to Gabriel’s face leaning over her. "Sara, you okay?"
"I’m fine," she said, getting up from the couch and straightening her clothes. "Did you find anything?"
This story ©copyright Kat, June 11, 2002