The Keepers
By Elizabeth
Part 27

A flash of ivory. Red, wet and warm. A screech that 
pierced his soul as the knife had pierced his heart. 
 
Paul fell to the ground, enveloped in pain as the 
metal of the blade burned into his flesh. He knew it 
shouldn't hurt this bad...no blade forged could kill 
him. 
 
So why did he feel his life ebbing away as his wounds 
refused to stop bleeding? 
 
Amidst the sounds of noise and chaos, he fought to 
reach up with one hand. The knife...it was still 
buried in his chest. He had to get it out. 
 
He had to live. 
 
His fingers curled weakly around the handle as the 
noise came to a sudden halt. 
 
Out of nowhere, a large snowy bird alighted on his 
stomach. 
 
"Crystal?" Paul gasped, coughing wetly as blood surged 
past his lips, trickling down one cheek. 
 
"Crystal calls for help." the bird assured him gently, 
bending to prod at the blade with her beak. "Bearer 
must hurry." 
 
Paul's head fell back. "Can't...tell Mike...I'm 
sorry..." 
 
"Bearer must hurry!" Crystal repeated urgently, 
fluffing her feathers in agitation. "Must live!" 
 
Paul's eyes fluttered closed, his muscles relaxing as 
the life left his body. 
 
Then his breath caught, eyes springing wide open as he 
heard the Sebrus begin to sing. 
 
********** 
 
Mike entered the police station aprehensively, tailing 
Gene through the door. "I can't believe I let you talk 
me into this." 
 
"You deserve to have your life back, Mike. Besides, we 
need you to stay close and the only way to do that is 
to take you on tour with us. We can't hire you if 
you're legally dead." 
 
He sighed, nervously running a hand through his hair. 
"Yeah, yeah, I know...but I just...I don't know if I'm 
ready to face everyone again." 
 
"You faced Moe rather well." 
 
"Yeah, well, that was different. And don't even think 
about bringing up Jimmy, either." Mike reprimanded, 
cutting off Gene as he opened his mouth to speak. 
"That's a whole 'nother ballgame that you don't EVEN 
want to start playing with me." 
 
Gene grinned. "Furthest thing from my mind. Now which 
way to Paranormal Crimes? We have a death certificate 
to revoke." 
 
"Down this hall on the right...and fuck you. You're a 
natural born antagonist, Simmons." 
 
"Moi?" Gene asked innocently as the two men began to 
walk. 
 
"Yeah, you...all Dracon demons are. That IS the orgin 
of your User abilities, am I right?" 
 
Gene threw his head back and laughed. "You've got me 
over a barrel, Michael...how did you know my roots 
were Dracon?" 
 
"It's the only dragon-formed demon race I know 
of...and with that fire-breathing shit? You GOTTA be 
part dragon." 
 
"You're a perceptive young man...I see why you made 
the decision to go into police work. Have you 
considered life as a private investigator?" 
 
"A little...but like you said, you need me close. 
Bodyguard for a platinum-selling rock band will have 
to do. It's a thought for after you guys tour, 
though." 
 
Gene clapped him on the back as they reached the door 
to the Paranormal Crimes Unit. "It is indeed. So...are 
you ready to be brought back to life? Legally, 
anyway." 
 
Mike just rolled his eyes in amusement, shaking his 
head. "It's gonna be a bitch to suspend my death 
certificate...we're talking bureaucratc bullshit every 
step of the way. It would be a lot easier just to buy 
myself a driver's license and social security card on 
the black market." 
 
"You have a ready and waiting identity right 
here...and you have a lot of money backing you up. I 
believe that's a major motivator among your people, 
right? You'll breeze right through." 
 
"You got us humans pegged pretty good, Demon Lord." 
Mike chuckled. As he did, his body stilled, the smile 
on his face slowly dissolving. 
 
"Mike?" Gene asked uncertainly. "What's going on?" 
 
"Take my hand." Mike said softly. "We're out of here." 
 
As Mike extended a hand to Gene, the other man slowly 
threaded his fingers through Mike's. "Would you mind 
explaining to me-" 
 
A flash of white obscured his vision before he could 
finish his demand. 
 
********** 
 
It was a sound filled with things Paul had never even 
seen, not as a god or a man. It was hope and longing, 
it was sunrises and blood red roses vibrant with 
delicate beauty. Every friend and lover Stanley Einsen 
ever had was conjured up in a single shining image, 
every pleasure and power The Soulbearer had ever known 
washed over him in an instant. The man in him knew 
what it was to live, the god knew what life meant in 
total, but neither of them could have anticipated the 
truth and wonder of both aspects embodied in a single, 
glorious sound that wrapped around the soul and 
squeezed. 
 
The pain of his dying body was fading in the sweet 
agony that pervaded his very spirit. 
 
He was dimly aware of a form leaning over him, a hand 
clutching his. Metal slid away from his flesh, a voice 
called to him. 
 
All at once the song stopped, leaving him bereft and 
cold, haunted by the magnitude of what he'd heard. 
 
His isolation slowly faded in the blinding heat of 
physical suffering that began to seep back into his 
consciousness. His body burned as it mended...yes, 
mended. 
 
He'd been stabbed. 
 
"Paul! Jesus Christ, please say something! PAUL!!" 
 
Paul finally coughed, hacking violently as he felt 
himself lifted into a sitting position. A familiar 
grip, the warmth of hellfire...Gene. 
 
"Brother...are you all right?" Gene asked, eyes filled 
with concern. 
 
Paul coughed up a mouthful of blood into one hand in 
response. 
 
"Shit," Mike breathed, "should we get a doctor?" 
 
"No." Gene assured him. ". The wound is healing...it's 
just going to take time until we can get him back to 
Julia." 
 
Crystal, from her perch on Mike's shoulder, hopped 
down to settle on Paul's thigh. 
 
"Crystal make it better." she said gently, moving 
close enough to lay her head against the god's chest. 
 
"What's she doing?" Gene asked. 
 
Mike smiled, reaching out to stroke the bird's head 
softly. "Look." 
 
Gene watched as the bird began to weep, tears like 
glittering diamonds falling from it's cold blue eyes 
to dampen Paul's wound. 
 
"I thought only a phoenix could heal with its tears." 
Gene asked. 
 
Mike shook his head. "Rhea says the Sebrus is a 
distant relation to the phoenix...their tears freeze 
once shed upon the ground, but on living flesh they 
have a small amount of healing power. That's one of 
the reasons these birds are hunted...Snow Raven Tears 
have a higher value than even diamonds." 
 
Gene shook his head in amazement as Crystal continued 
to saturate The Soulbearer's skin with her tears for 
several minutes. 
 
"How?" Paul finally croaked, resting one hand lightly 
on the bird's back. 
 
"Crystal started singing." Mike explained. "I could 
hear it...in my head. I think that's what she 
intended. I knew one of you were in trouble. I grabbed 
Gene and teleported to her...when we got here, she was 
sitting on your stomach, singing." 
 
"I was dying." Paul remembered with a shiver. 
 
"You WERE dead...physically, anyway." Mike told him. 
"Your soul stayed put, thoug...weird." 
 
"Not really." Gene told him. "Sebrus? Voice Of The 
Dead? Crystal's song kept him alive." 
 
Paul looked down at the bird, stroking her feathers 
gently as he smiled. "You saved my life...AND the 
human race, little one." 
 
"Crystal good girl." she replied, never moving away 
from the injured god. "Crystal help Mikey...saved 
Bearer." 
 
After several more minutes, Crystal's tears had healed 
Paul's wound considerably, making him able to stand. 
Gene held Paul upright while Mike gave the surrounding 
area a cursory inspection before they walked to Paul's 
car a short distance away. 
 
"Who was it that stabbed you?" Mike asked, taking the 
keys to Paul's car as they hopped in and drove off. 
 
"I didn't really see him." Paul admitted from the 
backseat. "It was a quick job...calculated. Someone 
knew where I was going to be, and knew I was 
vulnerable." 
 
"Could it have been a random thing?" Gene asked. "This 
isn't the best part of town." 
 
Paul shook his head. "I remember power and a masculine 
build...it was a man, and it was either a User or a 
Sensitive." 
 
Gene glanced at Mike. "You still have that blade?" 
 
Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife, 
wrapped in a hankerchief. "You're talking to an ex-
cop, remember? I looked at the scene...just like Paul 
said. Footprints show the attacker was standing just 
around the corner, stepped out, lunged, and ran." 
 
"He came at me when he put that blade in my chest." 
Paul informed him. 
 
"Did you see anything, Crystal?" Mike asked the bird, 
who was perched on Paul's leg. 
 
"Crystal saw bad man." she replied, talons lightly 
plucking at Paul's pants leg fretfully. "Very bad 
man." 
 
"What did he do?" 
 
"Crystal flew, saw things. Saw bad man hurt Paul." 
Startling everyone, she suddenly spread her winds and 
fluttered up to the front of the car, perching on the 
seat between Gene and Mike. Blue eyes stared up at him 
with something akin to fear. "Scary, Mikey." 
 
He felt a dull ache of sympathy for the animal, 
offering her his hand as he steered with the other, 
eyes on the road. "I'm sorry, baby." 
 
Crystal nipped at his fingers, then contented to 
settle down beside him, snuggling as close as she 
could. Mike found the feel of her feathered warmth 
pressed against his thigh reassuring and knew she felt 
the same. 
 
"I'll talk to Crystal later." Mike announced. "Once we 
figure out who tried to kill Paul, we can figure out 
why. Until then, all four of you are not to go 
anywhere without a Guardian. Got me? Keepers, too." 
Mike sighed, letting his head fall back against the 
seat as he came to a red light. "Fuck, three of us and 
eight of you to keep safe...what the hell was Fate 
thinking?" 
 
"That you could handle it." Paul quipped from the 
backseat. 
 
"You all are enough to give Mother Theresa gray hair." 
Mike growled good-naturedly. 
 
"Bearer be nice to Mikey." Crystal ordered, soft voice 
disdainful. "Mikey do good job...Bearer makes trouble 
for fun." 
 
"She's got a point, Paul." Gene grinned over his 
shoulder. 
 
"Just get me home." Paul grumbled. "I'm an injured 
man." 
 
Crystal gave an audible little huff. "Silly 
Bearer...silly Dragon." 
 
"Amen, little darlin'." Mike laughed as they drove off 
into the night. 
 
********** 
 
Jim walked into the area of the corpse, keeping his 
senses aware of everything and his eyes open for any 
clues. He continued to feel the raw, preternatural 
pulse of mystic energy rubbing over his skin like 
silken fur. 
 
"The energy's stronger...definitely shifter." Jim 
murmured to Gabriel. "Potent stuff...alpha." 
 
"Your reading?" 
 
"My opinion. Only an alpha that lost control would 
give off this kinda echo." 
 
Jim approached the sheet-draped corpse, kneeling down 
beside it. The entire body was covered save for the 
left arm. Jim took in the sight, evaluating the single 
exposed limb for details. 
 
"Gloves off." he warned Gabriel and Julia standing 
nearby. 
 
"We got all our prints." Gabriel told him. 
 
Jim nodded. "Okay...here we go, ladies and germs." 
Shucking off the latex gloves he was wearing, Jim 
reached out and gently cradled the corpse's hand in 
both of his, closing his eyes and clearing his mind 
with a practiced calm that had taken five years to 
hone. 
 
He was immediately assaulted by the scent of pine and 
musk, the feel of his body breaking and rebuilding 
into something greater, more powerful...a howl of 
primal joy escaped his lips... 
 
//Tall, dark woman...knife glinting in the dull 
moonlight...pain, he'd been stabbed...silver...a rush 
of energy, black and bottomless, noxious feel of evil 
and complete corruption...// 
 
//Endless rage, thoughts of vengeance...lowly bitch 
challenges MY authority, I'll kill her!...ally with 
darkness, never good...rage...my clan will prevail...I 
am pack...// 
 
//Chained down...abandoned building...scent of salt 
and rust, moist air thick against skin...bleeding life 
away into a vial, draining blood like a 
vampire...throat slit, can't breathe...// 
 
Jim felt the rushing void of death, his cue to pull 
away. He drew himself out of his reverie, carefully 
untangling his power from the eddies and currents of 
energy surrounding the corpse. 
 
"Male lycanthrope, alpha wolf." Jim rattled off, eyes 
opening as he rocked back on his heels and stared at 
the body. "Knife wound to the throat with a silver 
blade, cause of death was exsangrination...blood 
loss." 
 
"Got it in one." Julia confirmed briskly. "Suspect a 
hunting knife of some kind." 
 
"Bowie knife." Jim confirmed. "Has to be a custom job 
to have a silver blade...put a call in to high-end 
cutlery retailers. Reading confirms those tracks CSU 
found...perp was female...lycanthrope, won't know the 
flavor or level until I read the area. Dumped body in 
human form, snuck away unseen by shifting." 
 
"Anything else?" 
 
"Victim had a stab wound...thinking to the back, also 
silver. Shifted in self-defense, wound with silver 
forced him back into human form. The crime scene was 
an abandoned building, check docks and beachfront 
property. Perp's also got a thing for death 
magick...the moment of death came on to quickly, it 
interfered with my reading." 
 
Gabriel frowned. "How much?" 
 
"Not as much as they were hoping...you can hook me up 
with a sketch artist to get your perp, I got a solid 
look at her. I can't get much more, though, not 
without an animator or Necromancer for backup. I read 
past the death, I'm risking posession." 
 
"We'll get on it." 
 
Jim grinned. "So...how'd I do?" 
 
Gabriel nodded. "Spectacular...as usual. Julia said it 
best...got it in one. I'll show you the evidence soon 
as we got it all run for prints...gimme a day?" 
 
"Done." Jim agreed gratefully, rising to his feet. As 
Gabriel walked off to speak with his partner, Jim 
strolled over to a nearby tree where Ruby hung 
waiting. 
 
"Hey, baby," Jim crooned, "you doin' okay?" 
 
MY JIM!!! I MISSED YOU! The snake said silently, 
gratefully curling around Jim's wrist. 
 
Jim lifted her to his lips and gently kissed her head. 
"Missed you too, sweetness. Time to go home." 
 
NOT GO HOME YET, MY JIM. YOUR JULIA...SHE'S SCARED. 
 
Jim frowned pensively. Idly wrapping the serpent 
around his neck, he walked back over to her. 
 
"Jules?" he called out. "You all right?" 
 
"Not really, Jim." she replied softly. "Do me a 
favor...take a look at the stiff." 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Just do it." 
 
Jim shrugged, kneeling back down and pulling back the 
sheet over the corpse.  On the exposed shoulder of the 
dead man was a circular tattoo, containing a set of 
two silver sunbursts connected by an arc. 
 
THE STARMAN. Ruby whispered to him. THE STARMAN IS ON 
HIS SKIN. 
 
"That's no KISS tattoo." Jim surmised, glancing up at 
Julia. 
 
"Not by a longshot...so what's it mean?" Julia asked. 
 
Jim dropped the sheet back into place and stood. "It 
means we head over to Ben's place...ask Ace."