Legacy

Chapter 3

by Lark

e-mail: <a href="/py/wmailCompose.py?Pyt=TWmail&[email protected]&FormId=,232,5FBAE78,3E84702,6031400F">[email protected]</a>

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Disclaimer: Don’t own Mag7. Not getting paid.

Characters created by author belong to author.

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Well, this was the right street. Assuming

Wilkes—his former tail and now his informant—had told him the truth.

Chris could take care of himself. Besides, Alice

Williams was in Seattle. No need to go to L.A. when there was

another hit in the same town he was in.

There she was; He frowned. She couldn’t be more

than sixteen, maybe seventeen. What the hell was a little girl like

that doing, working the streets? Of course, he already knew the

answer to that one, he’d seen it plenty of other times. Convinced she had

no place to go, no better way to survive. Fortunately for her, he

had a place for her to go all ready.

Right now, he just had to get her to come with

him.

He frowned when he saw the man she was coming

onto now. There was something about him…in the eyes…it reminded him

of Wilkes. He watched the two go through a door in the alley.

He was NOT going to eavesdrop on that. He wasn’t. Under no

circumstances whatsoever. It didn’t matter that she was barely more

than a baby. It didn’t matter that…to hell with it.

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Hart rolled with the blast. Damn, that had been his rental. He

called for Standish, but didn’t get an answer. It was doubtful he had

survived, close as he had been to the vehicle when it had exploded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone headed for the stairwell.

If he was still alive, Standish would have to wait, because this guy

had some talking to do if he wanted to stay in one piece.

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Well, at least it had been the right decision. The man had been

holding a dagger to the young prostitute’s throat when he had opened

the door, and was now using the girl as a shield. "What the hell are you doing here Larabee?"

"Well, at least you aren’t going to pretend that

you don’t know who I am."

"Now what would be the point of that?"

"Your friend Wilkes thought that It would work."

"Wilkes was an idiot."

"Is. And good point. How about letting the girl go so we can take

care of this properly?"

"Now, if I did that, you’d shoot me. Speaking

of which…" He indicated that Travis should put the gun down

Slowly and grudgingly, he complied, then moved away from it. "And who

says Travis Larabee can’t be agreeable?" So, how much did Wilkes

tell you?"

"Few names. This address. No why."

"Good."

"Care to fill in the blanks?"

"Now why would I do a thing like that?"

Travis shrugged. "I’m curious. And—as far as

you’re concerned—I’ll be dead anyway."

"Good poi—AOWH!!"

He threw the girl—who had just bitten his hand—away from him and onto

Travis." Travis thrust her away from him and dove for his gun at the

same time as the other man. They struggled, grappling for control of

the gun. Travis turned the nozzle towards his opponent just as the

other man pulled the trigger. He pushed the other man off of him and saw Alice

headed for the door.

"Hey! Get back here!" He caught her arm just

outside the room and pulled her back inside.

"Let go!" She kicked him in the shin.

"Ooowh! I’m trying to help kid!"

"Then let go!" She kicked at him again, but he

managed to sidestep it that time.

"WILL YOU STOP THAT AND LISTEN TO ME!!!!" She

stopped. "Good girl.

Thank you. Now listen That guy was working for

someone. He was supposed to kill you. Just because he failed

doesn’t mean that you’re safe."

"Who would—"

"I haven’t figured that part out yet." He

glanced at the dead man. No help there. "Listen, I have a place that you

can stay at, it should be safe for you there, at least until—"

Her brown eyes widened. "What? What is—"

"Lark!"

"What?"

"I have to get to her!"

"Is this a bird?"

"No!" She tried to pull her arm free again.

"Look, calm down and—"

"She’s my daughter!!" Her what?

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Eli groaned, feeling the healing magic that coursed through his body

do its work. Gods, but it was painful. Painful…but lifesaving.

Without it, the blast would have killed him. He eased himself into a

sitting position. He had seen Tanner, no doubt assuming his demise,

follow the shooter. It would be easy, he mused. Tanner would know no

better. Neither would the shooter. And it would be in his best

interest to walk away. Well, hobble. For another minute or two at

least.

He thought about it for a moment.

Gods, but he hated morals, he truly did.

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"Get back here." Alice looked at the man grasping her arm crossly.

"What?"

"We don’t know if it’s safe."

"But I live—"

"Exactly. They knew where you…worked…so they probably know where you live to."

"You said you’d save my baby." He let go of her arm

"And I will. But we can’t go in there without—"

"I’m getting my baby. Period." She stood up and went inside before

he could stop her."

"Great." Travis muttered. "Just great."

"Alice? What are you doing h—" The man—Alice’s pimp—stopped when he

saw Travis. "Who the hell is this?"

"This is…uhm…Travis. He’s going to watch Lark for a few days."

The pimp’s eyes narrowed. "And why do you want the brat gone?"

"No reason, he’s just—"

He raised his hand. "If you’re about to cause me any trouble—"

Travis grabbed the man’s wrist hard enough to make him cry out in pain.

"Don’t touch her. Ever." He looked down at Alice. "Where’s your kid?"

"That is something I would like to know as well."

All three turned to the doorway. The man was nearly six and a half

feet tall. He was young, not much over than twenty. His size and

youth, however, weren’t what made his appearance unique. His

skin was nearly gold in color, and his hair seemed to be made of silver.

"Who—"

"Ah, yes, I suppose I should introduce myself.

One should always know the identity of the one who sends one to his

maker." The pimp broke free from Travis and moved to stand in front of

the golden man.

"Do that and get out. And take him w—"

The gold man covered the pimp’s face with his hand.

"Little man, do you have any idea how vastly unimportant you are?"

His eyes narrowed and his hand tightened around the other man’s face.

"No, you don’t, do you? Ah, well…no great loss." Smoke seemed to come from the man’s hand. The pimp—to his

credit—didn’t scream. Perhaps he couldn’t. But Alice did as he fell

to the ground, his disfigured face turned toward them. Travis pushed

her behind him.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. My name is Brion. Some feel the need to

add Traitorson to that. And I have quite an interest in your child,

young lady."

"You…I…Lark…"

"Alice, get your kid and get out."

"But—"

"GO!"

Brion watched Alice leave. "Ah, that’s where she

is. He turned back to Travis, who had his gun trained on him. "You

cannot possibly be serious."