See Part One for Disclaimers

Cheri returned to Jonathan's home to find it empty.  There was something about the emptiness that told her he had done more than just step out for a moment.  She was frowning at the dark house when Ski arrived.

"You."

She looked at him in surprise.  "Jablonski?"

"Yeah.  Where's Jonathan?"

"I don't know.  He's not answering his cell phone?"

"No.  What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Jonathan.  He thought I was responsible for stealing a copy of the Shikitami Skull from the museum."

"Why would he think that?"

"Because I bear a startling resemblance to the woman who did.  You know something?  What?"

He told her what the police had told him.  "He was taken off by a blonde woman and a trio of thugs."

"Great.  Definitely Kropotkin."

"You said the skull wasn't the real thing.  But I found out that there are two of them."

"Two?"

"Yeah.  One confers immortality.  The other raises the dead.  Got no idea which one was in the museum."

"Or which one I have now.  Great.  But, if there are two of them, one might help us locate the other before it's too late."

"Too late for what?" Ski asked as he followed her out of the house.

"Jonathan."

"Huh?"

She turned back with an exasperated look as she pulled a velvet sack out of the saddle bag of the motorcycle.  "Jonathan looks like Dr. Rand.  The dead Dr. Rand that my psycho twin cousin wants to bring back.  If she has the skull that returns the dead, she just might be able to steal Jonathan's body for Rand.  I don't what kind of situation is needed for the skull to work its magic, or if she has the right one.  She might just turn Jonathan into an immortal instead."

"Yeah, right.  So how do we find him?"

She pulled out the other skull.  "We try to make contact.  And we call the Legacy in San Francisco."  She walked back through the house to the back yard with Ski following her asking questions.  She stopped, set the skull on the meditation platform Jonathan had build overlooking the sea, and turned to Ski again.

"Ski."

"Yeah."

"Here.  Go call these people.  Tell them we have a problem with the Shikatami Skulls and that we need their assistance, as soon as possible, if at all possible.  Talk to Derek Rayne, the precept, or to Alexandra Moreau.  Try not to talk to Dr. Corrigan.  If Dr. Corrigan answers the phone, just ask for Derek."

"Right.  If Dr. Corrigan answers, ask for Derek.  What if he's not there?"

"Ask for Alex."

"Right.  Got it."  He headed back into the house to make the phone calls.

Cheri turned to face the skull again.  Her heart was racing.  She knew she was afraid, deathly afraid of what the skull could do.  She was afraid to find out which one she had.  She was afraid of what she could do with the skull, with the power she would have to invoke to find Jonathan.

She sat down on the grass facing the skull.  She pulled off her moccasins and dug her bare feet into the grass.  She pushed her fingers into the grass and the dirt beneath, not wanting to contact the power in the earth, and knowing that if she didn't she would lose Jonathan Raven to an enemy she feared more than death, torture and dissolution.  She closed her eyes and reached for the contact she knew was there.

Her fingers grew warm.  Tendrils of green fire rose out of the grass along her arms until the traceries of dancing flame enveloped her entirely.  She could feel the power, warm and inviting, yet fear held her back from embracing it.  She opened her eyes and gazed at the skull.  It glowed from within.  Gold and red it glowed, the antithesis of the power surrounding her.  She reached out on a level beyond the physical and touched the skull.

Pain exploded behind her eyes.  She felt as though her own skull were splitting asunder.  She reached for control, enveloping the darkness in the skull with the shadows and light of the power she held in her hands.

Jonathan.  The other skull.  Where were they?

For just a moment, a vision of Jonathan, stripped to the waist, strapped to a massive rock outcropping, a second Jonathan standing beside the rock -- she was looking through the eyes of the other skull.  But where?  Where?

She held against the mounting agony of the contact as long as she could.  Blackness engulfed her, extinguishing the green flames.  She felt herself falling -- falling -- falling -- falling -- thump.




Ski punched the number on the card Cheri had given him.  The phone rang several times before it picked up.

"Luna Foundation.  This is Dr. Rachel Corrigan.  May I help you?"

"Yeah.  My name's Herman Jablonski.  I need to talk to Derek Rayne."

"I'm sorry, he's out right now.  Perhaps I could help?"

"Alex -- andra Moreau?"

"She's out also."

"You expect them back any time soon?"

"Tomorrow some time.  Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

"Sorry.  She told me to talk to Mr. Rayne or Ms. Moreau about the skull.  Look, if they get back sooner, could you ask one of them to call this number?" He gave her his cell phone number with the area code.  "It's kinda

developed into a matter of life and death, and I'm partial to life, if you know what I mean."

"I'll give them the message.  Who told you to call?"

"Damned if I know who she is.  She's a friend of Jonathan's.  I gotta go.  He's in trouble."  Click.

Rachel Corrigan stared at the phone for a moment before hanging up herself.  She was still frowning at it when Nick Boyle walked by the doorway, noted her bemusement and looked in.

"Problem?"

The pale haired woman looked around at him.  "Not me.  A call for Derek or Alex from a Herman Jablonski.  He said a woman asked him to call.  It was about a skull.  And someone named Jonathan was in trouble.  Make any sense to you?"

"No.  Except it's someone who knows Derek or Alex, or about them.  Did he leave a number?"

"Yes."  She showed it to the younger man.

His boyish good looks were marred with a frown as he looked at the number.  "That's in Hawaii."

"Is it?"

"Yeah.  I'll see if I can pinpoint anything in Hawaii.  Why don't you call Derek and tell him about this?"

"OK."

Nick headed to the "ready room" as he thought about the research center built into the mansion.  Rachel dialed Derek's cell phone number and got a busy signal.  She dialed Alex's phone and got her voice mail.  She left a message for either Alex or Derek to call and thought nothing further of the request.

Nick checked on strange occurrences and occult connections in Hawaii over the last few weeks.  When Alex called in a few hours later, he could tell them with complete confidence that the only skulls he had found any references to were an archaeological site on the big island and the theft of a religious relic from a museum.

"What's the relic?"

"The -- Shikitami Skull.  Nothing in our archives about it."

"I'll tell Derek."

Derek Rayne, tall, dark hair beginning to streak with gray, dark amber eyes always intent on what he gazed at, met Alex Moreau's inquiring gaze with a frown.  "The Shikitami Skull -- only one?"

"You know about this?"

"There should be two.  They were separated a few years ago, but it was my understanding they were back under the guardianship of the Shin Rei sect."

"Ah.  Well, apparently not.  Do you want to call, or shall I?"

Unfortunately, Ski had forgotten in his haste that his cell phone was lying smashed on the lower deck of the Brewski.  Derek got his voice mail and left a message of inquiry.  He frowned again as he broke the connection.  "There is something very, very wrong."

"Even at this distance you can tell that?"

He met the young woman's warm gaze and nodded.  "Yes.  The legend of the skulls includes immortality and the raising of the dead.  Both have extortionate prices attached.  If someone is trying to use either of the skulls for the legendary abilities, we need to intervene."

"Well, we're finished here.  Hop a flight to Hawaii?  I've never been -" she said, turning to leave the room they were standing in.  The fates were against her making it to Hawaii it seemed.  Her heel caught on a hole in the floor as she turned and she went down with a cry.  "Damn!" she swore, her hand going to her ankle.  "Oh, that hurts."

Derek was on his knees instantly, checking her ankle.  He gently pried her heel out of the hole.  She lost color and clamped her lips shut on what sounded like a moan of pain.  He touched the ankle.  His gift for reading things and people showed him a snapped bone just above the ankle itself.  He stood up and helped her up, scooping her into his arms as soon as she was relatively vertical.

"Derek -- ?"

"You broke the bone.  I'm getting you to a doctor.  Now."

"Great!  I get a chance to go to Hawaii and what do I do?  Break my damn ankle," she complained, half laughing and half in tears from the ache radiating from the break.  "Oh, damn, Derek.  It hurts."

"I know.  Hold on."

He drove swiftly and expertly to the nearest hospital, calling ahead to let them know he was coming.  An x-ray confirmed the break.  Three hours later, her ankle encased in a cast, Derek lifted Alex into the car for the drive back to the Legacy House.

"I don't suppose you'd let me come anyway," she muttered sleepily, the painkillers they'd given her at the hospital keeping her very, very tranquil.

"Not this time."

"Rats," she said distinctly and settled in to watch the world go by the window.  "Take Nick."

"No."

"Rachel?"

"No.  I'm going alone."

Alex made a distinctly odd sound over that.  It sounded a bit like something he'd heard called a Bronx cheer, or a raspberry.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You should."

He looked over at her oddly, then realized her eyes were closed and she was practically asleep.  He let it pass without comment.  He carried her up to her room when they got home, fielding Rachel and Nick's questions as he did so.

"An accident, huh?"  Nick sounded suspicious.

"You think I made her break her ankle?"

"No!  I just -- I mean -- Oh, hell."  Nick tried to cover his confusion and failed.

"I need you here to research for me if I call."

"And me?" Rachel chimed in.

"I need you here to help Alex.  She is not going to be happy about being off her feet for a week.  And she's going to need help whether she likes it or not."

Rachel sighed and nodded, accepting that Derek would go off on whatever was happening in Hawaii by himself.  It was dangerous to work without backup, but if anyone in this House was qualified to do so, Derek was.  "Be careful.  I know, it's an idiotic thing to say considering, but considered risks are better than hair brained ones.  -- I should know," she shot back at his look and stalked out of the room.

Derek and Nick exchanged the requisite confused male look, shrugged their shoulders and ignored the eruption.




Ski bustled back into the backyard of Jonathan's house to find Cheri lying pale and cold on the grass.  The skull gleamed wickedly at him.  He knelt beside her, checking for a pulse.  He knew a moment's panic when he couldn't locate one at first.  The he felt it.  Once.  What the. . .?  Again.  Her pulse rate was about a third what he expected, but slow and steady.  No wonder she was pale.

She made an odd growl-ly noise in her throat and opened her eyes.  She blinked at Ski, not recognizing him for a moment.  "Oh.  Hi.  Ow."  She raised a hand to her head.  It throbbed and pounded murderously.  She closed her eyes.

"I called.  Derek and Alex ain't in right now.  I left a message and asked 'em to call.  Dang."

"What?"

"Gave 'em my cell number.  I ain't got the thing on me."

"That's OK.  Derek will find us.  Somehow.  We need to move.  Now."

He gave her a hand up and caught her when she nearly went down again.  She made a muffled sound against his chest that he correctly interpreted as turn her around.  She voided her last meal.

"Oh, boy.  OK.  Give me the skull.  You drive."

He looked at the motorcycle keys in her hand.  "We take my car."

"Fine.  Lead me to it."

Continued

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