Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? Get out of here! It features angst, demons, angels, and entertaining graphic sexual descriptions of men both obsessed and in love doing terribly erotic things to each other. There is also violence. If you don’t like that sort of stuff, or know you are too young please visit www.june29.com/HLP and learn a new language. It’s a lot of fun! Oh, and I don’t claim to own Jim Ellison or Blair Sandburg, or any of the other recognizable characters; I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions, and they can have them back when I’m done. I do however, own all other named characters, and those who are desperate to know how the angels and demons got in here are respectfully pointed to www.sjgames.com/in-nomine. I promise not to do any permanent damage to the people I don’t own, but everyone else is fair game. I do, however, promise to abuse my overactive sexual imagination. Enjoy.
Send comments to the address above. What can I say about the Aussie chick on the real show? How’s this: “Bad idea, meet poor execution.” Never have I hungered more for reruns.
Balance. That’s what I need, thought Blair as he walked down the hallways of Rainer University. Balance, some way to balance my friendship with Jim and my relationship with Mason. Overburdened as usual by papers and notes, Blair didn’t see his door until he was right in front of it. He smelled it first, the reek of wet iron that blood gives off, and looked up to see a huge cross drawn on his door in blood. He gasped, and dropped the papers that he was carrying as he backed away from his door.
“Not good, man,” he muttered to himself. There was no one else in his wing this early in the morning, and class wouldn’t start for another hour. Blair stared at his door for another second, then recollected his papers and walked down to his class to use the phone there to call campus security.
On the blackboard, there was another cross, this time in chalk, and a message written in a firm and decisive hand: “And those that consort with Evil shall be slain by the Righteous, for they have forfeited the protection of the Lord.”
Blair decided to call Jim at the station instead. With shaking fingers, he dialed the familiar number.
“Ellison— Blair? Is that you? What’s wrong? Your heart is going a mile a minute.”
“Someone decided to let me know they don’t approve of my sex life,” Blair said, “and I’m a little rattled.”
“What? What happened?” Jim demanded.
“There’s a cross on my door, painted in blood. And someone left a message on my board, too. It’s not biblical, I wonder where it’s from. It’s in a biblical style, but I don’t--”
“Blair,” Jim cut him off. “Calm down. Don’t touch anything.”
Blair snorted. “Like I would.”
“I’ll be right there,” Jim promised.
Blair fidgeted in the classroom for a little while, then went outside to get some fresh air while he waited for Jim.
Jim arrived in record time, with Juli from forensics at his side. He didn’t see Blair sitting on the grass outside, but immediately homed in on the familiar sounds of his heartbeat and his breathing, both still too fast for Jim’s comfort. Juli walked down to Blair’s door, and started taking some pictures. Jim set up a barrier, to try and preserve as much of the scene as possible.
Blair walked back inside. “Thanks, Jim.”
“No problem,” Jim smiled. They walked down to the door, to watch Juli collect evidence for the lab. “It’s not human,” he said to Blair. “Probably an animal - we should check the local meat markets.”
“How do you know?” said Juli.
Jim cursed to himself. He’d forgotten how sharp her pretty Korean ears were. So, he just smiled enigmatically. “The Mysterious Ellison knows all.”
“Did the Mysterious Ellison notice that it was leaking out of the office as well?” said Juli sweetly.
Blair paled, and Jim walked up to the door. There was a small pool of blood gathered at the bottom of the door. “Blair, why don’t you go down the corridor and call Simon?”
Blair shook his head. “No, I want to see this. I need to see this. It might mean something.”
Jim snapped on a latex glove, and Blair handed him the key. When Juli indicated that she was ready with the camera, Jim slowly opened the door, to reveal one partially exsanguinated and completely disemboweled lamb on the floor in front of Blair’s desk. It had fallen from the computer cables that had been suspending it in the air above Blair’s desk, leaving a blood-stained flourescent bulb dangling above it.
Now there was blood on the floor, having spilled out of a large copper bowl in front of the door. All over the window, strange symbols had been drawn with the rest of the blood. Juli immediately started snapping pictures, covering all the angles, while Blair turned and ran to the bathroom.
“You stay here, Juli. I’ll go check on Blair.” Juli just nodded, and continued taking pictures. Jim walked down the hallway into the bathroom.
Blair wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s not a threat, Jim.”
“What?”
“The lamb was a sacrifice. They’re trying to protect me. I think.”
Jim looked carefully at his Guide. He was pale, and his blue eyes were dark with some emotion that Jim couldn’t identify.
Blair continued talking. “The symbols on the floor and on the window appear in certain cabalistic texts; they lead the angels of death astray. So the lamb is taken instead of the human.”
“Okay, Blair,” said Jim slowly. He wasn't convinced. “But who would do that? And why?”
Blair shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought it was a threat at first - the message on the board -”
“What message?”
“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t seen it yet,” muttered Blair as if to himself. He led Jim down to the classroom. He was still shaking.
Jim stared at the writing. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a postcard which he handed to Blair.
“What’s this?” said Blair as he unfolded it.
“Something I got in the mail today.”
“‘Does Judgement come for those who have failed in their Duty, and they who have forfeited the protection of the Lord shall fall as all who fail have Fallen,’” Blair read aloud from the card. The handwriting was the same as the handwriting on the board. He turned it over to see who it was from. “This came out of the University post office. ‘Protector of Man.’”
“I think you should cancel your class today.”
“Jim, I canceled class the other day. I can’t cancel two classes in a row. I have a test scheduled for next week!”
Jim didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to Juli. “We need a full forensics team down here. I want this place gone over with a fine-tooth comb.”
Juli nodded, and started dialing.
“Maybe I could teach out on the lawn,” mused Blair.
“Yeah, or maybe you could just stake yourself out in front of the chapel, and make it really easy. Blair, the lawn is a sniper’s dream. Forget it, you’re not teaching today.”
“Jim, it’s my job we’re talking about here.”
“No, it’s your life.”
Blair stared up at his friend. “You’re serious. You really think someone is trying to kill me.”
“No, I think they’re going to if we don’t figure out what they want. And until I get a handle on this, you are not staying here alone.”
“Jim-”
“Where were you supposed to be last night?”
Blair swallowed. “Office hours. I was supposed to be in my office last night.” He could feel his stomach begin to rebel at the thought of how close he had come to being his own sacrifice. “I’m gonna throw up,” he announced unnecessarily, and ran back to the bathroom.
Jim gave him a minute for privacy, then went after him. “Feel better?”
“No,” Blair answered, “but I’ve gone through all my last meals.” He rinsed his mouth at the sink. “So it wasn’t a sacrifice, technically, it was a substitute. It was supposed to be me. I really need to get a better look at those symbols on the wall. I wonder if Dr. Karpas is still in the library; I know she has a cabalistic dictionary in there somewhere.”
“It can wait. They’re not going anywhere. You look like you could use some fresh air.”
Blair nodded, and let Jim lead him outside. “It’s a university, Jim, a place where all the diverse elements of society come together to learn, and to share knowledge. Why would anyone want to kill me? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Jim stared at the ceiling, and took Blair gently by the arm. “Let’s go back to the station and make it make sense.” Juli returned with the cell phone, and Jim motioned Blair to take it. “Cancel your class.” Blair sighed and obeyed.
After getting no response at Blair’s office, I decided to drive down to the University and see what was going on. His classes should have been over for the day, and we had made a date, one that I intended to keep. The entrance was crawling with frustrated reporters, who were being held back by campus police and Cascade police.
“Are you a student?” demanded one of the Cascade officers.
“No, I’m here to pick up a friend, Blair Sandburg.” I stared at the web of police cars stringing their way to the Anthropology building. “What’s going on?”
“Sandburg?” said the officer. “Hold on, park over there,” he pointed to a spot just inside the gates, “and let me get back to you.”
I pulled into the campus, and felt the ripple of an Ethereal Barrier run over me. It would have been enough to keep out any lesser power; either the being trying to keep me out had miscalculated, or she was testing my strength. Celestials try so hard to be crafty, but they never quite get it right. Now I knew there was someone after me. This could be fun.
The officer returned, with a piece of paper. “Sandburg’s down at the station. Here’s the number where you can reach him.”
I thanked him, pulled out my cell phone, and dialed the number that he had given me. It rang once, then I heard Blair’s lovely eager voice on the other end. “Mason?”
I smiled. It never failed to amaze me how much emotion he could put into a single word. “Hello, Blair. What’s going on?”
“Uh, just some wacked out student,” he said quickly. I couldn’t tell if he was lying, but I had a very firm suspicion.
“Are we still on for our date?” I purred. I let some of my hunger for him into my voice; I didn’t want to take any chances. I needed to see him.
“Uh...” I could hear another voice, soft and indistinguishable, in the background. Ellison.
“Why don’t you bring Jim along?” I suggested quickly, kicking myself at the same time. That was the last thing I wanted, but I needed Blair very badly. My energy was starting to splinter; all I needed to do was touch him to get it back on the right track. If only all addictions were so fun and easy to fulfill! “We can go out for dinner or something. Maybe a movie?”
“No, not a movie. But dinner would be nice, and then maybe we could go to the boat afterwards?” said Blair hopefully, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or to Ellison. “We can decide later,” he said quickly, “can you meet me at the apartment in half an hour?”
“Sure, love,” I smiled, “that I can do. And someday soon, we will have to spend some time together that does not in any way involve the Cascade Police Department.” He laughed at that, a beautiful sound that thrilled me to the core. He may be a heartless taskmaster, but He certainly does good work.
I hung up, and started the car again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young man glaring at my car. I looked a little more closely, and saw the trademark pearlescent shimmers that marked a Celestial in mortal shape. To his eyes, I would have a tell-tale outline of fire, but he couldn’t see that while I was in the car.
A servant, most likely, of the Guardian who had set the barrier for me. No one she would miss.
I drove away slowly, giving him plenty of time to catch up with me as he walked off campus, pacing my car. At the first stop sign outside the University, I let the car stall and coasted over to the curb. The young man was definitely watching as I got out to ‘fix’ it. Foolish.
I fiddled with the engine for a second before I looked up at him. “Do you know anything about cars?” I asked politely.
I saw the glint of the dying sunlight reflected in his eyes as he looked back at me. He resisted for a second, but I am an old and powerful demon, with many distinctions granted to me by my Prince. I have power over the baser emotions of mortals, Celestials, and even my own kind. With one simple glance, I can change the natural hate that lesser Celestials have for the Fallen into the same eager lust that brings gamblers to my tables and lovers to my bed. With a bit more effort and a healthy dose of luck, I can change the tender pity that the more powerful Celestials still have for us into a willingness to risk love - just one more time.
The young man came over to help me. Foolish.
I think I’ll give him to Dale. He’s been so good lately, he deserves a treat. And this will be easier to clean up than that mess in Chicago.
“Right, Simon. Keep the uniforms on it, and I’ll start with the evidence—” Jim waited for Simon’s interruption to flow through. “Fine, tomorrow morning then. Blair’s right here, and I’m keeping an eye on him. I’ll try not to let him do anything too dangerous. Right. Tomorrow, then. See ya, Simon.”
Sprawled on the couch and shamelessly eavesdropping, Blair sighed. “Jim, I think you’re overreacting. Just let me go out for the night. I’ll be safe. I won’t stay out too late, I promise. Please?”
It hurt Jim to hear Blair begging to go spend time with another man, but no one with a heart could resist Blair’s puppy dog eyes. “I won’t go, but there’ll be a few uniforms tagging along, out of sight.”
“Yeah, that’s sure to be enlightening. For all seven members of the force who haven’t yet figured out that I’m gay.” giggled Blair. “Gay!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing his hands up into the air, exuberant for no reason other than knowing that he would be with Mason again in a little while.
Jim winced. “Don’t yell, Blair.”
“Oh,” he said in a very small voice. “I’m so sorry, Jim. I totally- oh, Jim, I’m sorry.” Blair clapped his hands over his mouth, and was very glad when the buzzer rang. “I’ll bet that’s Mason,” he cried, springing to his feet.
“Siddown, cowboy. I’ll get it.” Jim pointed authoritatively at the couch, and Blair sat down again with a loud sigh. Using his senses, Jim easily recognized Mason’s burnt cinnamon scent just beyond the door. Underneath that, Jim could smell a hint of blood, as if Mason had cut himself shaving - but the smell was fresh and it was a bit late in the day to be shaving. He opened the door cautiously, noting that Mason was still wearing his sunglasses, even though he was indoors and it was getting dark outside. He was also standing right in front of the door, an easy target for anyone trying to shoot into the apartment. “C’mon in,” said Jim gruffly.
Mason smiled, and entered the loft. He pulled off his sunglasses, and looked around, letting his eyes fall on Blair before commenting, “Nice place.”
Blair grinned, and Jim could smell the subtle scent of Blair’s arousal. “Sorry about lunch.” Blair patted the couch next to him, and Mason sat down and wrapped an arm around Blair. “As soon as Jim says it’s okay, we can leave.”
Mason looked curiously up at Jim. “What’s going on? Anything I should know about?”
“There was some trouble at the university today. Do me a favor, and keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. And if you do run into this wacko, for god’s sake,” Jim paused while Mason had a sudden uncontrollable sneezing fit. “Bless you.” Mason kept sneezing and started coughing, and Blair ran to the kitchen to get some water. “Are you okay?” Mason nodded. “Good. What was I saying? Oh, Blair, don’t talk to them; just call me. Got it? You don’t have anything to do with this. This is my job.”
Blair nodded absently. He was watching Mason hastily drink the glass of tap water. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Mason coughed. He looked a little embarrassed. “Really.” He took a deep breath, barely managing to subdue a nervous giggle, and said, “We’re probably just going to hang out on the ship for the evening. Have dinner there, and all that.”
Blair smiled and bounced a little, making Mason grin. Jim smiled wearily, shutting down the pain of jealousy. “All right then. Here.” Jim tossed the cell phone to Blair. “The battery’s fully charged. Call me if you need anything.”
Blair tucked the phone away carefully. “Well, g’night, Jim.” He looked carefully at his Sentinel, noting the lines of tension in his face and the set of his jaw. “Mmmm...Mason, can I meet you outside in a minute? I just wannna clear something up with Jim.”
“Sure,” said Mason. He smiled lightly at the two men. “I’ll be at the elevator. Goodnight, Jim.”
Jim nodded in reply, unable to tear his eyes away from Blair. Mason let himself out, and for what seemed like an eternity, Jim and Blair continued staring at each other.
“Tomorrow is Friday. I have no classes, and no office hours. For dinner, we will be having that talk you mentioned a little while ago, that we haven’t really had yet.” Jim started to say something, but Blair cut him off. Blair’s voice had become soft and dangerous; almost his Guide voice, but not quite. “I don’t care if we’re in the middle of a gunfight, or a car chase, or a terrorist attack, we will talk tomorrow. Or I’m moving out.”
Jim snapped his mouth shut. That was a pretty definite ultimatum. He nodded his agreement, since he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to talk right now. It seemed more likely that he would just end up throwing himself at Blair’s feet and begging him to stay.
Blair nodded as well. “I’ll be back, Jim. Don’t worry.” He brushed past Jim to get to the door, and was closing it when Jim suddenly grabbed him.
“Your keys,” said Jim, desperately, “don’t forget your keys.” He grabbed them from the basket and handed them to Blair. “Good night.”
Blair nodded, and left.
Nice, Jim. You didn’t beg...much. Jim sighed, and finally tore himself away from the door. He’d been standing there, listening to the elevator descend, with Blair and Mason making out inside; then to the two of them crossing the street and entering Mason’s car, where Mason had proceeded to start giving Blair a blow job before the doors were even closed; and finally to Blair’s satisfied sigh, followed by the roar of the powerful engine as they drove away.
Now, what was it Simon had asked him to do? Oh, yeah, he wanted Jim to start calling Blair’s students to see if they had seen anyone unusual on campus in the last few days.
Jim turned on the stereo, setting the volume so low that only he could hear it. He needed to hear something, to help him concentrate on something other than all things Blair. Strains of Schubert filled the room, giving Jim an anchor to the real world. Taking a deep breath, he walked into Blair’s room. Blair’s room was, in Jim’s obsessed opinion, the most wonderful room in the house. It was a delight for the senses; it smelled warm, like Blair and herbs and spices. It was riotously colorful, but not so bright as to hurt your eyes. And there were about ten pillows on the futon, so it was cozy and comfortable - not that Jim was about to admit that he liked to hang out on Blair’s bed.
Jim shook himself, and got back to the task at hand. Blair kept his class lists on the corkboard above the tiny desk. Blair never used that desk, except to store things. He always worked in the living room, not that Jim minded at all. Any excuse to be near Blair was good enough for Jim. Jim took the lists down, and went out to grab the phone and start calling.
The first group of students hadn’t seen anything strange. No one had noticed any strangers in class, or hanging around Professor Sandburg’s office. And none of them set off Jim’s senses. Well, two were obviously drunk, and one student either had a heart condition or a bad addiction to stimulants, but no one was unduly excited by any of Jim’s questions.
Until he got to Guenevere Frank.
Jim could hear her excitement when she picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’m Detective Jim Ellison, with the Cascade Police Department.” He heard her heart begin to race.
“Oh, hi.” She had been expecting someone else, and she was afraid of something.
“I wanted to ask you about --” he stopped. Her heart sounded like a hammer, and her breathing was getting faster. “Or is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Oh, it’s nothing - I just - my boyfriend’s missing!” she blurted out. “How long are you supposed to wait before you can say he’s missing? He hasn’t called yet, and I’m worried. He always calls!”
“Calm down,” said Jim gently. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“This morning. He was supposed to meet me after class, but class was cancelled. He never does this. It’s usually all I can do to keep him from following me everywhere!”
Jim sighed quietly, and stretched a little before he answered. “I actually called to ask if you’d seen anyone unusual yesterday, around Professor Sandburg’s office. But why don’t you give me his name and tell me what he looks like anyway. I might come across something.”
“The only unusual person I saw yesterday was that guy making out with Professor Sandburg. Swirly didn’t like him. Well, his name is Ashwerleh Malim, but everyone calls him ‘Swirly.’”
“He didn’t like him?”
“I think Swirly knew him from somewhere. Or maybe he just didn’t like the way he smelled. I dunno. Swirly’s about six feet, blonde, with dark eyes,” Guenevere kept talking, but Jim stopped listening. There was a hair on the couch. He wouldn’t have paid it much attention, except that he knew Blair had cleaned the living room a few days ago. And neither he nor Blair was blonde.
And the only guest they’d had in the last few days was Mason.
“Red-blonde hair, about shoulder length?” Jim snapped.
The interruption cut off her flow of chatter dead. “How did you know that?” she whispered.
“Shit,” snarled Jim. “Look, I can’t jump to any conclusions, but you’ve just given me something to investigate. Someone’s going to call you and get a statement from you. I have to go.”
“Okay,” she whispered numbly.
Jim felt for her. “I’ll do everything I can,” he promised, and hung up.
Jim grabbed his gun and his car keys while calling Blair. There was no answer. Jim placed the hair from his couch in an evidence bag, and threw the class lists into a folder. He had to get to the station; he needed to know more about a certain Leland Mason McSheehan.
I didn’t talk to him until we reached my room. I just kissed him, groped him, sucked him, touched him in any way I could think of without actually fucking him. I didn’t want him to know I was angry. I just wanted him to know how much I needed him.
Blair was practically crying with need when we finally made it to the bed. He kissed me fiercely, and tried to unbutton my shirt. I twisted his hands away, and threw him down on the bed.
“What-”
I straddled him. He looked up into my eyes. There was a little light of terror there, but mostly arousal. I have that effect on people. He tried to move, but I had his arms securely pinned between my legs, and I was positioned on top of him so that he had no leverage.
“Mason, c’mon. What are you doing?” he demanded as he tried to wriggle away.
I leaned down, close to his face. “Do you want me to leave?” I whispered. He shook his head. I ripped open his shirt, exposing his lovely chest. The gold of his nipple ring glittered in the dim light, tempting me. Who am I to resist temptation now? I took that tiny, sweet nipple into my mouth, and started nibbling it lightly. Blair hissed. I ran my tongue around the ring while I held the nub between my teeth. He still didn’t cry out. I continued sucking, until he moaned, and then kept going until he gave the kind of moan that means ‘I’ve had enough.’ Then I really started working it over.
His erection was obvious, given our position. I shifted a bit, and pulled his hands over his head and held them there. Then I continued sucking on his nipple.
“Mason,” he begged.
I looked at him. More terror, but still too much lust to consider stopping. I switched to the other side, and repeated my actions on that nipple, only harder, because this one didn’t have a ring for me to pull on.
He whimpered, and moaned, all in the most incredibly erotic way, and began grinding his throbbing cock into me. I could feel it - he was very close, and couldn’t take much more. I kissed him then, plundering his lush mouth with uncontrolled fury. I knew what my jacket must feel like on his tortured nipples, and I felt him trying to pull away from the rough leather and only making it worse. He kissed back, trying to beg my forgiveness for whatever sin I was punishing him for. I went back to the nipple ring, and all it took was one nip to make his hips thrust uncontrollably into me, signaling his orgasm.
I pulled away, and watched him shudder beneath me. So beautiful.
“Oh, Mason,” he breathed. His beautiful sapphire blue eyes met mine. So trusting.
“Does Jim do this to you?” I demanded suddenly. I surprised even myself. I thought I had more self-control. But my mouth seemed determined to make my feelings clear. “Does he make you feel this way?”
Blair smiled at me in surprise. “You’re jealous!” He sounded as pleased as a child with a new toy. “Mason, you don’t have to be jealous.”
“Don’t I?” I snarled. He shook his head, tossing his thick mass of curls from side to side. I pulled him up, twisting his arms behind him. He squirmed a little, but subsided when I did nothing more than bury my face in his neck. “I don’t want to lose you, Blair. I can’t. I won’t.”
Blair turned a little to kiss me, and I let go of his hands so that he could hold me. He wrapped me in his arms, and kissed me so deeply I was frightened. This wasn’t normal. It was as if we were both under my spell, or perhaps beyond it.
He kissed me again, and gently pushed my jacket away from my shoulders. I let it fall, and he continued, taking off my shirt and unbuckling my jeans. Kiss after kiss kept me still in his arms, unresisting, and he undressed me. When he was done, he pulled slightly away, and took off his own clothes while I watched.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” I whispered. He gave me a private little half-smile, the kind he gave to compliments that he really wanted to hear. I reached out for him, but he twisted away, sinuously, turning the motion into the beginning of slow, careful turn.
He crossed his hands together over his head, as if he were suspended from a chain, and twirled around slowly. “And the bidding starts now, ladies and gentlemen - how much am I bid for one Blair? One hundred? How about you, sir?” he laughed as he said the words, but his eyes were deadly serious. “How much will you bid?”
“Blair?” I said softly. I don’t like playing games when I don’t know the rules.
“I can’t decide who needs me more, you or Jim.”
He continued swinging lightly, still pretending to be on a chain. It was distracting. “Who do you want more, Blair? Isn’t that more important?”
Blair stared deeply into my eyes. “I want to be needed.”
I had no answer for that. A thousand lies raced through my mind, and just as quickly, each one was rejected. Blair lowered his arms, and began dancing slowly around the room. I groaned. “I can’t think while you’re doing that.”
He spun around to face me. “Then don’t think. Just say what’s in your heart!” Given that my heart is in a small cage under the throne of my Prince, that would be most unwise. I held my tongue, and Blair went back to dancing to music only he could hear. After a moment, I caught the beat and rose to join him. As good an answer as any, I suppose. He smiled, and we swayed together in the darkness of my room.
Jim stared at the computer screen. This had to be a joke. Some kind of sick, twisted joke. Because there was no way Blair could be dating a terrorist arms dealer. There was no way running his plates for a routine ticket could have failed to bring up the fact that the car Mason drove was a two million dollar thank you gift from Basque separatists in exchange for Mason’s services in procuring rare chemical weapons from the former Soviet Union for them. His name and the plates had an Interpol tag on them; any search would have brought that up. Any search would have set off that tag and started the computer spewing off report after report in which Mason’s charisma and connections had succeeded in getting weapons of death and wholesale destruction into the hands of fanatics all over the world.
And Blair was with him. Right now.
Every instinct in Jim screamed for him to go to his Guide, his shaman, his Blessed Protectee. Jim grabbed his keys, and let his instincts lead.
The Sentinel didn't notice the motorcycle following him. “It is because his Guide has failed him,” muttered the rider. “He must be punished. The Sentinel needs a Guide who will serve him, and only him, otherwise the Sentinel can serve no purpose.”
“Look,” snarled Jim, “I just want to know if Blair’s here.”
The steward just smiled in the most irritating way, and shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Mr. McSheehan’s orders are very strict. He is not to be disturbed.”
Jim shrugged his jacket open, so that he badge could be seen. “I’m going to ask you again -” he stopped. What was that smell? Cordite? “Do you smell that?” he asked the steward absently, then turned around, into the wind that was carrying the scent over. Someone was kneeling by a group of barrels on the dock. Jim focused. He was pushing buttons on a timer, setting the readout to fifteen seconds, and it started counting down before the person had moved away. “What’s in those barrels?”
The person started running. “Oil,” answered the steward. “We’re refueling the engines.” Ten seconds.
“Someone just set a bomb over there,” snapped Jim, and moved to run back down the gangplank to warn the workers. Gunfire ripped out, cutting down some of the workers, and sending them screaming to the ship. Oil leaked out of the barrels, and Jim realized that an explosion right now would blow a hole in the side of the ship, and most likely cripple the engines. Seven seconds.
Suddenly a pair of strong hands grabbed him and threw him onto the deck. Jim looked up to see the steward running past him, down the gangplank, towards the bomb. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” yelled Jim. Five seconds.
Jim could hear the huge engines start up, and the ship began to actively float away. The main gangplank fell away from the dock, and Jim helped the workers who had just run up aboard the ship. Three seconds.
The steward had gotten to the barrels, and was working on the timer. Jim swore under his breath, and looked for the shooter. He couldn’t see anyone. Two seconds.
Jim spotted someone with a gun; where she was standing, the shadows behind her curved up and over her head, like wings. She was holding an Uzi, and the recoil didn’t seem to affect her as she let loose two bursts at the steward. He went down, with a bloody hole in his midsection, and Jim could see the timer still ticking down.
“Get down,” he yelled, and the explosion unleashed a ball of fire that sent barrels flying into the air, raining flaming oil all over the deck of the ship.
There was another blast, of bright light, and Jim felt the ship rock underneath him. Miraculously, no oil landed on him. The engines groaned to a halt, and then he felt them kick up again, a bit weaker than before - backup engines, perhaps? Jim got up, and tried to assess the situation.
Does any wonder compare to touching a lover in silence? Blair laid his head on Mason’s shoulder as they moved together. Wordless hunger was eating him alive as he pressed himself against Mason’s body. Blair knew he had to find the balancing point between Jim and Mason before he could get on with his life, but he now needed to put his life on hold for an hour or two while Mason fucked his brains out.
The ship lurched underneath them, and it took Blair a moment to realize that the movement had occurred in the real world, and not in his own mind. “What was that?” said Blair.
Mason looked around without answering, and then suddenly his head snapped up, the way Jim’s did when hearing a far-off noise. “Get dressed.” Mason pushed Blair away, and grabbed his own clothes, pulling on his jeans as he ran out of the bedroom.
“Mason?”
Mason turned on the intercom, calling for Dale. His only reply was static. “I don’t know what that was, Blair, but it can’t be good.” Mason laced up his boots, and slipped into his jacket.
Blair took a moment to appreciate how good the older man looked without a shirt on, then turned to his own clothes, getting dressed as fast as he could.
A voice crackled out of the intercom. Blair didn’t catch the first few words, which were either in a totally foreign language, or simply so distorted by the static as to totally unrecognizable. But he could clearly understand the ending: “And in the end, they shall fall as all those who disobey the Law and the Word shall fall.”
“All those who feel, Fall,” muttered Mason, as if in response. “Shit, shit, shit.” Mason nervously smoothed down the front of his jacket.
“Who was that?” demanded Blair. “What did that mean?”
Mason looked blankly at Blair.
“‘And those that consort with Evil shall be slain by the Righteous, for they have forfeited the protection of the Lord. Does Judgement come for those who have failed in their Duty, and they who have forfeited the protection of the Lord shall fall as all who fail have Fallen. And in the end, they shall fall as all those who disobey the Law and the Word shall fall.’ What is that from?”
Mason sighed. “‘All those who feel, Fall,’” he repeated. “I’m sorry, Blair.” He reached out to touch Blair’s face. “I should never have gotten you mixed up in this.”
Blair stared at him. “What? What shouldn’t you have gotten me mixed up in? What’s going on?”
Mason held out his hand to Blair. “Come, we have to leave now.”
The ship was obviously drifting, but it was drifting out to sea. The deck was covered with burning bodies. Jim decided to try and make it to the control room to call for help. And then he saw it. In the smoke and fire where the bomb had gone off, about where the steward’s body should have been, there was something moving. It sat up, seemingly undisturbed by the fire and smoke, and then it slowly stood.
At this point, Jim was beginning to doubt his eyes, and questioned his sanity. What his eyes saw was a twelve-foot tall, purple skinned humanoid form with two twisted black horns on the top of its head, a mouth full of black fangs, and hands that seemed to be mostly claws. It threw back its head, and screamed in anger, and then Jim knew it was real because the sound drove him to his knees, his sensitive Sentinel hearing protesting at the aural assault.
It jumped off the dock, using its claws to rip through the hull of the boat and began climbing up the side of the ship. Jim looked down at his gun, and shook his head. He staggered to his feet, not sure what he could do, but determined to try something.
“Get out of the way, Detective!”
Jim turned around. The speaker was a slight woman, probably the person who had shot the steward/Beast earlier. She was about college age, and was dressed like any student, in jeans and a t-shirt. She was five feet tall at most, and had blonde hair and night-dark eyes. Around her neck, she was wearing a star and crescent pendant. But she had wings, soft fluffy white feathered wings that arched gracefully up over her head and gently swept along the ground behind her.
She tossed Jim the Uzi she was holding. “There’s someone else here, Detective Ellison, and he’s after your Guide.” She turned her dark eyes to the growling beast that had finally pulled itself onto the deck. “This one’s mine.” She drew herself up to her full height, and stretched her arms out, as if in offering, to the monster. The monster lowered its head, as if preparing to charge.
Jim heard the air begin to crackle with electricity, and realized that he was standing right between the beast and the angel. He dove out of her way, just as the demon roared, and a bolt of unearthly white light shot out from her hands, catching it right in the face. The demon charged at her anyway, bleeding from the eyes and ears, and gored her with its horns. It tossed its head, throwing the little angel off to the side.
Jim raised the Uzi and fired a quick burst, hitting the demon in the chest. It staggered back, entirely surprised. The recoil from the weapon threw Jim off, and his last few shots went wild. The demon turned to face Jim. It looked like it was considering something.
Bleeding, the angel stood up. She was barely visible behind the demon. She held her hands out at her sides, and then slowly brought them together in front of her face. A glowing sword appeared between her hands. With a wild scream, she launched herself at the beast, swinging her sword with the expert grace of a samurai warrior. Ribbons of purple flesh dangled from the demon’s body by the time she paused for breath.
The demon screamed, driving both Jim and the angel to their knees. Jim turned down his hearing, and focused on his sight. He brought up the Uzi, and aimed for the demon’s eyes. He fired a single shot, putting a bullet into the beast’s skull.
The scream stopped abruptly, and the demon fell over with a dull ‘thud.’
The angel crawled over to Jim. “Thanks,” she gasped, and shook his hand. Jim felt an odd surge of electricity go through him. “I’m Katimeh Malim, Guardian of Cascade.” And then she fainted.
Mason was silent as they walked down the halls, ignoring Blair’s questions. The emergency lighting cast strange shadows on their faces, giving Blair an unearthly, elfin appearance, and giving Mason an added layer of shadow, as if the darkness was trying to cling to him.
“He lies to you,” said the loudspeakers suddenly. Both Blair and Mason stopped, and looked up at the speakers. “He lies, and you’re too stupid to see it, driven by your faithless lust. How can you let him touch you while your Sentinel’s needs go unanswered?”
Mason rolled his eyes. “Ignore it,” he advised Blair, and they started off again.
“Do you know what you’re sleeping with, fallen one?”
“Shut up,” grumbled Mason.
“‘And the call was sent down, that they could serve no more purpose in the history of Man, and the servants of Flame were sent to cleanse the Earth.’ Do you know what you’re sleeping with, fallen one?” the voice repeated.
Mason whipped around, to stare at Blair.
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Blair. “What does that mean?”
Mason laughed, almost hysterical. “It means I’m in a lot more trouble than I thought.” He turned and looked up at the speaker. “But I have this problem with authority, you see...” his voice trailed off into real laughter. “How do I find them?” he asked himself bemusedly. “Forbidden fruit is the sweetest,” he murmured, then pulled Blair close, for a hungry kiss.
“No,” Blair pulled away. “Tell me what’s going on, Mason. Now! Tell me what that means.”
Mason shook his head. “It doesn’t mean anything, love.” He kissed Blair again, drowning further protest. Suddenly, Mason turned, and pushed Blair behind him.
“Liar! It means that I can kill you, and no Power will care.”
Blair screamed when he saw the figure standing at the end of the hall. It was like seeing a nightmare come to life: a mirror image of himself, but with murderous hatred in the deep blue eyes, and with red-feathered wings that looked like flame coming out of his back. Blair would have run if Mason hadn’t still been holding his hand.
“I’ll care,” said Mason softly. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he grinned.
The thing at the end of the hall shrugged, rippling the feathers of wings. It looked like he was on fire. “My name is Tyche,” he said, “and since this thing,” he pointed to Blair, “will not give the service he was saved for, his life is forfeit.”
Mason smiled, still holding on tightly to Blair’s hand, and keeping Blair behind him. “And then you will take his place, of course?”
Tyche smiled, an eerie imitation of Blair’s most casual smile. “Until a proper replacement can be found.”
Mason laughed again. “Well, you’ll have to go through me.”
“Gladly,” snarled Tyche, and raised his arms to the ceiling, and suddenly, the hallway was filled with fire.
Blair screamed, but nothing happened to him. There was a circle around Mason and Blair where the fire simply didn’t exist, and slowly the circle expanded until the fire was gone. Tyche stared.
“Who in the name of the Most Holy are you?”
Mason raised an eyebrow. “You should have asked that question first,” he smiled. “Oh, it’s my turn to show off, isn’t it?” He brushed a hand through his hair, and Blair saw a card slide down the sleeve of his jacket. It was the Jack of Hearts. Mason drew his hand back, and flicked the card out towards the thing wearing Blair’s face.
Lightning, only small crackles at first, grew to a huge ball by the time it slammed into Tyche, and lifted him, screaming, off the ground and carried him halfway up the flight of stairs at the far end of the hall.
Mason turned around, and pushed Blair ahead of him. “Run!”
Blair didn’t need to be told twice, and raced down the hall, away from the crazed Tyche. Mason was right behind him. Fire erupted in the hallway again just as they turned the corner. Mason tackled Blair, and covered him. The fire drew back, but a terrible heat remained in the hall. Mason got up, and pointed Blair to the staircase. “After you,” he smiled. Blair would have laughed if he hadn’t been so scared. Instead, he ran up the stairs. When he reached the top, he realized that Mason hadn’t followed him.
“Mason?” he squeaked.
Of course, it all made sense now. A little late, but better than never, I suppose.
“So,” I asked the insane angel as he turned the corner, “were you sent down here to clean this up or did you come up with this plan on your own?”
He threw another fireball at me, but my shield was up again, protecting Blair’s retreat. “What difference does it make?” he snapped.
“The difference between the obedient and the Tripped,” I grinned. I leaned casually against the wall. “You still haven’t asked me my name.”
“I don’t care who you are! You can’t hold out forever.” He was walking carefully towards me, expecting a trap.
“You know, I really liked this ship. I liked this life. I put a lot of work into it.” I just waited. He kept coming. “And you just destroyed it all, my ship, my persona, everything.” I moved, then, and grabbed him by the throat. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, you little psycho?”
He reached up, trying to pry my hand away. I just squeezed a little. I was angry. “What you were spouting before - all that crap about Duty and the Fallen - do you even know what it means? ‘Those who Feel, Fall.’ Do you want to know how we Fall? How I Fell?” His struggles picked up energy as he realized that I was draining his Essence with my touch. He realized that he was going to die. My voice dropped to a whisper, because, despite the passage of time, I still had to fight back tears. “Her name was Ruth. She was the sweetest, most darling girl you could imagine. All she wanted was to be married, and raise a family, just like any other girl. She didn’t ask to become the epitome of blind loyalty in Western civilization, but because I made her fall in love with her husband, she stayed. And she wouldn’t leave that wretched old woman, she didn’t care that she lost her chance to be a wife and a mother, because she had known love.” I threw the angel down, smashing his head against the stairs. “And it was all my fault! She was miserable, because of me!” He was gasping now, dying under my hands. “Because I was once like you. Obedient,” I whispered.
I let go, and the empty vessel clattered to the floor. His features melted away to a formless mass.
A tear fell onto the stair just above the dead angel. I looked up. Blair was there. He’d been watching me.
“She’s sinking,” I said calmly. I had no strength left to deal with my emotions. I stepped over the steaming mess and climbed up the stairs. “There’s a lifeboat down this way.”
Jim shot another rising shadow, and screamed in frustration as he realized the clip was spent. Katimeh was still unconscious. Jim had started to carry her to a lifeboat, but it turned out that most of the dead workers were not quite dead - and not quite human.
“Jim?”
Jim couldn’t smell anything through the smoke, but he would recognize that heartbeat anywhere. “Blair?” He strained to see through the fires, but before he could focus enough, Blair came out of the haze and threw his arms around him.
“Jim!” Blair buried his face in Jim’s neck and hugged him tightly. Then he saw the winged body lying next to Jim, and jumped back.
“Easy, Blair.” Jim noticed that Mason was staring at her as well. “She’s one of the good guys.”
“What happened?” asked Mason.
“Some nutcase set off a bomb while your guys were refueling, and then all hell broke loose. There are these-- things-- everywhere!”
“Bomb?” said Mason.
“Yeah,” Jim waved in the direction of the first explosion. Mason ran off to go take a look at the damage. “Are you all right, Blair? There was another one - someone after you--”
“Mason killed him.”
Jim and Blair looked around. The ship was burning, and there were bodies everywhere, of varying levels of humanity. “Blair, do you have any idea what’s going on?” Blair shook his head. Jim could hear his Guide’s heart speed up, and knew that Blair was afraid.
Mason came running back. He picked up the unconscious angel and tossed her over his shoulder. “Lifeboat. Let’s go.”
“Now what?” Blair demanded.
Mason looked a bit sheepish. “She’s going to explode.” He tried not to look at Blair. “The store of arms in the hold has caught fire.”
“Mason!” Blair screamed angrily.
Jim took Blair’s arm. “Later, Blair. He’s right, we’ve got to get out of here.”
Mason looked at Blair, and shrugged. “What can I say? I have a hard time letting go, especially of bad habits.” He led them to one of the lifeboats, and threw the angel inside. “Get in, I’ll lower you. Don’t start the engine until you hit the water.”
Blair stared at him. “You’re not coming.”
Mason closed his eyes and sighed. “Someone has to pilot her away from Cascade.”
Jim climbed in and started checking the dashboard. “Blair, come on.”
“What am I, Mason?”
Mason smiled at that, and pulled Blair to him for a final kiss. “You are a very beautiful, very special person, and no Power in Heaven or Hell can change that.” He kissed Blair, drinking in the wonder of Blair’s touch, and at the same time, healing all the damage he had caused. “Go safely to the arms of the one you love, and who loves you, and may you find joy in it for all your days.”
Blair slumped, and Mason handed him over to Jim. “I believe this is yours,” he laughed, “and now, you must be going.” Jim stood there for a moment, holding Blair, and Mason smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He lightly touched two fingers to Jim’s forehead, and Jim toppled over, falling on the angel with Blair on top of him.
Mason lowered them into the water, and the resulting splash finally roused the little angel. She struggled up, putting her wings away, and looked up to Mason’s wicked grin. She yelled in frustration and Mason waved good-bye, then turned and ran down to the engine room.
Blair stared at the television screen. He was in the hospital, with a mild concussion, but was otherwise unharmed. Jim was next door, suffering from smoke inhalation.
“The floating casino exploded and sank less than a mile off the coast of Cascade,” reported the news announcer. “An explosion on the dock left twenty people injured, and three dead. There is no sign of the casino’s charismatic owner, Leland McSheehan, and he is presumed to have perished on board the ship.”
Blair flinched, as if the pain was physical, and turned away.
“No information is available to explain the size of the explosion. Sources indicate that the casino had been targeted by threats of violence in the past, but nothing on this scale.”
“Blair?” Jim limped into the room.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in bed!” Blair exclaimed.
Jim sat down on Blair’s bed. “It’s Friday.”
“What?”
“You wanted us to talk.”
“Oh!” Blair blushed, embarrassed that he’d forgotten. “That.”
“And I thought, maybe you’d like someone to talk to, after everything that’s happened.”
“I don’t remember much, anything really, after the first explosion. We were in his room, and the ship just rocked. And the next thing I remember is waking up on the lifeboat with you.”
“I remember bits and pieces,” said Jim slowly. “After finding out about the missing student and Mason’s arms dealing in the Middle East, it wasn’t hard to figure out you were in danger. I remember some of the fighting, but it’s all fuzzy. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Not for the first time, Jim was glad Blair couldn’t tell when he was lying. He didn’t remember everything, but he did remember that Mason had sacrificed his life to save them. If Blair didn’t remember that, it was probably for the best right now. Jim could arrange to have the ‘memory’ return later.
Blair smiled weakly. “Thanks, Jim. I don’t deserve you.”
“I think you’ve got it wrong, Blair- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” Jim cut off Blair’s noise of protest. “Without you, I would be stuck in a padded room somewhere, or dead on the street. Maybe I would have been able to hold it together long enough to go back to Peru.”
Blair reached out and took Jim’s hand. “Do you still want me as a friend?”
Jim stared. In the metal headboard of Blair’s bed, he could see himself. Dark, sky-blue eyes. He looked down, at Blair. Deep, sea-blue eyes met his. ‘There is a place where the sky meets the sea, and that is where I wait for you.’ “Do you still want me as a lover?”
Blair nodded.
Jim’s mouth suddenly went dry. He swallowed, then leaned over and kissed Blair on the lips. Blair’s lips were dry from dehydration, but it still felt like touching heaven to Jim. Blair’s lips parted slightly, and his tongue slid out to trace the outline of Jim’s lips against his. Jim felt a sudden heat rise inside him, and he opened his mouth, accepting Blair into him.
The waiting was over.
Last Episode: Dulce et Decorum Est