Author: Derek

Anne

“Anne, would you please explain how you can read elvish?” Veronica asked warily.

“I don’t know,” Anne answered, dumbfounded. “I just looked and it just became understandable. Like I was remembering it.” Samantha peered into Anne’s eyes. Anne could feel the woman’s psychic touch in her mind. Odd memories came flooding up. Her fifth birthday party with that scary clown. Her prom date opening a limo door for her. Her father watching baseball on a hot summer afternoon. Ambushing the local bully with snowballs when she was ten. Then they stopped just as suddenly.

“Read the words again, please,” Samantha requested. Anne looked down at the white words on the small table. As she read them aloud, Samantha’s face scrunched in pain. When Anne said the last word, Samantha let out an anguished cry and fell to the floor. Veronica and Anne were at her side.

“Well, that didn’t go as well as planned,” Samantha said weakly as the other two helped her to her feet.

“What just happened?” Erik asked over the radio. “Is everyone alright?”

“We’re fine. Go back to your work,” Samantha answered. Then she turned to Anne. “I very much doubt you’ll be able to tell us why you can read elvish. There’s a part of your mind that is blocked from me. When you were reading, I followed the thoughts to that part, and then it slapped back my probes a bit harder than I expected.”

“Is it a magical or a psychic block?” Veronica asked.

“I’m not sure,” Samantha answered. “It isn’t recent though. That block has been in place before you hit puberty.”

“You can tell that?” Anne asked, astonished.

“I can,” Samantha answered. Her tone told Anne that it wasn’t a common ability among Avalonian telepaths. Samantha looked over at Veronica. “Let’s get this done.” Veronica nodded and went into the kitchen. She came back with a box of salt and proceeded to pour a circle around the table. Anne needed to spend some time with Veronica to figure out how this magic of hers worked. The small Indian woman murmured and the salt glowed with a warm white light that brightened up the living room. The table shook and wisps of what looked like brightly colored smoke floated out of the wood. Veronica stared intently at the wisps.

“They’ve done some magic since the killing. A communication spell, but not like one I’ve seen before. I think they were calling–” Veronica was cut off by a flash of light in the corner of the room. By reflex, Anne turned her flashlight on the source of the sudden light. A male voice cursed in a melodic language. She recognized that voice. Arem. Anne brought her submachine gun up towards Arem. She was thrown back as an invisible force smacked her in the chest. Pain flashed through her body as she hit the floor. Her body protested the continued abuse as Anne worked to get to her feet.

“SKAYLA!” Veronica shouted and a beam of brilliant blue shot from her hand. Arem, now clearly visible, waved his hand and the beam sparkled across an unseen shield. He turned his intense brown eyes on Anne, and her resolve melted away. Her arms lowered the weapon. No, she didn’t have to fight him. He could take away the pain. Then Samantha punched the elf in the face.

Anne felt her resolve snap back into place alongside a burning rage. What the hell had that damned elf done to her? Anne snapped up the submachine gun and fired a short burst at Arem. Small red holes appeared on the elf’s brown tunic. The elf spun and glared at her. Anne felt her resolve slipping, but her anger helped bolster her defenses. Anne lined up the floating red hologram on Arem’s face and pulled the trigger. His head snapped back as the nine millimeter bullets struck. The elf dropped to the ground and didn’t move. Anne kept the elf covered as she checked on Samantha.

“Are you okay?” Anne yelled at Samantha. Firing a gun indoors tended to deafen everyone in the room. The psychic nodded, but grimaced in pain as she cradled her right hand. Anne then moved to Arem. Except, as she neared, Anne could see that it wasn’t Arem. The resemblance was striking, but this elf was shorter by an inch or two. The hair was slightly different as well. Cautiously, Anne turned over the unmoving body. The unseeing face confirmed that it wasn’t Arem.

Anne spun as the door slammed open. Erik and Kurt stood in the doorway with MP9’s up and ready. Erik coolly observed the scene, but Kurt almost leapt to Anne’s side. The German’s submachine gun dangled on its sling while he enveloped Anne in a warm embrace. She wanted to revel in Kurt’s warmth and scent, but instead she pushed him away. The hurt or annoyance she expected to see in Kurt’s face never materialized. Instead, the concern went to a professional neutrality. There wasn’t even the subtle mocking in his posture. Why the hell did she have to find the one man that seemed to understand professional boundaries right before she was taken to another world?

“Do you have what you need?” Erik asked Veronica, satisfied that the area was secure. The sorceress nodded as she scrambled to her feet. “Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just forgot how much it hurts to punch someone,” Samantha answered.

“Extract and burn. Salt the earth,” Erik ordered. Kurt and Samantha walked to the door as Veronica started drawing symbols on the walls of the house.

“What do you mean ‘burn’ and ‘salt the earth’?” she asked.

“Burn this area with enough magic to destroy the ground’s link to wild magic,” Erik answered. “Keeps it from being used as a gate or to communicate with the Dark Towers.”

“What about him?” Anne asked, pointing to the dead elf.

“He’ll be gone in a few minutes,” Samantha answered. “No connection to this world anymore.”

“What about the neighbors?” Anne asked. “Shouldn’t we get them out as well?”

“We’ll call it in when we’re outside,” Samantha explained. “This won’t be any different from any house fire. You’re confusing magical intensity for physical.”

“We need to leave now,” Erik said with a strained patience, “I don’t know if your gunshot was protected by Veronica’s spell slinging tonight. I’d rather not deal with the local authorities again. They might actually start figuring things out that they shouldn’t.” Anne held her tongue as she followed the others out to the waiting van. Samantha used a burner phone to call in the fire as Veronica whispered an elvish word. Flame immediately engulfed the house like it was made of flash paper. Anne felt a pang of guilt as her murder scene was incinerated.

“Did we accomplish anything tonight?” Anne asked herself.

“More than you realize,” Samantha’s voice echoed in her head, “We found out who was responsible for your murders. Now, we just have to figure out who they are and deal with them before they can help Arem steal you.”

Erik

Growls from a dozen throats echoed up and down the deserted suburban street. A dozen pair of golden eyes shone from the shadows surrounding the house the team had come to see. Veronica leapt out of the van and drew a circle around her with chalk. A pale white light surrounded the young woman as she chanted in elvish. Erik slid out from his seat. He drew the stubby MP-9 submachine gun from under his coat. He could feel the animals’ barely contained rage. They felt like dire wolves, but there was something noticeably different.

“IKALA!” Veronica yelled and thrust her hands in front of her. A brilliant ball of red energy burst from her hands. The growls turned to yips of fear as the dire wolves scattered from the magic blast. In the glow of the ball, Erik could see the distinctive canine shapes about the size of small ponies. They may not feel like dire wolves, but they certainly looked like them. The ball dissipated harmlessly as it struck the house. The yips ceased instantly. The pack of dire wolves turned back to face the group. The limited emotions that Erik could sense went silent. Well, that wasn’t good.

Veronica just stood in her circle and gave a warm smile as the pack stalked back to the van. Erik unfolded the wire stock of the submachine gun and placed the glowing red hologram on the sight on one of the barely visible dire wolves. Sam was not going to like this one bit. Erik sensed as Kurt and Anne moved up to the flanks. The German was his normal solid rock. Anne was terrified, but determined. Each carried the same small submachine guns.

“Wait for Erik,” Kurt quietly advised Anne, “Once he fires, then hose those things.” The detective didn’t say anything, or at least, not where Erik could hear. Erik was waiting on the diminutive, chanting woman. He’d seen the spell she was slinging before. Those dire wolves were in for a nasty surprise if they thought her magic balls were harmless.

“VERONICA, HIT THEM!” Samantha yelled from behind the line. “Erik, don’t fire!” Veronica obliged her teammate by unleashing a second ball of brilliant red. This time, the dire wolves stood their ground and snarled. That lasted approximately one second after the energy ball consumed the lead dire wolf and incinerated it. The emotional silence from the dire wolves was shattered by a flood of strangely human terror. The remaining wolves scattered with a speed that no dire wolf could achieve. What the hell was going on?

“Erik, look!” Veronica said, as she pointed at the smoldering corpse of the dire wolf. Except, it wasn’t a wolf’s corpse. The still-hot remains were indisputably human. Veronica tentatively stepped out of her circle. She cautiously approached the remains. Kurt and Anna moved behind their sorceress.

“Oh God, that’s burnt human all right,” Anne said, coughing as she neared the corpse. “I’ve smelled that particular odor enough times.”

“Glamour?” Erik asked as Veronica as he joined them. Sam walked up next to him and gripped his upper arm. As a telepath, Sam was always the worst effected in a fight. She could sense the thoughts of the dying. Erik wrapped his arm around his friend and gave her a reassuring hug.

“I’m not seeing the ghosts of a glamour spell,” Veronica answered, examining the body. “It’s almost as if he had wild magic actually bound to him. More wild magic than should’ve been available on this side of the gate. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Could it have been a werewolf?” Anne asked.

“A what?” Erik asked.

“No. Those don’t exist,” Veronica answered, “The tales of monsters were either a summoner bringing in monsters from Avalon, bargainers using their new-found powers to shapeshift, or natural phenomena being misinterpreted by the uninformed. Actual howl at the moon, vulnerable to silver werewolves are just fairy tales.”

“Okay, so what were those things?” Anne asked.

“Something new from the Dark Towers,” Erik answered, his unhappiness tinging his voice. “I wonder if Arem’s been reading Earth monster lore.” He thought on that for a moment. “Let’s get this cleaned up and get to what we came here for. Anne, would you please take Veronica and Sam up to the house so that they can examine the murder scene. Kurt and I will clean up this mess.” He motioned to the corpse.

“Okay,” Anne answered, and then led the two women up to the house. Kurt looked down at the now smoking remains with disgust.

“How exactly are we going to clean this up?” Kurt asked.

“Go get the silver bag,” Erik answered, “And hurry up before Anne can see what we’re doing.”

Anne

Anne walked up the familiar sidewalk to the dark house. It was a typical suburban house. Nothing to make it stand out from the rest of the houses down the street. Well, except for the yellow police tape across the front door. Veronica waved her hand at the door, and it quietly swung open. Anne pulled out her flashlight and motioned for Samantha and Veronica to follow her inside.

Anne could remember coming into this house the first time when the murder was discovered. That time, the quiet street was lit up with a dozen police cars and the two vans of the crime scene techs. Nearly twenty uniformed police officers were busy sealing the area up and doing a canvas by the time Dale and her pulled up. She knew it had been bad when her name got pulled out of rotation. Her captain knew she had a knack for the weird ones.

“Where was the body found?” Veronica asked.

“Down here, in the living room,” Anne answered. She could remember the uneasy faces of the officers that were first on scene. She had walked into the living room, and it was much worse than she expected. It was also the first time she realized it was connected with another suspicious death. One that had been thought to be the work of animals. It was almost the exact same crime scene.

It was the odd scent in the air that alerted Anne something was off. It was a sickly perfumed scent that shouldn’t have been in the house. No one should have been in here except for police, and they wouldn’t be burning incense. Anne drew the MP9 from under her coat and motioned for the other two to fall back.

“No one’s here,” Samantha said, “At least, not now.” Anne arched her eyebrow in question. Samantha just pointed at her head. Oh yeah, psychic. Anne was still getting used to that. Anne lowered the submachine gun, but kept it out as the three women walked into the crime scene. At the center was something. It looked like a collection of odd shapes. As they neared, Anne saw it was a wood plank on top of two stones to form a small table. White symbols covered the table in concentric circles. No, not symbols. They were words in some language that Anne knew she’d never seen before. So why could she read them?

“Upon our souls, we bargain for the power. We pay the cost willingly. We offer the payment for the contract,” Anne read. Veronica and Samantha both froze. Anne turned to see the shocked faces on the women’s faces.

“Anne, would you please explain how you can read elvish?”

Anne

Anne hated getting pushed around in a wheelchair. She was perfectly capable of walking out of the hospital, but no, they had stupid rules that didn’t make a damn bit of sense. The orderly at least seemed apologetic about having to do the chore. As her frustration built, Anne took a long, deep breath. At least they were letting her out. There’d been some discussion by the docs that maybe they should keep her in the hospital for her own safety.

“Here you go Detective,” the orderly said as he pushed her outside. “Did you have someone coming to pick you up?” She looked around. Anne was expecting Kurt. He’d left that morning to talk to Jason, but Anne was sure he’d be back in time to pick her up. If not, Dale should’ve at least come.

“Yeah, but they must be running late,” Anne answered. She reluctantly reached into her purse. Maybe it was time to call her folks. Of course, if Anne called them, there was a good chance that she wouldn’t be leaving their house anytime soon.

“Do you want me to wait with you?” he asked.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she answered, pulling out her phone. Before Anne had a chance to punch in her lock code, a limousine pulled up. A tall, stately woman gracefully exited out from the back as the driver hurried over to Anne’s wheelchair. The orderly, satisfied that his duty was done, fast walked back into the hotel. Anne could only stare at the smiling face of Mrs. Maritza Holland.

“I hope you don’t mind that I came to pick you up,” Mrs. Holland said, “I wanted to talk with you, and Mr. Schneider is being detained by your colleagues.” Anne’s heart skipped a beat. Had Jason arrested Kurt? Was he coming for her next? The driver eased Anne out of the wheelchair and escorted her to the back of the limo. Mrs. Holland took over and helped Anne sit down in one of the supple leather chairs.

“Take us to Antoine’s, Charles,” Mrs. Holland told the driver before turning back to Anne. “From what the news reported, I doubt much of your wardrobe survived. We’ll have to do something about that.”

“Why are you doing this, Mrs. Holland?” Anne asked, “The last time I saw you, you had armed men pointing weapons at me. And you weren’t very happy with Erik’s mission surrounding me.”

“My problems with Erik have nothing to do with you,” Mrs. Holland answered, “How would you feel if you find out that the FBI was investigating a homicide in your city without even telling you?” Anne nodded her head in understanding. That explained a lot. “There are other issues I have with that man, but I’m mature enough to realize my biases and try to overcome them.”

“What other issues?” Anne asked.

“You’ll find out about all of that once he’s gotten you back to the Saint,” Mrs. Holland answered.

“Who?” Anne asked.

“Jaegar’s boss,” Mrs. Holland answered. “Now, what I want to know is what exactly happened at your apartment.” The older woman’s blue eyes seemed to bore into Anne.

“I’m not sure that I should. At least not until I talk with Samantha,” Anne said. She wasn’t sure where Mrs. Holland fit into Avalonian politics or their intelligence services. Anne half-expected the older woman to erupt in fury, but instead a warm smile crossed Mrs. Holland’s face.

“I understand your hesitance, Detective, but Agent Hart is busily helping keep Jaegar alive,” Mrs. Holland answered. “In the meantime, I have the American government asking me pointed questions about a possible, illegal operation on their soil. I need to know what happened if I’m going to protect you, Jaegar, and his team.” Anne looked hard at Mrs. Holland. The older woman wasn’t lying to her, or even trying to deceive her. Anne told Mrs. Holland everything that had happened in the past two days. Sweet mother, had it only been a couple of days?

“And you’re sure Jaegar wasn’t lying to you when he said he didn’t know what your attacker was?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“No, he wasn’t lying to me,” Anne answered, “Do you know what it could’ve been?” Mrs. Holland shook her head.

“No, and that concerns me,” Mrs. Holland answered, “Jaegar’s been doing this so long, if he doesn’t know, it must be something new from the Dark Towers. With Arem’s appearance on this side of the gate…” Mrs. Holland let the thought trail off. “Let’s get you into some new clothes and then I’ll drop you off with the team. My attorneys should have Mr. Schneider out by then.”

Erik

Sam was going to kill him when they got back to the safehouse. Veronica’s magic managed to put him back together. The pain that shot through his body with every movement told him that her healing wasn’t quite complete. For the moment, though, Sam was content enough to glare at him from the seat next to him. That, he could deal with.

Kurt and Anne were chatting in the front of the van as the team drove to the second murder site. Veronica was sitting on the floor in some sort of trance. She was murmuring a low chant of what sounded eerily like elvish. Erik didn’t understand all of the intricacies of magic on this side of the gate. Hell, he barely understood it on his own side. That said, he knew that it took a pretty strong and capable spell-slinger to accomplish what Veronica had on this side of the gate. When Veronica told him that she needed to “center” herself because she’d “thrown her aura slightly out of sync with this realm,” Erik was experienced enough to let her do what she needed to. Now, if she could just quit following him around with those puppy dog eyes. He was trying to be nicer, because Sam asked him. He wasn’t sure if he was succeeding. Sam was too pissed off that he was accompanying them on this jaunt for him to ask.

“Okay everyone, we’re here,” Anne announced as the van parked on a darkened street. “I’ll go make sure that there isn’t anyone still at the crime scene. I’ll call you when you can come up. Will she be ready?” Anne nodded her head at the chanting sorceress.

“She said she would be,” Sam answered. Anne looked unconvinced, but she started to walk over to the house.

“STOP!” Veronica bellowed in an unearthly voice, “DO NOT APPROACH THE HOUSE!” Veronica jumped out of the van into a fighting stance. Bright white energy swirled around her hands.

Surrounding them, golden eyes glared out from the darkness.