A Path of Oak and Ash (28 page)

"Take it. Please." Beth pushed the book into Aurelian's hands. "It has brought me nothing but misery." She took one more look around what was left of her old life. "I want no more part in its tale." She mumbled mostly to herself.

"And yet you will never escape its story." He ran a reverent hand over the cover before tucking the item into his shoulder bag. "Ironic."

Quin growled, still kneeling he was eye level with Aurelian. "Show the girl some kindness Whisperer."

Bethany was somewhat surprised-and touched-the massive stranger was quick to defend her, however she didn't need defending. "He has. He has shown me nothing but." She smiled at Aurelian, then Quin. "It’s okay. Really."

Outside there was a loud howl. Then another. Similar to the sound wolves made on nature documentaries late at night in the deep woods. There couldn't possibly be a wolf in the city, someone had to have turned on the television...

"We've got trouble." Quin leapt to his feet, pulling a large sword off his back. Pressing firmly on the handle there was a clicking noise, the blade split into two identical slender pieces. He transferred one to his left hand flipping his wrists, the metal whirled in the air.
Who is this guy?
She wondered.

"Will you get her out of here?" Aurelian asked Quin, transforming the question into an order. Quin frowned, then rejoined his weapon into a single sword.  His free hand shot out, grabbing Bethany by her forearm. With a quick tug he moved her behind him.

"Time to go!" One of the men downstairs hollered, tone suggesting compliance was not optional. Another loud shout was drowned out by the sharp clash of broken glass.

"What of you?" Quin's skeptical gaze irritated Aurelian, it was obvious.

"I can find my own way," he grumbled, "regroup at the diner two blocks west. I'll order some food." With that he exited her room, turning left towards the master.
Is he going out the window?

"Stay close. Trust your instincts." He barked crossing the threshold out of her room.

"Why would I need..." Bethany trailed off as they reached the hallway. At the bottom of the stairs pale men in black leather were engaged in all out combat with Carrick and his friends. A stream of fire left the hands of the taller one closest to the door poised to hit the handsome blond with the daggers. He ducked at the last moment.

"Come on." Quin hissed, pulling on her hand, he led her down the stairs so quickly she almost fell. As they rounded the base, Erik threw one of them into the console table; broken wood, roses and water splashing against the marble floor at her feet. Not fazed by his injuries, the strange man leapt to his feet pulling some kind of gun from his coat. The sound of the weapon drowned out her senses, forcing her to navigate the chaos without auditory assistance. Mouths moved, things were being broken, yet only a deafening ringing lingered in her ears. One of the attackers turned toward her, his eyes seemingly void of iris', blackened teeth filed to points visible through his sneer, his gun raising towards her.

The redhead with the accent tackled him, a flash momentarily parted them as the weapon went off. Her savior took it in the side, blood visible on the back of his cloak. On impulse she wanted to rush to him to patch that wound but Quin yanked her arm towards the kitchen. As they ran through the formal room, Bethany noted with much pleasure the white sofa was riddled with bullet holes.

As a bullet hit the cabinet inches from her head, Quin practically pushed her through the kitchen and out the back door. Stumbling over the lip of the sliding glass door's track, she came face to face with something that scared her more than the gun fight inside.

Two massive wolves were poised and snarling in her back yard. The red one larger than a motorcycle, the black one that of a great dane. Eyes wide, she backed up until she bumped into Quin.

"We are going that way." He pointed forward, over her head.

"You're out of your damned mind!" Bethany hissed, she'd lived through too much already to be torn to shreds. Much to her chagrin, Quin walked past her right up to the black wolf. It calmed instantly, nuzzling against him almost like a pet.

"Please do not make me carry you." Quin frowned impatiently.

"Move move move!" Someone inside shouted moments before an explosion shook the ground. Bethany ran from the back porch, diving to the ground as the house was engulfed in flames.

38

Joseph Johnson kept his poker face as Steve Something and the India native- who's name escaped him entirely-walked into his new office. Setting down one of the thick manila folders that had recently been delivered to him as need to know, Joseph turned his attention to the wide eyed analysts standing awkwardly in the center of his office.

The pair couldn't look more removed from their natural habitat; dressed in jeans, oversized t-shirts heralding infamous science fiction heroes, their faces obstructed by thick lensed frames, ratty off brand sneakers upon his imported Abyssinian rug. If he had a sense of humor he would have found it comical.

"Initial reports from the New York Op have come in." The fatter one spoke in a nasally voice, pushing his glasses up on the brim of his nose approximately every forty five seconds.

Which was about how much time Joseph gave him before he prompted. "And?"

"Target a umm," he paused to flip through his papers, "Richard Smith, was traveling with four white males, early twenties, visual contact made outside of," Joseph was only half listening as the analyst rattled off the address and geocode of the location then went into a play by play of their successful tail of the group to the home of the deceased Elizabeth Waters. When the field agents had called it in from the Water's place they had been ordered to stand down. The Boss had specifically requested direct engagement was to occur using his 'specialized' resources. As much as those freaks disturbed Joseph Johnson, he had no choice but to comply with the mandate. "once the strike team arrived, field agents retreated as requested. No report was filed by the strike team, no telephone number was left for follow up contact either so we'll need to obtain that for our final report. The ah, fire department was dispatched to the address at approximately 7:05 PM Eastern. The event will be logged as a gas leak for public record. Four bodies were recovered from the scene, badly burned. So far police unable to ID; no prints, dental records match nothing on file."

"Ours?"

"Like I said, strike team has not checked in. Could be, could not be. Since this 'team' was above our pay grade we aren't privy to their dental, print or dna records.  Not that it matters, ME says all four vanished.  He's got only dirt and oil in his freezer."

"Do you have the camera surveillance from the area?" If he couldn't engage directly, he wanted eyes on the ground and in the air.

"We were able to pull from a four block radius." Joseph had already guessed that based on the massive file clutched in his tubby little arms.

"And?" His impatience multiplying as he took drag from the hand rolled.
Jesus this is going to be a long meeting
, he thought to himself.
Goddamned IT people are as skittish as deer.

"Look at this." After a bit of fumbling, he set an eight by ten photo on his desk. The black and white still showed a girl with short dark hair walking down the street, her face turned from the camera, body partially obscured by a larger man who was standing between her and the road. Her facial structure was undeniable. Elizabeth Waters was alive and well.

He cursed, the words leaving his lips in a fog of smoke. "Get me Frost. Now." Mr. Johnson barked.

The pair of analysts shifted their feet, refusing to make eye contact.

The one with the accent finally spoke. "That was the other item."  More throat clearing.  "Sir...Vincent Frost was found dead in his apartment. From the looks of it...he has been dead for a significant time frame."

"Five months." Chimed in the sweaty one, his hand darting up to re-adjust his glasses again.

"Out." There was no emotion in the command as he stubbed out the butt in the glass tray to his left.

"Sir, there is a positive though, we were able to trace the male's point of entry to a regional airport with the flight originating in Scotland. If you just give us a little more time we-"

Jaw clenched, Joseph did everything possible to maintain his calm. In his younger days he would have shot them both to shed his frustration. Even now the thought of it was tempting. He leaned forward in his chair, hovering his hand over the silver plated custom revolver on his desk. "Get out. Now." For a pair of overweight data analysts, they certainly managed to hobble from the room with surprising speed.

His hand shifted from hovering above the .45 to the cigarette holder beside it. Plucking another stick from the case he lit it with a steady hand. Inhale. Exhale. His nerves steadied while he watched the smoke hang in the dimly lit air all around him. Visible yet intangible, a microcosm of his current endeavors if there ever was one.

Joseph Johnson picked up the phone, dialing the number he was given upon his promotion and subsequent relocation. Never one to beat around the bush he rattled off exactly what had happened, verbatim.

"The imposter is of little consequence." His employer spoke in the King's English, his alto voice velvet yet sinister. "Complete your task, secure the targets."

"And if they manage to go off grid?"

"Do not worry. I will ensure they remain attainable." The feminine laugh in the background stood the hair up on the back of his neck, echoing in his ears long after the call had been terminated.

39

Sitting in the back corner booth with his nose buried in today's paper was Aurelian. Partially eaten strawberry crepe to his right, a freshly topped off cup of coffee in his hand.

Carrick marveled at the small man from the outside window as they approached the diner. Here they were, broken and bloody, barely keeping it together and he was having a luncheon. Erik had told him once that whisperer's typically were noncombatants and that earned them animosity from time to time from their peers. Well, Carrick was definitely feeling it at the moment.

Erik, Conall, Aodhan had escaped with him out the front moments before the explosion took the building. Carrick only prayed that Tadhg had made it out the back with Quin and Liz. The redhead had taken very nasty looking wounds to his torso. Carrick was worried for him. Really worried. He had meant to grab him, to make sure they both made it out in one piece, but the grenade that went off prior to the big boom had tossed him by the door and knocked the back of his head. If it hadn't been for Aodhan grabbing his arm, he probably would have burned himself.

Seeing stars was the least of his current injuries, in the tussle with the fell Carrick had broken at least two ribs, fractured his ulna and taken a good shot to the eye. His natural accelerated healing was doing its part, after Conall helped him set his arm he could feel it begin to knit the wound, however it wasn't an instant fix. He would still show, and feel, his injuries for a good two weeks. He wasn't the only one. Erik was still walking with a limp from the rot curse. Aodhan had burns on his back and shoulders, even lost part of his mahogany hair from the fire. Conall seemed void of injury yet his body was covered in the blood of others. All in all it took every ounce of strength they had left to hold on to their ruse of jeans and tee-shirts, less their bloody broken appearance horrify the hamburger eating humans.

A small chime greeted them to the Sock Hop Shake Shop, their thoughts immediately drowned out by the Monkeys pouring from the jukebox by the counter. A chalkboard sign requested that they seat themselves, so they did. Shambling towards the back off tempo to the upbeat tunes.

"What the hell was that?" Conall hissed as he sat down, resting his hands on the boomerang patterned red lacquer tabletop. "Fell in such numbers..."

"That," Aurelian paused to take a sip of coffee, "was what happens when you idiots are loosed upon the world."

"How dare-"

"Silence." Erik hissed, taking a seat next to Aurelian.

"See when you travel in a particular path without making the appropriate arrangements you provoke all the little snakes in the garden. They see you, the large portly rabbit hopping along, blissfully unaware you are being watched from every vantage point until the moment comes to strike." Aurelian eyed each of them with disapproval.  "We use Mimi for a
reason
you self-serving juvenile degenerates." Aurelian closed his eyes briefly, letting out a curse under his breath. "There is no going home right now."

"Why?"

Aurelian pointed to the mounted tube TV above the diner's bar. The reporter was standing at the edge of what appeared to be a hurricane, rain battering the camera and poor woman on screen. He wondered momentarily if all that electric equipment was safe when it was exposed to so much water. Surely they'd thought of that long before he did. His brow dipped at the words that appeared under the reporter, Miss Ellen McLaine was reporting live from Glasgow, Scotland. Carrick read the subtitles on the news cast, his mood darkening further. "A storm unlike any that has hit the island since 1703, as many as three hundred people are presumed dead. It will be days before the wreckage can be combed." The screen flashed from the on-scene reporter back to the brightly illuminated news room.  "In national news, Congress will vote today on the Transoceanic Pipeline that-"

"Whatta ya have boys?" Their glum moment was interrupted by Susie, according to her nametag. Her bright pink lipstick matched the piping on her snug turquoise and pink fifties style shirt dress, even had pink strings in her white sneakers.  Carrick fumbled with the menu, his eyes had been so focused on the TV he hadn't even bothered to see what they had.

"Coffee please." Erik ordered.

"Okay, and you sir?" Her eyes fell on Conall, a bit of blush creeping into her cheeks despite their visual age difference. 
If only she'd known Conall was actually far older than she was
.

"They'll all just have coffee if you would Susie." Aurelian answered for him in his typical cheer.  Carrick quietly closed his menu, wishing the small man would have ordered cheeseburgers.  He waited for the waitress to read back the order or respond, but she just stood there.

"Did you get that Susie?"  Aurelian prompted. 

She blinked quickly for a moment, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks while her professional smile returned. "You got it chief." Scrawling a few words on her pad she nodded, tucking the pen in her blond ponytail then bounded away.

"What was that about?" Carrick mused aloud.

"Conall has that effect on the ladies, not that he ever uses it." Aodhan teased the stoic druid.

"No, it’s the blood on your face." Erik glowered.  Carrick's eyes widened as he noticed Conall's skin. It was odd to view, one moment Conall looked perfectly fine, then parts of his face would shift into the bloody battered truth beneath his renaissance features for but the blink of an eye before returning to his typical serene visage.  If the waitress had seen that...

Conall touched his cheek, "I am sorry. I am having trouble holding onto my rouse, I do not mean to fail us." Conall looked ashamed, something Carrick had never seen.

Erik's harsh tone lessened. "You are just exhausted, as we all are. Go in the bathroom, clean up.  Then you do not have to hide." With his typical grace, Conall rose and excused himself to the bathroom.

Carrick continued to read the words on the monitor as they sat in silence awaiting their beverages. All travel had been suspended.  A known bank robber had just been apprehended.  Some dog learned to walk a tight rope while balancing a beach ball on his nose.  Oh how he had missed American fluff news.  By the time the chipper blond reporter began to recount the top stories of the hour he began to worry.  "They should be here by now." Carrick grumbled, scanning the empty street outside.

"I have the upmost confidence that Quin has kept my dear Bethany safe." Aurelian waved a hand, sipping his coffee.  With a hand, he waived down the waitress and ordered everyone a cheeseburger and fries, all medium-well. Exactly what Carrick wanted, making him wonder if whisperers had some sort of telepathic ability.  If so, he was going to have to seriously rein in his thoughts around the man.

Susie came back with their cups and a fresh pot of black Columbian ground just before Conall returned from the bathroom.

"Lorcan doesn't want us to get the book back to Dre'ien." Aodhan broke the silence, swirling the cup around in his hands.

"Indeed. This is a bold move. Even for him. We must be very, very careful from this point forth." Erik folded his arms over his chest, frowning.

Carrick noticed he had yet to make eye contact with him. It was like a game of cat and mouse to an extent, if he looked towards his uncle, his eyes would divert elsewhere. A telling sign of how much trouble he was in whenever they got home.

Susie returned with the food shortly after, piping hot and full of grease. It had been so long since Carrick had eaten this type of fare he'd expected it to fill him with nostalgia and leave him wanting seconds. Instead it felt grainy, heavily salted on his tongue, the grease seemed to slide down his throat and sit heavy in his belly. It left him feeling more disgusted than satisfied. Still with each bite he eyed the clock then the door. Still no Liz.

The waitress had started clearing plates when the cheerful ring of the chime announced the departure or arrival of patrons. A tall dark-haired man walked in beside a pretty girl with messy short dark hair, grass stains on her knees and wide eyes. Carrick raised a hand in a wave, happy to see both smile in return.

"Was starting to worry." He said, standing to give Liz-Bethany-a quick hug.  She smelled of soot and yard clippings.

"I wasn't." Aurelian quipped.

"Is Tadhg not with you?" Aodhan asked, paling.

Quin shook his head sadly. "No. Only the two of us made it out the back."

The fog of sadness that hung over them made the cheerful jukebox tune feel insulting. When the last note of the crooner’s ballad stopped, the record stuck, preventing the next song.

"Oh darn it, it always does that." One of the other waitresses complained, fiddling with the machine. Somewhere outside the diner, the sorrow filled howl of wolves echoed.

"Are you hungry Bethany?" Carrick asked quietly. She shook her head no, eyes locked on the patterned tabletop. Erik and Quin spoke quietly on the situation in Iona while the other's remained silent in their grief for the lost. Admittedly Carrick had not known Tadhg long, not even a full year, yet he felt the loss all the same. Kind hearted and always willing to do for others he was a shining example for the kind of person he strove to be. In many ways, Carrick blamed himself for his untimely death, had he not asked for help...

"What's the plan then?" Quin asked loudly, raising him from his brooding.

"Well we can't stay here." Aodhan retorted.

The whisperer pointed out the window to the street.  "Worry not my friends, like always, I have plan B ready and awaiting." As he spoke a large silver charter bus pulled up in front of the diner. Without a word to those assembled, Aurelian stood and exited the diner, disappearing up the bus steps. Quin paid their tab with a couple wadded up twenties as the others rushed to follow.

The large charter bus was impressive, the kind of thing you see dozens of old ladies with cameras and kitten sweaters climb into on their way to the Grand Canyon. The seats seemed plush, there were televisions overhead and a bathroom in the back. Aurelian, Bethany and Quin settled in on one side while Carrick and Aodhan sat across from them. Erik took over for the driver who was dismissed with a handful of 'incentive' pay, Conall sat up front right behind him.

"How do you afford all this?" Bethany mused aloud while the men settled in.

"Many years ago I happened upon an alchemist who was successful at his craft."

Bethany snorted at Aurelian. "Really, a man that could turn metal into gold?"

"Anything really; shoes, spoons, clothes. They made quite a tale about him once upon a time."

"Is it really so fetched for you?" The dark druid whispered to her.

Bethany shrugged. "Just contradictory to everything I've been raised to believe."

Quin smirked, "at the heart of every belief, is a lie."

Carrick frowned, he did not like the way Quin was sitting so close to her. For someone who loathed humans his eyes lingered on her smile longer than they should have, his tone was too non-Quin for his liking. Further, Bethany seemed to be eating it up. Her cheeks flushed, eyes dropped to her hands just as soon as he had finished speaking. Her hands...Carrick noticed with alarm how many scabs and bruises were fading from her wrists to her finger tips. Her nails, once so perfectly polished and long were ragged and partially removed. It wasn't just her hands. Now that the shock of her survival had worn off, he was able to observe her in depth. She'd lost weight, her smile once freely given seemed forced, even her breathing seemed shallow. Her neckline once hidden by long hair was visible it made her seem so thin, breakable even. He frowned, as she turned to listen to something Aurelian said faint bruising across that fragile skin came into view.

"What happened to you?" Carrick demanded loudly, cutting off the conversation in progress. All eyes immediately focused on him, Starless growled. He didn't care. He wanted answers and he wanted them right now.

When Bethany didn't speak, the dwarf did. "Perhaps now is not the best time for-"

Carrick pointed a finger at Aurelian. "Quiet. I asked her." He turned his intensity back to the girl, trying to dial back his anger. "Liz...please. Talk to me."

"I knew you didn't do it. The terrible things on the television, in the paper..." She took a deep breath. "Those reporters circled my house every day, spitting filth about you, trying to make me seem like some kind of serial killer's mistress. Each one promising a special with a more in depth look at the monster that was Richard Smith. It was hell, doubly so as I knew you wouldn't...couldn't do those things. I remember the look on your face when you saved me. That day at the seven eleven? Do you remember? You were so determined, so strong, even when you didn't look it. I told myself that day that you were a good guy and a good guy didn't do the things they said. A good guy couldn't." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry I'm rambling, eventually I convinced Matt we should go check it out. What we found confirmed my theory, your place was fine, and the apartment down the hall was ruined." She laughed darkly. "That's where I found the damned book, in a hole in the wall of all places. I researched the crap out of it over the next week, trying to determine the language or what it could be. Came up empty every time. To be honest it had started to give me the creeps, I knew I should turn it into the police but I didn't trust them. How could I with the lies on TV? So I did the only thing I could, I hid it. At least until I came up with a better plan."