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Act1 Book 9 REFLECTIONS OF FATE

Prologue: End of the Beginning

Sunday, September 5, 2049 - 9:52am New Atlantis ...

Doctor Aris Falcon was a tall man with ambitious eyes. He typically wore business dress attire and today was no different - a black tailored suit, black vest and slacks, with a contrasting white necktie and matching white lab coat overtop. He walked calmly through a rectangular room with glass chambers on either side, frosted over so that the casings were somewhat opaque.

The doctor counted his trophies - thirty-seven supernatural beings with unique or interesting supernatural abilities. There were more in another room, but this room was his 'trophy room.' It was comprised of those who attacked him, but were worth researching later; those who had abilities he could not steal but wanted - these were the bodies frozen in time in this room.

He stopped in front of the newest one and peered in through the foggy shroud on the glass cover. Fox Parker stared back with a blank, half-lidded expression.

A smile found the doctor's lips. "Not as clever as your name now, are you?"

Falcon glanced at an adjacent tube and wiped away a layer of condensation. Inside was Fox's aunt, Nichole Parker, nearly the same age as her neighboring nephew.

Aris turned away from the cryostasis tubes and walked back through the room towards the exit. He took the stairs up to a private office and sat down at his desk. The doctor checked his watch and waited for two minutes.

On cue, the door across the office opened and Vincent Nevada stood in the door frame. "I need a moment of your time."

Falcon smiled. "Is this about your wife, Topaz Parker?"

"Topaz Nevada, doctor. With all due respect, she is my wife. I need to know - did you harm her?"

"I did nothing to harm her. And your hard work over these last twenty-five years is deserving of the truth - I have impregnated her with Fox's sperm sample. He is frozen, your wife is in a medically induced coma."

"Doctor..."

Falcon continued, "It appears her children may be yours but you know I've always needed a child belonging to the siblings."

"You know we've always had a relationship."

"I did," said Falcon. "But my initial intel on the matter suggested that Carmen was Fox's daughter. And when she came of age, I took her."

"You let her break in."

"I did," Falcon replied with a nod. "And for a time, we had her. She was slippery, and managed to escape with the help of Elvena Loupe."

Vincent licked his lips, apprehension marring his expression. "Elvena was her childhood friend. Topaz even trained Elvena how to do some of the things the Parker family was known for."

"I managed to put _that_girl down, knowing I would eventually need her when the succubus comes back again."

"I see. So Carmen ... escaped? I haven't seen her."

"She's obviously hiding on the surface by now, Vincent. And I now know she's yours."

Vincent said nothing.

"Clever, how you conspired to trick me by having children with Topaz and faking a paternity test. But I'm a patient man. Topaz will bear the son of Fox in a little over nine months and that child will open the city beneath the ocean floor when he or she comes of age."

"Doctor, you already have access to the Capital of the First Age."

"Most of the city," Falcon corrected. "Since 1999, I have been planning this. I helped Sinopa and Jon Parker have children. I genetically engineered the children to be chimera so that the twins were not genetically related, but made it so they would be attracted on a hormonal level. But apparently the pheromones failed."

Vincent said nothing, letting the doctor rant about science.

"I altered their genetics, and wanted them to have children so that their DNA would create a child. Why?" Falcon raised his voice. "DO you know why, Vincent? Because the governing leader of the First Age made an executive order sealing off the heart of the city before it sank into the sea! Only that man can rescind the order! The computer will identify that man as the one who gave the order! But a clone will not work! I tried fifty-five years ago, when I first found the city! Fifty-five years ago, Vincent! And the computer recognized my first creation as a clone, not biologically created! So I set off to find a way for this man to be reborn! And now I have to wait at least twenty more years for this child to grow into an adult!"

"There must be another way into the heart of the city," Vincent said with a frown.

"No." Falcon narrowed his eyes. "There is not. That's why I funded the digs in 2011 beneath Colorado and Virginia. We found the outer First Age Capital city townships roughly three miles below the surface. We tried to find ways to learn more about their technology, and stole the power cores. It led to two earthquakes in August of 2011. But, no, in the end ... the only way into the heart of the capital is to recreate the man who was the governor of that city. Thank God I obtained his pure DNA code from that ancient culture's database."

Vincent closed his hands into fists. "DO I get my wife back when she gives birth?"

"Do not take a tone with me," Falcon snapped. "You're lucky I still need you."

"What if ... what if I told you something that would make it so you don't have to wait? Would you promise to give her back to me?"

"If you're talking about time travel, it's a myth."

"No." Vincent fidgeted. "I want to make a deal. If you wake her up and let me have her, even if it's how you kept Evan, I will tell you."

"Is that so...?"

"Fox, too."

Falcon thought for a moment. "Fox stays frozen. One Parker is difficult to contain. Two would be impossible."

"Then just my wife."

Falcon eyed Vincent for a moment, giving the ultimatum some thought. "Fine. What is it that you think I'd be so interested to know? If your information is worth it to me, I'll wake her up today. But she stays pregnant. She'll be less likely to cause problems in that condition. Also, I would want her medicated to keep her docile."

Vincent looked down, trying to summon up the courage to betray the trust of his wife and husband. He took a deep breath, wanting his loved ones back. And then, all at once, the words just spilled out. "Conner is Fox's son."

Falcon eyed Vincent, trying to see if he could spot a 'tell' in the man's facial expressions. After a moment, the doctor nodded. "I'll wake Topaz. But, as I said, she's already pregnant. As a doctor, I do not believe in abortions."

"I abhor abortions, but ... that surprises me. You've had no problems killing in the past."

"That was different. I consider those deaths to be a matter of self-defense, Vincent."

"I ... understand. So Topaz stays pregnant?"

Aris nodded. "She'll have the child ... as a backup as it were."

"You'll wake her? Right away?"

"I'm a man of my word." Falcon nodded. "We'll talk more about this later on. Go on about your morning duties."

"I ... thank you, Doctor."

"Mm. Thank you for your honesty. I'm only sorry it took so long for you to tell me the truth. Now go on." Falcon picked up the phone receiver on his desk and pressed a button to call the head of his research laboratory. A moment later he said, "I'll be coming down shortly. I want to revive Topaz Parker."

Falcon hung up with his right index finger, keeping the receiver against his head. He dialed another number. The line rang twice, and then answered. Aris cleared his throat and said, "Cunningham, I want you to modify the cell we used for Evan Balmoral. Prepare it to contain Topaz Parker, and add in amenities necessary for a pregnant woman. Renovate it to be larger, and act as a living space - like a small condo. She'll be living there for a while and I do not want her to be uncomfortable, but I need it to be secure. Have it ready by the end of the week. Also, I want her fitted with a tracking ankle bracelet. Fashion the device from orichalcum so she cannot break it."

X

X

Monday, September 6, 2049 - midday Egypt ...

Karla Anne Loupe gazed into the reflection of an opulent mirror hanging on the wall of a decadent hotel room. Her lengthy blond hair curled at the end, brushing against her elbows. Her rich, bright emerald eyes looked almost as if they were colored contact lenses. Her lips were painted in a carnation coloration that matched her lacquered nails.

Her white blouse and plaid-printed skirt made it appear as though she could have been a student at a Catholic high school. Equally, she appeared to be around the age of fifteen, despite having the eyes of a mature woman. She held herself with an air of charisma and confidence rarely found in someone younger than thirty.

She shifted her shoulders to the left, then back to the right, looking herself over. Karla picked up her handbag from a nearby hotel bed and shouldered the strap.

A small animal, the size of a ferret, climbed out from within, scampered up her forearm and came to rest on her shoulder. The weasel-like creature had the face, markings, and tail of a fox, but was rather small in size.

"Oh there he is," she said in a childishly playful voice. "There's my Kuda! So handsome, oh yes he is."

"Please," said another woman's voice from behind. "Do not speak baby talk to him. You spoil him."

Karla grinned in reply, bringing her fingers up and rubbing her nails against the bottom of the animal's jawline. "Yes I do," she said in the same tone as before, "I baby talk my little baby boy, yes I do, and he loves it, doesn't he?" Karla turned to face the other woman.

Sinopa Guillot, a Japanese Shinto messenger spirit known as a kitsune, reached her right hand to her left and fidgeted with her wedding ring. She offered Karla a wistful sigh, followed by a look of pure frustration. "And, you'll make him fat with the jerky treats you keep feeding him."

Sinopa had long, straight red hair. Atop of her head, two triangular orange fox-ears perched upon her skull. The left one flitted listlessly in irritation. Her amber gaze narrowed, and her pupils became vertical slits. She appeared Irish, not Japanese, but dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono and walked with dignity and grace, combined with the small stature of an Asian woman. "My kind typically prefers to keep a kanko fox stored in a bamboo pipe. You let him ride 'shotgun' on your shoulder, and nest in the bottom of your handbag - you're spoiling him."

"What's that?" Karla asked, leaning her head towards the animal perched on her shoulder. She furrowed her brows then, pretending to translate, announced, "Kuda says you're being mean to the Round Eye. Cool it, Foxy."

Sinopa sighed and shook her head. "Unlike humans, I am not racist. I never cared for the terms 'round eye' or 'slant eye.' It's childish." The Shinto messenger spirit clenched her jaw, trying not to lose her patience with Karla. "Furthermore, only Tamamo-no-Mae, his owner, can understand his chittering. I require you to focus, Karla-san."

Karla shrugged and replied with a Cheshire grin. "So, are we really here to find that lady-creature who was seen on those internet videos?"

"Hai, Karla-san. Her name is Sekhmet. Tamamo-sama will meet us soon. And then we will find the Egyptian deity somewhere in this area."

"Yeah I thought Tamamo would be here by now. Raul said that the group would be on the island for two or three days. It's been, like, a week."

"Be patient. I am hopeful we will find Sekhmet without Tamamo-sama's assistance. The pupil relishes in accomplishing tasks without the aid of the sensei."

"So, I've been trying to figure something out." Karla sat down on the bed, keeping her back straight so that the small pet could easily remain perched on her shoulder. "First, let me get this straight - God gave the human soul the ability to create celestial beings?"

"Hai, Karla-san. That is how I exist. I am sustained by the faith of Shinto worshippers, over one hundred fifty million strong."

"The more people that believe in a god, the stronger that god becomes? And so humanity creates its own protectors?"

"Hai, that is correct."

Karla tilted her head somewhat. "Okay, so my question is ... if people believed in a succubus when I was younger, then why didn't I turn into the mythological-yet-flawed version of what people believe a succubus should be? Why didn't I grow bat wings and a devil's tail, huh?"

"Because, Karla-san, people do not know you exist, and you were not born as such. Because succubae and incubi were never deities to begin with. And people disagree on what a demon is. Some say a demon is an evil spirit that inhabits a body. Some say it is an imp-like creature. An artist rendition wasn't enough to create mythological sex demons the way in which you speak. Though it may be possible some demons lived in the Dark Ages. I imagine they were destroyed in the Crusades."

"Meh."

Sinopa continued. "Your people were born as part of a bloodline during the First Age. Your ancestors had their immortality stripped away as a punishment. And, later, your people attempted to genetically engineer their bodies to regain their immortality. But, as I understand, it didn't work correctly?"

"You sound like the beginning of a novel, bringing up redundant information we both already know. I hate when novels do that to bring readers up to speed, especially when it happens in a book that's really late in a series. I just want to wring the author's neck and be, like, 'Yo, writer, I've just read eight or nine novels with the same damn character - I'm totally familiar with everyone, already! Don't do that stuff; it kills the mood, dipshit!' Christ, I swear."

"What are you talking about? I am making conversation, Karla-san - it's my way of making sure I understand your ancestry. Was I correct or not?"

Karla nodded. "Yeah. You were on the mark, Red," said the succubus, referring to the kitsune's long, straight, vermillion hair. "Basically my ancestors tried to fix what was taken away. But we didn't patch the genetic code the right way, or ... whatever. So my kind needs something found in the sexual release of other beings. I'm not exactly sure what it is. But we need it several times a week or we start aging."

"Please excuse me, Karla-san. It is just ... I find that fascinating."

Karla shrugged with indifference. "But vampires are the same way. They started as a family that was punished during the First Age. They lost their immortality as a punishment for some reason or another."

"Mm, aggressive behavior."

Karla continued. "They tried to use technology to reverse what was engineered into their genetic code but it didn't quite work. Instead, they need to drink blood in order to absorb something found in hemoglobin or something. That's the only way they maintain their immortality. Funny how science explains mythological creatures like vampires and succubae, but it takes faith_to explain _your people. Hell, I want to be a goddess."

Sinopa smirked. "If you wish to be a goddess, you need to make yourself known to humanity, far and wide. And when you die, their faith will resurrect you in the Celestial Realm. That is how Hercules became an Olympian god. That is how Christ returned after three days. Apparently far more than twelve people believed He was godly. Whether or not His worshipers publically stated their belief, these followers obviously did believe."

"I'd love to be a goddess. That would be awesome."

"Karla-san," Sinopa shook her head with a frown. "Deities are banned from the Earth due to the treaty with the supernatural humans. The Esoteric Council has always been strict on that matter. Only messenger spirits - those created by the faith and imagination of humans - are allowed to go between the two realms. And only those of us who are not powerful enough to be feared by the supernatural community. Once my fifth tail comes in, the treaty states I will have to live my life in the other realm."

Karla grinned, folding her hands. "That's because gods are drama. The Olympians loved wars, and having sex with humans, and fighting with each other. Thor and other Norse gods were the same way. They loved wars and battles, and they loved to incite drama. No wonder they were banned."

Sinopa shook her head. "Our kind are created, sustained and fueled by the beliefs of humanity. Humans, with their big imaginations and their story telling, are very dramatic. Our kind acts a certain way because we are created in the image of our worshippers. We are as we were created. Now that the Esoteric Council is nearly non-existent, gods and goddesses are free to walk amongst humans again should they find a way here."

"You really think it's wise to befriend a warrior goddess with the head of a lion? Mythology states she killed thousands of Egyptians. That makes her a terrorist."

Sinopa sat down on the bed besides the succubus. "And a powerful ally. Sekhmet no longer has the faith of millions. Therefore she will no longer be too powerful to control. However, she will be powerful enough to help us fight."

"Uh, have you heard the news, Sinopa?" Karla shifted her weight, turning to face her friend. "This woman is killing Muslim men left and right. She's leaving a trail of bodies everywhere she goes."

"Hai. She needs us to give her direction. If we focus Sekhmet's rage towards Aris Falcon and his people, we can stop him before it's too late."

"Before what's too late?" asked Karla.

"If Falcon's followers project him to godly status, he will be reborn as a deity should he die. And then, with all his stolen powers, he will be nearly unstoppable."

"Shit." Karla frowned. "Yeah. I hope Tammy-Fox gets here soon. We need to find your cat-head buddy and build a team."

"Hai. And please, do not refer to Tamamo-no-Mae as Tammy-Fox."

Karla shrugged, causing Kuda to shift his weight on the succubus' shoulder. "Hon, why are you in a body yet Tamamo needs to steal the body of someone else?"

"Because, Karla-san. Tamamo-sama was killed in the physical realm in 1155. She lives on as a spirit. That spirit needs to inhabit a host body anytime she leaves the Celestial Realm."

"Right. So she's living here in someone else's body right?"

"Hai, what is your point?"

"So she needs an alias. So she gets to be Tammy-Fox. Don't hate."

Sinopa shook her head. "How did I let myself end up here?"

"You flew out here because Tammy asked you to, duh."

"No, Karla-san. That is not what I meant. I am lamenting how I let you talk me into coming along on this trip. I require you to act professional yet you insist on being as childish as possible."

"I am not. _You're_the childish one."

"Believe what you wish."

"Oh, c'mon, I'm just kidding with you." Karla gave Sinopa's knee a gentle pat. "Who do ya love, Sin?"

"Karla," Sinopa groused with a shake of her head.

"Exactly!"

"I..." She narrowed her eyes at the succubus. "That is not what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah. You love me. I know it. Everyone loves me. So ... what's the plan?"

"We find her and utilize the headdress."

Karla laughed. "We slap this headdress on your buddy, Sekhmet, and she transforms into Hathor, wife of Ra, and protector-goddess of women?"

"Sekhmet suggested to Tamamo that she requires her headdress. It is possible that is what helps with her transformation."

Karla shook her head. "Do your people even read the mythology about yourselves?"

"I do not understand what you mean."

Silvery peels of effeminate laughter rang from the succubus. She shook her head and reached up, bringing Kuda into her lap. The sex demon ran her fingers over the small animal's pelt and gently scratched behind his ears. "Sinopa, honey, Sekhmet is the original Incredible Hulk. She's the original Mr. Hyde. Don't get me wrong, I don't think Stan Lee or Robert Stevenson intentionally tried to copy Sekhmet and Hathor's split personality transformation situation. But I believe she's one of the first to be known as both a mad monster and a gentle, peaceful person."

"I ... am not familiar with the people you have mentioned. No matter - I do not care who they are. Just tell me, what is your point, Karla-san?"

Emerald eyes shined with mirth. Karla gave Sinopa's knee a firm pat and said, "Foxy, we have to look at mythology to bring Sekhmet under our control."

"How do you suggest we do such a thing?"

"I looked it up on the internet." A devious smile tugged at Karla's pink-painted petals. She waggled her brows suggestively. "We get her drunk."

"Oh my..."

X

X

Chapter -1- Beginning of the End

Wednesday, September 1, 2049 - (last week) Washington State ...

Jackson, a slim yet muscular man with angry eyes, slammed his bloody hacksaw on a workbench and ground his molars together in frustration. He turned back to face a pale white man with two-day-old facial scruff and a dingy black lamb-skin jacket.

Jackson's eyes lowered from the man's bloody neck, where the wound healed with ease, to the wooden stake in the man's chest. The sharpened piece of wood slowly pushed itself free, inch by inch, until dropping into the man's lap.

Jackson clenched his hands into fists. "Vampires are supposed to die from a stake to the heart and from cutting off their head. You healed the wound as fast as I could saw through your spine. And now that little trick with ejecting the stake. What the hell are you?"

"I told you," said the man, his voice hoarse while his vocal folds mended. He cleared his throat several times to rid the blood that ran down the back of his throat. He spoke again, but his voice still sounded strained from having blood on his vocal cords. "I am a vampire. But we're not exactly as mythology paints us."

Jackson opened and closed his hands, trying not to be nervous in front of the man tied to a chair in the living room of a cluttered cabin. Jackson began pacing. He kicked some of the debris from his path, stalking through the razzed room, which had been nearly destroyed during the recent battle between werewolves and were-tigers.

Like the feline hybrid that he was, Jackson held his hand towards the vampire and caused his fingernails to extend like a cat's claws. "So killing you won't work. We'll have to settle for torture. Answer my questions: You knew what that shadow pillar was. I saw it in your eyes during the fight. What was it and how did it kill Dakota with such ease?"

"Oh, did it kill your pathetic little leader?" asked the vampire. "Terribly sorry to hear it."

Jackson swiped at the vampire's face, leaving four deep gashes, which healed in mere seconds. Blood rolled down the man's cheek and trailed along his jaw, but the flow of blood stopped when the gashes healed.

"Does that not hurt, leech?"

"It all hurts," said the vampire, his voice starting to clear somewhat. "What is your name?"

"I'm asking the questions here," Jackson snapped. "Tell me about the shadow object."

"Negative energy. It absorbs light and can grow from shadows. It has mass, but is not exactly comprised of matter in the usual sense. Yes, I've seen it before - many times. Rufus and I have powerful associates."

"Rufus is your friend?" asked Jackson. "Since when does a vampire 'hang out' with a werewolf?"

"Since we became friends. The shadow man has a name. He calls himself Eric."

"What is _your_name?" asked Jackson.

"You first."

Jackson roared in the vampire's face but received no response. The tiger, in his human form, sighed through his nose. After a moment, he composed himself, sighed again, then said, "Jackson."

"Kalen Kincade." The vampire jerked his head to the left, throwing his matted, dingy black hair away from his eyes. "Let me get this straight: you couldn't torture me for information, and so you decided to kill me. When that failed, you thought it'd be easier to go back to torture? Three strikes - as much as I dislike making sports euphemisms, I do believe it applies, here."

"More like a foul ball at the end. I did get your name, and you did admit you knew about the shadows, and the man who controls them."

"I'm only too happy to tell you about Eric. You didn't ask about the shadows earlier."

Jackson narrowed his eyes. "So what else do you feel like sharing, Kalen?"

"I feel bad for you, Jackson. Not literally - I don't have any compassion for you, because you attacked a village and took the lives of innocent people. But I feel bad for you because you're going to die soon. So, on that note, ask whatever you like. I'll tell you truthfully to make up for the fact you won't be alive long enough to share."

"Is that so? Fine. My first question is, tell me one possible way that I could walk out of here alive, since you're the one being so honest, now."

"You turn around and walk out the front door. Then you run as hard as your body is able. That is the only way you live."

Jackson scoffed. "You're tied to a chair."

"So I am."

"Fine. Since you're deciding it's time to be truthful with me, why did decapitation not kill you?"

Kalen arched his brows somewhat. "You took too long doing it. Using a hacksaw is painful. Certainly the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I assure you I'll lose sleep over that. I dare say I'm probably still in shock over it happening because I get rather calm when I'm in shock. But your slow cutting gave my body time to heal in the wake of your saw. Vampires die from a quick, clean slice. I thought you wanted answers about your botched attack on the village, or what happened to your little friend, Dakota ... or what happened to Rufus Darken?"

"I don't care about Rufus anymore. Stupid werewolf scum. But you're going to tell me where the survivors went. Where is their fallback point?"

Kalen shrugged gingerly. "I honestly do not know."

Dakota brought his claws out again, only this time he unleashed them on both hands. "Why are you being so smug with me, when you're the one who is about to die?"

Kalen pulled his hands free from behind the chair. "Because I couldn't die from your injuries, Jackson, what makes you think I couldn't break my own thumbs to escape your handcuffs? I'm smug because I've been free for several minutes, now. You should have run. You ruined my jacket."

Jackson backed away, keeping his claws aloft. "When did you manage that? Christ, how much punishment can your body take?"

"I did it while you were sawing into my throat," Kalen said, eyes narrowed. As he spoke, his voice continued to clear, becoming less gritty than earlier. "Unimaginable pain - I broke both of my thumbs and felt nothing, because all I could focus on was the feeling of your saw chewing through my spine and my throat. So help me god, I'll never forget that. But you know what _will_ease my pain?"

"You ... you goddamn blood sucker."

"No," said Kalen. "Ask me."

"W-what will ease your pain?"

"Closure - knowing you won't have a second chance to saw into my throat." Kalen dove forward. His thumbs were still crooked, broken. The vampire placed his palms against either side of Jackson's face before he could transmute into his were-tiger form.

Jackson felt the quick sting of fangs pushing into the flesh of his neckline, followed by a surprisingly blissful sensation wash over his body. Jackson's knees buckled and he dropped to all fours but the vampire moved with him, never letting go.

It was the strangest feeling of delight and relaxation. Jackson felt as though he'd been drugged. His muscles gave out and he fell over onto his side. The vampire's hot breath against his throat was an ironic contrast to that of cool palms and cold lips.

Jackson began to feel something else overtop the euphoria ... he began to feel cold. He brought his arms close, over his chest. He drew his knees up, in a fetal position. The cold was followed by ... weariness. It was hard to keep his eyes open. Jackson struggled to stay awake.

And then ... he felt himself beginning to die. It was relaxing, calm; it was far more serene than he'd imagined. It felt like falling asleep. Before long, he struggled to tell the difference between the peacefulness and the regret of not doing more with his life. It all faded to a dark blur.

For Jackson, he felt overwhelming nothing. His body died. His mind raced to show itself comforting things. Brightness that wasn't there. An all-consuming light, regardless of his fully dilated pupils. Just as quickly as the experience began, everything ended.

X

X

** For Kalen Kincade** , the rush of blood was something he'd never experienced before. The difference between the human blood he knew for over one hundred fifty years, and this potent-tasting were-animal blood ... Kalen likened it to the difference between typical coffee and espresso beans.

His hands ached as the bones and tendons mended in his thumbs. Color seeped back into his face until his cheeks became flush. His body tingled with the exhilaration of such an intoxicating and nourishing feed.

With one fang against the man's carotid artery, and the other fang against the man's jugular, Kalen's tongue was treated to two very distinctive flavors, one oxygen rich, one not. It was akin to drinking two different flavors of wine from two different straws at either corner of his mouth.

The flow of blood lessened in intensity until it became a trickle. Kalen suckled at the wound, trying to get as much as he could stand. After some measure of time, Kalen drew his head back from Jackson's throat and licked the last vestiges of blood from his lips.

He drew in a deep breath - it sounded as though he'd just come up for air after being underwater for several moments. He trailed off into a sigh of content.

"Cat ... the other, _other_white meat." Kalen slumped back against the chair he was tied to earlier. He took a moment to compose himself then stood and adjusted the lay of his jacket. He tucked in the hem of his shirt and pushed dirty strands of hair back from his face. "That was most certainly a new experience."

He walked out of the living room and found a bathroom halfway down the hall. Kalen took a hand towel off the top of a nearby hamper, ran it under the sink and cleaned the blood off his throat, then he wiped his face clean. He walked into a nearby bedroom, found clothes that were close to his size, looking to be only slightly loose, and carried them back to the bathroom then stripped down and took a shower.

Once finished, he dressed in a simple white t-shirt with a v-neck collar, a black cotton button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to just above his elbows, and black jeans. He headed back to the bedroom, found a belt, and tightened it to the smallest notch, tucking the extra into his left front pocket. He brushed his hair and walked out to the living room.

Kalen knelt adjacent to Jackson's body, now pale from blood loss. He rolled the man onto his back, and carefully closed the man's eyes, then pushed against his chin until Jackson's bluish lips closed.

The vampire rummaged through each of Jackson's pockets but found nothing useful. The man's pockets were clean save for a Washington State driver's license.

Kalen stood up, glanced at the hacksaw on the out-of-place workbench in the middle of the carpeted living room.

A shiver ran down the vampire's spine, remembering the sensation of being cut into, earlier. He took a deep breath and swallowed down the painful memory.

Finally, Kalen headed for the front door and left the cabin. He closed the door behind himself and looked around town. The local fire department was starting clean up, parked in front of a burned out building. There was an otherwise eerie silence in the village, which, itself, felt unsettling and out of place.

He placed his right hand on his neck, haunted by the sensation of being cut through. Had the man sliced or chopped, Kalen would have been dead by now. He swallowed, glad to be able. He swallowed again, finding strange solace in the otherwise normal action. As he walked, he continued to swallow until his throat felt dry.

The vampire sighed, rubbed his face, and sniffed at the air. He decided if he couldn't find Rufus, he would have to leave to wake Natalia Kincade from her vampiric slumber-state of hibernation. For now, he walked the town, sniffing at the air in an attempt to locate Rufus Darken.

For the time being, however, he couldn't pick up the scent of a single werewolf. That worried him as much as waking Natalia. What was worse? Telling his creator that her mate, Methos, was now dead? Or the possibility of the werewolf race being wiped out?

If the stories were true, then the death of the werewolf race would mean the god of the werewolves, Fenris, would wake up. Kalen recalled the basics of the Norse beliefs - Fenris would rise up, devour Odin, and bring about the beginning of the 'end of days.'

Kalen swallowed again, calmed by the fact he still had a throat. Perhaps it was fate he was alive. Perhaps it was his reward for years upon years of caching good Karma - perhaps it was fateful that Jackson botched the beheading. Whatever it was, Kalen had a renewed outlook on being alive.

Yet, at the same time, Kalen felt haunted by experiencing something so uniquely painful and traumatic.

He ambled down the street with a blank expression, numb to the chaotic images of the small burnt-out village, which only barely survived the were-tiger attack...

X

X

Meanwhile... Across town ...

Rufus Tucker Darken brought a velveteen-padded paw up to the matching black fur of his face. He stretched a bit with a grunt and pushed his palm against his eyes then cupped either side of his elongated wolfish snout. The werewolf's calm grayish-brown gaze lifted. Everything slid into focus.

"Woozy," he said, startled by the sound of his own voice. Lying in an adjacent bed was the mother of his son, a woman he hadn't seen in twenty-five years. The Icelandic woman was in her werewolf form. Her fur was dapple gray and mottled brown. Her chest rose and fell in rhythmic cadence.

Ulfey - she looked so peaceful. Ulfey wore simple garments comprised of handmade leather and cloth, which covered her intimate body parts and served to hold simple weapons. It was padded with leather armor, protecting weak spots where her kidneys and liver were located.

Rue decided the armor was revealing to allow for flexible movement. But its design was more for functionality than fashion, as it wasn't as revealing as female armor should have been. Then again, maybe his imagination was spoiled by works of fantasy art.

Rufus sat up on a mattress and put his feet on the floor. The room spun about his head from the sudden movement, but the strange vertigo sensation soon passed.

He lifted his paws, cupping either side of his head. "Feel drunk," he added. Again, his voice sounded strange, as if foreign.

"It will pass." The voice came from across the room.

Rue looked up, wearily, waiting for his eyes to focus in on the blur in the corner. Everything slid into focus.

He squinted, making out the face of a man.

Rue's mind raced, still groggy. The face belonged to a man Rue knew in the past.

Eric Loupe. Rue said the man's name, pronouncing his surname as 'loop,' and eased back down on the mattress.

"Good. I see the rumors are true about a werewolf's metabolism. I worried I gave you too much."

"Why did you drug me, Eric?"

"I have my reasons. So, let's talk about my wife."

"Look," Rufus said, trying not to slur his speech. "We thought you were dead. She had a weak moment, and I was a stupid man who were emotionally confused. Was. I mean, was. I jus' cain't ... mouth feels like cotton."

"What's the extent of your relationship with Karla?" asked Eric.

"She's a succubus and I'm an idiot. I just learned me some new facts - I got me a son." Rue glanced over at the slumbering werewolf female nearby. He cut his eyes back to Eric. "Now that I know Ulfey is still alive, I got a shot at happiness if I play my cards right. For the record, I ain't interested in Karla."

Eric narrowed his eyes, staring at Rufus for a moment. He folded his hands, relaxing in the chair. Finally, he stood up from the corner of the room and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't let it happen again. And do not tell her you saw me. I have ... mistakes for which I must atone. She is safer surrounded by demigods and the esoteric survivors. If she knows I'm alive, she'll come after me, and that would put her into more danger at this point."

"Eric ... I'm sorry."

Loupe ignored Rue's words. He continued, "If you even dream of telling her you saw me, let alone that I threatened you, I promise you will regret it, Rufus. Now go find your son before he gets mixed up in this shit. No sense in both of us losing our chance to be a father to our boys."

"Karla is mourning your death."

"She hasn't acted like it."

"She mourns in private, Eric. She's hurting and doesn't know how to show it. Not everybody grieves the same way. I learned, a long time ago, not to judge her by my standards. You should give'er the same benefit."

Loupe glanced at Ulfey and sighed through his nose. He cut his eyes back at Rue but continued to face Ulfey. "I told you not to tell her I am alive. It's for her safety."

Rufus licked his lips and sat up on the bed again. "Why did you drug me? Did you seriously think I'd attack you?'

"No. It's harder to maintain a lie when you are drugged. I wanted to make sure you would be truthful about having sex with my wife. Justus was with me when it happened. He was showing me that I needed to detach from my emotions and move on. He was trying to tell me that she moved on, and in order to do what needed to be done, I would have to move on as well. I nearly attacked you right then and there. But Justus wouldn't let me."

"I cain't exactly remember - that's the guy who used to be the Justiciar of this area, right? He trained Reinhardt St. Leonard to take the position, and was in the middle of training Johann Foster, right?"

"Yes. He wanted me to take the position but we both agreed I am unstable because I cannot focus. He feels I might have a chance to take up the mantle after I purge my emotions. The only way I can do that is to take time away and clear my head while everyone thinks I am dead. So I have personal agendas to oversee before I can resume my training."

Rufus licked his lips in apprehension. "Personal agendas like following me here because of what I did with Karla?"

"I'm not here to kill you. I'm not vengeful. I was angry; there is a difference."

"She's a succubus," said Rue. "It's in her nature."

"I understand if she feeds on one-night-stands. I do not like it, but I understand. You, however, are too close to her. Feelings were developing between the two of you twenty-five years ago. Do not go near her again. And if your paths do cross, keep your clothes on, Rufus."

"Like I said, I'm not interested in Karla. That was a fluke. That was me being emotional ... angry, even, because of feeling betrayed by her. I felt dirty after that. I promise it won't happen again. You got my word."

Eric narrowed his gaze, studying Rue's facial expression and eyes. "Do not tell her I'm alive. I have personal problems to explore and if she comes after me, she'll be in danger. I cannot protect her. At least, I cannot be as effective in protecting her as her current circle of friends."

"What'cha gonna do? Do you need help?"

"No. I needed to threaten you about fucking my wife. Now I have to find out about my missing past. I have to put my personal issues to rest before I can think about my future, or think about finishing my training with Justus. Until then, he is in the wind and I am alone. I prefer it this way for now. So stay out of my way."

"I will. I promise." Rue paused then said, "I'm glad you ain't dead."

"So far as you are concerned, I am dead, Rufus. And I very well might die while looking for answers. So feel free to mourn me, so long as it doesn't involve Karla."

"What happened to the town? We were under attack." Rue's slurred speech began to clear, metabolizing the drugs rapidly. "What happened to everyone else?"

Eric nodded towards the slumbering Ulfey. "The two of you are the only werewolf survivors. The vampire fought to protect her. He was eventually overpowered. You were no match for those other creatures. I brought you and the female wolf back here. The rest of the town went to hell. I drugged you and went to stop the attackers. I killed most, but one is still unaccounted for. He most likely captured your vampire friend."

"Kalen. His name is Kalen."

"Yes, him." Eric's expression dissolved to one of utter disgust. "One of Karla's many ex-lovers. You can either search for him, or you can search for your son. Don't make the same mistake I did. Don't assume your son is safe. I suggest you go and find him and be a proper father. Be better than me. Be your child's protector."

"I will, Eric. I promise. Thank you for savin' me and Ulfey."

"Mm. I brought her in case I needed leverage from you. I honestly expected you to be difficult."

"Naw. You and I, we're still allies so far as I'm concerned. Friends, even."

"You're a terrible friend, Rufus. I'm leaving to take care of my personal business. Stay away from my wife." Eric's body dissolved into a shadow. It slinked across the floor and disappeared beneath the door. Once he was gone, the room brightened significantly. Sunlight filtered in through a dirty window on the west wall.

Rufus stumbled over to the adjacent bed and laid down next to Ulfey. "You okay babe?"

She didn't respond. She was asleep.

Rufus sighed and put his head on a pillow next to hers and closed his eyes with a sigh. The drugs in his system made it difficult to stay awake. After a few minutes, he relaxed and fell asleep at her side.

X

X

Dateless time with drawn out days and nights... The Parker Family Island...

Conner rubbed his jaw. "I'm fine, Evan. Some of my teeth were chipped and a few were broken. I thought being hit in the face by a collapsing building would cause you to lose a tooth and spit it out - root and all. But it didn't happen like that."

"You need a dentist, bud." Evan Balmoral was a forty-five year old black man with an average face, average short hair, standing at average height and weight. In fact, just about everything was average regarding Evan. Everything except his ability to create and shape objects with glass or sapphire. His skin tone was an average dark color. His eyes were an average shade of brown. His teeth were an average shade of white. He wore average jeans and an average white t-shirt.

Conner Parker sighed and shook his head. The teenaged boy brought his sun-tanned hands to his face and rubbed.

Silence. Conner brought his hands down over his cheeks, rubbing at his jawline. The young master thief looked up, brows arched. "Seriously? A dentist?"

"Seriously," Evan replied with a firm nod.

"We're out here on one of the most remote islands in the world, out of phase with normal time because of Karla's uncle, and his ability to warp time or whatever. How are we going to find a dentist?"

"We've been out here for five months, and I'm still impressed by Raul's temporal mastery. Coolest power ever."

"Whatever. I think it's a little bit too much for him, Evan. You've seen the way he drinks."

"Yeah. I can't imagine what he's seen. Anyway, don't change the topic. You still need a dentist."

"Well it's not happening. We're nowhere near a dentist and we're out of phase with the rest of the world right now."

Evan shook his head and then shrugged. "I mean, you should have taken care of your broken teeth before we left for our trip. Just because a day or two passed in the rest of the world, doesn't mean you could wait to take care of yourself, Conner. We're what...? Five months into our six month training vacation? That's a long time to go without having your teeth fixed. Let me see."

"What?"

"Let me see," Evan said in a stern tone - one he'd honed after several years of being a father.

Conner looked around the small bedroom, as if nervous, then opened his mouth a little.

Evan sighed and used his hands to widen Conner's jaw. "Turn this way, towards the light." A pause, then, "Jesus, Conner. The gum line is coming up over your broken molar. You need a full tooth there to protect where the center of the tooth is exposed."

Speaking with his mouth wide open, Conner managed the words, "What does that mean?"

Evan shook his head. "You've got a half of a tooth back there. The side facing your tongue was broken. How have you been dealing with that? Hell, how have you been chewing? You've gone five months without complaining."

"It's starting to hurt, now," Conner said. He backed away from Evan and closed his mouth. "I'll be fine. It's just one more month in here. One more day of normal time or ... whatever. I'll be fine."

"Conner, you either need to lose the tooth, or you need a dentist to rebuild the tooth. The inside of your gum line is swollen there. Might be an infection or something. You need that tooth fixed. It's worse than the others - the three others I saw are just chipped. Cosmetic repairs at best. That one in the back is going to be problematic, bud."

"Just let me think about my options, okay? I don't want to rip a tooth out and we don't have any dental supplies here. Certainly nothing that won't help with the pain, that's for sure."

A sly smile crossed Evan Balmoral's face. "I could create a tooth for you."

"Out of glass??"

"Sapphire would be harder. It wouldn't break, that's for sure. It might hurt a little, because it would fill in the broken area, and put pressure on the part that's exposed, but basically I'd be making a sapphire filling. How about it?"

"I ... let me think about it," Conner said. "That's a little weird."

"It would be like having porcelain teeth, only it'd be sapphire instead."

"Are you a doctor or a dentist?" asked Conner.

"No. But I've given people glass teeth plenty of times. Now, having said that, I usually did it right before I punched that person in their mouth but ... it's not like I've never done it before. I've had plenty of experience. And sapphire doesn't shatter like glass."

"How'd you learn the sapphire thing anyway if you were always doing the glass thing?"

Evan shrugged. "You know how most cellphones have sapphire screens? They used to use glass. As phone makers learned how to mix the two, I learned how they did it and eventually learned how to manipulate those molecules, too. I don't have 'vetrokinesis', I control molecular change. But, so far as what molecules I can manipulate, I guess you could say I have a bit of a learning disability."

"So you only learned how to manipulate glass, and now sapphire?"

"Yup. I had a buddy, growing up, named Johann Foster. He was a prodigy with molecular-kinesis. He could change anything into anything. That ability is in my grasp, but learning how to do it the way he did ... it hasn't come natural. So yeah. Sapphire is very hard. Do you want me to fix your teeth or what?"

"I need to think about it. You're not a dentist. You might make things worse."

Evan shrugged. "No worries. I won't force you to do it. Just let me know if you change your mind or if the pain gets worse."

"Okay." Conner rubbed his face and said, "I'm going to take a walk, and see how everyone else is doing. Thanks for coming by, Evan. You're doing alright, here, right?"

"Yeah, bud. I just ... I miss my wife and daughter. That's all."

"Patience and Haley, right?"

Evan nodded. "You remembered."

Conner offered a smile and walked Evan out of his personal study. Parker shut the door behind himself and nodded. "See you at practice in a few hours."

"See you then."

Conner nodded and walked down the hall in the opposite direction of Evan. He stretched a bit and made his way past the study, towards the living area.

The boy counted the private quarters along the way. Raul Poliandro, the man from Spain with the ability to control time. However, Raul's control over time was oddly inhibited, making it so he was unable to move through a period of years between 2044 and 2054. The man claimed he learned something darker than he could handle, and so he went back in time to 2044 and laid low, living out his life as a drunk until Karla found him in a Spanish bar in 2049.

The next room belonged to his uncle, Reno Nevada, a homicide inspector from San Francisco who gained control over the power of lightning in 2023. At the start of the following year, Reno was captured by Aris Falcon and placed into cryogenic stasis for study because the power of lightning could not be stolen by the geneticist. Apparently, it was not compatible with anyone else's DNA. Reno was mysteriously shipped from Falcon's lab beneath the Atlantic and wound up in the care of the succubus, Karla Howard, at the end of February, 2049. It took him months to wake up from a coma. When he finally did, he learned that Karla legally changed his name to Nathanial Carrington, the last man to wield the power of lightning. Reno managed to stay under the radar with his gifted name, trying to live up to the legacy of the last man to use it.

The next room belonged to Conner's half-sister, Carmen Parker. She was a number of years older, and disappeared a few years ago. Like Conner, she possessed the ability of supernatural dexterity, grace and agility. Conner had hoped to create some sort of bond with his sibling but over the last few months, she was little more than his teacher. She didn't know how to be a sister, or any other role for that matter. Conner resented her over it, but did his best to keep his grudge a secret.

Another room, the one next to his own, belonged to Conner's other uncle, James Parker. Uncle Jaye's fiancée, Dawn Razin, stayed in the room as well.

Conner took a moment to remember how a Japanese Shinto spirit, Tamamo no Mae, temporarily borrowed Dawn's body. What made it truly awkward was that Conner began a relationship with Tamamo. Dawn now had intimate knowledge of that relationship; Dawn inherited memories of sex with Conner, which made things difficult for Dawn. She could hardly make eye contact with Conner. The past five months were ... uncomfortable at best.

Tamamo eventually found herself a loaner body at a Japanese hospital. Tamae proved to be a willing host. Tamamo now called herself 'Tammy.' But neither Tamamo nor Dawn were talking to one another. After five months of training together on the small island, the tension was thick.

Oddest of all, Dawn decided to reinvent herself, wanting people to call her 'Rachel' in public. She suggested the incident with Tamamo was her reason for wanting to change her identity but Conner wasn't buying it. Every time he spoke to Dawn about the situation, he had the feeling as though she wasn't being entirely truthful about her past. However, he couldn't place his finger on it.

Finally, Conner passed his own room, which he'd been sharing with Tamamo, inhabiting the body of Tamae. Over the last few months, the two grew rather close. Conner enjoyed having his first relationship, especially with a woman who was intelligent and passionate, yet playful and opinionated.

The hall opened up to a living area, where Carmen and Reno were having a conversation about Nichole Parker, the Parker siblings' great aunt. She was once Reno's fiancée, but after thinking she was dead, Reno recently discovered that Nichole was working for Aris Falcon.

Worse yet, Aris imbued Nichole with many supernatural abilities, some of which were only compatible with her, including an ability that allowed her to borrow and emulate any Esoteric's power within close proximity of her body.

Nichole Parker could throw Reno's lightning so long as she was in the same room as Reno Nevada. But she lost the power when she was further away from him. Eventually, Nichole became corrupt, and, worse, she developed an addiction to finding new abilities. She helped Aris Falcon search the globe for people with interesting powers whose DNA was compatible with their own.

If they found someone with an ability that they couldn't use, they searched for someone else with a similar ability who was genetically compatible. Eventually both Aris and Nichole became incredibly dangerous, and Nichole's addiction worsened.

Conner's reverie concluded. He stood in the archway where the hall met the living room. He remained quiet, listening to the conversation between his Uncle Reno and his half-sister.

"So Nichole never saw you?" asked Nevada.

Carmen shook her head. "I was lucky. I wasn't quite so lucky when she captured my parents. That's when I knew it was time to get the hell out of there. I was lucky to have found Evan trying to escape. That's the only reason I made it out of there - we worked together." Carmen paused then asked, "Not to change the subject, but how are you holding up? Twenty-five years in a coma has to be stressful."

"I heard that the very first production model hovering automobiles will be released before the end of this year in several countries." Reno grinned a bit. "Do you know what that means?"

"We'll have flying cars?"

"Well, not flying in the way I'd like. I won't be able to add a conversion kit to my car and fly around. Besides, like Karla said, we'd have idiots flying into buildings." Reno lifted his index finger. "People would finally be able to drive better in the snow and hard rain. Friction wouldn't be an issue, because there's no contact with the ground. A car could stop sooner, accelerate smoother without spinning out, and let's face it ... it's about time. It's going to be badass."

Carmen shrugged. "Okay."

"Two," Reno continued, lifting a second finger, "the hovering cars won't wipe out in flash floods that cover a road. Three, less people will be run over. If you dive, the car will go right over you. And, let's face it, it's cool." He ticked off a third and fourth finger.

Carmen bit her top lip, amused, and shook her head. "Boys. I swear. What's a real practical application for a floating car?"

"Less drag means better gas mileage. It's a matter of resistance."

"Okay, I can get onboard with fuel-to-mileage to a degree. That helps everyone. Except for me - since I don't worry about paying for fuel."

"Yeah, yeah." Reno looked up, seeing Conner over Carmen's shoulder. "Look who came to join us."

Carmen turned around and offered her brother a nod. "Hey. How's your tooth?"

"I'll be fine."

"Good." She afforded Conner a smile then turned back to Reno. "He might be grumpy at times, but he never complains about pain. Probably the only man I've met that doesn't complain when he's not feeling good." She grinned back at her brother, adding, "But he gripes about everything else under the sun."

"So let's talk about yesterday," Conner said.

Reno frowned. "What about it? That was a fluke."

"I'm not so sure," Carmen said.

Conner bit his lower lip. "Me either. I clenched my hands around the cane, it glowed, I hit a tennis ball launched from that pitching machine, and it melted the ball. Okay, I get it - that's weird. I've been learning how to control the orichalcum staff and I'm getting better at charging it up, but yesterday ... that was a whole new ballgame."

"Sports analogies," Carmen said with a sigh. I feel like I'm the only one that doesn't care for them."

Reno frowned. "I said I was sorry, Conner. I don't know what caused that. I've never _accidentally_discharged a bolt of lightning before."

Conner held his hands up. "No, no, wait. Uncle Reno, I've been thinking about this all night. I don't think it was your fault."

"How so?" asked Nevada.

"Maybe, when I charged up the staff, it somehow attracted your electric bolt."

Reno shook his head with a shrug. "I struck your metal stick with a bolt of lightning while you were holding it. You were electrocuted. You were unconscious. Let's have a look at your hands."

Carmen turned back towards her brother. "Let's see'em."

Conner approached the two and held his palms towards them. "I'll be fine." His right palm had burn marks with a snowflake-like pattern. The markings spread out over the back of his right hand and up his forearm like a spider web. "I haven't been doing much with my right hand since yesterday. But it's not so bad. My tooth actually hurts worse than my hand."

"You're lucky Raul was able to speed up the healing time," said Carmen. "You could have died, Conner."

"It wasn't my fault."

Reno frowned again. "Nobody said it was."

"Yeah, I'm just worried about you," she said. "You're all I have left."

Conner smirked. "You have your boyfriend, the freaky vampire guy."

Carmen sighed. "His name is Kalen Kincade. Don't be a dick." She turned away and walked out of the room.

Reno groaned and rolled his eyes. "God, you two."

"What?" Conner folded his arms, careful with his right hand, which was still sore.

"You're being mean to each other. You just got each other back recently. Don't be so rude to her."

"Yeah. I guess. So I heard you two talking about Nichole. It doesn't seem to bother you that she's become some sort of freak now."

Reno ran his hands up through his tousled black hair. "Listen, kiddo, that's not the real Nichole. I'm telling you. I saw an actual clone of her years ago. The clone was killed. We ran DNA tests during her autopsy. It was labeled inconclusive, but the truth is it wasn't really her. What makes you think this crazy bitch is the real McCoy?"

"Alright, fine. Whatever. I just want to get back to fighting and training and getting ready. And now my hand hurts. Y'know, I've had that goddamn pole sticking out my torso. And now I've learned how to master the damn thing so I'd never be impaled again. But guess what? When I touch it with my left hand, now, it tingles. It burns. Everyone who touches it, now that you zapped it, says it hurts to hold it. Whatever you did, you messed it up. You need to find a way to discharge the energy from it."

Reno nodded. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"You promise?"

Reno blinked. "Yeah, of course. Look, kiddo, we're family okay? I've got your back. I'll discharge the energy from the pole. To be honest, I've never heard of something holding a charge like that. At least not simple metal objects, anyhow."

"I appreciate it." Conner paused. A wry smile found the boy's face. He cleared his throat. "So you're excited about the hovering automobiles huh? The 2050 models ship in October."

"Yeah, so I heard. Your sister seems to think I should be freaking out about waking up twenty-five years later. But I love futuristic stuff. The holographic TV's are wild. Now I hear that cellphones are going to have a holographic image thing soon."

Conner nodded. "Yeah. It's going to display two hundred fifty-six colors, and it's great for having video chats. Skype and FaceTime will be the first two applications to make use of it. But, like I said, the colors are limited at this point."

"Still, it's going to be awesome."

Conner shrugged. "Making it smaller will help make television emitters smaller. That's a good thing. But I still prefer the privacy of Bluetooth contact lenses or the Bluetooth glasses."

Reno chuckled with a shrug. "I tried the Bluetooth Google Glasses back in 2023. It gave me motion sickness while driving. But just imagine having a conversation with a holographic image in your passenger seat? I would cruise all the HOV lanes."

"What's a HOV lane?" asked Conner.

"It's a ... nevermind. Either you're not old enough to know because you're not old enough to drive yet, or it's something we no longer have in the future."

"This isn't the future," Conner corrected. "It's the present. You are from the past. We've been over this."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Look, your hand will be fine, and I'll fix that cane of yours. Stop being in a sour mood."

"How well do you trust that guy - Evan?"

Reno shrugged. "He's a good guy. I trust him. Why?"

"He offered to fix one of my teeth by turning it into sapphire. Or, like, he'd rebuild the missing part of the tooth. Whichever. I'm just nervous about it. I hate dentists as it is. I hate tooth pain even more. I just don't want to wind up in more pain when we don't have a doctor on the island."

"Conner, if that shit gets infected or something, you'll be in real trouble. I think he's just offering it as a last resort. He's turned people's fingernails and teeth to glass for years. He knows what he's doing. If he says he can help, then ... he can help."

"Okay. So you guys were besties or whatever?"

"Yup. We were tight."

"What's that even mean, Reno?"

"I guess the term went out of style. But people still say 'besties,' huh? The future is weird."

"The present."

Reno grinned. "Whatever. Where's the cane? I'll have a look at it for ya'."

"It's in the gym."

Nevada asked, "Have you noticed it to be magnetized or anything like that?"

Conner shook his head. "No. Orichalcum isn't magnetic or paramagnetic. It's a precious metal, and it's very pure. You'd have to fashion orichalcum with ferrous material in order to make it magnetic. I'm not even sure if it could be done - I don't know enough about metallurgy."

"Fair enough. Just curious. Most metal is highly conductive, but some metals become _really_magnetized when you hit them with electricity."

The teenaged boy shrugged. "Well, the stand I use is metallic, and it didn't seem attracted to the stand. So, no, you didn't magnetize it, Uncle Reno."

"Alright. Go get some breakfast or something. I'm going to go look at your staff." Reno gave Conner a firm pat on the shoulder then walked out of the room.

Conner sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. "Okay."

X

X

Monday, September 6, 2049 - late afternoon (Present) Cairo, Egypt ...

Karla stood over the dead body of a Muslim man in a decidedly-plain office on the third floor of a building at the heart of the city. She shook her head and shrugged. "Sorry, Foxy-loxy."

Sinopa sighed. Her orange-furred ears laid back atop of her head, eyes narrow with frustration. "She is leaving a trail of corpses from Giza to Gaza and back. One would think it would be easy to find her - simply follow the trail. I am growing impatient with our inability to track her down."

"Sinopa, you know how Reno Nevada was once a cop?"

"Hai, Karla-san. A homicide inspector."

Karla nodded. "Yup. Well, Nathanial wasn't terribly far off the mark, himself - those guys were cut from the same cloth. Nathan was a sort of detective working for the Esoteric Council. He hunted down people who broke the rules. He examined crime scenes and such."

"The similarities between them never cease to amaze me. I recall that Nathan-sama never wore a seatbelt. Reno also never wore such a restraining harness when driving."

Karla shrugged. "Yeah, but Nathan grew up with the invention of the automobile. He was used to not wearing seatbelts. Reno, on the other hand, was a trained officer. Cops are trained not to strap in, because they have to get out of a car quickly in an emergency. But I see what you're saying."

"Back to the point - Nathan was a detective for the Council?"

"Yeah, so, I was Nathan's roomie for a long time, Sinopa. I learned a few things from that guy."

"Something that will help us find Sekhmet I hope?"

"That's what I'm tryin' to say, Foxy-fluff."

Sinopa closed her eyes and sighed. "Continue."

"Yeah, well, let's look at the pattern."

"What pattern? I fail to see one - except that they are all Muslims, and all those killed are male."

Karla grinned. She looked back down at the body for a moment. The succubus walked to a nearby window. "Police will be here soon. Gut feeling. Let's talk somewhere more private - I don't want to be blamed for this guy's death." She paused. Pink glyphs glowed beneath Karla's palms.

She and Sinopa teleported to the rooftop of the building. Karla began pacing. "Okay, Watson. Let's look at the facts. From Giza to the Gaza strip, men were killed en masse. Swaths of any man that got in her way. That was the easy trail to follow. But the trail from Gaza back to Giza became different. It was men of clout like the guy downstairs."

"How do you mean?"

"She was looking for someone important. Not just any Muslim man would make for a good victim anymore. She only killed men who were important in the community. Religious leaders, politicians, spiritual advisors like the guy downstairs ... that's a pattern."

"What does it mean? How can we use it to find Sekhmet?"

Karla reached up and captured a lock of blond. She twirled it around her finger while thinking aloud. "Well, when we talked to that lady at the Gaza boarder, she claimed Sekhmet was looking for some high-up Muslim dude. Something called a Caliphate. I don't know enough to know the significance of the term. Islam never really interested me - they're too much like Catholics and Christians. They can't agree over anything but the basics. They can't agree over anyone but the dude who started the religion. They have different ways of being dicks to each other. The Sunnis and the Shiites argue worse than Christians and Catholics. Catholics went on the crusades. Sunnis started beheading people who don't convert. ...Or was that the Shiites? Damn, I can't remember."

"Karla-san, you are rambling. Back up to what Sekhmet was searching for - how will it help us find her?"

"She's looking for the head Muslim."

Sinopa frowned. "Such a thing does not exist."

"What I mean is, the most influential Muslim. She's a goddess, Sinopa. She's trying to find that dude and kill him or force him to convert to her religion. Ironic - she's acting like a religious extremist and, in doing so, is taking out influential Muslim dudes. But, let's face it, not all of these guys deserve to be gutted. _Most_of them were peaceful spiritual advisors or wimpy-ass political dudes."

Sinopa clenched her hands into fists. "Karla-san. You're unable to focus. Stay on task. You're a capable woman when you choose to be. Our children's lives hang in the balance. The sooner we locate Sekhmet, the sooner we will get them home safely."

Karla looked down. She fidgeted for a moment then approached Sinopa and gently hugged the kitsune. After a moment, she brought her hands to Sinopa's face. Their gaze met. Karla tilted her head a bit and said, "Our children are likely in cryogenic stasis. It's the safest place for them because it is harder to use them against us. We've already lost them in a sense. And they're safely removed from the battlefield. And so long as we don't announce our attack on Aris Falcon's little Water Park ... he will have no reason to use them as hostages. Let's keep our focus on finding Sekhmet. We've both lost our husbands, but that only makes us more dangerous to Falcon. Right? Now..."

Sinopa closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.

Karla kissed Sinopa's forehead. "Now ... we find the most influential surviving Muslim men in the city. We watch them and wait for Sekhmet to appear. You're a demigod. How would she be zeroing in on her targets?"

"She can sense faith. She would seek out the most pious. Unfortunately the most influential Muslim may not necessary be the most faithful, or faith-driven."

"Elementary, my dear Watson. So we don't look for the most influential. We think like her, since she's not used to this world. We look for the most devoutly faithful man on_your_ radar, Sinopa. Lead the way."

The kitsune replied with a half-smile. "Clever. You are quite intelligent when not spouting a liturgy of nonsense."

"I'm told by some of the oldest immortals alive that my sense of humor and my ability to banter is my saving grace."

"How so, Karla-san?"

"It keeps me in touch with my humanity. And laughter keeps me emotionally young."

"Mm, in that case, I am due to kill everyone before I die from old age."

Karla broke out into hysterics. "You just made a joke!"

"I was serious."

"It was seriously funny. And, no, you're a demigod. It probably takes longer for your kind to wear down emotionally."

"Let us not find out, because I am most certainly running out of patience quickly. Teleport us to the ground, Karla. We have work to do."

Karla leaned over the side of the building, looked around for possible witnesses, then teleported to the sidewalk with Sinopa. The succubus fell into step behind the redhead, walking through the streets of beautiful Cairo.

They walked for an hour in silence for the sake of Sinopa's diminishing patience. The hour of quiet was like torture for Karla.

All at once, the succubus stopped and put a hand on Sinopa's shoulder. "Hey, I found a lead."

Sinopa turned to face Karla, eyes narrow. "You asked me to soul-search for the faithful. You asked me to lead the way. Every time we follow your leads, we wind up at the most faithless locations, run by the seediest of..."

"Stop." Karla put both hands on Sinopa's shoulders and turned the Japanese-Irish woman around.

A holo-emitter in a window displayed the local news. Words floated across the bottom of the image in Arabic. The visual depicted a standoff around a mosque somewhere in the city with police in riot gear positioned outside of the holy building.

"How will we find the location of that place, Karla? Looking at the news footage is a good start, but there is no way we can figure out that location in time!"

Karla reached beneath Sinopa's chin and tilted the kitsune's head upwards. "Maybe you noticed the angle of the news footage was from high above. Look."

Sinopa squinted then smiled, seeing two helicopters hovering in the distance. "Forgive my impatience."

"C'mon. Let's go meet a legitimate goddess. I hope she speaks English." Karla took Sinopa's hand and teleported them towards the media choppers, clear across the city.

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Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/773048

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