

### ASATRU

By Ariana Kenny

Copyright May 2011 by Ariana Kenny

Published by Smashwords

#  Chapter 1: Rachael

"I can still only remember the one thing. Over and over, just the same thing. There is nothing else I can tell you......I remember the bright light as I reached the edge of the cave. Breathing in the air, hot, thick, but fresh. Being so grateful to be out, but knowing I'm nowhere near free yet. I can feel him in my arms, I am holding him tight trying to run. Jonah's heavy and he's crying. I'm gasping for breath and my legs hurt so much. Although I am trying to run, but with carrying him, I'm too weighed down. I keep running, but my legs feel like they are barely making ground. I'm staggering at best. I can barely see, let alone run properly and I'm so tired.

The sun makes me squint, and I am looking around, trying to see where to go next but all I see is blinding sun and desert. Everywhere, just desert, no buildings, no road, nothing. A few scraps of plants and rocks, no cars, not a thing, as far as I can see. I keep moving forward, but I know....I know he is just behind me. He knows I am making a run for it, where I am, and he's coming for me. For us.

One foot in front of the other, I can feel the burning hot sand on my feet and then I hear him yell. My skirt is getting in the way of me moving properly. It might be shredded, might be ragged, but it's still intact enough to grab hold of my legs. The man behind me now is old, with a long beard, but I know he's strong. I start to cry as I run with Jonah. I'm running and every muscle is in pain, because he's so heavy, but I can't let him go. I can't leave him behind. But I know.... I know deep down if I keep running like this, carrying him, I'm not going to make it. He'll catch up with me, and take us back, or worse. As I run, I can feel the man is right on me now, I look back and see him, dressed in dusty, old linen clothes. He's running, he doesn't have any weapons, and even though I can't see anything he can use to harm me, I'm still so scared. I know he can hurt me. I know he's strong, and I'm so scared I think I'm going to break. I can't go back. I can't let him take us back.

Jonah starts screaming when he sees how close he is. I can't think. I just.... I just.... I stop in my tracks, I throw Jonah away from me, down on the ground next to a few scattered rocks and plants. I'm sure it hurt him, landing on the ground like that, but I have no choice. Once I threw him to the ground, I turn around to face him, the man I fear. I'm bracing myself, I'm going to fight him, I think I'm going to die...I know it's going to hurt.... and.......then I can't remember anything else. Nothing, until they found us, walking on the road. I remember the flashing lights, the heat of the fire behind me. That's all. Nothing else."

I shrugged my shoulders as I opened my eyes to regard Amber, my Social Worker. She was young, and I hoped keen enough to get me the help we all needed. Her light brown hair was pulled in to a basic ponytail, and her brown eyes lightly complimented by a tan eye shadow. Her presentation might be understated, but from the tone of her skin and the labeled clothing she wore, I could tell she came from money. This job then, would be a choice, not simply an option. So if she was passionate, had nothing to lose, maybe she would fight harder for me than some of the other people in the office I had met. The woman I had been appointed the first week had barely kept her eyes open during the interview, and it wasn't until Amber had taken on my case that I at least got an appointment for a Psychiatrist. Not that I wanted one, but right now, I had to admit, I think I needed one. Amber sat, elbows on knees, riveted by everything I said. I felt uncomfortable for a moment, almost on show. I fidgeted in my seat and she must have sensed my apprehension.

"Nothing more before the car blowing up, the police helicopters and the rescue crew on the road?" Amber asked.

"No, nothing. I know I should remember, I don't know why I can't." I wished I could do something to budge the block in my mind. Make myself remember anything before what memories I had. Even my name, Rachael, was one I found inscribed on the inside of the ring I wore. I hoped it was actually my name.

I couldn't remember anything else. Not a thing, other than my anxious re-birth from captivity, running through the desert, running for my life, for Jonah's. At least he remembered something, though he wouldn't talk of course. That would make it too easy.

Jonah was barely 7 at a guess, and he wrote his name, his age and that I was his mother, when asked. Nothing else though. No address, no details. When asked, he simply put down the pencil, bowed his head and refused. He clutched my hand, and held me like I would disappear anytime we went anywhere. Like grim death, but this time at least he had gone to see the child Psychologist while I saw Amber, and he hadn't kicked up a huge fuss. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe he was starting to feel more confident. That would be good, because I knew I wasn't. Amber's voice broke my thoughts.

"It's not unusual you know," she reassured me. "Repression like this is just your mind's way of protecting itself. It's alright. That's what the psych will be for. You've done some great work today."

I lowered my head. "I don't know that that's true." I found myself muttering.

"You really have, you might seem like you are repeating yourself, but you had trouble even getting through that part before, but could tell me the whole scene comfortably this time around. You mentioned what he was wearing, looking for weapons. That's an interesting word to use. Not gun, not knife, but weapons. When you start working with Dr Wright I'm sure a whole lot more can start coming out." Amber smiled encouragingly. I responded in kind, and felt my breath ease. I was so tense I still sat on the edge of the chair a full 30 minutes after sitting down. The small relaxation of my breath felt like my chest was finally being released from being constricted by giant elastic bands. I could feel my shoulders unbunch as well.

"I hope so. I'm sick of carrying this around -this feeling like I have some kind of load on my back, but I can't look behind to see what it is, or why I have to bear it." Amber rested a hand on mine.

"You'll be alright Rachael. It's OK. Really. We'll get you there, one step at a time." Amber paused for a moment. "You said something else that's interesting."

I looked up at her hopefully. "What's that?"

"About Jonah." She responded. "You said he was screaming. That means that he can use his voice. Like the doctors said, there's no medical or physical reason he doesn't talk. He just isn't ready. Not yet anyway."

I had to give a half laugh. "You really are an optimist aren't you?"

"Have to be in this job." She admitted.

An older woman with a black bob cut ducked her head around the partition, interrupting us. "Amber, your four o'clock is here. They've been waiting for 15 minutes, and they've made me feel every minute of it."

Amber shook her head as though irritated at herself for losing track of time. "Right." She turned to me. "Rachael, I have to go, but the appointment is set for next Thursday with Dr Wright, you can start exploring what happens next with him. In the meantime, I got the extension on your temporary accommodation through the department, so you don't have to worry about that. We can find something more permanent soon, you are on the priority list. If there is anything though..." Trailing off, I knew what she meant.

"I know I can call you." I finished for her. "We're fine, really. I just think Jonah is feeling cooped up. We don't really do anything much, but until I know where his school is, who our friends are, I just don't want to start making new habits and routines. I feel like I'm giving up on what we used to have. Whatever that was."

"I know things are frustrating right now." Amber stood and I mirrored her, but she continued to talk. "The Child Psychologist seems to think they might be onto a breakthrough with him as well. There might be more he can tell us soon. Even if he won't talk, we know at least Jonah is old enough to write the basics. Look, for the moment, I can see if there is anything else we can get you from donations. I know there are free tickets to Cirque de Soleil up for grabs." Amber was sweet, kind. I knew it instinctively, not just from what she offered to do for me.

"Thank you Amber."

"No problem Rachael, I'll call you as soon as we have somewhere more permanent for you but....." A longer pause stretched before she lowered her voice so others couldn't hear as well. "I don't know if you would be interested, but my brother is having a party at his house on the weekend, tomorrow night actually. Lots of space for Jonah to run around, explore with some of the other kids that are coming. There will be some people who don't know you, you can talk about anything you want. Not this stuff. Good food, nice wine. I can pay for a cab from your place and back."

I felt the tension rise again. "I couldn't." I said shaking my head.

"Why not? Have you got a better offer?" Amber teased.

"No... I... I don't have anything to wear." It was a poor excuse, but the only one that sprung to mind.

Amber nodded and smiled as though expecting it. "I'll find you something. Don't worry, but I'd love to see you there. It's safe, everyone there – they're good people Rachael. Give yourself a night away from wondering, worrying. It's been three weeks." It was hard to argue with her reasoning. I nodded, and Amber smiled again, clearly pleased. I hoped my agreement to go wasn't going to be one I regretted, but I could use a break, some socialization, a glass of wine or two wouldn't go astray either.

I left the social work office and walked down the corridor to where Jonah was in seeing the Psychologist. They were just finishing up, leaving a blue room and escorted by the middle aged, slightly overweight receptionist. As soon as he saw me, he ran to me, arms outstretched, and it felt right holding him close to me. We rose to stand as I nodded to the Psychologist before we walked out the door and off to home. Or at least our temporary home, until we figured out where we belonged. No missing persons reports, no school reports of non attendance for Jonah. What was going on? We were no one, nothing, and nowhere to be seen.

We followed our usual routine of sorts, if you could call it that. The bar fridge in the motel we were put up in only held so much making it a daily necessity to make a trip to the store. Money was tight, but given I had little appetite, as long as Jonah ate, it was fine, I didn't really care. That night, I decided to give us a break from the usual steamed vegetables, meat and juice. We had pizza, ate in bed while watching TV, and it was relaxing, doing nothing, not caring about things for a moment in time.

I knew I wanted to get back to normal, I didn't care what normal was, but I wanted it. I lay with my head hanging off the side of the bed staring at the ceiling fan while the sound of giggling at the TV filled the air. What had happened to us? I felt that until I knew every detail of what happened, and every part of who we were, I was still enslaved to someone else. I felt dirty, plastic, and for all the giggling and pizza guzzling, I knew that this was effecting the boy profoundly.

Aside from the fact he refused to speak, his drawings were frightening, reflected darkness. Holes in the ground, with people standing over them bleeding, sad faces and large knives. Every time I saw one, I shuddered. One good thing was that school started in three weeks –depending on the various departments working together to push him through with no actual paperwork to support his placement. Hopefully they could cram his head with other things. By then I could be doing some serious work in therapy, uncovering the answers to all my questions. Amber had organised everything from school and accommodation, to therapy and money. In surprisingly good time too. Say what they will about Social Services, when they wanted to and had a passion, they got things done, and I – we - would have been truly lost without their help.

At least he slept well, unlike myself. I could hardly switch off long enough to call it sleep, more like rest, with one eye open. That was another reason I needed to find out what had happened. I knew I wasn't sleeping until then. When I did close my eyes all I saw was desert, sparse barren land. The man following behind. Me bracing to fight him. I stifled a shudder by rubbing my hands across my arms. God I was tense. Always so tense, afraid. I didn't like it, and it felt foreign. I didn't used to be like that. I was sure.

After I tucked him in to bed, I went to the bathroom, showered and pulled out the dress Amber had left for me at the front desk. It was long, silk and dusty rose. I hung it on the back of the door and regarded it distastefully. I hated it, but I wasn't about to be picky. Amber had also thrown in a travel make up pack. Going out tomorrow was going to be good for me. A distraction for me. I looked back at Jonah through the crack in the open door.

Sighing, I turned back and took a long look at myself in the mirror. "Who are you?" I asked my mirror reflection. I touched the area around my eyes. Hardly any wrinkles. I didn't look very young, so how old was I, about twenty five, thirty, maybe a good thirty five? I couldn't have been wearing something with my name, address or date of birth could I, no medical record number or telephone number on the back of a bracelet. I would have settled for a medical alert bracelet, anything.

Leaning back, I looked myself over again. I was olive toned in my complexion, fit, as if I used to work out regularly. My muscles felt strong and I was taut. but lean, so obviously I didn't work out all the time. The doctors had confirmed I was 5 foot 7 inches. So average in height. Average height, average weight, average appearance, no distinguishing marks. My hair was a natural ebony. No regrowth, and my cut looked like a standard layered job that was slowly growing out. How long had it been I wondered, since I sat in a hairdresser's chair, went to work, how long had I been gone from my old life? Why hadn't anyone missed me?

Reluctantly, I pulled my eyes from my reflection, knowing there were no answers, only questions. I put a long sleeve light blue jumper on, a pair of yoga pants and took myself to my usual resting perch for the night, where the small luggage rack sat at the base of the motel window, and pulled my knees to my chest. Cracking the curtain slightly, I peered out at the night sky, the stars blinking through light cloud cover.

The carpark was on the next level below so I could see out with limited distractions of buildings, people or traffic. I could hear everything well though. 'Hyper-vigilance' they had told me before discharging me from the hospital. They had warned me that given I had been through a trauma I might find I was hyper sensitive to all kinds of sounds, movements. Another survival mechanism. I sighed. It was exhausting, paying attention to everything, all of the time. A distraction was definitely what I needed. I found myself looking forward to the part on Saturday night.

When Saturday night came, I felt truly nervous. What would I talk about? The psychological ins and outs of post traumatic retrograde amnesia? How to live without a past? Daily motel life perhaps? I scoured the papers looking for general topics of conversation, thought back over the few books I had decided to read over the last couple of weeks. I suddenly felt panicked. This wasn't going to work.

Just as I was picking up the phone to cancel, I received a text message from Amber: _Don't even think of cancelling. Be great to see you there tonight. Taxi on it's way._ OK. That was a sign. I was supposed to go out tonight.

The taxi arrived not ten minutes later and we piled in. The drive was pleasant, about 25 minutes through the town, past the expressway and out to a semi-rural area. Jonah looked outside the window, at the various landmarks, then animals as we approached. The area was one of interesting contrast, lots of houses built together in community projects, but then surrounded by trees, patches of empty fields. As we drew closer, there were less lights, more windy roads, less houses and more trees. Finally, we pulled up into a driveway.

The house was enormous, and not at all what I expected. I had imagined a rustic two storey home with surrounding old farm space that had been cleared in to fields. This place was perfection. Whitewashed splendor with a stenciled tarmac driveway, fountain and staircase leading to the front. It rose at least three storeys, and with every light in the house turned on it seemed to gleam and shine. I stood awestruck for a moment at the base of the steps once we squirmed out of the taxi.

A security guard at the front door ushered us forward. He had an earpiece and a clipboard to accompany his collared shirt and tailored pants, and I realised how very tall he was once I reached him. We looked up as though he were a wall, but he smiled graciously.

"Hey there guys! What's your names and I'll check them off the list?" But all that happened was Jonah shrank back against me, and my voice suddenly left me.

"It's OK" I comforted Jonah as I looked at the security guard. "This is Jonah. I'm...."

"Rachael!" I heard Amber's welcome voice over the din of laughing, chit chatter, and background music. Amber ran waving towards me, and looked as though she may already have had a touch too much to drink. She arrived and embraced me before leaning back to look at me. "You look fabulous!" She exclaimed looking me over.

"You too." I responded blushing. Jonah was already peering around me and into the large dining room that had the French windows thrown open.

Amber responded by kneeling to face him. "There are a few other kids inside, if your mom says it's alright, I'm sure they'd like to meet you. There's also snacks on the little table at the end I think you'll love." He looked up at me in anticipation, to which I nodded and he wandered inside tentatively.

"Don't worry." Amber assured me. The back is all secured, and very child proof. My cousins come over all the time so my brother made sure a long time ago that the kids didn't need to be followed around everywhere. Kes here," She said motioning to the security guard, "He knows not to let any of the little ones out, and this is the only open door. So you can spend some time meeting people with a clear head." Kes nodded in confirmation and Amber started ushering me inside. There were only a couple of children Jonah's age, and a few older ones, one around 10, one roughly 12, another about 14 years old. The rest were all adults feasting on light snacks, holding glasses of wine or beer. Maybe around 50 to 70 in total. And a couple of well worked waiters. It wasn't too many people for a get together, but I found it more than a little daunting after being more or less alone for so long.

I hesitated as Amber deserted me for a moment to bring back a glass of champagne. Almost as soon as she left me, a male voice sounded from behind me.

"Don't worry, they might be a little stuck up, but they won't bite." I turned to face a man of medium height in his late 30's. He had brown eyes that were slightly larger than proportionate to his face, but in a good way, and a rough beard that looked like a purposeful five o'clock shadow gone wild. He stood hovering above me, and looked approachable, intelligent.

I paused desperately searching for words. "I just don't know anyone here, I just got here, so I'm not sure where to start."

"Well if you don't know anyone, you must not have an invitation, which means I'll have to have you thrown out." I felt horrified and took a step back before the expression on his face changed to one more pleasant. He reached a hand out to take my arm lightly. "Jeez, relax. I was just kidding. My sister said you were a little high strung, but seriously. Sorry. I didn't mean offence." I relaxed again.

"I'm Rachael." I started again. "I'm afraid my sense of humour is a little off base at the moment."

He smiled and I let his friendly face centre me.

"I see you met my brother Sabian." Amber said as she re-approached me, two glasses in hand. She handed me my drink before turning to face Sabian. "Nice party Sab. Think you invited every one of your suck ups or just the ones you like the most?"

"Funny, I thought I just invited _your_ friends tonight." Sabian faked a search through the crowd as though double checking their faces. Amber dramatically grimaced at the joke, before smiling at me. They both fake laughed.

"We're twins." She clarified as though that settled everything.

"That's her." I heard a woman whisper behind me. I tuned in, but refused to react, not being sure what the woman was commenting on.

"The one on the front of the paper. The one that lost her memory?" Came another whisper in response. I turned slowly on that remark, knowing it was intended for me. Two middle aged women turned their heads as if to disguise their indiscretion.

"Don't listen to the gossip." Sabian said. My field of vision refocused on to him.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would be a good idea to tell the parents that Jonah couldn't speak so they could prep their kids. One thing led to another. I hope that's alright." Although I knew Amber had meant well, I felt a turn in my stomach. This wasn't the safe haven I was hoping for.

"Of course." I muttered, but looked at the floor.

"Drink up." Sabian said throwing back the rest of his champagne glass. "It helps."

#  Chapter 2: Sabian

_She looks so nervous_. I had thought to myself just before my sister had handed Rachael the glass. Clearly, I shouldn't have joked around with her. My sense of humour was more one people excused rather than enjoyed - most of the time anyway. Now at least Rachael looked like she was a little more relaxed. Her shoulders seemed to have dropped a little, she smiled weakly. Still, it was only a few minutes into it, and we hadn't introduced her to anyone else yet. I hoped Amber hadn't managed to 'warn' everyone about her. I know her heart was in the right place, that's why she had chosen the field of work she was in, but still, she had a surprising knack of forgetting the basic principals of privacy, trust and knowing your own business.

This lack of foresight usually coincided with a topic that surrounded an interesting person she could parade in front of others, asking for donations, free medical access, furthering her department's resources, such as in this case. Someone she could show off to the others about the people she helped, her chosen vocation. If she wasn't so self centred she might make a good socialite and fundraiser like our mother, but as for the hands on work – maybe I was selling her short.

Though Amber clearly brought this poor girl here tonight to show off to the crowd, she also was very attuned to Rachael's needs, seemed invested in helping her and her kid. Maybe a short dog and pony show in the interests of the end goal wasn't such a bad thing for her, but I wished people would stop whispering before Rachael heard any of it. Poor girl, the fireball she had left of the car had made the front page. Drove it straight into the local police station.

"Sabian, are you listening to me?" Amber's voice intruded. I drew my attention to her. "Sabian, Kes is calling you over."

"Thanks, I'm sure its nothing. Excuse me." And I left the two of them to find out what was going on. "Kes" I addressed the man whom I had known for the last 8 months as protector and trusted staff. "What's going on?"

"Nothing I hope boss, just wanted to let you know the phone and internet lines are out." Kes responded. "I was looking to confirm a taxi for one of your friends and found the disconnection.

"Out? Completely?" I asked.

"Hmm. Only problem with the phone and internet being connected off the system like that."

"The emergency alarm still works though."

"No fault."

"Great, then aside from the fact the report I have due tomorrow is going to be a bitch, we're fine. We can sort it in the morning."

"No problem, just wanted to make sure you knew."

"Thanks. See you a bit later, hey. I have a cigar with your name on it."

"Count me in Sab."

I headed back to the party and automatically sought out Amber. As I did I passed Helen, a tall slim woman with too much social time on her hands. She was regaling someone with a horror story of how she had known someone killed in a hostage situation in town three weeks ago. She loved to scare the pants off people that one. I sighed and headed towards Amber and Rachael as quickly as I could. So long as Amber wasn't speaking with Natasha yet, I was set.

Damn. There they were. Natasha and Amber. My wife and my sister – no way _that_ was going to go wrong. I downed the rest of my drink in a hurry and picked up another as it floated past me on a tray. With the ups and downs our relationship had had lately, I didn't need my sister feeding in to the situation. I made my way over quickly, but they stopped talking and changed the subject as I approached.

"Hey cutie, how are you handling the crazies?" Natasha teased. She always called the local crowd we circled with that. 'The crazies'. Like that was going to help us fit in. We had both been nearly ostracized as 'new money' jokes had flowed in from our neighbors, then pointed comments from people we had called friends, followed by blatant, shameless requests for money by others. When Natasha had a sudden break inheriting land overseas from a relative that had become disengaged from the family, we had made the decision to sell half, and build on half with the remaining money. Hotels. I had always loved the idea of building, she had always enjoyed holidaying at resorts, and the places we built were taking off. The plots we had kept were seaside locations which fed us a steady income, and gave us a place to stay when we wanted to get away. .

Natasha in particular had been spending a lot of time in making their management and service delivery perfect. I had started travelling around with her initially, but then had come home to set up building our place. Our home. Only she had barely spent time here since I flew back. I knew it wasn't anything insidious. Not an affair at least. She wasn't like that, but the time apart had found us, well, exactly that - Apart. I argued that part of her time spent travelling and babying the hotels was about substituting for the fact we hadn't had kids. We had had _that_ argument over the phone a month ago and I was still regretting it.

I was having trouble connecting with her, and she was avoiding spending time alone with me. Superficially she would socialize, converse, drop details of all her comings and goings, but time alone was filled with awkward pauses. Only last night I had told her we needed to try harder. Do things together and she had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to spend the next three months with me here before thinking about going overseas. Just tonight, as. I had been floating around introducing myself, I had overheard her talking to a broker about how people grow apart as people, that maybe the expectation to be with one person forever was fallacious. My stomach churned, I knew what she meant, but I still couldn't accept that that would apply to me.

I didn't want to guilt her, I knew she felt enough of that already, but I did want my wife back. I was getting sick of spending time with Kes, and quite frankly, I think Kes was just as tired of entertaining me. But of all the well meant intentions, Amber was not the most subtle person I knew. I could imagine the innocent conversation in my mind as I approached the two of them. Amber would start off asking how long she was staying, saying how good it would be for me to have her around, reading too much into it all. I was nervous enough. Though at least I wasn't as nervous as Rachael obviously was. She was still standing politely where I had left her, next to Amber, peering around the room. I drew close to them straining my mind to find something to kick off a casual conversation.

"Nat, you met Rachael I see." Even _I_ was using the poor girl as a pleasant distraction. Way to go Sab. Upstanding. That's what I was.

"How couldn't I? She's the only one in here with a personality." Natasha smiled at Rachael, who smiled back.

"If you dislike them so much, why did you invite them here?" Rachael queried.

"We don't _not_ like them, it's just most people here we know through business, the bank, fundraisers. We need to keep up the invites, or we lose connections." I reasoned.

"They are 'yes' people, not _real_ people." Natasha offered pressing against me protectively, and grasping my arm with both her hands. She couldn't be jealous – could she?. Rachael was sweet, but a bit young for me. She was good looking, but not exactly my type. I liked mysterious. That's how I had met Natasha. She had met me when I was on Kontiki tour through Germany. She had been the tour guide, having moved from England to follow her travelling interests. She knew so much about Europe's sights, the best places to find...anything, but had kept everything to herself. She had barely given me any details about her life outside of being our guide, her background, just kept diverting my questions with her quick wit and knowing smile. She remained mysterious and elusive right up until the end of the tour. Eventually though, I scrounged up enough cash to extend my stay for another tour. When she saw I booked in to a second round of the same tour, she had agreed to a drink, which turned in to dinner, then breakfast, and which turned in to her losing her job. Not that she really seemed to mind. Natasha never really liked sticking with one thing for too long, she despised obsessions as a waste of time, and she had said she was ready to move here, with me, to start fresh. She squeezed my hand as she talked with Rachael.

"Seriously though, there are some worthwhile people here. Rick went to uni with Sab." Natasha pointed out a tall, balding man with an approachable face. "He is the one with the daughter, Kati, who is 15 going on 25. The one in the corner trying to look like she is blending, but texting her boyfriend every 15 seconds. His wife is a little..." she made a squeaky sound and pitched a hand back and forth implying Sandra was a little unstable.

"Greg and Gary are fun" Amber offered smiling into her glass recollecting time with them before looking up again. "I went camping with them once and I was never so well catered for. Lights, first class wine, DVD player, fans in the tent...."

"Sounds like you really roughed it" Rachael enthused back.

"Larissa and Jacinta are actually good people too. You have to ask them a little later about their time climbing Kilimanjaro. Awesome adventurists. I looked over at the two women who were pointed out, both skinny, with overly tanned skin and overly white teeth. "None of them are front pagers, but they are definitely worth the time of day."

"I'll go save them from Dave, bring them over to say hello." Amber decreed, and disappeared into the crowd.

Natasha took a look back at Rachael. "You though, you're front page material." Before I could intervene, she dropped her tone and continued on "I think it's just awful what happened to you. And to not be able to remember....I don't think I could take that."

The smile faded from Rachael's face as Natasha spoke. Someone passing by jolted her arm and Rachael spilled wine on herself. Looking like she was struggling to breathe, Rachael dismissed herself and disappeared just as Natasha's face fell.

"Oh Sab, I didn't mean to upset her." Natasha rued out loud as I followed Rachael. I caught up with her in a second, her eyes welling slightly.

"I'm fine." Rachael protested when she saw me. "I just need to find the kitchen, or the bathroom."

"Come with me" I offered and guided her to the side, a few people staring as we passed by. I brought her into an alcove that was at the end of the hall and next to my study. If there was a wall across the entranceway, you wouldn't notice it was there, only because it ate into the space past the kitchen and behind the entertaining area. Rachael flopped down on the couch that was against the back wall, covered in pillows. She took a steadying breath and stared past me trying not to cry. She noticed a button encased in glass on the side of the wall.

"What's that for?" Rahcael asked to distract herself.

"This space is actually the safe room." I answered her. "I had it built into the design as a just in case measure." I had always thought of safe rooms as being something you would rather have and not need than need and not have.

Rachael half laughed at me. "That's a little pessimistic don't you think?"

"Pessimism keeps people alive." She smirked at my remark and I leaned back into the cushions satisfied.

"So what is it you do?" She asked of me.

"I write, I research. I.... Consult." I stumbled the answer for a reason. I was growing despondent with what I was doing. While Amber was all purpose and little business focus, I had become the opposite, all business, no heart in my day.

"That sounds..." Rachael started encouragingly, so I cut her off.

"Boring as hell, but I'm good at it so....."

Rachael looked around and furrowed her brow. "Don't you have enough money to do pretty much whatever you want?"

"I'm not that rich, but I suppose I could do something else, something I liked....but, it would probably help if I knew what that was. I used to have drive, passion for what I did, but lately....not so much." I sat forward again and leant my elbows on my knees. I looked over at her, gazing at me intently. "If you get any ideas, let me know. I'm open to suggestions."

"Me?" she declared amusedly. "I had to learn my name off the ring I wore." Rachael took the single worn gold band she wore on her middle finger. Handing it to me I rolled it in my fingers. There was an inscription on the inside: _to Rachael - stay cool._

_"_ Stay cool?" I responded in jest and handed her back the ring.

"I know. Sexy hey." She joked back.

"What if it's not your ring?" I asked hesitating as the words left me.

"I thought about that, but I have a ring mark on my hand. It's mine. And I feel like I've been wearing it forever."

"At least something feels right. Right?" I encouraged.

"Yeah." she acknowledged. "Maybe I'm meant to have a new start. Maybe it's something I needed." she added thoughtfully.

I nodded and decided it was time to get back to the party. "Stay here as long as you want. No ones in a hurry to come back here." I said rising from my seat.

"Too busy schmoozing" she stated.

"Too busy drinking my expensive wine." I joked and took a few steps forward before Jonah careened in to me as he rushed around the corner. It took a split second before I realized how pale he was, a look of panic etched on his young face. As Rachael stood, responding to the look on the young boy's face, a gunshot rang out.

As I made it around the corner towards the main room, I was rushed by the three catering crew with their hands on the back of their heads. I pressed forward any how just in time for the rest of my guests to move towards me, and for me to catch the sight of Kes lying in a pool of his own blood on my front verandah.

I initially saw two men, one who addressed us with authority, standing behind another with a shotgun. "Everyone. To the Back. That way, now!" he barked with intent.

"Move it, move it." Shotgun man said, supporting the one giving the orders, their leader.

My heart lurched as I was pushed back, Natasha grabbing at me and pulling me with her. Only Helen, a banking executive stood trembling and shell-shocked.

A third man appeared "Hey lady, what's the delay. Get your lanky arse in the back with everyone else." He also carried a gun, but it was smaller, though not any less deadly.

"Everyone on the floor." Yelled the man who appeared to lead the others. We all obliged without exception. "Paul!" he said to the man who had directed Helen, "You're on the door." Nodding in acknowledgement Paul took the door post while he took the front of the safe room location. They had herded us in the back - cornered us in the safe room. I doubted it was a happy coincidence for them. Here, there was no way out other than past them. Another man stood next to the button. If activated, the door would slam shut, locking us safely in. The silent alarm would be triggered. If only.....

"Shit. Shit shit shit." Rick muttered.

"Don't worry. Everyone, be calm. We will be fine. We just need to do what they say, they can go, and we will all be alright." I advised running on adrenaline and a false sense of security. I say false because Rachael spoke to me from her spot on the floor beside me holding her hands on Jonah's head which rested against her body. She explained what everything was really like in just a few chilling words.

"No. We won't be alright." Rachael looked at me when she spoke, her calm but serious face pitting my stomach further. "No one's wearing masks, they call each other by their real names." She whispered. The men near us were busy whispering amongst themselves, or I was sure Rachael and I would have been told to stop talking.

"Their real names..." I mumbled back confused.

"They don't flinch. There is no delay when they call each other by the names. They aren't fake names. They aren't worried because none of us will be left to tell." Rachael held a finger over her lips. "Don't frighten the others. But no one is getting out of here tonight."

"Sabian." Natasha took my hand for comfort for the first time in six weeks.

"It's alright honey." I responded on automatic pilot.

Another man appeared at the peripheral and produced a material bank money bag, a handgun in his belt. . "All the jewellery. Any cash." he ordered. As he walked around, everyone complied without question or complaint. When he finished, he returned to stand behind the leader of the group. "Ready Danno?" the head guy asked him.

"Ready Penn." Was the reply.

Penn nodded towards Shotgun who pushed the gun in my face. "You! Where is the safe? Now!"

"The third room on the left. In the wall behind the couch." I wasn't about to start messing these guys around before I could at least figure out what we could do next to help ourselves. I had a vague recollection of seeing headlines lately. Socialites slaughtered. Someone had been talking about it at the party earlier. I hadn't been paying attention. What had they said? My stomach turned again and I began to breathe even more quickly.

"What's the code?" Penn insisted on me with the help of Shotgun.

I could feel the sweat break out on my brow. "No code, it has fingerprint recognition."

"Right". Said Penn as he grabbed my wrist, jerked me forward away from the others and flattened my hand on the floor. Instinctively I struggled, until Shotgun moved to stand on my back. Penn held my hand out down, drew out a long knife from a sheath attached to his calf. Natasha shrieked, a couple of other women screamed and I heard gasps over the sound of my pulse hammering through my head. I tried to breath deeply but my breath was arrested in my throat. He hiked up the blade ready to take my fingers. "Which one do I need?"

Amber stood up from the back of the room. "Stop, stop it. Leave him alone."

Still standing on my back, Shotgun fired at her without a second thought. Blood sprayed across the room. I felt it spatter on my face. They shot her. Killed my sister. No warning, no anything. The sound of the blast rang through my head and deafened me. Only just, barely audible behind the ringing I could hear my heart pounding though I felt like my heart had stopped beating altogether. Natasha wept into her lap beside me and I mentally willed her to be quiet, not to draw attention to herself.

"That's what's going to happen if any one of you thinks you can be a fucking hero. Don't forget it and everything will end with you making it home tonight."

There were stifled sobs in the background.

The man with the knife turned back to me. "Now. You!. Quick which one. Don't think about it."

"It's warm. It's a warm system....." I stammered.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Demanded Shotgun.

"You can't just take the finger - you need the person." Replied Penn replacing his knife. He let my hand go and I withdrew it to my body protectively, Shotgun taking his foot off my back. I nursed my wrist, waiting for him to jerk me to my feet, but he didn't. "Take the wife. She'll have access." Came his response.

They pulled Natasha to her feet.

"No, don't take her. I'm fine, I won't be trouble." I got the shotgun pressed against my forehead pushing me down towards the floor.

"Sit the fuck down." He replied, but I didn't move.

"Sit down!" A shot blasted behind me and caught Rick. He dropped to his knees and forward, his blood coating the back wall.

"Did I not make myself clear?" I made out Penn's words and heard the gun cock at the same time.

"Sab, do it, its alright." Natasha murmured, steadying her voice.

_No one is getting out of here Sabian._ I heard the words ring true in my ears. All they needed was the safe. Then we were gone. Sure. All lies. I sunk deeper to my knees, next to Rachael and her boy. She was so still, quiet, stroking his head in her lap, her feet behind her on the floor. She looked as though she could be at a picnic, staring at grass grow as she ushered her child to sleep. She even managed a half smile as his face gazed up at her.

"Hey you!" The sharp voice interrupted my thoughts

Penn was looking at someone else in the crowd. "Come here beautiful." Kati, Rick and Susan's girl, looked around disbelieving. "Yeah. You. Come here, take my hand." She stood trembling, but her mother dragged her back down.

"No, No no, no... " Her mother sobbed, but the man with the gun just stepped forward and smacked her in the head. Susan fell unconscious to the floor. Kati whimpered.

"Come on, come forward." Kati rose to her feet, extending her hand to take his. He led her through the crowd and around me and I knew I wasn't able to sit here and let any more of this nightmare happen. The man stroked her shoulder as she held back tears. I had just moved less than an inch when I felt her hand still me. Rachael looked at me and put my arm on Jonah's shoulder.

"There's nothing you can do Sab." She looked down at the resting head in her lap. Jonah looked almost placid, as though he was completely detached from what was happening, the seriousness of what was going on. "Make sure he's alright Sabian." I was confused. What did she mean?

"Shut up and stop talking". Shotgun commanded of us.

I looked at Rachael. She seemed so still, so confident. Whether you call it trauma or shock, I didn't protest. Didn't know what else to do. Jonah moved into the side of my body as Rachael stood up. The gun pointed straight at her but amazingly he didn't shoot.

Penn turned to her. "Sit down. Right now." In spite of his orders Rachael stood her ground.

"I just thought I would offer you something you can't get from a her, unless of course, you like little kids...." The gun shifted towards her and Penn had a rancid look on his face.

"Fuck. You Bitch." He abandoned Kati and took a step forward grabbing Rachael by the back of her scalp and wrenching her backwards. He re-drew the knife and placed it at her throat. I covered Jonah's eyes.

Rachael spoke quickly. "I can be whatever you want. I know what I'm doing, she doesn't. Do whatever you want to me. I'll beg you to hurt me, beg you to stop. Fight. Whatever you want.". Penn let go of her hair in a sudden move and eased the knife slightly. Rachael moved her hand to sooth the nape of her neck.

He regarded her, for the longest space in time before looking back at Kati. The girl shivered and trembled.

"Go sit back down." Kati stumbled through the crowd and dropped back at her mother's side.

I watched wide eyed as the man with Rachael walked around her. She was surprisingly placid in spite of all that had happened. I held my breath as he walked, eyeing her over until he came to stop nose to nose. She met his eyes and he nodded as though agreeing with himself.

At the same moment, I saw Natasha out of the corner of my eye. She was brought back in to the room and over to us. She fell to the ground near me.

"We good?" Penn asked, without moving.

"All good." Came the response of the men I hadn't seen up until now. "Danno is bagging everything up now."

"Excellent. I'm going next door with this one for a while. Keep them in line." He said referring to us, as though he was going to get any resistance.

The other men smiled in acknowledgement, unmoved by the decision of their leader. This was not unusual then.

Rachael followed him out of the room, though he dragged her by an iron grip on her upper arm as though she resisted. I struggled to take in breath, or at least not throw up. I had to close my eyes to keep from throwing up. So this was it, the end of my life. Ironically in a safe room. This was where the police or security would find my body.

Penn had taken Rachael into the study room next to us. I heard him turn on the radio, find music to his liking and just a few short seconds later I heard a hit, things falling off my desk. I heard a crash, a thud, the grunts of her protests, the smash of the wall mirror, and then there was a quietness. My body felt like ice. Natasha placed her head in my lap. She had stopped crying. Everyone was quiet, frozen in shock and terror.

It was then the lights went out. There was a brief moment of tension for our captors.

"What's going on Ray?" Shotgun asked switching on a flashlight he produced from his bag.

"Nothing. We're fine, nothing out here. I would have seen someone out here if they were shutting power." Two of the three others also found their flashlights and turned them on.

"Not if they did it from the street." Came a nervous response.

"There's nothing to worry about. We're good. But I'll feel better once we are on our way though." Ray assured. "But what's taking so long. He's usually the two minute wonder, today he takes his time".

"Christ don't let him hear you say that Ray." Shotgun warned.

"Whatever Dub." Ray responded un-phased.

The tension eased slightly, and I heard the study door open. A slim figure emerged in the half light.

"Hey. She lives." Dub AKA Shotgun blurted, half surprised and half confused.

"She stands." Added Ray sounding surprised.

Rachael stood there in the bare light. All I could see was her standing there, skin almost bare except for a camisole she had been wearing under her dress her underwear. Her head was leant down, her hair matted, hanging down in front of her face. Still she just stood there.

"Hey princess, if you're still standing, he's not done with you. Isn't that right Penn?" The one they called Danno called down the hall, but there was no answer. Rachael started walking then. Dragging one leg behind her. The men turned their flashlights to her. As the light hit her skin we saw she was covered in blood.

What had he done to her? Limping, covered in blood, she looked up through the hair strung across her face. She looked barren of emotion. _In shock_ , I told myself. I pressed Jonah's head away from the sight.

Danno called again as Ray took a nervous step backwards "Penn. Penn. Where the fuck are you? Finish her off and let's wrap this night up man. We're all waiting for you." He walked a few paces to the hallway entrance. Not daring to walk in and disturb Penn, he stood in the doorway peering down the hall, shining his flashlight.

"Something's wrong." Ray stated nervously.

Shotgun had walked around to Rachael now, shotgun pointed at the floor. He ran a finger across her shoulder blades as though in admiration. As he walked around her, Rachael turned slightly until her back faced our little group. She was covered in blood. I had never seen anything so confronting, so painful. She was shaking, and her leg looked maimed somehow. As she limped in a semi circle so as to avoid having her back to Shotgun, I saw a large gash across the back of her upper thigh. Blood seeped from it still, but something was lodged in her skin.

"I love a woman put in her place, covered in her own blood. Quiet. Still. Obedient." Shotgun stroked up her chin and licked the blood that gathered from his fingertip. Rachael raised her head ever so slightly towards him as she reached behind her to the cut in her thigh.

Almost in a sing song fashion, she whispered to him: "Not my blood."

Shotgun took a moment to catch on. By then, Rachael had started withdrawing a length of glass from her leg. The shard was large enough that I winced as she produced it slowly from the wound. It ran half her thigh, broader at the top which she held like a handle, than at the tip. Broken glass. She had hidden this huge piece of glass in her skin, between flesh and muscle.

It felt like it took a very long time, but in fact it must have been only a second or two, because shotgun hadn't had the time to react before Rachael thrust the glass into his neck, cutting off the plea for help, and impaling him. She grabbed his hand which held the gun, but he refused to relinquish it.

Kicking upwards she struck his hand which caused the gun to go off before falling to the ground. She followed the path of the gun with her eyes, then flicked a glance up at the emergency button that would seal the room. Both were out of reach, as Ray and Danno launched themselves towards her. Rachael leaped out of the way of one of Ray's fists deftly, grabbed at the knife in the ankle hoster he boasted and swung upwards taking three fingers from his left hand. As he stumbled backwards in agony she moved deftly, dashing to the counter across the room from us, as another man arrived, coming in from guarding the outside. He fired a shot, but missed her as she ducked to the side, constantly moving.

Paul was still at the door calling out to his friends. "What's going on?. What's happening? Do you need me?" Everyone was too busy to answer. Rachael had reached the counter and taken a loose DVD disc from it. Snapping it in half, she threw the pieces at the two men approaching her, Danno and the other guy with the gun. The other guy just got himself out of harms reach, sliced across the cheek by the sharp edge of the broken disc. The other half of the disk embedded in Danno's thigh. A gun went off unexpectedly as there was a yell in response to the pain.

Rachael kept moving, latching on to, and hurling a chair throughout the air and on to the head of Danno, who dropped to the floor. She propelled herself off him and through the air as Paul arrived to finally see what the commotion was. Feet connecting with his head which buckled backwards, she easily landed on the ground, then changed direction as another gunshot rang out. Running towards us, all I could do was stare in horror and amazement at her, how she moved and the carnage that followed. Skidding along the floor, Rachael kicked the shotgun that still lay there, so that it propelled to my knees.

We sat in our places dumbfounded at the events, still unmoving and helpless. I was frozen, watching Rachael move in ethereal form, attacking our assailants. As soon as the shotgun hit my bent knee, she was standing again. Two of the men facing her down. Balancing on one leg, she used the other to kick behind her and hit the emergency close button. Our door slid closed, the silent alarm triggered, and the last thing I saw was Rachael standing her ground as Ray, who had regained himself, approached her, rage etched into his features. The other man was doing something strange. Standing with his face upturned, shaking as though he was having some kind of fit, and his hands gnarled as though in extreme tension or pain.

The door slid closed, and I held the gun in my hand, shaking, waiting to wake up to reality.

#  Chapter 3: Sam

When I arrived on the scene the usual police tape was in place, uniforms everywhere, but everyone was outside, even techies who would usually be inside photographing, tagging and doing their thing. The house lights were out, but I could see the front porch bathed in the spotlights, flashing lights and a cloth over a body by the glass French doors. There were two ambulances, and at least forty people strewn around outside in various stages of shock and processing, paramedics attending to them in turn. Because of the mayhem I had to park further away than I liked. Maybe I had become spoilt over the last three years since I moved up to Detective.

I searched for James' figure and finally found it. Heading towards him, I made my way through mud to gravel, following the driveway. This was the third scene like this one in the last four months. I knew what I expected to see tonight. I hadn't expected all the victims to still be standing though.

James had beaten me to the call out as usual. I swear that man would just sit in his car waiting in his freshly ironed clothes for a call. Working with James had been one hell of an experience, it had taught me so much. He leaned against the doorway, his crisply starched suit barely giving way.

James spoke to me without even turning around to confirm my presence. "The power is still out. One of the techies is working on the system. Looks like some kind of power surge, so it should only be another couple of minutes. Once the alarm was tripped, the boys were notified by security when they turned up to find a veritable bloodbath. Once the place was swept first time around, we got the people out."

So what happened to them? I asked assuming he already knew. It had been long enough to let the ambulances arrive and start screening guests, so it was long enough for us to start taking statements.

"Well shaggy...." I made a face at the comment, in spite of the fact he couldn't see me. He had started calling me that last week on account that I had let my hair grow enough to fall in my face. Even as I frowned, I unconsciously pushed my hair back and out of my eyes. "....it seems getting a statement was easy enough. Everyone saw the same thing. Our friends busted in, "James pointed to three of the bodies on the floor. "They forced everyone in to the back, but, this time..."

"They lived through it." I ended his sentence for him. "So it is the same crew."

James began listing their names. "Ray Cress, Paul Vickers, Daniel Schubert, Frank Penn.... and two yet to be identified."

**"** What happened this time?" I asked to bring me up to speed.

"Same as the others, up until the point one of the guests goes ape and takes out the lot of them. Two guests and one guard killed, one person missing and six chronic offenders slashed, guttered, and gored."

"One guest did this! What was he, a Special Ops member?" I was knocked over by the idea of one person taking down this crew. They were animals.

"No, _she_ isn't." Came the amused reply.

"She! You're kidding." I bumbled.

"No indeed I am not. Guess who it is, which makes the situation all the more interesting."

"I'm in suspense...." and losing my patience.

"The Jane Doe that turned up in the middle of nowhere, crashing that car into the station." James smiled as though satisfied immensely by the surprise on my face – not that I didn't try and hide it well.

"Front Page Jane Doe. No memory, no leads to who she was, where she came from?" I refined.

"The one and the same." I looked around the milling people trying to set sights on her, and James regarded my reaction with amusement.

"You think she's a bit of a celebrity don't you?" My head snapped back to give him a sharp look, almost embarrassed at my childish reaction. "Don't waste your time. She's the one missing, but I'm not game to send anyone in to start tearing up the place to find her without some decent light to help the situation. Her kid is sitting over in one of the ambulances though."

"What was the feedback from the witnesses?"

"When they burst in, they rounded everyone up as per usual, killed a couple of guests including the host's sister. The head honcho Penn picks out some poor girl to abuse, and before he does, our Jane Doe steps forward to take her place. No one moves to help, because they were all too traumatized" he remarked snidely before moving on. "Then she re-appears after the lights blow and starts picking off our guys. She hits the emergency button, closing the safety door, triggering the alarm, and here we all stand now. Three have been taken to hospital for shock already, the rest will all probably spend the next month in a Xanax haze – Lord knows, to be honest, I would if I were them."

"Shit. So this one woman kills the bad guys, saves the day. No joke." I half laughed.

"Lights on!" Came a yell from the side of the house.

James gave a frustrated sigh. "Thank God. Took long enough. Now we might be able to start cataloguing things properly, and finding this girl."

The lights threw everything in to sight, and what a sight it was. We were standing on the front porch, next to a security guard who had been shot. Blood was everywhere, and if I thought it was messy there, I had another thing coming. Walking through the open entertainment/dining room, the polished light wood floor glistened under the down lights, though as we moved towards the room where the guests had been kept the floor glistened in blood instead.

The devastation was phenomenal. Several of them must have had arteries hit. Blood stains and streaks covered the walls. The bodies in here had not been covered yet, and as I picked over them I noted one impaled with glass looked like he had been dragged out, a couple of random fingers lying in his wake, and another man had his head nearly severed. We came to the site of the safe room and I stepped over another body lying in the doorway leading to the hall. Forensics followed us, taking photos, and tagging items for evidentiary purposes.

"Following the trail, I came to the study and saw Penn, the self appointed leader of the crew laying across the desk split from throat to groin. Blood still dripped, slowly from the pool of it on the table, on to the floor. James joined me at the doorway."

"Jesus." James exclaimed.

"Brutal." I concurred.

"Then some. What a mess." James said as he and I circled the room. There was a smashed wall mirror, everything from the desk and half the bookshelf lay on the floor and wood paneling had been ripped out.

Something caught my eye just then. A sign on a piece of dislodged wood paneling wedged between the desk Penn's body lay on and the wall. "What's that?" I pointed at what looked like a sign or symbol. There was the shape of an arrow and what looked like a sharp edged infinity sign.

We took a few steps closer, and James sunk to his knees to examine the mark. "It looks like rune marks."

"Rune marks." I mused curiously.

"My wife is in to some of that new age stuff. I'm sure I've seen something similar." He noted.

"What would they be used for? Ritual? Symbolism? There hasn't been anything like this at the other sites." I noted.

Just then I saw it. "James" I called as calmly as I could. "James. Come back a bit." He knew the tone in my voice, and immediately moved to stand, but it was too late. I had only just seen a glimmer of light strike her hair which had moved. It was almost unperceivable, her black hair against the black shadows. As James took a step back she rushed us, using the paneling as a shield to push us back and protect herself at the same time. James was pushed onto his back, and she stood raising the board to strike him when I shot her with the taser. She instantly fell to the floor, eyes rolling back and trembling. I helped James to his feet and he spent a moment regaining his wits while I called for an ambulance officer.

When I turned back he was looking at her, hovering over her and pulling out the prongs.

"James. Step back, she might come to." In spite of my caution, he simply looked back at her calmly.

"She was just in shock." He dismissed. "Didn't know who we were that's all. She's fine Sam. I'm fine."

The ambulance officer checked her vitals and his partner followed behind. Almost at the touch of his hand, she reached up and grabbed his hand, even with the current still running through her. She started to push the first officer off, but the second jabbed her with a syringe and she lulled into unconsciousness.

"We'll have to take her in straight away," the paramedic directed towards me. "And I don't want her waking up here again." Said the first officer. James acknowledged them and we walked out to give them some room to work on getting her on a stretcher.

"I'm taking the evidence back to the office, can you go interview the girl at the hospital?" James asked of me.

"You don't want to come?" James looked like he was struggling a bit. He wasn't the healthiest of guys I knew, but he also wasn't the worst. Today though, he just didn't seem engaged, seemed distant and as though he was pushing his limits.

James raised an eyebrow. "Do you still need me to hold your hand?"

I baulked. We almost always did these things as a team. It wasn't that I couldn't. "No –it's just usually there are two of us."

James started to walk out of the room. "Get one of the blues to sit in." He directed.

I followed him out the door. "Sure. Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine as I can. Just tired, that's all. It is late unless you haven't noticed."

I smirked and headed away from the house and back towards my car.

I arrived at the hospital, knowing she would have been knocked out from the sedatives and unable to speak for a while. I expected she would possibly still be asleep now, so I was surprised when I arrived to find her awake, sitting up and resting her head on her knees stating out the window at the rising sun.

She looked so passive, so quiet and reserved compared to the short time ago I had seen her, full of rage, soaked in blood. Rachael had been cleaned up, the drugs worn off and was now in hospital issue gown, handcuffed to the rail of her bed. I watched her for a moment from through the door.

"How has she been?" I asked one of the boys posted at her door.

"Quiet. Hasn't said anything, hasn't been any trouble."

"Hmmm". I was wondering what she would say. She was so pretty, so quiet and just panicked looking enough to tell me that she was worried, but not because of what she'd done, more what was going to happen. I had seen that face before, a dozen times or more. She spied me looking at her through the door and I saw her chest rise higher as she breathed deeper. For the longest moment we stared at each other, and I found it hard to believe someone so petite, so delicate looking could have amassed so much carnage on her own.

I had heard of stranger things though. Adrenaline spikes, surges in reaction, physical strength, working on survival mode. Crisis situations brought out all kinds of interesting features in people.

"Come inside." I directed the man to my left and he obliged. Sucking in my breath, I pushed the door open and walked in with authority.

I took up the chair that was on offer and stayed out of arms reach, as I had been taught and told time and time again. In case they decide to take a swipe at you, which happened expected or not.

"My name is Detective Samuel Knott." I started. "I am here today to ask you some questions surrounding the events of yesterday evening. I need to remind you..."

"...that I can have legal representation... that I don't have to say anything.....I know. I remember from last time." She paused to give me a pensive look. "I don't remember anything to tell you anyway. I can talk to you. I'm not worried. I just want to know where my boy is. If he's safe."

"He's fine. He's with Social Services until you are released." I hesitated. It wasn't in my usual repertoire to try and comfort persons I was interviewing. She looked so...normal though. I had to remind myself she had only just been responsible for taking the lives of six grown men. No matter how despicable they were. "You must remember something." I pressed.

"I remember arriving at the party, meeting up with Amber and Sabian." She recalled.

"Sabian Pict – the owner of the premises." I clarified.

"Yes. I mainly stayed with Amber, but then I got upset." Rachael looked far away and hugged her knees.

"Why?" I enquired. She looked uncomfortable, and stretched out her legs out, I tried to look as if I wasn't noticing her movements, her bare thigh revealed by the blanched white sheet. Rachael re-arranged her posture as well, placing one of her arms behind her to carry her weight.

"Sabian's wife." Rachael offered. "She was saying how I must have been struggling with losing my memories." Rachael looked away. "I can't believe they killed Amber. There was no reason. Why - She just stood up for her brother. They could have warned her, she wouldn't have hurt them. Couldn't."

I nodded to indicate I understood, but otherwise bit my tongue trying not to console her. Tell her I sympathised. That I had seen the handiwork of these men before, and that anyone had walked away had been a damned miracle. She suddenly looked uncomfortable, her body stiffening.

I realised I had been staring I desperately sought to fill the blank space, looking down at my notepad to scribble details, then hurridly I asked another question of her.

"What _do_ you recall between getting upset by Mrs Pict's comments and Ms Pict being shot."

As she replied, her voice became increasingly agitated. "Sabian showed me this room I could go. The safe room. He told me I could stay there if I wanted. Jonah was playing with the other kids." Rachael reached up and placed a hand on her forehead as if staving off a headache. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Sabian and I were talking, then Jonah ran in and almost straight away there was a bang."

Rachael opened her eyes again and removed her hand from her face. "I could hear people screaming and yelling. Sabian ran out to see what was happening...." I could see her eyes flitting from side to side as she visualised what had happened. What had brought her here. "But he came back almost straight away with everyone. Everyone was herded into the room I was in. We sat on the floor. They wanted to get into the safe, were going to take Sabian's finger because they needed it to access, then Amber told them to stop. Then bang. The man with the shotgun killed her....just like that. That's all I remember. Maybe it is better."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, waiting for the answer. She was such an enigma. How could she forget everything like that. Just gone.

"Something Amber said to me once." She looked at me again and I saw her eyes glassy from the tears she was trying to fight back. "That maybe the things I really don't need to remember can stay locked away. Maybe I'm not missing anything at all. This way I get to remember the better things."

I didn't disagree, but I had a job to do. Still I wasn't going to treat her like a perpetrator unless I had to. "How do you think you killed all those people?"

Rachael shook her head, then met my eyes. "I don't know. I don't even think its possible is it? I couldn't have done what they say I did. There were so many of them – armed with knives, guns."

I shot a blaming look at the office at the door. No one should have been discussing any of the details, but continued on pressing her with questions. "If you can't remember how do you know they were _all_ armed?"

"Well they all walked in at some point to talk to the leader. The head of their group...I can't remember what they called him." She replied.

"Penn." I replied involuntarily.

"They all had some weapon. The one with the shotgun. The one with the rifle, the one with the regular gun – I don't know what to call it - the one with the knife on his leg, The other one with a big machete looking thing.....The other man, the one at the door. I don't know what you call it...."

"It doesn't matter." I dismissed.

"Do you remember leaving with any of them. Leaving the group?" I asked. Anything would be helpful, but she shook her head. "You left with one of them, and went into the other room." I prompted. "He was found gutted from his throat to his groin." She gulped in reaction to the visual, then shrugged lightly.

"I sighed out loud and leaned back in the chair. I regarded her with curiosity. I didn't get the sense she was pretending. That she was holding anything back.

"We might be able to get you in to someone who can help you remember. It might be useful to us to have that information." I had decided we needed another report. The shrink James was seeing was good.

"I'm already booked in to see someone. There was a wait but Amber booked me in." At least I knew she was willing.

"Amber the social worker." I questioned. She nodded.

"I'll get you in sooner. Maybe the next couple of days. Homicide has more pull than missing persons or Welfare." I declared this and stood as though I actually knew this was the answer to her issues and my questions, but she just smiled at me.

"So you're the reason my appointment has taken so long." What a contradiction she was. At least she could find a sense of humour in all this.

Before I left I asked her one more question. "What was the outcome of the investigation in to your circumstances?" I had already requested her file but wanted to see what she could tell me.

"Nothing. No missing person reports for either of us. Not even from school attendances. No identifying anything. No name-brand clothes, even my ring..." She spun it around her finger. "There's nothing special about any of it. I think they sent the inscription around to jewelers or something. I haven't heard anything."

Nothing. That wasn't completely unheard of unfortunately. I redirected the conversation. "So Social Services was linking you up with a place to live, helping with the kid?"

"Amber was talking with Housing. Then as soon as a place came up, we were enrolling Jonah into school, but they had paperwork and other things they have to prepare before he can start, and before they could move us somewhere. Turns out, if you don't have ID, you don't have much of a life." She took a breath before asking me what was on her mind. "Will you check he is alright....please."

I tried to stand firm but relented. This woman was nothing more than a victim striking back. God knows what she had been through before. She was right, maybe it was better she didn't remember. The fact she could switch off was a good thing. Surely. Still. Cross all the t's, dot all the i's.

"I'll check." I agreed, and turned to leave, but she reached out and just caught my sleeve.

"Wait. What happens to me now?"

"Once they release you medically, we'll take you back to the station to answer a few questions." Probably not I reasoned. Not until she had a psych exam.

"I don't have money for bail." She replied and I felt sorrier for her in that moment, more than any other until now. Nothing left, and she was going to end up in jail.

"You aren't under arrest Rachael. Do you want a lawyer? Do you have one?" She shook her head. "If you want someone, we can organize that. There was no more than that I could do for her. With that I moved away determined I had to put some distance and some sense between myself and her. She let her fingers slip from my sleeve and I felt a sudden loss.

"Thank you." She called after me. I simply gave a curt nod and left.

As I walked through the door, a doctor was busy waiting on the other side. "Ah, good. You're in charge yes?" He rushed at me. "Great. You can take her, she's fine."

"Fine – really?" I found that hard to believe.

"Well physically she has some bruising, a few scratches and a torn fingernail, but otherwise there was only a gash in the back of her leg. Looked like a piece of glass caught her, but she was lucky, minimal damage to the muscle, we sutured her skin while she was out. She can go." He handed me a discharge note. "For your records. And there's some clothes from the donation bin on their way with a nurse."

"You seem keen to get rid of her." I said it as though I was accusing him of something and it caught him off guard to begin.

"Are you kidding me? We need every bed we can get. The sooner she's gone the better. When she woke up so early from the sedative I was cheering."

I stopped to get a sandwich from the café outside the hospital, and decided to sit and eat, reviewing the notes I had taken. As I sat there, I saw them escort Rachael, limping from the hospital to the car, I watched her manner, and she quietly looked over at me.

Back at the office, I joined James in the resource room. He was going through footage from a camera on his own when I entered.

"How did you go with the interview?" He asked, turning to greet me.

"She can't remember anything." I replied easing into the chair next to him.

"Nothing?" James repeated.

"Nothing after the Social Worker being killed \- until she woke up in the hospital."

James eyed me quizzically. "Do you believe her?"

"Yes. I really do." I admitted. "But it's strange. She can't remember what happened to her last time. Can't remember what happened this time..."

"We've seen that before" He reminded me.

"Yeah, just odd, that's all."

"That's not _all_ that's odd. You need to see the tape to believe it." James swung around back towards the monitor and I waited to see what he thought was so strange.

"Tape?" I mocked. "We living in the 1980's again?

"Fine digital print, footage, whatever you want to call it. I took it straight from the system and on to this thing...." He pointed offensively at the USB stick before returning his attention to the screen. I had taught him to use the program last year and he had resisted all the way until the last case we investigated peaked his interest in the software and it's applications. James cued up the footage but paused it to speak. "There's nothing we don't already know from this time, or the last incidents before this point." Dramatically, he pressed the play button on the computer program and the footage started up as Rachael was being escorted out by Penn. "It's a loop camera. Only covers 8 hours at a time, and only from the one place in the house, just outside the safe-door, but it caught pretty much the whole event." I watched as she dispatched each of them, moving ethereally. She could have had top end training to move like that, kill like that. Just as the tape reached the point where the door closed one of the armed men stood strangely, head shaking from side to side as he looked up. It might have been having a fit, but the tape grained and struggled. Soon after all the flashlights went out and there was little that could be seen anyhow.

"What happened to that guy?" I voiced.

"Weird – hey!" James exclaimed.

James sighed, then looked at his tapping fingers thoughtfully before speaking to me again. "They killed over 200 people in raids like this.... 200 people Sam. It's such a shame she's going to be done for this. Saves a young girl from being brutalized, saves everyone left standing in that place and saves the legal system a bucket load of cash trying to put these bastards behind bars for a couple of years _if_ we manage to sift through all the court bullshit." He breathed heavily as though straining for a minute with his emotions.

"You alright James?" He didn't answer me. "Jim – You alright?"

"Sam." I could always tell when James had something more important to say. He used a tone I had become accustomed to in my training, and swung his chair around to face me before he continued talking. "I think I've had enough now." I shook my head not understanding exactly what he was saying, or not wanting to. "I'm going to let the job go after this case. Going to retire, head to where my kids are, warmer weather will do me good. I don't want to die on the job. Don't want to spend the last few years slowing down, surrounded by scum, and horror and pain until they force me out, or stick me on desk permanently."

"I can't imagine them getting rid of you in a hurry..." I tried to lighten the mood.

"Maybe not, but I've been seeing the shrink." I hadn't expected that. My uncomfortable pause made him shake a hand dismissively and turn away from me. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just thought I might get some perspective on what I want."

I could baulk or support him. But I knew for him to make this decision was a big deal. "Well, at least you don't have to wait until we catch the guys."

His face didn't lighten as I expected. Instead he looked directly back at me, locking me in to my place. "She did it for us, and now she's going to be raked over the coals. For doing everyone a favour. But you know what....." He reached for a delete button on the player application.

"What are you doing?" I jumped to my feet.

"Balancing justice." He said pressing the button. "The images were lost." He murmured on, stunning me further.

"I never thought you would do something like that." I tried not to shout.

"I've taught you a lot – I hope." Was his come back.

"Everything I know."

"Then let me teach you this lesson as well. Sometimes, the system doesn't work. Don't go vigilante – that's not what I'm saying.. That's not healthy, but sometimes when you know something is right, you'll have the choice to follow the book, or make it work. As long as you accept the consequences, even if you make a mistake.....then you can sleep at night. Sometimes the right thing isn't the right thing Sam."

"The tape was all they really had on her." I said out loud. "No one really saw more than her strike the first guy with the gun, then hit, but not kill the others."

"Self defense- killing the first, then they draw assumptions about the others being killed, she wasn't in her right mind, and no one really saw what happened. Should be enough with her mental health history for them to want to bury it. She'll be monitored, for a little while, and at least that will let her move on with things." He said it so matter of fact. James rose from his seat, turning off the monitor.

"I don't disagree, it just worries me." I said, voicing my concern.

"She has an inbuilt protection mechanism. She forgets, which protects her mind. We should all be so lucky."

"What happens when she remembers?" I asked grimly.

"So if you feel so on the fence about what's happening, why don't you shadow her, let her know you'll be following her up, so she stays in check, and you keep an eye on her." James pulled on his jacket.

"Good idea". I agreed. "For the meantime I'll finish off the paperwork then head home. How I'm going to write this report up is going to be interesting. Creative writing."

"I'll do the report." I gave him a surprised look. "My farewell gift." He appeased. "Save you the paperwork. Go home." He walked towards the entrance and headed out to his desk.

"I'm going to miss you." I was glad I said it, mushy as it sounded, even coming from me.

"I'm not dead you know, just taking a vacation." Was James' response as he left the room. I just couldn't believe he erased evidence.....

Maybe I was over thinking things. I left for home, grateful, but still couldn't quite shake this feeling I had over the whole situation. I was sure she wasn't lying, but that brutality, that disengagement needed to kill so many people like that.....survival mechanism or not, it didn't sit with me, or with the image of who she was. Quiet, non descript, soft, petite, and so calm looking. I would find her in the morning, take some time to let her know I was keeping an eye on her, and try and get a clearer read on the situation. Maybe even try interviewing the kids or the kids parents myself rather than rely on second hand testimonials. The whole picture troubled me, but I still managed to let sleep find me.

#  Chapter 4: Rachael

I sat in the cell, waiting for an impossibly long time, which also gave me an impossibly long time to think about everything that was happening. What the hell was going on with me? What the hell was wrong with me?

I felt sick. I had killed people, several people, and done it as though it were my second nature. And I still couldn't remember it, or anything from before. Had I killed people before? Was I actually dangerous? Would I hurt other people, or just the ones that tried to hurt me? I hoped Jonah was safe. I nervously stood up and started pacing the room, thinking hard, though I tried not to. I had a burning need to see him, Jonah, to hold him make sure he was alright.

All of a sudden it was all I could think of. The instinct burned into me from my chest, through my armband up into my head until the strangest sensation of rage took me, and strength ran through my body. I felt as though could bend steel and had to touch the bars. I grasped two of the cell bars and leant my head against them trying to breathe through the moment. I tried to let the rage subside.

Sam had said he could check on them. I couldn't exactly hold him to it, but he seemed to be a decent person. Seemed to be someone I could count on. Maybe.

A police officer walked in escorting another young woman in cuffs to a cell down the hall. As I watched him I felt a murderous impulse run through me. _There is something truly wrong with me._ I couldn't help the feeling, but at least I knew enough to know that wasn't the way to get Jonah back. I would have to keep my thoughts and feelings in check to do what I needed. I made myself sit back on the bed. Scrunching my knees up to my chest, I hugged them to me, my nails digging in to the flesh about my knees.

The clothes they gave me at the hospital didn't quite fit and the material itched. I sunk my head down ignoring the approaching footsteps. Instead I heard crying, disembodied cries, clanging sounds and a voice call: Rachael. It was hoarse, grating.

"Rachael." I heard Sam's voice this time. It brought my head back to focus. "I called someone. They are going to call me back about the boy." He stood outside the bars, unmoving. He followed through for me. He did what I asked even though he didn't have to. He looked at me pensively. "I was going to send someone around, to get some of your clothes. I couldn't find the key anywhere. Just need your permission to enter."

I was about to nod when a man in his late fifties barged in through the door behind Sam. Authoritarian, exuding power, he commandeered the room in an instant.

"Rachael don't say a word. All he is doing is trying to gain permission to enter your home without a warrant." These were the first words from the man's mouth.

_Why would it matter_? I wondered. "But there's nothing there to worry about." I answered the man before looking at Sam who looked sheepish.

"Thinking of charging her at all is an outstanding blunder." The impressively dressed man addressed Sam as though incredulous. "I don't think so. When you are ready to give the girl a medal and a ticker tape parade, you be sure to let me know." A card was thrust at Sam, who barely managed to grab it in time.

"You're her lawyer?" Sam asked.

"You are a bit young, maybe you don't know what one looks like yet." I was affronted by this man. So arrogant. I was just about to speak up against this idiot's constantly bad mouthing remarks when he turned to address me. I was taken aback by the direct stare and equally direct manner of speech.

"I am Mr Chulleroy. Mr Pict hired me to represent you. I trust you haven't said much."

"There wasn't much to say. I don't remember anything useful." I stammered.

"Magnificent. Any minute now, someone should be coming to let you out. You are being released into Mr Pict's care while the investigation continues.

"How?" I asked, hoping not to sound ungrateful.

"Yes how?" Cynicism tainted Sam's voice. It didn't suit him. "She hasn't even seen the judge yet."

Mr Chulloroy didn't even pay Sam the courtesy of looking around to address him. "I know the right people to speak to. Just about every upper socialite knows someone who was in, or been affected by these deplorable murderers and glorified thieves. How much of a hurry do you think they are to put the single mother who saved their skins behind bars?"

"It's not that clear cut." Sam protested lightly, causing Mr Chulluroy to finally turn to face him.

"You and I may know that." A police officer approached from the doorway as Mr Chulloroy continued to speak. "But politics never play by rules, so turns out we're best friends." The officer who had arrived unlocked my cell.

Walking out, Mr Chulloroy took my shoulder, easing me out of the cell, leading me past Sam and out the door. I looked back rather helplessly trying to read his face. It mattered to me that he might be angry, incensed, but instead he looked calm, settled.

"Remember Rachael," Mr Chulloroy advised. "They don't have any physical evidence to link you yet, not until they process what they've got. As far as I can see you have just been an unfortunate bystander. It could have been someone else, one of the hostage takers who turned on the others. All you did was defend yourself in the first instance. There is no tape, even though they thought they had you on it. Worst case scenario, we aren't sure how traumatized you were after your initial attack or abduction....whatever it was you went through. You can't be helped Culpus Mentis for reacting to a threat the way you did. Remember all that, keep your mouth shut and you will be fine." With that we exited into the open office and daylight struck me.

Sabian was there in the front office. He stood when he saw me. I spent an awkward moment staring up at him.

"Sabian. Thank you but I don't understand why you did this. I can't pay you back." I wanted to be clear on that fact. No expectations, and I didn't like the thought of owing him anything, or anyone for that matter. I had become so dependent on others it insulted my senses.

"I'm alive because of you. Natasha and all the others. I couldn't not do this..."

Sam arrived through the back doors closing his phone. He watched the two of us curiously. Mr Chulloroy left the front desk where he had been signing out in the visitors book and stood next to Sabian and I.

Sam had a look on his face. "What, what is it?" I asked.

"Best to leave communication to me." Mr Chulloroy informed, but I ignored him stepping forward.

"It's about Jonah. What is it?"

"He's going back home." He said but the words didn't match the relief I felt.

"Where can I pick him up. Or will he be brought to me?" As I asked, I knew I wasn't going to like the answer.

"No, he is going to his parents home."

"What." I was astounded.

"He isn't your kid Rachael. We found his parents. DNA confirms he isn't yours and the parents have all the papers.

"But..." I was lost for words.

"His name is John." He continued.

"He said he was mine." I rambled, trying to reconcile the feelings of attachment I had for him, knowing he was mine, with what I was being told.

"Apparently not." Sam shot a look at Sabian, who put an arm on my shoulder.

"But how did he end up with me? Do the parents know who I am?" Maybe they had the answers I needed.

"There was some kind of abduction. There's some more information, but I don't have it yet. I can meet you back at the office tomorrow if you want. I'll go through it with you then."

I lost my balance, my legs failing to hold me up. Sabian kept me upright.

"Thanks – we'll be there tomorrow, 9:00am?" Mr Chulloroy offered and Sam nodded.

As the two escorted me out I turned back to Sam for a moment. "Can I see them?"

Sam looked awkward. "They send their thanks, but don't want to meet you. They just want to move on – that was the message."

I let Sabian and Mr Chulloroy lead me outside and had a vague recollection of getting in a car. I stared out the window as we drove, and didn't even take notice of where we were going.

We pulled up at the motel I had been staying at. Sabian took the keys out of the ignition and looked at me. I looked blankly back at him. "Rachael. We've just come to pick up your things. You can come stay with us until we figure out where to set you up for after all this calms down." I nodded in response. I was worried that if I tried to speak I might throw up. I got out of the car and he did the same. After getting the spare key from reception, I walked ahead to take us to my room. On entering, Sabian drew the curtains so we could see. My head whirled and I had difficulty breathing. I felt so alone. I saw Jonah's painting he made me. It showed us walking hand in hand.

That was it. I couldn't breath.

"You alright?" Sabian's question didn't help.

"Just have to get air" I stammered, holding on to the TV table. I saw some coins on the counter and took them up. " I just need to get a drink. I'll be fine." I said escaping through the door. I tried to breath deeply, with a great deal of difficulty. More difficult still was holding back the tears. I reached the drink machine around the corner and trembling fed my coins in. I dropped one, but caught it and put the last one in with relief. As I pressed the button for a Coke, I noticed a homeless woman rested against the wall a few feet away.

"Got any change?" The woman asked of me.

"No, I have nothing – just used the last coin here." I relpied not looking. I picked up the can and braced my back against the wall on the other side of the machine to her.

"Bitch" I heard her mumble as she turned away. I then heard her make a strange gurgling sound as though she was having a fit. I would have checked to see how she was but I was busy holding myself together. Sinking in to blackness for a moment of peace.

I pulled myself back to reality when I reached my door again. Sabian had gathered everything – not that there was much – and was waiting.

"You ready?" he asked me. I couldn't imagine being less ready.

"Definitely. Get me out of here." I responded.

At Sabian's house, Natasha was there waiting for us. I was surprised to see the place nearly as clean as the night of the party, floors sparkling, walls repainted. I could smell fresh paint and all the windows were thrown open. Natasha looked less than accommodating, greeting me with little more than a stare. Sabian showed me to a guest room placing my bag on the bed.

"I realize it's strange, staying here, but it's still my home. We're figuring out what to do with it."

"You cleaned it up quickly. It almost looks like nothing happened." I faced him and looked him over. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. Night approached, and I somehow doubted he would sleep tonight either.

"I couldn't stay here if they didn't. Police took everything they needed, Natasha organized the cleanup. She's always been on top of things. Everything should be alright here for you. If you want to have a shower, get changed, dinner will be in about half an hour." Sabian turned to leave.

"Did she know you were bringing me here?" He paused as I brought up the elephant in the room.

"She understands..." was all he said.

Once he left, I picked something out to wear and got undressed for a shower. By the time I turned the taps on I could hear Natasha and Sabian yelling at each other. _Why bring her here...why not put her up in a hotel...she bloodied our house... I can't stay here, not after what happened... Only tonight, then find her somewhere in the morning. You find her somewhere to stay, I'll find us somewhere...._.

How blissful the water was. I stayed curled up in the bottom of the shower stall for some time after I washed myself cleaner than I ever had been before.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. We had started to eat our take away Chinese in silence. Natasha watched me like I was a venomous snake to be feared. After a few minutes, I was grateful she put the news on in the background to fill the empty space. Ridiculously the story about some poor homeless woman being maimed in what I considered my old neighborhood, was actually lightening the situation. I excused myself as early as I could and retreated to bed. I lay awake, as usual, but this time I stared out the window worrying about Jonah. I had a horrible feeling I couldn't shake. DNA may not lie, but I was supposed to be with him. I was supposed to protect him. I knew that much, and I would find out what the hell had happened tomorrow.

"I can find my own way you know." Was all I could find to say to Sabian as we sat in the office, waiting for Sam. Mr Chulloroy was already inside speaking with the police. Sam was also inside and peered out through the slatted blinds from time to time.

"Relax, I have someone finding an apartment for you. Natasha is having difficulty dealing. A few nights away, she might be able to think more clearly. To be honest, I'm having trouble living there myself. All I can think of is Amber, Rick and Kes."

"Where will you go?" I asked, trying to read him.

"We have a home about an hour from here. Good spot for fishing." He nodded to himself as though deciding this was a good idea. I wondered if Natasha knew. I supposed as long as they got away from the blood and gore, that was the main thing.

"Natasha will probably go back overseas." He sighed.

"Without you?"

"Things are a bit tense. They were before. I don't know what there is left to do." From the way he spoke he obviously regretted the way things were.

"Do you love her?"

"Always have, always will." Came his confident reply. It made me smile.

The door to the room ahead of us opened. "Come on in." Called Mr Chulloroy and we followed. When we were all seated around a table with a TV facing it from one of the walls he further explained the situation. "It seems there was an attempted abduction approximately 5 weeks ago, of the child who came into your care."

Immediately I tensed, did I take him?

"Don't worry" Came Sam's comforting voice and tone. "It wasn't you. You tried to help him, but then something else happened. There is a tape, taken as evidence at the time they disappeared.

"How come they never came forward when we were found? The parents I mean?"

"They claim they never kept in touch with the news, trusted the police, and we missed the connection."

"They claim?"

"Fact is the pictures we were given at the time didn't look much like them at all. It's a bit strange. What is really strange is what else is on the tape though."

"Are you prepared to see it." Asked Mr Chulloroy.

"Are you kidding me? Yes! Please." I could hardly contain myself. My palms were sweaty, I rubbed them together, agitated.

"The tape was taken in a parking lot of the local supermarket. The wife was out shopping. She let the child fall behind." Sam pressed play and the grainy tape played. The wife looked back at the boy, then at a van that pulled up.

As the van pulls to a stop, a man gets out, yanking Jonah from the street, tossing him inside carelessly. He slams the door. And then there I was. I pushed past the woman, his real mother, I unlock the door, pull Jonah out. The man got back out of the van and I kicked him in the chest sending him flying over the bonnet of the vehicle. To the far left of the image, three bystanders suddenly looked up, shaking, bodies contorted. Sabian sat bolt upright.

"Strange hey." Remarked Sam. Sabian, I realized, recognized something other than just odd behaviour.

"What is that? What's happening to them?" he asked.

"No idea. Even they don't know, don't recall anything after seeing the man kicked in the chest." Sam turned his attention back to the tape, so I followed his lead. The three people on the tape all moved in unison towards me as I turned around helping Jonah to his feet. All three tackled me, one separating to grab the boy. As they held me, they strained to keep me down as I kicked free, but even as I did, the man from the van reached over and placed something on my neck. I stilled, and they tossed Jonah and I back in the van. The van drove off and Sam stopped the tape.

"So who am I?" I almost yelled. Sabian put a hand on my arm to calm me.

"I don't know." Replied Sam staring into me.

I became desperate. I stood up urgently knocking the chair over. It wasn't good enough. I had too many questions, not enough answers. "Why did they do that?"

Sam remained unmoved, though continued watching me as though he was looking deep inside for something. "They seem to have no link to the situation. For some unknown reason they just acted like this. Three separate people, no memory of the event, nothing to offer. They were charged if that helps, but they have no history, no criminal behaviours. It remains a mystery to them and us.

"How is it possible?" I whispered sitting back down.

"You tell us. How come you don't remember anything?" Sam retorted.

"I just need some answers...I don't know why I cant remember. Were we drugged?"

"Everyone keeps saying you have had a traumatic event. I think we need to find out exactly what." Sam said never looking away from me.

"Detective Knott has proposed that you attend a Psychiatrist skilled in hypnosis. They can get you in this afternoon but I should warn you that any information that is revealed...."

"Fine – I'll do it." I didn't give him time to answer. I didn't care what the consequences were. The room remained tense and I stared at Sam as he stared back at me. Sabian's phone rang and broke the tension. I diverted my gaze to Sabian as he excused himself and left the room.

"We'll set up the visit then." Mr Chulloroy advised and stood up indicating the end of the meeting.

"Come back at 4:00 this afternoon. He'll be here." Sam hadn't bothered addressing Mr Chulloroy. He stood as well and followed us out.

As Sam held the door open for me to follow I stopped to ask him a burning question of mine. "Were you really going to go through my things? When you asked for my permission to go to my place."

Sam shrugged. "Probably. Kind of my job." He smiled at me.

"Spying on me?" I asked.

"Keeping an eye on you." He replied.

"I actually feel better knowing that." With that, I left the office and joined Sabian in the hallway as he got off his phone. He looked somber, and looked me over as though an uncomfortable thought about me had come over him.

#  Chapter 5: Sabian

"This is the place." I announced opening the door for Rachael.

"Someone else lives here?" Rachael was looking at the fully furnished premises with curiosity, exploring picture frames and knickknacks that decorated the fireplace mantle. I watched her move inquisitively about the lounge room leading from the doorway.

"They are overseas at the moment. They had a friend of their daughter house sitting, but apparently he had a really good time, so overstayed their welcome, lets say."

"Parties, parties, parties hey?" Rachael remarked playfully.

"Girl, girls, girls.... " I clarified.

"Bit strict aren't they. What did they expect asking a single guy to look after their place?" I was surprised at the comment. I don't know why, but I kind of anticipated a less accepting approach.

"Yeah – he wasn't single and it was more like several girls at once, all night, every night." I smiled at the way she closed her eyes and smiled in understanding. "I think the neighbours will breathe a sigh of relief seeing you here."

"What – you don't think I might surprise you and party all night?" Rachael gave a cheeky grin and let herself sink into the couch.

"I think you're a little past that." Immediately I regretted my words.

"Too old then." Rachael raised a scolding eyebrow, and turning to face me.

"No. No I didn't mean that." I immediately defended.

"Now whose sense of humour's waning?" She teased and resumed looking ahead from her position on the couch. She stretched her arms out, and leant her head back so she could stare at the ceiling. I took a seat opposite her and she straightened up her stance to look back at me.

"You are a bit of a mystery Rachael. And I don't mean because you can't remember where you came from. It's just you are so confident one minute then the next so..." I trailed off because honestly, I didn't know what it was.

"Lost." She finished for me.

"Maybe." I conceded reluctantly. "I don't know what the word is."

"Lost is the right word, I keep trying to make sense of everything. Then again maybe I just need to refocus, take everything as it comes and 'suck it up princess'."

"OK. Whatever works for you I guess." This was a different attitude. I wasn't sure if it was something I should support or not, so decided to play it cool. There was doubt in my voice, so she seemed to want to clarify something for me. She leaned forward and gave me a direct and piercing look, but it didn't worry me, didn't take me off guard, just showed me something else of her.

"Look," She began. "I can't make things happen for myself, but sure as hell can start working towards something. Maybe I get all the answers I can this afternoon, maybe I don't. Either way, I'm drawing my line in the sand. I'm taking back my life. I've had it with social workers, police, not knowing who I am or where I'm going. I don't know what sort of person I was before, but I don't like relying on other people for everything all the time. Even accepting this, this apartment – it gets under my skin."

"Well you probably aren't going to like this then either." I reached into my pocket and dropped the envelope I retrieved form my pocket on the table.

"What is it?" She asked eying the envelope and then me.

"Money. Enough to get you set up for clothes, food, stuff, maybe until you get a handle on what to do next." I gulped when I said it, almost as if I feared the offering would be rejected.

"I can't take it."

"Yes you can Rachael."

For the longest time she looked over me and I had the feeling I was being prepared for dinner. When she spoke I was thankful. "What is it I owe you for all of this. Really. Sabian... What is this?" She cocked her head to regard me.

"Just me being me. Being grateful I guess." I tried to sound confident, but I was feeling a little like a primary kid in high school.

"Grateful." She replied dubious.

"And I want to be your friend. Help you find the answers to some of your questions. Is that so surprising? So difficult to believe?" I met her stare and she softened, smiling slightly at me.

"I suppose not." Rachael relaxed back in to the couch. "Thank you." She extended.

I nodded before standing. I had to get going, get back to Natasha. "I'll come back around three – pick you up. But for now I guess I had better go talk with Natasha...try and convince her it's still worthwhile to stay."

"Don't come back." Rachael said matter of factly. I looked at her confused and she shook her head to correct herself, a hint of anxiety in her voice. "I didn't mean it that way, just tha I can take myself to the station. I need to get my bearings. This will help, and maybe it's a good idea to spend some time with her, not having to rush off somewhere."

"Are you sure?" I asked her as I dug my hands in my pockets for my keys.

"Yes. More than sure." She looked confident, and I was pleased. This would actually be good, see her moving forward. I gave her a curious look, I wanted to know who, what she was, where she came from.

"What is it?" She asked tentatively.

"You. You're quite the contradiction yourself."

"Thank goodness for that. No fun if everything's predictable is it? Speak to you later." She grinned at my amusement.

I threw open the door, but hesitated before I walked through. "Can I call you tonight? See how things went?"

"Why don't I call you - after." She offered. Before I closed the door she called after me. "Good luck - with Natasha."

I couldn't help but stick my head back in. "Luck is the least of what I need. I need a miracle – or at least something in the magic department."

Driving home I kept revisiting what had happened the last couple of days. Meeting Rachael, losing Amber, Kes, Rick and his wife. My head was swimming with thoughts when someone honked at me from behind. I had been sitting still at a green light and not even noticed. I needed some sleep desperately. Even last night, I had tossed and turned all night. The police had set me up with a Victims of Crime Counselling number. Not that I was going to use it of course. I felt an unusual mix of emotions. I was glad to be alive, but at the same time kept thinking what I could have done better, differently. I thought about my hand being spayed on the floor, the knife withdrawn to take my finger, Amber's face...my breathing became erratic and I was suddenly nauseous.

Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I threw the door open and stumbled two steps before throwing up. I wretched again and lost what little I had managed to eat in the last day. Taking a breath I returned to the safety of the car, but sat in the seat, feet still on the ground and dropped my head into my hands.

It felt ridiculous, and I hadn't said it to anyone, but with everything Natasha and I were working on, this was the worst possible time for something like this to happen. As if there were a good time. I tied to focus, settle on an image of Natasha's face. One floated in and out, but I refocussed. Rachael's face came to mind instead. When I met her at the party, so demure, chin down, eyes staring up at me, the way she carried herself. Then the way she looked when she kicked the gun towards me, the blackness in her eyes. The way she moved to meet their attacks. I felt there was something missing. I had to find out. I could feel that was the key to me burying this. And Amber. God, I had to organise the funeral. I sucked in a breath and got back behind the wheel, closed the door and concentrated on driving. First things first – heart to heart with Natasha, then organise Amber's funeral, then figure out where to stay.

I kept repeating my to do list in my head over and over until I got myself home. I prepared myself for this talk as best as I could. Natasha was already distant with me, we were already trading tension with each other. She had been angry I brought Rachael back to our place, frightened by what she saw, what we all experienced. This wasn't going to be easy. When I walked in I was surprised by what I saw.

When I walked in I was first surprised by the luggage at the front door. Two medium suitcases. I looked at them as though they were the enemy. She was leaving. But then, she rushed me. Natasha rushed up to kiss me. It was the deep passionate type of kiss I remembered from years ago. She smelled of Chloe and Channel. I more than welcomed her embrace, the feel of her body under the silk blouse. I breathed her in but gave her a curious look, trying to untangle her from me so I could get a solid read on her.

"I thought you would be angry." I half asked, half commented.

"No, not angry, I know what we went through was...awful." she looked away from me. "I don't know what to think or how to feel about everything, but I want this to work – us." with that she looked back at me hopefully, clutching my collar. "I missed you when I was over there. When I thought they were going to hurt you, kill us, all I could think of was how much...." she started to choke up, close her eyes and glance away. I stopped her and moved her chin back so she was facing me. When I got her to look at me again, her eyes were filled with tears."I missed you so much, and all day, all I could think about was you. Sab. Can we just get away from here – go to the Hilton – I booked a room for a week, so we have time to go through the funeral, selling the house and everything else. I can't imagine how you must feel, losing Amber."

"I am so happy you are with me. I missed you too. You have this way of making me feel everything is under control. Everything is going to be alright _." Couldn't stop thinking about Rachael though today could I?_

She reached for me and drew my face back to hers. She pulled me towards the bedroom, and I didn't protest. For the next while we left everything we had done, been through or worried about aside, just enjoyed one another, the moment together and the taste of each others skin. I reveled in it.

***

She stroked my collarbone, neck and jaw as I stroked her hair. We sat in silence together, and I felt contentment.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Was all I could muster to say. I was sated, relaxed, just pleased to have her there.

"Me too. It's a shame to sell this place. I just can't stay here." Natasha commented.

"Don't worry, I feel the same, but maybe it's a way for us to start fresh." She rose her head to give me a curious glance as I spoke.

"I was just thinking that. Leave all of this behind us. We could go anywhere."

"Hmm."

"Anything you need, for Amber's funeral. If you want me to do it, organize things."

"No. I need to do it, I'm her only family."

"We are her only family."

"Yes, I know."

"You keep looking at your phone. Are you expecting a call?"

"I just am curious to see how things went at the therapist."

"What therapist?"

"For Rachael. She was seeing some hypnotist."

"Don't go. Stay."

"I thought we were both going. To get away."

"We are."

"Then don't see her again. I want to leave this behind, not carry it with us. We have been given a second chance. We could have died in there."

"But we didn't because of her. I can't just cut her loose."

"You hardly cut her loose. You set her up with a place to live, cash - I saw our bank account and your rather generous withdrawal. I get it. You can be grateful, and leave her to sort herself out. You've done enough."

"But there is something else. I can't put my finger on it. Soemthing about the way she moved, the way she took those men on. I need to know what happened, where she came from..."

"Please let this go."

"I will... I will..." I hated the 'but' in my voice. If I was aware, I knew she would be.

"Promise me you wont see her again. There's something not right about her."

"You're just saying that because what you saw frightened you."

"No I'm not, but I don't want you to obsess about her, there's so much more we need to do. So much you need to get your head around. Planning the next few days, taking care of yourself, seeing someone – a counsellor, getting back to work."

"I keep thinking about her." I said. "I can't just _stop_ thinking about her."

There was a stunned silence when I realised how that sounded. I turned around to see Natasha's gaunt face. "I didn't mean it like that...."

My phone rang. It was Rachael.

"I have to take this."

"Is it her?"

"Natasha I won't see her, just speak to her, find out and that's it."

The phone rang again.

"Natasha." I hesitated, but not for long. She walked off. I took the call.

"Hey. How are you? I can't speak for long....."

"It didn't work out."

"What do you mean."

"The therapist, hypnotist, whatever. It didn't work out. He couldn't get me to relax enough, then he tried to give me something, and I freaked out. Anyway, it wasn't successful, Sam dropped me back at the house. I have a whole bunch of relaxation exercises and not much else to show for it."

"I'm sorry."

"No more than I am, but at least I gave it a shot. I can go back next week."

"Will you be alright."

"Yeah. I'll be just fine. Things go well with Natasha?"

"Much better than I thought. I'll call tomorrow. See how you are and let you know where we are staying. Ok?"

"Great. Goodnight."

"I wondered out intending to promise Natasha the world. One more catch up with Rachael to finalise things and we could go wherever she wanted, but when I heard her car in the driveway as I wondered in to the living room in my pyjama pants."

Natasha was gone, along with her bag at the front door. A note was left on the bench. _Don't call me_.

I could have chased her car down the driveway. I could have called her name into the night but I didn't. I didn't even disobey the note. Instead I went back to bed and slept better than I had in what felt like forever. I loved Natasha but if she couldn't accept that I needed to see this through, finalise what had happened to us, I had to give her her space until I could give her that.

When I first woke up I thought it must have been later than it was. The autumn sun streamed in the cracks around the curtain and I felt as though I had slept for a week. I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed around searching for the remote control. I might be awake, but I wasn't yet ready to make the great trek out of the covers. Not even for juice. I smacked the bedcovers trying to force the obstinate remote to reveal itself to me. I finally found it and turned on the TV embedded in the wall. Natasha had hated the thing. I turned it up louder. I would likely be making up to her for a long time with things like abandoning early morning TV. I was going to enjoy it while I could.

It was only five in the morning. I suddenly felt tired again. The news was on. Death, politics, earthquake, more death. I groaned and collapsed back in the bed fumbling blindly through the channels waiting until some thing not too serious tweaked my interest.

Some early twenties adventurist exploring early written languages across the globe came on. The enthusiasm in his voice was very nearly the most offensive thing I had experienced, but the topic was neutral so I tossed the remote on the floor. Who knew someone less than a hundred years old could get so excited over cuneiform.

I rested my arm over my eyes for awhile before admitting defeat and venturing out of bed for the day. I showered, pretended to be bothered to dress, and switched off the TV just as the enthusiastic anti-me donned a beanie and cargo pants instead of a cap and cargo shorts.

I wandered in to the kitchen, poured my routine breakfast juice, whisked some eggs, and pressed the plunger on the toast. Turning on the TV so I could watch while cooked. The bright eyed, keen nature of the adventuristic literature fanatic met me again, pretending to climb a mountain somewhere in middle Europe.

You again. I commented judgingly on the young man. I glared at him as if it would actually mean something. Serves him right for trying to educate people at six in the morning. Jeez. I was losing my mind. As I scrambled my eggs, I saw it, one of the rune symbols I had seen in the police photos. Rachael had been hiding behind two symbols that didn't seem to have particular meaning to the event. " _It appears to be nothing more than latent or cultural superstition"_ I had heard the older of the detectives mention on a call.

I turned the sound up and forgot my eggs.

An ancient language with mystical and spiritual roots, used in pre Christian society, and still implemented by pagan followers today. They have even become a staple for new age practitioners and Wiccans. This form of communicating in the basic principals of adapted pictographs is far from dead and buried. In fact, some cults and organisations are still deeply entrenched in the origins teachings of the contextual cultural practice, including the famed Asatru, purists in their area of worship and daily rituals or life principals of conduct. Asatru....

I was called away by the smell of my burning eggs.

There was a brief image on the TV of the man changing garbs again into a toga, and off to research something else. In between trying to save what was left of my eggs, and attend to the television, the phone rang.

#  Chapter 6: Sam

When I made the call I knew I shouldn't have. Not really. I may have tried to sell Sabian on staying away from Rachael for his own good, seeing as he was both victim and witness. We would have had a hard enough time even as it was asking him to take the stand against Rachael if we needed him. If. That word.

I understood, I really did, that the law was the law. I had to let it take it's course, but at the same time I was wishing, willing her off the hook.

I saw violence all the time. But violence like this didn't usually accompany someone like Rachael.

It didn't add up, and one of the first things we were taught was Ocams Razor. The most probable explanation was the likeliest. I had been taught to seek it out but I couldn't find it here. Rachael was obviously a victim here. I understood after spending time with her yesterday, why James had deleted the footage. Why he sabotaged the case. I wondered if he had sat on the end of his bed one day making calls like I had done today. Calling Sabian, calling Community Services for background reports on the kid. If I wasn't careful, I would be the one in trouble.

I tried to shake my head out of the thick fog of my thoughts and rose off the end of my bed. I stretched out before grabbing extra socks from the dresser drawer. I already had the sweat pants and shirt on, I may as well go for a run. After leaving Rachael at her place I had been feeling edgy, unfocussed. I had spent the night alternating between staring at the ceiling and tossing all night. A run might do me a disservice after having worked out, even if it was only a home based weight set, but I still couldn't seem to relax enough to think about sleep. I really needed the sleep tonight. Tomorrow was James' official last day, and I was tagging another team while I waited for someone to transfer in and take his place as my partner.

I left my two bedroom unit, strapping the mp3 player to my upper arm. At least the apartment was thankfully looking more organised than my head felt at the moment. Thanks to my sister organizing a cleaner to come around. I had of course cleaned up before the cleaner arrived-some kind of latent guilt for not doing it myself. I was either not there enough to make any kind of mess, or too tired to bother cleaning up after myself. Neither particularly appealed to me.

I started straight in to a run, rather than warm up, but the people on the street made it hard to keep my pace up until I hit the park. I hoped the physical activity was going to help me clear my mind, but all it seemed to do was intensify my train of thought.

James at least had a wife who cared about him enough to forgive his variable work hours and habits. I knew it wasn't anything strange, but I had found that in the past for myself, having a relationship given my choice in career wasn't the easiest of things to achieve.

I was going to miss James. He always had some kind of revelation or understanding to share with me when I was feeling less than grounded. Or at least a comfortable silence that indicated he understood, what I was experiencing wasn't unusual.

I ran harder. I knew I had passed the cardio level I needed but I hadn't reached my goal yet.

This was an unusual case. It finished off the work James and I had been doing on the murder-thefts we had been chasing, coordinated by Penn. The pressure had been on to solve the case, let the upper level socialites congregate in peace, and now the pressure from outside was off, I was experiencing something very different.

As I ran her face bounced in my mind. Rachael's smile when she saw me. Her face do earnest, so serious when the psych was explaining what the processes were for the deep relaxation treatment. For the hypnotism. The look of terror on her face when the psych tried to inject her with a sedative. She hadn't attacked, hadn't flipped out. If I hadn't stopped things, she would have likely passed out before anything else.

A cramp caught my thigh, and I nearly hit the gravel. Two joggers behind me barely missed colliding into me.

I massaged the cramp and managed to get myself to the bench just ahead of me. I rested there, breathing sharply until my leg felt better. The pain returned when I tried to stand, but to a lesser amount. I knew running wasn't an option, so I did my best to walk back to my flat.

When Rachael had walked back into the office, I had been so sure we were near those answers I wanted. She was compliant, even asked me to come in with her. Her initial resistance to the techniques used by the Psychiatrist had been put down to nerves. After relaxation exercises and another 30 minutes of failed attempts, the psychiatrist offered a drug. After hesitating, Rachael had succumbed to the argument that this was the fastest way to get a response. After the tourniquet was applied, it had started. Rachael started breathing heavily, started shaking. She trembled so much the psych had had difficulty administering the needle. As she tried to calm herself, un-tense her muscles and stop the tears I decided it wasn't worth it. Stopped everything. I probably shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it.

By the time I made it home I was finally feeling like I was unwinding.

I headed straight for a hot shower to help my leg stretch out.

In the car on the way home she had said something that was plaguing me.

"I have this terrible feeling about Jonah. I know I can't see him, but can you check on him?" She had asked me.

I had stuck with my guns and said no, but since then had had this sinking feeling... It had kept me awake most of the night. She hadn't even put up a protest when I said I couldn't interfere. Just nodded and calmed.

I had called Sabian on the assumption that separating him from the situation might make it simpler for me.

After the shower, I shaved. I liked to keep clean shaven most times. I pulled back my long dark hair wondering if I should cut it. As if my hair being long somehow made me less focused.

I spent the day reading, did the usual run around chores I would do on my days off and did some net research before I decided it might be time to get dinner. So I called for takeout and found my pyjamas just in time for my order of Thai food to arrive. I sat watching TV, something mindless to help me detach while I ate. Once the first set of commercials interrupted the program I knew distracting myself this way wasn't the solution. I abandoned the dish I was attempting to eat with great difficulty and sat back on the couch. I made an exasperated sound and covered my eyes.

The worst part had been in the car on the way back to her place. First she had just stared out the window. I hadn't even noticed she was crying.

When I asked if she would be alright I had hated the ridiculous sound of the words. When I asked if there was anyone I could call for her I could have thrown myself out of the car. The automatic training had kicked in, but the fact I asked a client with no memory of who she was, no family friends or support if I could call someone for her....well that wasn't even a rookie mistake. I didn't know what that was. Then she looked at me, red eyed, with wet cheeks and laughed. Actually laughed. Not cruelly at my stupidity, which I would have forgiven her for in a heartbeat.

"You're really kind. You know that. Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"You sure? I don't want to let you go if you're going to be upset like this. I have some counselling numbers..." I had started rummaging through pockets and car hiding spaces when she stayed my hand with hers.

"I will be fine. It's just a lot and I feel so stupid."

"Why on earth would you feel that?" I couldn't imagine this woman, who had come so far feeling stupid of all things. She was a survivor, a force of nature all to her own. At least she had stopped crying.

"I just gave Sabian this huge speech about how I was going to do what felt right, that it didn't matter who I was, I was going to move on anyway and here I am.." I think that was the point that hooked me. She smiled and opened the door of the stationary car to go to her apartment. Sabian's apartment. Or his friends anyway.

"Wait." I had called. For what, I wasn't sure.

"I'll be fine. Really. Maybe I just need to sleep. It's been a big day." With that I had watched her skirt around the car and almost reach the door before she looked sideways at me still sitting in the car. When she saw me still parked in the no stopping zone staring after her she had looked back at me, giving a curious smile and I had waved like a high school kid. I had scarcely been able to avoid thinking about her all day.

The now familiar heartburn clenched my chest. I had impressed myself by not calling her all day. Now it was night time, nearly 24 hours later, I wasn't feeling so sturdy in my resolve. After all a whole day was a long time. It wasn't a sign of weakness. Not after so long. I wondered what she did all day. I had said I wanted to keep an eye on her. Maybe checking in would give me more information to go on.

I was making excuses. I just wanted to see her. Still she was a killer. In defense or not it was suspicious. James was right. I had seen some adrenaline fueled moments over the years, either out of fear or drug induced psychosis. Sometimes even without the drug part. There were a lot of crazed idiots out there. So many miserable and lonely ones too. Ready to hurt themselves, kill themselves over the small to the immense. Kill themselves.

It occurred to me all at once that I had left her upset. She was more lost than ever, with no one other than a random grateful guy she met at a party to help her. Listen to her. And I had warned him off. Shit. I better call to make sure see was alright. If she answered I would check she sounded ok. Then let this whole thing go. Give the file the lost at the bottom of the pike treatment and let a rookie pick up on it later.

Halfway through dialing I hung up. Even speaking to her wasn't really necessary. If she picked up, I would know she was alive, and that was all I was checking. Jeez. I was running on a whole wrong track at the moment. Better get the call over and done with.

I dialed without letting hesitation get the better of me again. The sound of the phone being disconnected met my ears.

Something was wrong.

I took my coat and stuffed my gun and badge into a pocket, and rushed out the door. The place was only 10 minutes away by car. I screeched to a halt and rushed past the doorman, flashing my badge. I knocked on the door and a relaxed looking Rachael opened it, a half glass of red wine in her hand.

"Sam?" She looked casually comfortable in an oversized t-shirt and black shorts.

"Rachael. You're alright." I stammered.

"Of course. Are _you_ ok?" She wore a look of concern for me. And why wouldn't she? I had turned up unannounced, looking harassed with a gun on her doorstep. I pocketed the gun and tried to look calm and undisturbed.

"Yeah. I tried to call, but your phone was disconnected."

"Huh." She uttered and abandoned the door to check the phone on the counter. She replaced the handset then checked for a dial tone.

"I left the phone off hook. Must have not put it down properly when I spoke with Sabian. That was this morning. Hope no one else was trying to call." She turned back to face me as I hovered in the doorway. "You sure you're OK?" her concern was now half marked with amusement.

"Yeah. Why?" I said, still trying to regain my cool, calm and collected self.

"Nice pajamas." Rachael kept grinning and I balked at myself.

When she finally came back to the door and asked me in I was relieved and slunk into the apartment.

She poured me a glass of wine in the kitchen, and offered it to me. I took it, but said something by way of a disclaimer to the effect of "I'm not really supposed to drink on duty."

Rachael pulled me up on that of course. "You don't look like you're on duty unless the dress code has changed." While I had taken a sip she had looked at me inquiringly before speaking again.

"So why did you call?"

"What?" I asked.

"You called?" She repeated for me. "Or tried."

"Oh. I just wanted to check in on you. No news sorry."

"That's ok." She resigned and made herself comfortable on the couch.

"You look a lot more together than yesterday." I observed.

Rachael nodded. "I spent the day in bed moping, then eventually decided to get up, have a shower, and do something worthwhile. So that's when I opened this bottle." She held the glass up in jest toast. I couldn't help but smile. I sat on the other end of the couch.

"At least you got some sleep in." I said taking a seat at the other end of the couch she was on. I took a large gulp of wine and put the glass on the table. I usually hated red wine, but tonight it didn't seem so bad.

"Oh I didn't sleep. I stayed in bed, but I didn't sleep." She clarified for me. I knew how that felt. The sleep part anyway.

"So what's with you then. Running to my rescue. I thought you were supposed to be trying to put me away?" She had asked so bluntly it almost caught me off foot.

"I'm not supposed to put victims away."

"Is that what I am? A victim?"

"You don't think so?"

"Have you ever killed someone?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I wonder what it feels like to remember doing such a thing." I hate not remembering, but I'm trying to let that go.

"I've killed two people. I can let it go, because it was them or me, and I knew I was right."

"Maybe that's it then. I can let it go because I know I was in the right."

"Of all the things you can let go of, killing someone is probably a good place to start."

"Yeah but it's strange. I think because I can't remember so much else, that I want to hold on to this. What I have done, good or bad, is the only thing people can talk about, show me footage of. My life is this great big mystery and it feels like this is the only thing that bridges the gaping hole that's left here."

"I understand." I extended.

Immediately she gave e a cynical look. "You do, do you?"

"Yeah. I do." My dad had Alzheimer's. I know it's not the same thing, but watching his memory fade, seeing how hard he tried to hold on to any detail, even up until the end.... It really opened my eyes, not in a good way, but in a way it helps me understand. Better remember something than nothing. Better hold on to any link you can, no matter how unpleasant if it might help you get back something else. Some other string of thought."

"What happened at the end?"

"He killed himself actually. He forgot my sister's name one visit. He said that was it. Didn't want to get any worse, so took a long walk off the short rooftop." I took another gulp of wine and looked back at her. No weakness from me.

"I'm so sorry." She said.

"Me too. But he knew what he was doing. He did what he did and I accept that." I was glad I could be honest with her. There had been lots of judgmental people who were horrified at what he had done. But then, they hadn't had to live his life, had they? My mother had passed 10 years ago in a car accident and Laura and I were all grown up, so it wasn't like he was leaving anyone in the lurch. I missed him, but at the same time, I understood. He had always been honest with us, and being honest with others was important to me. I never had the difficulty accepting feedback my supervisors gave out like some of the other Cadets, trainees or officers. I felt it made me strong, but I knew it wasn't always easy to take.

"When?" Rachael asked after a long silence.

"Last year." Another long pause followed my response.

She took a swig from her glass to drain it and a deep breath in before she spoke which alerted me to her hesitation. "I wanted to say, I wish I hadn't....cried on you...yesterday. I was a bit ..."

"Don't worry about it. You had a lot pinned on the Psychiatrist. But you have a week to wait to practice those exercises you were given." I knew she wouldn't do them. The look on her face at the office when she was reminded to practice them. Bit like telling someone to build a bridge with string.

"A whole week. Lucky me." She replied sarcastically.

"Better that than go back and have a repeat. I thought you were going to burst a blood vessel."

"It was – intense. I just don't like being held down. I don't like needles either. That makes me worry." She resumed her stoic stare into her glass.

"About why, what happened to give you that kind of reaction." She nodded. "I don't think this is one of those situations where you can wish something to the surface. If you push too hard, I think it might be worse."

"Did you read my file?" She sat back and stared at me in a way I knew she was scanning my integrity.

"I did." I answered honestly.

"What do you think happened?" She put forward, her stare softening with expectation.

"I think whoever took you, scared the shit out of you. I think you had to fight to get yourself out and it was too much to take in. Your brain re-wired and when those guys took everyone hostage you went back into coping mode. It's confusing, upsetting." She nodded as if my answer simply re-confirmed what she knew to be true. In all honesty, I hadn't offered anything new to her.

"But why am I not a missing person. I get Jonah...John... I get that he was so upset he may not have known who I was, but why hasn't anyone missed _me_?" There was such a abandonment in her voice. Maybe she was afraid she had no life to remember either. She confirmed that for me when she spoke next. "I can grasp the idea of spaces in my memory, of me going into some kind of lethal attack mode...But no one missing me. That's horrible. No one knows I'm missing for over a month now."

I tried to recall something useful, something similar from work I could give as a positive example. "I remember reading about a type of disorder where people forget everything about who they were and just up and start a new life. Not because of anything negative, just because.... Maybe the shrink can shed some more light on what's happened after a few meetings." I hoped so. "Maybe you were a loner." I added.

"You mean alone." She reverberated listlessly.

"Maybe you were a special ops agent on a secret mission." I teased to lighten the situation. She rewarded me by smiling lazily back at me and giving me an eye roll.

She chuckled to herself before joining in the joke. "Or a spy.... Yes espionage, definitely. Like Mata Hari or something.... See how can I remember Mata Hari, and not other things." She asked out loud.

"Give it time." I reassured. "Try less hard. There will be something that triggers you. Something other than fear or violence."

"I hope so. But what do I do about the rest of my life in the meantime.... A place to live, a job.... A last name...ID. Do I just wait?" She sighed and refilled her glass and mine.

"I guess you can do anything you want to do. We should all be that lucky." I looked her over wondering where to help her start.

"I have an appointment with the new Social Worker in the morning. That's as good a place as any to start with." I took up my glass as she leaned into the couch and stared at the television.

"This is one of the best movies ever made." I announced to change the subject.

"Really? The birds don't even look real in some scenes." Rachael regarded the screen with renewed interest. "I liked the last one. Rearview Mirror."

"Hitchcock. Great story teller." I relaxed back into the couch more and put my feet up on the coffee table. I watched her face take in the screen quietly, thoughtfully. I shouldn't be here.

***

The noise of a text message, and the intrusion of daylight woke me. I was horrified. I had fallen asleep, which was great that I slept, but freakin' awful that I was here – all night. And looking at my watch I could see I was late.

I had a huge day ahead and I couldn't afford to be late. I had to send off James, settle in to my temporary role as a third wheel, focus on work.

I left Rachael still curled up next to where I had been sitting and let myself out the door. I reached my car only to groan out loud. I got a fucking ticket. Not the best start to the morning. I hoped it wasn't a sign for the rest of the day.

I checked the text I received. _Found the body._ It was from Clink at the morgue. Pants first. Body second. I got in the car and headed home.

#  Chapter 7: Rachael

In the early light, I stretched, helped myself to some juice and eyed over the appointment card for the new Social Worker that I had been given. There was something I wasn't looking forward to.

I leaned across the kitchen bench, thinking for a moment when I heard a tap dripping. How had I not heard it before? The sound seemed to blare through the apartment.

Placing the card back on the counter and abandoning my juice, I searched for the sound. It wasn't the main bathroom - not the sink or bath itself. I checked the basin in the guest toilet. Not there either.

The dripping continued, and I picked my way down the short corridor to the bedroom. There was an ensuite there, though I had never used it. I peered inside, the room immaculate and dressed in emeralds and turquoise colours.

There was the offending tap. Dripping away. I stepped in, my bare feet touching the marble floor. It was ice cold. I stepped quickly on to the mat. I regarded myself in the mirror for a moment, the only light streaming from a side window and seeping through from the bedroom behind me. I tried to look deep into myself, to find anything I hadn't seen before. After a moment I gave up on the pointless self exploration attempt, and reaching over, I tightened the tap.

When I let go, I saw something on the floor. A chain, leading under the mat I was standing on. I knelt down to retrieve it. As I pulled the length of chain out a small but heavy pendant dangled. I rested it in my palm. I recognized the symbol. Tacit knowledge, I couldn't quite grasp. Three triangles interlinked.

The door suddenly closed behind me.

I bolted to my feet only to feel something rush behind my neck. I flung around trying to see what it was, but there was nothing there.

My breathing escalated, I could feel my chest tightening. What the hell was this.

As my eyes searched in the semi light, I walked back, reaching for the door when I realized that something else had happened. My reflection hadn't moved back with me. It still stood there, facing out from the mirror, holding up the necklace. What was worse was it was watching me.

The moment was surreal, me watching my reflection observing me back. I moved back towards the mirror and took my place at the basin. I raised my hand, dangling the necklace from my hand to mirror the image I saw in front of me. As I watched, my reflected face changed, smiled, confidently watching me back. There was no smile on my own face though.

I felt my features move from shock to fear as the smile my reflection wore expanded, the face substance peeled away, leaving stretched, hole-ridden white skin, black eyes and whisper thin hair in it's place.

I screamed and ran, out of the room, dropping the necklace and throwing the door back so hard it slammed into the wall behind it. I bolted to the lounge room, grabbing my jacket and flew out of the door.

Lucky for me I hadn't changed out of my clothes from the night before. I went straight to my appointment, but by the time I met my new Social Worker I barely paid any attention to her. I watched instead the other workers in opposite cubicles, ones standing by the corridor whispering and staring at me. And why wouldn't they. I was nobody. A nobody with no memory, who had had somebody else's child in her custody for the last month, just killed a bunch of people and whose last Social Worker got murdered in a bloody hostage situation. And let's not forget the hallucinations. Fun new development. There was no wondering why they were staring, curiously peering at me as they walked past. I tried to look ahead and ignore it, but the fact was, my head was whirring so fast I could only hear a vague blah blah blah from the woman sitting opposite me. I gave her direct eye contact. She seemed nice enough. She didn't seem afraid. That was good.

There was a pause, an expectant pause and it became clear I was supposed to say something...

"Sounds good." I answered to a question I hadn't really heard. Good guess. I was rewarded by a satisfied look on the face opposite me, and reading her body language, the interview time was over. I stood and walked out holding my head high, my thousand yard stare helping to keep my anger from boiling over.

When I arrived outside, I was relieved to see Sabian's friendly face there waiting for me. He had been sitting on the ledge outside the building, but stood when he saw me. I almost bounded to his side, eager to see a familiar person I could call friend. He always looked so calm and in control.

"What are you doing here?" I asked of him, hoping I didn't sound ungrateful or needy.

"I went by the apartment, but you weren't there. So, I figured where else you could be....?" He meant it as a form of humor, but I couldn't help but become defensive.

"That's refreshing. You figured I would be at Social Services. Fabulous." I indicated sarcastically.

Sabian looked at me as though confused, but, as usual, kept his calm. "Cynicism doesn't suit you." Was all he had to say.

"No? Watch this space...it's how I'm keeping it together right now." I felt the words come out harsh, but honest. I wanted to be strong, invincible and independent, but the reality was I had this awful feeling something very wrong was happening to me, and I was having trouble drawing the line between being strong and being scornful. I thought I had offended him for a moment, but Sabian just cracked a smile and bantered back.

"Well if it helps, I went past three supermarkets, two cafes and the library first..." His patient look calmed me instantly.

"Yeah, that helps." I relented. Then after a secondary thought asked "Is it true?"

Sabian simply smiled and I knew he hadn't been honest, and I didn't care. "Got time for a coffee?"

"Yes please. Get me away from here." I begged and we walked together to a café out of site of the building I was in.

I could tell Sabian had something he was itching to tell me by the way he wrung his hands over the table after we ordered. I waited patiently as he dodged my inquisitive stare.

"So you've been keeping busy." He half asked, half commented. I had never seen him anxious before. Maybe he was just really good at covering most of the time.

"I wouldn't say that." After a moments hesitation I offered up more information. "I watched a Hitchcock movie last night." I didn't mention Sam staying the night, didn't mention I was clearly going out of my mind as per this morning's episode.

"The Birds." He responded.

"You watched it too?" I said sounding a little too enthusiastic.

"Nah, it's just always the one that seems to be played..." Sabian looked the other way again.

I worried that if I didn't bring it up, he wouldn't either. "Is there something you wanted to say Sabian? A reason you asked me here? Is everything alright with you, Natasha?" Our coffees arrived and extended the moment before he answered.

"Natasha and I... she decided to have some time away from me." He replied guiltily in to his coffee.

"What happened?" I asked legitimately interested.

He looked back up at me and raised his head to seem more like the usual Sabian I knew. "I happened. I've always been a disaster waiting to happen. I get stuck on things.....obsessed she calls it."

I felt a sudden chill. "Stuck on what? What happened that made her leave."

"You. Where you came from. What you are." I hated his reply. It made me feel more nauseous than I already did.

"What?" I choked out, taking a sip of my mocha to smooth my throat.

Sabian put his cup down and looked straight through me. "I just need to find out what's going on. I need to know..."

"You aren't getting stalker on me are you?" I stumbled trying to lighten the situation. He maintained the intensity of his gaze.

"No." His response was flat. I noticed he seemed tired, his eyes were puffy and his skin a touch sallow. He still looked more than fantastic, one of those guys who gets better looking with age. His charm was magnetic, but even though what he was saying unnerved me, I knew in my heart of hearts that I trusted him implicitly. If he was obsessed, all it did was make me feel safer. For the moment though, I wasn't going to let him know that.

"Geez. Convince me." Was all I had to say.

He broke his gaze with me and I felt I could breathe again. He laughed to himself. "I've been looking into some stuff, I just don't know how to make sense of it yet. I know I only just started reading in to things, but a few things are clicking in to place... maybe I'm going mad. Maybe a post trauma thing. Maybe...." He looked back at me as though waiting for me to save him.

"Maybe madness is catchy? At least you wont be alone right?" He smiled at my feeble attempt to joke then leant across the table towards me.

"You drew these symbols at my house. Rune symbols. Do you remember?"

I shook my head. He pulled out a pen and doodled the two symbols he recalled. I was just glad there were no interlocked triangles. He looked at me expectantly, but I just re-affirmed by shaking my head again. "They are called Tyr and Dagaz, these two. There are some other names, depending on where you get the info from. One reflects a God of War, the other can mean an awakening, a transformation, or used to hide something. There are many Runes, each with meanings... they can be used as a language, or for invoking things."

"So are you saying they are used in magic or as a way of communicating."

"Both" He sounded like he was asking, not telling.

"So what are you're saying Sabian – that I was trying to use magic?"

"I know what it sounds like." Sabian started, using his hands to illustrate his words. I kept still on the other side of the table. "But there could be many reasons for using them. They are used by lots of people for different reasons, but there is the group, the Asatru that use them. There were a few things that I thought you had in common."

"In common with a cult." I reiterated to help the reality of what he was saying sink in.

Sabian straightened in his seat. "They aren't a cult. They are a religious order. Very bent on ancestral origins, pagan backgrounds, but just as easy, you could have been researching them, read something on them before you were abducted...I was thinking your mind may have activated that part of your knowledge unconsciously. Rachael, what are you thinking?"

I tried to keep my game face on. "What did you mean by what I am." He looked at me curiously. "You said before, you wanted to find out who I am, what I am.... Do you really think I could be part of this organization?" I probably should have fought the idea harder, but after this morning I was willing to run on a wing and a prayer.

"I don't know but we can look in to it. It's not just the Runes that get me thinking about it. They have this code of chivalry, even sub sections that are devoted to protecting others, and there is a lot of information linked with pagan beliefs on myths, spiritual possession."

"Why do you bring that up? Possession!"

"I can't shake the feeling I got from those people on the tape .I saw one of the men that took us....I saw him do the same thing, stare up at the ceiling, quiver like that. That isn't normal, that isn't some kind of fit...Not so many people. There is something...else happening here....Or I'm going mad."

"Like I said, you'll have company." I replied. "Is there anything on three triangles? Or mirror reflections or anything?"

"There's a lot on a number of different things. Triangles definitely, but there is a an outstanding amount around the number three, mirrors – sure, but I only just started looking through stuff. It's not really my area. Did something else happen?"

I bit my lip trying to decide what to say. "No, nothing. Just trying to make sense of it all." I lied easily enough.

"I brought you a book that has some stuff in it I thought might jog your memory. It's in my car. Maybe you could go through it, let me know? Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Looks like I'm reading."

"What do you think....about what I'm saying?" He looked at me so expectantly.

"I think there are a lot of possible explanations. I'm not going to count anything out, but I don't want to jump into something that's a stretch..." I waited to see if I had disappointed him. It seemed I hadn't.

"I agree, 100%. I'm just thinking out loud." He finished his coffee and sat back, more relaxed. I sipped on mine, not caring for it really. Maybe I didn't like coffee after all. It tasted bitter and unsettled my already churning stomach.

Sabian spoke again, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't hanging on his every word at this stage. Rune stones and possession seemed to be the closes I had got to an explanation that made sense. It didn't feel quite right but then perhaps I needed to let myself get absorbed in ridiculous sounding things in order to find myself again.

"I already have a meeting tonight with someone who might be able to help, but I really want to screen him first. Check if he's the real deal. I can call you tomorrow and let you know how things went if you want."

"Soothsayer I suppose." I meant it as a joke, but Sabian actually smiled like I had caught him in a trick.

"Actually, kind of. His name is Armada, he works out of a store about three streets away, but I hear he is very good at contacting the spirit world. And educated on all things mysterious. He agreed to fit me in as a favour. Amber used to see him once a year for a forecast. Swore by him." Sabian again gave me this look like he was expecting me to drop everything and escape from the crazy man by running away. I pleased myself by giving nothing away.

"Then let me know. I'm not passing on anything at this stage."

"I'll drive you home then." He offered and in spite of my hesitation to go back to that place after what happened this morning, it wasn't as if I had much choice. At least I had something to read, to work on tonight.

****

I sat, back at the apartment, in a spot that had my back to the wall. I eyed off the dark passageway to the main bedroom and the ensuite where I had that experience this morning. It had made me anxious, to say the least. I flicked through the book trying to latch on to anything that jolted a memory. There was a lot on symbology, links to Wiccan current practice, some information on the Asatru Sabian had mentioned, but nothing that seemed to spring out at me.

I flicked through a few more pages to see what lay ahead, and I saw a symbol that I did seem to recognize. A Triskele. A triple spiral from pre-Celtic times, representing three aspects of existence, land, sky or sea, or mental, manifest and other-worldly. There were lots of interpretations. It looked nothing like the triple triangle I had seen this morning, but it still drew my curiosity.

As I centered my thoughts on the particular design in front of me I heard the tap start to drip.

At first I held my breath and didn't even dare to look over. When I finally summoned up enough courage, I slowly turned to see where the offending sound was coming from. The kitchen. I felt relief that it wasn't the same room as this morning, but I was still hesitant. I cautiously left my safe space on the couch to venture into the kitchen. As I reached out tentatively to tighten the tap I anticipated something terrible. But there was nothing. I sighed in relief.

When I made my way back to the couch, I couldn't quite relax. I flicked through the book, but found I was staring into the black doorway of the main bedroom, peering at it out of the side of my eye. I shifted slightly to detract my view, then decided the TV might do the trick. I had barely switched it on when there came a creak in the floorboards behind me. I jumped up, but again, there was nothing there.

"Stupid" I said to myself, "Just floorboards, just a tap, just my imagination." I huffed and decided to go out anyway. Fresh air and something to eat might settle my overactive mind.

The fresh night air was exactly what I needed. I wandered around until I saw a night market near the river nearby. After exploring everything there was on offer, I bought noodles from one of the stands and walked further down the river. I loved the city lights reflecting on the dark river. I perched on a bench in a darker space towards the bridge and wrestled with the cheap chopsticks that came with the noodles. I actually felt like I had done this before, or something very close to it.

I had given up on the rest of my noodles, and was busy lost in thoughts when I heard Sam's voice behind me.

"Are you seriously sitting alone at night in the dark near a bridge? Are you wired for getting into trouble?" When he asked, my first instinct was to snap back,but I kept myself in check, and was glad, because the next thing he did was sit beside me.

"Well I'm not alone now, so it's all in the past really......."

"Hmm. This how you snare all your men then? Hang out by the river."

"You'd think they would be hanging off me hey."

"You are different Rachael, a huge contradiction, no fear, yet almost a shrinking Violet."

"Better an enigma than an open book." I decided to put the pressure back on him. "Are you _supposed_ to be here, with me, I mean? You were freaking out this morning." I noticed in the corner of my vision a man crossing the bridge had stopped to stare at Sam and I.

"Work and downtime...need to be separate." Continued Sam. He had his back turned to the man on the bridge, so hadn't even noticed we were being watched. The man looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't quite place him.

"Downtime, I'm downtime. Happy to be me." I batted back.

"I think you know what I mean." Sam insisted before he stretched. "It's getting late. You headed home?"

"I didn't know you looked after curfews too Mr police man." Sam frowned at my comment and didn't budge.

"You want company walking home or not?"

"Definitely." I looked at the man on the bridge suspiciously. "Hey Sam, that guy standing on the bridge watching us - I recognise him from somewhere."

He looked away almost as soon as his eyes made contact with the figure "Shit. He's from work. The admin there."

"So this is bad?" I asked.

"Only if he makes a bigger deal of things than he needs to." Admitted Sam. "I should have been paying more attention."

I tossed my noodles in the nearby bin and walked with Sam back to the apartment. He walked close enough that I could smell him, feel his presence over me. We talked about nothing, and everything.... Anything that came up, and the half hour walk back felt like it took no time at all. Stands to reason, I would find myself falling for someone who wasn't technically allowed to spend time with me. Eventually we were back at my doorway.

There was a too awkward pause before Sam left. I opened the door to the apartment I was staying in as he leaned casually against the wall. I thought about inviting him in but I doubted he would accept. I turned to face him and I there was a moment where we caught each others gaze. He straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets, diverting his eyes. My breath became shallow. Tonight had been so great, just to have someone to talk to. He was really an amazing guy. I felt so comfortable with him, except now....now was awkward. Tense.

Finally he spoke. "So, I'm going to head now...."

I nodded and moved in to the entranceway before stopping. I paused to look back and he did the same, but as we did, he just smiled, as did I. Then we both turned away, I entering the room, he walking down the hall.

I rested on the other side of the doorway before stepping away. My heart was hammering, I felt dizzy, but in a good way. This had been the first good night I could remember. Literally, ever.

I heard a knock on the door. Good night or not, I was still cautious. I peered through the peephole. He was back.

I threw open the door quickly, looking over him quizzically.

"I know I can't really be doing this." He said, and I smirked. I didn't say anything though, I wanted to see what he was going to say next. He gulped, and looked at me guiltily. "I guess, I just wanted to say maybe ....after this is all settled...maybe we could do this again. But formally...not formally. That's not what I mean."

"That sounds good." I jumped in saving him. "When it wouldn't be mixed up with work, right?"

"Right." He repeated.

"Ok then." I clarified. I put my hand on the door, ready to close it, not that I wanted to.

"Yeah." He responded before another awkward pause. I smiled back and nodded my head.

"Yeah," he repeated again and walked away once more, looking back briefly over his shoulder. I watched him until he was halfway down the hallway, then closed the door behind me. I paused to take a deep breath, and shed the shirt I was wearing over my dress. My skin felt suddenly flushed. I went to the kitchen, got myself a glass of water and sipped it gratefully. My heart was still skipping and my breathing slightly erratic as I walked back to the door to leave my shoes there. The high heels clunked against the wooden floorboards. Maybe I should have tried to kiss him. I now had this leftover feeling like I was missing the taste of his skin on my lips. I paused as I walked, to lean against the couch to remove one of my shoes.

Just as I did, the doorbell rang. It was him, he had come back again. I hobbled the last step to the door.

"I'm coming." I laughed swinging the door open. Maybe I'd get that kiss I needed after all, I thought.

I had barely drawn in a breath when the man on the other side of the door took me by the throat. Propelling me backwards, in to the apartment, the man who had me by the throat gave way to a second man who closed the door behind him.

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart? Think you wouldn't ever see us again?" He shook me roughly. "Did you think killing Uther was going to set you free." The man slammed me against the wall. "Where is the boy?"

I tried to answer but barely made a choking sound. He released me barely enough to choke out a few words.

"Who? You have the wrong person." I managed to sputter. I knew they wanted Jonah. But what could they want him for.

Another violent shove rocked me. "You know who-Jonah..."

Maybe they think I took him, I thought to myself. Maybe they were bounty hunters or something hired by the parents, who forgot to call them off. "His parents have him. He's safe."

"His parents!?" There was a stunned pause. "You let him go back?." I wasn't sure if he actually wanted an answer from me, but he looked at his friend inquiringly.

"New to me. I thought she still had him." was all the man could reply.

"Can we trust them to follow through?" was the response from the man that had me pinned by the throat. I scratched at his hands. Follow through on what I worried. That pit in my stomach I had felt all along ground in my gut. This was why I had still worried so about him. Home wasn't safe. These people didn't want to help him. These weren't bounty hunters. Something in my basic being screamed out to me.

"They seemed pretty committed." Continued the friend of the man whose grasp had lessened slightly.

"What do you want with him? Do you know who I am?" I asked, even if they were going to kill me, I might get some answers. The man holding me let me go.

"You really don't know, you don't remember do you? Uther really managed to lock you up in there. I didn't think it was possible." He moved closer to me and I took an automatic step back. "Then this is going to be sweeter than I thought." He breathed into my ear, taking my arm and forcing me face first into the wall behind me.

"Something of you has to be left." He continued. "We couldn't find you until you took out those guys the other night. We tried to take their bodies before you killed them all, but we were too late. Then the poor homeless woman. I told Martin that was a mistake, but then she had seen you arrive with Sabian, which let us track him, and then find you, so it all worked out...and now we can finish things up. No more removing your memory, just plain killing you off, sending you back where you came from."

In my frozen state I saw the second man put a wooden box on the floor a few feet away, then the one holding me pull something out that looked like an ice pick. Pressing me to the wall with a knee, he swiped away the hair from the back of my neck and drew back the ice pick shaped tool. He was going to stab me in the neck. On automatic response, I twisted out and hit the man square in the jaw. Wincing from the strike, he retaliated by punching me in the face. The blow sent my head into the wall and I heard the drywall crack.

It hurt, but only really seemed to make me more angry.

I launched myself at him, grabbing him by the shirt with one hand and pants with the other. With that I threw him upwards and he bounced off the ceiling. Almost immediately there was a knocking on the ceiling from the floor above, a neighbor trying to draw attention to the noise. I was astounded as to how I had managed to toss him so high. But the chance to figure out what was happening was fleeting. The second man grabbed me from behind , pinning my arms to my side, as the one I threw into the ceiling struggled to stand.

"There you are. I knew it was just an act." The man at my back muttered. Without a second thought, I felt an enormous surge run through me. I kicked out the foot that still wore my high heeled shoe and caught the man in front, my heel cutting through his lower jaw. Blood spurted, and I twisted my foot so I left the shoe behind in his head.

Planting both my feet back to the ground, I reached back and grasped the jacket of the man behind me, flipping him over me and on to his back. I crouched as I felt the power build and felt blackness creep over me...

There was an urgent knock on the door. I brushed my hair over the side of my face that held the bruises and a cut across my swollen jaw. Steadying my breath, I tried to smile pleasantly and opened the door. An old lady carrying her fluffy white excuse for a dog stood in her dressing gown.

"I don't know what sort of place you think this is, but we don't put up with antics all through the night..." her shrill voice grated against my nerves. "Like I told the last man who was here.."

"I am truly sorry. No more noise, I promise" I uttered softly as I closed the door on her nattering.

"I am serious, believe me, I will call the owners!" There came a defeated huff from behind the door.

I sank to the floor behind the door, finally weeping into my hands. I felt like screaming, but I knew I couldn't risk anyone else knocking on my door. Not while the bodies were still here.

I did the only thing I thought I could, I took the phone off the counter beside me, pulled it to the floor and breathed through my tears. I dialed his number and sobbed again when he answered.

"Help me. Sabian please help me. Don't tell anyone, just come over."

#  Chapter 8: Sabian

"I am telling you Sab." My friend Gavin advised from across the table. "Listen to yourself." He sat forward replacing his scotch on the table by his empty plate. "You were having problems with Natasha, then you had a traumatic experience which you are having trouble processing. It's easier to think of mystical reasons for what is going on rather than call it for what it is."

"You don't understand Gavin, the things she's done....I know it sounds crazy..." As I searched for words he interjected.

"That she is a guardian of some religious order, set to keep a child from danger?" His cynical tone grated against me on a fundamental level. "That other people are being possessed by bad spirits bent on destroying her? Yes it sounds a little crazy." He sighed and gave me the look I imagined he practiced daily with his clients. Confronting, yet understanding, comforting and confident, yet unyielding and commanding. I had to have a friend who was a Psychologist. Maybe calling him was me testing myself. "Fear can manifest itself in strange ways Sabian, make people stronger than believable.... There are a lot of things happening for you. She lost her memory – or so she claims, you haven't slept – I can tell. I don't want you slipping into some shared fantasy. Worse, have you considered your distorted thinking might be influencing a scared and already vulnerable woman. By the way you explain her situation, she doesn't have anyone else to rely on. Quite frankly, right now, I can see why Nat decided to jump ship and give you space." He sighed to break up his unrelenting rant. "Sab, take my advice, I have a very good friend, a psychiatrist at Turner hospital." He pulled out a pen and scribbled a name and number on a napkin. "Call him, take a few days to sort your head out before you see this girl again....." A sudden thought startled him. "You aren't sleeping with her are you?"

I nearly dropped my drink. "No...its not like that at all. I just need to find out who she is, what happened, what happens next." I scrubbed my face and rolled my scratchy eyes around in their sockets before trying to focus on him against the backdrop of the soft lighting in the restaurant. I was tired. He was right about that.

"That's your brain trying to make sense of everything you've been through. Sabian. I know you, and I know what I'm talking about. Please listen to me." I nodded and took the napkin. "The hospital is more like a hotel. It's a good move, and I'll come see you Friday. Once you get some sleep, we can talk more about this..." He eased back further in his chair and looked as though he was peering through me. I struggled to find something to say, which let him start up again. "Do you want me to call Natasha, tell her you're going to go to Turner's for a few days."

"Sure." I assured. That seemed to please him.

"Great. This is the best thing you can do for yourself. Trust me." He motioned behind me to a man who had just stumbled in the door with an umbrella. I stood to dismiss myself, and Gavin did the same.

"Thanks Tony." I said as I embraced him. I patted him on the back and left him to catch up with his business associate. Nothing like after dinner negotiation. That man was a constant workaholic.

As soon as I got outside, I threw the napkin with the psychiatrist's number in the bin. That was when she called.

***

I didn't even need to knock on the door. Rachael must have heard me coming. She cracked the door open and I stood stunned. If I hadn't just recently seen the bodies of the men strewn through my own home, I might have vomited right there. There were only two of them, but the copious amounts of blood made it looked like it could have been several more. Rachael had already lain the two corpses out next to each other, tucking their arms by their sides. I tentatively walked in as she eyed me with a worried expression.

"What happened Rachael?" I asked open mouthed.

"I don't know exactly. They came for me, grabbed me by the throat. They were going to kill me Sab." Her voice trembled slightly.

I broke my horror struck gaze at the room to look at her. "Kill you? Who are they?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. They seemed to know me, they were looking for Jonah." She moved closer to me and earnestly looked into my eyes. "They brought that box and the pick, or blade or whatever it is. They were holding me down to stab me in the neck with it." She pointed at a wooden box and silver blade on the coffee table. "I just, I just fought back."

I now stared at the box. "What's in the box?"

She moved her view to the box and stepped closer to me still. "I don't know. I didn't want to look. At least not alone."

A thought occurred to me and brought my attention back to her. "So you remember doing this...this....to them?" I didn't know what to call it. It wasn't murder if it wasn't self defense, killing them made her sound like she was a serial killer or something.

"I remember most, but not all." Her chin trembled. "I just reacted. I didn't even think. I felt this surge, and Sabian....." She sucked in a breath. "I did things I couldn't have."

"What things?" I asked her gingerly.

"Impossible things..." She responded but trailed off. Her confidence came back and she didn't look so scared. "I threw one of them in the air. He hit the ceiling." I looked up automatically and saw some missing paint chips and a smear of blood above where we stood.

When I looked down at her I was still in a daze. "Was there any identification on the bodies?" I moved to where the bodies lay and knelt beside them. I tried not to breath in the metallic stench. "You shouldn't have moved them." The police wouldn't be happy about that.

"I wanted to check them....for marks, or ID, but there was nothing. Then I cleaned them.....so my fingerprints couldn't be found." I looked sharply back at her.

"But the police!" I protested as I stood up. "We have to call them."

"I can't. That's why I called you. I trust you. You are the only one I can trust. The police already think there's something wrong with me. They will never believe me. Sabian.." Rachael looked at me expectantly.

"Well this won't help. What did you think I could do?" I was astounded.

"I don't know. I didn't think. I just needed you here."

I realised I was caught in the middle of something so much more than just a girl with a missing past. Something supernatural, something from myth. I needed to know what it was. What the secret was. I gulped back my natural instinct to protest, to call the police anyway, but I didn't think justice was going to see through the obvious to find Rachael innocent, to see her as I did....special. I tried to avoid giving any answers until I could give myself a moment to think. The blade on the table glinted and caught my attention.

"It's a stiletto" I said absently.

"No it was a regular heel." I looked back at Rachael with confusion on my face. "I just kicked him in the face with it hard enough to do some damage." She explained.

"What?" I queried before I realised what she was talking about. "No, the blade. It's called a Stiletto." I pointed to the item on the table. "It's known as an assassin's weapon from medieval times. A client of mine had a collection of medieval and Renaissance weapons he used to like to show off. I remember he had one like this." She closed her eyes as though embarrassed by her comments. I couldn't help it but I had to clarify what she was saying. "You kicked one of them in the face with your shoe? Really?" She shrugged though still looked concerned. We both looked at the bodies.

"Did anyone hear anything?" I asked.

"The lady from upstairs came down, but I gave her a story and she went away. Sabian...what am I going to do with their bodies?"

"We can dump them off the pier. My car is downstairs. There's builders scaffolding at the back of the building near the window. There is also a chute they use for dumping industrial rubbish. Send them down the chute, put them in the car and drive them to the shore. Rachael nodded at my instructions. "We better get started but first..." I looked back at the box. "Let's see what's inside the box."

We approached the box with trepidation and both sat on different couches around the corner of the coffee table that held the box. With a sigh, Rachael lifted it to her lap. It was around 30 CM long, around 20 CM wide and was fairly innocuous. It was made of dark wood, with gun metal coloured plain clasps and a latch of the same style at the front. Rachael opened the clasp and I held my breath. It could be a trophy case from people they killed. It could have information about her identity, an address, a manuscript, it could have..... anything inside it.

As the lid opened, something inside caught the light and it reflected back on to Rachael. Finally she threw back the lid entirely and we saw there was nothing in it. Just mirrors. The whole box was lined with mirrors.

"Huh" Rachael huffed in surprise as she looked blankly at the empty box.

I took the box from her, turning it upside down, feeling along the edges. Nothing. I put the box down and placed the Stilleto inside before closing the lid. "Well that didn't answer any questions." I noted, disappointed.

"Sabian." Rachael started, and I noted her body was quite stiff.

"Rachael." I answered her.

"I have this terrible feeling about Jonah. Do you think....could you check on him?" She gave me a pleading look.

"I don't even know where he is. And we have dead bodies to think about."

"I know what town. I saw an article in the paper...it's just 35 KMs from here.

I have this terrible feeling this isn't over, please check on him. They don't know you – you can ring the doorbell and see if everything is alright."

"He knows me Rachael. I met him at the party." I reminded her.

"He won't say anything." She assured.

"How do you know?"

"I know. Just, please go look for me."

"After we take care of this....situation. I'll go. Maybe tomorrow. That will give us time to find an address, otherwise I'm just going to be driving around."

"No, help me with the bodies, then go. There is no time to wait around. I can clean up in here. Besides. I dreamed he was climbing an elm tree last night. Maybe he told me where he lived, maybe it's something else I forgot,...."

"You think he'll be living near an elm tree? Or a place called Elmtree...." I paused considering my choices carefully before answering. "Alright."

"Thank you." Rachael took my hand and squeezed it.

I nodded quietly before standing. "Let's get started." She rose to her feet, grabbed sheets from the cupboard and we wrapped up the bodies tightly. Carrying an end each, we stalked down the dark corridor and took the elevator to the top floor. There we heaved the first body out the window, and it slid ungracefully to the bottom, landing in the heaped dumpster.

We repeated the process for the second body, then took ourselves outside where I backed the car up. We loaded the bodies in, then some of the broken concrete and bricks, before we drove 20 minutes to the coast. Checking no one was around, we stashed the heavy material in the sheets with the bodies, and rolled them over the dock. We did this in silence, recognising what we were doing for what it was.

On the way back, Rachael fidgeted as I drove. "We can never talk about this. Ever." I said to her.

"There's no one to tell." She replied, turning to look at me. "I am so sorry I got you into this. I really am."

I nodded, relieved we were on the same page. "Just let's try not to kill anyone else OK. We need to find out what the hell is going on so we can stop this from happening." I was trying to breathe normally, and I was struggling. My fingers gripped the wheel as I drove so tightly, I didn't know if I was going to leave permanent marks behind. I couldn't believe what I had just done. "Rachael. I just need you to know... I think you are....something else. You saved me and the others, and I know I told you I feel grateful, but it's not just that. I am in this for the long haul. I am going to help you find out who you are. OK? I'm going to do that with you. All the way." I might have been reassuring myself more than her at this stage.

"I know Sabian." She leaned over as I drove and kissed my cheek before resting back in position. I glanced over at her, wondering what was going through her mind. "One of the men said something. Something I don't understand. He said 'Uther really managed to lock you up in there'."

"That's interesting. Another piece of the puzzle."

"Did you find out about the guy you mentioned? The one who might be able to help?"

"Yes. He said he could see us tonight, around six. I said we would be there." I snuck another glance her way trying to read her. The conversation was staunch, and felt unnatural, but she seemed peaceable enough.

"Good" she mumbled, almost as if to herself. "After you get back, we can both sleep, then see if this guy can help find more answers for us."

"Armada. His name is Armada."

"Like the ships?" She asked me and I chuckled.

"Like the moth apparently. So I'm told." She nodded thoughtfully, then resumed looking out the window until we arrived back at the base of the apartment.

I dropped Rachael back at the apartment to clean the blood and mess up, and took off towards the town Jonah lived in. I drove, looking for an Elm Street, a noticeable tree, but couldn't find anything. Without an exact address it was difficult. It was now just after five in the morning, and I didn't have a clue.

My fuel gauge indicated the car was running low, so I decided if nothing else, now was the time to take a break and fill up. I was re-fueling at the service station when I saw a photograph on the wall behind the middle aged man serving me. Jonah was in it with a group of other children at what looked like a Sunday school.

The man caught me studying the image. "Something wrong?" He asked me pleasantly enough.

"Isn't that Jonah something or another?"

"Yeah. The boy who went missing. Sure is. He goes to Sunday School with my Emma." The man sighed and stuffed my money into the till before continuing. "Its an amazing thing that he came back, after all that time. Still won't talk though. The boy changed after he suffered a fall."

"A fall? What kind of fall?"

"He fell off a cliff. Family was out walking on this adventure trail out by the cliffs, he and his brother slipped.... The brother didn't make it, but Jonah did. Barely. He only made it out of the coma a month before he was abducted like that.....Mother's never been the same, barely leaves the house, except once a week to take the boy to the market. It's a wonder Bobby kept going the way he has." The man pointed out another picture tagged to the wall, one of himself and another man about the same age, but taller. "That's Jonah's dad – Bobbie. Used to drive trucks for a living, now he supervises down at the shed. Since his boy passed, so he could be closer to home you know...."

"That's tough for the family, but at least they got their boy back." I offered as conversation.

The man half laughed "Sorry, small towns – we all know each others business and I like to talk – what brings you here friend?"

"Just passing through. Needed to fill up." The man accepted my answer and came around the counter to fix a few items on the rack by the door.

I was walking out the door when a ute pulled up at the lights. The man looked up as though surprised. "We'll speak of the devil." He muttered. I looked back at him inquisitively. "There he is – Bobby. Mans been through hell and back. Good thing he's got his faith, or it's easy for a man to waver..."

I'll be damned I thought to myself. Luck be my lady....

"Well, I had better get going." I said quickly, and was in revving my engine by the time the light changed.

I followed at a distant pace until he pulled over. I passed him as he got out of the utility, and saw a sign below the postbox. Elm House. A single light was on by the window of the single story, bush ravaged brick home where Jonah lived. I parked discretely up the road. I saw the time on the dash read 5:45 AM. The sun wasn't even up yet. Another night I had lost the chance to sleep.

I hopped out of the car, intending to ring the doorbell, say I was sent to the wrong house to pick up a delivery or something, check and walk away. My clothes didn't really seem to work that story, and as I reached for the bell, I hesitated. I decided to try my luck looking through the window first. Maybe I wouldn't even have to say anything, just see them through the window and walk away. I was in luck, there they were.

The mother was carrying Jonah, sleeping from the bedroom, the father following in her wake. He had something tucked under his arm. A book? I furrowed my brow and walked behind the front of the building, following their path inside. It led me to the bathroom. As I was peering in the bathroom window, I managed to see a bath was drawn. Both parents faces were grim, and Jonah was just waking. The mother was lowering the boy into the bath when Jonah became aware of what was happening, and started thrashing out. The father grabbed Jonah's hands as the water and the child met.

They were drowning him.

I had to do something, fast, right now. I didn't even have time to call the police.

#  Chapter 9: Sam

I had finally been sleeping but something woke me. A turning in the pit of my stomach. After the day I had today, after the meeting with Clink, my mind was racing with impossible thoughts. I decided not to fight the feeling and try and go back to sleep, but instead get up, work out a little, then try again. I was wired with tension.

I ditched my shirt, spent a few moments stretching, and reached up to grab the chin up bar above my bedroom door. I lost count after 20 reps and started pouring over what I knew. None of it really made any sense.

There was the missing memory for Rachael, and no hits on her past, and the abduction attempt, the escape in the desert which no one had actually believed happened like she said. Running out of a cave, chased by some old guy. Where did she find the car that she drove until she rammed into a lonely police station in a random town? But then they had found the body, looking how she described, wearing what she described, out in the wilderness near the entrance to an old mine shaft. Shame was it had collapsed and no one was going to be getting in any time now or later by the looks of things.

My job was always about remaining objective, finding the best fit for the puzzle and driving the case home. It had been a long time since I felt like I was floundering.

Seeing her last night hadn't made anything easier. I had wanted to question her like a suspect, the thing was that when I was with her, I didn't at all see her like that. She was.... Besides, I really didn't know what questions I would ask her at the moment.

I ditched the bar and decided to do sit ups. Shit, I kept seeing her face. I wasn't like this, never like this. I felt angry at myself, my distraction. I stopped and stretched out my body and legs, allowing me to do tricep dips. There was something else I was missing and I couldn't shake the feeling something else was happening here. Rachael had asked me to check on the boy. Maybe it wasn't anything to do with her. The original abduction was about him, not Rachael. I should check up on him, ask the parents a few questions.

I lay on the floor gathering my breath and thoughts. My muscles burned. Good. I could sleep again, and go out to the place the boy and his family lived in first thing in the morning. Who was I kidding, I wasn't going to get back to sleep. Wasn't much point anyway. I was so wired, I decided to take a shower, make a coffee and grab breakfast en route. By the time I made it there, I could scope out the place, maybe make contact with the local station again and ask a few questions of the parents. I could even make it back to work in time. Then I could bury this thing, close off the case by the time I met my new partner next week and not have it hanging over me. Rachael could start again with the help of Social Services, and I was absolutely not, under any circumstances going to see her again until my head was clear of this.

I left the police station with no new information. The night shift officers had been more than helpful, but as far as they knew, the family was fairly normal, actively involved in social activities, church, he had worked until a recent incident when one of their twin boys had died in an accident. Jonah, the surviving twin had been in critical condition for a while, but then come back, seemingly fine but was then the subject of the abduction. No leads on who, what, or why, but then that wasn't entirely unheard of either. There had been a thorough check on anyone who had shown any kind of interest, and nothing had come about. Nothing left, but to check the home out and talk to the family.

When I pulled up to the house, I saw the most curious thing....Someone lurking in the bushes at the side of the house, spying in to what looked like the bathroom. I got my badge and gun out. Probably some tabloid mongering idiot, maybe the town perv. I made a call for assistance anyway – no harm in being cautious.

I quietly closed the door to the car behind me and skipped across the road. Before I could make it, the man stood up suddenly, looked about, and took off behind the building. I hadn't thought he had seen me but he must have.

There was a sound of shattering glass, and yells so I bolted. Following the line of the house, I found a back door with a smashed glass panel. Gun drawn, I kicked the frame open and bounded inside. I checked my blind spots. Nothing. I heard another yell and a series of scrambling sounds. A woman was shouting "Get him, get him, Bobbie. I can't do this again."

I neared the bathroom where the commotion was coming from. As I rounded the corner I saw two men struggling with each other on the bathroom floor, and a woman by the bathtub, her hands and arms submerged in the water.

"On the floor!" I shouted from the safety of the hall.

Both men stopped and the woman looked at me shocked. I eased forward towards the doorway as the man on the ground put his hands up and the man on top froze, a pair of sharp scissors in his hand, the type used for home haircuts. I recognised the man holding the scissors as Robert Brown, Jonah's father. He was poised as though ready to strike the man on the floor.

When I inched far enough forward I saw what the woman, assumedly Jonah's mother was holding down. Jonah lay in the bathtub. He was still. I pointed the gun at her, "Hands away from him." I commanded. "Get on the ground, face down." I yelled harder, and she complied, shifting her gaze to the boy as she did as I told her to.

It was then that I suddenly realised who the man was that broke in. It was Sabian Pict.

"Sabian?" I gasped, startled.

"I can explain." Sabian started.

"Explain after you pull the boy from the tub."

Sabian squeezed out from where he was, and shuffled to the tub, pulling the child from the water with effort. He carried Jonah past me and into the hall, calling for an ambulance from his mobile and placing it on speaker as he started CPR.

The woman, started crying, her face still pressed against the floor.

"My boy, my boy." She cried.

"How is it looking?" I called to Sabian.

"He isn't breathing." Sabian replied before moving to blow air into Jonah.

"Not again...I cant let him go again." The woman called and she moved to get up.

"Stay still." I commanded keeping the gun trained on the boy's father who finally addressed me. He was cold, calm and looked at me with deadened eyes.

"You don't understand what we have to do. Why we have to do it."

"I don't want to know. Get on the floor, face down. This is the last warning or I will shoot you." I braced my footing on the floor to re-exert my strength base.

"The boy is wrong. He's been wrong since he came out of his coma." He continued.

"Get down!" I warned again but Robert stood instead.

He kept talking. "The doctors said to expect changes, but not this. He's not my son."

I gave it one last chance. "Put the scissors down and get on the floor now or I will shoot you."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at me. His voice wavered. "He's the devil. The boy is the devil incarnate, and I have to stop him. I have to." The man paused and for a moment I thought he was actually going to do as I asked. "Like Abraham, leading the lamb to the slaughter....." He mumbled, then was quiet, standing with his weapon at his side, staring me down. I could hear the police car pull up outside the house.

"He's breathing." Announced Sabian from the hallway. The boy sputtered and as Sabian helped him turn on to his side, Robert lunged at me, roaring, wielding the scissors. I had learned the hard way before never to hesitate, so I didn't.

I shot him and Robert fell against me, slumping to the ground by the time an officer appeared, gun pointed at me. I flashed my badge and explained who I was amongst the wailing of the mother, and the sirens of the approaching ambulance.

****

The woman was taken to the hospital suffering hysterics and shock, but not before Jonah was escorted first. I watched them take Mr Brown to the second ambulance on site, headed straight for the morgue. I didn't regret shooting him to be honest, I did regret the paperwork. My statement seemed to take forever, and I watched Sabian closely as he gave his to another of the attending officers. Boy did I want to ask him a few questions of my own when I had a chance. Of course I had a few other things to take care of before I could do that, I realised. I cringed and looked away when I saw the familiar car pull up. My boss.

He carried himself like he was made of gold, hoisting himself from the seat of his car and winching up his belt before striding towards me, sunglasses glinting in the full morning light. I had just wrapped up, as he arrived, so took a deep breath and waited to face the music.

"So Samuel." He started, full of authority, lighting a cigarette and leaning against my car. "Nice day for a drive."

"Nice day to solve a case." I bantered back.

"Yeah?" He lifted his shades to stare me in the eye. "How do you figure."

"The boy's parents organised for someone to take their child..."

"Why!?" He interrupted.

"They're delusional. Clearly." I struggled to keep from snapping at him, and it was transparent. I swallowed my pride this time and tried to remember the proper chain of command, respect. "From their sense of what was wrong with the child, they had him 'taken' – by who we have to figure out. It could have even been the husband though, staging an abduction from a public place to divert suspicion. I suspect the body they found in the desert to be, on second analysis, their co-conspirator. Rachael..." He raised his eyebrows at my using her name so I re-enforced. " _Rachael_ comes along, tried to stop it, gets taken as well. While in his control, she and the boy are traumatised, and acting on instinct escape...."

"Good to see you have it all figured out..." He faked, getting more stroppy by the moment. "I have a bit of a mystery of my own actually."

"Really?" I added, not even trying to cover the cynicism this time.

"Yeah." He rebutted standing tall and puffing out his chest. "Maybe you could help me with that one too. Seeing as you have this one all tied up, I thought you might have some spare time." I looked down at my shoes, trying to swallow the condescension. I licked my lips and drew my chin up to show there was no power over me here. He took a draw on his cigarette before continuing. "Gary told me he saw you out having dinner with Jane Doe."

I started off too defensive. I knew that good for nothing suck up would have blown anything he saw out of proportion. "It wasn't like that, I was out walking and she happened to be there...."

Before I could finish, he finished for me, forcibly keeping his voice as controlled as possible so as not to be overheard. I suppose I should appreciate that. "So you happened to sit, have a talk, walk her home? I'm hoping the night ended there."

"Look, nothing happened. I'm telling you...." As the words left me, I knew I had opened myself up.

"Oh you're telling me....Telling _me_!" He started ranting. People turned to look. "Let me tell _you_ something Sam." He lowered his voice. "You are taking time off, and you are volunteering to do that, so _I_ don't have to explain why my best up and coming has lost his shit over a suspect. Calls to Community Services, visits to witnesses, coming here unsolicited, I've been looking into it and you even got a parking ticket outside her place. You have been asking all kinds of questions, and not the type I would expect you to ask if you were simply trying to solve the robberies and murders." He looked away from me and took a deep breath before exhaling out, and turning back to face me. "Take a week to get some perspective while we wait for the transfer to come in. You and your new partner can start fresh. Meanwhile you are off the case, Crane and Smith can finish off what needs to be done. And I don't want you going anywhere near our Jane Doe."

"She hasn't done anything wrong." I protested. Clearly that was an affront, but at least I spoke my mind.

"She killed a bunch of people Sam. Not just killed them – butchered. And if your head wasn't....." He trailed off and shook his head at me. "....You would see clear as day that something isn't right. Your average 20 something, five foot something women don't do things like that! They just don't." He put his glasses back on and relaxed against my car door again.

I noticed Sabian was watching us.

My boss kept going. "She's cute, I get it, she needs rescuing, and you my friend are a rescuer, and it wont do you any favours in this line of work."

"A rescuer?" I had to keep myself from lying. All the accusations I had from previous girlfriends that I wasn't attentive enough.

"It's a real thing. Read up on it." He stood tall and fixed his bet again. "Meantime I am going to go fix this mess up while you go home and fix your mess up. Go home Sam. We'll see you next week."

As he strode away into the throng of local police Sabian came up to me.

"Sam..." he started but I stopped him.

"Not here. Meet me at the café across from the library." I said as I opened the door to my car and climbed in behind the wheel.

"Pino's." He clarified, and I nodded, revving up the engine. I wasn't going to let this drop completely. I wanted to find out what the hell was going on.

Somehow Sabian beat me there. He already had a Cappuccino and pastry.

I sat down opposite Sabian, trying to work him out, and we stared each other down across the table before I broke the silence.

"So what did you tell them about why you were at the house?"

"Only what I saw. I told them I had a bad feeling, went to visit to check the child was alright, heard him screaming, and ran over to see what was going on. When I saw they were trying to hurt him, I broke in and you came in after me." He told me this so matter-of-factly, I wondered how many times he had spun half truths and lies before. He was an exec consultant though, so pitching things was part of his job.

"Why were you really there?" I challenged, keenly interested in what the answer was going to be.

He hesitated and his eye twitched before he answered me. "Because she asked me to check on him."

"You do everything she asks then?" There was a pang of irritation that she had asked me, and asked him, only she would only really know he had followed through for her. Had she asked me first? Had she had to ask him because I had said no. Not that I hadn't done the right thing. It just ate at me.

"Right now, I'd have to say yes. She was right, he was in danger." Sabian took a long drink of coffee before relaxing back in his chair. He looked almost too comfortable for this kind of conversation. He knew something I didn't, or maybe was overcompensating for something that was making him really nervous.

"Maybe she's in on it." I threw out to try and get him out of his comfort zone. "Maybe she knew he was in danger because they coordinated with her." I was grasping at straws now and knew it, but I played it well enough.

"I don't think so." He wore a look, like he was seeing straight through me and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't the one at the interview table who knew the most. I inched in my seat.

"What's your relationship?" I pushed further, ignoring his comment

"I owe her. I want to see her have some resolution." His face relaxed a little and looked less cocky. It made me want to hit him less. Just.

"That's all?"

"That's all. Why do you ask?" He was smirking now and it simultaneously made me angry as well as nervous. I felt like a school child caught doing something taboo.

"I want to know for the case." I lied.

"Thought you got unceremoniously kicked off the case Sam." The way he said my name reeked of arrogance. _Damn. I got pulled up_ was my immediate thought, but I didn't blink, didn't give ground.

"I still need to understand what is going on here." I admitted.

"I can appreciate that." He uttered before leaning across the table. He looked at me as though searching for something, hoping for something.. "What if I told you....I thought I knew a little about what's happening."

"What do you think you know?" I pressed again.

"I think Rachael is involved with a religious organisation called Asatru. Her duty was to protect this child, but she can't quite remember what happened." It was a huge jump, but maybe he knew more than I did.

"Tell me about Asatru." I asked.

"They are an old order of pagan origins. They have a code of conduct, of honor, and extreme factions have representatives they send out on...missions....I guess." A nasty feeling grew inside me again.

"To protect people?" I asked trying not to sound incredulous.

"To uphold the values." He said as if it explained everything.

"Oh good, because what you were saying was making complete sense." My defensiveness got the most of me.

"Don't pretend everything you have seen makes sense." He replied to me, clearly irritated, but still trying to gain my favour.

"There are a few things...." I conceded, pausing to buy me time to consider what to tell him, but I figured it was worthwhile sharing. "They found a body outside a collapsed mine that fits the description of where Rachael seems to remember coming away from after she was taken. A man's body, beaten with a rock on the head, several lacerations and contusions...."

"And...?"Sabian asked

"The body dated as over 200 years old. Which is impossible of course." I wanted to see what he could make of that. I expected a stunned reaction, a confused expression. All I got was an acknowledging nod. I considered that Sabian may not be the whole box of cookies.

"So you see, there is more to this situation. The body, the parents wanting to kill off the boy, Rachael's reactions, her unexplained strength, the possessions..." He sighed as he trailed off, looking across the street as he considered what was going on.

My brain paused for a moment taking in what I had heard. "Wait. Did you say 'the possessions'?"

His attention came back to me. "The people on the tape of the van, twisting and jerking like that. I saw the same thing when those men broke in and she fought them."

"Why possessions?" I asked carefully.

"I think it's a faction working against good." He reacted to my prolonged silence by explaining further. "For every thing that is good, there is an evil."

"You are beginning to sound like our friend Robert Brown." I cautioned him, not really expecting him to take it on board now.

"Bear with me." Sabian instructed, and I let him go, hoping there would be a truth in what he was going to say I could explore. "In every mythological construct, every culture, there are good and bad beings. And there are creatures like demons, ghosts, or wraiths..."

"I've never heard of Wraith." I interjected.

"It's just a term to describe ghost like beings, there is very little lore about them, but what there is seems to indicate that they are the disembodied spirits of people who used to practice black magic, and when they die, they don't move on...just continue to exist, but with more power and voracity than just a plain spirit."

"Of course." I said, trying to keep a straight face.

Sabian leaned in. "I think Rachael has been given a task to be a guardian, or protector, and that these things, let's call them Wraiths in the absence of any further evidence, and taking over bodies of people around her to try and take her out."

I took a deep breath. "You think they are taking over bodies."

"Explains why none of the people on the abduction tape knew why they had done those things. Why ordinary people would do something like that."

I leaned forward to meet his eye level. "Are you serious. You are, aren't you? Listen. Sabian. I'm going to give you some advice. Get some help, and don't see Rachael again. Let her live her life, piece back what she can now she has some leads from the tape. Leave her be." I got up to walk away, but as I did he called after me.

"No one in the town the boy lived in recognises her do they? No one knows who she is, do they Sam."

I took a few steps back and slammed my hand on the table. "You need to stay away from her. She needs to get her head straight, not be confused with crap like this. Back off." He seemed unphased and leaned into me.

"How do you know what she needs. You can't even see what's right in front of you. I wouldn't have told you this if I didn't know you want to help, just like I do. She likes you, probably for good reason, but I don't think she trusts you. That's probably for a good reason too."

I decided to walk away before I did something I would regret. If I was going to get into trouble it wouldn't be for causing a scene here. It would be for something worthwhile. Maybe James was on to something after all – acting on instinct, acting on what you know to be true, not just what the rule book said. I was going to see her myself, talk her into sense about Sabian, and stand up and take what I wanted in the meantime.

#  Chapter 10: Rachael

"I'm supposed to stay away from you." He announced at my door. I looked him over as he stood, casually poised in the eave of my door. He looked every inch of the 6 foot plus he was in his lace up boots. My bare feet squirmed their grip on the freshly bleached floor. His hair was wet from the rain outside and his jacket glistened with his skin.

"You're wet." Was all I could muster. I was caught between being delighted to lay eyes on him, desperate to lay hands on him, and worried the smell of bleach might tip him off to what had happened here just a few hours before.

He met my stare and I shifted on the spot as I guarded the entrance. "Can I come in?" He asked me and I became conscious I was chewing my bottom lip. I immediately abandoned the bad habit and licked them over instead.

"What happened to staying away from me." I said guarded.

"As a matter of fact I'm not on your case anymore...." He said inching forward. I smiled, giving myself away. I stepped away form the doorway letting him in.

"I've got news for you though." He said as he walked in to the living room, looking larger than life.

"Jonah's alright." I said. He looked at me puzzled. "Sabian called me." I clarified for him.

"Of course he did." Sam came back, with a tone of....irritation?

"Well he only had nice things to say about you." I replied closing the door. I pressed my back against it tearing my eyes off Sam to give the place a quick visual. Everything looked very clean, but I knew I hadn't missed anything. There wasn't anything left to find that there had been two people killed here, and the open windows and incense had driven the smell away. "I was surprised you went to check on him for me. I thought you couldn't do that." He shrugged, but a feeling suddenly tugged at me. "That wasn't why you got kicked off the case was it?" His look changed from dark to defensive so I scrambled to ease the situation. "I mean, I don't want to be the one getting you in to trouble."

"I can do that just fine by myself." He said taking a step towards me. My heart hammered and my throat felt dry. I licked my lips again and looked at the floor.

"Sam..." I started, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Yeah." He took another step and pressed myself into the door harder. I looked up at him, and could almost feel my pupils dilate. I dug my nails in to the door behind me.

"What are you doing here." I asked of him, hoping for the answer I wanted.

"I just came to see you." He moved to stand over me and bent his head forward, arm leaning against the door just above my head. His eyes were bright and he smelled intoxicating.

"Right." I felt my lips part, my heart beat even faster and without thinking I moved into him, pressing my lips to his, and taking his collar pulled him closer to me.

I felt like those times I was slipping into the blackness, but better. As I kissed him and he kissed me, I grew less in control, and cared less about it. When he kissed me back he pressed my head back and subsumed me. His hands clasped my head and back and I instinctively raised my legs around him. He responded by kissing me deeper and walked with me suspended around his hips to the couch. He lay me down and I pulled at his shirt. He obliged by lifting his arms up and I tore it over his head. As soon as he was free of his shirt, he leaned over and started kissing me again, struggling with the buttons on my blouse. With a frustrated noise he simply took a side in each hand and wrenched the offending material open. Buttons flew everywhere, and only served to excite me more. I grinned at him as he broke from kissing me to ditch his pants. He looked at me darkly as I shimmied out of my skirt. Standing there he raked his gaze over me in a way that made me shudder – but for all the right reasons. He held out a hand for me, and I took it meaning to pull him down towards me but he pulled me to stand instead.

"What's the matter Sam?" I asked. I wondered if he was having second thoughts.

Sam continued to look over me gazing at my neck, my breasts. "Not a single thing." He murmured in my ear before kissing me softly behind it. He moved towards the main bedroom and tugged my arm gently to lead me ahead. I hesitated, knowing what had happened to me last time I went in there. "I won't bite." He teased and in between the smoldering look and the ache in my body, I forgot my fears and dashed ahead of him.

"Don't take this the wrong way," I challenged. "But I kind of hope you do."

***

We lay lazily in bed as the late afternoon light escaped. I must have dozed, laying curled up by his side, because suddenly I found he was shaking me awake. He looked worried, disturbed even.

"Sorry, I must have fallen asleep." I propped myself up and faced Sam, the sheet catching around my breasts. "Don't worry, I'm alright." Sam relaxed a little, but gave me a look like he was peering through me, looking for something. "What is it? What did I say?"

"You were asking someone called Uther to stop what he was doing. To let you go. It didn't sound.....pleasant."

I drew my knees up to my chest. "Great, another mystery." He leaned back against the headboard. I found a space under his arm and got comfortable beside him.

He absently looked down at me as I traced the veins in his closest hand.

"Rachael." He sighed my name and ordinarily I would have welcomed it, but his voice sounded pained. "I have another mystery for you."

"What? What is it?"

"They found a body in the desert, looked like it had been out for around a month. It was badly decomposed, but was found a few hundred metres from an unused mine entrance." Involuntarily I sat upright and turned towards him. "It looks like the description you gave, and it was close to where they found you." He looked me in the eye. "I expected Sabian told you that as well."

"No he didn't."

"Hmm. The really weird thing is Klink told me the body..."  
"Klink?" I asked.

"The Forensic Medical Examiner." He answered me.

"Why Klink?" I asked further, getting off track.

"She has a glass eye, a German accent and is ex-military, plus her last name is Clinkerman." I must have looked confused because he tried to explain further. "Colonel Klink from Hogan's Heroes..." I shook my head oblivious. "Anyway," He continued, "She was saying the body looks like it's been out in the desert for about a month, but some of the bones had unusual readings. When they were tested they were old."

"He _was_ old." I rebutted.

"No I mean old, old. A couple of hundred years."

"How is that even possible?" I looked over and out of the window, and Sam pulled a few strands of hair away from my face. He paused before saying anything more.

"You have lots of bad dreams since...you came back?" I nodded and looked back at him.

"I might not mind so much if I remembered more details though." I pulled away slightly and let the sheet fall from my body. "Just going to take a shower."

Sam grabbed my arm to stop me leaving and gave me an intense look. "Rachael, you have to stop seeing Sabian."

"Why?" I asked him.

"He isn't well. Mentally. He takes something strange like this body and turns it into something nightmarish, something less than realistic. I don't trust he's in the right frame of mind." He looked so intent, protective. I liked it, but Sabian had been my lifeline and knew about me in ways I couldn't explain to Sam. Not now, maybe never.

"I can't just ignore him Sam. He's helped me, stood by me. He even organised for me to live here... I'm not turning my back on him. He's helping me."

"I'll help you." He offered me, looking plaintively into my eyes. I paused and knelt back on the bed.

I stroked his face and he kissed my palm. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

With that I smiled, and headed into the main bathroom. There was the necklace I had found the other day, still sitting where I dropped it. I picked it up and as I stood spied the mirror. I decided it was time to grab hold of my fears, and with a sense of purpose, I turned on the taps and climbed into the jet sprays, languishing. As I stood there letting the sprays pummel my neck and upper back I let the water rush over me as I thought things through. An hour or so more and I could see what this special guy Sabian had found could help me with. The day after tomorrow I had a meeting with a regression specialist referred to me by the Psych from the other day. Whatever it was that I had forgotten was right there, I could almost taste it.

I exited the shower stall and wiped the steam from the mirror. I left my hand on the mirror for a moment while I stared at myself intently. I almost expected to see the face of that thing re-emerge from the shadows. I kept staring defiantly ahead until I was satisfied there was nothing more to see then relaxed my arm and let my hand rest by my side. I saw the necklace I had dropped in my hurry to run away a few days ago. I knelt to pick it up, and hovered examining the necklace in my hand. The weight felt perfect. It felt like something I had known forever. As I stood I thought I saw something in my peripheral vision, but I must have been mistaken, because when I checked there was nothing there.

I fastened the necklace around my throat, and walked out in nothing but a towel, the jewellery and my pride.

"Nice necklace." Sam said as I came out. He had gathered his clothes from the lounge and laid them on the bed.

"Found it a few days ago." I failed to elaborate on the details for good reason. "Just going to get dressed, I have to go out for a while tonight, but I'll be back if you want a late dinner." I headed for the doorway, but he stepped in front of me.

"Sounds like a plan." He said, kissing me again before letting me through. My heart started thumping again, but I wasn't sure if it was from the kiss, or knowing Sabian was going to be here any minute, and I was worried about Sam's reaction. I should be working on getting him out, but the truth was I liked him, trusted him and wanted him to stay.

Sabian's timing was spot on. He rang the door bell, just as I was pulling up my jeans. I opened the door to him intending to explain that Sam was there before Sam managed to get out of the shower and dressed again but I didn't quite make it. Curious, Sam had already stuck his head out of the door to see who it was and hadn't yet managed to put his shirt on. The tension rose exponentially from him, but Sabian just seemed amused. That made it worse, almost.

"Imagine seeing you here." Sabian said using a taunting tone in his voice.

"I was just about to say the same." Sam replied, stretching his shirt over his head.

Sabian looked back to me. "Been keeping busy I see Rachael." I tried not to blush, but probably failed. I made some kind of acknowledging sound before he let me off the hook. "Are you ready?" He asked, and if I thought Sam was tense before, I hadn't seen anything yet.

"Ready for what?" Sam demanded.

I turned to him and put my hand out to his chest in an appeasing way. "Sabian knows someone who might be able to help me remember things."

"I thought you had a set up with that specialist tomorrow." He said seriousness casting shadows on his face.

"The last specialist didn't exactly do anything. I need to find out what the hell is going on with me, and right now I can't rule anything out." My words seemed to calm the immediate tension, but he still looked angry and glared at Sabian intermittently. "I'll be back soon and we can do dinner, talk about this then. Sam. It's alright. I know what I'm doing." Sam suddenly looked calm as if he had made a decision of his own.

"I guess it wouldn't matter if I came along then." He addressed Sabian.

"More the merrier." Sabian replied and I baulked slightly as Sam took the lead out the door, and Sabian confidently held the door open for me to follow. I took a deep breath, picked up my bag from where I had dropped it by the couch and left the apartment.

The drive in Sabian's car was awkward in it's silence. I sat up front as Sam asked accusing questions about where we were going and Sabian dodged answering too many questions in detail.

When we arrived, I saw an old style sign hanging outside a curtained shop front. _The Candle & Book_, it read. As we entered, the sweet and sour smell of incense filled my nostrils and I inhaled deeply. There was a musky undertone that made me feel immediately at ease. I took a good look around when a male voice called out from the back, behind a beaded divider: "Be a few minutes."

The place was full to the brim with gothic artwares, stonecrafts, metal works, crystals and herbs. Books lined every wall, leaving only enough space to display some goods, and dark lighting shone just enough to create an atmosphere perfect for mediation.

Sam stood a few feet away from me and pulled a book from the wall. The Solitary Witch it read. He purposefully kept it out and made a gwaffing sound to draw my attention. He raised an eyebrow. "Really." He mocked. I shrugged. I wasn't about to exclude any avenue at this stage.

Sabian calmly leant against the glass cabinet at the front, reading through some crystal meanings while we waited. When finally the owner came out, I liked him immediately. He wore a bizarre purple jacket that immediately got Sam's eyes rolling, but his face radiated awareness, openness and trust. He came out, nodding in acknowledgement to Sabian, but headed straight for me.

"Forgive the lateness." He started. "I was fixing a potion, and cannot leave such things mid-way." He smiled a smile that made me want to return it, his white teeth showcased against his dark skin, and his accent hinting to Haitian or Carribian background. He took up my hand and kissed it as thought I were a lady and he a knight of honor. It wasn't uncomfortable, but definitely was unexpected. "You must be the lady Rachael." He enthused. "I am so glad you came to me. He took a step back and looked over me. Sam moved closer to me on instinct, and Sabian regarded the situation as though expecting every move. "You have a very interesting aura." The man commented with a furrowed brow. "There is a lot happening for you, but today, we will start to uncover it. Leave it to Armada."

"Wow. He must be psychic." Sam said disrespectfully earning a distasteful glance from Armada.

"You have bad mojo man." Armada said to Sam. "No need to be bringing it in here. I work hard enough to keep the darkness away."

"So sorry" Sam replied, not in the least bit sounding like he meant it.

"Some people take more time to win over." Sabian diffused taking a step towards a table where Armada was headed for.

"Hmm." Came the acknowledging grunt from Armada. "You sit there...." He pointed to a seat several feet from the table he sat at. With an almost adolescent huff, Sam took the seat and Sabian couldn't help himself, but chuckle. "Rachael my dear," Armada then spoke to me, motioning to a chair in the corner at the same table. "I thought you might be more comfortable with your back to the wall."

"You're a Psychologist as well as a psychic." Declared Sam. Armada ignored him, maintaining his attention to me.

I frowned, but he was right. As if answering the question written on my face, he further explained in a lower voice: "Most people who feel like they are being chased prefer their back to the wall. I nodded and took the seat gratefully. Sabian took one next to me, but remained a foot away, giving Armada and I a respectful distance.

"Why Armada?" Sabian asked, to which Armada shrugged off his coat and pulled up the sleeve of his jumper. There was a picture of a moth tattooed on his arm.

Armada is a moth of the Noctuidae family. He pleasantly gazed at me as I traced the outline.

"That wasn't what you were named for though was it?" Sam added. "I can pick a tale." He added, but instead of getting angry Armada simple smiled knowingly.

"You are a smart man Samuel. I was named after a floating city in the book The Scar. I prefer moths myself.....but you can't pick your origins, just change the choices you make and the way you present yourself."  
"Who told you my name?" Sam asked puzzled. No one had called him by his name since we arrived, I thought back.

"Ahhh...." Replied Armada, getting comfortable in his seat. "Maybe Sabian just mentioned a stubborn, arrogant disbeliever was attached to this rose," He took my hand and placed a clear crystal in my left palm, and clasped the other with his hand, "And my thoughts automatically fall to you." He smiled in a way that told us that part wasn't true, and it was enough to get Sam slightly on edge.

"You hold the crystal in your right hand, I hold your left." I became slightly nervous. "All you have to do is relax, close your eyes and let my voice guide you." I obeyed, and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and he encouraged me to do the same again. Almost immediately, I felt my muscles relax, my arms and shoulders become supple as I listened to him. "Relax, imagine you are sitting on the edge of a quiet beach, watching the waves roll in. It is dawn, you are alone and perfectly safe. Perfectly calm."

"I can't" I felt myself become agitated and he heard it in my voice.

"No problem, relax again.....breathe gently. Let's try something else instead. I want you to breathe deeply and clear your mind. Tell me where are you, is it a white room, a dark room, outdoors..."

"I am in blackness. There's nothing here. I don't even know if I am in a room." I replied quickly.

"Can you visualise a light? A white or purple light coming from you?"

"I see a red light shining inside me." I observed feeling my eyes rolling under my lids as I struggled to see about me.

"Stay calm. It's good to sense the light. I want you to sit, in the place where you are, and concentrate on growing the light. Can you do that?" I felt myself nod. "When you are ready, I want you to imagine you are floating, lie down if it is easier, and let yourself float."

I tried but couldn't. Something else happened instead and I sharply gasped and twitched in my seat.

"Rachael. What is it? What is it that worries you?" I heard Armada's voice, and behind him I heard Sabian ask if he was sure it was alright to continue, and Sam protest that he might cause more damage. Armada hushed them.

"Rachael?" Armada asked me again.

"When I try and imagine floating there is some kind of liquid that rises up. I'm laying down but it wants to rise over my face." I felt the worry on my face because there was something else I didn't want to mention. Not only was the black water rising to swallow me up, but I had felt hands grab at my legs arms and face. Not suddenly, not frightening, but reaching up to pull me down.

"Can you float on this water?" He asked.

"No....I sink into it." I lied.

"Does it frighten you? If you let yourself sink, does it frighten you?"

I thought about it and let myself sink, let the hands, slick with the dark liquid pull me under for a moment. I didn't fear it, was not scared at all. "No. It feels safe." I answered.

"Then let yourself go." He advised and I baulked for a moment at the thought. "It's alright, let your feelings guide you. Let the water surround you, sink until you find perfect comfort." I felt Armada let my left hand go and it rose as though floating above me. I felt the hands drag me deeper, the blackness take me and as I breathed it in I reached a sense of ultimate repose. Finally, as I sank, I found myself in another dark room, but it looked as though it was carved form the earth and there was a distant light external to myself. I wore a one armed red dress that blew in a light breeze that I could not feel. Curiously I looked about and saw a door.

"I see a door." I heard myself say, genuinely surprised.

"What kind of door Rachael?" Armada asked, but before I could answer the place around me began to tremble and I heard a freaking scream. I covered my ears and dropped to my knees. There she was. The same face I had seen in the mirror. She stood next to the door, white with black eyes, thinning hair and horrifying. Without warning she flew at me and my eyes shot open. I gasped for air and saw Sabian shoot to his feet.

"It's alright. It's alright." Comforted Armada. "You are back." He reclined in his chair and Sabian sat back down.

"What did you see?" I heard Sam ask. I rested my head in my hands.

"I saw something...it looked like me, but it wasn't. She was old, decayed looking. She shrieked and...." I stopped talking wondering if I should tell them I saw the same thing in the mirror. I felt my hands shake as I raised my head back up and decided against it.

"A Wraith." Armada said. I looked at him inquiringly. "Sabian said he thought people around you had been taken over. He saw them have fits, then try to attack you."

"What is a Wraith?" I asked him.

"This is bull shit." Sam said standing to his feet. "The two of you are teaming up for whatever reason. She could have said she saw a half pigeon, half cat and you would have come to the conclusion of a Wraith."

"There are things that walk this world that we can only understand but a little." Armada tried to explain. "Wraiths are one of those things. Sometimes they are called ghosts, demons, portends of a persons death, but in this case, I think we are looking at something that takes over a person temporarily when Rachael is close to recovering herself, or meeting her goals. There are arguments that they can be good or bad. The origin was similar to 'guardian angel'. Anyway it doesn't matter right not. I think you did well tonight girl. It isn't easy, but I sense so much in you." He patted my hands affectionately.

"Rachael. Come with me." Sam pleaded. I automatically looked at Sabian, but stood to follow Sam nonetheless. I gave Sabian a beseeching look.

"Thank you Armada. Thanks Sabian." I said as I followed Sam.

"See you soon." Called Armada, who gave a nod in response to Sabian's, and Sabian followed us out into the night.

"I'll give you a lift back." Sabian offered, but Sam shook his head.

"I think all your help has been disturbing enough. I'll take her home." Sam's tone clearly irritated Sabian.

"You don't get to tell her what to do." Started Sabian in an aggressive tone I had never heard him use before. "We have tried to include you here Sam, help you understand this is more than a few scattered murders, and abducted child, but you are still denying that anything strange is happening. Do you think _that_ is helping her?"

"Hey!" I cautioned stepping between. "I make my own choices, you're right Sabian, and right now, I promised to get dinner with Sam. Maybe we can pick up tomorrow." I faced Sabian. "Thank you so much. I know you're helping me, but I am tired and just want to get something to eat and sleep. Can you be alright with that?" He looked back at me as though surprised I would even worry about him being alright with my decisions. I wondered suddenly how much more there was to his growing obsession with my case. He wasn't interested in me physically, but he had such a passionate flare when it came to finding out about me. It was both inspiring and concerning at once.

"Of course, call me tomorrow if you want. I can organise another visit with Armada. I need to go meet Natasha for drinks anyway. Try and decide what we do next."

"Is she open to you going home then?"

"I Hope so. She called me so I suppose that's a good sign." He tipped his head, took a last long look at Sam and headed back towards his car.

I took Sam's hand and we walked in the opposite direction. A little later down the road, he hailed a taxi and we ended up having dinner at the diner across from the apartment. Reluctantly we parted ways outside with him promising to take me out the next day to a park he visited whenever he needed to think. I looked forward to it, but had I known what was going to happen there, I would have run for my life.

#  Chapter 11: Sabian

Thankfully sleep was something now coming back to me, thanks to the sleeping pills that now took up a semi permanent spot on my side table. I awoke around 8:00am and dragged myself into the day with a double espresso and a hot shower. I felt there had been progress last night at Armada's even if there had been the opposite with Natasha.

Eagerly, I waited for a decent length of time, then called her. I felt solace in contact with her, especially since everything else in my life felt devoid of sense since the incident.

"Hello?" I heard her dulcet tone and felt relief wash over me.

"Hello, Sabian?" She repeated and I became aware I hadn't answered her.

"Yes, just me calling to see how you are."

"I'm good. I had strange dreams all night, but I guess that's not unexpected."

"What were they of?"

"Just that door, over and over...no strange things leaping out at me from the dark though, so I suppose that's a plus."

"Definitely."

There was an awkward pause I didn't know how to fill. Maybe I was still groggy from the sleeping pills.

"What about you?" She probed. "Are you alright? You sound a bit...off centre."

"I'm fine – just tired. I was thinking, I know it's none of my business, but it might be a good idea to stay away from Sam for a little bit. He seems a bit overprotective and not really on board with what seems to be happening for you."

"Can you blame him? It is a bit unbelievable if you look at it. I don't even know where I stand. You're a rational man, what do you think, I mean _really_ think."

"I think that I can't shut my mind off to anything right now. I know it sounds full of superstition and magic hocus pocus, but it feels like it makes sense. Maybe I _am_ crazy. Maybe that brake in and Amber and Robert.....dying. Maybe that broke me and I've gone over the edge. Either way, I'm not sure why, but I think I'm going to hell."

"Then we can keep each other company."

"Whatever it is that's going on, we'll work it out, then life will be back to how it has always been. Just more interesting...you know."

"What happened with Natasha?"

".....Nothing...still in negotiations." I joked, but the truth is that my marriage had finally dissolved last night. Natasha had actually called to let me know we had a buyer for the house, in record time and she gave me an ultimatum. Come to Germany with her or stay behind and let her go.

"And today is Amber's funeral." She added.

"It is – 10:00. Natasha is coming to that, then packing the house up. I move out next week."

"Where are you staying?"

"Finally going to set up in our holiday house, like I said, take a break and figure out what I want. Truth is I felt lost for a long time before we met. Wasn't sure what I wanted. It's true what they say – your life flashes before your eyes and changes you – you question everything."

"Sabian – you sound depressed. You aren't going to do anything to hurt yourself are you? Do you want me to come around."

"No – do whatever you had planned for the day. I'm fine. I will be fine, just going through the motions you know."

"I understand. I'm going out to the park for lunch...Come over after. We can talk – alright?"

"Let's do that. I'll see you after. I was doing some more reading after I left, might be something useful to run through."

"Great." And with that I hung up the phone. Today was a bad day. I had to bury my sister, come to the realisation my marriage was over, and plunge in to the ridiculous. No wonder Gavin thought I was crazy, Rachael was right. The whole situation was implausible to say the least. But why should it be. People believe in alien abductions, in ghosts and demons. I wasn't alone, it just wasn't what rational people were taught to think. Another time and place, people would be lined up to hear some of the theories I was spouting and people like Sam would be on the outer, the fringe. At least she believed me.

I got dressed and walked past an open book I had left open on the counter, one of the many I had been reading over the last few days. They littered the tables, benches, bed and chairs. There were so many theories, texts and areas of conjecture surrounding the paranormal, it was doing my head in. Really though, I was glad of the distraction. It gave me something other that the type of flowers to pick, the eulogy, the notifications in the paper and the thank you cards I had already asked my assistant to start filling in on my behalf. Losing Amber had been painful. I was almost glad our parents weren't around for this or I really didn't think I could take anymore. I shut the book happily and straightened my tie in the mirror.

I managed to hold it mostly together for the service. I read one of her favourite poems, let my Aunt cry on my shoulder and tell me how glad at least I made it. Natasha stood next to me in support, but never touching. The distance may as well have been a mile if it were an inch. I felt vacuous and plastic.

Throughout the reception and the seemingly endless parades of hands to shake, condolences and concerned looks I let my mind wonder to the myriad of theories I had read over, the signs – ancient and less so, the runic sigils I had briefly encountered over the next few days, wraiths and other 'otherworldly' spirits and beings described across cultures and expanses of time. There were certainly plenty of similarities, but almost as many discrepancies.

I was going with the term wraith, just like Armada had, and trying to draw on any common factors. Some played on my mind more than others, that they would, where possible surround themselves by those to protect or resource them – politicians, negotiators, killers, those who practice magic, makers and keepers of laws, and outshining it all, the Asatru background was the most encouraging of all. Their history was more or less concrete, their order clearly defined and determined – a polytheistic belief system that was easy enough to categorise and understand for me. The habits and rituals were similarly tangible, with runic magic as a deeper well of knowledge, but again one strongly rooted in history.

The Asatru were, as I understood so far, were descendant from Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon pre-Christian faith that honored Gods and Goddesses, such as Odin and Freyja. These Gods were also recognized as the Æsir and Vanir. There had been recent resurgences of public practices of the faith in the mid to late 1900's, with worldwide movements and official recognition. Groups of members were called Kindred.

Aligned with the belief in the Æsir and Vanir, there was a heavy focus on ritual practices, and living in accordance with something called the Nine Virtues of Asatru: Courage, truth, honor, fidelity, hospitality, discipline, industriousness, self reliance, and perseverance. In legend, the Æsir and Vanir were born at the beginning of the world, and the God Odin made the first man and woman, along with nine worlds. More deeply rooted in magic, some areas of practice involved something called Runic magic, which engaged using the ancient alphabet tablets allegedly handed down by the gods to men. Rumor added that factions engaged specific individuals 'assignments' that were principal to meeting the Nine Virtues.

If any of that were true, and believable, why hadn't anyone tracked Rachael when she made front page news? She somehow had remained hidden. The Runic symbols she had used that had led me to the theory she was tied to the Asatru in the first place might be the key. Perhaps even, I tried to reason with myself, Rachael had been endowed through their magics with a strength and capacity to protect, but when she fought, expended energy, that made her somehow traceable to them? That would explain how the Wraith would be able to track her like that.

By the time we wrapped up the reception, the wake, I felt like I needed to tell her everything I had run through, explain her background to her, restore her sense of purpose. She hadn't said so, but I suspected that her lunch in the park was a date with Sam, but as the driver of the taxi escorted me home, I saw them sprawled on a cliché picnic rug a few hundred meters from the busy road. I called for the driver to stop, paid him and stepped out.

Rachael looked almost blissfully happy there with him and it reminded me of when Natasha and I had met, trekking across Europe. Picnics and hideaways, impulsive behaviours and all those things I had admired in her. Even as she probably was organising the divorce I still missed the way she would smile at me, her strength. I stole myself away along the edge of the park and into a thick section of trees. While I realised I ran the risk of looking like a stalker, I just wanted to hover for a moment. They sat, relaxed and talking about something light, he watched her intently, and she played with a daisy she picked nervously from the grass beside her. Every once in a while the little girl from the family next to them would squeal at her older brother playing Frisbee with his dad while her mother sat with the basket they had brought with them. The girl kept trying to jump up and join but wasn't old enough to keep up yet. I refocused my attention back on Rachael and Sam. They would probably be in this park five years from now playing ball or flying a kite of something with their kids. Perhaps her being with Sam wasn't such a bad thing. His lack of lateral thinking might be the distraction she needed. _Irony is my mistress_ I thought.

My gut fell though, when Sam, looking up to the heavens to check on the impending rain clouds scanned over his shoulder and spotted me. This looked bad. Definitely stalker bad.

When he first made eye contact he didn't say anything to her, just twitched his jaw and grimaced. It took him a moment to tell her I was there. I didn't bother moving, that would probably look worse. She stood with him, but he ushered her to stay. She stood hands on hips seeming to weigh up whether to just come over anyway. He took giant strides over to me and I could tell he was containing his will to run and probably tackle me to the ground. And honestly, if he had, I think I would have understood. Instead he drew to an agitated halt about a foot away from me.

"What the hell man....?" Sam started and I put my hands up in submission.

"Alright, I really know how bad this looks." I acknowledged, but he just raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I seriously was just passing by and saw her. I was going to meet her later, but thought I would talk to her now instead - until I saw the two of you. I was just leaving when you saw me." I protested but it was lost on him. I spied Rachael shifting on her feet the few yards away.

"Hey look at me." Sam actually grabbed me by the collar and my focus transferred back to him. "You, and your freaking crazy theories need to back off." Before he could say any more, there was a scream from the mother sitting with her family near where Sam and Rachael were set up. The little girl had got away from her parents keen watch and was pummeling the pavement towards the oncoming traffic. The mother lurched from the ground, scrambling to gain distance. The father took off, abandoning the Frisbee, but there was no way they were going to make it. I willed the child to stop, time to freeze but flinched knowing the inevitable.

In the blink of an eye there was a drag of light around Rachael. Just for a second, almost unperceivable if I hadn't already been attuned to her. Her hands rose to face palm out towards the child and she looked as if she pushed, or lifted something. At the same time, the car headed towards the little girl screeched, black tire smoke surrounding it, but it flipped up, before landing back on the ground. The sound of several cars crashing into each other caused a commotion before, through the dissipating smoke, the little girl's cry rang out, and in my peripheral vision, I saw Rachael collapse into the grass.

Sam must have seen her fall as well, because as the mother clutched her child weeping, and the family sighed in relief as people came out of their vehicles to investigate what was happening, he bolted over to her. I followed on his heels, and arrived in time to see him checking over her, placing his head to her chest. She wasn't breathing. I took my phone out to call for help, but I saw, just underneath her collar a bright red marks against her skin.

"What's that?" I asked him, and Sam pulled back her collar to reveal an unusual welting pattern.

"It looks like a..."

"License plate." I answered for him. Reading it backwards, I burned the plate number into my memory.

"I'm starting CPR." His voice was actually shaking. Just as he started the first compression though, she gasped, rising forward to a seating position, struggling to breathe. The capillaries in her eyes had all burst giving the effect of blood red eyes against black irises. She looked haunted, horrified and her eyes bore through us both before she tore free and rushed past us both, pushing Sam to the ground and leaving her slip on shoes on the grass in her wake. She ran even more quickly than I recalled her moving back at my house when she had taken on those murderers. Sam just made it to his feet in time for us to see her disappear into the bushes.

We both followed in to the wooded area, small enough to line the park in shade and not be called a forest, dense enough to let the high school kids get up to socially unacceptable high jinx and hide Rachael from our immediate view. We past two startled pot smoking teenagers as we covered the ground in the woods. One of them was smirking and he pointed behind him.

I saw why he was smirking a moment later. Rachael's shirt was left hanging as though thrown through the air behind her. Her skirt was only a short distance away. We slowed as we past her underwear and Sam spun around to me.

"Where the hell is she? Where did she go?"

He was panic stricken, and yet oddly, I felt like everything was as it was supposed to be. Except for one thing. In the distance I saw a man who looked like a groundskeeper, head turned upwards, doing the same full-body convulsion I was getting used to seeing. I pointed to him and Sam followed my direction. We both froze for a moment taking the strange sight in. When the man had stopped his seizure his head dropped.

I held my breath waiting, not sure exactly what was going to happen next.

When he lifted his head, his eyes seemed dead. He looked at us and we looked back. Then the man broke his fixation on us, his eyes darting towards a larger tree in the thick of the brush before returning to us. We all remained still, waiting for someone to make the first move. Sam flinched first. He took off through the trees headed to the tree the man had eyeballed a moment ago. The maintenance man headed the same way and I trailed them both. Branches flicked out at me, scratching at my face and arms as they whipped past. The two of them ahead of me met with a crash that saw Sam knocked straight on to his back. As the other man jumped at him, Sam kicked out and I arrived on the edge of the scene. I hesitated and started looking for something that could be a weapon. Quickly recovering, the man, who had clearly been taken over by one of the wraith took hold of Sam's coat and in spite of Sam's efforts to block him, landed a punch that snapped Sam's head back. When Sam straightened his neck again, the Wraith hoisted him in to the air, meaning to slam him down across one of the massive tree roots.

With no time to lose, I grabbed hold of the nearest decent sized tree branch and struck the wraith over the head. Sam was dropped to the ground, but in spite of the blood, the Wraith turned to face me. I took the branch in both hands meaning to use it like a club, but didn't need it after all. Sam stood behind him and with a rock held in both hands, struck the wraith on the base of his neck causing it to fall unconscious. Panting for breath, Sam rested his hands on his knees.

"Thanks." He mustered.

"Anytime." I replied, still steadying myself. It had been a long time since I had run the length of a football pitch, and I was feeling it. I put a hand on my lower back to brace it and Sam laughed. "Something on your mind." I objected as Sam gathered himself to stand straight.

"Nothing old man."

"Yeah – think that's funny, let's see you in another five or six years." I mocked him, but the moment returned to serious almost immediately.

"He was something else. Strong" Sam remarked before I tapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards the base of the tree. There in the underbrush, covered in dirt was Rachael, seeming to be asleep. I knelt beside her and Sam stood back apprehensive as to what I might find. Brushing aside the dirt, she tossed gently as though sleeping soundly. I listened to her breathing.

"She's alright. She's sleeping."

"What is she doing in there? She dug herself a shallow grave – for what?" He asked bemused.

"Your guess is as good as mine." I responded brushing more dirt aside. I cleared the area across her chest. The deep red license plate mark on her chest had almost all but disappeared.

"She's healing." Sam commented, and I looked at him. Finally some acknowledgement. When he finally uttered his next words, I knew now we were all on the same page. "I don't understand how she did it, but she stopped that car from hitting the girl, then ran in here to heal herself." He paused dramatically before adding "The world unravels itself."

I looked back at him for an explanation as to the last sentence. He shrugged. "I read it in a book somewhere...by someone 'Silver' – it seemed appropriate." We both turned our attention back to Rachael, she moaned as if struggling to wake and move.

"Help her up." I instructed, as I shrugged off the coat I was still wearing. We could pick up her clothes on the way back out.

The dirt slipped from her skin as Sam held her steady as she stood, leaning against him. I covered her as best as I could without looking. We were in the middle of this action when the maintenance guy started rousing.

The man rolled to his back clutching the back of his head and Sam thrust Rachael at me so he could pick up a branch, readying it to club the man as he laid eyes on us. It was immediately obvious that the man was back to himself. He held his hand up in defense, a frightened look on his face. Sam eased off. The man scrambled to stand and fled into the trees. Sam looked like he might go after him for an instant before he stopped to speak. "We need to get lost before he calls the police." He turned to Rachael who was standing freely now. "You alright?"

"I can stand, I can walk, but...." Her voice wavered. "I don't know what happened. I don't think I'm right Sam." He put an arm around her as I led us back out to the tree line.

"There's nothing to be scared of Rachael." I called from up ahead. "You did good."

As we walked back, she collected her clothes but still looked a mess. Police and ambulances lined the park near where the event with the girl had taken place. "Sam," I paused to regard him. "You take her home, I'll go get your things so they can't find anything too easily. Just in case."

"See you back at the apartment then." Sam said nodding and they walked in the opposite direction, Rachael still shoeless and dressed in my coat. It wasn't too far to walk across the park.

Rain started drizzling by the time I collected her shoes, the blanket and cooler from where they had left them on the grass. I couldn't help it. I had to go have a look. I ventured over to the flashing lights, the police taking statements and had a closer look at the car that had so nearly taken the life of the little girl, the one that had so amazingly lifted into the air, diverting it's trajectory from running her down. The license plate number was the same as that which had been burned on to Rachael's chest. As if I had ever doubted it.

#  Chapter 12: Sam

Once we got to the edge of the park, it was a short walk back to the apartment. She was shaking, trembling like she had a current running through her. Her breathing was jagged as well, and I ignored the people staring at her as she walked barefoot along the concrete in a coat that made her look as naked underneath as she was. When we got back, I sat her down and fumbled to find her shoes and some clothes while I called for a cab. I was just giving the hospital as our destination when she startled me by taking the phone from my hand. "No need."

"Like hell." I argued back, but tired as she was she simply gave me a re-assuring smile.

Running her hand through my hair she tried to reasoned with me. "I'll be fine, just need to sleep it off." My look of protest only made her resolve stronger and she made her argument stronger. "What are we going to tell them Sam?" She moved closer into me as she stroked down my neck and shoulders. "I stopped a car with my mind? There's an imprint of the license plate number on my chest. Don't think they're going to look into it a little." Her tone was upbeat though she had a worn looking smile etched on her features. "All I need is a bath and the chance to sleep this off a little. I'll be good as new." And I believed her.

I ran her a bath and she lazed in there for about an hour before I knocked to check on her. She emerged a few seconds later wrapped in a fluffy red towel. The mark on her chest was barely visible now, but she wore purple and black shadows under her eyes. Flopping on the bed she dangled her legs off the edge, she held her gaze straight up at the ceiling, and I was sure she knew I watched her from the doorway because she spoke to me then.

"Sam. I don't know why you're here. Why you want to spend time with me." Her voice quivered. "But I think you should go." A single tear rolled down her cheek and on to the bed though the rest of her face remained stoic looking.

"Don't start that..." I dismissed, but then she looked at me, deathly serious.

"I mean it." No waver in her voice now. "There's something not right with me. You should get away while you still can. Please leave."

I couldn't help but go to her. I sat on the edge of the bed next to her and she looked away from me.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with you. You just,...you're special." That got a laugh, or a half laugh, half chuckle at least. She propped up beside me.

"I just have a really bad feeling, and I keep seeing....things....when I close my eyes."

"Like what." I explored.

"Dirt, screaming, nasty things in my head."

"Look at everything you've gone through in the last week. You wonder why you have things in your head like that? I'd be worried if you didn't." I put an arm around her and pulled her into my chest. "A couple more days, lets find out some more. Maybe you should go see Armada again."

She nodded into me in agreement.

"Why did you bury yourself like that Rach? I really want to know how you knew that would help you." She was still for a moment and then started rambling.

"The trees know the earth so well. Give back life, health. The earth is everything to us, the dirt the animals, the air and the sun..."

"What do you mean?" I tried to clarify, but all I got in response was more confusion.

"They think I am the hammer. But the truth is I am not of those." As she continued her mumbling I let her rock back slightly and I realised she was asleep, dreaming. I lay her down as I heard a knocking on the door.

Reluctantly I left her to answer the knock.

"Sabian." I acknowledged. He handed me the blanket we had taken to the park, with her clothes wrapped in it, and the cooler.

"Her things, your things..." He hesitated after I took the items from him before asking me: "Do I get to come in?".

I hadn't even realised I had him still standing in the hall. An old lady with a dog patrolled by glaring in at me. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted." I apologised and moved aside to let him in.

"It is a bit overwhelming." He supplied.

"You could say that." I admitted as I put everything on the floor in a neat pile. Sabian was wearing gloves and removed them, stuffing them in to his pocket as he looked me over. I felt like an intern on probation or something.

"She's alright then." Sabian more stated than asked.

"Seems to be. She's just sleeping." I felt as stilted as my words. I had to ask him while she was out of it. "You really think something - and I cringe as I say this – mystical is going on."

"I do." The response was as certain as declaring the oceans blue. "A war of good and evil of sorts is how I'm grasping it."

The answer still dissatisfied me, but I was having to accept a lot more than I had thought possible before right now. If there was a chance to talk about this, other than across the table with a shrink, this was it though. "I don't really get a lot of this stuff, but something that bothers me Sabian, if Rachael has this power given to her by the Asatru – why haven't they found her? Taken her back. Helped her remember?"

Sabian sighed as if it were an issue troubling him as well. "I don't know the answer to that."

"And these wraith are out to stop her." I had to say it out loud to accept it.

"It seems like that's what's going on." Sabian said as his eye caught a wood and metal box laying on the coffee table. "Listen, I thought I would take this to an antique dealer who has specialty interests in the Occult."

"What is it?" I asked and took a note of Sabian's palpable hesitation.

"She found it." He lied to me. What did he know that she hadn't told me? It got under my skin that he had a head start on her trust because I hadn't bought into all this from the start. "She thinks she's seen it before." He lied again. If it was something I was good at, it was picking a liar. I didn't let him know I knew, but was aware of him scanning me to see if I had picked him up.

"Great, take it, let me know."

"Sure." Sabian agreed with a guilty twang in his tone.

While I had him so agreeable, I decided to ask him for a favour. "Hey Sabian, Rachael also has that appointment with the regression specialist – I need you to call and cancel for her. I cant take her like this, and if it gets back to them that I made the call for her, I'm in some deep shit with my boss."

"So this is a long term relationship then." The snide comment caught me off guard. Before I had time to react though, he excused himself "Sorry – my mouth moving before I have thought things through." Sabian clasped the box tighter, and readied to leave. "I better get going if I want to get this to the courier."

"I suppose you'll be back later. Let us know what they say about it." I bobbed my head towards the wooden container.

"I have some final arrangements with some of my clients about being off work for so long, then yeah, I'll be back on the grid later today." With that Sabian left, taking a moment to dip his head at me as he closed the door behind himself.

That left me standing alone in the apartment with Rachael sound asleep in the next room.

Sabian had actually brought up a sore point. What sort of future was there in our relationship. None really. We were debriefed well in training about relationships of crisis seeming to mean more than they actually did. It didn't seem like that was what was happening with Rachael though – but then the trainers always said that it wouldn't feel fake, or circumstantial. But this was different. I could say that because I had been there before, thought I had made this incredible connection with my last girlfriend. Her brother had died in the same hospital my father had been moved to when he took his walk off the rooftop. Together we comforted, lashed out, acted out...all those things you do after someone leaves you. No matter how justified. I had thought how lucky I was to have found someone at just the right time, until James had pointed out how very different she was to me, all the space we didn't quite close, and all the things we had together were locked in what the counsellors call 'unhelpful behaviours'. Of course as soon as he pointed all this out, the magic disappeared, and we had separated on almost good grounds.

Rachael....was different. I admired her strength and resilience, coupled with her delicate nature. She wanted me, but I knew she didn't need me. Every time I thought of her I thought of her red lips, the curves of her waist, the way she bit her lip and blushed at the same time when she knew I was looking at her.... She made my heart race in all the right ways and above everything right now, I wanted to help her find her solid ground. If she wanted to leave her past shrouded in mystery, that was fine, if she wanted to track it down and make it her own again, I would help her do that. What I didn't like was seeing her in pain, and as much as it made me uncomfortable to admit it, Armada had seemed to make some ground towards helping her release that part of her that was kept in shadow. I would encourage her to go back when she woke up.

I found my way back to the bedroom, and lay beside her watching her as I puzzled over who she could be, how much of what Sabian took as gospel was true, and how I couldn't doubt my own eyes this afternoon. What was this riddle that lay before me. I didn't want to leave her alone tomorrow, but I had to go in to meet the new guy. Who starts work on a Saturday anyway?! I figured I would see how she was doing in the morning and worry then.

Watching her eyes flicker underneath her lids, she would suddenly gasp as though frightened or surprised, and then almost immediate relaxation again. It was fascinating, but I was tired and willed sleep to come, but I couldn't close my eyes. It was 12:00am before I realised how long I had stayed there, just watching.

Eventually I drifted into a short lived sleep and woke again at 4:30am. I stretched, hating that I was wide awake, but I still had a lot on my mind. I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a coffee before collapsing on the couch and putting my feet up on the table. I rested in the silence for a moment before looking around for the remote. I found it in the pages of a book on paranormal phenomenon. It was in-between pictures of runic markings and another of a freakish ghost like woman with black eyes and sharp teeth. I started reading the captions, and flicked the page over before snapping it shut.

"Now I'm going crazy." I muttered to myself before turning on the TV. About 7:00am I took one of my 100 visits to the doorway of the main bedroom to check on her. It was then that I heard a dripping coming from the tap in the bathroom. It sounded ominous in the half light and I stealthily moved through the bedroom to the doorway of the bathroom squinting to see through the dark.

I peered into the blackness of the windowless bathroom and as I did I almost thought I could hear something other than the dripping tap. I felt cold, and took a step forwards.....

I felt hands reach over my neck and clasp me. I jumped for a second before I realised it was Rachael, and laughed at my own creep factor getting the best of me.

"How are you feeling?" I queried as I sat back on the bed with her.

"Fantastic actually." She beamed, and I had to admit she looked it too. "You looked as though you were looking for something in there." She pointed to the bathroom. The mysterious dripping tap seemed to have stopped.

"No, just too much thinking, that's all."

"About what?" I turned my attention to her in whole.

"About how insignificant all kinds of things are after a day like yesterday." When I spoke she sank back further on the bed and regarded me with a curiosity.

"You're questioning everything....it raises more questions than answers some of this." She offered me sympathy, but I realised for me the whole situation was offering me something else.

"Actually, it answers a lot" Rachael looks confused. "The ongoing debate you have with yourself in my line of work about good, evil, where some of the horrifying things people do to each other come from. I know a bit about psychology, a bit about social constructs of a person, but some of the things I've seen."

Rachael nodded in renewed understanding. "The darker side of mankind."

"The darkest pit of human behaviour. Seems maybe some of it wasn't human after all." When I said that though, her facial expression changed to one that was cynical and very unlike her.

"Don't kid yourself, humans are quite capable of answering for their atrocities without needing to resort to blaming ghosts and ghouls." Her voice had been unexpectedly dark and morbid.

It was my turn to ask for clarity. "Where did that come from?"

"Good question." She said, lightening almost immediately. "I guess I'm not the most trusting of individuals right now – what with the being hunted down and all, seeing things...not remembering enough."

I paused to think about what she said. It must be a veritable hell to not have control like that. I was just an observer really, she was living it, no matter how much I helped. At least I could make it easier. "My dad said he saw things, heard things before he died. I find myself asking all kinds of new questions."

"Sounds like an awful lot of hard work." She bantered and reluctantly I realised I would have to leave her and move on with my day. She was well enough to fend for herself again.

"Speaking of, I have to go to work."

"It's Saturday! Aren't you off until Monday." She reminded me.

"I am, but my new partner is having his orientation and I really need to be there." I was looking for excuses even as we spoke, but I didn't want the gossip about why I wasn't there to overshadow my and my new partner's work together.

"Do you have to go?" She sounded so plaintive, I nearly jumped at the opportunity to avoid going in, facing my boss and the idiot office clerk that blew a mountain into a molehill.

"I would rather spend the day in bed with you if that's what you asking."

"What happens to us when you go back? Do we have to pretend we don't know each other, sneak around?" She gave a cheeky smile.

I leaned in on top of her and kissed her forehead, then lips lightly. "You say that like you like the idea."

"I just don't want to get you into trouble."

"I'll touch base with my boss and see what his take is, then report back – how does that sound?" I asked and she made a salute with the hand that wasn't holding her up. I hopped up and pulled on my shirt before looking back at her stretching under the sheets. She looked completely restored. Maybe I should have a lie in the dirt every once in a while. "You going to speak with Sabian again?" I distracted myself.

"He's been doing a lot of research so I want to pick his brain." She squinted and watched my suspiciously as I pulled on my socks and shoes. "I thought you would be more comfortable with Sabian now?"

"As long as all you want is his brain." I observed, to which she rolled her eyes in fake exasperation.

"As if...he's just a friend, and he's desperately in love with his wife from what I can tell...."

"That may be, but he's also desperately obsessed with you. Don't deny it, it's clear as day. I just don't want things to turn sour." I stood, fully dressed and she rose up on her knees, letting the sheet fall from her. I was suddenly hating the clothes separating my skin from hers.

"No sour, only sweet." She smiled, but then seemed to suddenly recall something. She jumped off the bed and pulled the towel she had dropped on the floor to her chest as she rushed past me and to the front. "Wait before you go, I have something for you." She pulled a blank envelope from the desktop and presented it to me proudly.

"A key." I observed.

"To the apartment, so you don't have to wait for me to be here. So I can come home and be surprised to see you here..." Her face suddenly fell. "I hope that isn't a no no. No pressure I mean. It isn't even my apartment really. I just..." I could help but grin at the sudden nervousness in her voice. The horror of the thought of having pushed my boundaries. I broke off her string of nervous conversation by kissing her, and she returned the gesture.

I reluctantly left her, headed to my place to pick up my car, then to the office.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the averting eyes of Gary, the office admin. He slunk into the back filing room as I approached the front desk. A few lingered gazes hit me with a smirk or two in tow. Seemed that the gossiping grandma's in the office had been running riot while I was gone. I put my game face on and headed back to my desk.

As I shifted through the ever growing pile of paperwork that was increasing exponentially to my absence I couldn't help but wonder how me not being at work seemed to actually generate more work for me.

I looked over the computer screen at Tan and Peters, shooting me amused tongue-in-cheek fleeting looks. Eventually I had enough, but even as I opened my mouth to chastise their lack of professional attitude, my boss' booming voice greeted me. "Knott! Finally." I turned to face him and was relieved at the jovial attitude.

"Hey boss." I replied tearing my attention from the two delinquents at the back.

"Come." He announced and demanded, which translated to 'please join me in my office'. I followed as directed of course and took the routine chair on the opposite side to his.

"Good to see you here. I wasn't sure if you'd turn up."

"Any reason I wouldn't? Other than the office slander of course." I was testing his reserve just a touch, but he seemed in good enough a mood to take it.

"I hope you got her out of your system. " I refused to give any form of response. "Did you?" Now he was testing me.

"How is the case looking." I deflected.

"You'll have to ask Tan and Peters." My jaw ticked.

"Whatever. That's not why I was here anyway. Where's the new guy?" I had learned enough in those few short words between us to know there would be no letting up, no approval. If I was lucky a transfer might work out. That might be the solution for everyone, if that's what I wanted. Fuck it! I liked her, what did it matter to everyone else. It wasn't any secret that Tan had a string of violent allegations behind him. Barker had more than one DUI to explain. So what if I was dating a suspect/victim. Time, I decided, would be my friend.

The orientation meet and greet went well, my partner blissfully unaware of the crap load of baggage I was handing him. Just after the introductions and preliminary jokes and banter, Klink caught my attention. I followed her beckoning discretely.

"You're a long way from the yellow brick road." I remarked.

"I was finishing off a briefing for court on Monday, thought I would see vat you found out."  
"Found out?"

"They took ze body, but I don't know vere." She added.

"I've been away. Someone took the body." I repeated.

"Ya, bunch of suits with a containment crew. Said there were chemical substances and risks, but there vere none – like I don't know vat I am doing." She laughed as though the thought were ridiculous. I was half relieved the gossip hadn't made it to the other levels, and half chilled by the thought someone had actually come to clean up. Maybe the next step was knocking on Rachael's door. I had been unaware Klink was still talking.

"...Anyway, I see you next week when you know more." She winked her good eye at me. "You keep me in the know, ya." She tapped her nose like a secret code and I had to keep from grinning. She was a character.

"Sure Klink." I assured as though I had any idea about what had happened.

I stole a long glance at my new partner when Klink left. He seemed so keen, so on board, so eager. I new recruit from the blue zone. I used to be that. I really didn't miss it. After thinking hard, I decided that warning him wasn't what I wanted to do. The less I played my indiscretion the better. Let him come to his own conclusions, and I would just get my head back in the game fresh on Monday, and Rachael and I would work out the rest out of the limelight. This case would blow over, close cold and we could move on without incident.

I wondered as I walked over to join the others how long it had taen her to call Sabian after I had left.

#  Chapter 13: Rachael

About thirty seconds after Sam left to go back to his first day back to work, I called Sabian. I really wanted the chance to go over the information he had, given we hadn't had much of a chance before my incident at the park. The way Sam had been hovering was wigging me out as well. I was feeling claustrophobic. Sabian took me up to his holiday place, the one he was thinking of moving into. It was wood paneled luxury by the sea. Mainly he talked and I listened. I appreciated the depth of what he was looking into, but in spite of the fact something truly profound, and not at all normal was happening, I couldn't shake the feeling Sabian was getting carried away. Over time, and the more that happened though, I had to admit he was making a more convincing argument.

After the tour, we ate lunch hanging our legs off a nearby pier, and I loved spending time with him in total acceptance. There were no worried looks from him, no sexual undertones – just two friends talking about the insane.

As we drove back along the highway, he pulled up to an old farmhouse that was slowly letting time catch up with it. A large barn was the key marker from the road, but the place was deserted, and secluded. Sabian grinned and switched off the engine.

"Want to see a scary part of my past?" The way he spoke intrigued me.

"Absolutely." I bantered, alighting from the car and following him over a broken fence line and into overgrown grass. I breathed in the warm breeze that swayed the grass, and felt for solid ground underneath my feet. "So what is this place?" I asked eventually.

Sabian, who was slightly ahead of me and pointed towards the barn looked back smiling like a big kid. "I used to come here when I was younger. My aunt and uncle owned this place until they were bought out by some developer – but the area never took off for housing. At least not yet." He explained. "But I used to love coming out here. I was brought up in the city, but my father was brought up in the country – he always tried to hit home how important peace and quiet were, natural things. We used to cut loose."

I snickered. "The great Sabian Pict, master of negotiations and business dealings cutting loose as a child. I can just imagine." I caught up with him as the ground cleared around the barn. I looked up at the enormous structure.

"I used to play in here with my two cousins. We used to scare the crap out of each other with ghost stories, hide in the barn and jump out when the other wasn't expecting." There was a tone of excitement in his voice.

"Sounds like you loved it." I said to him.

"Every second. Evan, was my oldest cousin. He used to tell us there was a demon living here but he controlled it, and if we ever touched his stuff he would set it on us." I made a disbelieving sound and Sabian looked back at me.

"Sure, you laugh," He continued on, "But when you're eight, you don't take chances like that."

"So it worked!" I exclaimed delighted and surprised. I imagined Sabian as a young child hiding under a blanket around a campfire as his older cousins played with him.

"You kidding, he had a whole back story and everything. He even had this talisman, or something anyway. He used to take it out and brandish it, because he said when you curry the favour of a demon, evil spirit, or whatever it was that week, or if they owe you a debt, they will sometimes provide you with a token which can be used to call on them for a wish. That's what he said it was, a wish token that he could use whenever he wanted to trade it for wealth, changing memories, fame..... the usual gambit..... or even to call them back into this world to execute an activity for you."

"Such as punish someone who messes with your things." I added.

"Exactly!" He confirmed.

"Well this explains a lot." I said looking him over like I had just figured it all out.

"What do you mean?" He asked stunned.

"Why you are so willing to take the leap of faith into the supernatural. You were brought up with it." He smiled a quickly fading smile and stared at the ground.

"Why are we here?" I asked, because I had a feeling Sabian was revisiting this part of him for a reason.

"I had a dream I was here searching through the hay. I found Evan's token." He smiled again, but it was strained and he looked off in to the distance before he revealed why he was having so much trouble. "Natasha left me." He said bluntly, breathing in deep and facing me once again.

"I'm sorry." I extended.

"Not as sorry as I am. She thinks this sort of thing is.... Well, she doesn't buy into it."

"You found the token, got her to come back to you." I sympathised.

"The desperate solutions of a child." He added on.

"You could have told me" He shrugged at my words. "I understand though. Not wanting to tell everyone everything that's going on". Looking at him I knew I could trust him implicitly. He helped me hide dead bodies – literally for heaven sake. "Sabian. I've been having dreams too." I breathed. "The door I saw when we were with Armada. I'm seeing it, and...I think something is coming for me. I also think you are the only one clear headed enough to guide me through this. I am sorry about Natasha, but I am really glad you are who you are or I would be lost."

Sabian came over and hugged me. "It might surprise you." He spoke as he held me tight. "But I really needed you to come along too." With that he straightened up and looked brighter already, a firm determination on his face. "If you want, I can call Armada again, organise a visit tomorrow."

"That sounds good." I said, but I already knew I was going to be going without him.

We walked back to the car, and talked about lighter things all the way back to the apartment, and I left Sabian thinking I was going to be seeing him the next day to visit Armada. But the first thing I did was take out the phone I had lifted from Sabian's car, and dial Armada's number.

***

"How did you ever get in to all of this?" I queried Armada as he lit taper candles that littered the circumference of the room. They highlighted the table in the corner I had sat at the other night, which now had only two chairs resting, waiting for us. A sudden shiver and sense of apprehension struck me. I was standing now in the middle of his shop floor, and he had just locked the door behind us to offer privacy. I had arrived just as he had.

"I like to think the strange and supernatural finds me." He replied jokingly. "Speaking of Rachel, I was worried I might miss you, I was running later than I expected."

I wasn't sure what to make of that. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important."

"Just an old friend and I passing by in the street. No trouble." Armada dismissed.

"Thank you for seeing me. I know it's late but since the last time I saw you I have been dreaming.....something different." I explained to him.

"What are you dreaming now Rachel?" He pushed as he descended the small step he was using to light the candles.

"It's strange. So different...." I started but wasn't sure if I should share everything.

"What's different?" He cocked his head to the side and I thought if I wasn't honest, I probably would be picked up on it by him, or at least not get the most out of my time with him.

"I'm inside a room. It's dark and I can see the door."

"The same as the one you saw here last time." He stated clarifying the circumstance.

"Yes, wood, thick, old. I feel like there is something behind it. Something I need to see." I presented.

"Does it have a handle? A lock?" But when he asked me, I couldn't get a firm image in my minds eye.

"I can't remember. That's why I'm here. I think last time you put me under it shook something out from my subconscious. I want.....I need to see more." He nodded when I said this and turned to continue his business for a moment before asking anything further.

"You didn't bring Sabian this time."

I paused, not sure how to explain. "Sabian has ideas about me, why I am here and what happened. I just don't want him hanging over me, waiting, interpreting things for me." The words stung as I said them. I felt it was a betrayal of a kind, my being here, saying that. "I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but I just want it...."

"...to be quiet."

"Exactly." I sighed relieved he was taking what I was saying on board.

Armada took my hands. "My dear, this, I can do for you."

I started to nervously fish around in my bag. "I brought money. I don't know if it's enough."

"Keep your money." He stopped me. "I don't need your money. I want to help. I feel like you have so much to offer Rachel. So much potential if we can just get to the bottom of what is happening for you. Let's just see if we can do this. Shall we begin?"

"Potential for what?" I moved over and took a seat at the table waiting for his answer.

"Well, that remains to be seen." He took a seat across from me. "Take my hand." He offered me his left hand, and held out the clear crystal for me to take in my other. I took it and squeezed, beginning the breathing he showed me. He gave an approving turn of his lips and closed his eyes. "Let your mind blank and breathe slowly. Slowly in and out. That's it. Let the tension release. Close your eyes when you are ready and tell me what you see." I immediately obeyed his instruction.

"I see the door." I said immediately.

"Tell me about the door." I heard Armada's voice.

"Like I said. It's thick, dark wood, it smells musty."

"What is the rest of the room like?" He inquired.

"There is no rest of the room. Only darkness and the door."

"Where is the light coming from. The light that lets you see the door." Armada qualified sensing my confusion.

"I.... don't know...somewhere away from me. It's very dim."

"Is there light coming from behind the door?"

"No. No it's very dark. Darker than the room."

"Is there a handle to the door?"

"Yes. Round, but I don't want to touch it." I felt a tension and excitement take me simultaneously.

"Why not? What will happen if you touch it Rachel?"

"I don't know. I don't like it. There's something wrong." I tensed further.

"Take a breath. Relax. You are right here with me. Breathe, slow things down. There isn't anything to worry about. You don't have to touch the door." Armada's encouragement brought me back into a sense of security. I really wanted to open that door, tonight. Right now.

"Ok. But I want to." I admitted.

"Not yet. Give yourself a moment." Something growled inside me when he tried to delay me.

"I need to open it." I sounded more demanding than I wanted to.

"Then why do you fear it?"

"There is something inside it."

"You mean behind the door?"

I felt a rise in confidence and my body tingled. "It's a place I've been keeping things."

"What things?"

My heart rate dropped and my breathing stabilised. "Things, parts of myself."

I felt Armada nod. "Yes Rachel. You are blocking off parts of yourself. If you put them in there, you can take them out again. You can control it. Is there a lock on the door."

"No lock. Don't need it."

"You are just waiting to open it then." Even as he spoke I became suddenly aware of a sound.

"Shh." I commanded him.

"What is it?" He whispered.

"Can you hear that?" I turned my hand with the crystal to face downwards and rest on the table.

"No. What can you hear?" He probed again.

"Scratching." I felt myself mirror the scratching with my hand on the table, almost like a cat kneading its paws. The crystal fell to the table as I used my nails against the surface. I then felt Armada's fingers become tense in my other hand.

With his voice tinted with emerging anxiety Armada asked me to be clearer. "What type of scratching?"

"Scratching at the door."

"What is it, scratching at the door?" But _scratch, scratch_...was all I could focus on. "Rachel, don't get lost on me. What's scratching at the door?"

I gasped involuntarily "I can see it."

"What?"

"Through the crack under the door."

"What do you see?"

"It's a hand." I felt a joyous rush, though was sure that wasn't what I was supposed to feel.

"A hand? Whose hand?"

"Scratching, trying to get out." I mumbled and smiled.

"Whose hand is it?"

"I don't want to say...." My voice sounded different.

"Rachel. What does it look like?"

"Dead. It looks dead and gray with red nails. It's reaching..."

Armada was trying to let my other hand go completely now, but I dug into it. "Whose hand is it? Is it someone you know?"

"I think it is you Rachel. Part of you that you locked away."

I nodded before adding to the image. "There's dirt all over it."

Armada was almost free of my hold. "Anything else?" He asked trying to sound calm, but I could tell otherwise.

"I can see the second hand. Scratching under the door. Making space in the dirt."

"For what?"

"Space to get out."

"Not until you're ready Rachel." He comforted, but I flinched at that I saw next. "What is it now?"

"The picture on the finger."

"There's a picture?"

"A tattoo."

"Of...?" He audibly gulped and part of me deep inside laughed at his childish fear. He claimed to know so much. Shouldn't he have seen this as well.

"Three Triangles, all linked together."

"A Valknot." I sensed his whole body stiffen, and hear an absence of his breathing.

"I can only just see the second hand." I continued, but he didn't want to let me.

"Let it go back Rachel. We are going to have to come back to the here and now. Come back, away from the door and let's explore this together."

"I can't. I have to open it."

"Don't open the door Rachel. You were scared and worried to before. Don't open the door until you're ready. And that time is not now." His hand broke free from mine finally, but without opening my eyes, I slammed my hand back on the table, trapping his arm in my grasp.

"It's alright. I can do it." I enthused.

"No Rachel. Don't open the door. I don't think what's inside is what you think it is."

"It's answers. All my answers."

"Rachel. Stop!" But my mind was already extending my arm to grasp the handly, already turning it.

"Let me go." He ordered. I ignored him of course. "No. Stop." I heard him pleading.

I felt the handle, solid in my hand. Felt like coming home. I finished turning the handle, threw open the door and waited.

For a moment there was nothing but black nothingness.

I held my breath until – bam, it flew straight at me ,black eyes and gray skin....looking like a cross between me and the thing I had seen in the mirror. It was angry, screeching.

Gasping, I held my hands out to defend myself, but it wasn't possible. The thing stuck behind the door, latched on to me, bit into me and then there was nothing. No pain, a feeling of wholeness. I closed my eyes and let her take me, drain me. I was being re-awakened.

There was a knock on the door and my eyes opened.

The look on Armada's face said it all. In almost slow motion I saw him open his mouth to yell at whoever was at the door. Call for help? I don't think so. One hand of mine flew to his mouth, the other behind his head, and without exerting too much effort at all, I broke his neck. I gently let him slide to the floor as I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Armada." Sabian! "I lost my phone, are you in? I need to talk to you." The door rattled and I hunched with the still warm body of Armada in my arms watching. Although I held my breath, it wasn't from fear, just so I could hear properly. Fear was something I never relished and had hated feeling through Rachael. Disgusting, useless habit. I knew what would happen if he saw me. Sabian was going to have to die. A shame really, as far as followers went, he was perfect. Loaded, trusting, just disturbed enough to lead where I needed him to go.

After a few minutes he left, and I perched myself on both heels, letting Armada's head wobble in my lap. I let him slump to the floor and closed his eyes. Half walkers. That's what I called people who had some idea of the darkness around them, but didn't really know what they were doing.

I rose to my feet and took a look at myself. I was pissed. This body was hungry, dressed in some satin blue number and pretty ballet flats. Well, I knew what I was taking care of first, at least after I burned the place to the ground.

I set the place ablaze, and took off down an alley, stretching the muscles I hadn't had a chance to exercise in what felt to be forever. I wasn't used to taking a back seat. Damned Uther. I was so close to grabbing Jonah and taking him to the safe house when he turned up in that stupid cliché white van and taken the boy. I could have taken him out too if it hadn't been for the others tracking me.

That was one of the downfalls of being corporeal, anytime I exerted my strengths they could see me. Any other time, I drifted like any of the mortals or half walkers. I was able to track down the gifted humans who had something to offer us in the future – the ones actually in danger anyway. Every once in a while parents would realise what they had on their hands. Bless ADD and ODD – it was letting lots of them get away with murder. That, poor social standards and a failing justice system. I loved living in this time. Better than any of the others I had experienced over the last few thousand years. Much more liberating. I smiled to myself. Once this job was done, I had the pick of them for my service over time. My smile faded. I would have been done and living it up somewhere warm by now if I hadn't become temporarily – displaced - by Uther.

Uther drugged me, exorcised my mind, but succeeded only in trapping it. The body I had taken had fought back well, acted on instinct. At least she didn't remember me. After 40 odd years of working her body as mine, I guess very little than automatic remained.

I got back to the apartment, and ate anything vaguely meat related in the fridge. Fuck I was hungry. What had she been doing to me?!

A scent grabbed me and I followed it to the couch. Sam's jacket. I picked it up and inhaled. I suppose he would do. If his jacket was here, that must mean he was here.

I dropped the jacket back down and ventured to the bedroom. There he lay bare chested in the moonlight, the sheet barely covering him. Maybe there was time to play before I drained him and changed my clothes into something dark and more befitting me. He stirred.

"Rachael?" he asked after my silhouette.

"Yes baby. It's me." I tried to soften my voice into something more meek. I sauntered over to the bed and traced my fingers down the line of his body.

"I let myself in and saw your note. Everything OK?"

"Just perfect." I purred and climbed on top of him. He seemed surprised, but certainly happy to see me, to feel me.

I definitely had time to play, then I could get on task. I needed two things to get through the job though, and keep myself safe and sound. To restore my strength and power I needed warm blood to bathe and drink, and I had to get that box....

#  Chapter 14: Sabian

I had tried to contact Rachael _and Sam_ from my home phone all morning. Once I had torn the car apart Saturday afternoon after dropping Rachael off I had realised that it was a lost cause. I had rung myself, pulled up seats, searched every crevasse, and decided to call it. My phone along with any and all contacts were gone. After calling the phone company and ordering a replacement (even I wasn't going to bother my PA on a Saturday for something I was quite capable of doing myself), I called information and asked for the Book and Candle. I jotted down Armada's number and called him. There had been no answer, which was unusual for him, given he lived and worked in the same place and rarely strayed too far. After the third attempt, I had gone down to pay him a visit, try and sure up a time for us, Rachael and I, to have a session the next day.

I had peered through the cracks of the curtains shielding the inside view from the outside street, but hadn't seen more than a couple of candles flitting inside. It was strange I thought to myself, that he would leave candles burning unattended, but then it wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing. Besides, once he didn't answer to my knocking, it occurred to me that maybe he was busy entertaining. The man had to have a separate social life, surely.

I had reluctantly removed myself from his front door, deciding that the morning might be a better time to pick up where my harassment was ending tonight, and I didn't want to push to hard and come up against resistance.

That brought me to this morning. I willed the clock to tick over to 8:00, that was late enough to call, and found his number on the scrap of paper by the phone again. Before I managed to dial however, the phone rang in my hand. The Art dealer.

"Monsignor Pict." The heavy accented voice announced. "I have news."

"Good, any news is good right now." I said relieved.

"I would say so - it is a rare artefact. I am happy to offer you $200,000 right now."

"No, I'm not interested in selling. What is it?"

"A containment box, designed around the year 900AD to hold specific spirits and entities safe and sound. One jab to the back of the neck of a possessed person with the Stiletto, and the spirit would be sucked into the box, leaving a soulless, and lifeless corpse behind." Just like that. I had a new churning in my gut, one that hadn't been there before. I leaned against the wall wearing a confused look on my brow. "How about $300,000, not for sale, I would like to keep it." Came the new offer.

"No. I need it back." I said clearly. "Thank you for calling."

"A pleasure, very much. I send the box back to you today by courier...If you change your mind you have my number." He added before hanging up the phone.

I had a renewed urgency to contact Armada now. To speak with Rachael and Sam, but not a moment after I hung up from the call with the dealer, the phone rang in my hand again. The police this time. They had taken my number, along with several others, from the telephone service of the last people who contacted Armada – before he died. I sat rapidly as though weighed down at the news. They wanted to speak with me, have me come down to the station and give a statement. I agreed, in a haze, and followed the instruction without question. Selfishly I thought to myself, I was sorry for him, but more so for the fact I felt we had lost a legitimate link to Rachael being able to make headway in understanding what was going on for her.

At the police station, I admitted having visited him in an occult/physic fashion, paying for services (all true) and that I had been calling trying to set up an appointment. The officer interviewing me knew my name from the other recent case file Sam had been allocated from the break and enter, and explained another detective was in charge. I neither confirmed nor denied, just complied, gave my statement and left as soon as possible. There was another lady in a bright purple dress with a rat type thing they were calling dogs lately shivering in her carry bag as she wept onto an officer's begrudgingly supplied shoulder. Another, small weedy white teen with multiple piercing and a black attitude to match the black leather, and yet another older skinny man with a balding head and glasses. All were explaining their relationship to 'the deceased' as he now came to be known – beloved physic, esoteric book supplier (and all round cool dude), and magic herb supplier for true love and hair restoration. Seemed Armada was a man of many talents. Before leaving I asked what exactly had happened, and the obliging officer explained that, while it appeared the place had caught alight from a fallen candle I shuddered. I had been knocking on the door, peering through at the flickering candles only a few hours earlier. Maybe I should have knocked harder.

The officer went on to explain there were circumstances they were exploring however that may indicate that something else had happened, however at this time, they were not supplying additional information. There was another wail from the woman with the dog and the dog shot me a look I could only imagine mirrored my own 'this woman is ridiculous' look.

The first place I went of course was the apartment Rachael was in, but when I knocked there was no answer. Damn it. She and Sam were probably off gallivanting in another park somewhere while I was trying to focus on serious issues. I left to have lunch, and called to leave another message, not that I was even sure she was checking messages. Finally I got a call back.

"Rachael." I sighed relieved to hear her voice on the other end of the phone. "I was getting worried."

"Don't worry – all's good." She said in a sing song voice. "What's new Sabian, when am I going to see you again?"

"I can come over now." I responded immediately

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right this second." Rachael hesitated. "Tomorrow?"

"Rachael." I started serious. She sounded so happy, at a time when things were going horribly wrong. I had to let her know in case there had been foul play. Maybe she had been tracked to Armada's and someone had killed him for the association. That meant they might be closer than we thought and able to track her in ways other than when she expended energy in fighting or...stopping cars, and anything else she might be able to do we weren't yet aware of. "Rachael" I repeated. "Armada's dead. I think someone killed him."

There was silence for a moment. "What makes you think that?" Odd question to ask.

"The police interviewed me."

"What happened?"

"I don't know much, just they are looking at it as suspicious, the place was burned."

"That's terrible." Rachael mused. She must be processing it. "Come around in the morning, and we can talk about it."

A stunned silence had reached me when she brushed me off and I heard the click of the phone. Maybe it was too much to register for her. I knew it bothered the hell out of me. Regardless, I settled into another night of rich scotch and second rate TV. The Last Exorcist was showing on 'On Demand' TV and I let my mind be distracted by the gore and dark lighting as I sat there trying not to complicate my thoughts further. Maybe that wasn't the best choice of things to watch. I fell asleep, right there on the couch, a slumber I was grateful for even if my neck hurt like hell when I woke up.

Swiftly, I dressed in jeans and a long sleeved polo, ready to meet with Rachael and try and get to the bottom of some of this mess, and at the very least, make a new plan of how we were going to move forward.

Almost as soon as I knocked she opened the door for me, though remained partially obscured by the door, I barely noticed as I strode straight in, eager to get on with the conversation and see what she had decided to do next.

"Rachael. I was worried." I said spinning around to face her. I was left open mouthed at what I saw. Standing in the place of my usually quiet demeanoured Rachael, stood a different looking Amazon-esque woman. Rachael was wearing tight black pants, lace up black boots with a heel that made her almost tower over me, and her hair was slicked back slightly against her skull causing the ends to flick out in a way the ebony strands managed to frame her neck and pale face perfectly. Her blood red shirt neckline draped so low that it almost caused me to look away for a moment – as if I could.

"What are you wearing?" I managed to fumble trying not to sound too shocked or accusatory.

"I needed a change." Rachael dismissed and walked towards me. "Let me help you out Sabian" She started talking again and pulled on the jacket I was wearing until it complied and fell off. She sauntered over to the rack and hung it casually as I was left frozen, watching her curves rock as she moved. "Sit down," She asked of me. "and then we can talk properly."

I continued to monitor her movements as she came over and lounged, feet up on the white material, looking more like a satisfied cat than the usual person I knew. Her movements were more fluid, her expressions more focused, and her attitude so much more confident.

"Are....are you alright Rachael.....You seem different." I waited for her response, but all she did was lean towards me and wink.

"I had a great weekend." Rachael replied, but my uneasiness grew.

"So glad someone did. I was worried, after Armada died....I didn't know where to begin next."

"Well, I think I had a revelation." She offered. "I think the answers we need are in that box you took. Where is it Sabian? Where is the box?"

"I sent it to a specialist." A nerve ticked under her eye. Her expression turned to something else just for a millisecond. I looked around suddenly aware Sam wasn't with us. I had expected him to want to talk over the next thing to do, the next avenue to take. I had welcomed the opportunity to have someone else in on all of this, especially a detective. That could have been useful. "Hey, where's Sam?"

Rachael remained unmoving. "At work, why? You miss him already? I thought you didn't quite like him...hanging around me.?" She played with her collar now.

"Work." I mused.

"I hear some people are in to it." She said snidely.

I smirked, relaxing. I had been so on edge for so long, clearly I was letting it get the best of me, a change of outfit, a new hairstyle and a confident attitude was all it had taken to shake me. Ridiculous. "I thought he would want to know." I said easing back into my seat.

She got up and walked the short step to sit next to me. "That's nice of you." She smiled pleasantly enough and repositioned herself to perch on her knees towering a little over the top of me. "I am really glad you two are getting along."

"Now he knows, understands....that's all I needed to..." I trailed off as she leaned forward and kissed my forehead slowly. I looked up as she knelt back down.

"You are a real gem Sabian."

"A gem." I repeated. I hadn't heard anyone say that since my mother.

"Yep. So I need to be honest, because, Sam's great and all, but you.....well, you I trust Sabian."

"OK."

"So I have to tell you that I'm sorry. I lied to you." I explored her face looking for a clue as to what she might say next. She gave a look of dramatic unease, and I grew nervous again. "I have been having flashes since we saw Armada the other night."

"Really – of what?"

"When I got this ring," She twisted it on her finger. "My friend saying to me she bought it just for me, to remind me who I was now and would forever be." She sat back further on her haunches. "I also remember Uther, tying me to a chair while he kept poor Jonah in a glass cage. I remember Uther holding that box I need."

"Why do you think he had it?" I asked.

"I think he thought he could kill me. I think if I hold it again, I'll know. Where is it and we can go get it, together." She urged me.

"But what do you think the box does?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." The way she said it chilled me. So sickly sweet. Bile rose in my throat and every ounce of me burned to tell her that I already new, but I had that feeling again. The feeling that something was horribly wrong here. "So Where is it." She pressed again.

"An Art dealer on Smith Street. He specialises in things of occult value. I thought he might be able to give us a little more history."

"Excellent idea." She smiled and I fought the urge to feel pleasure at her response, to fold and tell her more. "We can go there now if you want." I was testing her. "Maybe we should ask Sam to come as well." She stiffened.

"I thought it would just be you and I Sab." I tensed at her use of my name that way. It made my blood pound out of habit.

"OK." Shit. I have to call Sam right now.

"But first, I have some girly stuff you attend to – you know. Then maybe we could meet up and have lunch before we go." I didn't believe her, not even for a second, but I played anyway and smiled just as sweetly back at her.

"The Loft Café. Say midday?" I stood as she nodded in agreement. "Great," I breathed and turned to leave. And I couldn't get out fast enough. As I reached for the handle though, she stepped in front of me, her hip knocking my hand out of the way.

"Sabian." She said looking up at me with deep dark eyes. Her pupils were almost completely blended with her irises.

"Yes Rachael." I said with great effort to keep my voice steady and firm.

"I love you like family you know." My breathing was heavier, but I fought to control it.

"Rachael." She put her hands up to my face.

"Just don't hurt me OK?" She asked. I was confused. Here she was again. Sweet Rachael. I nodded dumbly. Lifting her chin, she kissed my cheek then moved out of the doorway. I opened the door and moved through the doorway and heard her call from behind me: "See you in a couple of hours."

I turned on my heel but kept walking. "See you there." I affirmed before resuming my step. I had to speak with Sam. Now.

When I reached the ground floor I had already dialed his number. No answer. I called the station he worked from. The man on reception Gary-something told me that he wasn't able to tell me if Sam was there, and asked me to leave a message. I snapped my new handset shut swearing. Getting into my car, I was resolute. I had to find out where he was. That would make my mind up – if he was fine, I was overreacting; if he wasn't....

I went to the station. After demanding to see him and being told to sit and wait and see, I was twitching my leg up and down in anticipation in no time. Finally, someone came out, ushered me in to a room and my heart slowed in a new kind of anticipation.

The door opened behind me and I didn't look around. I didn't want the bad news.

"What are you doing here!" Sam's voice. He was horrified and angry at me, but he was alive. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"You would be surprised, but I am so glad you're here. I thought I had been completely wrong." I debriefed. "Sam – I think something might be wrong though."

"What do you mean? I can't talk now, I'm in the middle of something."

"Working."

"Sounds surprising Sabian, but yes.....working – or trying to at least. What did you think?"

"Where have you been?" I pressed. "I wouldn't have come if you had answered your phone."

Sam shook his head. "Are you kidding? What are you my mother all of a sudden? I'm busy – get out, call me later about whatever it is."

"But..." I protested.

"Some of us have to keep up the rest of their life Sabian. Go home, chill out and I'll call you when I get off shift." With a flurry of frustration, Sam left the room, and the door open for me to leave by.

***

I went to the café half an hour early and started pacing out the front. When I started getting glances I took a table inside with my back to the TV hanging behind the counter, and facing the window so I could spot her as she approached. By 12:30 I had already had 3 cups of coffee and ordered wedges. Rachael was a no show. By the time the 1:00 O'clock news update was on, I was paying my bill and readying to leave when the news story caught my attention.

"A school ablaze, with no known causalities, but one missing boy, a child recently caught up in two other recent tragedies. A witness reported seeing the boy leave with a woman clad in black leather, in a blue convertible, however further details remain unsubstantiated. The small community say the town has been rocked with disaster over the last year." I sat roughly back in the seat closest to me.

"In another story, a brutal killing in the inner city of an art dealer had caused antique stores everywhere to shut their doors while the search is being carried out for another woman, seen in this image from street CCTV. It appears the woman tortured the individual in question and ransacked his showroom searching for something, however if anything has been taken is as yet unconfirmed. The dealer in question has ties to the occult scene, and it has been revealed, has experienced a number of difficulties in the past with customers". My breath seized in my chest and goosebumps broke out across my body. "And on to the weather with Terrance Fischer...."

I called Sam in almost a disassociated state. I could imagine him looking at his caller ID swearing under his breath at my persistence. "Sam. Call me straight away. Don't go to Rachael's please. Just call me as soon as you get this message."

Even though I knew she wouldn't be there, I went by the apartment. She wasn't there. No sign. I sat down defeated and turned on the news. My phone rang. Natasha.

"Hey." I answered as I watched images from Jonah's local school being doused by fire-fighters. Then police tape and an ambulance carting away the body of the dealer to the morgue.

"Sab. I'm just packing everything up. I need you to come pick up your personal things. I sent everything else with the removalist." She was trying not to show it in her voice, but she was crying. I greeted her with silence. "Sab." Se said more urgently. "Sabian!" I hung up. I couldn't deal with it all right now. I had made an awful mistake. And people had been killed. A school burned to the ground, a dealer dead, my marriage broken....and my purpose lost in amongst it all. What was I going to do next. That's when I saw the note. _Thanks for everything. Come to the barn_.

So I left for the barn.

#  Chapter 15. Sam

I had reluctantly left Rachael sleeping in the bed as I finally made it home to gather fresh clothes. I had meant to make it back home all weekend, but hadn't quite got there, and really, hadn't needed clothes until now. I felt self satisfied and adamant that my relationship with Rachael was going to work. I just needed to mind my p's and q's around work mates, get back into work in a big way, and just move through the motions.

Day one, I was desk bound while my partner organised access on his desktop, flirted with the trainee office assistant over biros and took a tour with Tan for the second time. I tried not to show my ire, but I was looking forward to getting back out on the road. Peters had called in sick, so Tan was overcompensating by romancing my partner down the corridors. I smiled to myself. Whatever the damage, it didn't matter. I had just had the best weekend of my life, and was going back for more as soon as I could clock off.

While I was left to my own devices, I finished off leftover paperwork that was more than outstanding. On the corner of Tan's desk I saw the case file, Rachael's case file, still with James' handwriting on the front. I casually looked about me, and everyone was busy, distracted. I slowly got up and manoeuvred over to the desk and flipped over the front cover. There were pictures of the corpse, and some notes, but I couldn't make out Tan's handwriting. Gary suddenly appeared two desks away, giving me a sideways glance as he pulled out a manila envelope and placed a stamped form at the front.

Abandoning my clear attempt to cross lines in record time, I returned to my desk to find missed calls from Sabian. I rolled my eyes and put the phone in the drawer, closing it with a clear conscience. Not today.

By 11:00 we had nearly completed what felt like the world's longest briefing when Gary pulled me away early because of a visitor. Sabian. It had taken all my concentration not to physically pick him up and throw him through the door disturbing me at work, on my first day with his shit. And insinuating something was wrong with Rachael. Just because she and I had disengaged form him for the weekend. A couple of days locked away together and away from him must have thrown him into a tailspin. _Oh well, sucks to be him_. I thought to myself.

I had shuffled back in to the briefing as they announced a cold case coming my way – our way, a stream of statements that needed to be processed and the 'on-call' from 8:00 tomorrow.

My partner finally found me sitting with my head in a typed statement I was prepping for court and asked where he could find a decent burger. I happily left everything as it was and decided lunch and a little bonding time was in order.

As we exited the building and I pulled on my coat, I directed us to the Corner Spot, a place with one of the best Cappuccinos, and one I visited at least three times a week.

He had brought a deep red portfolio with him, with a manila folder sticking out around the edges. I had been curious, but ignored it, until half way though lunch, after he had hoovered back a double cheese burger and half a basket of fries, he leaned back, tossing the manila folder in front of me.

I left the rest of my meal and wiped my hands before picking it up. On opening it, there were copies of the records and notes on the body. The same ones I had tried to take note of on Tan's desk. I gave the man across from me a quizzical look. He shrugged as if my unasked question need not be voiced. I poured over the documents, but really there wasn't much I didn't already know other than notes taken from the 'special operations' officers who had picked up the body from Klink the other day. A rare mineral compound was being blamed for making the body appear older than it was, and a picture of an old science crew standing outside a mine in the desert was included in the information. The photo looked circa 1960's. A man that definitely resembled the corpse was there, Uther Crane was the name on the back. The body had been confiscated for toxins stemming from exposure to the mine. Interesting, but hardly pulling together any of the puzzle. Sitting there in the café, everything I had seen a couple of days ago seemed so far away. The voice of my partner pulled me away from my thoughts.

"What's she like?" He asked.

"What, who?" I deflected.

"The girl people are talking about." He was smiling at my efforts now.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"The hot brunette, pale, lithe, killer body – literally." He must have paid close attention to the shift in the look on my face because his next efforts were to reassure me. "Don't worry, It's cool. I come from narc central. Not much I haven't seen."

OK now it was clear. He wanted something from me. "What's your deal?"

Pressing the tips of his fingers together, he gave a dismissive shrug. "Just looking out for my partner. Tan was very accommodating when I heard the body was taken and took a look at the file."

"You hear a lot of things..." I observed.

"That's my job really isn't it?"

"You've been busy too for a guy who only really started this morning." I wasn't hiding my suspicions, just in case this was going to end in blackmail or at the very least – leverage.

"This ain't my first rodeo." He jokingly remarked. "Besides, I don't do down time well."

"Hmmm." I reflected back as I paused to soak this guy in.

"Relax. I don't give a shit about your extra curriculars. Just don't make me look bad – that's all I ask." I finally did relax again. Things might be looking up after all.

When we got back, I checked my phone for missed calls. Sabian had called me _again_ even after I had told him to keep to himself. Un-Freaking- believable! That man was like a pit bull.

I finished up my statement and left early, knowing the rest of the week was going to be a push to make it home at a decent time after some of the other events of the day. It had been a big day. A fire and abduction in a small town, and a robbery downtown. I knew I would be looking after other jobs while the relative departments were tied up investigating those over the next couple of weeks. In all honesty, I had plans for the afternoon too, and they involved getting out of my clothes. Rachael had different plans though because she was waiting at the base of the apartment block as I pulled up.

Even before the car had really stopped she had skipped to me and opened the door, climbing in the passenger seat. She looked different somehow, a confidence in her walk and a surety in the way she looked at me. She wore a long red coat over high heeled boots. I found myself wondering what she wore underneath. As she sat beside me the coat dropped back revealing black leather pants. How curious I thought to myself. She never seemed to be the black leather type. That was probably what freaked Sabian, I thought, a change of outfit and he was reading so much more into everything. Still, she smiled and my mind drifted to more pleasant things than Sabian.

"Drive Sam, I thought we could go somewhere special."

I would follow her across the globe right now. I hung on her words and loved it. "Done, where am I taking us?"

"Just head towards the coast, along the freeway, I can guide us from there." Without another word about it, I revved the engine and took off. As dusk approached I pulled up at her direction on the side of a road at what looked to be a farm. Or it had been once upon a time. Now it just looked like a large barn like structure with a few fence palings barely holding old wire in place.

"We're here." Rachael sighed satisfied as I turned off the ignition. As she hopped out I followed more slowly. She seemed invigorated, her skin practically glowed in the setting sunlight, and she set out authoritatively past the fence line. I liked this new air of assurance she had, she seemed somehow different but in all the right ways. She waited impatiently for me to catch up to her.

"Come on" she called to me big green eyes reflecting back at me. When I reached her she grabbed me by the hand. "Come with me baby."

"To the barn?" I asked incredulously.

"Why not? You can show me yours, I'll show you mine...." With that she nipped my ear, kissed my neck and pulled at me more feverishly.

"Oww." I reacted to the bite. She let go of me and skipped ahead. "What's got in to you?" Rachael simply laughed and ran in to the barn. By the time I walked through the door, she was hiding.

I didn't like the look of the swaying corroded lamps that hung from the beams above, or the old rusted tools that lay on old straw. I thought I saw a rat at one stage.

"Come on Rach." I called in vain. "Come out. Games like this are ... I don't know but you know a barn doesn't make it in to the top ten places I want to take you on a date. Especially not one that's about to fall in on us." Still no answer so I took a few more steps in. "Rachael. I called again. I thought I saw something behind a half wall protruding out from the main structure.

As I walked deeper in, I noticed little else than the straw on the ground, farm equipment and tools. The floor itself seemed to be one huge concrete slab. As I walked I thought I saw markings underneath the straw and brushed strands away with my foot. There were markings that didn't look old, didn't look worn like everything else here. In fact, I knelt down to touch a part, and paint came off on to my fingers. Red paint? Brushing away more to reveal the entire image, there was a large pentagram with varying symbols embedded in it. Some of them Runic that I recognized from Sabian's many papers and books I had found strewn around Rachael's place.

"What the hell?" Was the last thing I said before I felt the hit to the back of my head.

***

I automatically jerked as I came to and realised that I was suspended in mid air by my feet. I could feel my arms tied behind my back, secured to my feet but tried to jerk them forward. As I breathed in deep, my ribs felt like they were going to explode, which stopped my moving immediately. I swung like a pendulum instead as I tried to focus. There she was. Rachael sat cross legged on the floor of a barn over by the door watching me.

"Good you're awake." She uttered coldly. Her face was grim and barren of that sweetness I had seen up until now. I roared in confusion and then tried to yell for help which caused me more pain. I swung hopelessly in the air. The weak looking beams above me were doing a stellar job staying intact.

"I was hoping you would wake by yourself. No offense, but you don't wake well without a cup of coffee. I'd offer you one, but well, it might be a little hard to drink from that angle." There was no humor, no taunt in her words, which panicked me more. Reason, I thought. Reason with her.

"We found out the parents were planning to kill him, knew what he was, and could be." She continued on. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear any long explanations. That usually meant you weren't going to live to repeat the information. Last confessionals were hardly what I hoped for. I tried to twist my hands free, get some movement in the knots tying my feet together.

Rachael rose to her feet and I tried to subdue my movements, watching her come closer like a prey fearing the next move of a predator. Her arms remained casually linked at her back, she could have been strolling through a park except for the black leather and sinful red shirt. "I intervened when they organized Uther to take Jonah. That's why the parents didn't come forward. They thought the police might have found out what they planned..... you know how mixed up these ultra religious goody -goody two shoes can get."

"Rachael. Let me go." I kept my pitch and tone even and calm.

Ignoring me, Rachael continued with her explanation. "I took him, and would have been away with him except for whenever I use my energy, my skills, they can track me. It's a real pain in my ass. Every time I re-appear on their radar, they come for me, one at a time, several at time. Sometimes they're stronger than others, but at least I have that on my side. I had years to take control of this body. They only have a few minutes a couple of hours if they are lucky, then as soon as I behave myself again....I disappear for them."

"Where's Jonah now?" Maybe asking questions would give me time to think, to act.

"Its all good now. You should have seen him though," Was that pride I heard colour her voice as she lowered herself to the ground near me, one arm coming down to the ground to support her. "He saw me pull up through the window of his classroom, and just like that he took action. Brought the matches out from his bag, lit the kids bags in the classroom and ran from the group to meet me while the smoke alarms were blazing. I didn't even have to do anything. By the time they noticed he left the group, we were so far away only one teacher came after us. It was too late anyway by then. We were in the car and gone. No one saw me coming, and after the parents were out of the way, well, lets just say I lost a little less sleep that night."

"Who are you?"

"It's not so much of a who...more of a what."

"Fine then. What the fuck are you?"

"I'm a wraith Sam. Just like Sabian picked up on, only he got his sides mixed up. Sabian thought I was a keeper, a guardian – and I am of sorts I suppose."

"What's so special about Jonah that they sent you?"

"Evil is bred, most of the time. Socialised into people, experiences pain them so that they protect themselves through pain and power, but true, honest to goodness evil, is only sometimes born into a vessel. It's rarer than we like, so it's our job to protect it, let it grown and nurture it so they can be all that they can be." She sounded like Rachael then, positive, encouraged, eager, nurturing...but she sure as hell wasn't.

"You're a demon." I remarked, checking myself, calling a spade a spade. Her face dropped back to grim again and she rose off the ground sounding bitter as she spoke.

"I resent the term, but I guess for all intents and purposes, I probably do fall into that category."

"Why did you pretend all that time? Why bother?"

"Oh no, I wasn't myself. I would never leech off others, play with affections or seem so weak. I let my guard down back when I tried to rescue Jonah the first time, and they caught me – us. Uther lost his head though, tried to wipe my head clean of who I am. 200 years old and he still didn't know how to dance. Poor Uther. That'll teach them to leave a relative novice in charge, and one who knew me. That was it you know, his undoing. He still remembered Rachael from before I took her. He met her through a friend in 1964."

"You took her body." I exclaimed out loud as though that was the most appalling item on the agenda. It was dark outside I noticed. Maybe someone would see the torches she lit. Maybe someone could hear us.

"Have to live somewhere. I need a body to stay here, and so I can do things easily on this side. It's actually quite hard to exert your influence without a physical form. I can do it, but it's kind of like a muscle you need to exercise.... First you move a curtain, then a cup, then a chair, then you can start to touch them."

"Them?"

"Humans. What? You never thought you felt a touch on your shoulder, a breath on your neck. A shadow that disappears just out of sight when you turn to catch it."

"Rachael was my personal favourite. I had just been re-assigned to the corporeal world, and when I first came here, I couldn't do anything, I was still so weak. When I saw her, her family, I thought she was perfect. I practiced very hard and eventually, I could touch her. It was a thing of beauty really, she suffered from sleep paralysis – the mind wakes, but the body stays locked in sleep. I waited next to her bed while she slept and when she woke I licked right down her arm, and showed myself to her – so she would know I was coming for her. She cried, as they all do in the end, but I think it's good business practice don't you – to be transparent in your intention. Scared the shit out of her. She tried not to sleep for nights after – but she had to eventually...." Rachael sighed and stared off nostalgically. "Seems like so long ago over a half a century!. Can't say I don't do wonders for her complexion." Rachael joked before wandering a few feet away.

"And is part of your transparency – telling me you're going to take my body?"

Rachael looked back over her shoulder at me. "Don't flatter yourself – you're fun and all, but I like my bodies a little more feminine. And I am quite attached to this one. But then so are you – aren't you?" She turned to face me fully, but kept her hands behind her. She was holding something I realized now.

"Is she still in there?"

"No. Maybe her neural pathways.... Her habits..... but she's been gone since I came along, so don't fool yourself sweetheart. It was all me, all the time. Well, maybe not all of me. But you have the whole package now...." She ventured forward again and I jerked back.

"Get away from me."

"'Fraid I cant do that. As much as it's been a blast, what Uther did to me, took a lot of my strength away. I need you to give it back to me."

"How am I supposed to do that?" A question I very much wished I hadn't asked. Rachael finally brought her hand out from behind her. A sharp blade glinted and I automatically struggled, though I knew it was useless. She approached closer as I thrashed, but eventually, breathing deep and losing hope, I stopped desperately searching with my eyes for something, anything, that could help me. She knelt next to me so her head was level with mine. "I know I could have done this before you woke, but like I said – I believe in being up front about what's going to happen. So here's the low down. I'm going to cut you, slow and shallow. When you bleed I'm going to take what I need."

"Do you think actually think you're going to get away with this. Everyone knows I was with you." I was panicking now, not even bothered with trying to control the fear pitching in my voice.

"Doesn't matter.... I know how to disappear. And really, I can find another body if I need to. Then, maybe another country, another life." She stood and grazed the knife against my back, and I felt blood trickle and mingle with my sweat. I jolted again in protest, in spite of the pain. Rachael picked up a small glass out of the pocket of the red coat she had worn. It was small, but then I guessed she would make the most of it. She brought it to me and I felt her press it against my skin.

"Sam. I want you to know, You are the closest I ever came to loving someone. That is huge where I come from. We don't just swing around statements like that." I felt her tongue glide across my back to catch a few drops of blood as they snaked their way down my skin.

I panicked further and started rambling to save my skin. "Don't do this then. Let me go. I don't know what you think you are. You're deluded. Sabian messed with your mind. You... Have to stop. Stop now Rachael. Please. We can get you help. It's not too late."

"This, what I am doing now.... you should feel honoured." With that she dug the knife in to my side, enough to tear skin, but not enough to kill me yet.

The cup pressed against my skin, and I felt woozy, nauseous. I saw through the bleariness something impossible. Rachael stood above the circle drawn in blood, and the markings I had seen earlier. Removing her skirt and shirt, she held the cup to her. I saw her drink my blood, smear it across her face, chest and belly, then feet, before she dropped to her knees and placed her palms to the ground. As she hunched over, the ground trembled. Light emitted from her hands, the earth cracked and she looked up at me, eyes glowing. I knew then I was dying.

#  Chapter 16: Rachael

By 7:00 the skies had become pitch black and Sam had lost consciousness again. They really were quite delicate these humans. I knew not only from my capacity to end lives so easily, but because living in corporeal form had taught me. I might be something a whole lot greater, but as long as I needed to eat, sleep, repair, I felt weaker than in my natural state. Sure, I healed faster, was infinitely more powerful, and barely required sleep, but the vulnerabilities still felt like they were weighing me down.

Perhaps that's why it had been harder to hurt Sam as I had needed to. He had this inner strength I admired – even as I cut into him he was looking for ways to escape, trying to influence me to let him go, though never begging. I had heard a lot of begging, bargaining and pleading in my time, but not Sam. _Poor Sam_ I caught myself thinking. I realized I was griping the steering wheel hard. I liked his soul. Maybe I could come back and claim it someday – if he lived. These feelings were not usual in my kind, in fact they were a distinct weakness and very unhelpful.

Poor Sam indeed! What had come over me, sympathizing for one of them? It would look bad enough that I left him alive. I really couldn't understand that I had done that, and had left a message for Sabian to come and find him. If any of my peers found out I would never live it down. The last wraith that sympathized had a hellish time – literally – trying to make up for the shortcoming. Still, I had spared Sam as best as I could, but maybe he would still die from the wounds. Even though I cut as shallow as possible for maximum benefit, he might still bleed out. There was that hope. The fact I found myself liking the guy was abhorrent and made me want to retch as the sickly sweet feeling sat with me.

Even though I did like Sam, to be honest with myself, truthfully, Sabian was the investment. Blind faith, corruptible values, temperamental mindset and a blinding obsessive streak– A perfect mix.

As I drove up the winding and ever more country road I realized I was headed towards Sabian's house – the one I had come to that fateful night Amber had convinced me to join her for her brother's party. Strange how fate brings things together. One minute I was a weakling with no decent memory of who I was, where I was going, and the next I was finding myself all over again. For that I was thankful. If I had spent much more time mooching I may have just had to kill myself after all. Disgusting habit, self pity, and one I was grateful to have let go with my physical life so many years ago. How quickly 3,000 years passes. And yet, how slowly the last few weeks seemed to have crawled.

I could actually remember escaping after Uther severed my direct connection with the body. I could recall running, still feel the fear as Uther gained on me. How embarrassing – running from Uther. How glad I was that part of me had remained strong enough to still be able to fight him, to pull his head from his torso and walk away to leave him to rot. They all deserved to rot. Damned irritating do good protectors. Once they used to be just like us, like me, until they became all judgmental. That's what happens when you get caught up in emotional connections with humans. No fucking good. You end up like Uther, headless and decaying in the sands somewhere south of nowhere.

Uther and I had actually been friends at one stage, well Rachael had been anyhow. He had been 'working' with a team of scientists on sleep disordered patients out in the desert – the idea being less disturbances and background sounds. The only place they could source though was the abandoned mine which they had converted underground areas of for the study of the patients sleeping and living habits. Rachael had been one of the patients, not that they had seemed to be able to help her at all. Uther had taken the job 'undercover' to source potential wraith hosts. The ones that slept poorly seemed to be able to see the other side more clearly, making it easier for us to take them. Uther was working, and had been for almost a century on means of detection, and trying to address sleep disorder sufferers symptoms to reduce the risk of habitation by my kind. A more passive approach to some of his counterparts. They usually just liked to find, slash and slay....Just like how they got me in Mississippi 70 years ago. After that rueful experience I had willingly taken a break from this plain of existence to stay in my natural, more ghostly form, to regenerate and take time to reflect over what I wanted. But then, I was commissioned again, and since taking Rachael had had a nearly unmarred record of fulfilling tasks. I preferred to think of myself as being a more rogue candidate this time. Last time in Mississippi, I had worked as part of a team, which proved to make up much more easily detectable, and easier to circumvent. Too many Type A personalities working together meant other things too, jealousy, showing off skills, more lives than necessary had been lost to us, not that I minded the lives so much, but the attention drew us away from our core duties and into frequent affrays with the others – usually other Wraith like myself who worked for the other side now, or even worse, witches and half walkers who knew enough to see us, avoid us and warn others about us.

Half walkers I could almost overlook, as even if they saw us for what we really were, they rarely got involved in any harmful or irritating ways – only because they knew also the inherent danger of being stupid enough to try anything on one of us, let alone a group. Witches though, good, bad, or fence sitters, were nearly always painful. The good ones felt like they had to stand up for the grace of humanity, The bad ones always wanted to butt heads to try and prove their power, and the grey, the fence sitters were so irritating in their lack of commitments, it just made me want to throttle them out of principal. Still there was one Gray that had surprised me, a friend of Rachael's though I doubt Rachael would have known what she was. Kitti – clearly short for something else, given her age. I could sense she had been around nearly as long as I had. I watched from the shadows one day as Kitti gave Rachael a ring. I had hissed in the dark expecting it to be something to protect her, but it had just been this piece of silver, inert, with the inscription 'To Rachael, Stay cool'. Why she hadn't stopped me from taking her I had never been sure of. She could have, or at least made it harder for me. Kitti had mumbled about not resisting fate, no matter the consequences...or something just as fatalistic. Anyhow, couldn't say I hadn't been grateful for the witch's oversight there. Rachael was a perfect match. Another 20 year or so and I would have to start looking for another though.

As I drove to one of my safe houses to stock up on passports, tools, clothes, money and supplies, I kept thinking of the time I spent in the mine. Of Uther, me contorting in the chair, trying as best as I could to break free from the chains he had bound me with, the feeling of helplessness as he pressed a headpiece to my skull and ran a current of electricity through it after he forced me to swallow an herbal mix. There had been sigils, combination marks of runes designed to bring forth incantations and magic, all over the walls under my chair and then above me on the roof. That had kept me bound and unable to move until he had released me, believing me to locked away from Rachael's conscience. He hadn't known of course that he had wiped her mind at the same time. If there was even anything left of substance.

Flitting in and out of recollection, I could remember picking up the chair and smashing it over Uther's back, freeing Jonah and holding him to me as I ran down the short tunnel into the daylight. I saw in my mind's eye running, bare feet on the sand, throwing Jonah to the ground, the first blow to Uther's head. Even Uther had given up trying to save me, and had fought to kill. I recalled managing to jump on his back, tear at his head....then walking with Jonah to the road in the hot desert sun.

We had found Uther's car and drove it until it's full tank of petrol ran out and it was dark again. I was so weak, so disoriented that when I had seen the small town police station, I had headed for it, but hadn't stopped the car. I drove straight into the building, before climbing out of the car door, taking Jonah by the hand and continuing to walk down the road. There were a hundred people out of their homes in an instant of course, all watching in shock and surprise as the two of us just kept walking as if on automatic pilot. I had known I was headed somewhere, needed to take Jonah there to be safe, and I knew in my gut I had to protect him, but had not known where, why or how.

The police, less than impressed, had called for an ambulance for us, called the fire brigade, but the car had been leaking what little petrol it had in it since colliding with the police station. In the rush of the flames and sirens a man in his sleep pants and slippers had snapped the two of us mid stride as ambulance personnel were trying to stop us.

I was pulled from my memories by the loud horn of an oncoming car. I straightened the wheel again and shifted my focus to the road. I still wanted to last the 20 years give or take this body had to offer. A head on collision wasn't something I could likely fix all that well.

I recognized that I had just driven past Sabian's turnoff, and I decided against my better judgment to stop off on the way to my next destination. I just had to send my regards. I smiled evilly to myself as I performed the worlds least legal U turn on the turn of a hill and doubled back.

When I pulled up outside the front of the house, there were three cardboard boxes filled with what looked like Sabian's belongings. Curious. I had traded the black leather and red shirt, now drenched in dirt and blood for, shimmying green silk all in one suit. The pants clung to my legs before dropping to my red high heels. The low open neckline dropped past my breasts so they were hinted at on either side, while nothing was truly given away, and I had procured gold chains that lightly bounced against my chest as I got out of the car and strolled to the door. I rang the bell feeling every inch of the svelte perfection that I looked. I swept my hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear as I heard a woman, Natasha, coming to the door.

As Natasha opened the door I noticed her blood shot eyes and reddened nose. She had been crying, crying while she packed up his stuff. Ah. So it really was finished for them.

When she saw me Natasha's body became defensive immediately. She crossed her arms, pursed her lips and glared at me. It was kind of amusing. Given I knew I could tear her apart should I wish. But what was the point of shooting fish in a barrel. I smiled at her instead which caused the vein on her forehead to pulse and I could practically hear her teeth grinding.

"Hello Natasha. Long time no see." A fake sweetness accompanied my words.

"Don't you look different." Natasha responded snidely.

"I'm just trying to keep up appearances," I leaned forward and whispered for dramatic effect. "I'm really dying on the inside." I loved this. I could almost hear her heart breaking, smell her anger towards me. It was delicious.

"I somehow doubt I could be that lucky." Natasha's face remained unchangingly serious.

Moving back to stand tall I became more firm. "No need to be nasty now, I just came to say hi to Sabian and leave him a token of my appreciation. Something to remember me by."

"You should already know he doesn't live here anymore – seeing as the two of you have become so close." Infidelity. I loved he hadn't shared any of his theories or assumptions with her. She had no idea, and still thought this was some kind of lovers tryst, or triangle. No sense leaving her tortured by that, especially since I could pain her with the possibility she had made a mistake – infinitely worse.

"I think you have misread the situation Natasha. He might be my type, but he never strayed from you. Don't get me wrong, all the terribly divine things I thought about doing to him, for him....you don't give him enough credit." I smiled wickedly when I saw her fingers clench until they whitened on the doorframe. I was surprised she didn't slam it in my face, but then the temptation to kick the door in and strangle her on the floor of her own home might have been too great.

Through gritted teeth she hissed at me and I knew it was time to leave before I went too far. "He chose you over me, isn't that enough? You want to come here and gloat? Go roast in hell.?" I polished my nails on the material of my blouse, undeterred.

"You have no idea." I smiled, and she blankly stared back at me. "Anyhow, lovely as it might have been catching up, I have to head off. Places to be, people to see – as they say." I started to walk off the porch when she called after me.

"You said you wanted to leave him something. He's coming by to pick up his things any minute now...He was supposed to be here hours ago....just put it with his things if you want." I turned on my heel and produced a coin in my hand. I tossed it to her and she caught it just before it connected with her forehead. It had a Triskele, a three sided swirling pattern, on one side and a Rune marking for 'wish' on the other.

"Tell him I owe him one.....he'll know what I mean." With my last remark I resumed my path back to the car, climbed in and circled back out of her driveway. At least Sabian couldn't say I didn't follow the rules, I did owe him. He had offered me protection, assistance and money since I met him and I intended to repay him in kind, or at least however he wanted. My instincts told me that now he would know the truth, he would he would wish for something sensible, safe, like Natasha falling back in to his arms. I could imagine it now, he would wipe her mind of anything painful, take her away to Germany or wherever it was she romanticized about going and live the rest of his life trying to forget he aided and abetted an underling. A Wraith, a demon, whatever the language was of the time...

I sighed, I would kind of miss his unwavering adulation, curious obsession with me and enthusiasm about my 'good' nature. That's another thing that amused me. Even though he would see me for what I really was, the fact I sent him to help Sam would confuse the heck out of him. The one last favour I would ask of him.

I did hope he got there in time. I had taken Sam's car, then ditched it outside of the school Jonah was attending, so there would be no clear marker in the dark for Sabian to find. I wondered if, as Sabian pulled up, the utter darkness, and the fear of what might be waiting would cause him to turn around. Or perhaps his undying need to know would get the better of him and he would wonder into the dark with little else than the torch he kept in his glovebox to guide him with. He would pick through the grass and ruts in the earth, creep into the barn and by the light of the torch and not much else find Sam's body hanging there. Dead or alive – only fate would say at this stage. Either way Sabian would throw the torch to the ground and cut Sam down with the knife I left there, then call the authorities, go with him in the ambulance. Then there would be the awkward explanation to the police. What would Sabian say I pondered. What would Sam say? Interesting. Assuming Sam even made it of course.

Of everything though, it bothered me most that there was still a loose end, and not Sam or Sabian – they could say whatever they wanted. What did get under my skin was that when I had tortured that dealer on Smith Street, I had hurt him in ways that usually made people spill every last detail, but he hadn't, not about the location of the box. In the end, his heart had given way and I hadn't had the chance to find out what he had done with it. After searching his shop and rummaging through everything, I hadn't been able to find it. Not that it was the only one of it's kind, but it bothered me that there had been one left near me, and I hadn't had the chance to destroy it. Those stupid medieval devices had caused enough havoc with my kind over the last few centuries and we all dreaded being trapped by one. If we were trapped and God forbid buried or otherwise displaced we would remain conscious, but trapped in the tiny box of mirrors until someone opened it. Whoever opened it would automatically accommodate out presence in their body, but it could be an eternity before someone found us. That could drive any spirit mad. We had all decided, whenever one was found, for the greater good, we would have to destroy it, and I had let one sit on my coffee table, unknowing for days. Another thing I would have to live down. In the meantime, I was going to have a little fun with my downtime before working on my next project, and I thought a good place to start was going somewhere far enough away from here, somewhere cold. I was thinking Canada.

#  Chapter 17: Sabian

10 months had past since I had entered that barn with absolute dread. I had called an ambulance, and the police who arrived remarkably quickly considering we were in the middle of nowhere. In truth, I had believed Sam was dead when I found him. In a way I guess he was. I tried to cut him down but worried I might break his neck or something when he fell. I couldn't find a pulse and he was cold, but apparently significant blood loss does that. When they said they found a pulse I was stunned, and accompanied the ambulance to the hospital where one of the police officers from Sam's own area command arrived while he was in surgery and I was contemplating my miserable efforts to change my crumbling world for the better by helping Rachael.

In my grief for Amber, for Kes, for my marriage (which I hadn't exactly helped to save either) I had let myself get lost in the hope that Rachael was more than just an ordinary woman who could do extraordinary things. I was right, but boy was I wrong. She wasn't some kind of mystically inspired Asatru, wasn't even something of good. I had also been right with regards to the existence of Wraith, of the evil ghostlike possessive spirits that held wickedness in their hearts. I had been clenching the arms of the uncomfortable plastic hospital seats when the officer found me, and introduced himself. Explaining what had happened was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. Especially seeing as if Sam survived I wondered what he would say.

Turned out Sam wouldn't say anything at all. Not a thing, refused to mention anything about Rachael, even though the officers who visit him prompted him regularly – at least at the beginning, until they decided that if he wanted to be left alone, they would honor that, or give up on him. I knew all this only because I went to meet with Sam daily while he was in rehab, and then again when he was able to go home, when he lost his job – I had drinks with him to commiserate.

In spite of the fact that Sam feigned memory loss to everyone else involved, when he spoke with me it was quite clear he remembered every detail down to the glowing eyes that still woke him in a sweat in the middle of the night. He and I learned to agree on a lot of things such as who she was, what she was, and the fact she had divulged that she took Rachael's body so many years ago helped us trace her history and find out who she was, or had been. But it became very clear that the Rachael who had been a teacher at the local primary school, who had been engaged to a local real estate divorcé and busy planning her wedding when she disappeared. And she had done just that – disappeared. There were some records of her attending a sleep centre, some tie in's with Uther, the otherwise unidentified impossibly aged corpse they had found out in the desert a few hours from where Rachael and Jonah had been discovered. Other than brief mentions though, nothing else.

I moved to a new house, the divorce paperwork cam through from Natasha and my life took on an inevitability that didn't sit well with me, Sabian the great entrepreneur, the negotiator, the consultant to the local and international hotshots had all but disappeared. One night, feeling particularly sorry for myself, I decided I had to make some firm choices: to forget what had happened and move on as best as I could, or drop everything and in the pursuit of madness. Moving on had proved harder than it sounded, and dropping everything meant losing all my resources, everything I had worked hard for my whole life. I wasn't going to let Rachael take that as well, not after I let her take so much from me already. So I struck a deal with myself – well both Sam and I did, but I ended up somehow seeming to be the only one who held the bargain truly together. I mustered all my strength, and I made sure that it seemed for all intents and purposes to the outside world, that I had fully returned to normal. My clients were happy, my PA was appeased in her worries, Sabian had returned. By day at least.

My nights had been taken up by something very different though. While Sam recuperated I had invested a great deal of time and money into doing some deep digging into the occult, all manner of supernatural, and anything else that might serve useful to us. I researched numerous myths, legends and occult histories, acquired talismans, weaponry and amassed herbs, crystals, and anything else that might prove useful. In doing this, I learned a few tricks along the way, including how to guard myself and my house from, and most useful - how to find indicators of the unnatural in seemingly ordinary events. For example, some of the best underground underworld figures I had networked with frequented a new club 'The Devil's Cave' – turned out the place was owned by a witch of enormous power, and there were various rumours, I couldn't discount, that she was a vampire as well.

Of everything I collected though, mounted on the walls of my private enclave, or encased in chests, it was the mirror box and Stiletto that I kept on a pedestal. It had arrived by courier on my doorstep the morning after Rachael had disappeared, leaving Sam and I in her wake. I greeted it in the morning when I awoke, then fell asleep watching it at night. It featured in my dreams and inspired me to propose to Sam an idea that had been forming, for me, and now, for us. Something we were almost ready to take up and turn from imagining to reality.

There was something else I had in my possession however that could make or break my future and was the key to everything coming together for my plans. The token. Natasha had brought it to me the night I had found Sam. She had come to pick me up from the hospital the very night she had expected me to pick up my belongings from our porch. But then, that was the type of person she was. I missed her company more with each day, week and month, especially since she had headed off to finish a project in Germany, and start preparations for her next great monument to the hoteliers industry.

I missed Amber dreadfully also. I visited her grave with a weekly diligence, and used the time to reflect on how I had grown over the last year since her death. Rachael coming in to my life had been both a curse as well as a blessing. After all I owed her both mine and Natasha's lives, along with my friends'. I couldn't overlook the fact that she opened my eyes to a whole other world as well. I had immersed myself in a realm of magic, where the rules I had been taught over the years were suspended. I had loved that, and still did, even in the times I thought I might be mad - before something else proved I wasn't.

Regardless, I was back to 'normal', even if that did mean I had a double life on my hands. Sam however hadn't been so able to keep up pretenses by falling into old habits, and patterns.

Before he had even had a chance to properly heal, he had been sent home with minimal rehab, been fired and had to move. He declined my offers to help with a proper physiotherapy program, or help him keep his apartment. I even offered him work, but he needed to do it on his own – he said as much, but I saw it in his eyes. He studied as hard as I did, plotted even harder, and during the day picked a labouring job that helped him keep his physical strength up.

Sam had changed and it was clear in the way he carried himself, pushed his limits, and even in the place he lived. I avoided it, to be truthful, as much as possible. It was bare, dark and disheveled – and reflected Sam's internal state. It made me uncomfortable because although I was filled with anger, regret, and fear, he was brimming with pain, rage and vengeance. We both knew though that we were bent on finding her again.

The night before we were planning on taking the last big step in what we had decided to do, Sam and I sat at a local bar, bent on finalising the details. There had been a spate of deaths across five small towns several miles north at the border. We had been there before, asking questions, paying people off and trying to uncover the who, what, where and why. While we hated to admit it, this one was beyond us, and it wouldn't hurt to have a little more assistance.

"I think asking for help is risky Sabian." Sam leaned back against the plether booth and guzzled his third beer of the hour. He wore his almost signature dark blue long sleeved shirt and black jeans. In the initial stages of rehab he had cut his hair shirt, complaining it always got in the way. That was the first time I had seen one of his friends, James – just after Sam cut his hair. They had spent a long time reminiscing, before James had offered up that all things happen for a reason – that was it. Sam had practically chased James out the door. The man had given me a sad, but understanding look as he fled. James had been the only one not with an invested interest in Sam talking to them - .everyone else who had visited was from work. Even Sam's sister, who had only managed three visits before deciding she had had enough of him for the time being, had pushed him to go to counselling, pushed him to see a friends of hers who was a psychiatrist, and then the eventual death knell to their contact – she suggested that he call on their cousin who was a priest.

Watching all these interactions, I had learned a great deal about what not to say around Sam now, and in reflection I wondered how much I had changed, how much my behaviour was driven by my recent experiences with Rachael. Sam, whatever level of insight he had in to how he reacted now, was driven more by fear than anything else. After all he had ended up with the worse part of the experience. I had just been duped, manipulated, made to be a fool, let myself be an accomplice to hiding two murders, but Sam had connected with her, spent the weekend with her before she tried to kill him. If that is what she tried to do. I still held firm that she tried not to kill him, but I guess being tied up, suspended upside down and stuck like a proverbial pig leads to a darker place than I was in. So when Sam said that asking Rachael to help us was risky, I knew it was the fear talking, making him second guess himself, even though we had been prepared for so long.

I pondered how to bring up the anxiety without getting the backlash "I know, I know...but maybe Sam, you might be a little.....

"I think we need more time. That's all I'm saying." Came the defensive rebut.

"For what?"

His eyes scouted the room. "To prepare," I raised an eyebrow which made him pull his features together in irritation. "If we call on her, how are we going to make sure she's under control – wont kill us? What if your assumptions are wrong Sabian. We're dead."

"And so?" I challenged.

"And so!?" Sam spoke too loudly and several people nearby shot glances in our direction. In a lowered tone, he continued. "I've been there, done that, and I'm not keen to go back to a place where she has a knife aimed at my internal organs again. If we do this, we do it right."

I leaned closer. "The people we are trying to help don't have time. We know the thing that's stalking them is hidden, we know it knows them and we also know we are no closer to finding it than we were a month ago."

Sam looked resigned now. "I know, you tell me daily."

"I know you must be anxious."

"Yeah anxious – that's putting it mildly."

"But I don't think there is going to be any better time for the people that we can prevent being slaughtered, or for us. Do you want me to go alone?"

Sam protested. "No. You do it, I do it. Together like we planned."

"Seriously, if you cant do this...." Sam shot me a deathly glare and I deflected the conversation slightly. "Do you want to go over the essentials of the case again? See if there is anything else we missed, anything that buys us more time?"

"No. You're right, we are out of time. We call her tomorrow. But let's go over the info again anyway." From the seat beside him, Sam pulled out his black notebook he carried everywhere with him, a leather bound piece that had a wrap around strap to hold it closed. Unwrapping the book, he opened it to a page with a series of dot points.

I started the recap. "The creature we are looking for is body hopping. It jumps from one person to another, surrounding a group of women and men from seemingly typical looking suburban towns."

"Evidence for assumptions are:" Sam took up. "Each of the eight victims was found dead by their partner or spouse the next morning, contorted, eyes and mouth open in fear and body seemingly dehydrated to the point of death...."

"Looked like half mummies to me." I added shuddering.

"Like I said, severely dehydrated. On investigation, there are marks that suggest pressure on the chest and neck as though a person knelt on their chest to pin them down while strangling them – and the prints match the partner, only the partner doesn't know anything about it, is legitimately distressed, and is missing memories from the day before."

"And vouched to be of good standing by peers and associates." I pointed out.

Sam nodded and continued on. "In each case the only link is that the people are from the same town, the victims all have varying social connections, friends, hobbies, and no one is talking. There are signs of black magic though, being animal deaths, pest problems in spite of treatments, charred pentagrams cited in the local cemeteries, and I am still convinced there has to be a link between the victims – maybe they summoned something they couldn't control?" He gave me a pointed look that I refused to acknowledge.

"There are minimal indications that the victims may have had some involvement in magic yes, but not black magic..."

"Same, same."

"No. Different!" I insisted. "Besides, where is the link between the people themselves?"

Sam shrugged. "Four went to the same high school. Two others worked as interns at the same job."

"But there seems to be no overlay, and you are talking about people in their forties. That's a very long space in between bare associations...."

"Reality is we may never know." Sam stated disappointedly as he finished the last of his beer.

"Unless we get some help."

"So where do we go?" He asked me.

"To the last place of interest. Tomorrow night. I bury this in the ground," I produced the token Rachael had left me. I wore it attached to a tether around my neck and it felt heavier every day. "Then light a candle over it. When the flame burns to the ground, she should join us."

"And then?"

"Then I have to be really specific in what we are asking for."

"To leave no loopholes where she can rip us to pieces." He added.

"Pretty much."

There was a pause, the silence filled with bar music and the sound of glasses clinking behind the bar. I waited for him to find an excuse, make up some half cocked reason as to why we shouldn't go ahead. It never came. Instead he nodded to himself silently and seemed to be going over things in his head before he exhaled and looked determinedly at me. "Yep. It's time."

"She will be able to help." I assured. "She'll know what it is that's doing this, and tell us how to stop it."

"Are you certain?"

_Somewhat, pretty much, kind of..._ "Absolutely." I replied with authority.

"Let do it then."

With that, Sam and I left, to have one last restless night's sleep before meeting up again the next morning to drive the 9 hours to our chosen location. As we parted ways in the dark, crisp night we walked in separate directions. Over the time we had known each other, I had been truly honest with Sam, admitted everything, but now I asserted that I knew what I was doing with absolute confidence, when in fact I was really just as emotionally driven as he was, feigning conviction in my own words so I could move through all the preparation. What I didn't tell Sam, and what I didn't really want to admit to myself was a hard truth. When we were through with it all, I was actually going to miss her.

***

Sam and I stood by the car in the freezing dark. We alternated feet, breathed into out fists trying to keep warm as we stood watching the black tapir candle approach its home in the earth. The candle flickered lightly from time to time, but we still had a few minutes before it burned completely down to the dirt that covered the token. The tension created little room for conversational topics so we both stayed quiet, watching. We had picked a location near enough to the town we could walk as neither of us liked the idea of driving with her in a closed space, but far away enough that the chances of anyone coming across us was low. As a result it was pitch black, except for the moon and the headlights of the car, and being so far north it was cold as hell.

I knew she was bound to follow through on her promise to owe me a favour, but I was equally aware that if she wanted to she could exploit any loophole. I had carefully chosen my words on asking her the favour. 'I need you to help us safely and successfully find a resolution to our problem before you leave us in peace and return to your duties.' That way she couldn't turn on us, endanger us, and had to see things through to an end before we expected her to leave. I repeated the words in my head over and over in what seemed to be a vast black silence.

The flame flickered and drew closer to the ground.

"Maybe walking wasn't such a good idea." Sam said suddenly.

"What?" I asked incredulous. In the midst of all that tension, all the build up to being on the side of the road waiting for an unearthly being to present itself so we could execute our plans and save apparently innocent people being drained of life on the way, this seemed so out of place on the scale of things to be second guessing.

"It's just as likely if something is going to go wrong it will happen in the car." He indicated.

"True." I admitted, "But who gets the front seat?" Sam laughed, first nervously, but the break in the tension was catching. I laughed. We laughed hysterically, leaning against the car, becoming abruptly silenced again when the flame extinguished itself.

We both straightened ourselves, feeling bolted to the ground, holding our breath, waiting for her to appear.

Rachael didn't though. It was just Sam and I standing in the middle of a dark, empty dirt road. Through the intensity and unbearable vacuous stillness we waited. Waited for something to happen. We looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

"All this.... All this..." I stammered.

"And it doesn't work." Sam thumped a hand on the car roof, and I doubled over. That's when the car lights went out. There was a tremor and the laughter stopped. The tremor build and we braced ourselves once more in the darkness. A moment later the ground was still but the darkness remained. I searched for a silhouette, any sign of Rachael being there. But there was nothing. The car lights came back on and Sam and I took a few paces forward. Nothing.

"Hello boys." Rachael's voice sounded from behind us.

#  Chapter 18: Sam

Spinning around, we saw her, lounging on the roof of the car. She looked even more different than the last time I saw her. There was an unnatural shine in her eye, and she had her hair interspersed with plaits. She rested on one arm, and toyed with a lighter in the other, while one of her knee length lace up black boots tapped as tough impatient. The sound of the tapping on the roof of the car seemed to bellow out in the still night air. Her make up was dark, her lips a wet red shine against the matt of her skin. She regarded us like a cat regarded a fish swimming in a bowl, and a slight curve of her lips presented itself. It chilled me even more so when I realised she was staring right at me.

"Like what you see Samuel?" She grinned further before swinging her legs around and hoping off the roof, her boots landing resolutely on the grass next to the car and by the side of the dirt road.

"I'm here to talk shop. That's all." I said steadfastly. "We need your help, believe it or not."

"Why would I?" Came the challenge. Now she was standing I saw what she was wearing. A tight leather shirt, black with slash marks across it, baring skin in all the right places. Similarly tight pants followed every inch of her from where her calves emerged from the business like boots to the definition of her hips. She took a step forward towards me. I was waiting for Sabian to say something, but he remained stunned, speechless.

"Because you owe us?" I had definitely meant that to be a statement, not a question, but my heart was beating faster, and I could feel beaded sweat on my temples.

Sabian finally pulled it together. "We used the token to summon you, to request your assistance."

Rachael abandoned my fraught face and turned her attention to Sabian. "I thought you would use it to make up with dear Natasha, or wasn't she worth the time and effort any more. Interesting!" She moved closer to me still and put a hand on my upper arm, rubbing it as though we were old friends and the touch was simply natural. My body felt as though it turned to heavy stone. She closed the distance between her face and mine, not quite touching, but far too close for comfort. "Sam, I'm flattered. I see you been working on that body of yours for me."

Instinctively I recoiled and made a childish noise of disapproval like I had just been touched by a spider or slug. I wished some other noise of protest had come out, but I hardly had control of myself.

"Aww, lover. Don't be like that." But she smiled, and was clearly enjoying herself, not insulted. She crossed her arms and I took the chance to remind Sabian as to why we were here, try and get him to speed things up. "Sabian, maybe you need to ask her more specifically for what we want." I pushed.

"Doesn't matter how nice you ask, I might like you Sam, I did let you live after all, but don't equate affection for a conscience."

"I get that!" I snapped, which only seemed to serve to amuse her further. "How about because Sabian here has a token with your name on it."

"Well, now that's a currency I can appreciate." Rachael said becoming more serious again. She walked back over to the car and leaned on the driver side door. "But do you know what you're doing?"

Sabian snapped out of his haze. "We need you to help us safely and successfully find a resolution to our problem before you leave us in peace and return to your duties." He announced it in a stilted and monotone voice as though he had rehearsed it a thousand times. Probably had.

"Gave that some thought now didn't you?" Rachael replied, sounding impressed. "Well where to now?"

I dipped my head down the dark road and without hesitation she walked ahead. "To town it is." She agreed, and took up the lead. Sabian and I both trailed her for a while, Rachael taking an jovial glimpse over her shoulder at us intermittently. "Anyone going to give me a rundown on what you need me to help with, or are we just playing follow the leader for the night?"

With reluctance, Sabian and I picked up pace and joined her, running her though the details we had thus far. By the time the lights of the town were within sight she was fully briefed.

"Do you know what it is?" I asked of her.

"Don't insult me." Rachael sneered. "What you have is Life Leech, also known as a Psychic Vampire. This one sounds like he has been sent to take out a specific group of people though – they don't usually feed so often across a relatively small area."

"How do we kill it." I cut to the chase.

"Find the body it's in, take the head. That easy."

"Is there a way to save the host?"

"The body?" She asked as though surprised by the assertion.

"Yes, the human being it has taken." I said angrily. Sabian gave me a look as if to silence me.

"There is no way. But if you really want, console yourself with the fact the person you are killing would likely have taken the life of someone they loved by the sound of our friend. You're sparing them the horror, and the life of the person they would have killed. That should keep you warm and cozy at night." Rachael gave me another look, inquisitive. "You think of me at night lover?"

"Don't call me that." I commanded, for what it was worth.

"You shouldn't be so uptight. Look how far you've come – you should be grateful, embrace your new skills, new strengths." As soon as she spoke I felt a rising tension, and explosion of fury taking me.

Sabian must have seen it to because before I had a chance to do something I regret, he interjected. "Rachael, we're at the town, now what? Where do we start?"

We had approached the first buildings of the town and Rachael marched up to a tree on the side of the road. Placing her hand on it, the leaves rustled, and the bark peeled in places. She appeared to be drawing energy from it. After a moment her look of concentration faded and she stood back. "This way." Rachael declared and strode into the town.

A few minutes later we found ourselves standing outside a bar, on the corner of two near-deserted streets. The place was on the corner, opposite a park and fairly dingy looking down to the unpromising looking flashing florescent cocktail glass outline.

Inside was just as seedy, dark wooden paneling, darker wood chairs and tables, second rate lighting and a handful of local individuals giving skeazy new definition.

Rachael seemed in her element though, practically gliding across the unpolished wooden floor to the bar. She propped herself us, took the bartender's wrist and looked him directly in the eye. A moment later he was pouring three shots for us and walked away. Rachael downed one and turned to face the room. There wasn't a single person not watching her with at least one eye. I ignored my drink, Sabian took his.

"The table in the far right." I attuned to that space of the room. Two beefish looking men and a girl with long red hair and a myriad of tattoos and a red jacket handing off her chair sat with a kingly air. A younger, more weaselly man hovered around them, sitting, then standing, looking as though he was on some kind of upper. "They know what the link is between the people dying."

"How do you know that?" Sabian asked before she gave a ridiculing huffing sound, and walked straight over to the table. As she advanced, two other tables got up and fled. Everyone at the table we approached stared her down. Rachael pulled a chair from an adjoining table without even breaking the rhythm of her walk, then twisted it around before straddling it, and the people on the other side of the table showed the first flicker of being unnerved.

"So I'm looking for the answers to some questions my friends have." Rachael started.

The group looked up at Sam and I, standing either of her, and a smug look fixed upon their faces.

The man in the middle, sporting a graying beard, but balding on top leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. "I hope they aren't supposed to be your bodyguards girly, or you are going to be sorely sorry."

"Don't need bodyguards friend." She replied cooly.

The man's face fell in to a displeased look. "Don't call me friend girly."

Rachael snatched his hand from across the table and broke his middle finger. "Don't call me girlie!" The other big guy at the table pulled out a gun and held it to Rachael, though she never flinched. The big guy in the middle yelled in response to the pain, and the younger guy took a step back. The woman stood to her feet. "Sit down!" Rachael said pushing back the next digit on the man's hand. He nodded and made a gurgling sound. The woman sat back down. The young guy just continued sweating as he stood.

Rachael took a satisfied breath. "Now where were we? I am tracking something you might know as a Life Leech. And don't bother denying it, you reek of spells and magic."

"Then you should know to fear us." The woman bit out.

"Don't try me lady. You don't know anything. Just a freaking tag along." Rachael said, briefly drawing her attention from the man whose hand she held. Turning back to him she let his hand go, and he retracted it, holding it close. He glared at Rachael, and she lost patience. "Speak!" She yelled at him and slammed her fists into the table. Cracks developed across the wood grain. I looked around and saw Sabian on edge, fists clenched, and not another soul aside from ours left in the bar.

Rachael gathered her composure again, and smiled pleasantly. "Not wanting to talk. I get that, but unfortunately you stand between myself and my freedom. I got called here from one of the single most debaucherous, sinful get togethers in LA. I want back to my life, as it were, so you are going to start talking."

"Fuck you" The man spat. Without warning Rachael rose to her feet, kicking the table into the hand of the man holding the gun, causing it to blast into the roof, and the holder to fall to the ground. Simultaneously, she took the man across the table by the throat and dug her nails in so hard blood trickled from the wounds. The young guy finally panicked, ran out the back, presumably to get back up. The man struggled for breath and I drew my gun, and pointed it at the other on the floor, keeping him from searching for his gun. The woman continued to sit on the chair, hands n the air and trembling.

"Can we do this without killing anyone?" I shouted at Rachael, but all she did was give me a disgusted look over her shoulder, never releasing her hold on the man. Through her revolted expression she looked legitimately surprised I would have asked such a thing of her – not to kill these people.

"What do you think I am? Honestly! Have you even thought this through?" And with that she crushed the man's trachea and let him slump over what was left of the table on the floor.

"What the fuck!" I cried out.

"I thought we needed them?" Sabian called, confused from the spot he was rooted to.

"They all meet once a month." The man who had been holding the gun yelled. Rachael smiled and walked over to him. He crouched, occasionally eyeing his gun lying there on the floor. The woman in the chair started to make a whimpering sound. I saw Sabian shush her, aware Rachael would quite happily end her rather than hear the invasive sound.

"Tell me more." She demanded, bringing herself down to his eye level, and the man complied. I lowered my gun and packed it away.

"They are part of a coven, they meet monthly here on full moon or other dates. They made a pact and now they are being hunted. They pissed him off."

"Who?" I asked unable to contain my curiosity.

"Lormorian."

"No joke!" Rachael laughed. "The leech was contracted by Lor?! I'll be damned."  
"Is that a good thing?" Sabian asked.

"It's not a problem. Lor wont mind me taking one of his minions." She stood before looking back down on the man below. "Who's next?"

"The next person I know of is in the next town over, Patrick East. But there are others – not sure where they're from. They only come in with the locals for supplies when they need to."

"What do you supply them with?" I questioned.

"Whatever they need, but nothing sick, you know.....only herbs and shit, a couple like to take some light acid to help them – you know....fly."

Rachael had a look wash over her face. "Rachael." I called her name, I knew what she was thinking, what she was going to do. "Rachael. Let's go." She stood her ground.

After a short pause Rachael moved the gun with her boot, closer to the man. He shook his head. "Take it." She said of the gun. "Go ahead." Her voice altered, deepened and sounded demonic: "I'll kill you if you don't."

Shaking, the man reached as fast as he could, but she took his hand as he slid his fingers around it. Feigning effort, playing with him, she slowly turned the gun to his face, and pulled the trigger with his own hand. The woman, still sitting on the chair sobbing made a half shriek for which she used both her hands to cover her mouth as blood spattered everywhere.

Rachael stepped past her, but hesitated and took a step back. My stomach lurched. I should have been frightened but as it was, I had let Rachael manage the situation for a reason. She had got results, but at an unacceptable cost. As it was, Rachael simply reached over the woman and pulled the red jacket from the back of the chair behind her, then walked out of the bar, with Sabian and I in tow.

"What is Lormorian Rachael?"

"A relative legend in my realm. He creates us, recruits us. Amazing, ageless, but not without his flaws." At my inquisitive look she continued. "He falls for humans every once in a while – at least until he tears them apart....but as I hear, one of them got under his skin and managed to evade him. It's kept him off the radar for the last few centuries. Anyway – you piss him off, you don't get to live. Stupid primates probably tried to invoke him or something. Good fucking luck to them."

"You'll help us anyway – thank you." Sabian offered.

"Don't thank me, I'll pay for this, but a deal is a deal. I am held to my word, so I'll take on this leech of his, and try and explain things if and when I come across him. Debt paid." She continued walking with purpose, but this time towards a car across the road.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Well I'm not walking to the next town. I still have a party I might catch the end of." With a wry smile she pulled the door open and started the car by placing her hand on the dash.

***

"We need to sleep." Sabian said as we pulled into the next town. The sun was still several hours away from blessing us with it's presence. "Give us a few hours Rachael, and we can find this guy, make it a fresh start in the morning."

"No – I want to get this over and done with." She knocked him back. We shot each other an uneasy glance.

"How about this," I braved. "We are covered in blood, and need to know who is possessed by this thing, so we can tell where and when." Rachael took a long look at me, before looking back out at the road.

"I guess there will be other parties." She conceded and pulled into a motel.

We charged three rooms to Sabian's credit, and helped ourselves to each. Rachael took one next to me, Sabian the next one over, but I knew after a quick shower, none of us would be resting. I was right.

I showered, second guessed myself, tried to relax my shoulders. I even took one of the pills the doctor prescribed for me, just to get my heart rate back down. I had been running on adrenaline the last 24+ hours and didn't want to mess things up so close to our goal. As soon as I walked out of the bedroom, I knew she was there, in the room with me.

I turned to face her, leaning against my room table with an innocent look on her face.

"Rachael."

"Samuel." She emphasised the 'L'. She stood straight and walked over, dressed in clean clothes. She reached out as though to touch my face. I batted her hand away in an automatic response and put more distance between us, but all it seemed to do was irritate her. "You get me all worked up after bringing me here and then think you can just push me away." Her eyes blackened and I shifted my feet to balance my weight. If she ran at me at least I might be able to stand my ground.

She snarled, then, looking me over before taking a step towards me. She ripped her shirt open and her corset bra shone in the lamplight. Stepping forward she gave me a menacing look.

"Believe me. You aren't going to get away from me, you will want me and if I have to fight you – all the better Sam." She grabbed my arm and I pushed her back forcefully. Stumbling backwards she knocked in to the desk which bumped into the wall. Taking a moment to regard me she smiled, and seemed to peer right through me with those black eyes.

"I like this new you." She remarked, standing solidly on both feet and cocking her head to the side.

"There's nothing new." I tried to correct her, but I knew, she knew – I definitely wasn't the same man I used to be before she sliced and diced me. I hoped she couldn't sense fear in me.

"Oh but there is. You aren't afraid like you used to be. The last thing I remembered about you was the stench of fear oozing from your wounds but look at you now, so tall, so strong, so.....powerful." Part of me was relieved she didn't suspect my apprehension, but not for long – she seemed bent on reconnecting our relationship and the more time I spent with her, the more exposed I felt. Not like I could call for help without the person or me ending up dead or bleeding. She walked towards me once more and I put my hand out.

"Back the fuck off." I yelled at her, but she jumped forward and pushed me. I slammed into the side table causing everything to go flying. Trying to regain my stance she was already standing over me and lifted me by the collar. "Come on Sam. You think I came back just because I gave Sabian a token of my affection." She tossed me over and I landed underneath the window. She stalked over to me again. "Don't be jealous. I came back for you darling, and if you think you're going to get out of calling me to you now...well..." She knelt next to me. "You are going to be begging me to prove you wrong...." She leaned forward and traced her tongue up my neck before leaning in to poise her teeth over my upper trapezius. I felt trapped beneath her and braced for more pain as she bit into me but she halted, momentarily distracted by something outside.

There was a sharp rap on the door. She looked at me delighted. "Don't worry honey. We're a head crushing away from being alone."

As I picked myself off the ground as she darted to the door and opened it up, revealing a large biker looking guy standing with his arms crossed and an authoritative look about him. Giant that he looked, I feared for his safety. He raked an accusing look over me. "Everything alright in here?" He quizzed Rachael.

"Just a lover's tiff." She mocked me, peering back at me with an evil glint in her eye. "Nothing I can't handle." With that she turned back to the man with a sweet as pie expression and he cast me another look like I was garbage. I steeled my gaze back and he moved his arms to crack his knuckles.

"Any problems, I'm just next door." He proclaimed as he moved away and back to his room. In his wake we saw an amused Sabian had come up to stand behind him. Sabian entered our room as the man closed the door to his room with a loud crash that made the windows waver.

"New friend?" Sabian asked lightly. Rachael smiled at him as though genuinely pleased to see him, and part of me sighed in relief that I wasn't going to have to fend off her advances again, or at least alone. I wasn't going to take that one for the team effort.

"You look like you found out something." I prompted Sabian, infinitely glad of his timing.

"I found Patrick East. He's only two blocks away." Sabian enthused.

"Looks like sleep will have to wait then." Rachael remarked.

When we arrived at the house, the lights were out, not surprising given it was only an hour or so off dawn. We had walked again, me avoiding Rachael, Sabian almost skipping ahead with excitement. Now we all stood staring up at this house expectantly. Rachael took a step forward and noticed we didn't follow. Sabian and I hesitated and I had a million and one thoughts pouring through my mind. I had to remind myself, that above all, I trusted Sabian now that we had been through so much. He had said he would take it away, bury it in the foundation of some building one of his clients was constructing - and that would be the end of her. We just needed the next few minutes to work in our favour.

#  Chapter 19: Rachael

I almost couldn't believe they hesitated - fearful creatures humans - but still these two I had been developing a growing respect for. Small steps. I had time on my side after all, and any contacts were inevitably invaluable for a place to stay, an alibi, cash or resources in a pinch. After giving each other a re-assuring look, they followed me surely enough.

The house was dark and quiet. But I could feel it. I sensed the presence of both magic and evil here. It smelled sweet and familiar, making my body tingle. Life Leeches were a foot soldier of my kind and I held them in low regard to be honest, though still, taking its head would bring me no real pleasure. These rules and deals should come with stipulations. As they stood we were locked into obeying the instruction of anyone who possessed our tokens, with the exception of taking our own lives, or acting against the wishes of another token owner, for the duration of their wish. We were mandated not to owe humans either, hence the token system. To balance everything out. I owed Sabian, I was paying my debt. I reminded myself to focus on that. Usually though, humans didn't know to watch their language so closely. Any room for movement on our part could mean a token was more a curse than a favour for the human using it. A common favourite was in the case of wealth – wishing for riches might mean we organise a death, and they inherit the money; wishing to win the lottery, might result in a fraud case against them; more creatively, true love wishes might end in making the worst possible matches – where they love a person causing them pain, abuses them, or worse. Sabian had done his research though, double checked himself well. The fact his request was verbalised so specifically, I didn't have room to move – and I had racked my mind for a loophole.

On entering the house, I couldn't see any overt signs of magic, but then, so many people had become good at hiding it. I had used to think it strange given the recent resurgence of pagan mysticism, but then, after a while I realised, it doesn't matter what era, someone somewhere would persecute you. I saw it when I first walked the earth, I saw death and war and terror, then I saw so called understanding and tolerance – the age of reason – and along with it, exactly the same behaviours, people turning inward on each other, and still after all this time, nothing had really changed. There might be a shift in people reporting their free will choices, but at the end of the day, the undercurrent prejudice and bigotry always managed to express itself.

The house itself was well kept – no sign of kids stuff anywhere but a few displayed photos charted a happy looking family. One child – with a graduation photo indicated said child was probably far away pretending to study while drinking too much and contracting some kind of STI. No one but the thing we were stalking and the victim. I loved these kind of hunts. The kind you hold your breath over, creep about, but ultimately know you're going to come out on top of. Plus, I really wanted to see Sabian's face when he saw me kill the leech. I saw his amazement, his awe, back at the bar. Horror struck as it was, I recognise the look well. I was right, he was a good investment.

Having swept downstairs, and finding nothing we traipsed upstairs in single file. Not that I expected to find anything downstairs, but then you never know when someone might have decided to get up early. Nothing like finding a stunned creature in the kitchen half way though a coffee or piece of pie. Not as if that hadn't happened to me before.

Sam followed me up the stairs, followed by Sabian. I left them to search quietly in the other rooms, but I knew where I was headed. The main bedroom was ahead and the feeling of magic, thrummed through me, feeling like divine music. At the door I paused, savouring the moment.

Inching forward I saw it. She was upright in bed, hovering, poised over the man, Patrick, as he slept. As she sensed me, she looked up, red eyes glowing like dark coals in the moonlit night. A low growl came from her throat, and I felt myself smile. She – It – knew why I was there.

Sam had come up behind me, and I heard his breath grow shallow as the Leech and I stared at each other.

Patrick opened his eyes, gasping. Giving Patrick a hungry look, the Leech licked it's lips and jumped on him out of instinct, hoping to take his life before I stopped it. That was what I meant about foot soldier – predictable, following orders at all costs, even if it meant their own lives.

I took three quick steps, covered the distance between us and picked up the Leech with two hands, tossing it into the mirrored cupboard, that promptly smashed in to large shards. The creature, inhabiting Patrick's wife jumped into a low crouch, moving like an animal rather than a human. Patrick, drew himself up in the bed, standing, poised.

"How dare you aid them!" Hissed the Leech.

"Amelia?" Inquired Patrick. We all gave Patrick a warning look.

"Don't take this personally." I drew out a blade from my boot.

"Lormorian might." Came the reply before it pounced back on the bed and took Patrick by the head. Patrick looked torn, but darkened. I felt the energy build in him. It felt almost more power than the usual half walker manifested.

With a quick flash of light, Patrick let a burst of energy free from him, and the Leech landed back at my feet conveniently. _Where was Sabian?_ I thought to myself. He was going to miss this – how irritating.

Leaning down, I took it by the hair, blade to throat and cut, but before I could drag the blade the full section of her neck, I was knocked off my own feet. Patrick stood over me. I was furious.

"Don't you recognise a rescue when you see it!" I accused, standing to my feet.

He looked confused, torn. "I just. She's my wife. I love her. Don't kill her."

"Yeah well when you mess with Lormorian you have to expect a little sacrifice." I added.

"He's right. There has to be another way." Sam added, stepping forward.

"There is no other way. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn't. I made a promise." I pointed out. Sam seemed to understand. He was young, he would learn. If I bothered to give him the time of day after this. The whole human thing was getting nauseating all over again. My patience was thin. Kill it but don't kill her, find out but don't hurt anyone. No wonder they all seemed so perplexed all the time.

"What's a Lormorian?" Asked Patrick. He didn't even know why he was on the hit list. Shame. Not everyone believed in letting people know you were coming as I did. I thought it helped to give me a sporting fight, and it seemed only fair. If I took a life, they knew it – no surprises. I didn't like surprises.

"Doesn't matter. Big nasty thing in the dark that sent this thing to such the very life from your body...one of many." I lifted the woman's head again, readying to finish what I started.

"No please. Patrick, help me." It pleaded in her voice.

"Let her go." Demanded Patrick, powering up again.

I was out of patience. I threw the knife I held and it hit him at the soft spot between the eyes. Sam smashed his fist into the door, and stomped out. I turned my attention to the Leech, picked up a piece of the broken mirror and finished what I started.

It was a wonder the neighbors hadn't called the authorities but it seemed we were home free and I had kept my promise. They were safe, I had helped them, and I was going to be on my way. It had occurred to me that maybe I should take Sam with me. He was so close to breaking it was delightful. Then again, I had made a deal, and a deal was a deal for me after all. I cleaned my blade as I contemplated where to go next. There was a warring faction building an army of souls through a cult in Istanbul. That could be fun – cleaning that up. Then again, it was cold this time of year, and I did prefer the heat. There was a prodigy child coming in to his years of fame down in Mexico. I had intended to go do some mentoring. Then again, I would have to move on my own to do the Mexico job – mentoring aside, whereas if I took the cult one I would have lots of company until it all went pear shaped and I had to wipe them out. Maybe I could ask them to come with me. That would solve the problem of company. I doubted Sam would say yes – he had looked petrified when I had tried to kiss him earlier at the motel. Sabian might, but then, he was probably more useful where he was now. I would have to work on them both some more before they would be ready to spend any kind of real time with me. As I downed the stairs I made the final decision that I would make time for the two of them after the next job, which would definitely be the cult.

As I emerged in to the living room, I spied Sam and Sabian who stood on the other side of the French doors, in the enclosed entertaining area. They both wore anguished expressions. Yes, I would definitely make more time to teach them the skills and strength to make them valuable assets to me. I smiled as I strode towards them, and that's when I felt the burning inside me. Like a familiar flame, drawn up through my intestines, incinerating my capacity to move or think clearly. I had only just passed the entranceway, and I was overcome, falling to the ground where I saw the markings.

Bastards had done more than their fair share of homework. I looked down to find a thick line of copper nails set in the ground, in the shape of a circle around me. I had been so busy being pleased with myself and planning I had missed it. The ground was scattered with rock salt as well. It burned my knees and hands as I was sprawled, immobilised on the floor. I looked around. Four clear quartz crystals marked points of reference and a blessed banishing candle burned at the wall behind me, out of sight of the doorway until you were through it. I should have smelled the Tibetan oil, but then the last time I smelt it had been over 400 years ago. The candle rested, not surprisingly, on a candle holder next to the damned mirror box. I wished that had been something I had recalled when I had lost my memory – or at least if I had retained enough healthy fear of the thing I might have at least destroyed it when I had the chance. The shop owner I killed must have already sent it back to Sabian by the time I made it there. I wondered if Sabian had known when I had questioned him about it the last day I saw him.

What angle I played would determine my fate at this stage. I decided to approach gently. "I can't believe you are doing this to me? Why? I helped you. Please Sabian. You can let me go, don't worry about Sam. He doesn't think like us. Let me go, and we can spend some real time with me. I had thought I saw a flicker of something promising until Sam Spoke.

"Rachael, it was Sabian's idea. All of this." Here was a side of Sam I would have liked to have seen earlier – without me at the centre of it all however.

"Was it now?! Clever Sabian." I came back. "And here I thought it was you wearing wrath so beautifully Sam. Shame."

Sam produced the Stiletto blade from his sleeve. Maybe gently wasn't the best approach. Anger grew in me so I ran with it.

"You let me go Samuel." I roared. "Or I am coming for you, your sister, and anyone I think I've seen you cast a fond eye over since you opened your beady little human eyes!"

Sabian finally spoke. "Rachael – there's no point. It's done."

"It is not done. Neither of you have the guts. You know what I'll do to you if you don't let me go." I protested.

"We know what you'll do if we let you go now too." Sabian added.

"No. Wait." Sam said stooping down to me. "What is it you are going to offer me? Offer us?"

"What do you mean Sam, you can't be blackmailing me?" I said surprised at the turn. Maybe there was a way out.

"No, but it's the next stage in the grief cycle. Shock, Denial, Anger, and now Bargaining. Depression is next, so if you feel the urge to slit your own wrists, don't let me stop you."

I growled in response to Sam's taunting. Forget breaking him, turning him. I was going to flay him alive when I got the chance.

"Last chance to change your mind." I gritted, knowing I had no aces up my sleeve.

Sam stood up again and moved to my right side. I watched him carefully. "You can say anything you want, but we have been running through this for a very long time. So in the interest of being transparent – I know you appreciate that - I'll let you know what our plans are. I'm going to stick this in your neck, release you from Rachael's body... then Sabian is going to bury you in the foundations of a brand new skyscraper that hasn't a chance of being knocked down for 1000 fucking years." Sam played with the Stiletto blade as he spoke. He reached down and took grasp of the back of my hair and moved my head so my neck was clear. He raised the blade.

Knowing there was little else I could do, I played to my strengths. Divide and conquer – hopefully. "Would this be the same Sabian that helped me stash 2 bodies off a pier earlier this year. Is that the Sabian that you know so well?"

Sam froze his hand snapped his head back to look at Sabian. "She's lying Sam. She's desperate." I smiled to myself. Lying to save himself, Sabian was a changed man. I looked at his face, his serious, and stoic expression, unphased by his deceit. I saw myself reflected back in his eyes. I thought I saw Sabian smile back at me before he turned back to Sam before he said the words. "Sam. Finish it....."

#  Post Script......Sabian

I sat across from Natasha nervous about seeing her after all this time. She had agreed to meet with me at a park outside one of the new hotels she was building in the states. It was going to be a small venture, but one that reeked of old-time decadence and historic theme. Even though we had barely spoken since the divorce had become final, I had never lost an opportunity to discuss her with a mutual friend, a known contact. I missed her badly, and even though I think part of me had always suspected that we wouldn't always have been able to get along, that we would eventually have grown apart, I regretted that it had actually happened. I had wished for a long time to find a way to make amends, and have it so we could be together again, inspired by each other again. When her car had pulled up and dropped her off before leaving to give us our privacy I had stood to great her, putting the gift I had brought for her down on the ledge of the fountain I had been sitting on while waiting for her. When she arrived, I was heartened that she actually gave me a hug, before looking me over. She still looked amazing.

"Thank you for seeing me." I extended as she smoothed the back of her dark blue dress to sit on the fountain ledge.

"That's fine Sabian. It's good to see you after so long. I think it would be good if we kept in touch you know. I realise I didn't respond to your messages or emails before, but I wasn't in a place where I could do that then. You understand?" Her delicate features and smooth voice soothed me further.

At the risk of coming on too strong, I wanted to be transparent with her. "I know.....I really needed to see you. I miss you Natasha."

Her eyes narrowed and she gave me a sympathetic but distant look. "I...miss you too, but you know I have set up on my own now. I have a space of my own, new friends." Natasha was pointing out there was nothing further happening here than a meeting of friends.

Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, I lied. For the best of course. "I'm not intending to influence you in to doing anything you don't want to."

Seeming to relax again, Natasha smiled "Alright," She nodded and leaned back a little on the ledge. "OK. Have you been well? You look much better than last time I saw you. I was...worried you know. Especially after speaking with Gavin with all the stuff he was saying about delusions.... And when you didn't come to pick up your things and I had to meet you at the hospital. You looked so...."

"I was going through a rough time, wasn't sure what was real, what was not." I acknowledged for her. Surprisingly she took my hand with one of hers.

"What we went through was difficult. It was hard to process, how close we came to being killed. Losing Amber that was just horrifying. I am glad you are doing better." When I looked down at her hand resting over mine she immediately withdrew it as though regretting that she might send me the wrong message.

I decided now was the time to help change the subject to something a little more suitable and comfortable for both of us about the future. Taking a deep breath and encouraging myself to beam at her by focusing on how good I knew things would be in just a short time from now, I brought out the velvet bag from behind me and handed it to her. "I brought you something for old times sake Natasha. No obligation, just me, thinking of you. "She dusted her hands off from the grit on the fountain and took it, looking at me curiously. "Open it." I urged.

Natasha put the bag on her lap and slid out the contents. The mirror box. Sans Stiletto blade of course.

"It's lovely. It looks very old." She remarked.

"It is. You should look inside....it's an incredible work of craftsmanship."

"Thank you Sab." Natasha gushed, legitimately touched. I forced my smile somewhat.

"Just a token...." I enthused. Any part of me that felt bad, was appeased by the fact that the result would be enough for me to live with.

Natasha opened the lid and the light reflected off the mirrors within. Within just a millisecond, I heard a screech like a banshee, and Natasha's eyes went white. I knew then Rachael was finally with me again.

The End

