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by
(Posted 08-15-98)
Chapter Sixteen
Each night he tried to figure out how it worked. But if he ever had, apparently he forgot when he awoke. Because that was how he went back and forth. Fall asleep in Cascade, wake up in Louisiana. Fall asleep in the bayou, wake up in the loft. It was crazy. He knew that and on occasion he worried about himself. But mainly the one he worried about was the one with the answers. And she wasn't sharing.
Usually when he arrived, materialized, coalesced, or whatever the hell he did to end up in the tiny shack, there was only one heartbeat present. But tonight there were several, not in the shack but in the area surrounding it. "What's going on?" he asked quickly, heading toward the hole in the wall that supposedly was a window. As soon as he focused, he wished he could take the question back. From the grunts and groans, laughter and moans, it was obvious what was occurring.
"They are preparing," she said flatly.
"For?"
"Me."
He bowed his head, his fingernails boring holes into his palms as he fought for control. He had failed. The realization was something he felt in every inch of his body. He would probably continue to beg her to let him help, probably up to the moment she died. But the end would always be the same. Could he do this? Every time some unknown innocent died under his watch, he felt his soul bleeding. How would he survive when the innocent was known... and loved? But that would be his burden to bear, not hers.
The fingers uncurling, he pasted on a smile and went to her.
*****
"Where are your handsome friends?" Shelly Thomas asked her fellow detectives as she settled behind her desk. The break room, her first stop when she came on duty, had been buzzing about the visitors. Their impromptu scene was related to her word for word. And, in the female contingency's opinion, the captain hadn't been far from the truth; they were darn cute.
"Happily married for all of what, five months, Detective Thomas?" Mike asked dryly.
"Just because there's a ring on my finger doesn't mean I suddenly went blind. Besides, I'm only window-shopping. I'm not planning on buying or even sampling the wares," she protested.
"I've been told ladies window-shop when they're bored."
Shelly gave Mike a dark look. "I'm not in need of your marriage counseling skills today, Mike. I just asked a simple question."
"They went to get something to eat," Joey answered, trying to soothe the tension between the two. As if there wasn't enough to be tense about. Something had happened in that interrogation room and although he had been there, he had no idea of what it was. Their guests had left nearly three hours ago and hadn't returned or even called in.
"The desk sergeant said they seemed to be moving in a hurry." The good thing about cops and gossip-- they never forgot the details.
"Low blood sugar," Joey mumbled.
"What?"
"He said one of them had low blood sugar, hence the rush for food. A sleepless night plus irregular meals. It happens," Mike pointed out, his irritation obvious. Where the hell were they? There had already been an attempt, no, according to Ellison, two attempts on their lives.
"Probably Sandburg," Shelly said distractedly as she visualized the long dark curls. "He looks like he's high-maintenance. Speaking of Mr. Cute and Cuddly..."
Mike and Joey turned to see Blair heading toward them. As he came closer, they could tell he was brimming with excitement, a curious vibration seemingly running through him from head to toe. "Hi guys," he said with a quick grin. "Jim and Captain Banks haven't gotten back yet?"
"You separated?" Mike asked angrily. "Whose bright idea was that?"
"Ours. You got a problem with it?" Jim asked as he and Simon entered the squad room.
"You're targets for some very powerful people."
"We know that. But we can't let that hamper our investigation, can we?" Simon intervened. "Sandburg, I don't even have to ask how your assignment went. You're bouncing."
"Am not," Blair said out of habit.
"Are too. You examine his shoes like I asked you to, Jim?"
"Yes, sir. Not a spring in sight. It's, uh, natural, sir," he replied with a wry grin. Everything was finally coming together. Maybe, just maybe, he was close to getting retribution for Alicia. How had she put it? There would be a reckoning.
"Well, whatever it is, it needs to be turned off and the only way to do that is to debrief him. You gentlemen ready for dinner?" Simon asked.
"I thought when you left you were going to get something to eat?" Shelly asked suspiciously.
"That was three hours ago," Simon said and patted Blair on the shoulder. "He's still a growing boy."
Shelly smirked in her co-workers direction. She had apparently pegged the weak link correctly. Mike ignored her and started clearing his desk, locking up a few of the papers he'd been going through. The visitors were obviously having a trust issue with the department and he didn't blame them. Besides, it had been a while since his last meal. "You wanna go back to T'Dette's?"
"We were thinking more along the lines of the Garden District," Jim said as they exited the station.
Mike shrugged. If the detective got stuck in one of the noisy touristy places, he wasn't to blame. "One car or two?"
"One." They led the NOPD officers to a dark blue Cherokee Grand Laredo.
"You got a new rental," Joey said, eyeing the sports utility vehicle appreciatively. He had always wanted a Jeep.
"It's functional and blends," Jim said offhandedly. The four-wheel drive would probably come in handy later in the night.
Simon and Jim got in up front and Blair found himself stuck in the middle of the backseat. At least it was bigger than the frontseat of Jim's Ford truck back home. And definitely more comfortable. Why, it even had shock absorbers!
"Say one thing about my truck and you're walking back to Cascade," Jim threatened, easily reading his partner's mind. "Now, tell us what you found."
He started to reach for his backpack but figured he had all the pertinent details memorized. "Helaire Battiste was born in 1958 to Jeannette and Harold Battiste. Harold marrying Jeannette was scandalous because not only couldn't Jeannette's heritage match his but there were rumors she was a Voodoo priestess. And I do mean voodoo. There were certain horror stories Harold had immediately squashed following his marriage. However, when their daughter was born ten years later, no one had anything bad to say about Jeannette."
"So Jeannette and Harold married in '48. The same year as the first sacrifice," Simon said, catching on quickly.
"Exactly."
"Exactly what?" Mike said, tired of being in the dark. Apparently, this quick social history of New Orleans' leading families was heading somewhere, but where?
Blair ignored him. "Jeannette died in 1982. Six months later, Helaire married Edouard Delacroix. Four years after that Alicia was born."
"Damn," Jim swore from the passenger's seat. "She was not only atoning for the sins of her mother, but her grandmother as well."
"Someone either tell us what's going on or take out your guns and shoot us," Mike declared angrily.
"La Societe de Sang was founded by Jeannette Battiste. When she died, it was taken over by her daughter Helaire, soon to be Helaire Delacroix," Blair explained before violence could erupt.
Mike shook his head. "No. No way I'm going to believe that Helaire Delacroix is responsible for her daughter's death. She was the one who insisted her husband report the girl's disappearance. She was a total wreck when we interviewed her."
"Not a total wreck, Mike," Joey said hesitantly, remembering the visit to the house. "I mean in front of her husband, she was crying and all, but when we went upstairs to Alicia's room to see if anything was missing, like maybe she had run away, the woman was... cool. I thought maybe that was her way of coping, of not breaking down in front of a perfect stranger."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" Mike demanded. "I would have--"
"Found nothing," Jim supplied. "The Society has been covering up its actions for fifty years. If Helaire wanted you to believe she was the heartbroken mother, then that's exactly what you would have seen."
"But she can't blind you?"
"She couldn't blind her own daughter."
Mike stirred uneasily. He'd forgotten Ellison's unique approach to the investigation. "No disrespect, man, but we can't exactly go to the commissioner with your kind of evidence."
"That's why we're working on more tangible proof. That's why we have Sandburg's research and our eventual stake out at the Delacroix house."
"Dinner in the Garden District, huh?" Dinner would probably consist of something in a small white bag and plenty cups of coffee downed in the Jeep. "If she's a smart as you say she is, why do you think you're going to get something on her?"
"She made plans for a meet tonight."
"Alicia tell you that?"
"No," Jim said with a grin. "A little birdie."
"You people travel with your own equipment?" Mike asked, knowing they hadn't requested any surveillance equipment from the department. Sure they had carte blanche, but a tap required a court order. He eyed Sandburg's pack suspiciously.
"We like being prepared," Jim said curtly.
"You guys aren't like any cops I know," Joey said softly.
Simon laughed. "I've been telling them that for years."
Chapter Seventeen
"Jim, we need to talk."
"We haven't been?" he asked flippantly as he walked away from the bed. He knew she wanted to talk about her death and he wasn't ready to face that yet-- not without scaring her with his anger anyway.
"I have certain abilities."
"That is why they want you."
"You are not curious why they choose little girls?"
Of course she was willing to tell her secrets when he had decided not to listen. She *was *a witch-- but just the irritating type, like Sandburg. He walked back toward her and sat down on the dirt floor. "Enlighten me."
She smiled. Her mother had been right for once; men were easy to manipulate. Too bad she wouldn't live long enough to try with someone else. "My talents are undefined. I can reasonably see what my future holds but if I had lived--"
"You're not dead yet," he denoted bitterly.
"If I was going to live for several more years," she amended, "I probably would have found other things I could do. Both males and females of our kind are born with these powers but they don't manifest fully until we mature. Until then, there is an energy in us that builds as we age and that energy will fuel our gifts for as long as we live. This group chooses girls because we mature faster, which means that our energy hits its peak earlier, while we are young enough that we are no danger to them. It is the energy, moreso than the power, that they feed upon. Whatever talents they themselves have are enhanced, strengthened until the next sacrifice."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because you yourself have talents. You are the Sentinel."
"I am the Sentinel," he concurred.
"I will give you my power, my energy. Your talents will be enhanced, strengthened."
"In order to make them pay."
She thought about what she had learned about him and wisely kept the rest of it to herself. "So you freely accept what I am giving you?"
"Yes."
She leaned over the bed and placed her forehead against his. "We are bound while I live. When I die, all that is within me to give, you will receive. This is a vow that is irrevocable. Upon all that is sacred, this is my decree." She tried to move back before she drowned him in her tears, but he moved with her and she ended up burying her head against his neck.
As she opened tear-filled eyes and stared at the shifting shadows on the walls, she wondered if he would ever forgive her for her betrayal.
*****
Blair dumped the contents of the tray in the trashcan, careful not to get in Jim's line of sight. Instead of eating in the car, they had found a takeout place with patio seating a block away from the Delacroix mansion. While Simon distracted the others with food and talk, Jim and Blair had set up surveillance. With Blair's help the Sentinel had focused his hearing enough to hear Edouard's voice and capture the tones of the woman he was speaking with. Helaire. And of course, his eyes were fixated on the garage.
Blair cringed whenever he thought of Helaire. He knew every woman in the world wasn't meant to be a mother. He was aware that some women were jealous of their daughters and that others sold their daughters for money, drugs... But what was Helaire's motivation? Power? Surely Alicia wasn't the only child psychic in the area. Why soil your own house? Why destroy your natural successor? Was it mere jealousy then?
"Don't try." He looked up to find blue eyes sadly regarding his own. "Don't try to understand her, Chief. You can't."
"What will happen tonight?" he asked, not questioning how his partner knew what he was thinking. That was the way it was between them sometimes. In times of stress they often read each other's thoughts. It made for handy teamwork when danger loomed.
"I don't know. Insight, premonitions, those talents belong to Alicia, Grandmere, even T'Dette. I'm just a mere Sentinel. You're the Shaman, Chief. What do you feel is going to happen?"
Blair closed his eyes and sought the spiritual side of his personality that he was usually content to ignore-- no, ignore was the wrong word-- disregard unless it dealt directly with the Sentinel, which this did. In an ideal situation, he would have dragged out his incense, meditated with candles and soft music. But hey, he was flexible. If his Sentinel needed the information on the fly... "Darkness awaits. No big surprise there. Treachery from a woman..." He opened his eyes and grinned. "Maybe it's an old recording," he said with a shrug.
"And maybe we've been doing this too long," Jim replied before focusing intently on the mansion. "Get ready to roll, Chief."
They piled into the car, Jim behind the wheel, Blair riding shotgun, and Joey getting stuck in the middle of the backseat. Jim started the Jeep and they all watched as the garage door opened and Helaire's Mercedes backed out. When Jim didn't immediately follow, all eyes fell on him. Then they realized the garage door that had been heading downward was going up again.
"What's going on?" Simon asked.
Jim tapped the steering wheel angrily. "Edouard is going to tail her himself. Complicate my life, why don't you, Edouard?"
"Does he suspect she's..." Blair inquired.
His partner shook his head. "He's worried about her. Thinks she's going to do something rash. He wants to save her." He could hear Alicia's father muttering to himself as he followed his wife's car. The Jeep pulled in a safe distance behind both.
"You got something to latch onto?" Blair questioned as the traffic thickened.
"Edouard is listening to an opera CD."
"Working and getting a lesson in culture," Blair teased. "You are a Renaissance man, aren't you, big guy?"
"Sandburg, this case is going to be over soon. We're going to be at home and I'm going to get bored. Next thing you know, I'm going to remember this trip. And I'm going to get even." Although the cars disappeared as he got caught by a traffic light, he easily tracked the CD.
"Simon, you heard that, didn't you? Anything happen to me, it's premeditated."
"Sandburg, I'm doing some premeditating of my own," came the reply.
"Oooh, the two big cops ganging up on the poor pitiful observer," Blair whined dramatically.
"Jim," the captain said.
"Twenty to life," the detective reminded him.
"Even with my sterling background?"
"Good point."
"What's next for you two? An HBO Special? Guest hosting Saturday Night Live?" Blair said, rolling his eyes at their pathetic attempt at humor.
"Sandburg, shut up!" the older men chorused.
Peace reigned for twenty minutes as they headed into southern Louisiana just like yesterday. Then Blair noticed Jim wasn't frowning anymore. "The opera CD finished?"
Jim nodded. "He went classical this time. Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. One of my favorites."
"Jim, you continually surprise me."
"Why, Chief? I'm not a complete rube, you know."
"I know that. You just play one on TV." He grinned at his partner.
Jim shared the smile. "I took a music appreciation class in high school. To tick off my dad." Simon laughed approvingly. William Ellison wasn't high on his "like" list. "You know it's a good thing we didn't grow up together, Simon. I fear you could have caused some serious damage in your day," Jim said, glancing into the rearview mirror at his friend.
"I never would have made it to your father's list of approved friends."
"I can't even make the list now," Blair griped. "But that's not going to stop us from having another dinner. I'm going to call Steven when we get home and see what we can arrange," he added, mentioning Jim's brother. Steven wasn't quite the lost cause William Ellison was, but Jim's family was still too splintered. In order to mend fences and ease conflict within the Sentinel, Blair had talked Jim into inviting his father over to the loft for dinner and Simon had been ordered to come too. However, thanks to a couple of misunderstandings, things hadn't ended as well as Blair had hoped.
"Gee, you think we can get Dad to believe Steven lives with us too?" Jim teased. "I mean he already thinks you and Simon are an item." William had jumped to the wrong conclusion when he learned Blair lived with his son. Jim and Simon, in their anger, had done nothing but made the situation worse.
"Keep this up and he's going to believe I'm the slut of Cascade."
"I could have sworn you already had that title, Sandburg," Simon rejoined.
Blair looked at the two men sharing the backseat with his captain. "Uh, you guys are ignoring all of this, right?" he asked belatedly. They had been so blatantly open with the southern detectives that it hadn't occurred to them to restrain themselves from their usual banter.
Mike nodded. "You're just working through the tension. We understand."
Joey turned his head toward his partner. "We do?" he mouthed silently.
Before Blair could further explain, the cars ahead turned off onto a small narrow road and Jim cut his headlights as he followed. Blair stretched his arm across the back of the bucket seats and grabbed Jim's shoulder, making sure the Sentinel was grounded as his sight pierced the darkness. "Shit," Jim cursed softly.
"Talk to me, big guy."
"Helaire has spotted Edouard. The idiot didn't turn off his lights. I knew he was going to be trouble."
"Is she going to stop and confront him?"
"No. She's on her cell phone, warning the others that he's behind her. She says she can handle him. I don't like the sound of that, Chief," Jim said. "I sort of promised Lici I'd look out for Edouard."
"And what promises did you make about Helaire?" Simon asked.
"Not a one." Jim pulled off the road and settled the Jeep between two trees. "The meeting point is just ahead."
"How many, Jim?" Blair rubbed the tense shoulder beneath his hand.
"Twelve, including Helaire and Edouard. But there's another car coming." Headlights flared in the darkness. "Two more."
"Thirteen hostiles and five of us. I don't like the odds, Jim," Simon calculated.
"Don't worry, captain. I'm not planning to storm the... Damn it! No way, you bitch!" The Jeep's door flew open.
Mike and Joey blinked in the sudden brightness afforded by the interior lights and by the time their eyes adjusted, the vehicle was dark again and they were alone.
Chapter Eighteen
"You don't like being a Sentinel?"
He looked down at the dark head as she bent over his hands. For some reason, they fascinated her. "In the beginning, maybe. I didn't like change and being a Sentinel meant changes."
"How? You were a soldier. You are a cop. Isn't a Sentinel both?"
"Yes, but... I had to take on a partner for one thing. My Guide."
"Who turned out to be your best friend, your brother of the heart."
"But I didn't know that was the way it was going to be. I was used to working alone."
"You were used to *being* alone."
"That too. I also had to learn how to control the senses. It's not easy."
"Nothing worthwhile is. But now you like being a Sentinel?"
His nose wrinkled in thought. "I don't dislike being a Sentinel. I've gotten used to what I can do. But there are still too many changes."
"Such as?"
"Such as you. You are a new experience for me."
"I make you nervous," she said matter-of-factly.
"You scare the hell out of me," he replied honestly. "The only reason I haven't fallen apart is that I don't remember you when I awake."
"You don't fall apart," she chastised. "The ghosts were a new experience also and you survived them quite nicely."
"Sure. If that's the version you heard, fine. What is so fascinating about my hands?" he finally asked, the curiosity too much for him.
"Your life is written upon them."
He paled and jerked his hands away from her. "Forget I asked."
"You cannot hide from your future."
"But I can walk into it blindfolded," he countered.
She laughed and reached for his hand again, knowing he wouldn't deny her. Her fingers brushed upon their larger counterparts. "Don't worry. I can only read some of it. Enough to envy you. You have good friends, Jim Ellison."
He rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. "In both worlds, Alicia Delacroix. In both worlds."
*****
"You shouldn't have come, Edouard," Helaire Delacroix said as her husband stepped out of his car.
"I was... worried about you, Helaire. You've been so distraught. I didn't trust you not to do anything foolish." Belatedly he looked around, noticing they were in a clearing in the middle of nowhere and that they weren't alone. Several people stood around them, normally clothed but wearing masks. "What the hell is going on? Who are these people, Helaire?"
"Go home, Edouard," she replied.
His eyes narrowed in recognition. "These are your mother's followers, aren't they? I thought that sick little cult disbanded after her death. Why are they here? Why are you?" he demanded angrily.
Helaire suddenly changed. A slump came to her proud shoulders and a tremor marred her powerful voice. "They're going to help me bring our Lici back," she said, letting the light of a small fire reflect in the tears in her eyes.
"Non, my love. Don't do this to yourself. Lici's gone. There's nothing anyone can do to bring her back. Certainly not these charlatans. Let's go home, Helaire."
"Please," she begged, her manicured nails digging into his arm. "We have to try. You loved Alicia, Eddie, I know you did. If there's a chance we can get her back, we should try."
Edouard sighed. Anything to get out of this godforsaken swamp and back to civilization. "What did they tell you they could do?"
"It's an ancient ritual," she said, draping her arm around his neck. "It requires the blood of a relative. I'm willing to give up everything to have our daughter back, Eddie. Are you?"
Despite the warm humidity that still weighted the air, he felt a shiver crawl along the length of his spine. "This is insane," he said, willing old superstitions back to his childhood ignorance where they belonged. "Get in the car, Helaire. I'll have someone come for yours in the morning."
"No!" Her arm tightened around his neck and a fingernail pricked his skin, allowing the powder beneath the nail to enter his body. She stroked his throat, spreading the drug, until she felt him relaxing. "You are a weak, pathetic fool, Edouard Delacroix, but perhaps your blood can bind me to my people once more and we can deal with the enemy who threatens to destroy us."
"Too damn late for that, Helaire." Helaire and her minions gasped as Jim walked into the light. "Step away from her, Edouard."
Helaire recovered quickly, ordering her husband to stay where he was. She looked closely at the man who had dared to interrupt her. Even in the faint firelight, the blue of his eyes was distinguishable. "I take it you're l'ange, the pet angel Eddie has been babbling about?"
Jim smiled. "Believe me, Helaire. I'm no angel."
"Then what are you?"
"The man who knows who you are." He noted that the other Society members were making no predatory moves against him. Maybe the control she had over them was waning without the annual sacrifice.
"And just who am I?"
"The drinker of blood. The rapist of children. The killer of her daughter. Yeah, Helaire. I think I have a pretty good idea of the bitch behind the mask," Jim said dryly.
"No," Edouard cried out as Jim recited the charges, the shock of the words freeing him from the mild sedative/hallucinogen she'd given him. "Non. She's not... She couldn't... You have been mislead."
Jim's eyes bore into Edouard's, forcing him to see the truth. "No, you are the one who was mislead, my friend. Your mother-in-law founded La Societe de Sang. Your wife took over it after Jeannette's death. Together, they are responsible for hundreds of deaths, including the murder of fifty young girls. Including Alicia. Less than fifty yards from this clearing is the shack she was held in, chained to iron hoops embedded in the ground. Next to that shack is the stone slab where she was raped. That rock was the site of her death as well!"
"But she is her maman."
"And that is the only reason she is still alive. Walk away from her, Edouard."
"No!" Her hand whipped forward to reveal the stone dagger which she poised over her husband's heart. "Leave now, angel. Ascend into heaven, disappear in a puff of smoke, catch a Greyhound bus for all I care. Just leave here or he dies!"
Jim shook his head. "I'm not going to allow you to hurt him."
"Allow me? Do you know to whom you are speaking? Do you know the power I control?" Her eyes glittered evilly. "I will hurt Edouard and whoever else who gets in my way."
"I don't think so, ma'am," Simon said politely as he came out from behind a tree, his weapon aimed, Blair slightly behind him. "Drop the knife, please."
She laughed. "One little gun can't kill us all."
"But three little guns can do quite a bit of damage," Mike said as he and Joey joined the party.
Jim smiled, but didn't take his eyes off Helaire. "My good friends from the NOPD. Tell me, is there anyone here you recognize?"
A man behind her sighed and stepped forward. "It's time to give it up, Helaire. No one here wants to be responsible for the death of one cop, much less five of them. Even with the power of a sacrifice, that would be foolishness of the highest order. And we've all been subjected to enough of that."
"Well said, Commissioner Tizzoner," Mike congratulated and the man reached up and removed his mask. "Doesn't mean you won't be prosecuted for murder, rape, and whatever other various charges I can come up with."
"We were doomed from the very moment Alicia was chosen," another man said, before taking off his mask. "It felt wrong."
"And the other murders didn't, chief?" Joey asked in disbelief. A soon as he'd seen the Police Commissioner he knew the Chief of Police wouldn't be far behind, but that did nothing to lessen the sense of disappointment.
"The gig is up, people!" Mike called out angrily. These were people he had trusted, had emulated, had defended when others had their doubts. "Everyone, take off those masks and place your hands on top of your heads! Y'all under arrest. Y'all have the right to remain silent--"
"You seem to be forgetting one thing, detective," Helaire interrupted. "I still have a hostage."
"Now you do," Jim began. He looked at the dagger and the mambo screamed as the knife glowed a dangerous red. She dropped the weapon and grabbed her burning hand. "And now you don't. Walk away from her, Edouard."
"She killed ma bebe!" Edouard yelled and bent down to pick up the dagger. "She must pay!" He raised the weapon high to plunge into her breast.
"And she will, Edouard," Jim promised, not wanting to hurt Alicia's father but knowing he would if he had to. "But we can't answer wrong with wrong. Alicia would not want that. She's expecting you to be with her one day. But you won't be. Not if you have Helaire's blood on your hands."
The dagger wavered as Jim's words warred with Edouard's need for revenge. With a scream born of rage that had been thwarted, he spiked the dagger to the ground. "Not even you are worth eternal banishment from my daughter," he said, spitting on her before going to Jim's side. "She's all yours, detective."
"Helaire Battiste Delacroix, you are under arrest for sexual abuse, sexual battery, kidnaping, murder..." Jim paused, shaking his head. "Damn. This can get monotonous, can't it? Tell you what? You know your crimes better than I do, so you just fill in the rest of spaces silently, all right? Now, put your hands on your head and one of my friends here will frisk you for whatever else you might be hiding."
"Frisk this!" There was a flash, then a puff of smoke. "I will not forget nor forgive the betrayals that have occurred this night!"
The smoke cleared and she was gone.
Chapter Nineteen
"Can I tell you a secret?"
Her voice startled him because he thought she was asleep. Her breathing had been steady, her pulse calm and even. "You can tell me anything."
"I have a wish list."
"Things you wish for?"
"Things I wish I'd had a chance to do."
She could probably feel the increase in his heartbeat but there was nothing he could do about that. Talk of her impending death always upset him. "Tell them to me," he said softly.
"Well, I wish I could have gone to my senior prom."
He frowned. She would have to go that far back. With effort, he traversed several black voids and swept away a pile of cobwebs to find that memory. Ah, there it was. What a godawful pale blue tux.
"She's pretty."
The girl he was with. He couldn't even remember her name. "Her father was a business associate of my dad's. It was sort of arranged. Neither of us were happy about it. Next request, please."
"Graduation."
Just a step from the prom. The platform set up in the middle of the stadium. An actual rain-free day in Cascade. Black, silk-like gowns with the matching mortar boards tilted and angled in all directions. The valedictorian rambling about being sad leaving the school years and possibly Cascade behind. Sad wasn't exactly the word he would have used. How about happy, excited, relieved... His name being called, a football teammate shouting out something almost vulgar. The absence of a flashbulb going off. The old man couldn't make it that night. But it wasn't like he was the val or anything, right?
A hand patted his sympathetically. "How about travel?"
He closed the lid on those years and skirted the voids once again. "Sure, sweetheart. Where would you like to go?" She shrugged. "How about Rome?" His first leave. If he'd known the city was so pretty, he may have listened better in history class. "Or maybe Paris?" He showed her the tourist attractions he had visited, leaving out the hotel room where he'd spent most of his time with a very creative young woman.
"Wedding?"
Not a bad memory. Sure, they had ended up divorced but it had been disgustingly amicable. He just hadn't been able to give Carolyn what she needed. She was happy now and that was what really mattered.
"You're happy too."
"I am," he agreed. "Anything else on this list of yours?"
"Can you tell me about being a mama?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, sweetheart, you'll have to think of your own mother for that one."
He felt the small body tense and then just as suddenly, she relaxed. "You're lying."
"I beg your pardon?" A vision of him wiping Blair's face with a cool cloth. Another with him shoving his roommate's arm into a jacket. Still another as he sat beside a hospital bed and waited for blue eyes to open. "I'm not his mama."
"You love him. You take care of him. You worry about him. What does a good mother do that you don't?"
"I don't know." He had nothing to compare his actions to. His mom hadn't stayed around long enough for him to take notes.
"I think you make a good mother. Thank you for helping me with my list."
"Did we complete it?"
"There was just one thing left. I had hoped to see Simba's Pride, the sequel to The Lion King but the video isn't out yet."
"The sequel to The Lion King? Is that one of those Disney movies?"
"You've never seen The Lion King? Well, it's all about..." In an animated voice, she began the tale and for the first time since he'd met her, she sounded like the kid she was.
It was enough to make a grown man cry.
*****
"Jim! You alright, man? How are your eyes?" Blair asked quickly, knowing the flash of light could have blinded the Sentinel.
"They're fine, Chief. Just give me a minute to adjust..." His voice trailed off as he attempted to find Helaire through the smoke. "What the hell?"
As usual, he upped his sight from normal to enhanced but this time it went one step further and suddenly instead of the people, plants, and animals surrounding him, he registered their heat signatures. Objects became glowing forms, their movements traced as fading lights. He was seeing in the infrared spectrum? Holy... Your talents will be enhanced, strengthened. Was this what Alicia had meant? He stumbled backward, his mind confused by the images and slow to interpret them. He tried to adjust his sight back to normal, but the imaginary dial broke off in his hand.
"Jim? What is it?" Blair questioned urgently. "Talk to me, man!"
"I--" He scanned the area, trying to equate the blurred, colorful images to what he knew. That blob had to be a tree. And that was probably a man. And that... Colors streaked in a pattern through what he'd figured out to be the thick overgrowth of the swampy bayou. Helaire! "I have to go after her." He started off in her direction, then noticed the glowing form at his side.
"You stay here, Chief."
"Jim, you need--"
"Yes, I need your help, Chief. That's why I want you to stay here, safe and sound. Because when I get back, I'm afraid it's going to take all your skills to help me with this one."
Blair looked at him worriedly, noticing how his eyes failed to focus properly. "What exactly is 'this one'?"
"I'll explain later. Helaire is getting away." He took a step and Blair's hand held him back. "Chief, please."
Blair pulled off the gris-gris amulet Jim had given him earlier and transferred it back to the owner. Then he placed his hand over his partner's heart for just a second. "Go get her, Sentinel."
Jim nodded and jogged to where he saw the colors he attributed to Helaire's movements. Shifting into the stealth mode which he'd used during jungle maneuvers, he slipped through the flora, bypassed the fauna, and tracked the murderess as she fled. As the colors intensified, he realized his prey was just up ahead. He could hear her muttering to herself as she tried to decide which way to go.
"Try directly to jail, bypassing Go and forfeiting the two hundred bucks," he said acerbically, standing directly behind her.
"How?" she asked breathlessly as she jerked around.
"What? You missed the sign around my neck earlier?" He grinned and traced letters on his chest as he spoke. "Will Hunt Murderers For Food. The pay ain't half bad and it can be quite entertaining."
"You have the heart and mind of a predator," she said as she subtly backed away.
"Thanks for the compliment." The streaking of the light told him she was moving. "You have no where to go, Helaire. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. But the outcome will be the same," he warned.
"I always like it hard," she said silkenly. With that, she flung something in his direction.
He watched the powder float toward him, each individual grain warmed by her hand and therefore visible to him. He stepped out of its way. "I think I can accommodate you, Helaire. You want hard, you got it."
He followed her easily and was just considering how much force he should use to bring her down, when he heard her trip, curse, then splash. "Helaire!" he yelled, avoiding the cypress root that had been her undoing. The part where her foot had peeled back the bark glowed a different color.
He heard the water, more than saw it. The shifting colors of the moving bayou and the life that darted over and beneath its surface was too much to look at. "Damn it! Where are you, Helaire!" He listened for her heartbeat. Finally he found it, muffled by the water around it. Closing his eyes, he waded into the bayou, keeping his hands stretched in front of him as he sought the heat of her body. Instead, he felt the vibration of something else entering the water. Shit. He didn't have to open his eyes to know what had happened. Guess this gator didn't get the memo. Now what the hell was he supposed to do?
His hands touched something in front of him. Helaire. Maybe he could get both of them out of the water before... The vibrations grew stronger. With one hand he hoisted Helaire out of the water and with the other he reached around behind him and drew his gun from the holster in the small of his back. Thankfully the water had remained shallow and hadn't reached his waist.
Backing away carefully, he risked opening his eyes and was horrified by the blur of color heading toward him. He fired again and again until the clip was empty, yet the thing continued coming. He looked at the useless weapon in his hand in confusion, the barrel red from the repeated firing. What was wrong? Was his sight so screwed up that he had missed the alligator altogether? Or maybe the gun had misfired. He hadn't used it since before leaving Cascade, hadn't even drawn it since showing it to airport security. He frowned at the realization. He hadn't pulled it when Edouard had pointed a gun in the interrogation room. Nor when Simon's room exploded and they knew someone was after them. Nor even when he confronted Helaire and her followers. Why then was he relying on it now? He closed his eyes and surrendered himself to greater powers.
Jim continued his backward movement and dragged himself and Helaire to firmer ground, ignoring the roar of the coming beast. Its mouth opened wide as it lurched for what appeared to be the beginning of a two-course dinner. Then it met a resistance so strong that the animal was flung back across the stream, flipping tail over snout, and landing hard on its back not far from its original starting point. After struggling to flip itself over to its feet, the alligator humbly moved to another part of the bayou. Apparently this territory was taken.
Jim noticed none of this however, for as his feet touched solid ground he realized Helaire wasn't breathing. Hurriedly, he began CPR, not quitting until she coughed and threw up the foul water that had overloaded her system. "That's it, Helaire," he said, holding her on her side so that the water could pour out. "Just keep on breathing."
When she was finished, he moved her gently to her back and probed for other injuries she may have sustained when she fell. Her eyes opened slowly, confusion muddying the black depths as she recognized who was tending to her so tenderly. At that moment, she truly believed he was an angel and she crossed herself as exhaustion called her back to the realm of unconsciousness.
With a smile of satisfaction, he flung her over his shoulder and began the journey back to the clearing. "Sorry, Jeannette," he mumbled softly as he wended through the brush. "You and Hell can't have Helaire until I get through with her." And that was going to take a very long time.
Chapter Twenty
"Do you know who I am?"
"You are the Sentinel."
"My name is Jim Ellison."
"Does your name change who you are?"
He was too old to play word games with children. "I'm a cop, Alicia. I can help you."
"They told me the Sentinel would help me."
"Who, Alicia? Who told you to come to me?"
"Those on the other side."
He wiped his hand across his face. Ghosts again. Now they were giving out his business cards. How sweet of them. "You're going to cooperate so I can help, right?"
"You're already helping," she said. She looked up from his lap and straight into his eyes. She smiled, liking what she found there. "You are here."
He sighed, having no idea what kind of logic would appeal to a child. There had been workshops offered at the Police Academy and announced on the bulletin board at the station, but he had merely rolled his eyes and ignored the classes. He worked Major Crimes not juvenile. If he ended up with a child as a witness, someone with Social Services would team up with him, help him get through the interview. The only children he had ever worked with directly... had been dead ones.
"I know," she said, alerting him to the fact she could read his mind. "That makes me happy too."
"Why?" he asked somewhat harshly.
"Because if you and I become friends, I won't have to give you up when I die. You'll let me come visit, won't you?"
God, what innocence, he thought as he looked into the clear brown eyes. And what trust. It would take a far stronger man than he to deny her anything. "Yes, Alicia Delacroix. You can visit me anytime."
*****
"Jim!"
He deposited his burden onto the ground before the congregating blurs. "She's alive despite an unplanned dip into the bayou. You better have her checked out at a hospital though," Jim said. He closed his eyes as the blurs melded and shifted and basically caused his skin to crawl. Apparently someone had called for back up because there were more bodies than there should have been and several odd sets of stationary lights which he assumed were police vehicles.
"How are you, Jim?" Simon asked gruffly.
"I need Sandburg."
Blair and Simon exchanged glances. "I'm right here, Jim. I'm going to take your arm and guide you out of the way so we can have some privacy, okay?" Docilely, Jim followed Blair's lead and let his partner urge him to a seat on the ground. "Tell me what's wrong," Blair demanded softly.
Jim described what he was seeing, heard the Guide's heartbeat race as he listened, then even out as his quick mind sifted through solutions to his Sentinel's problem. "I'm sure you've tried the basics, just trying to see regularly or turning down the dial."
"The dial doesn't go that high, Chief. And yeah, I've really tried to convince my sight to return to the normal spectrum," Jim said in frustration.
"It's okay, Jim, we can handle this," Blair said with more assurance than he was feeling. "I think we're going to have to go high-tech on this one."
"How high?"
"Jim, buddy, I'm not sure if you can do this, but I want you to picture a... television remote control." He smiled at his partner's laugh. If there was one item in the loft that Jim knew by feel alone, without having to be tested on it at all, it was the clicker. He was, in his own words, a master surfer.
"Gee, Blair, I don't know if I can do that," Jim teased, feeling better now that his partner was in on the problem."What kind are we talking about? Does it control the cable box and VCR too?"
"Let's stick with the basics for a start, Jim," he said, his mind figuring the set up one step ahead of his mouth. "You have two sets of up and down buttons. One set controls the volume; the other the channels. Got it?"
"Got it." He could actually feel the arrow shaped buttons beneath his fingers.
"Good. We work with the channel button first. Jim, this infrared sight is another frequency, another channel. You need to press the button and change to your old frequency-- your favorite channel. Click the down button, Jim."
Both men held their breath as Jim opened his eyes. "Back to good the good old white spectrum, Chief," he said with a relieved grin. "But it's still enhanced. Back to the dial?"
Blair shook his head. ""Switch your thumb to the volume controls. Now click back until you reach the level you desire."
Jim did as instructed, pleased with the results. "Thank you, Chief," he said clasping his partner's shoulder, which appeared as mere fabric.
"All part of the service, Jim. My receptionist will mail you the bill."
Jim stood and reached down to give his partner a hand. He looked around at all the lights of the police cruisers, the men and women now unmasked and on their way to be booked for the crimes they had committed. Their leader was being strapped to a gurney and Jim extended his hearing until he heard her even, regular breaths. Good. He wanted her alive.
He turned his attention to the man who sat alone on the hood of his car, head bowed. "Edouard," he called softly as he approached. "Who can I call for you? You don't need to be alone."
"But that is what I am now, isn't it?" the man said, holding out his hands with palms up and empty.
"I'm sorry," Jim apologized.
"For what, mon ami?"
"Before you met me, you had a wife and a daughter."
"And now I have the truth." He wondered if his sister would come stay with him. Her husband was an artist. Probably could use a decent roof over their heads. "In time, it will all balance out. Excuse me. I have a call to make." He slid off the hood and reached inside the car for his cell phone.
"He going to be alright?" Simon asked as he came up behind his friend.
"Yeah, eventually," Jim replied.
"And what about you?"
Jim turned, finding himself favored by two sets of concerned eyes. A shield and staff. A Guide and Watcher."Yeah, Simon. As far as I'm concerned, things couldn't be better."
*****
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," the priest said as the small white casket was laid inside the Delacroix Family tomb. More words were spoken, then the marble opening was replaced and sealed.
I see trees of green, red roses too... Jim placed the single rose at the base of the marble gravesite and traced the name of the latest Delacroix resident. "Tu me manques," he said softly.
I miss you, too.
"You okay, Jim?"
Blair had been by his side the whole time, hovering almost, but Jim understood his worry and remembering the conversation he'd had with Alicia, he figured that in real friendships, everyone was a mother at some time. "I'm fine, partner. Just a little sad."
"Dinner at T'Dette's should brighten you up a bit." T'Dette was throwing them a going away dinner. They were scheduled on the red-eye flight back to Cascade at midnight.
"I have a stop to make first."
Jim stood outside Helaire's cell, waiting for the woman to acknowledge his presence. Of course she was going to play it cool, but he wasn't a man who could be fooled. There. That jump in her pulse told him everything he needed to know. "Hello, Helaire. Enjoying the accommodations? Don't worry. You get transferred out tomorrow to a state facility. Should be more spacious than this dinky local jail, don't you think?" A slight hitch in her breath. That was good. ""Just come from your daughter's funeral. Beautiful service. Edouard was surrounded by tons of sympathetic friends. I know he was worried that his social status had been tainted by his association with you but they seem to be a forgiving bunch. Forgetting too. No one even mentioned your name. Oh, well. Guess they're waiting to see who the new Mrs. Delacroix will be. If the women fluttering around him were any indication, there are plenty of applicants."
"Did you come all the way down here just to taunt me, detective? Is that the way you get off? You like your women behind bars?" Helaire asked, sitting up on her cot. Apparently ignoring him wasn't going to work.
"Yeah, when they're murdering bitches like you," he answered easily. "But I actually came here with a purpose. I have news for you. Lots of it, in fact. Let's see, I have: good news, bad news, really bad news, and news that will make you shudder as you continue to think about it." He ticked off the items on his fingers. "The good news is that two of your cohorts, the police commissioner and the chief of police committed suicide. Sat right across a desk from each other, put a gun in their mouths, and ended it all. Very dramatic."
"You're right. That is good news."
"The bad news, however, is that they left very detailed accounts of the activities the Society has been engaged in over the past several decades. You were mentioned prominently and considering these can be considered deathbed confessions, they will pull heavy weight in court. So basically, they screwed you before they died. Was it as good for you?" He laughed as he watched the muscles in her neck tighten.
"Thank you for the report, detective. You can go now."
"But I haven't finished, Helaire. The really bad news is that those accounts, plus the confessions of the remaining members of your little coven, will be enough to put you on death row. Since I'm sure several of your fellow inmates will just love the fact you not only killed your daughter but smiled as you ordered her raped, I'll do you a favor and make sure your reputation precedes you. I'll also let it be known that I'll be highly displeased if you were to die while waiting for your execution. I'd just hate it if my fun ended prematurely."
"So I take it you'll be in the room watching them stick the needle in my arm?" she asked flatly, knowing lethal injection was Louisiana's method of capital punishment.
"Nah. You see, that's the news that's going to make you shudder. Lethal injection is such a passive way of dying. So calm, so peaceful. Nothing you deserve at all. So I think I'm going to come up with something else, something more fitting for a woman like you. I have friends in high and low places, Helaire. My options will be limitless."
"How anyone could have thought you an angel, I'll never know!" she yelled, slinging her pillow at the bars that separated them.
"Lucifer was an angel, you know," he said with a smile, then glanced at his watch. "Oops. Late for dinner. See you, Helaire. In about ten years or so."
He left, whistling.
Epilogue
Joey looked at the dwindling stack of files on his partner's desk and smiled in satisfaction. "I've never seen a group turn on itself like the Society," he said with a shake of his head. They were clearing up cases they hadn't even attributed to the Society.
"Go to bed with snakes, you wake up bit," Mike asserted dryly, not caring how disloyal the Society was being. Just as long as they were all put away. But apparently Helaire Delacroix had been an exceptionally vicious and reckless priestess and everyone had long figured her actions would be the undoing of the Society. Yet, they had either been in the cult before her reign or joined shortly after which meant there was no way out. Until now. And everything they had held against her, even before she took over, was being told to all who would listen.
"I still would like to know what Ellison said to Helaire before he left. Her lawyer says she's thinking about pleading guilty just to get it over with."
"As Grandmere would say, he put the fear of God into her. SOP for angels, isn't it?"
Standard operating procedure for... "You don't really think he was an angel, do you?" Joey asked hesitantly.
Mike shrugged. "An angel is just a messenger from God. Nobody ever said they had to wear a halo and a long white gown."
Joey regarded his partner with a serious stare, then laughed nervously. "You know, I can never tell when you're pulling my leg, Mike."
"Well, ask him yourself when he comes back. T'Dette says they will return and you know T'Dette. Comings and goings are her specialty."
Joey thought back to the three men who had swept into town, turned it on its ear, and left him with the knowledge that work and friendship went hand in hand. It would be nice to meet up with them again but... They wouldn't journey from Washington all the way to Louisiana for just any old case, would they? Just how bad would the situation be when they returned?
The detective shuddered and said a prayer.
*****
"Sandburg, is that you sniffing?" Simon asked, trying to see around Jim.
"I have to sneeze, man," Blair said defensively as he reached out for the popcorn bowl that sat possessively in his roommate's lap.
"Yeah, right," Simon snorted.
"I seem to recall someone taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes when Mustafa was killed," Jim remarked, wishing he was in his favorite chair instead of on the sofa squeezed between his best friends. But the two had carried on so much-- arguing over the popcorn and when to hit the rewind button because one of them burped in the middle of a scene- that he had left his comfortable chair, grabbed the remote and the bowl of popcorn, and made them move to either side of the sofa. A mother's job was never done.
"The social relevancy of this movie is amazing," Blair said as the credits rolled by. "I see how it easily reaches both young and old. The circle of life concept is so simple, yet profound. How does the song go... till we find our place on the path unwinding... That's deep, man." He turned his head, brushing his hand surreptitiously across his face.
"We need more beer," Simon said quickly, hopping up and heading to the refrigerator. "Damn it. We're out. That store around the corner still open?"
"Yeah, man. Why don't we get us some--"
"You two aren't in any condition to go anywhere," Jim inserted, knowing exactly what each man had consumed. Who would have thought the evening would have turned out how it did. He'd stopped by the video store on his way home, had unthinkingly tossed the tape on the table while he went upstairs to get comfortable. Blair had seen the tape, gotten concerned, and called Simon over. The next thing he knew it was Movie Night at the Loft. "I'll go restock. Think you two can behave yourselves while I'm gone?"
"We'll be good," Blair promised. Jim nodded and waited for Simon's vow.
"Geez, Jim, I'm your captain. Doesn't that count for anything?" the taller man argued. He got the evil blue eye in response. "Fine. I, Simon Banks, do hereby swear to be on my best behavior while Jim Ellison is at the store. Good enough?"
"It'll do," Jim said, grabbing his wallet and strolling out the door.
Blair eyed Simon warily. "What is it, Sandburg? You heard my promise to Jim." He had plans for the observer after Jim's return, however.
"It's not that, man. It's just that I received this letter and..."
In a heartbeat, the teasing glint in Simon's eye was gone. "What is it? Some kind of threat?"
"No, nothing like that." Blair scrambled over to his backpack and withdrew the envelope. "It came to my campus box so Jim hasn't seen it. I'm not sure if he ever will."
"What is this about, Sandburg?" Simon asked gently.
"Jim told you about... about his enhanced vision, right?"
"Uh huh. Something about Alicia's powers augmenting his for like a year, right?"
Blair stared at the letter in his hand. "Not quite, Simon." He made up his mind and handed the envelope to his captain and friend.
Simon noted there was no return address. "With your track record, you should have had this letter checked out before you opened it," he said.
"Just read it, Simon."
"Dear Guide." Simon looked up, frowning. "Somebody knows about you?"
"Keep reading, sir."
"Dear Guide: We never got a chance to meet but I know how wonderful you are because the Sentinel told me so. I need to make a confession and I thought you were the one who really needed to know because he trusts you and you are the only one who can make him understand how important this is, how important he is. By now, you may have noticed some changes in what he can do. He hates changes and I'm sorry if he has been difficult because of them. These changes have occurred because of what I gave him and what he freely accepted. But he accepted it thinking that it was a temporary boost which would make it easier to destroy those who destroyed me. That is a lie. My energy source is a legacy, a gift given in love, and therefore is permanent. If I had told him, he may have rejected it and that would have been a terrible loss. I beg his forgiveness and I leave the choice to tell him to you. Guide him well, love him well, and know that you all have friends no matter where you are. Sincerely, Alicia Delacroix."
"What are you going to do?" Simon asked, minutes later.
"Stall as long as possible."
Simon nodded. "Sounds reasonable. He's not going to be happy, you know."
"I know. And he's really not going to be happy when he realizes the extra testing we're going to have to do. We know how his sight was enhanced, but what about his other senses? What kind of boost will they be getting?"
"I have no idea, Sandburg, but I do know the two of you will handle whatever comes your way."
"The three of us, Simon," Blair corrected.
What the hell."The three of us, Blair. Better put that letter up before he gets back. I'll start rewinding the tape."
"Run it back to where Timon is in the hula skirt. Great song."
"You're a sick man, Sandburg."
"Yeah, I know." Laughing, they sat down on the sofa and watched the ending again.
Jim knew they were asleep even before he quietly let himself back into the loft. He hadn't, however, anticipated that they had fallen asleep curled up together like tuckered out pups. Removing the popcorn bowl from a precarious perch on Simon's knee, he threw a couple afghans on them, cut off the television and the lights, and finally got to sit in his chair. He stayed there for the rest of the night-- soothed by their snores and warmed by their company.
For the first time in weeks, the Sentinel was at peace.
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