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by
Chapter Seventeen
"Can't sleep?"
Simon shook his head, realized it was dark and was going to make a verbal reply, then remembered who was asking the question. "Told you not to give up your bed, Ellison. Then I wouldn't be disturbing you."
Jim flicked on a lamp so Simon could navigate down the stairs. "You also said when you were at the loft, I never slept. That was true too. What's got you walking the floor?"
"Thoughts. Too many of them."
"Daryl."
Simon shrugged. "Got any of that pizza left?" he asked brusquely. On the way from the hospital, they had stopped for take out.
"In the fridge."
Simon grabbed a napkin and slapped a piece onto it before keying in the microwave for thirty seconds. Just enough time to take the chill off. "He's fine, Jim. Just like Sandburg. What's keeping you from sleeping?"
"You want that list alphabetized or random?" Jim asked dryly, not stirring from his position on the sofa.
"Beer?"
"Sure."
"How do you stand this, Jim?" Simon asked as he handed him the cold bottle and plopped onto the loveseat.
"Stand what?"
"The guilt, the maybe's, the waiting, the wondering, the would have's and could have's...."
"Ah. So you did want them alphabetized," Jim replied with a dry chuckle. "I have two good friends I can unload on, Simon. That how I stand it."
Simon stared at the pizza, knowing there was no way he could eat it. "Sandburg's turned you into a damn Chatty Cathy," he snapped, recalling a popular talking doll.
"Maybe. But you have to admit, I'm a lot easier to take these days." He knew what he was like before Blair. Sometimes he looked back at that life and wondered why he had any friends left. Blair had made the loft a home, a place where he could be himself...whether ranting and raving or merely letting the occasional tear fall. In honor of that gesture, he would pass it on. "You know you can talk to me, Simon, and what goes on here, goes no further."
"You think I don't know that? You think I didn't recognize this 'you need to be protected' ruse for what it was? I was, am, a detective, you know. I know when I'm being played, even by the great Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. I don't know which of you scares me more. You're both too damn slick for your own good. Sandburg has you wrapped around his finger. Hell, he's got everyone in the unit under his thumb. Then there's you. You do some of the wildest shit and we don't even blink any more. Like standing up in front of Daryl. The boy says that he wants to kill you, and you stand dead in front of him and ask him why. Damn foolish stunt. Then you look at him and he collapses...." Simon's voice broke and he reached for the beer.
"From the moment Joan told me she was pregnant, I wanted that baby, Jim," he continued. "I didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl. The guys at the station were always patting me on the back, saying they knew I was secretly hoping for a son, but I really didn't care. I just wanted it, him or her. I would talk to Joan's stomach. Boy, how she used to laugh at that. 'Your daddy's being silly', she would say and I would counter with, 'No, your daddy's just letting you he loves you.' Babies. They grab you that early, wrapping your heart around little fingers that don't even resemble fingers yet," he said with a fond smile. Jim nodded, grateful the captain was finally talking.
"In her seventh month, Joan's blood pressure skyrocketed. Pre-eclampsia, the doctors called it. She had to stop working and stay in bed. That helped for a while, but in her eighth month, they finally had to do a caesarian to save both her and the baby." He shuddered as the vivid memories came back to him. "You have a son, the doctor's told me. Everyone assumed he was going to be named Simon, Jr., but I absolutely refused to do that. I wanted my son to be an individual. I wasn't looking for a clone or someone to follow in my footsteps. I looked at that tiny being and I told myself that he could be whoever he wanted to be. That's why when he got the dreadlocks, I held my temper. I wanted him to be an individual and hell, that's just what I was getting.
"I was up-front with him about the divorce. Told him straight out that it had nothing to do with him, that his mother and I had just decided that it just wasn't working anymore. He took the news quietly and every so often, he would do something just to let me know he was still pissed at me for leaving. But all and all, he's been a good kid, Jim, a good son. We had to work for our relationship, but that's what you have to do when something's worth it, right? I think it was here in the loft that I realized what kind of man I had raised. When the demons came that night and they tried to get him to betray us...Daryl spoke and there was such conviction in his voice. He was standing by his dad and his friends, no matter what. Even when the secret of the Sentinel was revealed, he didn't consider it a betrayal. He knew why it was kept from him, why it's been kept from most people.
"I was also proud of the way he kept your Flip busy, the way he responded when he heard what that cult had wanted to do to her. I think taking responsibility for her, made him understand me better. I think he finally realized what my job was, how important it was for me to take care of the rest of the world, even though he wanted me all to himself. For the past few months, when we've been together, it's been as two men, two adults who care for each other and are not ashamed to admit it.
"That's a good thing, Jim. A lot of parents and kids never reach that stage. The parent will either baby the kid his whole life, or the kid never gets over that teen rebellion stage. We see it all the time in our line of work, don't we? Kids killing parents for their money or possessions, beating them up for past sins and slights, or the parents berating their grown children, meddling in their lives, telling them everything they do is wrong.... So much needless violence...."
Simon stood and ambled over to the balcony doors, peeking through the shades covering them. "You wanna go out?" Jim asked.
"Nah. It's too cold, isn't it?" Simon replied, even as he unlocked the doors.
Jim stood and grabbed a couple of jackets. Both men were dressed only in sweatpants. "Sometimes even a wide-open loft becomes confining," he commented in complete understanding as he followed his friend outside.
Simon nodded as he shrugged into one of Jim's jackets. He didn't care much for Jim's sense of style in everyday clothes, but the man had good taste in outerwear. "Stars!" he exclaimed. "Someone told me Cascade had them, but all I ever see is clouds."
"They come out every so often," Jim explained. "Just so we won't forget they're up there." The Sentinel adjusted his temperature dial, having given his heavier jacket to the captain.
"Were they up there today, Jim, when I did something I thought I would never do? Were they watching when I pulled a gun and aimed it at my son? I didn't even know it was Daryl. Sandburg moved, then he was down, and I just reacted. I'm a cop, damn it. I hear a gunshot, I draw my weapon. It's automatic. The whole room did it. The whole fucking room, Jim. Just think of what could have happened if it had been in the main squadroom instead of the Major Crimes bullpen-- a place where everyone wouldn't have seen the captain's son, but just one more drugged up Black teen...."
He turned and in the starlight, Jim could see the tears glistening on his face. "I could have lost him today, Jim. He could have been bleeding from a hundred holes before I knew it. I could be making funeral arrangements this very minute, wondering who to get as pall bearers for my son, my Daryl. I could have...." The sobs he'd been holding back, exploded in a hail of strangled cries and a wash of tears.
For half a second, Jim considered leaving Simon to give into his grief privately. For all of his talk about Jim being a lone wolf, the captain was one as well. His position made him so. He could only get so close to his men because when push came to shove, he had to be a captain first and a friend second. The fine line he walked got narrower every day where a certain team was concerned, but it hadn't been crossed yet, and Jim wasn't certain whether he should, or even had the right to, push Simon over it.
If Simon had been like the rest of the paper pushers and had a home life to turn to for comfort, this wouldn't be an issue. He would have sent him home for some good old-fashioned spoiling. But Simon was divorced, with an unsympathetic ex, and a son he saw only during planned visits and outings. So, if the captain had cried in the past few years, he had cried alone. Jim knew how that felt...and couldn't condemn his friend to that fate.
He didn't say anything, didn't even croon a soft assurance. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the larger man and gave him something to clutch as the world he knew crumbled around him. When the storm was over, and Simon padded softly into the loft, climbing docilely into the bed he'd been given, Jim stayed on the balcony and watched the stars.
*****
Mrs. Krebbs had told the nice man next door that she would pick up the paper, which was delivered each morning, and keep it for him while he was away. He always greeted her when they passed in the hall, and never complained about the number of cats that sometimes escaped into the hallway, so she thought picking up his paper was the least she could do.
At 8:00, she looked out into corridor and saw the paper laying where it should be. She took a few steps and bent to pick it up. That's when she noticed his door wasn't completely closed. Had he arrived in the middle of the night?
"Mr. Masden?" she called, tapping lightly on the ajar door. At her slight touch, it swung open.
And then Mrs. Krebbs screamed.
*****
"About time you arrived, man," Blair said eagerly as his partner's face appeared in the door. "You got my clothes?"
"Right here, Chief," Jim answered, holding up a small duffle bag. "What's with the hurry? You afraid the hospital is going to change its mind about letting you go?"
"No, man, I'm fine, fit as a fiddle. See for yourself." He held out his arm. Although the Sentinel could monitor him without touch, Jim always seemed to need that reassurance when Blair was in the hospital. "I just want to see Daryl before I go. He's still here, isn't he?"
Jim nodded at the results of his scan and allowed Blair to get dressed. "I dropped Simon by the station earlier, so he could get his car, go home, and get dressed for the meeting with the lawyer. Daryl won't be released until after a battery of psych tests-- which will be for his benefit."
"How is Simon?"
"He's hanging in there, Chief." Jim guided Blair's sore arm through a sleeve.
"Hanging as in barely grasping, or hanging as in secure grip?"
"He'll go the distance."
"Good. I knew you could get through to him." He adjusted his sling while Jim tied his shoes. "Now, lets get upstairs and see how his son is."
"What about your discharge papers?"
"The doctor has already checked me out. I told Marilyn, my nurse, where I was heading. She'll either page me or bring the final copies to me. Get the lead out, big guy," he called as he nearly galloped out the door.
Jim merely shook his head and gathered all the personal items Blair had left behind. When he was satisfied the room was clear, he zipped up the duffle and followed his partner who was still waiting on an elevator. "I was going to ask you to remove the sphere when you arrived," Blair said as if Jim had been standing beside him all the time. "But then, I thought it would be a good idea to let Daryl see it, let him know someone else needed it too."
"Especially someone like his personal role model?"
"I'm not a role model, per se, Jim. I'm more like...a friend paddling the same river. We've had similar experiences and I always seem to have them first or at the same time, so he looks to me for advice," Blair reasoned. "I mean, look at this right now. Just a few months ago, I was in his exact position; something had invaded my body and tried to make me kill you.... Gee, Jim, if it wasn't for your friends, who'd be left to off you?" he teased.
"Just the rest of the world, Chief," Jim replied as the elevator finally arrived. The car was crowded due to the early hour, and they remained quiet until they got to their requested floor.
"He's listening to cartoons," Jim said as they approached the room.
"Great! I haven't seen a morning cartoon since--"
"Since you decided morning was the enemy?" Jim interrupted wryly. He'd fought with Blair many a morning, threatening all sorts of bodily harm just to get his partner out of bed. The fact that once he was up, he hit the ground running, just made the exercise more difficult.
"So I'm a little grumpy in the mornings. Maybe if you let me watch cartoons--"
"No way, Chief. One tinny laugh track and I'd probably shoot the television. And if an officer discharges his weapon, he has about sixteen forms to fill out. Now, if you feel like doing that much paperwork--"
"Me? You would be the one who shot the TV!"
"But you would be the one who watched the cartoon."
Blair sighed. "We'll just stick with you screaming at me as usual in the mornings, Jim."
"It does get my day off to a good start," he said with a sly grin. He put out his arm to stop his partner outside Daryl's room. "Let me go in first." He pushed through the door. "Morning."
"Jim!" Daryl called.
"How you doing, buddy?"
"How do you think?" He waved his arms to indicate the bubble still around him. "How's Blair?"
"Ask him yourself." He opened the door wider.
"Hey, Daryl!" He bounded over to the bed.
"Watch the shoulder," Jim warned.
Blair scowled at him, then hugged the teen one-armed. "You had me worried, my friend."
"I had you...I shot you, Blair."
"No, Lilith did," Blair replied firmly. "And we don't have to worry about her, do we?"
Daryl's eyes widened as he glimpsed the shield around Blair. "You got one too! Oh, man. If only I'd had this before that night."
Jim figured he'd leave the two alone. If anyone could get Daryl through the guilt, it was Blair. "I'll be out in the hall, looking for your paperwork, Sandburg."
Blair nodded and concentrated on his young friend. "Bet you're feeling pretty crappy."
"The doctors say I'm physically healthy."
Blair shrugged. "So, your body's feeling great, but what about the rest of you?"
Brown eyes skidded to the side. "I shot you, Blair. How should I feel?"
"That's what I'm asking you."
"I'm sorry. You know that, don't you?"
Blair waved away the unnecessary apology. "I'm going to be fine. But I need you to talk to me, Daryl, before I can go home and rest like I should. I need to know you're going to be okay."
Fingers kneaded the thin blanket covering him. "Dad taught me how to use a gun a couple of years ago. Made me go to the shooting range and everything. Bet he hates he did that now."
"Bet he hates he took you to the range, or bet he hates you?" Blair questioned gently.
Shoulders slumped. "I remembered all his instructions when I pointed that gun at Jim. If you hadn't stepped in the way, the bullet would have gone straight into his heart. I knew that. It's what I wanted to happen. I did my damnedest to kill my dad's best friend. I shot another of his friends. In the police station. In front of everyone he works with. How can he not hate me?"
"Because he loves you."
Daryl made a sound which was halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Love can only forgive so much."
"Wrong! Love can forgive anything. I should know." Blair sighed and pushed back his hair. Should have let Jim pin it back for me. "Remember that evening at the loft, Daryl, when Jim's face was all scratched up and he'd busted a few ribs? You said, 'I guess I should see the other guy, right?' Well, I was the other guy, Daryl. If you had checked my fingernails that night, Jim's flesh would have been under them."
Shock marred the young features. "Why, man? You two are like brothers."
Blair swallowed. When he'd began, he hadn't realized the incident would still be so hard to talk about. "I wasn't myself, Daryl. You see, Lilith got into your head and made you go after Jim. Well...a demon got into more than my head. It possessed me, man, my entire body. And it didn't just want to kill Jim, it wanted to hurt him first."
"Jim's bigger than you are--"
Blair nodded. "If he'd wanted to, he could have crushed me like a bug in the first minute. But the big idiot was worried more about me being harmed, than himself. When he should have been defending himself, he was watching out for me, making sure I didn't get damaged.... When the demon saw it couldn't kill Jim, it tried to kill me. Most of the injuries Jim received were from saving my life."
"Shit."
A weak laugh. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Silence as both relived their nightmares. "I didn't tell you that story for sympathy, man. I told you to show you the power of love. Jim forgave me, fully and completely. If he can do that, then you know you have no reason to fear losing your dad's love or respect."
"You ever wonder why they put up with us?" Daryl questioned, finally accepting the fact that his dad would always love him. He'd known it; he just needed confirmation from an outside source.
"I wonder all the time. But just remember when you're feeling down that we are the chosen, Daryl. Some people can go a whole lifetime and never be loved like we are. Biology gave you your father and fate gave me Jim." Actually, biology played a big part in our relationship too.
"I guess that means we're pretty special."
"And lucky as hell."
"That too," Daryl agreed and smiled a real smile for the first time since hearing the name Lilith.
Chapter Eighteen
After Jim left the two younger people alone, he took a seat in the floor's waiting area. Fifteen minutes later, he felt Simon's presence approaching. "Captain, Mrs. Banks," he greeted as the couple got off the elevator with another man.
"You here to see Daryl?" Simon asked.
"Sandburg's with him. I thought the two of them should talk alone."
"Sandburg?" the other man questioned. "Is that the young man my client shot?"
"Yes," Simon said. "Jim, this is Paul Brickman, Daryl's attorney. Mr. Brickman, this is Detective Jim Ellison."
"The intended target?"
"Yeah," Jim answered. "But neither I nor my partner hold Daryl responsible. He was influenced by outside forces."
"So I've been told. According to the captain, Daryl was brainwashed by a murderer you're after?"
"That's right."
"Would you be willing to testify on Daryl's behalf?"
"Of course. Sandburg too. Did Captain Banks mention Officer Myron Whittaker?"
"The other person this woman also tried to get to murder you? Yes. I plan to see him immediately after meeting Daryl. Tell me. Do you have proof of the existence of this woman?"
Simon noticed Jim focusing on the elevator so he wasn't surprised when it opened and two of his detectives stepped out. "Captain, Ellison, we got something," Brown said as he as his partner approached.
"New body?" Simon asked.
"I'm going to go talk to the nurse," Joan said quickly. "Why don't you join me, Mr. Brickman?"
As if I wasn't in enough hot water with her. "What do you have, gentlemen?"
Rafe held up a note encased in plastic. "This was found on the door of a room at the Hilton."
Simon took the package, knowing Jim could see it from his position. "Det. Jim Ellison: Couldn't think of a better way to say I'm sorry. This was found on a door? Anybody check the room?"
"Yep. Inside was Jerry West, in town to attend a dental conference," Brown answered.
"Dead?"
"Very much alive," Rafe said. "Hell of a way to apologize-- not killing someone. Guess she didn't mean it when she sent to kid to take you out, Jim."
"Yeah, well, it seemed like she meant it at the time. Who found this?"
"Bellboy. He was bringing up the cart to pick up a guest's luggage, saw the note-- nosy bugger that he was-- and called the cops. Seems he saw a clip of your press conference yesterday and remembered your name," Rafe explained.
"You mean I have to thank the press for something?"
Brown exchanged a glance with his partner. "There's something else, Jim. That reporter you had us looking into? A neighbor found him OD'ed in his apartment this morning."
Jim frowned. "I didn't even know he was back in the city. Overdosed on what?"
"He was shooting heroin. Still had his arm tied off. Apparently, he had a history of drug use. One of the reasons he was here in Washington instead of his usual haunt of New York."
"Any files about Ellison with him?" Simon asked quickly.
Another furtive glance. "Uh, after we drop off this note to forensics, we were going to head over to the crime scene and check around."
"Crime scene?" Simon asked.
"Have to keep all our options open until we hear from the M.E., captain," Rafe said professionally.
"You do that, detectives. I'll see you back at the station."
Jim looked at the captain. "Wasn't Brickman saying something about proof, sir?"
"That he was, my friend. Let's go tell him we just got it."
*****
"Chief?" Jim called as he came down the stairs from his room. Both he and Blair had napped for part of the afternoon. An hour ago, Simon had called and awakened them, telling them the good news that Daryl had "passed" all his psych exams and was being released from the hospital.
"Yeah, Jim?" his roommate replied from where he sat at the table, pecking one-handed on his laptop. Thanks to getting shot, he was one day behind in his daily journal. Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd been behind and he was lucky it was only one day.
"I'm going to ask you something that I've never asked you before, and I don't want you to freak. Just close your mouth and give yourself time to consider my request, okay?"
"O...Okay," Blair agreed anxiously.
Jim walked to the center of the living room. "Why is your heart racing?"
"Because you're scaring me, man," Blair replied honestly.
"Don't worry, Sandburg. I'm not going to ask you for your soul or something."
"Wouldn't be a problem; you already have it." Jim just stared at him. Oops. Forgot the big guy doesn't like hearing stuff like that. Gonna have to work on that. "What's your request, Jim?"
"I want to borrow those candles you use to meditate."
Blair was the one staring this time. "Why?"
"To meditate."
Duh, Blair. The man wants meditation candles because he wants to meditate. Nothing to frazzle yourself over. Just because it took two years just for him not to mumble something nasty when *you* meditated and another year for him to join you when you *insisted* it had to be done, doesn't mean he's not entitled to meditate at his leisure, without any prompting or arm-twisting from you, without there being anything wrong with his senses.... "Everything working properly, big guy? Senses doing okay? Concussion isn't causing any problems, is it?"
Jim sighed. "Didn't I tell you not to freak? I'm fine. This is just something I have to do."
Have to do? "Oh, you're going to contact Michael?" So that's how you communicate with an archangel. Makes sense.
"No, I'm going to contact myself."
"Uh, that sounds like something I would say," Blair mumbled as he went to his room and got the requested materials.
"Does that mean I have to grow hair down to my shoulders and listen to tom-toms go bump in the night?"
"Only if you're fortunate," Blair quipped. He could tell Jim was serious about this, so he didn't make any more comments, just merely arranged the candles in a circle and got the matches. "Grab a pillow. The floor can get pretty hard if you're under a while."
Jim looked at the preparations and smiled. "Thanks, Chief. Have you ever had the feeling that the answers you're looking for, you already know?" Blair nodded as his partner folded his long legs, and got comfortable on the pillow. "So, I don't have to chant or anything, do I?"
"No, man, just relax." Blair kneeled down behind him and massaged his shoulders. His voice dropped to Guide mode, lower, smoother. "This should be easy for you, Jim. You know your body. Push out the negative energy and breath in clear. Take that jumble of thoughts and move them to one side. Now, take one at a time and examine it. If it's not the right one, go to the next. Filter them as you do your senses."
When Jim had reached the correct level of relaxation, Blair backed away. He stared at Jim, completely at ease in the circle of candles and for a moment, he flashed onto a picture of Jim in a jungle by a campfire, dressed in camouflage, a black jaguar curled at his feet. He blinked and the image disappeared. Cool.
Two hours later, when a knock came on the door, Jim was still searching for his answers. Blair checked to see if the sound had disturbed him but the Sentinel remained in his relaxed state. "Hi, Simon," he said softly as he opened the door.
"Why the whispers? Jim asle--" He stopped as he saw his detective and the candles. "What's going on?"
"He said the answers he needed were inside him."
"And so you...?"
Blair threw up his hands. "I didn't suggest anything. He asked me for the candles."
Simon shuddered. "Do you have any idea of what's going on with him?"
"In a word? No. On the surface, he appears more open, more..." He searched for the correct word.
"User friendly?" Simon supplied.
"Exactly. He's more tolerant of mistakes. He manages his stress better. He's less demanding of others. He encourages talking and sharing."
"But?"
"But it's bogus, man. Sure, he wants everyone else to talk and share, but he's clammed up more than ever," Blair admitted in a burst of frustration. "In less than a year, he's gone from being a mere Sentinel-- and the word mere doesn't mean what it usually does-- with five heightened senses, to an enhanced Sentinel with senses that are beyond the realm of the imagination. That's got to be mind-blowing, Simon. He saw into that gymnasium from the roof of the Cascade Savings and Trust building."
"You're kidding?" Simon said breathlessly. "That's where he took the shot from? Forensics is so boggled by where a shot could have come from that they're just saying the fragments they found came from the gun itself. Bad manufacturing is the official ruling."
"Count the ammo for the M16 in your trunk, man. You will find one-- and only one-- missing."
"Shit. How?"
Blair shrugged. "There was no discussion about it. I asked him if he could make the shot and he said sure. No hesitation. No doubt. Pure self-confidence. I asked him how he was seeing, and all he told me was that he'd discovered other channels. But he'd never mentioned these channels before. How the hell am I supposed to be his Guide when he doesn't talk to me?" He turned away from the captain. "Maybe he doesn't even need a Guide anymore."
"Then be his shaman," Simon suggested quietly.
"A confidant in whom he doesn't confide?" Blair snorted. "He's buddies with an archangel, Simon. What does he need me for?"
"I didn't see Michael at his side when he woke up in the hospital. And it wasn't Michael who made him go home last night or noticed how much energy he used to make the protection thingamajigs," Simon argued. "Maybe the Sentinel doesn't need a Guide anymore. I doubt it, but for argument's sake, let's say it's true. And maybe the Warrior doesn't need the shaman. But what I do know, Sandburg, and what I would swear to in a court of justice, if necessary, is that Jim needs Blair."
Blair slumped into his chair at the dining table, amazed at the comfort those simple words gave him. But then, maybe they weren't that simple after all. "Thank you for that, Simon." He clicked off the computer and motioned for the captain to join him. "How are things with Daryl?"
"He's home with Joan. I figured he was safe there since he still has that orb thing around him. I see yours is gone."
"I had Jim remove it when we got home. No use expending energy that could be used elsewhere. Daryl's holding up okay?"
"Solid. It amused him that I could see it too. He called me his New Age Dad."
"Hmm. That's what they call my mom. Maybe the two of you...." Blair looked at Simon and Simon at Blair.
"Nahhhh," they said in perfect unison.
"Mind if I add a third 'nah'," Jim asked as he returned from his 'journey'. "The thought of Simon and Naomi makes my skin crawl."
"Everything makes your skin crawl, Jim," Blair pointed out. "Now, what would be wrong with my mom meeting a nice guy like the captain here?"
"Other than the fact she thinks all cops are fascists, that Simon is a stay-at-home kind of guy and your mother runs all over the globe, and that you would have to call Simon, dad? Why nothing at all is wrong with that, Sandburg," Jim said patiently.
"He makes sense," Blair whispered to Simon.
"He makes a lot of sense. That's why we had both said nah to begin with. Remember that, Sandburg?" Simon reminded him.
"Sorry. It's kind of an automatic thing to come to Naomi's defense. So, Jim, find any answers?"
"'For every ailment under the sun, there is a remedy or there is none; if there be one, try to find it; if there be none, never mind it,'" Jim quoted.
"He's scaring me again," Simon protested.
"I resemble that emotion," Blair declared.
Jim laughed. "Sorry, maybe I dug too deep. That's a Mother Goose rhyme I remembered, that's all. There was indeed a remedy to our ailment. Thanks to your guidance, Chief, I found it."
"And?"
"And tomorrow, Lilith goes back to where she belongs."
Chapter Nineteen
Cindy Hartwell dropped the phone back into its cradle numbly. Edgar Masden was dead. According to the Editor-In-Chief, he'd died by his own hand-- whether accidently or on purpose didn't matter. What mattered was that moving him to Washington had done no good. Apparently his habit had moved with him and grown from cocaine to heroin. All it took was one hit too many to the heart. Of course, they would spin it as best as possible. The press release would read sudden heart failure. If they were lucky, they could start a rumor about how he'd been moved to the Northwest because of problems discovered during his last physical. The shakes he had that everyone had ascribed to alcoholism were due to one of those named diseases like Lou Gehrig's disease or Guillain-Barre Syndrome or something. Maybe ask memorials be placed in his name to the appropriate organizations.
But as Cindy slumped into a chair and stared at the fire in her fireplace, she wondered how the company spindoctors would react if they knew the truth; they weren't putting a spin on drug abuse, but murder.
*****
"You're just going to sit here and wish her to appear and she will?" Blair asked skeptically as he paced in nervous circles around his partner.
"Yes, Chief. Lilith enters through the mind, remember?"
"Yeah, and I also remember the part about preying on the flesh of single men. Newsflash, Jim! You're a single man," he said agitatedly.
"Whom Lilith wants. She'll come."
"Uh, that's the part I'm worried about, Jim. If you send me and Simon with the kids to recreate the invocation, you'll be here alone with Lilith. That can't be a good thing, man."
"Well, if you expect me to seduce her while you watch, you can forget it. Get your jollies elsewhere," Jim ordered indignantly.
"I'd probably get a bigger thrill out of one the PG13 flicks down at the mall. Hell, I'd better get a bigger thrill out of the movie," he warned, waggling a finger in Jim's direction. "Guiding one Sentinel is enough; I will not tolerate having a hundred little Lilim running around, crying for the Guide to turn their dials down. You hear me, man?"
The imagery had Jim laughing until he nearly cried. "That was a good one, Chief. Now, get ready to leave. Simon and Daryl will be here in a few minutes to pick you up."
"Hey, Jim," Blair called as he disappeared into his room, in search of his backpack. "If Lilith can just phase in and out, why didn't she do that at the Sandy Creek Motorlodge? Why did she let the investigator see her?"
"She was newly released and didn't have the energy for her usual tricks. She's come a long way in a couple of days."
Blair returned, with his backpack draped across a shoulder. "You sure about this, Jim?" he asked one last time.
"I'm sure, Chief." He cocked his head to one side. "They just pulled up. Go meet them. I'm nervous enough without having to watch Daryl and Simon eye me speculatively. Simon would probably make me put on a suit."
Blair scanned the man sitting casually on the sofa. Soft blue sweater with the sleeves pushed up, pale khakis. Jim Ellison at his quintessential best. "You're good, man. You'll have her eating out of your hand in no time."
"Thanks for the ego boost. Now, get out of here. I'll call when the deed is done."
Jim heard him get into the car, the greetings, the worries, the jokes for Daryl's sake. After a mile, he stopped his eavesdropping and decided to get on with the business at hand. Damn, he thought as he tried to settle his mind. The boys back in Covert Ops would get a kick of this. The Master, J. J. Ellison himself, balking at seducing a beautiful and willing lady. But, hell, it wasn't the seduction itself he was worried about. Sex was Lilith's weakness and he knew exactly how to exploit it.
That was the problem: the act of exploiting. It bothered him, always had, but before he'd been able to chuck his self-disgust into a mental closet and get on with the job. As he got older, it had been harder to snow himself, however. That's why he hadn't lasted very long in Vice. It had hit him in the middle of a bust he had helped arrange, that he was arresting men and women for doing the exact same thing he himself was getting paid to do. Paid to do. Whoring, Jim. You whored for your government. You whored for the police department. And here you are again-- whoring for the world this time. The end may be just, but the means suck.
Well, that kind of thinking was just getting him further away from his objective. Trying to mentally jumpstart himself, he went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. It was time for J.J. to make an appearance; J.J. Ellison, the U.S. funded, NATO-approved, all purpose slut. His mission (always his mission): to gain the enemy's trust by any means necessary. That usually meant feigning interest, both personal and sexual. Your husband doesn't understand you, but I do. Give me the combination to the vault and I'll take you away from the bad man. You are so beautiful. Looking into your eyes reminds me of a Colorado morning just after a snowfall, a clear, crisp blue which beckons me to come and play. But before we do, you don't happen to know where I can get my hands on a couple of top-secret documents, do you? I don't know what it is about you. I've never felt myself attracted to another man before.... That one had been the one to break the camel's back, so to speak. He hadn't had to go as far as sleeping with the man, but he had become his best friend, his right hand in his questionable dealings. The man had confided secrets to him, about his past, about his fears, and he had used them against him-- broken him through sheer brutal betrayal. Damn. If he hadn't had the chance to volunteer for the Peru mission right after that, he probably would have blown his brains out.
He forced his eyes to find the mirror. Objectively, he tried to find anything that a lover would find appealing. Maybe they wouldn't; after all, he was now older. But then it was never the looks, but the attitude. Stick enough sincerity into your words and people fell. Praise them enough, tell them what they wanted to hear, appeal to their insecurities, and wham, they were putty for you to mold or mash. He'd done it automatically in the hotel room. He could, and would, do it automatically here. After all, he had a world to save.
He went back to the living room, sat casually on the sofa, and silently sought Lilith. Just as Daryl had described, she formed-- at first just a dark outline, then the woman herself, her nudity raiment fit for the goddess that she was. Full, red lips smiled at him. "So, apology accepted?"
J.J. smiled, a slow, deliberate process. "Appreciated, but I'm not sure about the accepted part yet. You did try to have me killed, not once, but twice."
She winced as she reached out toward the bruise still vivid at his temple. "I was confused."
"I'm not. There's been no one but you on my mind since the day I saw you." He caught the hand she held out and carefully stroked its palm.
"I can say the same. What is it about you, Detective Jim Ellison, that appeals to me so?"
He lifted the hand to his lips. "Where did you learn my name?"
"The boy. He told me all about you."
"As you seduced and entranced him." He tried to hide his anger but couldn't.
"Jealous?" she guessed.
"Immensely. But mostly disappointed. You knew how it would be between us, yet you chose not only a boy, but another man as well."
"A poor substitute, I'm afraid," she said as he tugged her onto his lap.
"But now you have the real thing." He kissed her to show her the difference. His senses instantly let him know the places she wanted touched and his body responded to her needs. At his will, he made her gasp, moan, writhe with ecstacy until she panted her desire for completion. All he had to do was whisper a simple request, "Submit to me," and the job would be over. Lilith would be banished forever (at least for his lifetime) and once again he would be the unnamed savior of mankind.
But as they grappled on the sofa, something jabbed into his hip from the cushions and as he reached for it, the sensitive fingers identified it as one of Blair's hairclips-- bought in some country on some anthropological expedition. If he concentrated, he could remember the details of anything Blair said to him with startling recall. But at the moment, his focus wasn't on Blair...not directly, anyway. It was on the Jim that Blair knew, the Jim who now based his relationships on trust. He had accused Blair of violating that trust once and the pain had almost been too much to bear. Now, he was deliberately doing the same thing. And couldn't.
He shoved Lilith away, and walked over to stare into the fire of the gas stove in the far corner of the room. "I won't do this," he told her without looking back.
"You won't lie down with me?" He was confusing her again. In the hotel room, she had figured out what the game would be this time. The great Lilith, hoisted by her own petard; caught in the web of lust she herself had woven many times. It was so classical, so Michael. She had thought to free herself of the particular web by killing the spider that spun it, but he kept surviving...adding to the already strong attraction she felt for him. Finally, she admitted to herself that this was a man worthy of her. If going back into exile was the price for having him, so be it. However, he was suddenly changing the rules on her. What was this human up to?
"I won't use you. You deserve better." I deserve better. On that alternate plane where Helaire took me, I defeated Ellison, and J.J., and all the others who were created for the purposes of men. I will not resurrect them. Not even at the cost of my own soul.
Black eyes widened in surprise. "I am a demon. I deserve worse." No, no, no. Something was definitely wrong here.
"But you were once a woman, a woman betrayed by the one person whose respect she wanted the most." Lilith gasped and he knew he'd hit a nerve. He turned then and smiled, not a J.J. smile, but the grim one that typically accompanied Jim's memories of the past. "You were Adam's equal. You walked beside him. You shared the sunrises and sunsets. He should have been grateful for your presence. Instead, he wanted to break you, to change your nature. And you said no."
"How do you know this?" she asked wonderingly. These were feelings and thoughts she had locked away in her heart, then allowed the organ to shrivel up into its original dust and blow away.
"I was a child once, a child who wanted more than anything to please his father. But all his father wanted to do was to change his nature." He turned back toward the fire. "I wasn't as strong as you. I couldn't say no. I changed who I was, who I was born to be...and guess what, he still wasn't pleased. Once I was of age, I did as you did; I fled. I ran further and further from my destiny and perhaps, I would have ended up like you-- the complete opposite of what was intended for me. But burying seven men I had known, worked with, respected...that made me stop running. You never returned to Eden, but I came back to Cascade."
"To your father?" His story was compelling, touching...except she had nothing to touch. Then why was her chest aching for him?
"No, to me. It was a long search and I never would have made it if I hadn't found...no, if a very special friend hadn't found me. He gave me a very special gift which allowed me to be me again." Arms slid around his stomach and felt a kiss pressed against his bare back, the sweater having been shed earlier. "I want to give that gift to you, Lilith. We are so much alike, you and I."
Strong receptors pinpointed the single tear that wet his back. "We were so much alike, love. But it is far too late for me to go back. I am what I am, what I have become over ages, not years. Even if I could change, I wouldn't," she admitted. Tears? No, I can't cry. To weep means to feel. But I don't. I can't. What kind of lust is this?
His kissed the hands that had knotted against his abdomen. "That's the gift I want to give you." He tugged her around until she faced him. "Lilith, I accept you as you are, without reservation or censure, without conditions or stipulations. In the short time I have known you, you have brutally killed four people and nearly destroyed a young man who means a lot to me. I accept that as being part of your nature. But unlike your fellow demons who have also accepted that part of you, I also accept the independent woman who was hurt by the man she loved, the caring mother who tempered a curse with compassion, and the gracious lady who spared a life to show me she was remorseful for her attempts on my life."
She looked up at him, eyes dazed and unfocused. "You can't," she said softly.
"Can't what?"
"Accept both parts of me. It can't be done. You must revile me as a demon or embrace me as such," she argued. Millennia of existence had taught her this. Men feared her, hated her, or sought her for the pleasure she could give them. Those were the only three choice humans had.
"But you're not just a demon; you were first a woman."
"Then hate me for that, ridicule my shows of mercy," she counseled. Her fellow demons did.
He cupped the fine flesh of her cheeks in his hands and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You are accepted, Lilith, love. Learn to live with it." He had. After getting to know Blair, getting to like him, he had been wary of dragging him along on his cases, cases which showed not just the evil of strangers, but the evil of Jim Ellison also. He could maim, destroy, and kill with the best of them. He could also be vulnerable, weak, and needy. Blair had calmly accepted the whole man, strengths and weaknesses alike, allowing the Sentinel to emerge at his own pace.
"What does this mean? That you accept me?" Her breath caught in her chest, and for a second, she wondered if she was dying. But that was impossible...but so were the emotions she was feeling.
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. If I can find a way of sending you back into exile without making it personal, I will. And if Michael sends another to deal with you, I won't get in the way. See, I have to be true to myself, and all that I am tells me you belong elsewhere. It's just the method I was using that was deplorable; not the action."
"Still, you invite the wrath of Michael," she pointed out, surprised to hear worry in her voice. Why did she care what the archangel would do to his very disobedient soldier?
"Perhaps, but that is something I can live with. Betraying myself, and the honor I have somehow managed to salvage, would not be survived." He kissed her, tenderly this time. "Go. I have explanations to make to friends and bosses."
"Can you explain?" Lilith asked, her voice vibrating against his chest as she pressed her lips against the hard muscle. Lust, Lilith. That's the only feeling you should have for this man. You want his body and that's all. You don't care about him. You can't care.
"Probably not at first. But my closest friends will eventually understand and those who do not, do not. I have changed myself for others for the last time," he said adamantly.
She stroked his arms, enjoying the play of corded muscle just below the warm, soft skin. The her hands brushed across the brands. "You had these covered the first time we met. Did you think I would not recognize you without them?"
"No, that wasn't it. I bled each time you took a victim. Because you have not killed recently, the wounds have healed."
Shock stilled her movements. "I hurt you with my killing? I did not know."
Beneath his hands, her black tresses felt like satin. "I know, Lilith."
Something clouded her vision and she realized it was another tear. Although she had coerced two men into making attempts on his life, Jim actually understood when she apologized for hurting him accidently. Ah, Michael. I have no defenses against this one. "Satrina," she whispered so softly that even the Sentinel had difficulty hearing her.
"What?" he asked.
"Satrina. Say it," Lilith demanded.
"Satrina," he repeated obediently. "What does it mean?"
"That is my secret name. Now that you have said it, you have dominion over me. I am yours to command," she said quietly, accepting that he had managed to find within her the one mote of dust which remained of her heart. Found it and claimed it for himself.
Jim blinked and stepped back so he could look at her. "I never asked for that."
"I know. I think that was the coup de maitre, the masterstroke." She threw her head back, the long dark hair swirling with her action. "I cannot be redeemed, Jim Ellison. I have existed as I am for far too long. But for this brief moment in time, I see how I could have been, and I am grateful. My name is my gift to you."
"What does this mean?" he asked, remembering her similar question.
"That the children can do their little recitation, and once again, I will walk alone in the desert."
"You would go willingly to that fate?"
She nodded. "I would have gone willingly just to have a taste of what you offered. Now, when I know I will never have it, why should I stay?" And long for just one hour in your arms. I will not demean your nobleness by groveling at your feet...I think.
"You would sacrifice your freedom for sex?"
"Still accepting me for who I am, detective?" she smirked. Where is your understanding now? Do I disgust you?
"As long as you accept me for who I am," he replied, sweeping her into his arms.
"A pity fuck?" Lilith questioned as he carried her up to his room.
"If it were, would you have a problem with it?"
"Hell no. I'll even let you be on top." One of Michael's monks had told her sacrifice had its own rewards. She finally understood what he meant. Pity she had killed him.
"Thought it was my choice, my command" he growled against her neck.
"Your choice is always lady's choice." She kissed him, savoring the sweet taste of his mouth. "Just accepting you as you are, darling."
"Shut up and make love to me."
Now, that was a command she would follow. "My pleasure," she purred.
Chapter Twenty
"So how does this work?" Simon asked as he watched the teens set up the candles. "The whole ritual is done in reverse?"
Blair shook his head. "Not quite. Mainly key parts of the ceremony are recited backward, sort of like a black mass."
"No bloodletting, I hope."
"With Lilith's acquiescence, the power of blood is not required to send her back."
Simon frowned. "So it's all dependent upon Jim getting Lilith to submit."
"You don't think he can do it?" Blair questioned in surprise.
"I've seen him undercover and while he's good...."
"He's better than good, Simon. You've never really seen him work his magic, have you? I guess not. He's either working a case or hanging around the guys when you're with him. But I've been with him in other settings, captain. Like at the university." Blair smiled as he recalled an incident. "I made the mistake of having him come by one of my classes one day. He was mobbed, man. They were even admiring his gun."
"A bunch of college kids, Sandburg. That doesn't prove anything," Simon argued.
"What about the women at the station?"
"Most of them flirt with you."
"Merely because I'm more approachable than Jim."
"How's that?"
Blair ticked each point off on his fingers. "1) I'm not really a colleague, so I'm safe; 2) I don't have an ex-wife who a lot of them knew personally; 3) Jim spent years as the station's resident grump, and 4) I don't physically intimidate them."
Simon nodded in agreement, amused at the time Sandburg must have spent coming up with all this. He knew the man had spent years studying Jim, but he hadn't realized the scope of the study. "Yet, you assert that they are indeed attracted to Ellison?"
"Oddly enough for the exact same reasons," Blair said excitedly. "1) He is a colleague and there's that whole forbidden fruit thing happening; 2) he had an ex-wife in the department and I'm sure Carolyn had some tales to tell in the ladies locker room; 3) he was a grump and now he's not and 4) he's a big, strong man whose very demeanor cries out 'safe haven'. Put those qualities together with his Sentinel directive to protect, and superb bone structure, and you've got a serious babe magnet. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't a few men who are attracted to him as well."
"I think I've had enough of this conversation, Sandburg," Simon said uncomfortably.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed Jim is an attractive man, Simon. It's perfectly all right to notice. In fact, advertisers bank on the knowledge that men do indeed notice other men. Do you really think they use male models just to influence female buying?"
"Didn't I say enough?" the captain muttered, but the anthropologist was on a roll.
"This is a typical American male hang-up, you know. Europeans considered us prudes and they are absolutely correct. Look at how the Renaissance artists reveled in the male form. They appreciated every angle, every--"
"Gee, looks like Teo is giving Daryl a hard time. Think I should do something, Sandburg?" Simon asked quickly.
Blair stopped talking and focused on the two teens posing in traditional confrontation stances. "Let him work it out for himself, Simon. He needs the confidence."
The voices got louder as the scene continued. "I said let it drop, Teo," Daryl ordered sharply.
"C'mon, man, you slept with a demon. You need to share the experience," Teo bullied.
"I need to forget."
"Why? Were you that bad, Banks? Did you fumble your way through the whole experience? Hell, you probably came before you got it in her, didn't you?" Teo taunted.
Blair felt Simon tense and he put out his hand, just to remind the captain not to interfere as Daryl exploded. "Fine! You want to know what happened, Teo? You want to know what it felt like to fuck a demon? It felt damn good. It felt so damn good that even now just the thought of it gets me hard. But you know what, man? It came with a price. You see, for letting me into her body, I then had to let her into mine. No. There was no letting about it. She forced her way into my mind and raped it, Teo. Everything I did was against my will, but she was stronger, and there was nothing I could do but lie back and take it. I took a gun and I went after a friend. I took that same gun and shot another one...." He took a deep breath and incredibly sad eyes engaged Teo's. "I fucked a demon, man, and then she fucked me. It wasn't worth it, Teo. It wasn't worth it at all."
"Shit, Banks," Teo replied awkwardly.
"Yeah, well, let's just get this bitch back where she belongs. And then, I swear, man, if you guys pull something like this again, I'll be the one you need to worry about, not the Sentry," Daryl warned and went back to completing the circle of candles.
"Should I feel bad about eavesdropping?" Simon whispered. Damn, he was proud of his kid.
"Probably. But after living with a Sentinel for so long, I'm kind of used to the activity. You know, I wish I had it together as well as Daryl."
"You do. That's how he's able to handle this, you know. You and Jim."
"And his father," Blair concluded. Simon shrugged, but didn't answer as Blair's cell phone trilled. "Jim?"
"Yeah, Chief, it's me. We're on our way."
Blair frowned. Something about Jim's voice.... "Everything go okay?"
"Lilith will be with me. And she'll go quietly."
"Okay, man. We'll be waiting." He clicked off the phone and slowly put it back into his pack.
"Problems?" Simon inquired.
"Apparently not."
"But?"
Blair shrugged. "He just sounded strange, that's all."
"Strange?"
"Sad, maybe. Melancholy." He looked around at the kids. "Let's get ready. This is about to happen," he informed them.
"Sandburg?" Simon pushed worriedly.
"The man said he was bringing her in, captain. The rest we will deal with when we have to."
*****
Jim sat the phone back in its cradle and looked down at the woman in his bed. "We have to go," he told her softly.
"I know." She stretched like a satisfied kitten. "Should have known you were a man of your word."
"Meaning?"
"You promised me I would be the one dying in your arms. You were right; and never has death suited me more." She reached up and traced his face, memorizing the angles. "Why so sad? It wasn't good for you?"
His eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled. "You have to ask?"
Lilith grinned knowingly. Eons of experience told her he had enjoyed himself. "Then why the sad face? It's not for me, is it?" He nodded. "Ah, love. I am eternal. Whatever time I spend in exile is like mere seconds for me and for once, I have something to think about other than revenge. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He reached for his clothes, but a touch stopped him.
"I need to leave for a few minutes, Jim Ellison. I promise you, I will return." Her mind skipped around, looking for the words to convince him to let her go. The errand was very important.
"Sure. I'm going to take a shower."
She sat up, shaking her head in frustration. Foolish man. "You know, you really shouldn't trust me so easily. Didn't Michael teach you anything before he threw you out into this battle? Tell me, did you even take time to consider the fact I may be lying to you?"
"Then you would betray me, which is more acceptable than me betraying myself," Jim said calmly.
She muttered a curse and pulled him into a hard embrace. "Damn it! Don't make me spend exile worrying about you, Jim Ellison. You're too much of an innocent for this job. What the hell was Michael thinking? Heaven's already had one sacrificial lamb. It doesn't need another one."
"You're a funny lady. Go. Do whatever it is you have to do. I'll wait here for your return." He kissed her and headed downstairs.
He sensed her return as he was using Sentinel sight to scan the back of his closet. There. He reached for a box, and turned around to greet her. "You came back. Should I feign surprise?"
She ignored him. "What's in the box?"
"A gift I'd bought Carolyn for her birthday. We didn't last long enough for the date to come around again."
"Carolyn, the stupid daughter of Eve, who let you go. If anyone deserved Adam, that witch did," Lilith said spitefully. "And all her children are just as useless."
"Well, I was going to give this to you, but now--" The box was jerked out of his hand.
"I'll never turn down anything you offer, love." She ripped off the lid and revealed a beautiful satin robe, black, trimmed in red. "It's gorgeous. And absolutely perfect for me." She let the box drop and slid into the robe.
"I just thought you needed something to cover you up. You just can't seem to remain dressed in my presence."
"Even if you weren't one of Michael's little demon hunters, I wouldn't stay dressed around you, Jim," she murmured, running her hands over the fabric. "It feels so good. This was more for you than her, wasn't it? Your magic fingers...." She walked over to the mirror. "I hate mirrors, you know. They are the gate to my desert, and they also reveal me to myself."
"I'm sorry. Do you want me to cover it?" Jim asked sympathetically.
"No. For once, I can actually stand to look at myself. I am beautiful, am I not?"
"You are."
"You make me beautiful. In fact, I think I am reflecting your beauty."
He chuckled as he came up behind her. "I am not beautiful."
"Stupid daughters of Eve and sons of Adam. To not speak of your beauty should be a sin. Take it from someone who has seen the world since it began, Jim. You are beautiful."
He figured it wasn't something worth arguing. "Thank you," he said politely.
"Never thank someone for the truth."
He lay his hand against her back. "It's time to go."
She leaned against him. "I know." He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "I want your promise that you won't regret this, love."
"Sending you back?"
"Sending me back, sleeping with me, giving me something I never had. If you had never done these things, I would not know such innocence was possible. I would not understand why mankind is worth saving."
Jim grabbed his keys. "You know, I don't understand this innocence you keep harping on. I am not an innocent, Lilith."
She held his hand as they went down the stairs. "Yes, you are. But only in the best sense of the word, my love. Only the best."