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by
Chapter Eleven
Simon faced Blair behind the closed French doors of the Guide's room and eyed the depressed figure with disguised sympathy. His head was bowed, his hands hung limply at his sides and the captain knew he could strike the kid and Blair wouldn't even flinch to defend himself.
"You feel like you let Jim down," Simon began.
"I just don't feel like it; I did."
"I agree."
That got a reaction. "I thought I was helping! The Millennium Group has resources I will never be able to access. If there was some prophecy out there that would help Jim to defeat Helaire, I wanted it."
"You wanted to give your Sentinel the answers he needed," Simon said, recalling the conversation they'd had in the emergency room. "That is to be commended. Don't you see, Sandburg? Your error was not in seeking out the Millennium Group."
"Then what was it, Simon?"
"It was in not considering the consequences of your actions. Tell me, did you actually stop once and debate whether this was the right course of action? Did you even entertain the possibility that this could be a trick or that you were leaving your soul wide-open for possession? If you had, you would have done something about it, wouldn't you? You would have donned a cross or had your holy water tucked safely in your hand, right?" Simon saw his point had struck home and the dark blue eyes filled with even more self-loathing. Not the direction he wanted the kid to take.
"Blair," he said gently, "I know for a long time you were on your own. You could come and go as you pleased, even when you were still with your mother, right?" Blair nodded. Naomi wasn't big on curfews and notes. "If you wanted to fly off to Bora Bora, you could. If you wanted to spend a week just meditating in the mountains, you just did it. I understand you got used to that. No one to answer to. No one to question your every decision, your every movement. But that's changed now, son. You have to realize you're living for two now. The decisions you make will affect another."
"You make it sound as if I'm pregnant, Simon," Blair replied with an uneasy laugh.
"Not pregnant, but divided, shared," the captain tried to explain, uncomfortable with the subject and equally unsettled by how well he understood it. "When the demon took over you, it severed the connection you have with Jim. Well, maybe not severed. Blocked is a better term because he was learning to move around it when we encountered you outside the loft," he realized. "I think that was how he read your intent when you were going to throw yourself down the stairs..."
"Simon, I think you've spent way too much time with me," Blair said, recognizing the way the captain's thoughts were flowing from his original idea to another tangent.
Simon looked sufficiently mortified. "What I'm trying to tell you is that when you were taken over, Jim dropped like a brick. I'm not sure whether it was the shock of being separated from you or just the emptiness in his head. If he had been driving or in the middle of a case..."
"Or fighting a criminal with a gun..." Blair concluded, paling visibly. "I could have killed him and not even known it, Simon."
"I'm not telling you this to make you feel worse, Blair. I'm telling you because it's something you need to know, that you have to face, and maybe hearing it will cause it to soak into that knowledge-filled head of yours. Blair Sandburg is no longer that unattached kid with just a backpack and an attitude. You're part of something, son. Something good, but demanding. You're going to have to look before you leap, question before you act, discuss before you go out on the ledges."
"You can leave off the last one, man; I'm scared of heights," he teased, to hide the emotions welling up in him. He had expected Simon to blast him, but instead he had stood there and given him all this good advice that could only come from a deep understanding of the relationship he had with Jim. It meant, in short, that Simon cared, not just as a friend nor just as their Watcher, but as a committed member in this weird, unorthodox, crimefighting trio they had formed. "Thank you, Simon. You were right; I needed to hear the words to truly understand. It's not me anymore; it's us-- Jim, me, and you. You just proved you're not just the Sentinel's staff, man. The Guide is doing his share of leaning on you too."
Simon smiled. "That's what I'm here for. Now, let's go see what T'Dette has cooked up."
Blair's hand on his arm held him back. "About that ledge, captain. I want to go out on one now."
"Which one would that be?"
"I want to join Jim."
"Is that possible?"
He shrugged. "I think so. As a shaman, I can transcend this plane of existence easily enough. The problem will be to get to where Jim is. The link we share should be strong enough to carry me to him, especially now since his psi levels are so high."
"What are the risks?"
"That I don't find him, that I do find him and distract him at some crucial point in his fight with Helaire, or that I find him and he has lost to Helaire. If I am with him when he dies, I die too."
Simon shook his head. "Then the risks are too great."
"What good would I be without him anyway?"
"I hope, Sandburg," Simon said strongly, "that that was not a knock of your self-worth. Hell, man, surely you know how valuable you are not just as Jim's partner at work or in this. Tell me this isn't where this discussion is going."
"It's not, Simon," Blair said quickly, wishing he had kept the statement to himself. "It's just that I need to do this. I did something foolish this afternoon and I want to atone for it. I was Jim's weakness. Now, I need to be his strength. I can do this, Simon. I know I can."
The captain sighed, knowing exactly what Jim would say if he were there. But he wasn't and that was the issue. His eyes flicked to the french doors where one partner lay literally comatose and suddenly pictured the other just as still beside him. He sighed heavily, knowing he could lose both... but he had always known that. And if he had any chance of getting his team back, it would be because they were together. "Okay, Sandburg. Go get your partner."
*****
Blair found himself in a desert.
He recalled sitting lotus-style in the floor beside Jim. Simon had been there, lighting the appropriate candles. He'd felt himself relax, realized how close he was to "leaving" and had reached both hands out to place over Jim's heart. And now he was here, wherever here was. He felt a momentary twinge of panic, aware of how easily he could get lost in the vast wasteland. Then he took a deep breath and sought for that which connected him to Jim. The imaginary thread beckoned across the arid landscape and he followed it toward the distant horizon.
The thing he noticed and found oddly disconcerting was that the closer he drew to the place he was being drawn to, that which was drawing him grew weaker instead of stronger. By the time he thought he saw an outline breaking up the stark, barren expanse, he couldn't feel anything of the link he had with Jim. Was, as had happened earlier, something blocking it? Did that mean...? No. Jim couldn't have been taken over. He wouldn't have allowed it. He would die before giving up his...
Despite the soft, shifting sand beneath his feet, Blair covered the distance in record time, halting only when the outline became a form and the form became a body... Jim's body.
Chapter Twelve
"Oh, man, be okay," he murmured as he kneeled beside Jim, who was ominously sprawled along the hot sand. "You have to be okay, Jim. Please don't tell me I'm too late." He searched frantically for a pulse but his hand trembled too much for an accurate reading, so he settled for placing his palm against the broad chest, still wrapped in protective bandages, and was rewarded with a rhythmic rise and fall.
Satisfied Jim was unconscious but alive, he checked for injuries and was appalled by the number of bruises marring the man. "Someone certainly did a number on you, big guy," he said sympathetically. He wished he had something to make Jim regain consciousness, but the desert was appropriately barren and besides Jim would just hurt when he came to. "You wake up when you want to, Jim. I can wait." He lifted Jim's head and placed it gently in his lap. He caressed his face lightly, wincing as he traced the deep ruts caused by his own fingers, injuries which looked ten times worse surrounded by the newly bruised and swollen flesh. "Man, you just can't seem to catch a break today, can you?"
Moments later, Blair felt the jawbone flex beneath his hand and a sibilant hiss of pain blew from Jim's mouth. The eyes fluttered experimentally. "Jim? C'mon, Jim. Wake up, man. But easily, okay? You're gonna be in pain."
"No shit?" Jim said dryly. "Hey, Chief. Good thing my Sentinel abilities aren't on line here. I don't think there's been a button built that could control the way I feel at the moment." He tried to smile as his blue eyes found his friend's, but his mouth refused to comply. Must have been a hell of a fight. Then he remembered everything. "Damn it! Why am I alive? I'm supposed to be dead. I should be dead!" He tried to raise his head and look around, glad for the support Blair gave him as he sat up partially. "Where are you, you bitch! Why aren't I dead?" he yelled.
"Jim, man, take it easy," Blair crooned. "Why are acting like being alive is such a sin? I'm kinda happy about it, if you ask me."
Jim appreciated the sentiment, but Blair didn't understand. "If I'm alive, then there's a chance he's alive and that means I lost. But I won't lose to Helaire, Chief. I can't."
"I know, partner, and you won't. Who's supposedly alive?"
"Me."
"I know that, Jim," Blair said indulgently, realizing from the bruising Jim may have a concussion. "But you said if you were alive, there was a chance he was alive. Who is the he?"
"Me," Jim repeated. "I had to fight me... Ellison because he was Helaire's champion. I had to kill him."
Blair patiently processed Jim's words and came up with a conclusion. "Helaire made you fight a double? A demon in the guise of your body?"
"Wasn't just a double. It was me. I have the bruises as proof," Jim added, pleased at how quickly Blair understood.
"When you hit him, you hit yourself?" Jim nodded. "And when you killed him, you..."
Jim nodded again. "I had no choice, Chief. You know that, don't you?" he added as he saw the despair in Blair's eyes.
"I know, Jim." He understood, but that didn't ease the ache.
"But instead of being dead, I'm here... and so are you. What are you doing here, Chief?" It just hit him that Blair was supposed to be safely back at the loft. "Did something happen? Has Helaire--"
"No," Blair said quickly, not needing Sentinel senses to tell him his partner was getting agitated. "Everyone is safe. I just needed to be here with you, okay? You shouldn't have run off with Helaire like that. Without telling us, without saying goodbye, without... me. Simon has quite a lecture waiting for you when we get back."
"I'm sorry, Chief. You're right; I shouldn't have sneaked off like that. But I was scared... for all of you. You're the one that pointed out how many of my responses are fear-based, remember?"
Blair sighed, once again regretting the phrasing he'd used in the instruction to his doctoral thesis. "Admit it, Jim. You were scared because of me, because I had been possessed once and you thought it could happen again." He tightened the grip he had on his partner. "But it wouldn't have happened again, Jim. I know what I did wrong and knowing takes care of the problem. Trust me."
Jim patted the hand holding him securely around the chest. "I do, Chief."
"Isn't that sweet?"
Jim's eyes narrowed as Helaire came into focus a few yards away. "What's going on, Helaire? Is the fight over or not?"
"It's over; you lost."
"Did not." He not only remembered the sound of the cracking of the bones, but had felt them shift in his own neck. "What kind of sick game are you playing, bitch? If there's someone else I have to defeat, bring him on. I'm ready." He shrugged off Blair's support to sit up on his own, Blair's staying at his back to catch him if he faltered.
"No, Jim. Tell her we're ready," Blair said confidently.
"Why don't you tell her, Chief?"
"Fine. Where is she?"
"You... you can't see her, Blair?" he asked hesitantly. Helaire waggled her fingers in his direction. Didn't she?
"No, I can't see her, big guy, but that's okay. If you say she's here, she's here."
"But..." Had he not died, but gone insane instead?
"Jim, look at me." It was a demand, not a request, and the Sentinel obeyed. "I am not here to be with Helaire. I am here to be with you. You are the only person I need to see. Do you understand?"
Jim nodded and turned to face Helaire again. But this time she wasn't alone. A man stood next to her. "Is that my new challenger?"
The man smiled and walked forward. "You have it all wrong, Jim. I'm not here to challenge you. In fact, I'm here to tell you that you did indeed win. And I have a bonus to offer you."
He waved his arm and a window opened in the panoramic desert view. Through the window Jim saw himself and Blair. They were out in a field, laughing. There were kids yelling in the background and two women were kneeling on a blanket, spreading out food.
"BJ," one of the women called out. "Gather the kids. It's time to eat."
"Aw, Mom," a boy of about fourteen muttered as he appeared from behind a large oak.
"Don't you 'Aw, Mom' me, Blair James Ellison! Where's your brother, Stevie?"
"Down at the creek with Jamie and Simon, of course." His mom had to know that Stevie never went anywhere without Jamie and Simon Sandburg. The three were inseparable and impossible. Both sets of parents thought the trio was cute. As the eldest, and the one who had dedicated himself to the task of keeping them out of too much trouble, BJ knew cute wasn't the word he'd use.
"And Sally?" the woman questioned anxiously. Her baby, the one lone female in the combined brood, was the worst of the lot.
"She went with Uncle Simon to pick up Daryl and Sheila at the airport. She wanted to be the first to see the twins."
"Poor Simon," the other woman said, feeling sorry for the man. The three youngest kids were a handful separate. Together... She shuddered. "BJ, would you do me a favor and tell everyone it's time to eat, including your father and Uncle Blair," she asked with a bright smile.
"Anything for my favorite aunt." The boy rushed to do her bidding.
His mother rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I'm not sure if the kids know which of us they belong to."
The other woman smiled. "Does it matter?"
The women embraced. "No, it doesn't matter at all."
The window closed. Jim sighed longingly and looked at the newcomer. "So what's the deal, Monty Hall?"
The man smiled appreciatively. "Wicked sense of humor there, Jim. Okay, for all the great departing gifts behind door No. 1, you don't have to do a thing. I mean that, literally. No more interference from the wonderfully capable Sentinel and his band of Merry Men, right?"
"And door No. 2?"
"The usual find-a-Guide, damage-a-Guide scenario. Look at how lovingly he backs you up. Wouldn't you like to see him live a life of peace, find a woman who won't try to kill him or be a target herself? Wouldn't you like to go to Cascade General to visit a friend and not be on first-name basis with most of the staff? All of that is possible, Jim."
"Wives and children too?"
The stranger came and sat on the sand beside him. "Definitely. You know, I should have shown you little Sally. Oh, she's a heartbreaker, your youngest. She'll marry one of the Sandburg boys, the one who will be her Guide actually, and then your families will be joined in actual blood. You and Blair, sharing grandchildren. Nice, huh?"
"And all I have to do is..."
"Nothing," he confirmed. "Just say the word and everything will be taken care of. Nothing but blue skies ahead for you and your partner."
"What about her?" Jim asked, angling his head toward Helaire.
His new "friend" shrugged. "What do you want to do about her? After all, you won. It's your choice. Burned at the stake? Drawn and quartered? Sliced and diced and served as an appetizer?"
"Can I have a minute to decide?" Jim asked politely.
"Sure, pal. Maybe you'd like a little time alone to discuss it with your partner? I understand." He stood and wiped the sand off the seat of his pants. "I'll go keep Helaire company. Just give a yell when you're ready."
Jim nodded and slumped back against the sand. "What's happening, Jim?" Blair asked anxiously.
"I've been made an offer I can't refuse."
"And?"
"I'm thinking about refusing it."
"Anything I can do to help?" Blair inquired, seeing the indecision on Jim's face.
"I don't think so, Chief. I think this is one of those decisions I have to make on my own." Even though it involves you in a big way. And the bad thing about it, Chief, is that it's really nothing I have to think about. I know my answer, my choice. I have always known. I'm just delaying the answer because... because it's unfair to you to rush it... because in a way, it's a betrayal of everything I feel for you even though I know you will understand, even applaud my decision. "I'm sorry, Blair," he said softly.
"For what? For not discussing this with me?"
"No, for what I am about to condemn you to." He turned his head to face his friend squarely. "I love you."
Blair blinked at the sudden declaration. It didn't bode well. Actually, neither did the words, "what I am about to condemn you to." Something big was about to happen. "I love you too, Jim, no matter what," he pledged solemnly.
Jim nodded and scrambled to his feet. This was something he would do standing. "Hey!"
The man smiled and ambled over. "That was pretty quick, but it really wasn't that hard of a decision, was it?"
"No, it wasn't," Jim said and although every bone and muscle in his body ached, he pulled himself straight and stared directly into the man's eyes. "I choose... Door No. 2."
The smile faded. "I'm sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly."
"I will not yield," Jim said firmly. "I will not allow you and your kind to roam freely in my territory. I will use whatever strength, whatever talents I have been given, to destroy you."
"What about little Sally?" the man asked, his eyes becoming the same black pools Blair had used against him earlier. Jim looked, but did not sink.
"If she is to exist, she will. If not, then that is a sacrifice I willingly make."
"And what if I say that will not be your only sacrifice? What if I threaten to take your Guide at this very minute?"
"My answer will remain the same. But I guarantee you will not just 'take' him. I will fight you with all that I am," Jim warned.
"Which is what? You are nothing here. You are merely a man," he sneered arrogantly.
"But I am not." Both turned at the sound of the new voice. "You know the rules, Ahriman. Be gone with you."
"You know the rules too, Michael. Their souls are for the taking."
"Their souls are for the asking," Michael corrected. "You asked and he refused. Despite the battle, despite your petty temptations. Therefore, you no longer have business here. Go and take that one with you," he said, pointing to Helaire.
"No! This one was promised to me! I will have him!"
Jim was starting to feel like a meaty morsel that both men wanted, yet something compelled him to keep his mouth shut as the two men stared at each other, neither willing to give in. Suddenly the one called Michael blinked and behind him appeared a magnitude of... of what? Jim could not find the words to describe the beings which walked and floated and hovered protectively around Michael. Some looked human. Others were winged and had more than one face... animals they were, then men again.
"The scheduled time for our battle has not arrived," Michael was saying, "but I'm flexible."
Both Jim and Ahriman marveled at the sight; but while Jim was fascinated, Ahriman was terrified. "Let's not be hasty, Michael. Is he so important to you that you would risk all out war between us?"
"Yes." There was not even the slightest hesitation.
"Then take him. There are always others." Ahriman stomped away, jerking Helaire by the arm as they melted into the desert's background.
Michael looked at Jim and winked.
Chapter Thirteen
Turning slightly, Michael bowed fractionally and his companions disappeared as quickly as they had coalesced. "It's always easy to bluff a coward," he said as he contemplated the man before him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jim. By now you know my name is Michael."
Jim nodded warily. "And what do you want of me?"
"That which you have already given. You have no need to fear me, Jim. I am not here to harm you nor your partner. In fact, why don't we send him home now? The danger is past. Helaire's cause is lost."
"And me? What happens to me?' Jim asked, knowing he would have to tell Blair something in order to get him to leave.
"You and I will have a little talk, then you will join your Guide and Watcher and all will be as it is meant to be."
Jim wished briefly that his Sentinel abilities worked here so he could tell if Michael were being truthful, but if he were honest with himself, he would admit that he didn't need to "sense" Michael was telling the truth. He just knew it. "Chief, it's over," he said to Blair and the younger man's eyes took on a watery gleam. "No, Chief, not that kind of over. I mean over as in 'live to fight another day' over."
Blair bowed his head and said a quick prayer. "Does that mean we can go home now?"
"I need you to go now. I'll be along a little later."
"We shouldn't separate."
Jim admired his friend's stubbornness and wrapped stiff arms around him in a quick embrace. "It's okay this time, Chief. The danger is past. I just have to... to tie up a few loose ends. I'll be home soon."
"You promise?" Blair asked carefully, knowing how seriously Jim took his promises.
"I promise. And Blair, thanks for being here for me. Your support made a difficult decision a lot easier," Jim admitted, although he knew Blair had no idea of what he was talking about. But he would share all when he got home. "Go on, Chief. Everything will be fine." He watched his partner disappear across the sand, sure of his direction, before turning to the one who remained. "You wanted to talk, Michael?"
Michael nodded. "Shall we walk as we do this?"
Jim grimaced. "I'm not sure how far I will make it," he warned.
"Oh, how careless of me," Michael said and took Jim's hand. In less than a second, he was completely healed. "Do you believe that all which happens is for a reason?" he asked as Jim fell into step beside him.
Jim nodded. "Although most of the time I can't figure out the reason."
"Maybe you were not meant to."
"Maybe," Jim agreed easily enough.
"What occurred here today was for reasons you are meant to know, Jim. Because of events in your past, you have lived with doubts about your worthiness to have the authority you have been given. Your senses are heightened. You converse with the spirits. Of late you have found yourself raising the bones of the dead and going one on one with demons sent straight from Hell. You wonder why it is you; not in the sense of self-pity but in the sense of 'why have I been chosen when I know what I have been in the past?' Look no more to your past for reasons to doubt yourself, Jim. Today, you defeated that old part of you. Even though you were forgiven long ago, now, perhaps you can forgive yourself."
Jim nearly stumbled as he realized the truth of Michael's words. Today, he had fought with the Ellison who was commanded by others, had committed sins in their names... and he had banished him. He no longer existed. Jim Ellison was only who he was today or had been since he walked away from that life. His shoulders straightened as that burden melted away.
"You have also worried that what you feel for Blair is too strong, that his influence over you is too great. It was not that you didn't trust him; it was that you didn't trust yourself. You were concerned that in defense of him you would hesitate at a crucial moment or falter when presented the choice of his life against that which you knew to be right. Those doubts too has been dispelled. It is the love that you share which gave you the strength to turn your back on temptation, to fully submit to the call you have answered."
"Which is?" Jim asked.
"To be one of my warriors." Michael stopped and turned to Jim. He clasped both hands against the Sentinel's forearms and Jim felt an odd warmth surge through his body.
When Michael removed his hands, Jim found small brands tattooed on his arms. On his right was a sword, intricately detailed and double-edged. On his left was a scale similar to the one Lady Justice bore. "What is this?"
"You now bear the marks of Michael, commander-in-chief of the armies of Heaven, Jim. The sword labels you a warrior, the balance is a reminder that your soul has been weighed and found worthy." Michael smiled and Jim had to close his eyes against the brilliance that emanated from his patron-- his leader.
"What happens now?" he asked curiously when his eyes adjusted to the light.
"Evil will recognize you and fear you as my warrior. Some will cower and shrink in your presence. Others. I fear, will attack in hope of destroying that which will destroy them. Most, however, will remain hidden, watching and waiting like carrion eaters, until you are weakened and vulnerable. They will be the most dangerous."
Jim nodded, understanding what Michael was telling him. It wasn't bad enough that he was pursued because he was a Sentinel, but now he was also on the hit list because he was a Warrior. He looked over his shoulder. "Is there a bulls-eye pasted on my back or what?"
"You do not accept?"
Jim rolled his eyes. "I accepted when I turned down Ahriman's offer. And no, I don't have any doubts as to my 'worthiness' to fulfill this role. But I do question why. Why me?"
"Because it is your destiny. As it is your companions'. This I must press upon you also, you must learn to rely on the counsel of your Guide and lean on the strength of your Watcher. Recognition of their significance is not something to be discussed and appreciated only in times of interim peace. Their usefulness is in the heat of battle. Their purpose is to ease your burden when you need it most. Do not diminish their worthiness by leaving them behind. Their feelings for you are as resolute as yours for them. Love always strengthens. Remember that."
"I will," Jim vowed. "And what about you? Do I report to you for orders? Is there some code word I need to yell when I need you? Or have I been given these marks and left to my own devices?"
"If you follow your instincts, as well as your heart, you will know my orders. If you need me, I will be there," Michael explained patiently. "You will do fine, you know. Otherwise, you would not have been chosen."
"I'm sorry, sir," Jim said softly, remembering he was, in fact, talking to his general. He was officially, as he glanced at the brands on his arms, a member of Heaven's army... under the direct command of the supreme commander himself. Of all the "unreal" things that had happened to him in the past year, this had to be the most fantastic. "If there are anymore words of wisdom you'd like to impart, I'm eagerly listening."
"With your ears, I'm sure you are," Michael said jokingly. "I've worked with mortals before and it has mainly been a 'fear not and behold' kind of experience. You know, the light, the wings, songs in the night sky type of deal. This one-on-one relationship is a new one for me."
"Why the change?" Jim asked as they continued their walk.
Michael shrugged. "It is how it is to be. But I think 'someone's' trying to teach me something."
"Oh, you don't get straight answers either?"
"Words rarely teach as well as actions."
"Well, what are you being taught?"
"I kicked Lucifer and his minions out of Heaven because they refused to bow before man."
"That was the big sin, huh? I had often wondered when I heard the stories."
"Well, don't believe everything you hear," Michael warned, a teasing glint in his eyes. "But, the truth of the matter is that angels are not above man. We were not created as such but it is sort of difficult to remember that when we see..."
"Us mortals acting like damn fools?"
Michael laughed. "Something like that. But now I am forced to recognize your complexity... and appreciate it. You will be a great teacher, I believe."
"Yeah, if you're looking for a man full of complications, I'm your guy," Jim said dryly, although he was pleased by the comment. As pleased as he was scared. It was definitely time to talk to Sandburg.
"I look forward to our times together, Jim. But now, there is someone who wishes to say goodbye before you return to your Guide and Watcher." Michael faded as the landscape turned from desert to bayou.
"Jim!" Alicia cried happily. "Did I see you talking to who I thought I saw you talking to?"
"Oui," Jim said as he untangled the words. "I'm working for him."
Alicia traced the brands on his arms and beamed up at him. "And you thought I didn't know what I was talking about when I called you mon ange."
"I'm no angel, Lici." In more ways than one.
"You are to me, Jim Ellison. You always were."
He looked away in embarrassment. "I forgot to ask what happened to Helaire."
"Maman is no longer a threat. She promised your soul and did not deliver. Her associates were unforgiving."
"I'm sorry," he said. Not for Helaire, but Alicia was her daughter.
"She chose her bed, mon ange. Now she must lie in it. Her reckoning has come. There is balance now."
"So it is over." She nodded. "Does that mean we are over as well?"
"Non! We are connected here," she pointed first to her head, then to her heart, "and here. I and the others will always be here for you. And I think you now need us more than ever."
His sensitive fingers traced one of the marks. "I think you're right. Be happy, ma fille."
"Be well, mon ange. Until we meet again." She kissed his cheek, then hugged him.
"Until we meet again," he repeated and returned the hug as only a warrior of Michael's could.
Chapter Fourteen
Simon had almost disappeared on another plane of his existence himself when he saw Blair jerk, then blink. "Sandburg, you back?"he asked in a harsh whisper.
Blair blinked again, trying to get his bearing. Then he grinned at the captain. "Yeah, Simon, I'm back and I have great news!"
"Jim beat Helaire."
The smile was replaced by confusion. "How did you know?"
"Took a call for Jim a short while ago. His contacts down in Louisiana wanted him to know Helaire was dead. Said she came out of the coma screaming, then her heart just stopped. They tried to revive her but no dice." Simon tried to sound somber, but it was hard feeling sorry about her death.
"Well, she asked for everything she got," Blair said, not even pretending to be sad. "You won't believe what she put Jim through. He had to fight himself and thought he'd killed himself until he woke up after I arrived. He was happy about not being dead but he was worried Helaire had won and you know how he felt about that. I wonder if he knows she's dead because he was still talking to her a little while before I left and I remember he was asking someone about what would happen to her. I don't know who he was talking to because I couldn't see the people he was seeing but that was okay because I wasn't really there, you know. It was his dream plane not mine so it only made sense he could see what I couldn't, don't you think?"
Simon stared at him in slack-jawed disbelief. One of these days he was going to get a recorder and tape Blair when he had one of his run-on spells and maybe then, if he played it back little by little, he would understand at least part of what the anthropologist was saying. How in the world did Jim manage to keep up with him? "Yeah, makes sense to me too, Sandburg. So where is Jim?" He looked to the still unconscious man.
"Oh, he said he had to tie up a few loose ends, whatever that means. He was in a lot of pain, though. I don't know how much of it he will bring back with him, but then again, he left with some too," Blair added, remembering how Jim got the pain.
"Don't tell me you've lived with the man so long, you're starting to pick up the Ellison Method of Guilt Mismanagement? Give it a rest, Sandburg. If you were so guilty, do you think you would have been able to reach Jim? Wouldn't it have blocked the 'vibes' or something?"
"Guilt mismanagement, huh? I like that, Simon," Blair said, with a laugh that changed to a groan as he tried to get up from the floor. "Man, I feel like I've been sitting here for hours."
"You have. Three in fact. That's why everyone is in bed except you and me. Let me give you a hand."
So that's why we're whispering. Blair stretched out the kinks and looked around. Upright, he could see Rankin and Allen sleeping across the room in his and Jim's sleeping bags. He assumed T'Dette and Flip were upstairs in Jim's room since he didn't see them anywhere. "Daryl in my room?" Simon nodded. "A full house, huh?"
"Rankin made hotel reservations for his partner, himself, and T'Dette but we didn't think it was a good idea for anyone to leave. I knew for a fact Jim would want Flip to stay," Simon explained as he plopped back down on the loveseat.
Blair collapsed beside him. "It felt as if I was only gone an hour at the longest, Simon. At this rate, it may be a while before Jim gets back. Why don't you get a little shut-eye? I'll keep watch."
"Yeah? And who'll watch you?" Simon asked with a chuckle as his eyes involuntarily started to close. As a policeman he was used to late nights and early mornings, but rarely had such days involved battling the forces of darkness. Of course, there was that time when...
Blair smiled as the captain drifted easily into a deep sleep. Poor Simon. Worrying about his son, his men, and everyone else in the city. The Watcher definitely needed to rest. But not the Guide. As everyone knew, a grad student had the capacity to go for days without sleep. Yes, indeed. He could sit there and watch Jim for at least several more hours...
*****
Jim was aware of the sound before anything else. It was the sound of his partner's heartbeat mixed with that of his captain's. Familiar, comforting. He opened his eyes and welcomed the sight of the loft, dark to most eyes but not to his. He heard the presence of the others, all accounted for and sleeping peacefully. Carefully, he got up from the sofa, shaking his head at the sight of Blair and Simon once again curled up together in restful sleep. Keep this up and people are gonna talk. With considerable effort, he managed not to snicker too loudly.
He went to the bathroom, removing the tape around his chest and the bandages from his face and hand. He was completely healed, no visible scars remaining. Rambling through the basket of clean clothes that Blair was supposed to have distributed days ago, he grabbed a sweater and shrugged into it.
Then he headed for the balcony and realized that Blair and Simon had been right; this was the place where he came when he needed to contemplate the big issues. But for now, he was just content to be there, on his terrace, looking out at his city. Things had changed since he had last looked; he had changed since then. In the battle between good and evil, he had always thought of himself as being on the side of good. But now, as he traced one of the brands beneath the sweater, he knew what side he was on and the weird thing was that he felt stronger now that he knew, as if the doubts Michael had accused him of having had been holding him back.
He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as the sun began to tinge the sky the most delicate shade of lavender. Then he turned to face the men stirring behind him. "Morning, guys."
"Everything okay, Jim?" Blair asked cautiously. Then he noticed the bandages were gone. "Jim! Your face, man! It's..."
"Gorgeous as usual?" Jim prompted when Blair couldn't find the words. Sentinel ears heard the Watcher stifling a laugh. "Michael wouldn't send back damaged good, Chief."
"Michael? Is that one of people you were talking to?"
"Not exactly a person, Chief." He motioned to the two wooden chairs. "Both of you better have a seat. This is going to take some explaining."
"Jim, do you realize what this means?" Blair exclaimed when Jim finished his long and fantastical story. "This is so incredible! Do you know how much apocrypha you've just rewritten? Hell, how much you can write yourself? The Archangel Michael, head of the angel army is found in more than just Christianity or Judaism. Islamic texts, Zoroastrian Avesta..."
"Jim, do you have any idea what the hell he's going on about?" Simon asked casually.
"Not a clue, captain. Sometimes he gets us confused with his buds down at the university. Forgets we haven't devoted our lives to the study of man and all his hobbies, like religion. Then again, we do study man, don't we, captain? I mean, it's only his bad hobbies, but it's a study nonetheless. Oh, no, Simon! We're... we're anthropologists!"
"Please, Jim, not that! Oh, the horror!" Simon wailed, draping his arm across his forehead.
"Okay, guys, I get your drift," Blair protested halfheartedly. It just felt so good to hear the familiar teasing and watch Jim and Simon horse around. "Guess I mixed up which set of 'anthropologists' I was talking to." That elicited a round of groans and he shook his head at their antics as he continued. "Apocrypha is the stuff mainstream religions won't touch. Books and texts that don't exactly follow the party line and can't be proven-- as if any of it can be definitively. Some, actually quite a lot of it, deals with angels-- seeing them, talking to them, receiving prophecy."
"Sorry, Chief. I didn't pick up any prophecies. Guess Oprah won't be inviting me to her show after all."
"Michael didn't do a thing to improve your sense of humor."
"Actually, he kinda liked it. So did what's-his-name... Ahriman."
"Ahriman?" Blair asked excitedly.
"Yeah, that's the guy with Helaire, the one that tried to tempt me."
"Oh, man! This just gets better and better. Ahriman is like the angel of the black arts in Zoroastrianism. It fits that Helaire was one of his disciples. Oh, Jim, the religion department would love to get their hands on you for a day, even an hour."
"Gee, Simon, seems as if he can't sell the Sentinel to the major networks, he gonna try and sell me to that new religious channel, PAX," Jim said acerbically. "Why don't we just cut to the chase, Sandburg, and go straight to QVC. We can copy my brands onto T-shirts, sell them in camouflage green, and the kids can go around as members of Michael's Army."
"Jim, man, you don't actually think--"
Jim smiled and clasped his partner's shoulder. "No, Chief. I don't think that at all. I know you wouldn't try to market the Sentinel or whatever I've become now. I'm just teasing you because I don't think it's hit you yet what all of this means. Look at Simon. Maybe you can't hear the grinding of his teeth, desperately in search of the cigar that's usually hanging between them, but even you can see that little crease right between his eyes that tells you he understands exactly what I've told you. At the moment, he's both arguing with himself that this could not have happened and trying to figure out what kind of back up to call when we get ourselves into a jam fighting the dark forces."
"And do you also see me getting my son and leaving?" Simon asked sourly. He turned to Blair, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Seems you need to 'hear' again, Sandburg. Jim has just told us that he's now a card-carrying member of the great Archangel Michael's mighty army. That means that not only criminals will be after him, but a whole bunch of the same shitheads we ran into this weekend, not to mention the crackpots that pretend to be these shitheads. As his Guide and his Watcher, not to mention his friend, we are part of this. At times we will be behind him, beside him, and if need be, in front of him to take on the challengers until he is able to do so. You think this is cool? Well, it's not. It's dangerous. It's foolhardy and it's probably gonna take more guts than either of us thinks he has. It's also gonna screw our personal lives to hell. Sorry, honey, but I have some demons to slay tonight. Oh, that banging at the door? Just an imp whose ass I have to kick. Why? Because I have pledged my loyalty to one who is designated a warrior in Michael's army. I'm sure our dates will race out the door, either laughing or screaming for the men in white coats to drag us away.
"At least the people down at the university will just think you're off doing something for the police department when you disappear into the nether world, Sandburg. Hell, I'm a police captain. I have meetings to attend, assignments to mete out, reports to complete, and asses to kiss in order to keep my people stocked in bullets and Post-It Notes. I don't have time to be jerked around by some goddamned demon who wants to get his jollies by taking out one of 'Michael's boys'. I'm sure that's a high honor somewhere in Hell."
"So what are you saying?" Jim asked quietly.
"What I'm saying," Simon said solemnly as he replaced his glasses, "is sign me up. Sounds like it's going to be a helluva ride."
Jim let out a relieved laugh. "Damn it, you had me going there, Simon. I was pretty certain Sandburg was foolish enough to go along with this--"
"Hey, I resent that," Blair exclaimed, but was ignored.
"But you, sir... I knew you had a better sense of self-preservation," Jim continued.
"Just trying to keep you on your toes, Jim," Simon explained. "You've been spoiled by Sandburg's instant obedience."
Jim stared at him. "Instant obedience? When did that occur? The last time I told him to stay in the truck?" He shook his head. "Yesterday, when I told him to stay in the loft? Nah. Not then either. Damn, Simon, I must have blinked and missed it."
Simon laughed aloud. "Okay, okay, I get your point, Jim."
"I think I've been insulted," Blair muttered.
"It ain't that, Sandburg," Simon offered. "It's just that we have your number."
"And I have yours," Blair replied with an evil grin. "I knew you were just playing Jim. You're just as committed to this 'arrangement' as I am. You're just a big softie, captain."
"I'll show you soft, Sandburg," Simon threatened.
"Sounds like everything is back to normal," Daryl said, yawning as he stepped out onto the balcony. "Does this mean I can go back home? I have school tomorrow."
The three older men looked at each other, then at Daryl. Teenager... wanting to go to school? Ah... "So who is she?" they chorused.
Yeah, Daryl sighed. Everything was back to normal.
Chapter Fifteen
"Hey, sweetheart," Jim called to the little girl sitting so forlornly in one of the plastic chairs that was so familiar at Cascade International Airport. Rankin and Allen had already left with their two prisoners and Jim had volunteered to see Flip and T'Dette off. Although he was completely healthy, Simon had ordered him to take the day off and Blair had gone the university to give an exam.
"Hey, Da... Mr. Jim," Flip replied, weaving her fingers together and refusing to look at him.
Jim took the seat next to her. "You seem awfully sad for someone who is going home."
"I'm 'kay, Mr. Jim."
He nodded and started playing with his own fingers, mimicking her movements. "Got tired of me being your daddy, huh? That's why I'm back to being Mr. Jim?"
"No!" she said loudly. "But the game's over. I got no reason to be your little girl no more." Her voice dropped to a sad whisper.
"I guess my wanting you to be my little girl isn't reason enough, is it?"
She finally looked at him. "You want me?"
The disbelief in her words broke his heart. He could tell it startled T'Dette too, who was studiously "not listening" in the next seat. Kids. Who knew what went through their minds... "You didn't think I would?" She shook her head. "But I do, Flip."
She looked happy for a moment, then the hazel eyes lost their luster again. "I'm not supposed to tell lies."
Jim was impressed, but frustrated. Then he had an idea. "What do you think a daddy is, Flip?" Her tiny shoulders shrugged. "Do you a think a daddy is supposed to protect you? I protected you, didn't I? And a daddy is supposed to find you if you get lost or need rescuing. Well, I've done those things too." Unfortunately, he added silently. Was he really doing her a favor by allowing her to stay connected to him?
"And he calls his little girl on her birthday and she can make him stuff for Father's Day and get him somethin' for Christmas?" Flip threw out for consideration.
"Sounds feasible." She looked at him in confusion. "I think we can manage that," he translated and received a brilliant smile in return. Oh, what the hell. "Come with me," he said, holding out his hand. She started off with him, then looked back at her mother who nodded.
Jim took her to the tiny photo booth they had passed on the way in. In minutes, Flip was racing toward her mother with a strip of pictures in her hand. "Mama, look! Me and Daddy took pictures together! I can show them to everyone back home."
"That's very nice, Philip Marie. Did you thank your daddy for them?" T'Dette prompted.
Flip lifted her arms and Jim swung her up into the air. The arms settled around his neck, just as the flight to New Orleans was called. "Thank you, Daddy. I'm going to miss you."
"It'll be okay, baby," T'Dette said, reaching out to take Flip from Jim. "You'll see him again sooner than either of you expect."
Flip nodded, assured her mother knew what she was talking about. Still... "The angel will look after you, Daddy," she called as she and T'Dette started through the door.
"He'll look after us all," Jim said softly and waved goodbye.
*****
"Jim! You're home, man," Blair called as he stepped into the loft.
"Where else would I be?" Jim complained as he threw down the book he had stared at for the past hour. "Simon had about enough of me as he could take, but being too polite to say so, he gave me the day off instead. Flip and T'Dette took off three hours ago and T'Dette left the refrigerator and the cabinets so full, I didn't have to go to the market. And everyone I know is busy at work."
"In other words, you're bored."
"Yes."
"So, this would probably be a good time to talk."
"About what?"
Blair rolled his eyes. "C'mon, man. Your life changed over the weekend."
"Our lives changed," Jim corrected. "The glow finally starting to dim for you?"
"Even you can't be but so nonchalant about this, Jim. You were 'touched by an angel'. That has to have changed you on some elemental level."
"I'm still me, Sandburg. If you're looking for some hint of a huge conversion, some display of my newfound faith, it ain't gonna happen."
Blair sighed. The guy wasn't into displays, period. Except for when they were in the desert and he had told him point-blank that he loved him. Hmmmm. Maybe he could find out some more about that incident. "So you were tempted by the infamous Ahriman. What tempts the great Jim Ellison, man of stone? Wealth, power, women?"
Jim knew he could glare and refuse to answer. But he had promised himself that he would tell Blair everything because what he had decided had not only changed his future, but Blair's as well. "You."
Shocked, flabbergasted, floored, stunned. Blair knew all these words were describing what he was experiencing and he wondered why. Every bad guy gunning for Jim knew his partner could be used as a hostage against the detective. He himself knew he was a weakness in the Sentinel's armor. But to hear it said aloud like that, so starkly stated, so apparently accepted by Jim... "How? How did he use me against you, Jim?"
Jim told him about the meadow, the women, the children, the promise of the future. "You, me, grandchildren," Blair repeated softly as Jim's words finished painting the picture Ahriman had shown him. It was indeed a worthy temptation. "But you didn't have to apologize, Jim. It was a lovely dream, but this is our reality-- here, taking on the enemy whoever or whatever form it takes."
"You're sure of that, Blair?"
"Yeah, man. I'm sure."
"Come on, then." He motioned for Blair to follow him onto the terrace. They stood at the wall and looked over the city. He could feel fine tremors radiating from his partner, the fear of heights making itself known. He draped an arm across the shoulders and the trembling dissipated. If only he could dispel Blair's other fears so easily. Maybe one day he could. "The sun is setting, Chief. Soon, Cascade will settle into night and those things that shun the day, will creep out and announce their presence. This will happen as long as the world exists."
"But as long as you exist, those of the night will not overcome those of the light. There will be balance because of you, Jim," Blair declared, comfortable with the coming shadows. "I think that's what the scale on your arm is telling us, man. With you, there will be balance."
"And my balance is you, Chief. Don't ever forget that. No matter what decisions I have made or will have to make... nor the ones I'm sure you will face during this war as well."
As the sun dimmed, Blair saw a falling star streak across the sky and knew it carried with it a promise. Of what, he hadn't a clue. But it didn't matter. He already had the promise he wanted. It was standing beside him, come what may. "If I'm your balance, Jim, then consider yourself stable. I won't let you fall, man. Believe that."
"I already do."
*****
Tony Bozeman stood on the balcony of his hotel room and saw a shooting star. "Soon," he whispered to himself. "Soon."
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