Born of Magic's Fire by Natasha Duncan-Drake ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 1 Quite frankly, the way Philip looked when he walked into the library made even Nick's eyes open in shock. Now Alex would have noticed if anyone so much as broke a nail, but the ex-SEAL had a tendency not to heed such things. The fact that his priest friend was verging on the living dead, did, however, make it through the thick skin. Philip's face was pale, he had bags under his eyes, and he didn't seem to have any energy. Nick began to think that maybe their latest case was getting on top of the young man. "Maybe you should just turn around and go back to bed," the ex-SEAL said as his friend sat down. "I know we're supposed to have a meeting, but you look awful." He was caught by a pair of eyes that for just a second seemed to stare right into his soul. "No, I'm fine," the other man said and broke the spell, "it's just a headache that kept me up most of the night." Nick was thinking that even sleepless nights didn't make people look the way Philip did this morning, but he said nothing. They had research to do and it could have been just the priest's overactive need to help everybody, that caused his appearance. There was a small girl at the centre of their current case, and Philip had developed a rapport with her. The fact that she'd tried to kill both her parents and a doctor, distressed him immensely, especially as it seemed to be a case of possession. It was Derek's very long reach which had kept the police out of the case so far, but if they didn't find the answer soon, someone was going to get hurt and then there would be no choice. The state was not known for it's belief in possession, so the child would end up in a mental hospital. ===================================================================== The house felt very cold when Nick and Philip arrived with a new idea to try. They'd gained all the permissions required to take Caroline, the centre of the mystery, back to Angel Island, and it was almost as if the building knew. You didn't have to be psychic to realise that something was going on in this ordinary suburban residence. "I'm really beginning to hate this place," Nick said as the white faced mother left them to climb the stairs alone. "You and me both," his companion returned, and his voice sounded slightly strange. His colour seemed to have improved as the pair of them had decided on yet another course of action that morning, but as Nick turned to his friend, he was shocked to see him as pale as a ghost. The ex-SEAL had to fight down the urge to reach out and grab him, as his skin took on a ghastly grey tone. "Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "I'll be fine," Philip returned, but he was obviously far from it. The throbbing headache which had kept him from sleep all night was back, and it had become a pounding inside his skull that made it almost impossible to think. He was beginning to believe that maybe he would have to give this case up to someone else, and let Nick continue up alone. One minute he had been fine, and the next he could barely put one foot in front of the other, it was ridiculous. The pain was clogging his ability to think, and if he wasn't careful he felt like he was going to pass out. They had stopped halfway up the stairs and he looked at Nick sideways. He was no good to anyone like this, and denying it really wasn't doing anything useful. His knuckles were white on the banister, and he was at the point of admitting defeat. Then suddenly, the cacophony in his ears rose to deafening proportions, the pain increased so much it made him wince and an image flashed through his head. He'd never felt anything like it, but he didn't even hesitate to act. "Caroline," was all he said, and much to Nick's surprise the young priest went charging up the stairs. With his companion only a few feet behind they both burst into the bedroom, and found out why the house was so eerie. The room was in silent turmoil. Furniture floated inches off the floor, books opened and closed, toys moved, a wind whipped at everything, and all without so much as a sound. At the centre of it all sat Caroline, on her bed, holding a large brown bear. Yet what looked out of the child's eyes was in no way human. "Too late," it said with her voice, "I am here and she is gone. Sweet Caroline is no more, and I can do what I like." Now the scene horrified Nick, but his reaction was nothing to Philip's. To look on his face was to see complete and total fury, there was no room for fear. There had been other cases, other children in danger, but Nick had never seen his companion like this. It was almost as if he was a different person, and the ex-SEAL never had a chance to stop Philip's next action. Philip was a priest, he prayed for people's souls and went up against evil with his faith, but not this time. Without even so much as a word to the Almighty he charged straight in. He reached for the child and as his hand connected all hell broke loose. The silence became a maelstrom, and the demon let out a fighting scream. "Leave her," the command literally shook the room. Nick was having a hard time believing what he was seeing. He was pushed firmly against the wall and all he could do was watch as his friend wrestled with pure evil. When Philip had suddenly decided to swap roles, the ex-SEAL couldn't exactly say, but somehow it seemed to be working. "Your puny faith can't hurt me, priest," were the words that came out of the girl's mouth, "you're God cannot touch me." "It's not my faith you have to worry about," those had to be the strangest words out of the young man's mouth, but they happened to be true. On the stairs something very profound had happened to Philip: he had been invaded. The headache was his defence against something that had been trying to get into his head for the past two days, and by showing him the truth it had finally succeeded. A power he had no way of understanding was using him, and this demon was no match for it. The combatants stared into each other's eyes, and suddenly Philip had Caroline by both shoulders. It was like watching someone peeling a mould away from a cast as the young priest pulled the girl away from the entity which inhabited her. The child moved, but there remained a perfect replica in transparent red. The copy screamed, long and hard. There was no time to stop and Philip scooped the girl into his arms and turned to his companion. The ex-SEAL found her thrust upon him as he stared into a gaze he barely recognised. "Get her out of here," the priest virtually commanded, "before it breaks free." Since he was virtually bodily thrust through the door, Nick had little choice. Caroline's parents were on the landing, and the Legacy member all but forced them down the stairs. He had every intention of returning once they were at a safe distance, but the front door slammed with a very final sound behind him. Nick had no way to explain what he had just seen, or how his companion had done what he did, but as he turned he knew the outcome. As they all watched, the house burst into flames. The whole bedroom was ablaze and the thing on the divan oozed to it's feet. Priest faced demon, and both knew their time was over. The power inside Philip kept the entity from fleeing the house, and he realised that he had to be here to the end. He was staring his death in the face, and with a victorious smile, he walked towards it. ===================================================================== The flames burned until there was nothing left, not even the fire department tried to explain it. It was as if the site was turned to ashes that blew away in the wind, all that was left was a hole in the ground, blackened around the edges. Not once had the flames touched anything beyond the walls of the house, and all that Nick could do was watch it. Derek was alerted by a phone call from the parents, not from his operative, and the head of the Legacy house found his young friend just standing in what was now darkness. He hadn't moved, and the only person who had tried to make him was nursing a black eye. The ex-SEAL just couldn't accept what had happened, and it was as if he was waiting for his companion to miraculously walk out of the ashes. "It's time to go home, Nick," Derek said quietly as he walked up beside the younger man. "There's nothing you can do here." "It wasn't like him," his companion replied slowly, "he was almost like another person. I'm the one who plays at being a hero, not him. Why did he have to go and do it?" There was pain in his voice, he didn't want to believe the truth. "Why did he have to go and get himself killed?" Nick's tone was accusing, but as he finally looked at Derek there were tears in his eyes. It was difficult to loose a friend, and the grief was beginning to brim over in the young man. He had looked into his companion's eyes and seen a power, that he was dead was inconceivable. Just now Derek could not let himself show that he had similar feelings as Nick, he had to be strong. They would all grieve, later. ===================================================================== "I had to sedate him eventually," Rachel said as she walked into the study to find Alex and Derek waiting for her, "he just kept saying that he should have been the one to die. It's more than just grief, he must have seen something." The other two looked at her and they drew strength from each other. "He told me that Philip was not himself when he saved the child," Derek told them both. "That he didn't seem normal all day. I think he blames himself for letting Philip go today." Analysis may have helped them forget the centre of the matter, but Alex couldn't help but bring it straight home. She had been playing the calm efficient researcher ever since Derek brought Nick home, and she couldn't do it any more. "I can't believe Philip's gone," was what she said and the tears began to roll down her cheeks. Rachel went to her immediately, it was going to take a long time to get over this one. Philip was a researcher, their spiritual advisor who left the physical exploits to his better equipped colleges. That he had sacrificed himself in such a way was unthinkable. The psychiatrist let her fellow Legacy member cry herself out, as Derek remained calm and aloof. His anger and pain showed in his eyes, but he would not crumble and let the house fall around him. He was the corner stone and strong he would remain. It was as Alex was finally drying her eyes that Kat walked around the corner. Rachel and her daughter were staying at the house tonight, and the girl was in her pyjamas. She was the only one who had not been told what had happened, but as usual, she knew that something was going on. She walked up to Alex and put a gentle hand on her arm, and smiled sweetly. "Why are you crying?" she asked quietly. Her mother stepped in here. "Kat, darling," she began slowly, "something happened today, something terrible, and everyone's very upset. You know Nick and Philip were trying to help a little girl named Caroline?" Her daughter nodded solemnly. "Well something went wrong," Rachel was trying to find the words to explain another death to her child, "um, they saved the little girl, but the house burnt down. Philip couldn't get out ... he's," But Kat didn't wait for the next line, much to her mother's surprise she actually turned back to Alex and patted her on the hand. "You don't have to be sad," she said with an angelic little smile, "Philip's gone where he's supposed to go. He might even come back." The adults in the room, just didn't know what to say. It seemed like a childish explanation of the way Kat saw the world, after all meeting dead people wasn't exactly new to her. A stunned silence seemed to hang over the room, but the girl either didn't notice it, or didn't care. She kissed Alex on the cheek, then her mother, and finally she went to Derek. It was her goodnight ritual and as soon as she'd finished it she waved at them all and left the room. Nobody seemed to feel like crying anymore. ===================================================================== It was warm, pleasantly so, and the place felt almost serene. Those were the first thoughts that went through Philip's mind as it slowly started working again. He was afraid of something, but he couldn't remember what, yet it kept him from trying to find out more about his surrounding. "You're quite safe, Keeper," a voice said very close to him, "you can open your eyes now." The tones were soft and gentle, but as he realised he wasn't alone, a terror he could not explain welled up within him. Irrationally his mind decided that if he could not see it, it could not hurt him. "Please open you eyes, Keeper," the calm voice continued, "there is nothing to be afraid of. You have passed through the fire, you have come home. I'm here to help you, but time grows short." A hand touched his shoulder, a soft, slender hand. The gentle pressure on his arm, and the sweet tone finally had an effect. He was still afraid, but logic said that what he heard and felt could not come from that which had harmed him. He blinked into the soft light, and slowly a beautiful face resolved itself, framed by a mass of long black hair. She smiled at him sweetly and took hold of his hand. He found himself sitting with his back against what felt like a stone wall, but it was warm. The woman in front of him slowly urged him to his feet, and he found that she was no more than five feet tall. She was petite to go with it, and he found himself admiring her curves. Somewhere in his mind there was something that told him he should feel guilty about this, especially as both he and she appeared to be naked, but most of his thoughts ignored this. "Welcome, Keeper," the beautiful creature said cheerfully, "I am Jasmine, will you give me your name?" "Philip," the young man replied quietly. It was like some form of ritual and as it concluded he felt almost calm. Looking around this place, his fears were dissolving into insignificance. "I've been waiting for the next Keeper for over two hundred years," his companion continued lightly, "and I have something for you." Philip had no idea what was going on, but somehow it seemed right, so he just let it continue. Jasmine led him towards the centre of the room, towards a small table. On it sat an intricate pedestal, nestled on the top of which was a palm sized crystal. As they approached, it began to give off a white light. "This is the reason you are here," the petite woman said calmly. "Your life became such that the potential within you was harnessed, and the crystal recognised it's next Keeper. You were born with the innate ability to know it's power, your passion touched it's hiding place, and it found you to be suitable. You've felt it's strength when it fought the demon. It tested you and your sacrifice made it possible for you to come here." "What is it?" Philip's voice was low, almost reverent as he beheld the light. His companion smiled with a far away look in her eyes, and almost stroked the edge of the pedestal. "It is a key," she explained slowly, "a key which will open part of you that you did not know existed. It is a gift and a grave responsibility, but it is yours." The young man stood in silence, just looking at the glow. It was so beautiful and it sang to him with a song he could not begin to comprehend. He had felt pure evil and now he felt pure bliss. "What if I don't accept it?" he heard himself ask, even as he was captivated. "Then your mortal body will die," Jasmine told him honestly, "only the crystal's power can heal the injuries you sustained in the fire. Your soul will continue it's journey, and I will wait for the next to be chosen. The wheel will turn, the universe will continue." She spoke matter-of-factly and made no attempt to cajole him into taking the stone. This woman wanted him to accept the gift, she saw in him a life that should not yet pass on, but it was not her place to prevent him from following his own path. A few more seconds passed, and then with almost reckless speed, Philip's hand shot out and took hold of the stone. The fire that exploded in every nerve was an agony, but not one such as he had felt as the house blazed around him. This was pain, but also the most exquisite pleasure. It felt like his eyes were burning in his skull. He saw things he had never dreamed, and knew suddenly that he was not in his body. Almost instantly the pain he felt was not elemental, but very physical. His skin hurt and his bones ached. Slowly it began to ebb away, and gradually other sensations replaced it in his experience. Philip Callahan found himself laying in the long grass of a hillside, on a most beautiful spring day. The sun was hot, and the long blades protected him from the wind, but it was still a little cold to be sitting in a field naked. Now this bothered him, but not as much as when he heard a cheerful laugh from beside him. He turned to find Jasmine smiling at him, and he couldn't help but watch as she stood up and stretched. "It is wonderful here," she said lightly, "the house is this way. I have much to teach you, Philip, and March is a little chilly for our current state of undress." There wasn't any arguing with that. End of Part 1 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 2 Time passed and wounds began to heal as the memories dulled. It took weeks, but Nick seemed to eventually accept that Philip's death wasn't his fault. The young priest's name was added to a plaque of deceased Legacy members, there was a beautiful memorial service for him, and yet it seemed unreal somehow with nothing to bury. They should have found somebody to take his place in the house, his expertise was missed, but it was almost unthinkable to the other members. As weeks turned into months, Kat stopped trying to explain to people that Philip was only somewhere else. It seemed to distress her companions whenever his name was mentioned, so she decided to leave time to itself. The only time she had tried to tell her mother that he wasn't dead, the look that had entered Rachel's eyes was enough to put her off. It had been somewhere between sadness and disappointment, as if she had hoped better of her child. Kat knew that her mother could not understand all the things she did, but when a similar expression had appeared in Derek's eyes, the girl had decided not to try and tell anyone else. There was one good thing to come out of all the mess as far as Kat was concerned, however. In their grief, Rachel and Derek finally seemed to managed to climb over their respective hurdles and actually admit that they were attracted to each other. Why they'd never managed this before was a mystery to the young girl: she'd seen their mutual affection from almost the first moment she'd been in the house. The two, slightly older members of the Legacy house began to spend significant amounts of time in each others company, much to the delight of their companions. When Rachel sat her daughter down and started the "I loved your father..." speech, Kat knew it was serious. She had listened with patience as her mother tried to explain what the girl had already deduced, and then she'd solemnly given her approval. ===================================================================== Cases came and they went. The unit that was the Legacy house seemed almost strengthened by their loss. They'd lost people before, but this death came at a time that caused more than a little change in the people involved. An outsider would have seen a close knit group, but they would not have realised just what bound them together. They had always been a kind of family to each other, but now they really were kin. An uneventful spring turned into a glorious summer, and then lightening struck a second time. "God, I know getting myself into these situations is reckless and stupid, but if you just let me survive this one, I'll *really* try not to do it again," Nick's words were more for himself than any deity, he was in *big* trouble. It was huge, it was horrible, and Nick had never seen anything quite like it. He'd dealt with ghosts and demons, spirits and poltergeists, but this was in no way similar to any of them. This thing was very real, very ugly, had very big, extremely dangerous looking claws, and it was coming straight for him. Not so long ago, the slavering beast had been a normal, loveable spaniel, out for a walk with it's master who was a good half a mile away. That was before reality had just changed so that the spot where Nick was standing could be protected from intrusion. The forces at work here, weren't exactly evil, they'd just been woken up after a long time and started rearranging reality to suit themselves. The effect was very localised, and it's beginnings could be traced back to the removal of a talisman by a building team. That didn't, however, stop Nick from being in very deep trouble. Running was not an option, the car was just too far away, reason wasn't a good idea either, since the creature didn't seem to have any, and that didn't leave many avenues. Derek was trying to locate and replace the item which had been removed, but the man who had found it was very difficult to track down. The research said that the talisman was made of gold and gems, that made it very valuable to whoever stole it. Even if the head of the Legacy house could retrieve it, that wasn't going to help Nick just now. The only weapon the young man had been able to lay his hands on, was a piece of wood that had fallen from a near by tree. It looked rather puny compared to the creature coming towards him, but there wasn't anything else to hand. He'd only been trying to find the spot where the talisman had to be replaced, his gun was in the car. So far reality had just been bent in harmless ways: a crane had become a tree, a hut a stone shrine, this creature was in a different league. The spaniel had mutated into something that was halfway between the wolf man and a dinosaur. It's teeth were long and pointed, very close to the T-rex from Jurassic Park. Any horror movie actor would have been proud to don the claws, and the beast stalked him on two legs. The dog's big brown eyes had become red, reptilian slits, and there was no way to escape them. When the thing finally charged, there was little Nick could do. The first time he hit it the wooden shaft splintered and broke into a thousand pieces. The shards did more damage to his unprotected hands than the blow did to the creature. None of his martial arts training or SEAL expertise seemed to do him any good, it was just too big. He landed several heavy blows, but the thick brown hide just absorbed anything he could throw at it. It slashed at him and the claws raked straight through his clothing and into the flesh on his ribs. It hurt like hell and the ex-SEAL tried desperately to get away. He was given a few seconds respite as he ran for the cover of the small stone building to his left. Hope sprang in his mind as he heard the distant sound of an engine, and he prayed that help was coming. Hiding was no good, the beast had a better sense of smell that any human could hope to evade, so the young man had to keep moving. As he'd dashed inside the small structure he'd lost sight of his enemy, and all he could do was hope it was even more stupid than it looked. The back entrance of the `shrine' was in front of him and he dared not wait too long in anyone place. With the distraction of the new arrival it was possible he might be able to reach the car and at least buy himself some time. As he ran out the other side, however, he was far from lucky. The creature had not been as dumb as it seemed and with wolf-like cunning it had circled him. When he left the building, he crashed straight into it. "Put the talisman back where you found it," Nick heard Derek's voice somewhere behind him, but he looked into the face of the monster. A huge, taloned hand connected around his chest and he felt an icy pain as claws sliced effortlessly into his flesh. Muscle and sinew were no object and there was no protection. The thing threw it's victim through the air and into the nearest tree. Nick collided with the hard barrier and there was the sickening sound of bones crumbling under the strain. He never had a chance to see a man run to a small hole in the ground and drop a wrapped package into it. He also missed the creature fading slowly back into the dog from which it had come. There was nothing in Nick's world, nothing but blackness. ===================================================================== The wind was talking about many things: a storm in England, a clear day in the Canadian Rockies, and rain in Kenya. It was a beautiful, if somewhat muddled song, and Philip lay on his back, in the grass listening. He was completely content, normal cares just did not have any meaning in his mind. It had been relatively the same since he had first woken up on the hillside. He spent his days learning and enjoying himself in Jasmine's company, and nothing beyond that mattered. He had memory of who he was, who his friends were, but in this environment those thoughts had little meaning. It was as if the real world was behind a wall of fog and connective emotions couldn't get through it. It was all still there, but it had no relationship to Philip. He was actually on a farm in Ireland, miles from anywhere, and totally at peace. On a sunny day in August, a little under seven months after he had arrived, the calm shattered. Slavering jaws, lethal talons and a dear friend's pain lanced into his mind. The bubble of protection that he had needed to heal evaporated around him, and reality came flooding back. His life, his friends, the people he loved, all the meaning came back. Surprisingly, he felt no guilt for the way he had been living over the past months. His disconnection, his recently kindled love for Jasmine, he felt no regret for any of it. He had changed over the last few months and although his old life came back, his new one slotted in tightly. There was no time for guilt, no time to repent that he could no longer be what he had been. He had to go home, and quickly. He stood up and took one last look around the green landscape. He had been happy here, but it was time to return to the real world. With haste in his step he walked back towards the house to find Jasmine, and arrange the journey to San Francisco. ===================================================================== It seemed barely possible, so much tragedy had befallen one Legacy house in under a year. Philip was dead and now Nick was hanging on by no more than a thread. Whenever Derek or the others enquired about their friend's condition, that sad, sort of resigned look appeared on people's faces. They never said it outright, but Nick's injuries were so serious no-one thought he was ever going to wake up. The creature's claws had damaged several vital organs, the impact with the tree had cause head and spinal injuries, and he was slowly slipping away. There was one of the Legacy with him every moment they were allowed to be there, but in seventy two hours he had shown no signs of knowing they were there. He lay deathly still in the cold white room, swathed in bandages, with tubes feeding him food and oxygen. A heart monitor showed a slow, weak rhythm, but his breathing was barely perceptible. Even the flowers and cards couldn't chase away the atmosphere of gloom. It was moving on for ten p.m. and Alex had been virtually thrown out of Nick's room and told to go home. She looked up briefly as she walked out into the night, feeling something in the air, but unsure of what it was. It held her attention only a moment, and then she found her car keys and slowly made her way to her transport. Philip watched from the shadows, unwilling to show himself yet, but feeling a kinship with her sorrow. "He'll be fine, Alex, I promise," he whispered quietly, and waited until she had gone. Nobody challenged him as he took the elevator to the correct floor, and strolled past the nurses station. One look in his almost hypnotic eyes put most minds at rest, and a peaceful smile calmed any others. Even the nurse who had just checked Nick's condition, greeted him as he entered the room, and then left without a comment. "Hi, Nick," the young man said warmly, as if talking to someone who could actually hear him, "you're not looking too well, my friend." He wandered up beside the bed and just looked at his companion's pale features for a moment. "Not contemplating dying, were we?" his Irish accent was strong in his light tone. "Now we can't have that." He reached out his hand and placed if on Nick's chest. The small smile that had been playing at his lips dissolved immediately. "Let go of the pain, Nick," Philip said slowly, now very serious, "you don't need it anymore." The young man's mind delved into his friend's body, finding every hurt, every injury, and then with a deep breath he began to take them away. The heart rate on the monitor sped up a little, but at first that was the only outward sign that anything was happening. Philip's eyes closed slowly as his brow knitted in concentration. Over time the truth of the situation became apparent as trickles of blood began to show through Philip's shirt. He was taking the injuries into himself, and there he could heal them. The young man was shaking by the time he finally opened his eyes once more, and his features were pale and weary. Where he looked worse, however, it was impossible not to notice that Nick appeared much improved. "Sleep deeply, my friend," Philip said slowly, "you're going have to field a lot of questions tomorrow." He removed his hand slowly and tried to turn, but his legs didn't seem to be working properly. Even miracles took time, and the healing was exacting a price on Philip's body. The young man managed to pull his coat around him to conceal the slowly spreading blood stains, and stumbled as far as the door, but he slowly slid down the frame. The laws of nature were working against him, and the Mother would not be beaten this time. With a small, resigned sigh, he let himself slip into healing sleep: the only thing he could do. ===================================================================== They found him on the two o'clock rounds. By five he was sleeping in another room, having been totally oblivious through a thorough examination, and the phone was ringing on Angel Island. "Derek Rayne," sleep was not an option for the head of the house just at the moment and he answered the call immediately. "Dr Rayne," the voice said on the other end, "My name is Dr Collwood, I'm ringing about your colleague, Nicholas Boyle." Derek's chest seemed suddenly tight and he had to take a very deep breath. "Go on," he instructed with absolutely no emotion in his voice. "Something quite remarkable has happened," the physician on the line said with a strange excitement in his voice. "Mr Boyle appears to have made a full recovery. In fact, when we tried to examine him, he woke up and, dare I say, demanded to know what we were doing." He was about to suggest that maybe Derek should come to the hospital, when the question was revealed to be pointless. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," was all the head of the Legacy house said, and then the phone went dead. Speed limits were not on the psychic's mind as he drove from the castle, and he made it to the institution in a little over seventeen minutes. Even as he walked up the hallway, he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Look, all I want are my clothes and I'll get out of your hair," it was Nick's voice and he sounded impatient. "Mr Boyle," the physician from the phone was obviously in the room, "you appear to have made an excellent recovery, but may I remind you that yesterday you were dying. We'd just like to make sure you remain in good health." "I'm fine," the ex-SEAL insisted firmly, "but I don't like hospitals." Technically he didn't mind hospitals, it was just being a patient that bothered him, but who was to know? It was at this point that Derek walked through the door, and Nick's features lit up. The younger man was sitting on the bed with a sheet wrapped around his waist, and discarded bandages in a pile next to him. Any and all equipment which had been attached to him was pushed to one side, and he was cornered by the consultant, his junior and two nurses. "Thank god, you're here," Nick said as soon as he saw his colleague, "please could you tell them to let me out of here." The psychic just stood there looking vaguely stunned for a moment. When the doctor had mentioned a miraculous recovery, Derek had expected Nick to be awake, but weak and ill. Quite frankly he was looking totally healthy. Yes there were the slightly pale patches under his eyes, and the deep rifts in his torso looked a little painful, but they were nearly just scars. "Incredible," was the first word that passed the psychic's lips. "Well?" Nick seemed a little impatient as support appeared to be lacking. That snapped Derek out of his reverie. "I suggest a compromise," the doctor of Philosophy said with an uncontainable smile. "Nick let these good people examine you, and as long as they don't find anything life threatening, I'll drive you home." There was a moments silence as the two sides of the argument reviewed their options. "I'm willing if they are," the ex-SEAL finally agreed. The consultant breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his own acceptance. "Dr Walsh will examine you," he said calmly, "and for now, I'd like to borrow Dr Rayne." Derek was kind of surprised, but he had no objections, and the two men walked into the corridor. The senior physician seemed somewhat excited about something and he began to talk. "There's more to this than I had a chance to tell you over the phone," he said animatedly. "We found a man in Mr Boyle's room just before we realised the change in his condition. The man was unconscious, and when we examined him we found traces of the exact same injuries on his body as Mr Boyle had, but they were healing at an incredible rate." The doctor was slowly leading Derek down the hall. The physician knew that the Luna foundation was not quite what it appeared to be on the surface, he had seen enough cases pass into their hands. He knew that this would interest the man beside him almost as much as his colleagues recovery. He had several more bits of information to pass on before they actually reached their destination. "That was not the only thing remarkable about the young man," the doctor continued. "There was something I noticed on close examination. This patient has the most unusual eyes, Dr Rayne, quite unlike any I have seen before. The irises were almost white, but not mat white, they gave the illusion of being almost like glass before a white background. They were ringed in so deep a blue that it was almost black, and small flecks of the same colour gave the eyes an almost faceted quality." With that he opened the door they had just reached and ushered in his companion. Derek's reaction would have been greater except that the bed was empty and the window open. All that was left to show there had been an occupant was the rucked up sheet. The fact that they were three stories up and the only route down was a tree did not escape the attention of the head of the Legacy house. "I don't believe this," was all the doctor could say, "he's gone." "So it would appear," was Derek's only comment. He walked over towards the bed as the physician turned to call anyone he could think of to explain the disappearance. Just at that moment, Derek was far from interested in what the other man was doing, because as he placed his hands on the crumpled sheets he gained a very clear impression. His mind literally screamed Legacy at him: this man had some connection with the organisation, the Precept was left with no doubts. End of Part 2 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 3 "So you think this guy saved me and then ran off?" Nick said as his friend drove them both home at a much more sedate pace than his previous journey. "But if he was from another Legacy house, why would he leave?" "I didn't say he was from another house," the older man said as he watched the road, "I just said he was connected to the Legacy. I have no idea why he ran, and what is more disturbing is the fact that I know of no reports that mention those apparent abilities." He had a detailed description of the man in question, in a note book, but the general characteristics could have fitted several people. The significant parts on the other hand, fitted no one Derek had ever met. This kind of ability would have been on file, and it was not something that would have been ignored. Unless the Legacy had gained some new members very recently, this man should have been easy to find. The disappearance also begged the question, why would a man who has so obviously saved a life, just leave? Sympathetic healing was a very rare gift, no house had a member possessing those skills and the files only contained a few reported cases in the entire world. It was a puzzle, but a welcome one since it seemed to have brought Nick back to the group. ===================================================================== Why he had fled was not something Philip could explain to himself just at the moment, let alone anyone else. Maybe he just hadn't been prepared, but as soon as he'd sensed Derek's presence he'd had to escape. Quite frankly he was afraid to see his friends again, so much had changed, and he hadn't had time to completely accept it himself, sharing it with others was a frightening thought. Jasmine had been waiting for him outside, and with her help and the tree he had made it to the ground safely. Sitting in the shadows with his companion the young man now felt a little stupid. "No need to look like that," Jas said with half a smile, "you do have a right to be nervous." "Yes, but climbing out a third floor window rates up there with a little more than nervous," was the annoyed reply. The young looking woman just grinned and pecked him on the cheek. "Let's get you to the hotel and into a nice comfy bed," she said lightly, "you'll feel much better in the morning." If the truth be told, Philip did rather feel like he'd been through a mincer. His ribs ached, his body was sore just about everywhere, and he was dog tired. Jasmine's suggestion did not go unheeded. ===================================================================== The next morning was a fabulous day and the castle looked beautiful from the drive. His heart was beating like there was no tomorrow, and he wasn't quite sure what to do, but at least Philip had made it that far. He was wearing jeans, a blue shirt, a suede jacket and on his nose was a pair of tinted shades. The most unusual thing about him had there been any casual observers, was the fact that he had a black cat sitting on his shoulder. "You wouldn't reconsider and accompany me in human form, would you, Jas?" the young man asked slowly. The cat just looked at him with her big yellow eyes: they'd discussed this before. "Okay," he said under her gaze, "I'm going." It was a Saturday and as he walked into the gardens he found the one person who he knew he would have no trouble with. Kat looked up from where she was playing and her face broke into a wide smile. "Philip, you're back!" she cried with glee and literally charged across the lawn to meet him. He bent down and swept her into a hug. Jasmine obliged by descending to the ground. The man and child just squeezed each other for a while and then Kat pulled back. "So how have you been?" the young man asked under the delightful scrutiny. "Fine," the girl replied quietly, "but I had to stop telling them you weren't dead because Mom was upset." Philip smiled at that, he had had no doubts that Kat would see the truth. "Yes, well sometimes us adults can't see what's in front of our faces," he responded amiably. "No kidding," Kat responded with a grin. Then she turned serious. "Where have you been, Philip?" she enquired earnestly. "I was in a strange place for a while," the young man told her truthfully, "but mostly I was in Ireland. This is Jasmine, she's been looking after me." He indicated the black feline and the girl beamed at her. "Pleased to meet you," she said without the hang-ups an adult would have talking to an animal, "I'm Kat." Jas rubbed her back along the girl's leg and the pact was made: they were friends. "So who's in?" Philip enquired. "Mom and Derek went to the hospital earlier," Kat explained, "to find out some things, but Alex is in the computer room and Nick is upstairs asleep. Alex said he tried to make it seem he was all better last night, but he's been sleeping all morning." "Best thing for him," her companion returned with a smile. The young girl's face became serious again for a moment or two. "How did you do it?" she asked in a direct fashion. "Do what?" was the immediate answer. "Heal Nick?" Kat obviously knew exactly what was going on. "Oh," Philip said slowly, "I'm not one hundred percent sure. I can just do some weird things now. It's like asking how do you see spirits." The girl nodded sagely, she understood. Her curiosity satisfied she took her companion's hand and smiled. "Let's go find Alex," she said with mischief in her voice. Jasmine performed a feat of acrobatics and leapt onto Philip's shoulder once more. She curled herself around his neck securely and settled in for the ride. The young Legacy member let himself be led, and Kat took him into the house. A warm feeling of familiarity fell like a blanket around him as soon as he stepped over the threshold. "Home," he said without realising he spoke aloud. "Of course," was his companion's reply. They walked up to the hologram wall together, but just in front of it, Philip stopped. Alex had been his closest friend and the thought of seeing her again brought back all the trepidation. The hand in his squeezed and he looked down to see an understanding smile on Kat's face. She saw a lot more than a child her age should understand, and her presence was a comfort. Since Alex was inside, when the intruder stepped over the threshold all that happened was the computer beeped. Philip's retinal scan was still on file, but he was listed as deceased. At the warning, the Legacy member in residence turned in her chair, then she froze. The psychic forgot to breathe, her heart leapt into her throat, and all coherent thought fled. She could not be seeing the person in front of her, but Kat's smiling face said otherwise. As for the centre of her attention, he wasn't doing so well either, and he just stood there. "You could talk to each other you know," the only active member of the group said lightly, "you must have heaps to say." Neither of the other two looked particularly ready to break the silence. "Well I can't do it for you," Kat told them cheerfully, "I'm going to see if Nick is awake." Her disappearing back finally galvanised Philip into action. "Kat, wait ...," was what he tried, but the girl paid no heed. That left he and Alex alone: the silence was beginning to become awkward. "Philip, is that really you?" it was the only thing that would coalesce in the woman's mind. "Last time I checked," the young man returned with an attempt at lightness. He'd never been very good at that sort of thing, and it fell flat. "You're alive," this conversation was predictable. The female member of the Legacy house stood up very slowly. She still couldn't believe what she was seeing, there were some strange vibes coming from her companion's direction. What he did next could alienate her further, but the truth was better from the outset. With one hand he reached up and took off his glasses. The gasp and the step back caused him pain, but they were to be expected. His eyes had changed the moment he had touched the crystal, and he could not go back. At a quick glance they could be passed off as pale blue, but under scrutiny their true colour was obvious. Nearly white eyes, rimmed with deep blue and criss-crossed by tiny dark lines, was not something you saw every day. "What happened to you?" Alex had seen many seemingly good things go bad in her time with the Legacy. She was not taking anything for granted. "I was given something," the young man returned, "something that was waiting for me." The fact that she wouldn't come near him was tearing him apart. He could bear the look on her face, but the fact that she seemed afraid was almost too much. "Look," he said slowly, "I could try and explain, but it would take forever. Just touch me Alex, then you'll know the truth." He had no intention of hiding anything and his companion's Sight would show her what she needed to understand. It would be vague, but at a fundamental level which would allow her to at least believe who he was. He reached out his hand and just waited. There was obvious trepidation on Alex's face as she could not reconcile her thoughts with what she saw. Finally, however, with a slight frown, and a little bit of faith, she reached out. As their fingers touched, images and emotion began to poor into her mind. Philip was just a little over enthusiastic in his relief, and he was doing a very good job of projecting things at her. It was all a bit much for the young psychic who was not prepared for any such thing, and in self-preservation, her senses just shut off. "Alex," Philip almost yelped as his friend crumpled into a heap. Jasmine leapt off his shoulder onto the table as the young man moved instantly to help. The young woman opened her eyes slowly and found some very worried, upside-down features looking down at her. A few seconds past before reality made itself plain, and then she realised she was lying on the floor with her head on Philip's knee. "Alex," he asked hesitantly, "are you okay?" She'd been out for a good five minutes and he had been getting very worried. A smile appeared on her face at the tone in his voice. "Yes," she said slowly, and with his help sat up, "I'm fine. That was quite an experience." "Sorry," he said very apologetically. The situation slowly resolved itself in the woman's mind and what was actually happening made it through. Suddenly she was very animated and she threw her arms around her friend. "My god, Philip, it really is you," she said a bit too loudly next to his ear. This time he was very careful to make sure all his mental barriers were in place. The hug was purely on a physical level. "What happened to you, where have you been, why didn't you contact us?" all the questions came out in one mad rush as Alex pulled back. Her companion really didn't know what to say. "It's complicated," he managed eventually. With perfect timing the black cat took her cue, and Jasmine leapt off the counter and wandered over. An unsure look came over Alex's face as the creature brushed against her. She did not resist as Philip helped her to her feet, but she didn't take her eyes off the feline on the floor. "That's not a normal cat," she eventually said with doubt in her voice. "No, that's Jas," her companion supplied with half a smile, "she's ... she's my friend." The peculiar being blinked at them with her big yellow eyes. "You know, it would be a lot easier if you'd just introduce yourself," Philip said as she curled round his legs. Slowly, she wandered away from him and into a space in the room. Her outline glowed blue for a moment and then she appeared to dissolve into a light mist. The fluid leisurely flowed into a vaguely human shape and the woman began to form. Each feature moulded into place and a mannequin like shell appeared, which quickly became very real flesh. She smiled at both of them sweetly, and Alex couldn't help but laugh even through her amazement, as Philip turned a gentle pink and tried to keep the admiration out of his features. "Ah, Jas," he said quietly, "you forgot something." The woman looked down at herself and then grinned. "Oh, yes," she commented amiably, "polite company." Another small mist enveloped her and a light silky green dress appeared around her petite form. For all the good it did, she may have remained naked. This may have been a small woman, but she had legs that went all the way up, and curves in all the right places. Being able to change shape may have given her an advantage, but she certainly knew what she was doing. "Hello," she continued brightly, "it's nice to meet you." "Ah, hi," Alex returned, not quite sure what she was looking at. It didn't take a genius to notice that the way Philip looked at Jasmine was not at all innocent or priestly. It wasn't just his eyes that had changed. Several questions about the future jumped into Alex's mind, but so did lots of other things. The most prominent of which was the answer to the question Derek had had her chasing all morning. "You were the man in the hospital, weren't you?" she said slowly, and looked back at her friend. Philip just nodded. End of Part 3 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 4 "Why did you leave?" Alex put the question to her friend gently as she saw the confusion cross his face. The young man looked more than a little awkward, and the first thing he did was shrug. "I really don't know," he replied honestly, "I felt Derek coming and I panicked." The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, but those words out of ordinary, down to earth, Philip's mouth, just caught in Alex's mind. "You felt Derek," she repeated to herself as if examining the idea in her mind. Her male companion half smiled as he realised how it must have sounded. The way he saw things had altered so much, and these were the moments when it showed. "I've changed, Alex," he said quietly. "Plain old me has woken up and caught a glimpse of the bigger picture." His friend had to smile at the way he described it, she'd been thinking the same thing. "Big time," was all she said. The computer beeped behind her, and she suddenly remembered that she'd been carrying out a search. "I've been trying to track you down," she said as she turned back to the machine, "of course I've been looking in completely the wrong place." The researcher was about to save the information and shut off the screen when the article it had found caught her eye. She couldn't help but let her eyes track over it as her behind found it's way back into the chair. The document on file was an old manuscript, and to one side of the monitor a plain text version of the hand-written paper in the image was given. It was dated 1714. <> That was as far as Alex needed to read. The events recorded were almost an exact match, and she couldn't help but turn to her friend in amazement. "The last Keeper," Jasmine said as she caught a glance of what was on the screen, "many have had connections with the Legacy. Like draws like, and it is difficult to fight for mankind alone. When the Legacy began other powers noticed it, and fate has a funny way with these things. Aaron DeFey was a Scotsman with a French father, living in Aberdeen a little over two centuries ago. He was supposedly killed when his Legacy house came up against a ghost who brought death to all who saw him. He sacrificed himself to save one of his friends and then he became the Keeper. He died in 1764, a father of eight and the leader of his house. Before him was Jessica Paul, before her Peter Woods, back through the mists of time. Until this day and age it would have been impossible to find any link between the line, but if you trace them back you eventually reach the first Keeper of them all. The only common ancestor they all share." Now this was news even to Philip, and he was gazing at the young woman intently as she finished. She just smiled at him sweetly. "The topic just never came up before, love," were her light words. Alex was also giving her quite a hard stare. "You seem to know just about everything there is to know," the researcher said slowly, "were you there?" The peculiar creature turned her innocent eyes to the woman. "No," she replied honestly, "I am Philip's guide to the crystal, the others had their own. I am now as firmly tied to this world as any of you, and I will be `til the day the keeper passes." There was no attempt to conceal information, Jas' whole purpose was to teach, and that meant to anyone who would listen. At the moment that was the young researcher, and the beautiful shape changer would pass on anything Miss Moreau cared to hear. Now there had been no mention of stones or other worlds before: Alex was becoming a little confused. "What crystal?" she asked, sorting the information in her brain. "*The* crystal," Jas returned calmly, "it doesn't have a name. It's alive in a broad sense of the word. Not human, walking and talking alive, but it has a consciousness and a will. It is a store of tremendous power, which it lets into this world from time to time, via a Keeper." The Legacy member looked at Philip for a second, and then rapidly turned her attention back to her inquiries. "Can I see this crystal?" she asked both of them. Her question brought an awkward smile to Philip's face. This was going to be tough to explain, and the young man took a moment to think about it. "Technically," he started slowly, trying to find the right words, "it's not a physical entity on this plane." He wasn't used to classifying things like this, but he was pretty sure Alex would prefer it like this. "It exists somewhere else, a different dimension if you like, and it has a connection here because of me." He hoped it didn't sound arrogant. The discussion was becoming a little more complicated than Alex had expected, and she decided that the others would probably like to hear it as well. Repeating everything four or five times would no doubt become tedious for all concerned. "Okay," she said slowly, "time out. Unless you want to explain this several times, I think it might be a good idea if we wait until Derek and Rachel get back." Philip and his somewhat peculiar companion had no objections. "It's nearly lunch time," the young woman said amiably, "why don't I see if I can arrange some food, then I'll give the boss a call. With lunch time traffic they should be back in about thirty five minutes." Now that definitely met with approval, from all parties concerned. The living room was as large and as comfortable as Philip remembered it, and very shortly there were sandwiches, cake, tea and coffee, sitting on the table, enough to feed five thousand. Alex made the phone call, and carefully left out the details of exactly why Derek should return. It would probably have made the journey a lot quicker, but the researcher did not want her friend crashing the car. The three conspirators had just sat down when Kat came bouncing round the corner with a half dressed, half awake Nick in tow. "I had to push him into the bathroom," the child said cheerfully, "but he wasn't asleep, he was just lying there." All the activity amongst the adults had suddenly ceased. The first thing that caught Nick's eye was the pair of bare slender legs perched on the arm of a chair, which disappeared under a remarkably short skirt. It was when he reached her torso, and noticed the person Jas was sitting next to, that he woke up. Nick stared at Philip, the paler man stared back, and the realisations could be seen wandering across the ex-SEAL's face. Shock wrestled with relief on his features, clouded by just a touch of anger as questions leapt into his head. It was clear he didn't know how to react, and he took the quickest way out. "Let me guess," he said as he looked at his friend's peculiar gaze, "the guy from the hospital." He managed to keep most of the bitterness out of his voice as his mind jumped to several conclusions that he had no way of verifying. Nick always thought the worst, but at least this time he managed to control it. Philip saw the emotions pass across his face, and heard them in his voice, and he felt grateful to his friend that he managed to keep them inside. "Guilty," the seated man said calmly, and attempted a half smile. Alex saw the tension building, she didn't have to be psychic to see that neither of the two men were going to be able to keep up this front for much longer. She decided that diversionary tactics were necessary, and quickly formulated a course of action. "We were going to have some lunch," she broke the slowly thickening silence, "you could make it breakfast, Nick." Kat in her usual direct fashion, stepped over the social problem and dragged her companion further into the room. "Ham sandwiches," she cooed, and literally pushed Nick into a chair, "my favourite." The adults left her to it. "Hi Nick," Jasmine said and hopped off her perch, "I'm Jas." She grinned at him broadly, knowing that she could distract just about any man from a train of thought. It worked this time as well, and when she stuck out her hand, the ex-SEAL shook the offered limb while trying to keep his eyes off the shapely legs. "Ah, hello," he managed slowly. "I've heard a lot about you over the last couple of days," she said lightly, "I hope you're feeling better. You definitely have a better colour today." Her cards played, she turned and walked back to Philip's side. Nick was having trouble not staring. Even with all the tension in the room, the other young man had to smile, and he tried not to laugh. <> he thought at Jas as soon as her hand touched his shoulder, <> <> was the unrepentant reply. <> Their silent conversation earned them an intrigued look from Kat. She had no idea what they were up to, but she'd obviously sensed that something was going on. Jasmine grinned at her. "So you like to make spectacular returns from the dead, do you?" Nick finally found a relevant thought in his brain. "You couldn't have just come by and said hi?" His tone was a little sarcastic, but he was trying really hard not to sound bitter. The man in front of him had saved his life, and bitching about the fact that he seemed to have just allowed his friends to think he was dead, felt a little ungrateful. The look in his eyes said he couldn't decide if he wanted to yell and scream or have a calm collected conversation. In the end he tried to smile, letting the sudden relief from old grief buoy his spirit. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," Philip returned, going with the flow, "I'm not so sure now." That actually brought a genuine grin to Nick's face, and in an effort to do something, Alex offered around the sandwiched. This conversation was very hard, and there were certain things the ex-SEAL chose not to go into just now. Instead, he went for a quip. "So this sympathetic healing thing," he said lightly, "it just something you picked up after you burned to a crisp?" "Sort of," was the quick reply. They just started at each other for a moment. There was a lot between them, a great deal hadn't been settled from before the `death', now it was almost impossible to see the relationship that had once been there. Philip knew they were going to have to have a long talk about this, and soon, he did not want a friendship based on a misplaced gratitude. Now, however, was not the time, maybe once the initial shock had worn off. The three females in the room exchanged glances as they read the faces of their friends, even Kat could see some of what was going on. They chose to intervene and from there they diverted the conversation onto a lighter note. They chatted idly about some of the things that had happened in the prodigal's absence, and they demolished every last sandwich. Idle conversation was much easier than deep discussions and the group fell into it gladly. It was just over half an hour later that they heard the front door open. "Sounds like the boss is home," Nick commented as they all looked at each other like naughty children. It was like being caught with their fingers in the cookie jar, as somehow the little gathering seemed almost covert. "Crunch time," were Alex's words and they all stood up. The moment Derek walked into the house he knew something was different. It was one of his stranger premonitions as he suddenly felt a warmth around him, and yet he was entirely confused. Rachel looked at him strangely as he paused in the doorway and frowned. It was as Alex appeared from the living room, looking a little unsure of herself, that the psychiatrist knew that something not quite normal was going on. As usual, Derek had told her nothing about being summoned back to the house, Rachel thought he'd just decided to return. "I found our mystery man," Alex said slowly, "or rather, he found me." Philip had followed her to the door, and he took his cue, shortly followed by Kat. The girl ran to her mother with a very cheerful expression on her face. "My god," Derek said under his breath. He, even more so than the others, had great trouble accepting the apparition in front of him. The battle of his emotions did not show on his face, he had been controlling them for too long, but the influx of confusion almost overwhelmed his inner self. Part of him wanted to laugh with joy as the loss he had been carrying in his heart tried to fly away, and yet the Precept part of him issued a warning. He would have dearly loved to walk up to Philip and welcome him back to the house, but as the two looked at each other, they both knew that wasn't yet possible. Rachel just stared at her daughter, and then back to Philip. This defied any rational explanation, and her experience with dopplegangers was too clear in her memory for her to accept the current situation. Kat seemed to sense her mother's apprehension, and so she just slipped her finger's into Rachel's hand and squeezed. The two other occupants of the living room now walked into the hall as well. The petite, bare foot Jasmine smiled at the newcomers with her most innocent expression. "Where have you been?" Derek asked the most pressing question in his mind. "Ireland," Philip replied calmly, "well mostly." He'd found out sometime after he'd woken that he'd lost a good five weeks before meeting Jas the first time. "Why didn't you contact us?" it was a common thought, but so far the young man had avoided answering it. Here and now he felt a little guilty about the answer, but he didn't lie, and he was not about to start now. "At the time," he said slowly, "it didn't seem important." It was the plain truth, but it sounded so harsh. The revelation was obviously difficult for Derek to understand, even Alex looked a little askance. `I couldn't face it.', `I didn't remember.' or anything similar would have been easier to accept, but `It didn't seem important.' was like a physical blow. It was now that Kat decided to put her view on the situation across. "Philip's been busy," she said as if it should have been obvious to everyone, "we weren't important until we needed him." "What a remarkable child," even Jas was impressed. How she knew all these things was beyond most of the adults, even the psychics. It was probably that she had no preconceived ideas and therefore there were no barriers to her gift. Kat saw and believed, never just putting things down to her imagination. "I want to come home," Philip said simply, before anyone else could speak. It was a plain request, but the young man did not expect a straight answer. There were too many variables, too many dangerous possibilities, and he did not expect Derek to welcome him until all questions were answered. There was of course one puzzle who could reveal herself. "Greetings, Precept," Jas said formally, "I am Jasmine, and I offer my services to your house." She had stepped forward and she bowed her head slightly. "May I be so bold as to enquire what exactly you are?" Derek did not need to be subtle. "I am the Guide," the woman replied, "and I will teach all that I know to any who care to learn. Much of my knowledge is only of use to the Keeper, but there are parts other may wish to understand." "Do you ask anything in return?" the head of the house knew that this was no ordinary human being, and when it came to such offers, there was usually a catch. "No," the reply rather surprised Derek. There were going to have to be long discussions about all of this, and the hallway was not the right place. "Let's go into the conference room," the older man said evenly, "we can talk there." End of Part 4 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 5 It was peculiar sitting at this end of the table, away from his usual place beside Alex, but Philip knew he was not yet a part of this house again. It was going to take time, and a lot of convincing to put him back in even a piece of the position of trust he had held. When a meeting was going on, this room was usually a place for just the adults of the house, but today Kat accompanied them. She sat beside Rachel on a stool, solemnly silent in her new found involvement. "You realise that we cannot just accept you at face value," Derek said slowly once they were all quiet. "Too much depends on this house." "We didn't expect open arms," Philip responded with no sign of resentment in his voice. "I will do whatever it takes to prove I am neither some apparition, nor am I possessed." From the look on her face, Alex was already convinced, but the Precept of the house would be far more difficult to pursuade. The younger psychic was, however, the next `witness' as she revealed what she had found in the records. She gave them a professional, objective view of the information concerning the previous incident in the files. Her personal opinions would wait discussions she knew would come later. Once Derek invited comments, she would explain exactly what view she chose to take. It was when the young woman passed on the facts which Jasmine had provided that the attention turned to the not quite human individual. "You have told us you are the Guide," Derek looked directly into the woman's green eyes, "but what exactly does that mean, and where do you come from?" The peculiar young woman had been prepared for that, in fact she was prepared for most things. "I was human once," she replied calmly, "a long time ago, but I have never before lived in the mortal realm. My mother died at the exact same moment as the last Keeper, with me unborn in her womb. The crystal's power claimed my form, and changed me. It taught me everything, and as I was taught, so will I teach. I have watched the world turn and I have waited, and then Philip came. Now I will be where ever he needs me to be." The fact that she was not even a human being came as a shock to the non-sensitives in the room. On the surface she looked normal, except maybe her sense of dress. The fact that Nick had been talking to her for a considerable amount of time and never noticed a thing, worried him slightly. The way Philip didn't seem to find his companion remotely disturbing was also off putting. "Are you mortal?" it was a valid question. "Not exactly," she replied honestly, "I am not immortal, but I will never grow old. However, if you are asking, can I die, then the answer is yes. It would probably take a great deal of effort to kill me, but it is possible. My life-force is connected with Philip's, he is the reason I exist in this world. When he dies, so will I." She did not seem in the least bit concerned about the situation. Jasmine had come to terms with her existence a long time ago, and she was content. The fact that the man to whom she was eternally connected was madly in love with her, and she with him, was an added bonus. With the mention of Philip, all eyes turned back to the young man. All the scrutiny made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't flinch from it. He had been telling the absolute truth when he said he was willing to do whatever it took to regain the trust of his friends. "What made you return now," Derek asked pointedly, "how did you know what was happening?" The extent of his abilities was a mystery, even to Philip, and as Jas constantly reminded him, he seemed to be able to do things of which he should not be capable, and yet the simplest things could often escape him. The answer to this question, however, was not difficult. "I saw it happen," the young man replied evenly, "I had a vision." He was looking straight into Derek's eyes, and he knew they understood each other perfectly. The Sight affected people in different ways, but the way he explained gave Rayne a clear picture of exactly what it meant. Kat saw things, Alex had visions and seemed to able to empathise with just about any situation, but Derek was the only one that knew how violent a vision could be. He knew what it was like to really see, to experience an event through another's senses, and he understood what Philip was telling him. "I've been living inside a shell, protected," the younger psychic continued slowly, "but that shattered. You could say my life began again when Nick's nearly ended ... I couldn't just let him die." "But you could let us bury you, and watch your family mourn?" he was not going to be allowed to get away with a short explanation, Nick couldn't contain his anger anymore. The accusation exploded from the ex-SEAL's mouth before he could contain it, but he clamped down in it very swiftly. Philip did not try and blame his friend for the reaction, but he could not keep the hurt from momentarily crossing his features. "I didn't even think about it," he responded as he tried to explain. "It wasn't that I didn't remember, it was that I had no connection to what I was." He was having great difficulty finding the right words, how could he make them understand what it had been like? "When you dream," the young man continued finally, "you can watch what happens without caring what you see. My world has been a small farm in Ireland, nothing else was ... was ... real." He said the last word as if it was almost a revelation to himself. He really didn't understand what had been happening, all he could say was that it had, and he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Now was now, and then had been necessary - quite an attitude for a man who had never before been able to leave his past behind. "How did you survive the fire?" Derek took up the questioning again, he was interested in everything. This was more difficult to answer. "I don't know," it was the only honest reply, "the last thing I remember clearly before I met Jasmine, was walking up the stairs of that house. The rest is a haze of emotions and flames. I woke up at the end of March, I have no idea what happened in between." He looked to Jas for clarification, but she just shrugged. "Philip was with me, but not with me for a long time," she said quietly, she had told him this before, "I could not touch him, but he existed in my place. There he always looked as he does now, he did not change, or even appear injured, but since it was not his body that was with me I cannot say what happened to it. Once I could reach him, I knew I had to wake him, it is as simple as that." "Not his body?" Derek wanted a cleared picture. "The crystal is a power which exists outside this universe," Jasmine was teaching again, "it cannot truly be described by anything of this universe, yet it's energy may touch it through the Keeper. Just as it cannot exist there, no human could truly exist in it's realm, they are not compatible. A representation is, however, not a problem, and Philip's own mind created that when it was required. Where his body was, I cannot say, probably somewhere safe where it could be kept and healed." The young man left these explanations to his companion, he knew them, but she was far more qualified to give the truth. This conversation was becoming a little surreal for the more sceptical people sitting around the table. Since Derek appeared to be digesting the information, Rachel chose her moment. "You speak of this crystal as if it were alive," the psychiatrist said carefully, "but how could that be?" "It is alive," Philip took up the reigns with a quiet certainty in his voice, "just not in anyway we can truly understand. We call it the crystal because that is the closest we can come to a description. It is not of this world, it cannot be placed in this context, but we have to have some way of expressing it's existence." He was adamant, and his tone bore no argument. He looked vaguely surprised with himself as he finished speaking, as did Rachel. Something about the way she had asked the question had touched a nerve, and Philip was somewhat shocked at his reaction. A vaguely apologetic expression crossed his face, there were some parts of his psyche he hadn't yet explored. "What would you do if we decided your presence was too much of a risk?" Derek changed track completely and took everyone by surprise. Keeping emotion from wandering straight across his features had never been one of Philip's strong points, and now was no exception. He almost flinched at the suggestion, and it took him a good few seconds to recompose himself. That was really the only answer anybody needed, but he spoke anyway. "I don't know," he said slowly, never taking his eyes off the man who probably knew him best in the world. Silence descended as the others almost expected him to go on. He did not continue, those three words were his answer, the plain, honest truth and he was not going to embellish it. Derek seemed to appreciate the simplicity, and he was also quiet for a long moment. Then, suddenly his gaze flicked to the stranger in the room, his focus of attention changing completely. "I would like to speak with Jasmine, alone," he said evenly, much to everyone's surprise. The young looking woman just smiled as if she'd known this all along. <> she sent in Philip's direction as his anxiety showed, and she patted him on the hand. There was no arguing when their Precept was in his present mood, and everyone stood, slowly. They left the room in silence, not quite sure what they should be doing. "You present me with quite a puzzle," Derek said calmly, rising to his feet and walking towards Jasmine's end of the table. "Would I be correct in assuming that Philip is in love with you?" It would have been pointless to deny it, so the young woman nodded. "And I with him," she replied evenly. "It was as much a surprise to me as it seems to be to you. I was created to be his teacher, I did not expect anything else." The way the man's eyes wandered over her made Jas think of an enemy observing his adversary. He was not exactly hostile, but his body language could not be considered friendly. In a flash of insight, she realised that he was worried about Philip: whatever he chose to show on the outside, inside he was anxious for a friend. In this equation, Jasmine was the unknown factor. "Are you lovers?" it was a plain enquiry. "No," Derek was surprised by her answer for the second time that day. In another time and place the reaction may have amused her, but at that moment Jas was being very serious. "As hard as it is for you to believe," she told the psychic calmly, "our relationship is not consummated. We have kissed, we are very close, but we have never gone farther than that. No matter what he may think, Philip is not ready for that yet, and I will not allow him to be hurt. You see me as an opponent, a player to drag a spiritual man from his chosen path: I am neither." They were only a few feet apart and the tension was very apparent. The relaxed mask was gone from Jasmine as she spoke the plain and simple truth. This was very important to her and she wanted to make her companion understand. "I would never do anything that would cause him pain," she continued with complete certainty. "If I thought it was best for him I would leave, let him get on with his life, return to the person he was, but we both know that isn't the right course of action. I didn't tear him away from his vocation, and if it was what he wanted I would let him go back to God. He's changed Precept, and he does not want to be the same person anymore." "How can you be sure?" a very simple question from Derek's unwavering calm. "Because he has told me," Jasmine replied her voice returning to a quieter level, "because I have seen inside his heart. I know how he was hurt, and I have felt his self doubt, which is why I would not let anything physical happen between us. He could not make a complete decision until he had his life back. Even I was surprised when it did not change anything." It was something she had not told Philip, but she had been dreading the day he would feel for his past again. She had known that is might mean his calling would once again take over his life, and she had not wanted to loose him. Jasmine would never be able to explain to anyone how much joy she had felt when he had confided in her that he would officially be giving up the cloth as soon as he had helped Nick. Derek did not need the Sight to see the real love shining in her eyes. He had kept his thoughts about her as neutral as possible so far, but he could not help empathising with her. When he had thought Philip dead a hole had opened in his soul. The young priest had been part of his family, the serious, yet kind and spiritual man who could ease any turmoil except that within his own heart. When he'd first seen him in the hallway, the relief had been incredible until doubt had clouded it. Then there had been the appearance of the elf like woman, and it was as if she were a threat to rekindling what had been. She was the real stone in the road, not the fact that Philip seemed to have become some sort of healer. Jasmine, and the way the young man looked at her were the factors which had truly threatened the house. With her there, it could never be the same again. Yet sitting there, looking into her face, Derek knew that he was not the only one who loved Philip. With that thought in mind he continued his task of finding out about Jasmine, but with just a little more gentleness. ===================================================================== Rachel was clinging to Kat, almost as if her life depended on it, and the girl seemed to be accepting the action with calm understanding. The child smiled at Philip, but it didn't help ease the fact that, when they'd moved to the living room, everyone else had sat on one side of the room and he on the other. The easy conversation which had grown up amongst Alex, Nick and him, had ended the moment Derek had returned, and Rachel's reaction had turned it into awkward silence. Nobody seemed quite able to meet his gaze, except Rachel who was not hiding her anxiety. It was like sitting in a doctor's surgery, waiting to hear whether you were terminally ill or not. They must have been sitting there in total silence for a good ten minute when finally Alex stood up. "This is ridiculous," she declared loudly and proceeded to walk across the imaginary line that had gone up. Philip had sat on the couch this time, and without another word Alex sat on the other half of the piece of furniture. "Hi, I'm Alex," she said sarcastically, "we don't seem to have been introduced." That brought a half smile to Philip's features and Nick actually laughed, all Rachel managed, was to turn her worried gaze away. The psychiatrist did not seem pleased when Kat giggled. "So do you think you're the topic of conversation in there?" Alex continued with a fake, covert glance towards the hallway. "Well my ears aren't burning anymore," the pale eyed man returned, so relieved that someone was actually talking to him. "A tried and tested method for divining," it was Nick's comment, this was getting better all the time. "If it works, it works," was the light reply. The ex-SEAL didn't cross the `divide', but he did perch on the edge of a chair, facing his friend. Maybe is was going to be all right after all. "So what else can you do," the young man asked with a grin, "besides perform miracles that is?" The ex-priest's face broke into a full smile, Nick had a direct way of expressing himself. Everything was very up front where the ex-SEAL was concerned, and it was kind of refreshing. "Is it just the Sight?" Alex added in her two cents. "Yes and no," Philip told them calmly, "it gets complicated." He gave his researcher friend a look that said, surely you understand, and she grinned. It was good to put people in a spot every now and then, and she was enjoying this. "More complicated than repairing the human body," Nick was not backing down, he seemed to need to know. "Actually yes," his companion replied after a short pause, "you could say that with that I'm a natural, everything else I have to work at. Last time I tried to move something I ..." "Move something, like how?" Philip had just made a jump in logic, Alex wanted clarification. "Jas insists I should be telekinetic," Philip did not have a problem with explaining this, "but I can't get the hang of it." Now even Rachel couldn't hide her curiosity, she was listening closely. "I seem to exact side effects every time I try," the young man seemed oblivious to the fact that he was talking about something even the Legacy didn't come across very often. "Last time I set fire to the Kitchen. Jas had me trying to move this spoon on the table ... she gets these ideas into her head sometimes ... and the next thing I know the pile of runner beans she's preparing for dinner are on fire. The spoon moved approximately a centimetre." Nick found this very funny. At first his mouth was vaguely slack with amazement at what he was being told, and then the humour of the story super imposed itself. His laugh was infectious and Kat quickly began giggling again. The sound brought a smile to Alex's face, but she didn't laugh until she heard Philip's next comment. "Surprisingly enough," he said lightly, "that's what Jas did. She laughed at me for three days." Now his other friend couldn't help herself, the idea conjured such pictures in her mind. "Let me know if you want to do anything like that again," she said between chortles, "I'll warn the fire department." Philip was in the middle of explaining that it wasn't just fire he had a problem with, the first time every fork in the house had tied itself in a knot, when there was a noise from the doorway. Jas looked even smaller when she stood next to the tall Precept. There was almost an expression of amusement on Derek's face as he listened, which vanished the moment people noticed he was there. "Very interesting," he said calmly as he gained the attention of the whole room, "if you wouldn't mind we might like to observe the phenomenon." The young man just nodded. "I believe that actions speak louder than words," Derek continued slowly, "and you have earned at least that chance, Philip. You and Jasmine are welcome here. As for your status as a member of this Legacy house, if you prove to be what you seem, then we will be more than happy to invite you back in." It was more than Philip had dared to hope for at this early stage, Derek seemed to have just taken everything into his own hands and made a decision. Most people in the room looked a little surprised, but no one chose to voice their opinion. "Now if you'll excuse me I have some work to do," the Precept continued rapidly. "If you have no objections, I would ask that you allow Alex and Rachel to examine you for our files. We can arrange for your things to be picked up from your hotel." Then he was gone, disappearing in the direction of his study. He left the rest of the house to just get on with it. Philip looked at Jas, who smiled, then to Nick, then to Alex. The young researcher smiled broadly and threw her arms around him for the second time that day. "Welcome home, Philip," she said warmly. End of Part 5 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 6 Half an hour later everyone except Kat, who Rachel had sent back outside, was in the lab. Alex was already buzzing with ideas for experiments they could do after the initial medical once over, and Philip, being his usual agreeable self was nodding politely. The MD among them was not trying to pretend she was totally at ease with the current arrangements, but she was being professional about it. There was no warmth in the way she looked at Philip, but there was no hostility either. Jas was taking a back seat in this situation for now, and quietly waited for her turn. "Well I suppose we may as well start with a general physical," Rachel said evenly, "if you take your shirt off and sit down over here, we can get started." The young man made absolutely no objection, he was just quite happy to do whatever they wanted. He was still having trouble believing that he was home. The buttons on his blue top gave no resistance and he removed the garment rapidly. It was when he sat down that he discovered Nick was staring at him. It took him a few moment to realise that the ex-SEAL was fixated on the centre of his chest and as he looked down he realised why. The neat set of scars that littered his torso were very pale, and looked as if they were years old, but they were still there and they must have matched exactly the ones that decorated Nick's body. They would eventually just be ghosts of impressions on his skin, but for now they were very visible, and it must have brought home to Nick exactly what had happened. Alex also looked a little surprised, they had known what had occurred, but this was somehow, the final proof. The look on Nick's face said he was remembering the event which had given him the injuries, and he was suddenly very pale. "I'll see you later," he said a little too quickly, and he turned for the door. Nobody tried to stop him. "I should have thought," Philip said quietly. Alex just smiled at him reassuringly, she wasn't quite sure what to say. The scars made Rachel pause for a moment, and her eyes didn't seem quite so hard when she looked at him. It didn't stop the electrodes she attached to his chest from being cold, though. ===================================================================== Both subjects came up totally human on all tests Rachel chose to run, although they exhibited brain patterns the Doctor had come to associate with the more talented members of mankind. Jasmine shifting into the form of a cat and then allowing the MD to examine her again, raised a few eyebrows, and it turned out that she seemed to be whatever shape she chose to take. In feline form she really was a cat, all be it a cat with a unique intelligence. It was shortly after that when Alex stuck electrodes to Philip's head and started testing him for various psychic abilities. They started with something easy. It was a simple game Philip had seen Alex play with Kat on occasion, and it involved cards and telepathy. It was quite simple, the researcher would turn over the top card where her subject couldn't see it and he would have to tell her what it was. The first couple Philip managed to totally miss, but with a little scolding things changed. "Okay," Alex said with a resigned smile, "again." She picked up a card and looked at it, then she thought about it very hard. "Queen," the pale eyed man said after a few seconds, "queen of spades." His friend looked delighted, he'd finally got one right. "Now we see if that was fluke," she said lightly and picked up the next card. Philip looked straight into her eyes, and it took him no time at all. "Two of diamonds," he said quite confidently. It appeared that he had tuned in. Jas was sitting in the corner next to Rachel, just watching, she seemed pleased. The doctor had finally given up trying to be suspicious and was now just being interested. This might work out after all. Alex and Philip went through a few more cards whilst the computer recorded all the strange readings the young man's brain was giving out. They really seemed to be getting into the flow of it, and both of them were starting to enjoy themselves. Alex had begun experimenting with how much concentration she had to put in for the ex-priest to be able to read her, and slowly she began reducing it. When they were about twenty cards in they're gazes were locked together and she just blindly reached for a card. She never even had a chance to turn it over when Philip spoke. "Three of hearts," the young man's mouth had operated before his brain had time to engage. They both just sat there in surprise, until slowly Alex turned over the card she was holding. She held up the three of hearts so the other two could see it. "Let's see if you can do that again," the researcher said quietly. This was an element of the game she had not considered. The next two cards he could not identify until Alex turned them over, and actually looked at them, but the third the answer just fell out of his mouth. He couldn't explain it, and the computer recorded an interesting little spike every time he did it. Both participants were beginning to think it was a random process as they went through another two cards with no success. Philip was determined that he was going to figure this out and as Alex reached for yet another on the pack he put everything he was worth into the concentration. His friend's finger's touched the pack, and suddenly his mind filled with images of cards. The pictures flew through his thoughts so fast and with such intensity that it actually hurt. He sat back in his chair with a grunt, closing his eyes and trying to force the torrent from his mind. "Philip, what's the matter?" Alex forgot the experiment the moment her friend appeared distressed, and she leapt out of her chair. Her first urge was to touch him, but she remembered her experience earlier in the day and managed to hold back. Jas was by his side in seconds, and she too refrained from interfering. It took him a few moments, but finally the young man opened his eyes, and a mischievous smile played at the edged of his mouth. "I think I pushed too hard," he said lightly, now that the pain was gone, he chalked the whole thing up to another little accident. "Are you okay now?" Alex sounded very worried. He patted her hand lightly. "I'm fine," he responded calmly, "it was nothing." "I hate to disagree," it was Rachel's voice, and she was looking at the read out the computer had recorded, "but it was definitely something. There is a spike on this thing to rival the Empire State building." You couldn't really argue with a machine, but as far as Philip was concerned, the incident was over. He'd done something and his body had paid him back whilst refusing to go any further. "What happened, exactly?" Jasmine stepped in now. If there wasn't any arguing with a machine, there was even less comment to the contrary when three women wanted answers. The young man gave in to the inevitable. "I was trying too hard," Philip explained evenly, "and instead of one card I got this rush of lots of them. With it came a headache, that's all." Jas and Alex looked at each other as if something seemed to occur to both of them. It had obviously passed their subject by, but he was quite happy in his role as guinea pig. "Can you remember what cards you saw?" the Legacy researcher asked the question this time. Now one thing Philip had always had, was a good memory, and Jas had been making him improve it even more. With little or no prompting he closed his eyes and tried to bring back what had flashed through his mind. He noticed very quickly that it seemed to be very easy to remember them, almost like a vision. Visions weren't like normal memories, they didn't go away quite so quickly. "Five of diamonds, six of spades," he began, and then proceeded to rattle off another ten cards. "Is that enough?" he asked as he reached only the middle of the memory. Jasmine reached for the pack of cards, and one by one she turned over the top ones. It didn't take them long to notice that the order was by no means random. "Incredible," was all Alex could say. Philip just tried to look innocuous, but provided the rest of the cards in the pack with complete accuracy. He didn't know how he'd done it, and he didn't know if he could do it again, he just hoped nothing in the castle was on fire. ===================================================================== They talked, they recorded, they experimented, and they spent the entire afternoon finding things out. The two unusual individuals did anything they were asked, and by dinner time even Rachel seemed to have warmed to them both. They were laughing and joking, almost as if what they were doing was a completely ordinary, and everything was as it had been. Even the inter-reaction between Philip and Jas, that would never in a million years have been there before, did not seem to affect the mood. Only when Kat wandered back in did her mother's guard go back up slightly, but it was nothing like before. Nick did not appear at the meal table, and while Alex chatted animatedly with Derek about what they'd been up to, Philip excused himself early and went on a small mission. The young man found his friend in the garage with his head under the hood of his mustang. "How are you going to blow it up this time?" Philip spoke first because even though they both knew Nick realised he was there, the ex-SEAL made no move to start a conversation. "The oil needed changing," the dark haired man replied with total neutrality in his voice. He did stand back from the car, almost automatically wiping his hands down what should have been overalls, but which he quickly noticed was a clean T-shirt. His friend took the opportunity to step closer and passed him a discarded rag, but Nick would only look at him for a moment. The angry young man cleaned one finger after another whilst his eyes remained firmly fixed on the engine block. "You're allowed to be angry with me," Philip finally went directly for the heart of the matter, "yell at me, hit me if you like, but please, don't shut me out." That gained him a hot glare from his companion, but the anger that shone in those eyes seemed tinged with guilt. He said nothing and turned away again. "Nick," the young man's tone was softer than before, "whatever you think you owe me, you don't. I want your friendship, but I don't want it based on some misplaced feeling of obligation." The laugh that almost exploded from the ex-SEAL's mouth was not a humorous sound. "Don't owe you anything?" his tone was incredulous. "I should be dying, fading away in some hospital room, but I'm walking around, talking and thinking. You wear my scars." At least he was letting out some of the anger, but he still wouldn't look at Philip. "Scars fade," was the Irishman's quiet reply, "I've given you a few." At last Nick actually turned to his one time friend, surprise in his eyes. "I've betrayed you twice," Philip continued evenly. "You forgave me once, can you do it again?" It was obvious that the ex-SEAL didn't know what to say, he seemed totally stunned by his companion's words. The young man had been running through many scenarios in his head throughout the afternoon as he worked, but this had definitely not been one of them. Part of him felt the betrayal of which Philip spoke, but the rest of his mind was steeped in the debt he felt to this man. He really had no idea how to react as the opposing sections of his thoughts warred with each other. "You saved my life," he finally said as if that would answer everything. "Just returning a favour," the gentle lilt of the young man's voice could calm a raging lion, "but that wasn't what I asked. We were friends once, good friends before I blew it. We were just beginning to find that a second time, and I seem to have managed to destroy it again. I can't change that, but I can say I'm sorry." Nick knew his companion was manipulating him into letting his emotions go, but it was like trying to stop a flood tide. "You didn't even let us know you were still alive," he exploded all at once as his anger boiled to the surface. "How could you do that? There was nothing left, not even a scrap of your self-sacrificing hide to bury. Do you know what that felt like? Replaying every moment in my mind to see if there was anything I could have done to save you, knowing in my heart that I couldn't, but still needing to, and it turns out you've been hiding away in Ireland all that time. Can you possibly know what that was like?" "No," the reply was very quiet and very short. They stood there, eyes locked together, reading each other's faces. Both knew they had caused the other pain in different ways, and there was a question in each mind. Could they ever rebuild what had once been, or was it lost forever? "I couldn't come back," Philip said finally, "I had to heal. No matter how I try, I cannot regret that, because I feel what would have happened if I had returned. I couldn't take any distractions, I had enough trouble trying to figure out how to relate to myself let alone other people. I cannot repent doing what I had to do, but I'm so sorry it had to hurt you. I *needed* to be alone." "But you weren't quite all alone, were you?" Philip's mind was caught in momentary shock, was that really jealousy he heard in Nick's voice. His mouth opened slightly where he had been about to speak, but the reply had taken his words away. It had really never occurred to him that Nick's resentment would be directed anywhere except directly at him. The ex-SEAL actually looked a little embarrassed at what he had said, as if he wanted to take them back. "She put me back together," Philip said slowly, "without Jasmine I would still be wandering in a world I no-longer understood." The young man walked round the side of the car, right up to his friend. He finally saw part of his friend's anger that he had not understood before. "I've been a little mixed up in the past, haven't I," he said quietly. "I must be a bit of a mystery to a man who can make a decision and go with it as far as it runs." The rage that had consumed Nick only a few moments before was fading rapidly, and it was being replaced by a faint hope. Philip's comment actually drew an ironic smile from his companion. "You found what you needed when you entered the Legacy," the ex- priest continued calmly. "I thought I had when I entered the church, and the Legacy gave me a direction, but Ellen smashed just about any faith I had in myself. Alex has her passion to change man's inhumanity to man, Rachel has her need to know, and Derek has his incredible dedication to this house. I always felt a little out of place with all my doubt, but I have found what I was looking for. Don't blame Jasmine for being there for me, she was all I had for a while. She is part of what I have become and I love her dearly." They stood in silence as Nick let his friend's words sink in. There was just one thing he needed to know. "Will you leave us again?" before he could put his trust in this man again, he had to be sure. "No," it was so sure that Philip's reply left absolutely no doubt. He meant it as well. Where there had been a uncertain path before him once, now the way forward was a very clear trail, and the young man had no hesitation in choosing where his life lay. "Let's go find a drink," Nick said after a moment. His companion grinned and did not object. End of Part 6 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 7 Rachel followed Derek into his study after they had both watched Philip and Nick wander into the living room, laughing at some passing comment. As usual, the psychiatrist was worried about a man who took far too much on his shoulders. "So how are you handling this?" she asked calmly as the man she loved sat down. "How do you think?" was the reply as the little mischievous smile that always appeared when he was going to be difficult, slipped onto his face. His companion, however, was in no mood for games. "Don't try and hide from me," she said evenly, "I know you rather well, remember. You can't open up to any of the others yet, but I'm not taking no for an answer." She walked towards, then behind him and draped her arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head. "You can't tell me that the prodigal returns and it means nothing to you," the woman was not going to let this drop. Derek closed his eyes for a moment and just enjoyed her closeness, before he tried to think of what to say. There were things he didn't even tell Rachel, and they were playing on his mind, but he banished them for a moment. "I cannot quite explain the joy I felt when I first saw him," the Precept of the house said finally, "but ..." he trailed off, unable to quite formulate his thoughts. "But then you realised he might be more than he seems," his companion finished for him. A smile ran across Derek's features, sometimes it was almost as if Rachel was the psychic one. "I can't help wishing that I could just forget the responsibility of this house," the sensitive admitted slowly, "that I could just be happy to have one of our own back. I *know* Philip has returned, I just wish I could be sure he has not brought anything with him." "Only time will tell," the psychiatrist's words brought little comfort to her companion. There were things that were just not possible yet, and Derek so much wanted them to be. If he could he would have welcomed Philip back to the fold with open arms, another member of his family, but it was not time. For once in his life, he started to talk, and all Rachel had to do was listen. ===================================================================== The evening came and went and the household retired to bed almost as if it were a normal day. The only difference seemed to be the fact that two extra rooms were occupied. There was a calm over the San Francisco Legacy house as it slept under the summer night sky, but the Precept did very little sleeping. ===================================================================== The morning sun streamed through the dining room windows as Rachel walked in with a smile on her face. A weight had been lifted off the people who made themselves part of this family, and it showed, even if they couldn't exactly just go back to how it was. The only thing that surprised the psychiatrist as she found some food was the fact that her daughter was not at the breakfast table. One thing about Kat that did not differ from other little girls was her appetite. "Has Kat been down yet?" Rachel asked Alex as she sat down. "She flew through here about half an hour ago," the researcher replied with a bright smile. "She said she wanted to play in the garden whilst the birds were still singing." The mother had to smile back, her daughter had some interesting ideas. So long as she knew where she was, she was content and she set about her eggs and toast with a healthy vigour. As things seemed quite normal in the house, the MD and Alex fell into cheerful conversation whilst Nick tried to read the paper and they waited for Derek to make an appearance. The precept's eating habits could sometimes be erratic. In keeping with usual events, the ex-SEAL gave up trying to pretend he wasn't listening to the conversation a few minutes after it began, and by the time Jasmine breezed in, he was in full flow. No one tried to make it happen, but it was really inevitable, as soon as the young looking woman walked in, the talking stopped. Quite frankly, it was mostly surprise that caused the sudden cessation of sound. "Morning," Jas greeted lightly and unconsciously straightened her perfectly ordinary T-shirt and jeans. The nymph-like creature of the evening before actually looked like a completely ordinary woman, in every day casuals. She was even wearing shoes, and her long hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. "Hi," Alex found her tongue first, "just grab a plate and help yourself." "Thanks," the newcomer said brightly, doing a very good job of pretending she didn't notice all the attention. "Sleep well?" Nick really couldn't think of anything else to say. Jasmine beamed at him as she picked up a couple of pieces of toast and sat down. "Wonderfully, thank you," she said brightly, "I like this house, it feels so warm." Everyone at the table was given the distinct impression that she wasn't talking about the temperature. "There are some really weird waves flying around," she continued cheerfully, "but they sort of fit in with the whole atmosphere." Alex just laughed as the other two people at the table tried not to look completely bemused. "I think I'm going to like having you around," the researcher said happily. They chatted idly for a few minutes, until finally the subject seemed to be ebbing off somewhat. They were headed for an awkward silence, that much was obvious, so Nick decided to divert the course of the conversation. "So has Philip taken to lying around in bed all day?" he asked, mischievously glancing at his watch. The subject of his attention grinned, enjoying the fun, especially because she knew better. "Oh, he'll have been up and outside hours ago," the young woman returned triumphantly, "he can't resist watching the dawn. You'll probably find him in the garden under a tree." Nick's smile never slipped, but his eyes went straight to Rachel. The woman seemed to have suddenly lost interest in breakfast, and she was looking a little unsure. Whatever was going on, Jasmine knew she was missing the vital clue, so she did not try and interfere. The psychiatrist looked as if she was fighting herself, and her two Legacy comrades didn't quite know what to do. The warring instincts finally finished there battle, but there was still a little embarrassment on her face as the older woman stood up. "I just have to go find Kat," she said quickly and managed to walk out of the room slowly. It didn't take a genius to realise what was going on, and Jas deduced the information she was missing. "Katherine wouldn't happen to be outside would she?" the Guide asked the two remaining people calmly. Her tone was not condemnational, in fact it sounded understanding, but it didn't help the others feeling a little awkward. "Rachel doesn't mean anything," Alex tried to explain, "it's just she's had a bad experience with dead people coming back from the grave." Jasmine reacted very quickly, and put her hand out to reassure the other psychic. "It's okay, Alex," she said with a smile, "I know all about Rachel's husband and son." Her companions looked surprised. "Philip may not have felt a connection with you," the dark haired beauty told them both, "but he still told me about you all. I pestered him with questions, I'm nosy like that." Her comment made Nick smile again, and Jas knew she was on the right track. ===================================================================== By the time Rachel made it out of the house she was beginning to calm down. She didn't want to react to Philip this way, but Kat was her only child and she would do anything to protect her. Half her instincts said the young man was exactly what and who he said he was, but the other half spoke to her in words of warning. Maybe one day soon she would be able to trust him, but she would not risk her child on a maybe. She was not, however, about to be openly hostile about this and she walked slowly, rather than running to find her daughter like part of her mind urged her to do. The first thing that gave her an indication of where to go was the distant sound of laughter. Despite her battling inner voices her steps sped up, soon she heard voices. "But I don't understand," it was Kat, and she sounded cheerful, "it doesn't say anything." "You have to just listen," was the calm reply, with it's delightful Irish twang, "eventually you can just hear what it's saying. Just sit back and close your eyes." There was a moment's silence at which point Rachel realised that she'd stopped walking. She quickly began again, curious as well as anxious to find her child, now. "It's just the wind," Kat's voice again, her tone was only slightly annoyed. "Please, Philip, tell me what it's saying." The girl's mother wasn't quite sure she'd heard right. Were the pair of them really talking about a summer wind? "Okay," there was laughter in Philip's voice, "but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to hear it yourself sometime. There's a storm over the Atlantic ocean, a powerful storm, and it's edges are in this breeze. It wants to talk about nothing else, to tell the earth of it's accomplishments. But that's not all that made this air move and there are whispers of perfumed winds from the Caribbean. Those add a gentle hum to the magnificence of maelstrom." Rachel had stopped again, and she shook her head in self-admonition as she began walking a second time. Now she could see her daughter's feet sticking out from behind a large oak tree at the bottom of the bank. "It must be beautiful," Kat sounded enchanted, "how did you learn to understand what it's saying?" "Jasmine showed me," her companion replied cheerfully, "and she swears most of us can do it if we just take the time to learn." It sounded as if he was going to go on, but his voice suddenly stopped. Much to Rachel's surprise, a head appeared from behind the other side of the tree, and the psychiatrist was pinned down by the young man's peculiar gaze. She felt like a rabbit caught in headlights, even though he smiled as soon as he realised who it was. There was an understanding in his eyes as he saw her face and he disappeared behind the tree again. "Kat," Rachel heard him say, "I think your mother is looking for you." The girl's head appeared this time and she grinned at her parent. "Mom," she said brightly, climbing to her feet, "Philip was telling me all about the wind. Did you know it talks?" "Ah, no I didn't," was the careful reply as the child ran to Rachel. The young man standing next to the tree as she reached her mother could have in no way been considered threatening. His stance was casual, his face was open, but he was not trying to pretend he did not realise what was going on. "Maybe he could teach both of us to listen," Kat's enthusiasm was over-riding her usual insight into her mother's moods. Rachel really didn't know how to respond to that suggestion. "I'm afraid I don't have time right now," Philip stepped into the conversation, much to the psychiatrist's surprise, "I'm sorry Kat, but I have somethings to do before I go to mass this morning. Why don't we walk back to the house?" There was no argument from any adult direction, and Kat had never had any defences against Philip's smile. End of Part 7 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 8 Philip had wanted to see Derek before he left for the mainland, but the Precept had been keeping a low profile. They'd spoken briefly just before bed the night before, and the older man knew exactly where the younger was going and what he intended to do. Why the psychic did not seem to want to see his friend in the morning was a bit of a mystery. The fact that Philip was very nervous when he said goodbye to the other members of the house, including Jasmine, and headed into the city, was not much of a secret. He was going to officially end his connection with the cloth, and the strain showed. It wasn't that he was indecisive about the direction his life was taking, it was just that it was going to be difficult coming back from the dead, *and* resigning his position. Going to mass before he went to the Bishop's residence seemed to be the right thing to do somehow. No-one really took much notice of the young man sitting at the back, who for some reason felt it necessary to wear shades inside the church. The young priest who was taking the service was new to the diocese, so he did not recognise the man who took communion amongst all the regular congregation. After the service the man of the cloth almost walked up to the young stranger when he realised he was still sitting in the back pew long after everyone else was gone. Something about the stranger's stance stopped him, and his mind seemed to suddenly turn to the thought of the people he had to visit before lunch time. Philip just wanted a moment to himself, as he prayed and found the calm at his centre. He knew God was still with him, of that he had no doubt, and when he finally stood up he knew he was doing the right thing. ===================================================================== Philip had known his bishop for a long time, they had been very good friends, especially after a young priest had all but lost complete faith in himself, and needed more than just a spiritual guide. A young woman opened the door soon after he knocked at the house, and she smiled in a kind, neutral way that all nuns seemed to use when faced with someone they'd never met. "Can I help you?" she enquired calmly. "I'd like to see the Bishop, please," was the gentle reply. The look that was apt to appear on a secretary's face when someone happened to ask to see their boss without an appointment, came over the young woman's face at the request. "I'm sorry," she said politely, "but the bishop is very busy today, maybe if ..." "He'll see me," Philip insisted quietly. The nun was obviously not quite sure what to do. Faced with such confidence she was a little perturbed. "Well, I can ask," she decided finally, "who shall I say is waiting?" "Philip Callahan," the young man said calmly. He was left standing in the hall next to the open door as she disappeared into the big house. There was the sound of children playing from the open door to the back garden, and Philip surmised that the Bishop's house keeper's grand children were on their monthly visit to the old man, who was an adopted uncle. The young man had rotated on the spot and was watching the traffic through the front door when he heard a noise behind him. "I don't know why you told Sister Marie-Ruth what you did," a voice started, "but ..." The sentence stopped the moment Philip turned and looked back into the house. The look on his old friend's face was halfway between shock and total disbelief. "Hello," the young man said calmly, "I need to talk to you." There were a few seconds complete silence, and the young nun was looking at both of them very strangely. "Philip," the Bishop said eventually, "this is incredible. Come to my study, we can talk there." They left the Sister to her own conclusions. ===================================================================== The two men sat on either side of the desk and just contemplated each other for a moment. The elder clergyman was obviously having the same problem accepting Philip as every one else. "What happened to you?" the Bishop finally spoke. "How did you escape from that fire, and why didn't you come back?" They were exactly the questions Philip had been expecting, it wasn't exactly a surprise. The man in front of him knew that the Luna Foundation was not exactly the benign research association it appeared to be, but it was not going to be easy to make him believe the extreme possibilities. "I was rescued," the younger of the two said calmly, "and I didn't return because I had no reason to. I'm not the same man you knew Charles, I've changed." He was still wearing his sunglasses and it was obvious that this bothered his friend. With quiet efficiency he took hold of the frames and removed the covers that hid his soul. The Bishop frowned and went for the only rational explanation that came into his head. "You've taken to wearing lenses?" he asked in a very surprised voice. That made his companion laugh, that was one suggestion none of the Legacy members had even considered. "No," he replied evenly, "my eyes have changed colour, but that's not really important. I'm leaving the priesthood, and for that I need your help." Now the silence was stunned and slightly taken aback. This revelation on top of everything else was just a little much for the old man in the leather chair. He'd seen a man with a broken spirit, run back to his god and his vows, and it had never even crossed his mind that the two of them would ever be having this conversation. If there was one person he had thought was following the correct calling it was Philip Callahan, and yet looking into his eyes it was obvious that the decision was made. "Leaving," the priest's tone was incredulous, "but, Philip, why? Maybe if you went on a retreat for a while, thought about it in calmer surroundings, you'd change your mind. You're a good priest, child, the church cannot afford to loose people like you." A small smile played across the young man's face, he had never seen himself as a particularly good priest. It seemed ironic that others thought he was. "Nothing will make me reconsider my decision," he said calmly. "I think if I explain you will understand, you may think I'm insane, but you will understand." Philip hadn't just come to this man to help him formally leave the church, he had come because he needed to talk to someone. He wanted to make someone else realise what he was, someone who would not look at it with prior knowledge, but just take it at face value. He also knew that this man would never tell another living soul. The young psychic began with the girl and the fire, and started to talk. He talked for two hours until it seemed he must be out of words, and then he talked some more. His friend never questioned, never interrupted, and did not judge. He just sat there, listening, and seeing a side of Philip he had never before met. By the time the young Irishman had finished, the Bishop knew all about the Legacy, the crystal, and Jasmine. How much he believed was not certain, but that Philip believed it, and that he would no longer be happy as a man of the cloth was quite obvious. "I'll be very sorry to see you go," Charles said after his companion finally stopped talking, "but I'll make sure the papers are ready by the end of the month." They sat in silence again for a while, but this was a quiet of understanding rather than shock. Lunch had come and gone, but they had not been disturbed, and only now, the sound of children playing intruded into the room. "Would you like to stay for tea, my friend?" the older man asked with a smile. "I seem to recall that Mrs Rosa's granddaughter was rather fond of you." "Ah, thank you," Philip returned quietly, "but I'm not quite sure I'm ready to meet Mrs Rosa. I can imagine her reaction to my resurrection." A bark of a laugh left the Bishop's throat, he had to agree. He sobered quickly, however, and caught his companion with a serious gaze. "I understand," he said slowly, "but if you ever need me, Philip, I'm here for you." A grateful smile appeared on the young man's face, but he didn't quite know what to say. He was saved from the awkward silence, however, but a yelp of fear, shortly followed by a scream of pain. "Grandma," the shout of a frightened child reached the ears of both men in the study and they headed for the French windows immediately. Emile, Mrs Rosa's granddaughter was running from the trees at the bottom of the garden, towards the back door, and the crumpled form of Michael, her grandson could be seen in the shade of the large apple bows. He was moving, but he was obviously hurt, and there was a piteous crying coming from his direction. It didn't take a genius to figure out he'd fallen out of the tree. There was no hesitation in Philip's stride as he ran from the house at the same moment Sister Marie-Ruth appeared at the rear door. The young man had to negotiate a bed of roses so the two reached the child together. "It's okay, Michael," the nun said with an admiral amount of calm, "we're here." The boy was cradling his arm and there was blood seeping through his fingers. As the young woman gently removed his hand so she could see what was wrong, the reason for the red liquid became obvious. The bone of the forearm had snapped violently and it was protruding through the skin. "Holy Mother," Marie-Ruth whispered as she saw the injury. "Go and tell them to call an ambulance." She instructed Philip without expecting him to object, when he knelt down beside her she was a little put out. The boy's crying had turned to a low whimper at the presence of his elders, but he couldn't help flinching when the young man reached towards him. "Don't worry, Michael," the ex-priest said with a reassuring smile, "I'm not going to hurt you. You remember me don't you?" The child nodded slowly. "That's good," Philip continued in his gentle lilt, "now will you let me see your arm." The moment the nun had let go, the other hand had curled back round the injury protectively, but now it moved away again. The moment Philip's finger's touched the limb he knew the boy's agony and he could do nothing but what followed. He snared the youngster's gaze with his own and exerted his will. "There's no pain, Michael," he said calmly, ignoring everything else, "it doesn't hurt any more." Sister Marie-Ruth would have protested at the peculiar goings on, but she was stunned into silence as the boy's whimpers died away almost instantly. He was staring fixedly at the young man beside her, and the creases of pain rapidly left his face. Philip had hold of Michael's wrist and elbow, but the touch was only light and there was no way it could explain what the nun saw next. She watched as the bone actually slipped slowly back into place and the wound closed behind it. There was the sound of creaking sinews and the flesh actually knitted together in a healing scab. The boy may have been spared the pain, but it flowed into Philip like a river. It was a tide he had no intention of stemming, but he couldn't ignore it completely, and the best he could do was force it to the back of his mind. He felt the bone in his arm shift and the flesh tear before his abilities began to heal it. The blood trickled down his wrist onto a hand that had become almost useless, until the skin knitted with unnatural speed and the would healed even more rapidly than Michael's had. By the time he actually let go of the child's arm his hand was working again, but the stickiness on his forearm was not even dry. He smiled at Michael warmly and slowly stood up to find that he had an audience. He rubbed his arm unconsciously as it ached slightly, and tried to ignore that he was the centre of attention. Charles, Mrs Rosa and Emile were all stood just beyond the shade of the tree, and the housekeeper was looking at him in awe. There was a shocked belief in the Bishop's eyes, but as Mrs Rosa crossed herself, Philip decided it was time to leave. "I'm going home," the young man said quietly, "please don't tell anyone about this." He walked back to the house, leaving Charles to deal with his household. Philip knew that the older man would not let this get out of hand, and his presence would not help matters. End of Part 8 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 9 Nobody wanted to seem as if they were prying so they didn't ask questions when Philip returned. When it became obvious that several members of the household were dying of curiosity, however, and the young man had recovered from the strain he explained everything. Things seemed to slip into a routine then. Derek still seemed to be avoiding Philip except the next day to give him some translating to do, but then the precept appeared to be avoiding everybody except Rachel. Rachel and Kat returned home on the Monday and life continued. There were many long distance phone calls as Philip called his family and tried to explain. Everyone went back to tasks that had been waiting ever since the case that had nearly killed Nick had begun, and the house got on with existence. They had no pressing engagements and it actually seemed to be peaceful ... for a while. Tuesday night, Nick woke sharply from a dream that vanished the moment he opened his eyes. It left him with his heart racing, and a cold sweat all over his body. He reached for the light switch automatically, and as the soft illumination filled the room he began to feel a little foolish. The main emotion he had felt was fear, but as with most mortal men, his anxiety vanished with the magic of electricity. It didn't, however, change the fact that he was now wide awake and his body quite plainly told him it was not ready to go back to sleep just yet. The ex-SEAL looked around his room aimlessly, to see if there was anything that might occupy his mind for the twenty minutes or so it would take to convince his flesh that sleep was the best idea. He remembered with a scowl that he'd left the book Alex had lent him to read, in the library. With a resigned sigh he pushed the bedclothes back to reveal his lightly glistening torso. Looking down he decided that a shower might not be a bad idea either. Padding down the hall ten minutes later, clean but no more ready to sleep than before, he noted that Philip's door was open. He peered in casually on his way past and saw that the bedside light on, and the bedclothes appeared to be in quite a state. There was, however, no sign of his friend. When he reached the library, the location of the young man became obvious as Nick found the ex-priest pouring over a book on one of the upper tables. The researcher was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't even register that someone was standing behind him for a good minute or so. "What's up?" the ex-SEAL finally asked and Philip jumped out of his skin. "Did you have to do that?" the other man said when his heart finally left his throat. Nick was grinning when he turned to look at him. "Sorry," he said without the slightest sound of remorse in his voice. "What ya doing?" "Looking for a symbol," his companion replied evenly, "I know I've seen it before, but I can't remember where from." He held the drawing of a peculiar sigil that he'd created in marker pen on a note pad. It meant nothing to the ex-SEAL, but for some reason he shivered. Nick put it down to his wet hair. "Are you sure it's in the books?" the short haired man enquired calmly. "Could it be in the computer records?" "Could what be in the computer records?" they were interrupted by Alex's voice. The two men looked over the balcony to see their female friend standing there about as suitably dressed as they were. Philip held up his rendition of the design and showed it to her. The look on the woman's face said that she recognised it. "You saw it in a vision, didn't you?" she said slowly, and then headed for the spiral stairs. "Yes," the ex-priest replied rapidly, "why, did you as well?" "You bet I did," was Alex's reply, "damn near had a heart attack as well." The memory of the way his heart had been pounding flashed into Nick's head, but he kept his mouth shut. "What else did you see?" Philip's question caught everyone's attention. The other psychic looked uncomfortable, but it didn't stop her revealing what she had seen. "This house in flames," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. The vision had really shaken her and Philip patted her hand gently. "Did you see that as well?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. "No," the reply was such a relief, Alex couldn't bare the thought of what she had seen being the whole truth. "I saw an altar split in two. This symbol was on the cloth that covered it and was ripping down the middle. I can't be sure, but I think the altar was in this house." Visions could be misleading things and there was no certainty that they would come to pass, but these did not bode well at all. There were two piles of books on the table, ones that Philip had looked through, and ones he had not, his companions picked up some of the unopened volumes. When they'd exhausted the books they went to the computer room, but still they didn't find the symbol. They were all so busy that they never noticed Derek watching them from the dark hall. They went to bed at about four in the morning, without finding what they were looking for. Falling asleep on a keyboard did nobody any good, and they agreed to start again in the morning. ===================================================================== At breakfast Philip explained everything to Jasmine, who seemed very surprised not to have noticed anything. She was most eager to help and they'd just decided that she and Alex would have another go at the computers, whilst Philip and Nick went back to the library. That's when the foursome's plans went south. For a change, Derek actually joined them for the morning meal, and he brought a new case with him. "I've just had a call from a friend at the university," he said calmly as he sat down. "It seems that they are having some kind of disturbances, and the security guards have found what appears to be the remains of a black mass. I told Professor Flint that I send someone over to take a look." He glanced at Philip and Nick and smiled. "Philip," he said calmly, "I want you to investigate the circle they've found, see if you can figure out what was going on. Nick you find out exactly what these disturbances are, and if you can find a rational explanation. The Professor is expecting you at about ten." There was no arguing with that, their precept seemed very sure about what was going to happen. That was not, however, going to stop the group from telling him what they had found. Philip opened the pad he had been showing to Jasmine earlier, and handed it to Derek. "Mean anything to you?" he enquired bluntly. The older man glanced at the paper, and almost offhandedly gave it back. "No," was the calm reply, "what is it's significance?" "Philip and I saw it in visions," Alex said eagerly. "We also saw destruction of some kind. I witnessed this house burning to the ground." "I saw an altar being torn in two," the ex-priest finished for her, "an altar that was in this house." Derek looked at them both with his even, penetrating gaze. For a few moments he said nothing, as if weighing his options in his mind. "We can't find this symbol anywhere in the library, and the computers haven't given us a match," were Philip's next words. "We believe that if we find it, we'll at least have a clue as to what our visions were about." There was definitely something going on in Derek's head, as a few more minutes silence past, but eventually he spoke. "Interesting," he commented slowly, "Alex can continue to research this whilst you and Nick are at the University." And that was it. The way he looked towards his food, and changed the subject, the others realised, that for whatever reasons, the matter was closed. Sometimes it was very hard to fathom their precept's mind. ===================================================================== As it turned out, when the two Legacy members reached the University campus, Philip had quite a walk on his hands. The faculty owned a small piece of park land quite a way from the main buildings, and on enquiring with a security guard they discovered that this property contained the alleged site of the black mass. "See you later," Nick said with a very unhelpful smile, and watched his friend head off in the right direction. It was a beautiful day, and it was going to be a long, hot walk. The ex-priest was very glad he had selected a T-shirt this morning. As Philip wandered around the side of a building, Nick decided it was time to go and find Professor Flint, and he began to walk towards one of the main offices. It was definitely one of the older buildings, and could seem a bit like a rabbit warren to a stranger, but the ex- SEAL had been here before. The Legacy had an extensive lab, but just occasionally they needed specialists and equipment, and the university had it. He'd never met this particular Professor before: lab technicians were the people he usually spoke to, but Nick had never been the shy type. It didn't take him long to find the office number written on the small piece of paper in his hand, and he knocked firmly. "Come in," what surprised Nick about the voice was the fact that it was female and sounded young. The Legacy operative knew for a fact that Professor Flint was a Samuel, and he was well over sixty. Never the less, on the answer, the young man followed the instructions. "Good morning," there was a young woman behind the desk with the morning sun streaming through her red hair, "can I help you?" Nick tried not to stare, but he couldn't really help it: he had a thing for beautiful red heads. Covering his momentary slip he smiled the most killer smile he could muster. "Ah, hi," he said evenly, "I was looking for Professor Flint, is he around?" "I'm afraid that the Professor was called away a short time ago," the young woman said efficiently, "maybe I could help. If you give me your name, and tell me why you're here, I might be able to solve your problem." Now this amused Nick somewhat. "I think it might be you, who has the problem," he said cheerfully. "I'm from the Luna Foundation, we were asked to come and observe some disturbances that we were told are going on." The young woman's whole demeanour changed at his words, and she went from distantly polite, to recognition. "Oh," she said brightly, "yes, the Professor said you were coming. Somehow I was expecting someone ... someone." "More studious?" Nick offered helpfully, well he didn't exactly look the part of philanthropic researcher. She smiled. "Ah, yes," she agreed, coming round the side of the desk. "I'm Holland, Professor Flint's grad assistant. He asked me to show you around. He was summoned by those on high, who want to know why our research section is closed to everybody today." She stuck out her hand in greeting, and Nick shook it in a very gentlemanly fashion. Looking into Holland's deep green eyes he had the strangest feeling that she wasn't quite looking at his face. It was almost like the feeling he sometimes had when trying to stare Derek down, but he shook himself and told his mind that he'd been hanging around psychics too long. "Nick Boyle," he offered as he ignored the thoughts. "He's this way?" the young woman said, and swept towards the door. It took a few seconds for the ex-SEAL's brain to click in, but the moment it did he followed her closely. "I thought you said the Professor wasn't here?" he said in idle conversation as they walked. "He's not," Holland returned, looking a little puzzled. "Then who's `he'?" Nick enquired calmly. She grinned at that question and led him round a corner. "The entity," she told him calmly, "our disturbances. He seems to have taken a liking to one of the study rooms, and he's throwing books around." Now this was not what Nick had expected at all. Nobody had said anything about an `entity'. The young man had been expecting maybe a few moved coffee mugs, the odd dizzy computer, but an actual thing was a bit of a shock. "You have some sort of creature in this building?" he asked sceptically. "Yes," what was really strange was the fact that Holland didn't seem phased by this at all, in fact she seemed to be enjoying herself. "He seems to be looking for something and he gets annoyed when he doesn't find it. He threw a security guard across the room when he tried to get in his way, but as long as no one goes near him he seems quite happy with the books." The main question on Nick's mind, was why no one had told him this. It seemed to be quite a vital piece of information and it wasn't the sort of thing someone would just forget to mention. He was beginning to think that either Philip would have been better qualified to carry out this end of the investigation, or someone was having a joke on the Luna Foundation. It took about two seconds for the ex-SEAL to decide that this was no hoax, after they walked up a small flight of stair into a big, open study area. It was approximately six feet tall, and when he first saw it, the entity resembled a pillar of light with shooting beams of radiance where limbs would have been. As Nick watched it resolved into an almost stylised figure of a man, with black lines for features and definition. It was like looking at a thirties abstract of a person, and it faded back into the mass of light before reforming once more. "Isn't he incredible," Holland whispered as the pair just stood there. On the wall to one side there was a white board, and on it was one word, in very large letters. It said "Guardian", in the most peculiar handwriting. "What's that?" Nick enquired in a hushed voice. "I asked him who he was," the redhead replied calmly, "just before he threw the guard across the room. He wrote that on the board. Well technically the pen wrote it all by itself, but I think we can assume that he had something to do with it." Her companion was not about to dispute that, and they slowly began to edge around the side of the room to get a better view. The entity seemed to either be unaware that they were there, or didn't care. Guardian was ignoring them. It was just standing there, in the centre of the room, the only movement the fading in and out of focus. Quite suddenly the most unpleasant sensation ran down Nick's spine and the entity moved. It turned and the ex-SEAL found himself fixed by two black slits that passed as eyes. He was pinned by that gaze, riveted to the spot, totally unable to move. His heart beat seemed to grow very load in his ears, and those dark gashes wanted to swallow him. He heard Holland gasp, but it was like a distant sound, not at all close to him. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed what had made the young woman gasp. The board pen was on the move again, and he felt himself being forced to turn and look. It seemed as if it was taking hours, as the pen slowly traced out the letters. First there was a `Y', and then an `o' as a word began to form. It could only have been seconds, but the entity's influence appeared to distort time, and Nick was beginning to think he shouldn't be here. The pen fell away and left the phrase "You Know", behind it. The ex-SEAL found his eyes dragged back to Guardian, and he suddenly knew what a fly felt like in a web, with the spider bearing down. "Nick, what's going on?" Holland's voice seemed so far away. He couldn't speak, he was totally paralysed by those slits. The young man felt very small and very helpless, but he had never been a quitter. With his fear came adrenaline, and it flooded his system, giving him something to fight with. As he tried to break free he managed to move about a foot before Guardian became very annoyed. A wind started up from no where, and Nick heard Holland yelp as a book flew off a shelf and landed next to her. "We should be going," she said urgently, but her companion could no more oblige her than he could get out of the way of the entity as it began to move. With the speed of a pouncing eagle it lanced straight towards him, and the strangest thing happened, it disappeared. Dozens of books fell off the shelves at exactly the same time, and then everything seemed to have stopped. There was no wind, no glowing pillar of light, and Guardian appeared to be gone. "Wow," Holland said with a sigh of relief, "that was hairy." Strangely, Nick didn't move or reply, but the young woman assumed he was trying as hard as she was to work out what had just happened. "Well it seems to be over for now," she continued slowly, "maybe we should go and tell the Professor." Still no answer from her companion, so she wandered closer. "Are you okay?" Holland enquired slightly anxiously, and put her hand on his shoulder. When he finally turned, the young woman was in for a very great shock. She looked into two pools of complete blackness as she gazed into his eyes. "He has seen it," as Nick's mouth opened, bright light shone forth. "You must help me find it, daughter." The young woman had no idea what to do. End of Part 9 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 10 The first thing Philip felt as he walked towards the area the police had cordoned off, was a deep sense of peace. It didn't take him more than a few moments to decide that whatever had happened here, it hadn't seen it very often. Only as he walked towards the yellow tape did he begin to feel that all was not well. It was strange though, the overriding emotion that jumped unbidden into his head was anger, tinged with just a touch of fear. The young man stopped outside the police line for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts and stop the torrent of feelings that were coming at him from every direction. It was quite incredible: there was so much energy in the area, and it was definitely disturbed. Banishing the more severe emotions to the back of his mind, he stepped quickly under the plastic barrier and into what appeared to be some sort of worship place. It was clear why the police had taped off the area: there was blood over a large part of the ground, and that sort of thing tended to make the law jumpy. The lack of any officers spoke of the fact that the city's police department had soon discovered that the liquid was of animal origin. Philip stepped round the mess gingerly and went towards something that caught his eye. On one of the large trees that surrounded the clearing there was a symbol burned into the bark, and it was immediately of interest to the researcher. Kneeling down the ex-priest put his hand out towards the design. It was round in basic form, but there were the most complex patterns within the outer circle. Philip realised that he had been wrong in thinking that it was burned into the bark, it was better described as being a natural marking of the wood. It was much darker than the overall colour, but there was no damage to the tree. As his fingers brushed the surface of the plant a jolt ran up his arm, and he jerked back in surprise. It was like touching a live circuit, and his hand still tingled even after the contact was broken. There was distinct power here and it was severely out of phase. Caution being the better part of valour, the Legacy member decided that touching it again was a bad idea and stood up instead. With a calm eye he took in the rest of the clearing. He noted the small flat stone at the exact centre of the area and the objects on it. The fact that all the blood had come from one direction was obvious, and that it had touched just about everything in the circle was clear. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see that each tree had a slightly different symbols on them as they stood on their respective point of the compass. Philip traced the trails of dull brown back to their source of origin and stored the fact that whoever had thrown the blood had been standing next to the southern most oak. With an even, determined stride, the young man walked towards this tree, and without even thinking, grabbed straight for the handle of a hatchet which had been plunged into the centre of it's symbol. The same feeling of power ran into his hand, running up his entire arm this time, but it didn't stop him from pulling the axe free. The change in the atmosphere of the clearing was totally amazing and instantaneous. Suddenly there was the most incredible feeling of relief, and Philip couldn't help shake the instinct that he was not alone. It was if there were eyes boring into the middle of his back, and very slowly he had to turn around. It was about five and a half feet tall and it glowed blue. The figure was well defined in the shape of a human woman, but the being had no face. Where the features should have been was blank space, except for the eyes that were wide, white pools. She had her head turned on one side, and was looking directly at Philip. This figure was alien, but inescapably beautiful with it's radiance and the young researcher did not try to move as she glided towards him. One hand reached out slowly and wound it's long fingers around the rest of the hatchet handle. Energy radiated from the hand as it almost touched Philip's, but the feeling faded as he released the tool into his companion's keeping. The entity looked at the device she now held, as if confounded by it, and then, quite suddenly the hatchet just disintegrated. One second it was whole and the next it fell to the ground in tiny pieces. Philip's heart was racing madly and his instincts cried out in fear, but at a very fundamental level he knew that this creature was not his enemy. His mind screamed for him to flinch away as she reached out a second time, but he held his ground and the blue fingers brushed his hand. He could feel the power in that limb, but he also recognised that it was a very finely controlled energy. He was in no danger, at that moment he was totally sure. She took his fingers and placed them on the tree, never once breaking the eye contact they had made even as the sunglasses Philip was wearing seemed to make no difference. Then she drew back and her overwhelming presence dimmed from his mind. He was confused at first and then he felt it, under his hand there was pain. He couldn't help himself, and almost immediately he turned to look at the plant from which the agony originated. This was no ordinary tree, this part of God's creation was alive, it was aware. The young man's eyes were drawn to the large gash that the hatchet had left and he knew from whence the pain originated. He was no more able to control his reaction to this than he had been with Michael and he knelt down beside the injured creature. There was no flow of energy as his hand covered the split symbol and all he felt was the disruption and terrible hurt this was causing. Now this living thing could not be more dissimilar to human kind, but it didn't make any difference, Philip had to help it. His heart reached out before his mind was anywhere near decided on what to do, and his senses moved into the tangled lines of force that surrounded the wound. Like an engineer understanding the complicated wires of a circuit he began to reconnect the flows of energy with all the care of a father cleaning a graze on the knee of his child. With each connection the pain seemed to flow away, and as the last piece slipped into the puzzle he came back to himself with a start. The power flowed up his arm again and filled him with an energy that he could not trace. It was difficult to remove his hand, but as he did he realised that the symbol was whole, and he was once again alone. ===================================================================== Holland was afraid as she stared into those deep black orbs. She had known fear before, but this was at a much more fundamental level and she would have run if she could. She had thought she knew what the entity was, but this show of it's abilities undid several of her basic assumptions. "Help me, daughter," the creature spoke for a second time. The young woman had no idea how long she had been standing there looking into it's eyes, but she had a distinct feeling that her soul had just been searched. For all she knew, she had been standing there for hours. "Don't hurt him, please," she said in a very quiet voice. It was the only thing that would come into her mind as she tried not to shake. The expression which looked back at her did not seem to quite understand what she meant. She was captivated by the gaze and she felt herself losing grip on reality again. Then, suddenly it was gone: the influence on her mind was released and she was looking at a peculiar version of Nick. The ex-SEAL had his head turned to one side as if listening to something, and he did not seem to be at all interested in her anymore. Moving would bring the possibility of a renewal of interest, but she really felt she had to get out of it's way. Very slowly she began to edge backwards, towards the door. The entity in Nick's body remained totally motionless, and Holland was beginning to think she was getting away with this. Then there was a blue light coming from behind her, and she knew that something else had arrived. She spun on the spot, saw the female figure, built up the panic just enough to scream, and then all the emotion flowed out of her. In a moment she was calm, and even as the newcomer walked past her she smiled. The female being reached out towards Nick and the black, empty eyes turned towards her. There was no sound, and they just stood there for a moment, frozen, but not even a normal human could have failed to notice that there was some form of communication going on. Holland found that she was in no hurry to do anything, but when there was a loud thump and a groan behind her she did turn round. The ex-SEAL was lying on the ground, and he was alone. "Oh Jesus, my head hurts," were the first words out of his mouth. "What the hell was that thing," were the second. "I'm not so sure," Holland said quietly and slowly walked over to help him up. "Did you see the other one, or were you ... out of it?" Nick looked askance. "Another one?" he said incredulously. "When? The last thing I remember is trying to stare down the first one. What the hell happened?" "Guardian possessed you," his companion provided calmly, "and you kept asking me to help you find `it', whatever it may be. Then something distracted you, I mean the entity, before this female one turned up." A smile appeared on Holland's face, even as she thought about the captivating creature. "She was so beautiful, Nick," the young woman provided happily, "and just looking at her I knew she wouldn't hurt us. She went past me, and then I heard you fall over and then I turned around. I lost at least a quarter of an hour," she continued looking at her watch, "and you must have been gone for a little more." This was turning into a really bizarre fortnight for Nick: first nearly dying, then being healed, then being possessed. He was beginning to wonder if it could get any better. Philip was probably going to think this was incredibly interesting. That thought stopped him as his mind settled on the his friend and jumped to nasty conclusions. "Oh God," he said quickly, climbing to his feet as fast as his spinning head would allow, "My colleague's at the circle, what if that's where this thing went." "There's two of you?" Holland said loudly. "It might be wise to go and find your friend." They hurried out of the door, but the young woman seemed to be anxious for an entirely different reason than her companion. ===================================================================== What the found as they rushed through the short stretch of trees was a very much more serene scene then that which Nick had expected. Philip was standing in the centre of the circle with his eyes closed, as if he was listening for something. The moment Holland stepped on a dead twig his expression completely changed and he turned towards them. As soon as he realised that it was Nick he smiled and walked over. "Holland, this is Philip Callahan," the ex-SEAL introduced as his friend came to a halt, "Philip, this is Holland, Professor Flint's assistant." "Pleased to meet you," the second Legacy operative said automatically. "Ah, hi," the young woman seemed to be staring at him in the most peculiar fashion. Philip brushed this off, however, as he noticed the fact that his friend seemed to be very pale, and not exactly comfortable with his surroundings. The panic over, Nick was leaning against an available tree, rubbing his temples. "Are you feeling all right?" the ex-priest enquired with his usual concerned manner. "Nothing a head amputation wouldn't fix," his friend replied sarcastically. "He was possessed," Holland supplied helpfully, which earned her a `why did you have to say that' look from Nick. That wasn't exactly how the ex-SEAL would have put it, and he didn't exactly want to have to explain everything here. Philip was obviously building up to ask why, so Nick put his oar in first. "The `disturbances' turned out to be a lot more real than what we usually get," he provided evenly, "there was actually an entity in one of the study rooms. Guardian seemed to take a dislike to me. What did you get from the circle?" The young man really did look uncomfortable, so his companion decided to answer the question before asking more of his own. "Well it wasn't a black mass," he said calmly, looking from Nick to Holland and back again, "I'd say it was a fertility ceremony, probably for those saplings we all passed on the way up. Someone decided to desecrate it, and that's what all the blood was about. There was also a hatchet buried in one of the trees, right across its name sigil." "So, did you see anything interesting?" Nick was obviously trying to push attention away from the incident in which he had been involved. "Only if you call a naked woman who glows blue, and doesn't have a face, interesting," Philip replied amenably. At this information, Holland pricked up her ears. "You saw her too?" the young woman enquired, quite excited by the fact. The ex-priest nodded and pointed to the spot in front of the south most tree. "She appeared when I took the hatchet out if the tree," he explained calmly, "and disappeared soon after." The young man saw something like understanding cross Holland's face, but she covered it quickly. If Nick hadn't been suffering quite so much he'd have realised that there was more to this young lady than met the eye, but he was more concerned with the throbbing of his head. As Holland wandered into the circle towards the correct oak, Philip reached out to his friend and wiped away his headache. The ex- SEAL looked more than a little surprised, but he was not about to complain. "There's something strange about your friend," the ex-priest whispered calmly, "she knows more than she's saying." "Are you sure?" Nick enquired in a voice just as low as his companion's. He had so far seen nothing to indicate that Holland was any more than the student she professed to be. The fact that he thought she was the most gorgeous creature he'd seen in quite a while didn't help his judgement. This fact had not escaped Philip, since even when his head felt like a hammer drill, Nick had managed to size up Holland's legs quite sufficiently. The young man smiled at his companion's reaction. "I don't think it's sinister," Philip said as he grinned, "but keep in mind that this area must have a coven of witches to maintain this circle. You might have been talking to one of them." "So you think that she knows what happened here last night?" there were times when it would be foolish to ignore a colleague's judgement, and Nick realised, now was one of them. As if to confirm their suspicions there was a surprised little sound from Holland's direction. "What happened to the tree?" she asked before her thoughts caught up with her instincts. She stood from where she had crouched down and turned to both men. "How was the tree healed?" she almost demanded, her need to know out weighing the charade she had been maintaining. Neither Legacy member felt like playing the game and she glared at them both. The way she looked at them told the pair that she was not quite what she seemed, and for the second time that day, Nick had the feeling she was not actually viewing their faces. "It was you," she said suddenly, her green eyes trying to see behind Philip's dark glasses. "You healed it." "And how do you know I did anything?" the young man returned calmly. Now she looked unsure, she obviously did not fully trust these two men. That was easy to understand, especially if she had been at the ceremony the previous night. "You're one of the group who conduct ceremonies here, aren't you," Philip continued. "You already know what happened here last night, don't you." "I asked first," was her only reply. That caused the two men to look at each other, and Nick smiled, she had a point. He gave Philip, an it's up to you expression. "Okay," he said eventually, "I healed the tree when the spirit asked me to." "How?" Holland couldn't contain herself. "Ah, ah," the ex-priest responded with his gentle Irish lilt, "your turn. How could you be sure I did it?" The woman's eyes narrowed, but she wanted information as much as the Legacy operatives, so what could she do. "It's in your aura," she told him slowly, "I saw that is was strange the moment I met you, but I didn't realise why until just now." Philip looked suitably impressed, and saw her waiting for the next piece of information. "I'm not sure how I healed it," he explained with a shrug, "I just did what felt right." "He's like that," Nick added helpfully, "vague." The other two gave him a sideways look. "What happened here last night?" Philip dragged the subject back to the point of the conversation. Holland looked very awkward at the enquiry, she was obviously not comfortable with the turn of the conversation. They knew that she was part of this place, but she was unwilling to reveal any more. "I can't tell you," she said slowly, a slight trace of regret in her voice. She obviously wanted to know more about her two companions, but she was stuck for any more information to give them in return. "I don't suppose you'd care to explain why the Luna Foundation has healers on their staff. Not exactly what I'd been lead to expect by the Professor." The expression on their faces said that her assumptions were right. "Suffice to say that you're right about what was going on here as far as you know," the young woman continued evenly. "What went on afterwards is not mine to tell you. I don't know why the Professor decided to involve an outside organisation, but the truth of the matter is that it doesn't really concern you. I thought I knew what was happening here, but I'm not so sure anymore. It would probably be safer for everyone concerned if you just went home." With that she breezed out of the circle in a different direction to that from which she had entered, and left the Legacy team alone. "Let's go tell the Lord and Master what we've found," Nick suggested as they watched her go. "Good idea," was all Philip replied. End of Part 10 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 11 The conversation in the car was not what could exactly be called animated. The pair of operatives discussed exactly what had happened, but neither seemed particularly interested in the discourse and it was limited to facts. Out of the two it was Philip who seemed most distracted: something was bothering him and yet he chose not to mention it to Nick. The ex-SEAL had seen that particular look in his friend's face before and he did not try and drag the information out of him. Even Jas could only raise a half smile from the young man as she descended on the pair when they came through the door. "Have fun?" she enquired brightly and slipped her hand through Philip's arm. "Oh, you could say that," it was Nick who replied, "if you call possession fun ... should be in all the to-do books." The young-looking woman wasn't quite sure she'd heard right, and neither was Alex who had also emerged into the hallway. "You did say possession, didn't you?" she said slowly. "Who? By what?" The researcher's brain never did seem to work in ones, her questions always came out in groups of two or more. Nick's face took on the awkward look again, but he wasn't quite so embarrassed about it anymore. Philip had pointed out to him several times, that it could have been any of them. "Me," the ex-SEAL returned with frown, "and by an entity that no one chose to tell us about before we got there. He was a little hard to miss, over six feet tall ... glowed quite a bit." It wasn't just Alex that looked surprised. <> Jasmine's urgent thought went straight to Philip. <> the ex-priest sent back, managing to pull his mind away from his contemplation to reassure her, <> "And have you had an entertaining morning?" Nick was speaking to Alex, unaware that there was another conversation going on in the room. "There's nothing anywhere about our symbol," the dark haired researcher responded evenly, "but Rachel came in late today ... seems Kat had a nightmare last night and she didn't get her off to school on time." Nick looked intrigued, but for some reason, Philip just appeared annoyed. "Where's Derek?" he asked pointedly. "In his study," Alex provided, noticing his mood, "but someone's with him. He had a visitor soon after you two left. What's bothering you Philip?" The exasperated expression that was on the young man's face was more normally seen on Nick's, and the fact that the calm, healer was not happy spoke volumes. "Everyone connected to this house who has the Sight, sees a vision," the annoyed individual replied, "and something even gets through to Nick," the ex-SEAL looked surprised that Philip had come to that conclusion, but didn't argue, "and we're supposed to believe that our Precept didn't share it. Somehow it doesn't quite add up." When someone actually came out and said it, it was a little hard not to agree. The look in Alex's eyes said that it had also occurred to her, and Nick had taken to assuming that Derek wasn't quite telling all, most of the time. What neither of them had done, was take the next step in this case, which Philip chose not to voice. The young healer was almost positive that he was the reason the Precept was not talking this time. He was beginning to think that maybe Derek's reluctance to talk to him alone, for any great amount of time was very much to do with what they had all seen in their vision. He also couldn't shake the feeling that the problems at the University weren't entirely unconnected. "Okay," Nick chose to speak as the four fell into a silence, "say you're right, what do we do about it?" "I'm going to talk to him," Philip said quite firmly, "and if that doesn't work I'll call in the cavalry." This attitude was quite unlike the outlook everyone had come to expect from the young man, but there was something about his demeanour that said `don't argue'. Even Nick understood this one, and no one tried to stop him as the ex-priest walked across the hall. It was only as he disappeared through a doorway that Alex suddenly remember that Derek was not alone. "The visitor," she said quickly and went to follow her friend. "He knows," Jas put her hand on Alex's arm and gave a rueful smile. "I think the Precept maybe about to hear a piece of Philip's mind, and there's nothing that's going to stop him." "Where's the nuclear bunker?" Nick asked as they all looked at the empty space where their comrade had been. All three looked at each other: so this was what happened when Philip got to the end of his tether. ===================================================================== Since Derek had a visitor, the doors weren't on automatic, but Philip made damn sure his Precept knew he was there. It was difficult to ignore someone hovering behind only semi-opaque glass. Eventually the head of the house had to admit his younger colleague, and the look on the ex-priest's face said everything that needed to be said. Yet with infuriating calm Derek did not allow the intrusion to phase him, he even smiled as his guest turned to see who had just entered. "Philip," he greeted evenly, "is it something that can't wait?" "You could say that," the other replied tersely. Quite to the young man's surprise the Precept did not try and brush him off at all, in fact he introduced him to the woman in the chair. She was in her mid fifties if the slight grey in her hair was anything to go by, and the lines on her face that spoke of very animated features. "This is Rhyanna," Derek introduced calmly, "Rhyanna, this is Philip Callahan, one of my people. Rhyanna's from the university." That caught the ex-priest off guard, that was one thing he hadn't expected. The plot was thickening rapidly, and as he looked at the middle aged woman he noticed a familiar look on her face. Philip hadn't bothered to take his shades off yet, they reacted to the light levels so seeing wasn't a problem, and he'd noticed that several people outside the Legacy had seemed uncomfortable under his gaze. Now, however, he did not hesitate to reach up and pull them off. Somehow it seemed the only respectful thing to do, and now that he really looked at her, he was profoundly aware that she deserved it. He would never be able to explain why, but all his annoyance trickled away, and he knew without a doubt that she'd had exactly the same effect on Derek. There was something all too familiar about the sensation. "You're from the coven," the young man said with complete certainty. Rhyanna smiled at that. "And it is you I have to thank for restoring the circle," she responded calmly. "I did not think that our first problem would be overcome so easily. Holland's report was somewhat mixed on the phone, but then she does not know about the Legacy." Well it wasn't as if all the cards weren't being placed quite clearly on the table now. "I must say that I was surprised to hear of what the Guardian did," was her last comment. "Nature out of balance does strange things," Philip just reacted to her words. "But that's not the real problem, is it? You need to know who tried to desecrate the ritual in the first place." "That's why Rhyanna and her husband Samuel Flint came to us," Derek was in an open mood, "they cannot locate the perpetrator. Whoever's doing this is covered by Black magic, and they need our help to find them. I didn't tell you what to expect at the University because I wanted an unbiased opinion from you and Nick. I didn't want any assumptions based on what you had been told." It was then that the man-in-question's head appeared around the door - they hadn't been able to resist, the others in the Legacy team had followed. They'd even gained Rachel on the way. "Come in," Derek said calmly, "it's time I explained a few things." Alex was doing a great impression of looking innocent; Jas slipped in next to Philip; Nick perched next to the sideboard; and Rachel wandered beside the desk. They were glad that they were finally going to get some answers, but they were a little guilty about seeming to have forced it. Their precept introduced them all, and they all said hello to the strange woman who just smiled back. There was an air about her that said problems rolled off her like water from a duck's back, and even through the seriousness of the situation she could offer placid thought. "I suppose I should explain myself first," Rhyanna said gently as the pleasantries finished. Derek indicated that he was quite happy with this so she continued. "I was once a member of the Legacy," she told them with a wistful smile, "when I was little more than a girl. My family had connections in Canada, and I joined after my father died in an accident. I came to San Francisco shortly after that and became part of this house. Then I met Samuel Flint on an expedition in Europe, we found this." She tapped a small box which sat on Derek's desk. It was the Precept's turn to take up the story. "Sam brought it back to the University," the tall man explained evenly, "much to this house's displeasure. The coven at that sight had been there for many years, and you could say that the Legacy and the witches tolerated each other, co-operating when they had to." Rhyanna grinned at that, there was obviously a tale to tell there. "My husband was not exactly a staunch supporter of what you do," she said cheerfully, "until he came across something he could not handle." "With the box came a Guardian spirit," Derek continued calmly, "a somewhat angry Guardian spirit. When the coven tried to make contact with it, the entity reacted rather violently." "Except to me," Rhyanna added lightly. "It did not seem to think I was a threat. The coven had to except the help of the Legacy. When I went to liaise with them it never crossed my mind that I would not be coming back. The Guardian has two aspects, one we can equate to male, the other to female, it was the calmer female side which would speak to me. We do not know what is in this box, but the Guardian does not want it removed. It needed a place to be safe and we took it to the circle." She smiled at her next thought, and Nick could have sworn that her cheeks coloured slightly. "There was a bonding ritual," she continued gently, "you could say that was where I truly got to know my husband. The Guardian took to the trees, combined with the power that was already there, and the box was placed in a safe place on campus. There was really no question of my returning, I was part of the coven after that, and our charge became the talisman, whatever it may be. The desecration somehow split the Guardian into it's two elements and it must have been looking for the box. We really didn't expect it to do anything except throw a few things around, it has never tried to hurt anyone before." The colourful woman looked at the object on the table, contemplatively. It was only then that a frown clouded her features for a split second. "Someone tried to steal this after the desecration," she said slowly, "someone we cannot identify. I had moved it from it's normal resting place last night for a reason I could not fathom until the ritual was disturbed. I have brought it here so that is may be kept safe." There was silence as she finished. The information had answered a great many questions and they let it sink in. If there was one thing that could be said of life in a Legacy house, it was that is was never boring. The revelations had cancelled thoughts of the various visions that had been experienced by the members from most minds, all except Philip's, and as he looked at Derek, he realised his precept's as well. The way the older man's eyes flicked onto the box and away again said that he was not happy about it, but he was also not about to send it back where it might be stolen. The party moved into discussions of the case in hand and the two men remained silent about their anxieties. ===================================================================== When Rhyanna finally left, only Philip followed Derek back to his office. The others left them to it. "Something wicked this way comes," the ex-priest said quietly as the door closed and they both looked at the box. The precept did not reply, he just sat down. "You thought I was that something, didn't you," Philip continued, all his previous anger gone. "What changed your mind." It was obvious that the alteration had taken place, Derek had been reacting to him in an entirely different way since he'd returned. "The circle," the older man replied calmly. "Healing Nick, the things you have done since you returned, all that could have been a cover for something darker, but not at that circle." "It was a test then," his companion said slowly, taking the chair Rhyanna had used, "and I passed." He sounded almost relieved, as if a large burden had been removed from his shoulders. He looked into his friend's eyes and he realised he was about to get an explanation. "I knew the moment I saw you that your actions would show your loyalty. It was not just a phrase I chose to use, I knew it would be true," Derek said evenly, "but I didn't know which direction you followed. I've been feeling something growing for weeks, something very bad, and when you stepped back into this house there was no doubt you were connected. I wanted to believe that you were true to us, but I had to be sure." They just sat there in silence after that and finally Philip half smiled. "You're forgiven," he said and they both knew that there was a lot of the old person in the new one. End of Part 11 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 12 The artefact was put in the computer room so that Alex could take a look at it with modern equipment, but since they'd promised not to interfere with it there was little that could be done. They were only custodians for now, and the box would not give up it's secrets unless it so chose. The team spent the rest of the day trying to find out all they could about the object and it's history. By the evening they all knew everything there was to know, but no one was any closer to finding a connection with the foreboding in the house. If anything the air around the dining table that evening was lighter than usual. Kat had been dropped off after school and she, Derek and Rachel were laughing and talking as if they were the perfect family unit. The mood was continued around the rest of the room where the other four were involved in a lively debate about times long past. It might have been the fact that Derek had finally relaxed around Philip, or it might have been something else, but no one chose to question it. The next day, Philip drew the researching straw whilst Alex and Nick went back to the university to see if they could uncover who was behind the dark works. This time both operatives headed for Professor Flint's office. "Come in, come in," the older man invited warmly as soon as they put their heads around the door, "you're a little earlier than I expected, but you're most welcome. I asked the members of the coven who were at the ceremony to meet us at the circle in about an hour. I thought a reconstruction might be useful." All the information was thrown at them at once, but Alex just took it in stride. She had the feeling that even though his wife had been one, Legacy people made Samuel nervous. "Thank you very much, Professor," she said brightly, "it would probably be a great help. Alex Moreau." The two shook hands quickly and then Nick introduced himself as well: so far so good. The female member of the Legacy team had very firm ideas about what she wanted to do first, and so it was Alex who took charge. "I was wondering if I could see the site of yesterday's events," she said brightly, "I'd be most interested in looking at the writing Nick mentioned." "Of course," the man who insisted that they call him Sam agreed quickly. He seemed pleased that his visitors had a direction in which to work, and he was quite happy to go along with anything. He moved round his desk quickly and offered to escort the pair to the study room. Alex struck up an animated conversation almost immediately, people were one of her fortes. It was as they were headed into the hallway, however, that Nick found himself distracted by the side door to the office opening. He forgot what he had been doing as soon as Holland walked into the office. "Ah, hi," the young man greeted with a winning smile, "things looking brighter this morning?" The woman looked a little awkward, she seemed embarrassed about something and she'd obviously thought the office was empty. "You could say that," she replied slowly and paused. The silence was beginning to grow into a wall. "Look," they both started at the same time, and of course immediately stopped again. Nick grinned and indicated that she should go on. "Um," she began again with a half smile, "I'm sorry for the way I treated you yesterday. I get a bit protective of the coven sometimes, and well ..." "No problem," the ex-SEAL interrupted her smoothly, "I know the feeling." There was a light in his hazel eyes as he smiled at her. "We could make up over dinner," he gave her his most boyish expression. Holland took a moment to realise what he'd just said. The look on her face was vaguely stunned, that was probably the one thing she had not expected. "Did you just invite me on a date?" she asked slowly. Nick looked half embarrassed and half gleeful, it had been a bit of an impulse thing. At least she hadn't turned him down flat, if he played this right it might just work. "Sounded like it to me," he returned and bent his head to one side. "I'm not that repellent am I?" The lopsided grin was contagious and Holland had to smile back, she was quite surprised. "Well you get an A for being forward," she said lightly. She stared at him for a long moment with that odd look in her eyes that said she was not interested in his face. "But then I should have guessed that," she continued calmly. There was nothing like making a man wait, and Nick knew he was wriggling on the hook. The young witch seemed amused, but she wasn't giving out the signs of someone who thought this was a big joke. "Okay," she said finally, "do you know Allen's?" Her companion nodded quickly. "I'll meet you there at seven," she said calmly. Then she picked up the files on the desk, turned and floated back out the way she had entered. Nick, with a huge smile on his face, went to find Alex. ===================================================================== The study area hadn't been touched, everything was just the way it had been the previous day. What exactly the University authorities had been told was unclear, but they were obviously playing along. Alex was avidly examining the writing on the board when Nick walked up behind her and waited for her to finish. The way the young woman had her hands out just in front of the script told the ex-SEAL that she was getting something from it, so he patiently watched as she worked. The professor seemed interested as well and he smiled at Nick as they both stood there. "Fascinating," was all the researcher said as she finally stepped back. "Anything we can use?" were the first words out of the other Legacy member's mouth. By nature the male half of the team was a very practical man. He accepted that his colleagues had abilities he could not quite understand, but he put them up there as tools, just like the gun he carried under his coat. "Nothing we don't already know," Alex returned calmly, "all I get is confusion. What I can't understand is why he thought you knew something. All the signals from this word," she pointed at the letters which spelt Guardian, "are undirected, but these," she indicated the others, "have a definite purpose. He really believed you were the key, but it's as if the information is protected in some way." "But what could you know that would be of relevance to the Guardian?" Sam interjected evenly. "I would have thought it more likely that someone from the university had knowledge that would be useful to the entity." "You just hit the crux of the matter," the researcher admitted slowly, "but somehow, I don't think we're going to find the answer here." She wasn't about to give up just yet, but there didn't seem to be any clues around. Nick began looking at the scattered books to see if there was anything they could tell them. ===================================================================== Back on Angel Island, Philip was having about as much luck as his friends. He'd been going through some old manuscripts that had been vaguely translated when the expedition to find the box had been launched. He was making sure that nothing had been missed, but the previous scholar had done a thorough job. He was nearly at the end of the job, and there was no new information to add to the database. The work had kept him busy, but it seemed that it was basically a waste of time. The young man was a little annoyed about this, and Jas noticed as soon as she walked into the room. "Nothing to go on, I take it," she said as she walked up behind where he was sitting at the main table. "Not even a hint," the Irishman said, sitting back in his chair and catching her hand as she draped it over his shoulder. He blew a frustrated column of air through his hair and stroked her fingers unconsciously. "The old translation may just be notes," he told her slowly, "but it has all the important details. What's really frustrating is I had the strongest feeling that there's something to find." "My poor baby," Jasmine said sweetly, and lent against him, "maybe you should take a break. Something might occur to you if you stop thinking about it." She smiled as he looked up at her through his thick lashes. The young looking woman was suddenly struck by the strong lines of his face, and the intensity in his pale eyes. The half smile that played at his mouth at her suggestion was all consuming, and she found herself caught by an overwhelming desire to kiss him. "You're probably right," he said lightly, and broke the spell, "I've been staring at this too long." Re-diverting the unbidden thoughts that rose in her mind, Jasmine decided that Philip's neck definitely looked tense. Much to his surprise, but growing pleasure the young man felt his companion's fingers find a knotted muscle from where he had been writing. <> he couldn't be bothered to speak, and his thoughts reached her directly. <> was Jas' reply. The gentle pressure of his companion's digits almost made Philip forget where he was. In fact, for a man who was not used to tactile expression of affection in anything but very private circumstances, his total lack of resistance was quite surprising. His head relaxed forward and all the tension flowed out of his shoulders. The knowledge that he was supposed to be working just never entered his head. Slowly he was becoming very aware of Jasmine's scent, a very light perfume and the underlying smell that was uniquely her. She was close behind him and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled where her fingers stroked. Philip was drifting in a very pleasant world indeed, and the thoughts he had running through his head were definitely not work related. Suddenly his musings were interrupted, and the sigil they had all dreamt leapt into his head with almost painful clarity. His eyes shot open from where they had been half closed and he jumped in the chair. A book on the top shelf of one of the side walls leapt off the shelf, and a screwed up piece of scrap paper on the table burst into flames. Jasmine yelped and doused the little fire with a cold cup of coffee Philip had brought with him from breakfast. The ex-priest looked a little stunned. The two people looked at each other slowly. "The book," they both decided at exactly the same time. It didn't take them long to reach the corner where the volume had fallen. It was from one of the more obscure sections of the library, a part which no one had thought to check yet, since there were so many other books that had been more likely to give useful information. It had fallen open to a page with a large heading in beautifully ornate Latin script. "Binding demons," Philip translated slowly. As if he were almost afraid of it, the young man picked up the volume and scanned down the page. Gathering the gist of the writing he turned the leaf and there on the next sheet was an illustration, not unlike the sign from the visions. He read the note underneath it with excited anticipation. "To bring harmony to a tormented soul," he said carefully, "this device may be formed in many ways. Turn the evil from it's destruction and give it a greater purpose to that of the light: from demon to benefactor, and it's power may be harnessed. Yet beware any who break the pact, for there lies chaos." The pair looked at each other again. "Derek," they both concluded: it seemed that great minds were in concord. End of Part 12 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 13 It was difficult not to notice that Nick was grinning from ear to ear as he and Alex strolled towards the circle. The Professor had gone on ahead as soon as he'd spotted the small gathering of people in the distance, and now the ex-SEAL's companion could contain her curiosity no longer. "What are you looking so happy about?" she asked lightly as they walked. "We're not exactly having the greatest morning." "Speak for yourself," Nick replied with a grin, "I'm having a great day. I landed a date with Holland." Alex's eyebrows rose sharply, but she couldn't keep the gleeful expression out of her features. Her surprise was evident. "We're in the middle of a case like this, and you still have the time to get a date?" amusement was the dominant emotion in her tone. "When you've got it, you've got it," Nick replied, his male ego well puffed up. Then they had to change the topic of conversation as they wandered into audio range of the members of the coven. Alex just shook her head and laughed, then the business face was back in place as work took over. As they approached, three of the six people waiting smiled at them, two looked vaguely unsure and the last wasn't trying to hide the fact that they were uncomfortable with the whole thing. "Everybody, this is Nick and Alex," Sam introduced cheerfully, "Nick, Alex, these are Holland, Caroline, Marie and Paul, you already know my wife." Holland grinned at Nick as the greetings passed without incident, she seemed more comfortable with the idea of the Legacy people, every second. "It was just a small gathering the other night," Rhyanna took over the explanations as they walked into the circle itself, "we were only performing a small fertility ritual for the new shrubs. It's something we like to do when they do anything on campus." She waved at her colleagues, indicating that they should take up the places they had held at the ceremony. The ex-Legacy operative and her husband stood at either side of the central stone whilst the other four took up positions at the half points of the compass. Holland and Marie were NE and NW, whilst Paul and Caroline had SE and SW respectively. "We were just about to ask the circle to divert some of it's power to the new trees when the figure appeared just there," Rhyanna pointed to the southern tree. "Nobody even saw him arrive," the woman continued evenly, "suddenly he was just there." Alex wandered across to the indicated position and turned round to face the assembly. "Here?" she asked to make sure she wasn't trying to find something in the wrong place. "Yes," the other woman replied, "and he was dressed all in black with a hood. There was no way we could make out anything about him." "He didn't even seem to have an aura," Holland added her angle, "it was so strange." There was nothing coming from the spot except the natural energy of the circle as far as the researcher was concerned, but she wasn't giving up yet. Nick had taken to watching the others as their attention centred on his colleague, so he remained silent. "You've both called the figure a `he'," Alex observed evenly, "is that an accurate description or a figure of speech." The younger of the two women who had spoken before looked at Rhyanna to answer this one. They had had long discussions about the incident since it had occurred and the older was equipped- to speak for most of them. "It's instinctive," the more experienced witch explained carefully, "we all feel that it was a male presence. The thing is, there's no way to be sure, since all other indicators seem to have been incorrect." There was Legacy training talking in that statement. The first thing operatives learned was not to take anything at face value. "Okay," Nick had done enough watching for his taste, "let's go over the facts. How tall was this person? Were they broad or slim? Did they say anything?" As usual he went straight for the point, and it earned him a scowl from Marie, who was not hiding the fact that she didn't like outsiders. The ex-SEAL just chose to ignore the hostility and continued. "Medium height," Caroline provided calmly, "not particularly large, and he or she never said anything, they just attacked the tree and threw the blood. I was one of the closest to them, but I really can't tell you much about them." "We were working by the light of torches," Rhyanna took the chance to explain, "and when the ritual was desecrated they all went out. We were all focused on the circle, when it was attacked and the power lines interrupted as well. It threw us into confusion. I'm afraid we will be of little help." That was becoming a distinct possibility, but Alex was an optimist, and she was hoping that this reconstruction might jog a few memories. Just a small piece of information would be better than the nothing they had at the moment. She cleared her mind and tried to tune into the area, even a trace of something would be good. Yet it was like trying to read from a blackboard that had been cleaned, it was as if the place had been washed of the events. Philip had mentioned the fact that he felt nothing from the clearing that would indicate it's history, and Alex was having the same problem. She was beginning to think that the continual energy movement in the circle was wiping away any trace of what had been. "I assumed you've tried something to find the person who did this," she said eventually, giving up on a psychic connection to whatever happened. "As soon as we came back to ourselves," Marie sounded offended by the question, "we tried to scry out an answer, but our methods were blocked by powerful anti-spells. Whoever committed this horrible act," she was obviously very worked up about the incident, "they were prepared for anything we could do." "That suggests they knew your capabilities," Nick was quick on the take up, "could it have been someone you trust?" The indignant look on the woman's face said that he was about to get a mouthful, but Rhyanna stepped in quickly. "The coven members are chosen very carefully," she said calmly, "and no one else is privy to our knowledge. There are fourteen of us at the moment, and we've only had two people leave the group. Both of those were faculty members who were offered research posts at other universities, and they went with our blessing. We honestly know of nobody who would want to do this." The Legacy members did not comment on this, traitors was not a subject with which they were unfamiliar. Pointing fingers just now would do nobody any good. The reconstruction was not going well, and as the pair looked at each other it was obvious that they were coming to the conclusions that it wasn't going to produce anything. They asked a few more questions, moved around a bit, and gauged people's reactions, until finally they decided they'd been proved right. Eventually, Nick said, "We'd like to talk to your whole membership, individually, if that's possible, including the two members who've left. This may go back some time, and it's impossible to tell what information could be of use." Holland smiled at him supportively, even as Marie glared for the hundredth time. Nobody chose to voice an objection, and slowly they headed back towards the campus buildings. ===================================================================== The book sat opened on Derek's desk, and the precept viewed it's contents without comment. Both Philip and Jasmine stood the other side of the office and waited for him to make his own translation. The indication of his interest in the volume was the quiet excitement in his eyes: the one part of his face he had trouble controlling. "It looks like you've found it," Derek finally said, and looked up at his companions. "This form could have been altered slightly to be the sigil that we've all been dreaming about." It was the first time the older man had actually admitted that he'd been seeing the same things as the rest of his house. That made it a very significant statement. It was because of this that Philip chose to jump in with both feet. "Could it have anything to do with the current case?" he asked quickly. The precept was silent for a moment as he thought through his answer. The idea had occurred to him, just as it had occurred to his companion, but wild notions were not what the Legacy was about. "It's possible," he admitted slowly, "but I can't say I've Seen anything to give an indication one way or the other. The box may hold an artefact used to bind a demon, but we can't tell without breaking the seals. If it does, then our task is clear, we make sure no one has the chance to bring about the chaos this book speaks of. If not, then our joint premonitions are to do with something completely different and we need to be vigilant on more than one level." The idea had been acknowledged, and equally it had been questioned, now all they needed was proof in one direction. There were other lines of enquiry and Derek's mind went to those now. "The other translation," he moved on smoothly, "was there anything to indicate what's in the box?" Philip shook his head. "The only details of any use were in the notes," he supplied with a small shrug, "if we're going to find anything else, we need another source. I'd just finished looking through it when we found the book." A grin appeared on Jasmine's face at the mention of finding the volume and Derek noticed immediately. The woman obviously found something about the reference funny, and the precept could not reign in his curiosity for long. "How exactly did you find it?" he enquired calmly. "Ah, it, um," the ex-priest seemed a little awkward about the explanation, "jumped off the shelf." That just made Jas laugh, she knew exactly which bit of the incident was making Philip turn a gentle shade of pink, so she decided to rescue him. The young man's mind was obviously on what had gone on before the book had moved, so his companion chose to do the explaining herself. "Actually," the young-looking woman chimed in helpfully, "Philip knocked it off the shelf, he just wasn't anywhere near it at the time. He had another vision and it triggered a reaction, and don't worry, I put out the fire." Derek's eyebrows rose, and the look on the younger man's face said he thought his own defence would have been better. Still, since it was confession time, he might as well tell the rest of it. "I knew I'd seen something like the symbol before," the ex-priest told his companions. "I translated a passage out of this book a few years ago, I must have seen it then. My subconscious knew it was here, it just took a while for the rest of me to catch up." Much to his surprise, his precept actually smiled at that. Philip seemed quite capable of blaming himself for just about anything and the trait was coming out again. "Well at least you remembered eventually," was the comment from Derek. "Write out a full translation of this for the others return, and then see if you can find any links between this and our box." "Will do," the young man replied with a smile, he seemed relieved to have something to do. ===================================================================== At five thirty Alex and Nick rolled through the door with a pile of notes, but not a lot of information. Anything of interest had been faxed or rung through earlier. Even when Derek had sent them a copy of Philip's interpretation of the data from the book and suggested they make discrete enquiries, it hadn't dug anything up. The pair had spoken to eight of the coven members, and even shown them the sigil, only to find that they knew as little as the Legacy. Only two major conclusions could be firmly decided from an entire afternoon's work: most of the people they had spoken to were wary of them but settled down as soon as their good intentions were revealed; and two of those they had seen were openly hostile. The problem was, Marie and Walter did not try and hide their dislike of the Legacy, but they showed no signs of treacherous activities towards their colleagues. In actual fact, their whole attitude suggested that it was born of a protective instinct towards their coven. Any initial reports were not going to be particularly revealing, and Nick had other things on his mind the moment he put his notes down. There was no doubt what he was thinking about as he disappeared upstairs towards a long hot shower. So intent on his purpose was the ex-SEAL, that he nearly bowled Philip over as his friend came out of the library and headed down stairs. "He in a hurry or something?" the young man asked as he reached Alex. "Something," the researcher replied with a smile, "Nick has a date." "Holland," was Philip's comment, and he grinned, "well that one was easy to spot." "Tell me about it," was the light reply, "he's been fidgeting for the last hour. It was all I could do to get him to stay for the last interview." All the ex-priest did was laugh, it was so like Nick to let his hormones rule his life. "See you shortly for dinner?" Philip eventually asked as the two continued up and down the stairs. "Nothing, short of a tidal wave would stop me," Alex told him genuinely. End of Part 13 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 14 The last thing anyone heard of Nick that evening was the sound of the mustang as it roared down the drive. He'd stuck his head round the corner to say goodbye, been told that he was going to visit one of the ex-coven members the next morning with Philip, and then he'd vanished. There were a couple of comments about objectivity from Derek as his friend and colleague disappeared, but for once he was speaking in jest. It was the same as it had been the previous evening: no matter that there had been little progress during the day, the air around the dinner table was almost jovial. There was a very brief discussion of work, and then the house actually turned to leisure activities. This was quite an achievement for a Legacy group in the middle of a case as big as this one. ===================================================================== On the journey to the restaurant, Nick had begun to try and decide what had gotten into him to make him ask Holland out on a date. It wasn't exactly standard working practice to become involved with a woman, who for all he knew, was part of a conspiracy to wipe-out her own coven. For that matter, it wasn't exactly Nick's habit to date witches. The moment he saw the young woman in question, waiting for him outside the main building, however, he remembered exactly why he'd chosen this course of action. Holland looked stunning: she'd twisted back the sides of her hair, fastening them at the back with a small clasp, and the light outside the restaurant picked up her delicate features beautifully. The white lacy dress she wore made Nick's heart beat just that little bit faster. The brown suede pumps and waistcoat added a welcome spot of colour. Nick looked down at him self one last time before he stepped out from behind a parked van. The jeans were black and neatly pressed; the shirt was formal enough for sitting in a restaurant, but casual enough not to be dressy; the boots were polished, but practical; and the leather jacket was sharp. He was preened and ready to meet the lady, even if he did say so himself. With warm, cheerful smile in place he walked out from the protective cover and wandered towards Holland. His expression was met with like as she saw him, and then came the awkward moment between the first sighting and when he was actually in range so something could be said. "You're looking wonderful this evening," the words came out of Nick's mouth the moment he thought he could be heard. That brought an even broader smile from his companion, and she let her own gaze track up and down him, once. "You're not so bad yourself," she said cheerfully. "So far so good," Nick's wit came into play. "Shall we?" he asked with a charming half bow as he indicated the door. "I think we shall," was the equally light reply. ===================================================================== Now Allen's wasn't one of the top restaurants in town, you didn't find poor graduate students in most of those, but it was the best of the rest. The table was beautifully laid out with deep blue linen, there were two candles burning brightly, and the settings were immaculate. Nick knew this was going to be a good evening the moment he laid eyes on the decor. An hour and a half, and two courses later, he knew he'd been right and the ex-SEAL and his companion were well into a cheerful conversation about their respective encounters with the supernatural. "You wouldn't believe the size of this thing," Nick was in the middle of saying when their waiter appeared beside the table. "Was everything satisfactory?" the young man asked politely as both patrons turned to look at him. "It was wonderful," Holland returned brightly as their plates were efficiently removed. "Would the sir, and madam like to see the desert trolley?" was the next question. Nick grinned as he watched the battle that ensued on his companion's face, it was obvious that there was a struggle of will going on inside her head. She looked to the ex-SEAL to make the decision, but he refused to rescue her from this one. "Oh, go on then," she said finally. The waiter left with a knowing smile on his face. "No fair," Holland complained as they waited for the ridiculously large trolley to be wheeled over, "you could have said no for me." That made Nick laugh. "And deprive you of that chocolate gateaux?" he said lightly. "I saw your eyes follow it all the way across the room when that table over there ordered it." "That doesn't mean you're supposed to let me get anywhere near it," she scolded him with mock disdain. "I'm an addict, you're not supposed to encourage me." The desserts arrived beside the table and the waitress in charge of them gave Holland an understanding glance. "You know you want to," Nick teased mercilessly, "order it." "I'm considering hating you," the young woman shot back. A minute later, there was a large slice of rich chocolate gateaux on Holland's side of the table, and Nick was staring at what claimed to be cappuccino mousse. The witch had insisted that if she was going to fall into the pit of self-indulgence, then so was her date, and the ex-SEAL had a thing for coffee. "You were saying, before we were so rudely interrupted by desert," Holland prompted cheerfully. "Oh yeah," Nick remembered rapidly, "this Aztec demon ..." ===================================================================== By the time the coffee and liqueurs had been consumed the couple had reached the stage where their hands had met in the middle of the table. This arrangement had been achieved by a slight subterfuge on Nick's part that Holland had quite willingly fallen for. They had been talking about how the young woman had discovered that she was a little different from average, and how her grandmother had told fortunes. Nick had then asked to have his palm read, he had never withdrawn the limb, mostly because Holland had never let go. It may not have been PC, but when they went to leave, Nick most adamantly insisted that he pay for everything, and when the size of postgraduate scholarships came into the discussion, his companion had to agree. If the truth be told, she rather enjoyed being spolied. "The night is still young," the ex-SEAL said lightly as they walked into the yellow of a summer evening, "would madam care to go for a drive?" Holland was giving this careful consideration, until she saw the Mustang. "Wow," she said immediately, "that is quite a car." She hadn't seen him drive into the parking lot and the red convertible had a profound affect on her thoughts on a summer night jaunt. There were just some cars that had to be enjoyed, and this was one of them. "I know this great spot just out of town," she said brightly, "you can see the stars." ===================================================================== She was right, a leisurely drive later, not even all the lights of San Francisco could blot out the stars as the sky darkened. It was a totally clear evening, and it seemed almost magical as one by one the small pinpoints of life appeared in the growing deep blue. Nick's arm slowly wound it's way around Holland's shoulders as they watched the night move in, and she did not object. Neither was quite sure when it happened, but they found themselves leaning very close together. It was but a tiny step to the long, passionate kiss that followed. ===================================================================== It had been an enjoyable evening, so enjoyable in fact that Rachel and Kat had managed to miss the last public ferry, and so had opted to stay the night. The younger of the two saw this as a wonderful adventure on a school night, and it had taken stories from both Alex and her mother to get her to fall asleep. That had been a couple of hours ago, and now the rest of the household had also retired to bed. Some were finding it easier to sleep than others. Philip was sitting on his bed, staring at the far wall. He had been reading, but the thoughts going round in his head had distracted him enough to make it impossible. Eventually he'd put the book aside and decided to sift through the jumble in his mind. It was the feelings and urges that had coursed through him in the library earlier that day which were bothering him. The things he had been contemplating had seemed so natural, and yet part of him had been afraid of them. Ever since he'd first admitted that he loved Jasmine such things had occurred to him, but never with quite such force. Thinking about it, he realised that even when he'd considered more of a physical relationship with the woman he cared more for in the world than anyone else, it had been just that, a thought. The real point that was distracting him now, was that it was no longer so benign, this was something he truly wanted. Before, the abstinence they had shown seemed to be mutual, the question was, what would Jas say? All this was turning round and round in his mind and it would not let him rest. Finally, after a good twenty minutes of soul searching he climbed off the bed, reached for a robe, and went to find out the answer. Jasmine's room was right next door and it only took him a few seconds to wander down the landing, but as he reached the slightly open portal, all courage suddenly left him. What if she was asleep? What if she thought he was being premature? What if she didn't want anything to do with this? All the questions assailed him at the same time and he froze. If anyone else had come out of their rooms at that moment they would have found one very worried looking young man, staring at an oak door. "Come in, love," the sweet voice came from within the room: she knew he was there. There was no chance to turn back now, but Philip found he was terribly afraid. It took every ounce of will he had, just to reach for the door handle. He stepped over the threshold almost tentatively, and although he realised he was hovering, he could not make it any further. Jasmine was sitting on the bed cross legged, her raven hair flowing over slight shoulders that were draped in a silk robe. A beautiful smile played across her features, and she looked at him with eyes that already seemed to know his purpose. Slowly, with the grace of a nymph she climbed off the bed and walked towards him. "You are welcome here, darling," she said as she reached him, "there is no need to fear whatever you find." With one hand she took hold of his right arm, and with the other she pushed the door closed, then she led him further into the room. "I ...," Philip started as she gazed up into his face, but her fingers reached out and touched his lips, silencing him. "I know why you are here, my love," she said quietly, "I feel it too." Her delicate fingers held one of his hands in a gentle grip and she squeezed reassuringly. With her free hand she pulled at the belt of her robe and the soft silk parted slowly. It fell open to reveal pale, milky white skin, Jasmine was not wearing a stitch underneath. For a moment she let him just look at her, his eyes tracing curves downwards, and then she took his hand and placed it over her heart. Holding it there so he could feel the strong beat, she took a step forward so they were no more that a few centimetres apart. "From love to lover," she said as her face lost it's humour, "is this what you really want?" He went to speak, but again she stopped him. "There are forces in this house tonight that draw us together," she told him calmly, "forces that are affecting everyone here. Look deep inside, my love, and find what you truly feel, not what they urge you to do." If Philip had considered it he would have realised that not everything going on in the Legacy house was perfectly normal, but that really didn't change how he felt. It was more that it had brought the truth to light than anything else. "I love you," was what he finally said. Her expression turned to one of pure joy and she pulled him close, burying her face in his chest. End of Part 14 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 15 Philip liked the feeling of holding Jasmine, he liked it a great deal, and somehow she fitted into his arms. He just held her for a long moment, until he realised that she was shaking lightly. Very gently he pulled away slightly, and as she looked up at him he realised that she was crying. He was surprised and anxiety showed on his face immediately. "Don't worry, darling," his companion said very quickly, "I'm just being emotional." She smiled at him through her tears and wiped them away with the back of her hand. "It's just a female Guide thing," she laughed at her own words, but she couldn't quite remove the expression from Philip's face. He wanted to understand, and he was not going to be brushed off with half answers. "Are you okay?" he asked, unable to think of much else to say. "I'm fine," she told him, bringing herself into check, "I've been alone so long, I never expected this, and it's so ... wonderful." With lips as soft as rose petals, she kissed his hand. "You have more important things to worry about than why I'm crying," she said lightly, and when she looked back at him this time there was a tender mischief in her eyes. "Like why you have so many clothes on." Philip actually looked rather shocked when she undid the bow in the belt of his robe, and Jas found this delightful. His expression changed to one of perfect comprehension as his conscious brain finally caught up with the fact that this would be happening *now*. It really had never quite occurred to him that they'd be doing anything but talking. He'd worn boxers and a T-shirt to bed and Jasmine's small hands ran over the outside of the top, up onto his shoulders, pushing away the robe as she went. He let it fall to the floor as it reached the point of no return and then he ran his own hands under her garment. Jas just lay her hands flat on his chest for a moment and closed her eyes as his fingers moved lightly around her waist and over the base of her spine. She leaned back into the sensation, enjoying his touch. This woman had watched life from a distance for a very long time, she had learned the different ways humans chose to come together, but experiencing was an entirely different matter. She had memories from other Guides, she could see life through their eyes, but this was her body, her time, and the real contact was so much sweeter. There was a fire inside her, she could feel it's heat and it spread throughout her whole form. It was as if just the merest touch brought her alive and she wanted to feel more of him. Her fingers were very fast as they took the bottom of Philip's slightly baggy T-shirt. Pulling it upwards was no problem, and her companion took it the rest of the way once she had started the procedure. It was as he was just easing it over his head that she ran her nails down the side of one pectoral muscle and he almost lost his balance completely. The act sent shivers running from his chest to every erogenous zone in his body and he blinked at her as he literally threw the shirt aside. Jas just smiled sweetly and did it again. The look of ecstasy on his face told her everything she needed to know, and quite suddenly she decided to take charge. With a sly grin she turned away from him and climbed onto the bed, and proceeded to drape herself across it in a most alluring manner. Leaning on one elbow she patted the space she had left and Philip sat down. It didn't take a great deal of coaxing to push him down on his back and then Jasmine climbed astride him. Her robe brushed his skin, feather light and he shivered as he beheld the fullness of her womanhood. His eyes travelled the length of her lithe body, following the contours of her pert breasts, lower over the slightly curving stomach, down to the mass of curly hair that was as black as midnight. She could feel his arousal, separated from her by the thin cloth of his shorts, but she'd get to those eventually. For now she was interested in other parts of his anatomy. Jas had long, rounded nails and she was going to put them to good use. With the index finger of each hand she began to draw slow, gentle lines from Philip's shoulders, down the line of his well formed muscles. He closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. As she reached his ribs her other fingers came into play, and she moved them in long sweeping lines along his flesh. The young man was in heaven and he murmured his satisfaction. Jasmine's nails worked intricate patterns into his flesh, moving lightly, but leaving short lived, white trails. Her digits teased, moving all over his torso, coming close to sensitive areas, but just stopping short. Then her hands started to move in large circles across the top of his chest. On each revolution the tips of her fingers moved closer to his hard, aroused nipples, building anticipation with every touch. One by one she reduced the number of nails she was using and slipped that one millimetre closer. When finally she flicked the sensitive skin with the very ends of her index fingers, Philip shuddered with pleasure. Jasmine wasn't finished there though. She smiled down at him as he opened his eyes, and then slowly she leant forward. With one hand she gently stroked the left side of his chest, and the other she covered in tiny, feather light kisses. His arms came up and entwined her as she ever so slowly ran her tongue over the proud nipple. With a touch, almost as light as hers, Philip ran his fingers down the back of her neck, under the edge of her robe. For a moment she paused and let him play a melody of sensation on her skin, and then, thoroughly in tune with his orchestra, she continued her own sonata. As she swapped her ministrations to the other side of his chest, he slipped his other hand up over her back and gently held her. For now, Jas was moving upwards, and leaving a line of kisses behind she worked her way up the side of his neck, across his jaw line, and eventually to the sensuous mouth. He pulled her close as lips parted and tongue sought tongue. Her hands pushed through his hair as her body flattened against his. This woman may have been small, but there was plenty of power in the frame that rested against Philip's. Deep passionate kisses consumed them both, until gradually she pulled back, changing instead to exploring just his lips, and then she bit him. The nip was firm, but not meant to hurt and she sat up quickly, looking to see the expression on his face. He was smiling back and she needed no more encouragement. Philip wanted to give back some of the pleasure she was giving him, and as she lay back down, choosing his ear as her next target, he ran one hand down the back of her right leg. She murmured at the sensation and moved to give him easier access. As she nibbled the edge of his ear, he gently stroked the taught muscle in her thigh. It was all very gentle foreplay, that was until Jas moved back down to her lover's neck and bit him again. In response his hand clenched slightly and his nails dug in slightly. <> Jasmine's voice sounded in his mind. <> was the response. <> she sent back. Philip never had a chance to reply as Jas proceeded to nip her way down to his shoulder. His answer was to run his nails down her leg and the limb all but collapsed. <> she threw into his mind. The young woman had taken the move as a challenge. Her lover just surrendered completely as her teeth moved from his arm to his chest, and where she had placed kisses she put not so gentle bites. She never went to hurt him, but the slight pressure was more than a little stimulating. Her fingers clawed at his upper chest as her mouth moved lower and all he could do was shiver under her touch. As she moved far enough down the bed to be sitting on her legs she shifted back to the side and deftly played with the top edge of his shorts as her right hand ran down the inside of his thigh. She let her eyes run the full length of his body as a playful expression appeared on her face. <> she decided lightly, and went to work on his legs instead. Muscles Philip didn't know were tense, suddenly found themselves the subject of Jasmine's attention and she made them sing. She turned his entire body into one big erogenous zone, and all he could do was enjoy it. When she moved back onto his chest, however, he knew he couldn't take much more, not without leaving her way behind. As she rubbed gently against him for the hundredth time he decided to take over. <> he told her, and gently flipped her onto her back, <> She looked into his pale eyes and saw them smiling at her. <> she responded, and relaxed back onto the bed. His touch was almost too gentle as his mouth brushed her skin. She arched her back to bring him closer and he brought one hand up to cup her breast firmly. One leg came over to slide between her thighs and flesh brushed against flesh. Her reaction was to moan and let him continue: he obviously knew what he was doing. Her knees relaxed apart and as his lips caressed her upper body, his leg tantalised her lower regions. She never even noticed that as his hand traced a line down her side it suddenly lost contact. Only as she felt something sliding from beneath her did she realise that he was engaged anywhere but with her. She turned her head to see that he had gathered the belt of her robe in one hand. He twisted slightly and much to her surprise slipped his hand under her left leg. Waves of pleasure erupted within her as he slid the silk up the inside of her thigh. Her abdomen rose off the bed as she reacted instinctively to the sensation and Philip's face turned away as he watched the path of his limb. Jas could feel that he was smiling as he let his head rest on the curve of her stomach. Just as he reached the top of her leg he changed the direction of the silk and skirted neatly around the dark, curly hair, and pushing himself up with his other arm, ran the material over the area just below her navel. He let the ribbon of material fall loose and then he dragged it up between her breasts. Jas simply melted with a sigh of perfect bliss. Philip ran the cloth over her torso and legs a few more times, watching her bask in the whole sensation. When he thought she was just about ready he ran it down that little bit lower and it dropped gently between her thighs. She gasped and shivered slightly at the feeling and the tension in her body was obvious. With a small smile her lover slowly pulled the material back. Her breath caught in her throat as the silk slipped over her and the tight warmth at her core literally exploded. She shook and grabbed for Philip's arm as the orgasm took her, and Jasmine revelled in the stimulation. She'd had no idea that he could bring her to the edge quite so easily, and yet, even as the spasms receded, she wanted more. As she opened her eyes there was a hunger in them and Philip needed no urging to remove his last item of clothing. The shorts went sailing onto the floor with little or no hassle and Jas pushed him down onto the bed. This time when she straddled him there was no cloth to get in the way and hot skin found moist, warm flesh. She was more than ready for him and his hands cradled her waist as she slowly rubbed her damp core against him. For someone who had no practical experience she was definitely putting the theory to work. He was hard and firm against her, and she slowly raised herself up into more or less the right position. Then with even pressure she pushed herself down on him, and man and woman slipped together as one. Both groaned at the sensation and Jas pulled away, wanting to experience the feeling of him sliding inside her again. Her hands pushed on his chest as she moved and he manoeuvred his hips for perfect positioning. They began to move in a gentle rhythm, gauging each other's pleasure as they did so. Philip pushed into her and she down on him, and they pulled apart. Time and again flesh met in concord as they reached for climax. <> Jas' voice sounded almost desperate in Philip's head as her body threatened to take away any control she had of her thoughts. Her lover couldn't even formulate a reply, but his instincts knew what to do even if his brain wasn't quite sure. Just as they both surrendered to the zenith of sexual experience he let go of any barriers his mind held against the world. As two bodies spasmed in one accord, two minds fused and the couple shared each other's pleasure. When they came back to themselves, Jas was sprawled across Philip like a life-size ragdoll, and it was only slowly that she sat up. She liked the feeling of closeness as she sat there, but as he smiled at her she slowly climbed off. "My love," she said quietly as they lay, still, for a moment, "your talents were wasted in celibacy." He smiled at that and his hand slipped down her side, over her hip. "Practice makes perfect," he told her lightly. End of Part 15 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 16 It was the middle of the night, as far as Rachel was concerned it was way too hot, and so she had headed for the kitchen. Having a second home in the Castle was a great asset, but the bedrooms were one hell of a long way from refrigerator. It was on her way back with a tall glass of juice that she nearly bumped into Derek. "Good evening," he said with a warm smile, "I didn't expect to meet anyone at this time of night." "Me neither," the woman replied as her heart stopped thudding in her chest. How the man managed to walk around quite so quietly she was going to have to find out, him appearing round the corner at the top of the stairs had scared the hell out of her. Their relationship was quite a complex one, they'd been taking it slow. They were both comfortable in each other's company, but each of them had barriers that they hadn't yet dropped. Standing there, on the landing, in her night- gown, Rachel felt suddenly vulnerable. There was something very male about Derek, and even with the cheerful smile on his face there was almost a predatory glint in his eye. "It's very warm tonight, isn't it," the Precept observed calmly, "I was going to the kitchen myself." It was almost like standing there with a stranger, Rachel just had no idea what to do. She spent hours with this man, she'd kissed him, held him, she loved him dearly, but something about this meeting scared her. "Are you all right?" Derek saw the anxiety in her face and he moved close, protectively. "I'm fine," the psychiatrist replied just a little too fast. She put the glass down on the hall table to hide the fact that her hand was shaking. His hand reached out and rested on her arm supportively, he obviously had no idea that it was his presence that was causing her nervousness. Rachel looked up into his face, and saw how much he cared: from that point she couldn't help herself. With almost wanton abandon she took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. There was a moment's resistance, and then his arms entwined her and his mouth accepted hers greedily. Their bodies pressed close and human passion met human passion like runaway trains. How long they stayed like that, neither of them could have said, but suddenly the hall clock struck 2 a.m., and it's chimes broke the spell. It was like Cinderella's coach changing back to a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight, one moment they were clinging to each other like a pair of desperate teenagers, and the next they were slightly apart, blinking at each other. "Um, ah," was how Rachel started, "um ... I really should be getting to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow to get Kat to school." "Ah, yes," Derek agreed, at a loss to explain what they had just been up to. His companion smiled awkwardly and then fled to her room, leaving her juice sitting on the sideboard. The sudden urges were a little hard to explain, and Derek just stood there for a while. ===================================================================== Nick was still grinning to himself when he walked across the landing towards Philip's room at ten to eight in the morning. He'd probably been grinning in his sleep. As far as he was concerned he had had a totally fantastic evening, and he was still on a high. He and Holland had touched first base and things were looking extremely good for a try on second: the ex-SEAL was on cloud nine. As he tapped on Philip's door he resisted the urge to sing. They were supposed to be leaving very shortly for the trip to see one of the ex-coven members, and the fact that there was no answer from his friend's room surprised Nick. There had been a very short conversation the night before and they'd agreed to meet at quarter to eight, when Philip hadn't shown, the other Legacy member just assumed he was running a few minutes late. He knocked again a little louder, well, over sleeping could happen to anyone. The young man knocked a third time, and was beginning to think he might have to search the gardens when the door to the next room opened. A very sleepy head appeared. "Yes?" Philip asked without even noticing that Nick's mouth was hanging open. "Ah, it's nearly eight o'clock," the ex-SEAL said eventually, "we're supposed to be leaving soon." Comprehension dawned very slowly on the other man's face, he looked somewhat wrecked. "Oh, damn," he said as soon as the message was computed, "I forgot. I've only been asleep for an hour." He really didn't seem to realise what he'd said, and the growing stunned expression on his friend's face did not seem to register. "Give me ten minutes," he said just before diving back into Jasmine's room, "I'll meet you down stairs." Nick made it to the main hallway before he began to laugh. ===================================================================== By the time Philip had showered, dressed and run down the stairs he was somewhat more compus mentis, and he couldn't help but notice the funny look Nick was giving him. There was no time for detailed enquiries just then, however, since they really had to leave. It was only when the two were sitting side by side in the Legacy helecopter that the ex-priest finally brought it up. "What?" he said pointedly, as his companion looked at him and smiled for the twentieth time. "You really only got an hours sleep?" was all Nick shot back with a wicked grin. Philip tried to look indignant and managed it for all of ten seconds, until his friend's expression got the better of him. He still looked slightly embarrassed, this wasn't the sort of subject he was used to, but he had to smile as well. "Yes," he replied with a sideways glance, "and I'm knackered." Nick began to laugh. ===================================================================== It was a united female front which the university was going to see on Friday, but not until later in the day and Alex was preparing her bag when Jas finally emerged into the rest of the house. "Good morning," the researcher greeted with her habitual cheerfulness, "you're late today." She was quite surprised when the other woman just beamed at her. There was something different about the Guide this morning, and Alex couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. She was dressed the same as the day before, jeans and blouse, her hair was pulled back with the same scruchie, but she seemed to be walking on air. "Is there a reason you're so happy?" the young woman enquired brightly, "or is this just something I should expect from time to time." Jasmine had only been in the house for six days, but she and Alex had already struck up a firm friendship. Their shared sensitivity gave then a lot in common, and although the researcher was not the only psychic in the house, she had been the only female one, Jas gave her someone to talk to. Each woman would follow the other to hell and back without much thought. "Philip came to my room last night," was what Jas told her best friend. The two had discussed the difficulties of a relationship with a man who could fall over the edge into self guilt, and it took a moment for the light of realisation to dawn in Alex's face. "And he didn't leave," she wanted to make sure. The other woman nodded her head vigorously. "Ewwww, that's wonderful," Alex threw her arms round her friend and hugged her. The researcher knew something that was right when she heard it, and this was high up there with almost perfect. By the time Rachel wandered into the control room, the pair were sitting in a corner having a whispered conversation, and giggling like school girls. It didn't take them long to fill her in on why they were quite so cheerful. It was difficult not to join in the atmosphere. ===================================================================== Rachel and Alex went to the University just after lunch; Derek spent the day tracking down and talking to the last ex-coven member, who was in Kenya; and Nick and Philip met up with the resident Professor of Psychology at UCLA. It was a busy day, but by the look of the faces around the conference table that evening, no one could really explain what was going on. The meeting had been proceeding for a good half hour before the silence fell. It was a final, sort of lost silence: for once nobody seemed to be able to produce a lead. There were three lists on the table, each containing names, but not one of them was much help. The first list contained the names of the coven members who the House considered beyond suspicion, or more accurately, completely assessed, The second were those names of people who were neutral as far as instincts went, and the third were the titles of those who had appeared hostile to the Legacy. The problem was, only the first list gave them anything to go on, and that was to rule people out. There was not the first indication of who might be the saboteur at all. The coven's description of events suggested it was a man, but the Legacy were not taking that for granted. If this person could hide their identity with magic, they could probably fake that as well. "This isn't getting us anywhere," Nick chose to break the deadlock. "We need more information, or wait until he makes another move." "That may be too late," Alex pointed out calmly. "But that doesn't change the facts," Rachel put her oar in, "Nick's right, we're just going in circles." They looked to Derek, he would have to make a decision. "All right," he said eventually, "let's adjourn until tomorrow evening. If anyone thinks of anything, or finds something before then we'll call a meeting earlier, otherwise we just have to keep digging." Everyone nodded, what else could they do? ===================================================================== The atmosphere in the house had added up to a somewhat difficult evening for Rachel. There had been little discussion as to whether the psychiatrist and her daughter would stay: it was the weekend and the circumstances of the current case made it a forgone conclusions. For the next two days the small family would reside on Angel Island. This, of course excited Kat no end, which was why it had taken an age to get her to sleep. The girl just kept talking: not out of malice or spite, but simply because she had so much to say. Her mother had tried to leave her room on several occasions, and it was only after a couple of house that she was able to actually get away. What Rachel was not expecting when she finally managed to get Kat to sleep, was Derek standing in the hallway as she walked towards her own room. He didn't seem to have been waiting, in fact he came to a halt at virtually the same moment she appeared, but he was carrying a glass of juice. "It's warmer tonight than it was yesterday," he said with a smile. "I thought you might need this." The ice cubes rattled as he offered her the container. It was such a thoughtful gesture and she smiled back at him as she reached out. "Thank you," the psychiatrist replied calmly, even as she noted that he took rather a long time to release the glass after her fingers connected with his. There was just a moment when neither of them could decide what to say, and they just looked at each other. "About last night," Rachel finally said. They'd been avoiding the subject all day, but with true professional instinct, the psychiatrist knew that side stepping her problems would not make them go away. It was when she first opened her mouth that Rachel watched an expression appear on Derek's face that few people ever saw: the Precept of the San Francisco house wasn't quite sure what to do. "I think the artefact from the coven is influencing the house," the tall man took the safest route into the conversation. "Mostly it seems to be in a good way ..." There was a `but' coming, Rachel could tell, and she couldn't quite keep the disappointment off her face. She thought Derek was going to just brush the previous evening away. Now perception was one of the psychic's strong points, not that he always acted on it, but her momentary expression stopped his speech. The fact that Rachel would not feel nervous of the encounter any more had not crossed Derek's mind, now it did. The woman had had all night to think about the consequences of the previous night, and she had more than come round to the idea. Every kind of scenario had travelled through her head, something like this being one of them, but secretly she had hoped that something might come of it. They had not really addressed the concept of more than a superficial physical relationship, it had just been quietly ignored. Now that was no longer possible. "Nothing is influencing me to do anything," Rachel had no idea she was going to say it until the phrase came out of her mouth, then she had no choice but to continue, "it's just reminding me that I'm a woman." Derek actually looked slightly stunned and rather pleased. He'd never been what could be termed sexually repressed, but with Rachel he hadn't wanted to pressure her into anything. Grief had brought them together and they had developed a loving, comfortable relationship. It looked as if it was about to become a little more. "A very beautiful woman," he said quietly. Rachel reached out her hand with a half smile. "Let's go to my room," she responded calmly. End of Part 16 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 17 The window was open and there was actually a slight breeze blowing at the net curtain as Derek quietly closed the door behind them. Rachel placed the juice down on the bedside table and turned back to the man she loved. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and with one hand she let the blonde tresses fall free. Her companion did not need encouraging. With a quick step he was beside her, and his long arms entwined her slim body as she moulded to him. His dexterous fingers gently ran up the side of her face and then across and around the curve of her neck. Derek's touch was like electricity to Rachel, and she lost her self in the light embrace. He smelled wonderful as she leaned against him: a hint of aftershave and a particular masculine smell that she had long learnt to associate with him. They had come close before, but never with the intention of going any further, meaning that this was the first time Rachel felt free to completely enjoy their togetherness. She wound her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder to give him access to all the muscles in her neck. "Mm," she mumbled as he stroked a particularly tense spot, "that's good." "Y'know I could reach it better if your collar wasn't in the way," Derek's voice held just a trace of humour. She'd been enjoying herself so much that Rachel had quite lost track of time. The couple had to have been standing in exactly the same spot for a good few minutes. There was a grin trying to force it's way onto his face as the psychiatrist looked up at Derek, and she had to smile back. "I think you may be right," she agreed cheerfully and stepped back slightly, "and it's *so* warm in here." The woman's cotton blouse only had four buttons, but she sighed as she looked down at them. "It's going to take me ages to get all of these undone on my own," she said with a lost innocent expression, "why don't you help?" It seemed like a good idea so Derek did not argue. However, his long fingers were surprisingly slow when it came to actually pushing the buttons through the holes. He paused after the first fastening gave way to his ministrations and gazed at her for a moment, almost as if he was committing each moment to memory. The he continued to the next and did the same. Each time more flesh was revealed he paused and absorbed the whole scene. Rachel felt very beautiful under his care. In fact, she was so caught up in watching him undress her that she totally forgot that he too was fully clothed. The psychiatrist's eyes followed every move Derek made, and she was amazed how arousing this was. The way his fingers played with the buttons before pushing them back through the holes was almost erotic. By the time he reached fastening number four various parts of her body were forcefully making themselves known to her. Her blood seemed to be moving very fast, and very forcefully. Derek for his part was enjoying himself immensely. He'd dreamed of this moment, not with the stark clarity of a vision, but with the muddled intensity of a man in love. There may have been a force in the house giving somewhat more importance to certain frames of mind, but he really didn't care. It was probably exactly what they both needed. As Rachel's shirt fell open to reveal her white lace bra, the precept felt his heat beat increase slightly. Her skin was smooth as he ran his hands up over her shoulders, pushing the cotton back. The garment fell away and she brought her arms up to either side of his neck, looping them loosely together. Once again their bodies moulded together and Derek bent his head to cover her mouth in a tender kiss. Rachel's skin was hot to the touch as her companion's hands ran across her back and his closeness only heated her up more. Lips and tongues explored for a while and then his fingers descended towards her skirt. Still wrapped in his embrace, the psychiatrist did nothing to hinder his progress. Derek went about releasing the zip in exactly the same way he had the buttons: with almost agonising slowness. He played with the fastener for a while, not quite pulling it hard enough to part metal from metal, but letting Rachel know exactly what he was doing. Then, just when she was beginning to think he was never going to rescue her from the confines of her clothes, her lover started to move it downwards. The gentle stroking of his fingers at the base of her spine sent shivers all through her body. Her second item of clothing fell away from Rachel with ease and she deftly kicked it aside with one foot. Standing close to him in just her bra and panties made her feel deliciously exposed. As she pushed close to him, his trousers did little to hide his own excitement. One of his arms snaked up her back and after only a slight touch she felt the hooks on he bra release. She was quite surprised, that was one skill she hadn't expected Derek to have. It was a nice feeling having his fingers run up and down her spine uninhibited, but she wasn't quite ready to let him out of the embrace just yet, so she did not remove the garment completely. Instead she began to kiss his long, elegant neck. "Now whose collar is in the way?" she said quietly as she took hold of his with her teeth and pulled open the second popper. She had allowed herself a spot of delight when she'd realised that his shirt was held by studs rather than fiddley buttons. As she moved her kisses from the side of his neck to the base of his throat, she smiled as an idea occurred to her. Slowly, Rachel pushed herself off Derek and he obliged by loosening the embrace. Under his watchful gaze she calmly slipped the now unwanted bra from one arm then the next, throwing it lightly to one side. Then she turned her attention to him. She kissed his throat once more and then pulled at the next popper with her teeth. It came undone quite easily and she kissed the flesh it revealed. One by one she attacked the fasteners on the shirt, allowing her hands to run down the outside of the material as she moved lower. Each success was followed by a moment of tenderness before she moved on, until finally she was kneeling and had reached the button of his trousers. This she deftly released with her fingers, but she went to work on the zip with her mouth. Derek by this time had his fingers wrapped in her hair, waiting for the next gentle caress. Having opened the fastening this time she kissed the flat of his stomach. Without pausing she gently pulled at the waistband, and eased the trousers over his hips, revealing a pair of black silk boxers. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and look up, she hadn't put Derek down as the type for black silk. She grinned and he just smiled right on back. The pause lasted a second or two and then Rachel went back to what she had been doing. When she reached the floor with the trousers, Derek helpfully stepped out of the garment. It was at this point that he expected Rachel to stand up again, but she didn't, in fact she started at his feet. Until now she hadn't realised that he'd been padding round the house barefoot: she hadn't been much interested in anything below the knee. Yet now she was down there, she found that his toes were long and elegant like his fingers. Before she realised what she was doing she found herself stroking his feet. The psychiatrist had a momentary vision of Patrick climbing off the ceiling if she'd done this to him, but it made her smile rather than feel any of the guilt she once would have. Derek for his part seemed to enjoy it immensely: Rachel had discovered one of his weak points. Filing this away she began a slow migration upwards, enjoying the feeling of strong muscle against her hands as she ran them over every part of his legs. Under her tender care Derek trembled more than once. The silk felt soft and smooth under her fingers and she played with the material as she slowly stood up. There was quite a hunger in Derek's eyes as she gazed back into them, and pressed herself against him. It took but a moment to remove his shirt. His arms were hungry as he threw aside the cotton garment and pulled her into a passionate embrace. Skin touched skin and the Precept felt every nerve in his body respond. Rachel was so soft against him and he was filled with a desire he could never explain. He followed this urge through by sliding his fingers down her and slipping his fingers under the rim of her panties. The lacy, white, elasticated material gave little resistance, almost as little as the woman wearing it, and the garment fell to the floor. For a moment Rachel pressed against him even harder and then, before she quite knew what was happening she felt her feet leave the ground. Derek's tall, wiry frame belied the strength it hid and the psychiatrist was cradled in his arms easily. The look of surprise on her face became one of pleasure very quickly and Rachel relaxed into his grip, leaving only one arm draped over his shoulder. The bed was very soft as the Precept gently placed his lover on top of the light covers. The blonde woman lay back with wide eyed expectation and her hair spread in a molten wave over the pillow. "You are incredibly beautiful," Derek told her in almost, enchanted tones. His expression was sort of lost, even as a contented smile tried to play over his mouth. That sensual, almost pouting mouth that filled Rachel's senses as she remembered it's touch. She barely noticed as he sat down on the bed beside her, all she saw were those lips bending to join with hers. The heat coming from his body as he leant close was incredible, as skin came close to skin it was like a furnace. He must have felt it as well because after what seemed like barely a second he pulled back. A sparkling mischief was in his eyes this time and as he ran his right hand down her side, Rachel had to wonder what he was thinking. It was only as she heard the clinking of glass and looked towards the sound that she realised what else he was doing. Those long fingers had dipped into the juice on the side and extracted a glistening cube of ice. With a charming smile he popped this into his mouth and then returned to the kiss. He let some of the delightfully cool water from the rapidly melting ice, drip over his lips onto hers. The contrast between burning flesh and arctic liquid made her tremble inside, for no reason she could fathom. The anticipation was almost more than Rachel could bare as he withdrew his touch from her mouth and let his eyes wander over her body a moment. She knew what he was going to do and the waiting was so enticing. He kissed just below her collar bone, lips closed and warm: he was teasing and it made her all the more excited. Another kiss, this time on her shoulder and again warm. Then it came, the freezing touch of ice on her skin as he let his lips part over her the centre of her chest. Her fingers curled into the bed sheets and she shivered as he slowly drew a trail of moisture down over one of her breasts. When he ran the frozen water over her proud nipple she could have screamed, instead she moaned. Derek was enjoying every moment, and as Rachel closed her eyes in ecstasy he gently climbed onto the bed, straddling her. With calm precision he placed several more icy kisses over her upper body, revelling in the way that the sensation caused her to strain against him. Her movements were totally unconscious, but with each touch her hips moved and pushed against her lover. Eventually, however, he chose to move lower and he created cold trails all over her stomach. His tongue darted into her navel as a small pool developed there, removing it even as he had created it. It was not his intention to stop there, and he moved even lower. She couldn't do anything but writhe as he let the cold liquid run over her pulsating mound. She was alive with arousal, and she was running out of time. Her body was screaming for Derek, and she wanted him ... "Now," was all she said, and there was no arguing with her tone. Her hands were not taking no for an answer either, and the almost ripped down Derek's boxers as soon as he moved into reach. Rachel's thighs parted greedily almost as soon as he manoeuvred into position. Her fingers played pleadingly with his nipples as he paused above her, just looking down, and then he smiled. What was left of the ice cube went sailing onto the floor, as he irreverently propelled it with a swift gust of air, then he moved closer to her. Flesh burned against flesh once more, and with the barest hesitation he slid into her. She gasped and pushed her head back into the pillow. Waves of pleasure moved through both partners as they moved together in the grip of sexual desire. Their bodies moved in perfect accord, pushing close with desperate physical love, drawing each closer to the moment of total submission. There was no sense of the rest of the world, just skin on skin, passion on passion. Hips gyrated in the oldest dance, and there was no stopping the tempo. Thanks to Derek's tender ministrations, Rachel had been close to the edge when the union began, and she was only able to hold off for so long. As male joined with female she had to give in as with a cry she bucked against him. Her spasms did nothing to detract from her lover's pleasure, in fact they increased it to such a point that he too stepped over the edge. They were beyond caring if anyone could hear them and only the thick oak door prevented their exclamations of pleasure from spreading throughout the castle. They remained locked together, breathing hard and staring into each other's eyes. "God, that was worth waiting for," was Rachel's breathless comment. Derek just smiled his enigmatic smile and kissed her. End of Part 17 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 18 The night stretched into early morning quite peacefully for the San Francisco Legacy house. It was only as the sun slowly began to appear over the horizon that the calm was shattered. The event which occurred woke every last sleeper in the castle, and bed clothes flew as more than one confused mind lurched for consciousness. Rachel was the first out of bed as she followed the instinctive urge that her daughter needed her. The man who had been holding her in his arms only a few moments before did not comment on her reaction, but hurriedly pulled on his clothes, and followed her into the hallway. Further round the house, Philip was half dressed before he realised that he'd even moved. He came to a halt as the buttons on his jeans refused to do up under his frantic fingers. It was only then that he caught sight of Jas staring at him worriedly. There was no question in her face, she knew what was going on, she was just anxious about her lovers stark reaction. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then she moved to join him. Alex and Nick appeared from their rooms at the same moment, both looking rumpled, but very alert. The psychic knew what had woken her, but it was obvious by the expression her companion wore, that he didn't really know why he had so hurriedly climbed into his clothes. "Let's go find the others," was all the female of the two said, and they headed off down the hall. The seven people came together at the top of the stairs. Only Rachel was still in a robe, her instinct to reach her daughter far greater than her need for clothes. It was obvious that Kat had experienced the same clarity of vision as the other three sensitives in the house, and she clung to her mother as if for dear life. "What was *that*?" Nick asked the question that was bothering him. Philip and Alex let Derek provide the answer. "That was the someone trying to destroy the circle at the University," the tall man responded simply. "The fact that we have the box in this house has connected us to it, and in consequence we all seem to have felt it." "Felt it!" Nick was obviously upset by the experience, he wasn't used to events making themselves know in quite such a fundamental way. "That was not what I call a pleasant alarm call." Nobody was arguing with that assessment. "Quite," even Derek agreed, "and I doubt very much if it was without reason." It was obvious that his mind was moving in deeper circles than his ex-SEAL compatriot, and it was mirrored on the faces of those who had seen exactly what had happened. There was going to be trouble, and Derek, Kat, Alex and Philip all knew it all to clearly. The visions of fire were all too close for comfort. "Nick, Philip and Jasmine," the Precept began to make decisions, "go to the University, they're going to need as much help as they can get. Alex and I will move the box to a more secure location." He looked at Rachel for a moment, and the white face of her daughter. "I think Kat may be safer away from here," were his final words. They dispersed quickly, there was no time to waste. ===================================================================== The helicopter was long gone with it's three occupants, and the launch stood ready to take Rachel and Kat back to the mainland, when the first repercussions of the morning's events were felt. The front door didn't so much open as exploded inwards, removing itself from it's top set of hinges completely. The creature which entered through the opening was Guardian, or at least a parody of the entity which Nick had seen in the study room. It's form seemed to be even more amorphous than before, holding to the male shape only for fractions of a second. The dark lines that defined it were ragged and incomplete, flowing into vivid splashes of colour which seemed somehow alien to the creature. It was almost as if it was coming apart at the seams. Rachel and Kat had been about to descend the stairs when the explosion forced them backwards. It took the psychiatrist only a second to grab her daughter's hand and flee back up the corridor towards the control room. Derek and Alex had just moved the box to the basement, but they would make for the technological haven if they could. The war had come to the house. ===================================================================== At the University there was chaos. The police and the fire department were everywhere, searching for the cause of what could only be described as a bomb. The initial outflow of power from the circle when it was attached had shattered windows from one end of the campus to the other. The creature that had raged through the main building after that had left was resembled a battlefield. Thanks to the early hour of the incident no one had been hurt, but the authorities wanted someone to blame for all the destruction. One more helicopter in addition to the police, the traffic radio and the news people was not noticed. Those who knew what had happened all headed for the same place, and thanks to the delays from well meaning police, most of the players reached the pitch at the same time. The Legacy team caught up with Holland hurrying up the hill, and they met Rhyanna and Sam as they reached the clearing. For all those in tune with the area, it hurt to be there, and the younger witch could not hold back her tears at the scene. Two of the trees were completely shattered, attacked by a chain saw they had both been too weak to take the following explosion. There was nothing left of them except ragged stumps and splinters. Each of the other guardian oaks had a raw, glistening patch where their name sigil's should have been. The saboteur had obviously taken to heart the chaos the loss of one symbol had caused and decided to multiply it one hundred fold. The power the trees had knitted together in such beautiful harmony, now wailed about in a heart wrenching cacophony. Yet that was not the most telling sign of what had happened, nor the most pitiful sight to see. At the centre of the circle was a figure. No longer radiant blue, but more a dull glassy colour she lay huddled around the altar stone. Dark, jagged streaks ran down her perfect form, and the wide, white orbs that took the place of eyes, were filled with blackness. "She's dying," Holland voiced what they could all see just as Nick mobile phone decided to ring. Philip's whole being cried out for him to help, but Jasmine's hand was very firm on his arm. The destruction was too great, to try and put right all the damage would undoubtedly kill him. Yet he couldn't stop himself from walking forward to see if he could at least do something. When he saw what was sprayed onto the front of the tree they had been behind his whole body went cold. There on the bark in red spray paint was the sigil the Legacy had been investigating, in two halves. His eyes flicked from the sign to the injured entity and back again as all the pieces fell into place in his mind. He had to try and help, there was no longer any choice. "If she dies," he said to those who had followed him into the circle, "all hell breaks loose, literally." But as he went to move, it was not Jasmine's hand that stopped him, it was Holland's. There was a look of complete certainty on her face as she stepped past him. "You can't help her," she said calmly as she wiped away her tears, "but I can." Slowly, the young woman knelt down beside the crippled being, and looked into it's slowly dulling orbs. All around just watched, and Nick was too busy on the phone to realise what was happening. Holland reached out her hands and placed them on the female's arms, then she gave herself up to it. The only one of them outside the circle nearly dropped his mobile when he heard his girlfriend scream. By the time he made it through the trees he was far too late to stop it, as he too watched, mesmerised as the slight blue glow receded into Holland's skin. The deep gashed of darkness on the entity had become real, although superficial wounds on the witch, and she just knelt there for along time. This was, however, something Philip could deal with, and he moved quickly. Within seconds the injuries were completely gone and Holland was as well as could be expected, of course except that she wasn't exactly Holland anymore. "Thank you," she said quietly as the ex-priest's touch left her. Then she opened her eyes and clear white light was revealed. "I must find him," the peculiar mix of spirit and woman told them all. This time, however, her power was not as great as before and she was confined by a corporal body, she could not just vanish. Nick was looking totally aghast, but her words brought him back to the reality of the situation. This was no time for personal feelings, the problem was much bigger than that. "He's on Angel Island," the ex-SEAL provided quickly, "that was Rachel on the phone, she and Kat are holed up in the control room." "Take me," were the only words which came out of Holland's mouth. ===================================================================== They left Rhyanna and Sam to try and do something about the circle as they piled back into the helicopter and headed towards the castle. As they walked through what had been the front door, they met Alex and Derek in the hallway. The house was surprisingly quiet. "He went this way," the entity was not wasting any time with human niceties, she was completely focused on what had to be done. Even as the Precept of the house stared, she walked straight past him towards the stairs. "Wait," he said as she began to climb, "what can we do?" "Nothing," she responded without pausing. "He is confused, unsure, I must rejoin with him and all will be as it was." The looks that passed between the Legacy members as she disappeared didn't look quite so sure. Philip took the opportunity to explain the conclusions he had made. "The box contains the sigil to bind a demon," he told them rapidly. "The male half of the entity is the destructive power, tamed by the binding, the personification of which is the female half. She channels his energy into being the guardian of the thing which actually keeps him caged. While she exists he probably still feels the pull of that, which is why he's come here." Derek did not look surprised as he realised the logical course of thought that had brought Philip to his rationalisation. He also chose to agree. "I think our best course of action may be to leave," the Precept decided quickly, "and to take the artefact with us." "Rachel and Kat are in the control room," Nick provided helpfully, "I'll go and get them." The ex-SEAL desperately needed something to keep him occupied, or he knew he was going to do something stupid. "We all will," Derek put in rapidly, "I do not want the group split up. We'll collect the box last. Guardian seems confused as to where it is, if we move it, that might change." Nobody disagreed and they all piled up the stairs very quietly. ===================================================================== The look on Rachel's face said she was thanking every deity in heaven when the rest of the Legacy members appeared. Her relief was almost tangible. "We're leaving," was all Derek said as he rapidly typed some commands at the master terminal. The plan might have been to make sure there were no people left to witness what going to happen, but the security system would hopefully do that for them. It was Nick who found he had to ask a question. "What about Holland?" it was obvious that he was holding back the anger which always threatened him when he felt powerless in a situation. The ex-SEAL already knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. The expression on the faces around him could have told him if he needed to be sure, but Derek spoke anyway. "She must have known what she was doing," Philip had given his superior a very quick run down of what had happened at the circle on the way to the control room, "we have to leave her behind. If everything goes to plan she'll be here when we come back, if not there is nothing we can do for her and we are no good to anyone trapped here. If we can get the binding away from here we may have a chance at helping her cause." For once in his life Nick did not comment, he just turned back to the entrance, his pain written on his face. Very soon they all walked through the hologram, for what could be the last time, resolute in what they had to do. It was as they were about to leave the library that Philip realised they didn't have the book, it had been placed back on the shelf. With a quick word to his companions he hurried over to pick it up. He was facing away from the door when it opened with an almighty crash, but he didn't have to be psychic to know what had entered the room. Every person in the library froze. The deep black holes in what was sometimes a head, fixed each of them under it's gaze. It power had grown, and it seemed to have found a taste for games as it held all the humans in it's thrall. Derek was the closest and the creature almost glided towards him. As he looked into it's eyes the Precept felt it reach for his mind. It wanted his knowledge, and after a fearful second he knew it wanted his soul. This being was closer to the demon it had once been than it was to the entity the had been Guardian, and it revelled in it's power. Only Derek and Alex knew where the box actually was, and the head of the house knew he had to keep that information away from the invader. He threw up every mental trick he knew as the energy raged through his mind. He would have cried out if he could, but every muscle was held immobile, only his thoughts gave him any protection. Then, just as it could have touched him, the entity paused, it's attention drawn away by someone just behind Derek. What the precept could not see was the fire in Nick's eyes as he looked at the beast, the pure hatred that radiated through his soul. The ex-SEAL's anger was what had distracted Guardian, it burned more brightly than anything else in the room. The half demon liked anger, it could use it. In a flash the burning radiance was gone, straight into Nick, who began to laugh like a mad thing. The creature's power was still in the room, but it seemed more interested in the body it had just taken over, freeing the others from their paralysis. Yet, there was nothing they could do. Alex tried, but even as she moved to try and help her friend, it just looked at her with cold back orbs, and threw her across the room with the power of it's mind. The laugh was mocking them, and it seemed to go on and on, never ceasing. The noise clawed at them, daring each of them to try anything, spiralling from deep chuckles to hysterical pitch ... and then it just stopped. One second there was sound, the next the entity had lost interest in it's triad completely. The expression on Nick's face was one of shock which evolved into malicious pleasure. It no longer remotely cared about it's human victims, it had found something in Nick's mind that gave it far more interesting things to do. "She's here," it said, and ignoring all else, ran for the door. The remaining Legacy members were left to put themselves back together. Jasmine helped Alex off the floor while Rachel juggled a terrified Kat, and a less than one hundred percent Derek. The last person in the room would have tried to help as well, except at that moment he was totally overcome by a vision. The book he was carrying dropped onto the table with a heavy thud as images he did not want to see flooded through his mind. "Oh, sweet Jesus," he said as the ideas piled into his thoughts, "he's going to kill her ... he knows." That brought even Derek back to his senses, but Philip wasn't finished yet. "And there's someone else here ... the cause of all this," the ex- priest struggled to push the vision to the back of his mind and regain control, "they're going after the box." What no-body in the room could know was that they were too late to prevent that as a dark figure moved up the hallway. The saboteur had already been in the basement, it had seen Derek and Alex take the box down, and now it was just waiting for the entity to find the key to ending it's imprisonment. Philip's mind threw up one last image, that of an altar cloth adorned with the sigil, torn in two, and he knew what he had to do. "I can buy us some time," he said with complete certainty, "but the binding must be recast." Without another word he ran out of the room, towards where he knew his Precept had taken the artefact. After only a moments hesitation, and a quick glance at Alex, Jasmine followed her lover. The young looking woman didn't know if there was anything she could do, but she had to be with him. Neither had time to notice the robed figure which lurked outside the door. The other three adults were left with the book, and a task the *had* to complete. There was no time to waste, and Derek pushed away the headache that threatened to burst his skull and picked up the book. The relevant page was marked and it didn't take him long to find the section. End of Part 18 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 19 Guardian had been all over the top of the house and the entity inside Holland had no way to know exactly where he was. She was inside one of the bedrooms, investigating the upturned chest of draws when he made himself known. As he entered the room at a slow walk, she turned and looked at him, then she smiled. "Come beloved," she said and opened her arms, "it's time to go home." He just began to laugh. ===================================================================== The scene at the bottom of the cellar steps was enough to stop even Philip's hurried flight. The saboteur had been busy whilst they had been upstairs and the basement bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the ex-priest's vision. The altar was a block of stone from an old archaeological did, and two burning candles were stood on two different sized candle sticks, but the cloth that covered the granite was all too familiar. The box from the coven lay open and discarded on the floor, it was no longer of any importance. The piece of linen which it had hidden for centuries was plain for all the world to see. As Jasmine came to a halt behind her lover, what was all the more obvious was the fact the cloth was splitting in two from one end, and it was taking the granite beneath with it. "I think I can slow it down," Philip said, all his confidence leaving him as he surveyed the problem. As if to spite him, there was a tearing sound as another centimetre of the fabric gave way, succeeded by a grinding as the altar followed suit. Jasmine thought she heard Philip whisper a prayer as her walked forward, but she could do nothing to help him. Almost like a condemned man before the gas chamber, he knelt down, and taking a deep breath he placed one had on each side of the divide. It was like being cleaved in two, as forces he could not hope to contend with tore away from each other. He could not heal this, he was not even sure he could hold it. It was beyond agony as the energies played with his very being, but with all his strength he willed them to be united. All Jasmine saw was the heart wrenching sob that the effort drew from her lover. She could almost feel his pain, and yet all she could do was watch. ===================================================================== Derek was halfway down the first page when he heard Rachel gasp. The Precept looked up to find himself on the wrong end of a gun. The robed intruder had pulled back his hood, it was James Moulton, a thirty-something coven member, and probably the most unlikely culprit. Alex could barely believe she was seeing the same man she had spoken to previously. He had been the sweetest, kindest, most helpful person, which was very different from the smug faced man with a gun that now stared at her. "Don't look so shocked, Ms Moreau," he said with a broad smile, "I have two distinct personalities. You met nice James, I've crafted him since I was a child, ever since I realised that my true nature made people nervous. He's very useful when people like you and Rhyanna play mind games." He turned his manic smile towards Derek. "You won't be needing that, Dr Rayne" he continued and waved the gun at the book. "When I saw that you knew about the sigil I thought you'd try something like this, so I decided to be here. The destruction will be something to see: the power of hell unleashed." "And you really think that you'll survive that?" the Precept decided to try a little logic. James just raised an eyebrow. "I don't much care," he said calmly, "I was born to serve the darkness, and that is what I shall do. I'm quite enjoying myself to tell you the truth. Now be a good prisoner and step away from the table." He seemed quite rational, but it was quite obvious he was out of his mind. "Do you know ..." Derek started, he had no choice but to try and talk his way out of the situation. It was the wrong thing to do. With absolutely no warning, James lowered the gun slightly and fired. He didn't even blink. The shot caught Derek in the abdomen and threw him backwards like a rag doll. "No!" Rachel cried and went to her lover's aid. Alex just grabbed Kat's hand and made a dive for the hologram wall. A shot followed them, but the emergency door close shut them inside before another could be fired. There was, however, just a chance that the door might be opened again, so the young woman fled for Derek's office, and the tunnels to the outside, dragging a voiceless Kat behind her. Rachel knelt on the floor, her lover's head in her lap. The fall had knocked Derek cold, which left her alone with a madman. Even with all her years of training she could not hold back the tears. "Why?" she demanded almost hysterically. "Because I've always wanted to do that," was the calm reply. ===================================================================== The look on Holland's face turned from one of calm acceptance to one of fear, as the entity realised that she could no longer control her other half. "My turn," Guardian said with Nick's voice. "Time to pay for the centuries of bondage." "Beloved?" there was pure terror in the witch's voice as the awakening demon stalked her slowly. ===================================================================== "I heard about the coven when I was nineteen," James had taken Rachel's question to mean that he could tell her his life story, "and I thought it would be amusing to play with the white witches. I even managed to manipulate one into killing herself a few years ago," he seemed very proud of this fact. "There I was, nice little James, wouldn't hurt a fly, and they couldn't even see what I was doing to them. When I began to investigate the box I was most pleased to find out it's potential." The doctor was all but ignoring him, she was more interested in preventing the flow of blood from the hole in Derek. He was still out cold, but that didn't stop his body pumping it's life into a growing stain on his shirt. The only thing Rachel had to hand was a handkerchief she had slipped into her pocket that morning, and it was gradually turning deep red as she pressed it against the wound. The only thing she had to be thankful for was the fact that Alex had escaped with Kat. The rest of her mind was taken up by the desperate realisation that she had to get Derek to a hospital soon or he was going to die. Stomach wounds took longer to kill than a straight shot to the heart, but he was going to bleed to death if something wasn't done. She wanted to scream as the mundane tone in James' voice as he just talked, and it took every ounce of will power she had not to fly at him. "I've always enjoyed playing with people," there could be no rationalisation of the cold hearted man, he was just evil. "My sister's in a mental home," he laughed, "I scared her silly. Of course everyone else thinks she was just unstable and an attack by a burglar sent her over the edge. But then again, I don't think anyone would be particularly surprised to find out what I am, demon worship runs in the family." Derek chose that moment to stir, and Rachel put her hand over his mouth to make sure he didn't distract James. In his own reverie, the gunman was a lot less likely to start shooting again. The psychiatrist just stared into her lover's eyes and prayed he understood. The precept was seeing the world through a haze of pain, but he knew the look in his companion's eyes. He gritted his teeth and held her hand. "The box is older than anyone thinks," James either had not, or chose not to notice the fact that his victim was awake, "it's actually second century Asian in origin. Some holy men trapped a very powerful demon with their spells. Easy to find out when you know who to ask. Turning it into it's own keeper was an interesting trick, but of course it makes the undoing all that more spectacular. Twelve hundred years of power, all about to be let go at the same time. You have to admit it's an amazing thought." ===================================================================== Nick had backed Holland into a corner and was taking great delight in just standing in front of her, staring right into her eyes. "Afraid?" the awakening demon asked in a terrible whisper. His hand snaked out with unnatural speed and his fingers closed around her throat. They didn't squeeze, they just held her, threatening to cut off life. ===================================================================== "It's incredible to think that ..." James did not seem to realise he had dropped into a psychotic monologue. He took a breath to go on when a piercing scream cut through the whole castle. It could have made blood freeze, and it brought a victorious smile to the gunman's face. "You loose," he said with an unhealthy amount of glee. ===================================================================== The sound echoing through the halls made Jasmine look up as her soul trembled. This was wrong, it was not meant to be like this. It couldn't end, not so soon. A stifled gasp and the crack of granite brought her attention back to the basement and despair threatened to overwhelm her. Philip had managed to slow down the division of the sigil, but he could not stop it, and there were only millimetres of cloth left. There had to be something she could do, something to help. She was watching the man she loved fighting for his life and all those of the others in the house. If he failed before Derek could redo the bonding, they were all lost. In the end it was a groan of agony from Philip that made her move. She had no power to wield, no magic wand, but she had every emotion in her body. With total dedication she threw herself down behind him, wound her arms around his body, and sent every ounce of love, of caring, of sexual desire, of happiness, of joy, that she could muster, through their telepathic connection. The agony intensified in Philip's nerves as the emotion poured into him, but it did not take away his strength. The feelings found their kin in him as the raw passion carved it's way through his soul. This was the essence of human existence and it changed what he was trying to do. For the first time since he had touched the cloth, Philip opened his eyes, and they glowed red. ===================================================================== The crumpled form in the corner of the room had nothing left to fight with. When she had realised that there was no hope she had thrown every last measure of power she had at her attacker, and it had just flowed over him. The creature in Nick had picked her up and thrown her across the room in a fit of anger. Holland just lay where she had fallen, the human and spirit alike, waiting for the end. It was incredible, even for the supernatural entity, when a force that could never have been resisted surged into her. Just a passenger in her own body, Holland suddenly found that something took hold of parts of her being and threw them to the surface. The living thing which looked up from the floor was neither the female spirit, nor the human witch, she was both, and she looked on the world with an entirely new perspective. When she looked at the creature that was her enemy, she did not feel the hurt or the defeat, she felt desire. Guardian was frozen where he stood as a battle raged within him. The demon found his hatred and rage overlaid with alien emotions, and the body he had taken was overcome with some confusing sensations. These new experiences were all encompassing and they threatened to eclipse the purpose which had been so foremost in his mind. There were parts of another existence being thrown upon him, and Guardian did not like that. He fought to push them aside, but the human had powerful chemical messages which the demon had accepted when he stole possession of the form. There was no winning a battle that was already nearly over, and with a dark eyed glare Guardian became something not tame, but not spawn of hell either. This new being was taken by wild urges his human half urged him to follow, and his demon half did not really understand. He stared at his enemy with black eyes that sparked red at the centre. Holland climbed to her feet slowly, knowing with a strange double sense that the feelings she felt were for Nick, and yet that the other mind that was now part of hers, in a strange way, loved the abomination that resided in his body. He looked almost confused standing there in the centre of the room, and the air of danger about him just excited her more. The female walked up to the male, the circumstances didn't matter, the past, the present, the future: all were irrelevant now. The only thing that was of any interest was him. "Beloved," she said, and this time there was no question in her voice. End of Part 19 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 20 The witch was beautiful and she filled Nick's senses. The human part of him was just enough to instil real human desire, but he had no sense of the morality which would have prevented what happened next. With untamed demonic force he reached out and took what he wanted. The light blouse Holland was wearing put up little fight when strong hands grabbed it and simply ripped it in two. She had nothing on underneath, but this did not seem to bother her in the slightest. In fact, as his arms gripped her, she went to their rough embrace eagerly. Neither creature was what could be considered a civilised entity, and the frenzy of passion which ensued was almost like a battle. Finger nails raked down Holland's back leaving long red streaks and she just pressed closer to him, revelling in any touch. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and she pulled desperately at his shirt where it was tucked into his jeans. Biting the shoulder she managed to reveal by ripping off the buttons, and drawing blood seemed to excite her partner rather than hurt him. As he pulled her head back by the hair and covered her mouth in a desperate kiss, she abandoned the floor and fastened her legs around his waist. Her skirt was long and full, and Nick ran a hand up under it over the bare, shapely leg. At this point Holland gave up on the conventional way to remove her partner's shirt and took the more direct route he had instigated. With unnatural strength combined with unbridled lust she ripped it apart at the seams, leaving Nick in nothing but tatters. She gave him a few welts to match those he had inflicted on her. With deliberate steps he walked towards the bed, and taking her arms from around his neck, threw her down onto it's sheets. He was like a conqueror staring down at the slain, and she just looked back at him from under long lashes. There was deliberate violence in his movement as he knelt on the bed, the energies of a demon channelled through human needs. The urge to dominate was still with him, but this did not seem to upset his companion. She watched as he took her skirt in either hand, and slowly tore it right up the middle, throwing the two halves to either side when he reached the waistband. Holland had switched roles from the spitting hell cat, to submissive victim, and she just lay there, playing his game exactly the way he wanted it. There was almost a calculated plan being executed on the woman's part as the power inside her pushed her on with far more ease than it did her lover. Whatever he wanted she would give him, and he wanted the conquered she-devil. She let her eyes burn with the passion in her soul, and added just a hint of resentment to egg him on. The hand that clasped her leg was not exactly gentle, but as it moved slowly upwards it sent shivers of delight through her body anyway. She moaned and gave him all the access he wanted as he reached her inner thigh. There was only one obstacle remaining from her position, and the small blue panties did not last very long as Nick took hold of them and destroyed them. He did not rip them, he did not tear them, just one second they were whole, and the next, cold fire had reduced them to nothing. He knelt between her knees, master of all he surveyed, revelling in his power. His prey's chest moved in rapid burst as she lay there waiting, expecting him to move, desperate for his next touch. Tiny beads of perspiration ran across her body in the hot, electric atmosphere. He wanted her, and she was more than ready to give. Holland watched as he slowly reached for the belt of his jeans, releasing the buckle with quick fingers, and pulling the leather free with one hand. The demon-man leaned forward then, running the leather across her body, making her sing to his tune. The he moved back again, dropping the belt to one side, and freed the buttons on his trousers. In the hurry to dress that morning, Nick hadn't bothered with underwear. He positioned himself above her, strong arms holding him just that centimetre away from her. They were nose to nose, and he stared into the white hot depths of his conquest's eyes. At their core there blazed a fire of a different colour, and she placed a hand on each of his shoulders. He smiled a wicked smile, and then he plunged into her with all his strength. She cried out, arching her back at the sensation. Denim rubbed against the sensitive flesh of her inner leg, but she wanted more of him. As he pushed against her, she thrust right on back, pulling him as close as was physically possible. When he withdrew slightly she even made a small noise of complaint until he sunk himself into her again, more deeply than before. It was half human mating, half gladiatorial battle as two bodies gyrated against each other, each reaching for their own goal. Moans of pleasure escaped both mouths, and muscles strained with muscles, supernatural strength only adding to the fray. Blood was drawn, but went unheeded as Holland's finger nails dug into Nick's flesh. They were one inseparable creature, writhing in physical sensation. Time after time they moved together, almost as if one half were trying to devour the other. With each thrust they moved closer to their ultimate goal, and finally it happened. Nick came first in a spasm of complete ecstasy, but it was not just his seed which spilled from his body into Holland's. An essence flooded into the witch, the essence of a demon, and as she was taken by the power of an orgasm, the presence joined with the force inside her. Both human's cried out as they were chained together in sensation that just went on, and on. Physical completion continued as two entities used it to combine into one being, stepping beyond boundaries set by nature. An explosion of light from between the couple pushed them apart slightly. Nick remained poise at arms length, his mind slowly returning to his own control and beginning to understand what had happened. He watched, still locked to his lover, but his own experience subsiding, as she pushed off the bed, back arching as energy flowed out of her abdomen. Her body shook uncontrollably, and she screamed for the third time that day, as a new creature was born. As the light left her she slowly relaxed back onto the bed, and then she finally opened her green eyes and looked up at Nick. Holland reached up and touched his face that was slowly forming into a horrified expression. Then she smiled and quite gracefully passed out. The ex-SEAL had just enough time to push himself off her onto the bed, glance over at what appeared to be a shapeless blob of white and blue light, before his body also decided it had had quite enough and shut down. ===================================================================== Something came back at Philip through his contact with the sigil. He had lost any sense of time, or reality soon after Jas had joined him. His eyes were open, but they didn't see, and his mind had been acting on pure instinct for quite some time. There was what would have been a blinding flash, if he'd noticed it, and a force that bodily threw him backwards, along with his lover. The pair landed in an untidy pile at the foot of the stairs, neither stirring from grateful blackness. ===================================================================== In the library there was a tense waiting game going on. They had all heard the scream, and they all expected something to happen. The problem was it had been a good few minutes and there were no signs that anything had broken free from anywhere. This was making James nervous, and his monologue had degenerated into a fitful silence. Rachel was beginning to wish that hell would turn up and save them all the anxiety, when there was yet another scream, even more piercing than the first. Their captor saw this as the final victory, and his attention was thankfully drawn away from his victims. His waiting was over when the doorway filled with a subdued bluish glow. Derek and the psychiatrist looked at each other in confusion, it was definitely not what they expected of a demon. It was tall, over six feet, and appeared to be broad to go with it. There was, however, an air about it which defied anyone to define it's sex. It was large like a man, but somehow there was a feminine curve to it's body, and yet no definite shapes to confirm the gender. It glowed a gentle blue, and yet it looked on the world with deep black slits. At last, Rachel began to hope. James on the other hand did not seem to quite know what to do. He sharp mind had come to the conclusion that something had definitely gone wrong, but he had no rationale to cope with this, especially when the creature turned and looked at him. He fired wildly, suddenly afraid and it just stood there. Then, slowly it walked towards him. The terror was written all over his body, and yet the insane warlock could not move. Rachel just watched as the entity gently reached out and put it's arms around the voiceless man. It was almost a loving embrace and James looked up into that dark gaze, relaxing into the hold like a lost child. Slowly a look of realisation seemed to dawn on his features and he laid his head on the creature's shoulder. Without a sound he dissolved, almost as if he'd never existed before. All the psychiatrist could do was let out a disbelieving gasp, and hold tightly to the weakening grip of Derek's hand. Maybe they were saved, but she could not push aside the terror as the entity turned towards them both. Tears appeared in her eyes once again, and she could say nothing as the beautiful being walked towards them. Was this just some huge joke, that such grace could house evil. There was no understanding the black depths of it's eyes, and it's facelessness gave it an alien, terrifying quality. Derek for his part gazed on it with calm, half closed eyes. The precept was beyond wondering what it was, or how this would end, his fevered mind was just captivated by it's beauty. The saviour had come too late, he was dying, and he knew it. A trembling took hold of Rachel's body as the entity reached out to her, but all it did was brush away one of her tears. It crouched down slowly, always looking at her face, turning it's head from one side to the other, watching her. She didn't know what to do faced with such a being. Eventually it turned it's seemingly all seeing eyes away from her and down towards Derek, who was still gazing, captivated by an angel. It put one of it's hands on his cheek, and remained frozen like that for a moment. Rachel would have said that something was passing between the two, but she could not say what. Then the hand moved downwards and calmly removed her hand where it was still clamped to the Precept's side. It placed it's own fingers over the wound and they glowed brighter for a moment. When it withdrew it's touch the bullet hole was gone, there was not even the slightest trace of it left at all. Derek looked up at the being with a much stronger gaze. He could not remember what he had seen in those dark depths, but he would remember that face for ever. It stood with it's habitual elegance, stepped away from them slightly, and vanished. Rachel couldn't help it, she began to cry uncontrollably as the man she loved slowly sat up. ===================================================================== The boathouse was quiet except for the loud breathing of two people trying to be silent, but failing because they were so afraid. Kat cried silently in Alex's arms where they huddled behind a door. They had run for the launch, but it was floating over one hundred yards out to see. Someone had set it adrift and there was no other way off the island except the helicopter. Without Nick, the bird was useless, and the fugitives had hidden themselves as best they could. The screams from the house had been loud enough to reach them through the many open windows, and they could only imagine what was going on inside. Alex Moreau was not a woman who could ever be accused of cowardice, but she could not bring herself to try anything else. She and Kat were safe where they were and the future would bring whatever it saw fit. They would stay here until something came for them, or help arrived, either way, she had made up her mind they were not going anywhere. Even the day was overcast as the sun hid herself from the terrible work below. For all Alex knew everyone inside was dead, all her friends, her surrogate family. Dreadful thoughts of macabre deaths and lonely ends filled her mind. Just the atmosphere of the island was enough to send her almost mad. Then suddenly, as if someone had just lifted a veil, the sun came out and the oppression left her. It was like a light entering a darkened room, and easing the fear of a frightened child, like a knight in shining armour slaying the dragon and rescuing the damsel. Kat felt it as well, because her silent sobs stopped almost instantly, and her head turned from where it was buried in Alex's shoulder. They glanced at each other as if they both wanted reassurance, and then slowly, of one accord, they crawled out of their hiding place. The house stood as they had left it, no fire, no broken windows, nothing to indicate that Armageddon had occurred. A figure appeared on the doorstep, and there was no holding Kat. "Mom!" she cried, and ran towards Rachel as if her life depended upon it. Alex just stood in the doorway of the boathouse, unable to believe it as she saw Derek's tall frame standing behind the psychiatrist. They were looking at the world, as amazed as she to still be alive. Slowly she began to walk towards them, gradually speeding up as she began to comprehend that they had survived. Soon she was running faster than Kat and made it to the group just behind the girl. ===================================================================== When they found Philip he had managed to turn himself onto his front and he was trying to stand up, barely making it as far as his knees. He mumbled something about the sigil when Derek went to help him, but he was not even remotely coherent enough to be understood. The Precept himself, quite surprisingly, had never felt better in his life, and he had no problem helping his friend up the stairs as Rachel and Alex each took one of Jasmine's arms. They'd soon discovered that every phone, including all the mobiles were out of action. The main lines were down for some unfathomable reason, and every battery on the island was flat, there was no way off until the public ferry arrived. Since it was still only seven o'clock in the morning, the three conscious adults put there less than compus mentis colleagues to bed. It didn't take long, and given the opportunity, Philip was sound asleep in his own bed in seconds. Alex and Derek, left Rachel to make sure that the young couple were of sound body, and went to find Nick and Holland. The pair of psychics went from room to room systematically, glancing inside and then moving on to the next. It was Alex who first looked into her room and saw the devastation, at the centre of which lay the two for whom they were searching. The pair looked like the babes in the wood, curled together with Alex's top sheet roughly pulled over them. The searchers looked at each other as they surveyed the area, and gradually made their way in, stepping over pieces of what had been the researcher's furniture. She bent down and picked up one half of Holland's blouse from where it had fallen. The expression on her face said she didn't quite know what to make of it. Derek, meanwhile, had reached the side of the bed and gazed down at his associate and companion. There was a bruise beginning to appear on Holland's cheek, where she had hit the wall, and the scratches on both individuals could be seen in various places. The pair looked like they'd been dragged through a very vicious hedge and come off worse. Nick's arms were wound protectively around his sleeping partner, and she was snuggled closely to his side, which belied the fact that there was blood under both sets of fingernails. "Looks like they had an interesting encounter," was Alex's comment as she joined her mentor next to the bed. "Interesting *and* violent," Derek pointed out. "It may be better if they weren't both still here when they regain their senses." His companion had to admit that the current scene could make for an awkward situation when the heat of battle had completely worn off. "Well if we can get Nick back to his own room, Holland can stay here, and I'll try to move some of this mess so it doesn't look quite such chaos," she suggested helpfully. Neither one was expecting much sense out of their friends as Derek accepted the plan of action, but it was worth a try. The Precept gently shook his young colleague by the shoulder. "Nick," he said quietly, "time to move." At first the only response visible was the ex-SEAL shifting his shoulder out of the grip. He was in no real state to wake up, so his superior tried again. "Nick," he started, "you can't sleep here." With a slightly more insistent shake there was finally some indication of consciousness. The young man turned his head slightly and after a few seconds actually opened his eyes. How much of what he saw he comprehended seemed to be very little, but at least he was half sentient. "We have to get you to your own bed," Derek continued to talk, hoping that some of his words would get through. He attempted to pry Nick's hand from the grip it maintained on Holland's arm, and he received a very disgruntled noise for his trouble. "She'll be fine," the soothing tones of Alex's voice seemed to have some effect and the young man slowly allowed himself to be extracted from the bed. There wasn't much doubt as to what had been going on between the couple, but the compus mentis Legacy members chose not to trouble themselves with that just yet. What was important was to make sure their friends were safe and comfortable. Derek half walked, half carried Nick to his room whilst Alex saw to Holland. The young woman seemed to be about as unhappy to have lost her companion as he had been to leave, but she did not wake for more than a second. It was as the Legacy operative was gentle moving the young witch fully under the covers that she discovered the beer bottle bottom, sized mark just above her navel. It was pale, only just below Holland's normal skin tone, and it was an exact copy of the sigil they had tried so hard to understand. The woman covered her charge quickly and then went to find Derek. The Precept had just removed Nick's shoes and decided that he'd never be able to get the jeans off, when Alex walked in. "Holland's sound asleep again," she said evenly, and went to help her superior move their friend into his own bed. "Um, I found something when I covered her up." It was as Derek removed what was left of the ex-SEAL's shirt that the woman stopped talking. There, just to the right of Nick's chest flanked by the pale scars caused by his previous brush with death, was the exact same mark she had found on the witch. "Something like that," Derek concluded as he saw the look on his companion's face. She just nodded and continued to manoeuvre her friend under the covers. The ex-SEAL had long since abandoned himself to oblivion, and his colleagues finished what they were doing in silence. End of Part 20 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 21 Rachel declared that all casualties were suffering from nothing more than exhaustion, cuts and bruises, so it was decided that calling in the paramedics would be an overreaction. Hence, those in a fit state left their friends to sleep and tried to come to terms with what had happened. It wasn't easy, but with the arrival of the daytime staff, and the sudden, unexplained return of the telephones, they managed somehow. They had little idea of what exactly had happened, but there was enough physical evidence to suggest the truth, and the three adults did a great deal of talking. Kat for her part remained strangely silent, but she did tuck into any and all food offered to her, so no one was too worried. As soon as the phone lines came back up they received an excited call from Rhyanna. It seemed that something remarkable had happened at the circle. At the exact same moment the new entity had disappeared from the Legacy house, the damaged trees had gone through a remarkable generation. Nothing could have saved the two that were destroyed, but those which had had their name designs removed were whole again. This news even managed to raise a smile from Kat. It was a little after lunch when Alex decided there had been enough talking and she needed to do something. Banging around in her own room seemed like a bad idea, so she began to tidy the hallway outside where Guardian had overturned furniture. She'd just placed a broken chair in a black sack when the sound of a door opening distracted her. The expression on her face was a picture when she saw that it was her bedroom door which had made the sound, and Holland was standing there as naked as the day she was born. The young witch didn't even seem to notice the psychic, she just calmly walked down the corridor to Nick's room and went in. Now some urges are irresistible, and Alex just had to see what was going on. Holland didn't seem to care about leaving the doors she passed through wide open, and the Legacy member made it to the gap to see the witch reach the bed where Nick was sleeping. The woman lifted the cover in one hand and quite slowly, climbed in. Her bed companion moved to let her lie down and wrapped her in his arms before they both lay still, obviously totally asleep again. Alex just closed the door quietly and decided not to think about it too closely. Rachel wandered down the hall about half an hour later, a smile on her face. She'd just been to check on Philip and Jasmine and she obviously found something amusing. She went to go into Alex's room when she noticed the door was already opened. "They're both in there," the psychic offered helpfully and indicated Nick's room. "Them too," Rachel observed with a grin. "I was just making sure Jasmine was okay and Philip walked right into the room and climbed into the bed. He didn't seem to even notice me." Alex had to smile back. "I'm glad it's not just me who's suddenly invisible," she said lightly. "It's not everyday you see naked women wandering around these halls." "At least Philip had some clothes on," her companion returned with a laugh. ===================================================================== It was just before dinner that the first of the sleepers finally emerged. Derek, Alex, Rachel and Kat had just moved into the dining room when Philip appeared round the corner. He looked somewhat ragged around the edges, but at least he was awake. "Welcome back to the world of the living," Derek greeted as his friend sat down, "feeling better?" "Well I think I could sleep for a week," the ex-Priest returned in his gentle Irish lilt, "but it was a battle between that and my stomach. Hunger won out." The young man retained dark patches under his eyes, but his tone was cheerful enough. When it came time to serve, however, everyone told him to stay put and just passed him his plate. It was as the group began to eat that it became clear there was some confusion as to what exactly had happened that morning. "Sorry if this isn't the time," Philip started slowly, "but I'm curious, how did you recast the binding spell?" Everyone looked at him as one. He stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth as he noticed the scrutiny. "We didn't," Derek explained, "we assumed you had something to do with it, along with Nick and Holland." Now Philip's memory of events was a little patchy, all he recalled clearly was the initial push to prevent the sigil from cleaving in two. The admission from the others brought a vague thought to the surface of his mind, something to do with Jasmine. He frowned slightly, trying to bring more of the memory to the front of his ruminations. "What happened after we left?" he asked finally, hoping that something would jog his memory. The other three adults gladly explained their part in the proceedings. The appearance of Guardian, Nick's possession, the shooting, James, and then the appearance of the new being. Their companion listened in silence, but there wasn't anything that seemed to help. "I'm very hazy on just about everything," the ex-priest admitted as he was filled in on the second side of the story, "I remember going down to the basement and trying to slow down the division, but after that I get very vague." "Don't worry," Rachel said with a smile and patted the back of his hand, "it'll probably come back to you later. I don't suppose you remember your walk to Jasmine's room either, and after we tucked you up in your own so nicely." She couldn't resist it, and she and Alex grinned at each other as Philip went a beautiful shade of pink. Even Derek couldn't contain his smile, the ex-priest did embarrassment so well. He'd had to face innuendoes ever since it became obvious that he and Jasmine were sleeping together, but this rather put the icing on the cake. "Oh," was all he started to say, and then his cheeks coloured even more as a memory surfaced. The reference had jogged his muddled thoughts and he suddenly recalled some of the very impure ideas that had been going through his mind that morning. A snapshot of the whole tidal wave that had happened formed in his mind and he couldn't help but be a little hot and bothered. The others were looking at him expectantly, and his eyes flicked to Kat. "I'll explain later," he said, and tried to concentrate on his food. He and Derek disappeared soon after the meal was over and they only resurfaced half an hour after that. Now the Precept was beginning to get a fuller picture, and things were becoming clear. They sat down in the living room and firmly turned the conversation away from the morning's activities which would be saved for another time. The high back chairs were very comfortable which turned out to be Philip's downfall. Within five minutes of sitting in one he was asleep again. Alex woe him with a gentle nudge and suggested he go back to bed, he didn't argue. ===================================================================== Nick woke very suddenly, something had moved beside him, something warm and soft. His eyes shot opened and looked to the right, Holland smiled at him. "Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to wake you, it's just that my arm has gone to sleep." The ex-SEAL just looked at her as his thoughts feel over themselves to explain this. He moved slightly and the fact that he was wearing jeans in bed made itself apparent. Everything fell into place, the circle, the library, the bedroom. The bit between the library and the bedroom was a blank, but he definitely remembered the bedroom. He sat up rapidly as the memory of thoughts that weren't quite his raced through his mind. He recalled what he'd done and how he had done it: he was appalled. "Nick," Holland's voice was gentle and reassuring as her arms snaked around him from behind, "it's all right." She knew exactly what was going through his head, it was written in every muscle of his body. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let go. "No," she said, "you can't leave. If you get out of this bed now, you'll never get back into one with me, I can feel it. I don't want that." Her words stopped him, she was right. There was part of him that loved her dearly and was thrilled at the closeness of her body, but there was another part that was afraid. Afraid of what he had been when he first touched her, of the way he enjoyed hurting her. "We created a new being," the witch would try anything to keep him, "it was what we were supposed to do. There was no other way, Nick." "But I ..." he started, and turned to face her. "No," she said firmly, "we did it together. Whatever we did, we did it together." He remembered her scream, the blinding light and he couldn't help looking down. He saw the sigil and the pounding of his heart slowed just a little. His hand reached out and touched the sign gently, and Holland knew she had pulled him over one barrier. It was time to break the news. "You have one too," she said quietly, and put her hand on his chest. It was difficult, but as he looked down at himself he could just about see it. "Another scar for the collection," he said in a half resolved tone. "You may have another one to add as well," Holland admitted with an apologetic smile and pointed to his shoulder. The bite marks were obvious in all their glory and Nick had to laugh, or he would have cried. He still couldn't look her straight in the eye, but at least he wasn't trying to run away. "I don't know about you," the witch said with a sly grin, "but I kind of enjoyed myself." The ex-SEAL obviously wasn't sure whether to look totally scandalised or relieved, he eventually went for something somewhere in-between. The fact that his partner had found anything but complete revulsion in the experience was a shock and more than a little weight off his mind. His moral side felt that he had done things that were inexcusable, but the creature he had been when they happened clearly found the events fulfilling and engaging. He was beginning to realise that the same might be true for Holland. When she ran a finger over his chin he finally smiled back at her. It was a tentative smile, but it was real. "I don't know about you," she said shortly afterwards, "but I need a shower and some food. If my stomach makes itself known any louder they'll pick it up on the moon." She kissed him firmly on the lips and then bounced out of bed. "Do you have a robe around here?" she enquired brightly. "I can just see Derek's face if I bump into him in the hall wearing nothing but a smile." "It used to be on the back of the wardrobe door," he told her with a grin that just wouldn't be held back, "but looking at this room it could be anywhere." Guardian had not done quite such a number on Nick's abode as he had on Alex's, but all the draws had been opened and their contents dumped in various places. However, Holland soon found the robe under her lover's upturned gun box, and slipped it on. "Now," she said with a smile, "where's the bathroom?" ===================================================================== Nick's plan was to sneak down to the kitchen, find something to eat, and hopefully get back to his room without having to talk to anyone. He knew there were going to be questions to answer, and he really didn't want anything to do with them now. Holland, on the other hand, had an entirely different idea about events. The ex-SEAL found himself dragged in the direction of the living room, and he didn't have a chance to object. He at least tried not to look too reticent as the witch led him into the room. It was quite late, and Kat had been put to bed an hour or so previously, leaving the adults to relax by themselves. Everyone, including Alex, looked surprised to see Nick and Holland in the room. "Evening," the witch greeted brightly, "we were just on the way to the kitchen with an attack of the munchies, and thought we'd say hello on the way." She looked a little ridiculous in a pair of Nick's exercise shorts and sweatshirt that were way too big for her, but something about her seemed to glow. Whatever it may have entailed, Holland seemed to have come out very well from her recent experiences. "Well, you're looking surprisingly awake," Alex chose a light note on which to start, "we were going to enter you for the sleeping world record." The banter continued between the two women, but Nick wasn't really listening. There were too many thoughts going around in his head for him to concentrate on much else, and his awkwardness with the situation leant itself to using the barrier to ignore it. Derek had obviously spoken to him more than once by the time he realised that anything had been sent in his direction. "Nick, are you all right?" were the first words that seeped into his mind, and he blinked at his precept as he noticed him. "Ah, yeah," he replied and tried to reign in his rampaging brain, "fine." He didn't elaborate, and all his friends recognised the signs that said he really didn't want to talk about it right now. It was late, there was nothing that could be gained from questions now, so all three seated people, calmly let the matter drop. "If you don't mind the company," Alex changed the subject quickly, "I was thinking of heading down for a snack myself." "Not at all," Holland was not about to let Nick sour her mood, "but I don't guarantee they'll be anything left if I get to the refrigerator first." End of Part 21 ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* ********************************************************************* Part 22 Epilogue It was a fabulous day, the sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and all of nature seemed to be at peace. It had taken a good week to get the Legacy house back in order, and they were still finding pieces of things behind radiators and under furniture. The people, however, were in much better condition. Kat had come out of her silence the day after the incident, and was back to her cheerful self. Philip and Jasmine were what Nick termed `sickeningly happy', and had discovered that they too now bore smaller versions of the sigil they had been trying to save. The ex- priest's mark was just over his heart, and his lover's was in exactly the same place as Holland's. The two women seemed to enjoy this fact. The person who had taken longest to bounce back was Nick, but after the group had talked everything through, and Holland had asked very nicely if she might be allowed to stay around for a while, he had perked up considerably. Derek had quietly asked the witch if she would like to become a member of the Legacy, and the coven sadly let her go when she said yes. All this and more had happened during the week, and the San Francisco Legacy house had been honoured when the SFU coven invited them to be present at the restoration ceremony for the circle. They were all there, Derek, Rachel and Kat between the south westerly trees, Nick with his arms around Holland, one gap round, Alex, Philip and Jasmine one on from that. The other spaces were filled with coven members, and four of their number stood in the centre with two saplings. There were no words in this ceremony, but it was incredibly beautiful as Rhyanna and Sam, Marie and Paul, took their assigned trees, and bonded the new growth into the old. Under their care, and the power of the reborn circle, roots reached out with incredible speed and burrowed into the power source. It would be a long time before these trees were as strong and as large as those they replaced, but even as the small plants touched their new home, pale signs appeared on their bark. They may have been juvenile, but they could channel the same power, and as they bonded completely, even Nick felt something in the surroundings shift. It was quite a profound experience to feel life return to a place, and it left all with the deepest knowledge that everything was back where it should be. More than one person turned to their friends and threw there arms around them. The End