Hellsing Fan Fiction / Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Fire in the Blood ❯ In Search of Fire ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Nagira Shunji glanced down at the packet of cigarettes on his desk. Hanamura, his assistant, had taped an index card onto it, with “DO NOT TOUCH” scrawled on it. In big, forceful, red characters. He sighed.
 
“Look Adrian, if you had shown me the pictures and told me that they were being chased, then I could have told you who they were and where to start looking for them. And who not to tell.”
 
“Yes,” Adrian answered. “I could have. But would you really have told me? You don't strike me as the type to sell out your brother so easily.”
 
Nagira grinned. “Good point.”
 
“And call me Genya while we're talking over the phone.”
 
“Oh come on… Genya. Who could possibly be listening to my phoneline? I'm hardly important enough to bug.” A brown haired girl suddenly peaked around the partition that separated his desk from his assistants'. She waved nervously, her face full of anxious worry. Nagira nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. His guest nodded and sat down in the chair. As she came out from behind the partition, Nagira noticed the symbol on the arm of her jacket.
 
STN-J?
 
“Nagira? Did you hear me?”
 
Nagira shook his head. “Sorry Genya, what were you saying?”
 
“I said that you're more important than you think.”
 
“Please. The operation I run here is minimal. And nobody knows about my involvement with the incident a year back. Too messy.”
 
“At least you have the presence of mind to not say what you were involved with. That's not why you're worth bugging.”
 
“…Ah. The sins of the father come down to visit upon the son?” Nagira said as he sat down.
 
“Believe me, I know how you feel. I, possibly more than anyone else, know how you feel. But you and Amon can't run from it forever.”
 
“Yeah, I know. Hang on a sec.” He put his hand over the phone and leaned over his desk. “Sorry… er, what's your name?”
 
“Belnades,” the girl responded. “Eliza Belnades.”
 
“I'm sorry Eliza. I know I promised Karasuma I'd help you if you needed it. And if you're here, it's probably important, but would you mind waiting out with my assistant until I can finish this call?”
 
“But they're all gone. All of them. The entire team Solomon sent over.”
 
Nagira raised an eyebrow. He took his hand off the cell phone and swiveled around in his chair. “Adrian,” he said, “I don't suppose you would know why there's a young STN-J hunter in my office?”
 
“Well, that depends. What's her name?”
 
“Eliza Belnades.”
 
“…Belnades? Put her on the phone.”
 
Nagira shrugged and handed the phone to Eliza. “It's for you,” he said simply.
 
Eliza took the phone. “Hello?”
 
Nagira swiveled his chair to the side and stared up at the ceiling, trying to block out the conversation the girl was having. If it was important, he figured Adrian would tell him about it when she was done.
 
He was snapped out of his catnap by the sound of a large envelope hitting his desk. He looked up to see Hanamura standing over him. “Napping on the job?” she asked sarcastically.
 
Nagira shrugged and looked down at the manila envelope on his desk. “Where did this come from?” he asked.
 
“Hand delivered by messenger,” she responded. “Speaking of which, we still haven't hired a new one since we lost that girl we were keeping here.”
 
Nagira waved a hand at her vaguely. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I'll get around to it.” He flipped the envelope over, read the return address, briefly wondered why the Denesti's would send him anything, and ripped it open, spilling the contents on to his desk. He glanced down at the photos that were now littering his already messy desk. His eyes widened and he scrabbled for the cigarette carton.
 
“HEY! You're supposed to be quitting!”
 
“That was before I got this package,” Nagira responded.
 
“Mr. Nagira?” Eliza said. “He wants to talk to you.”
 
She handed him the phone. He took and lit his cigarette as he listened to Adrian talk. “Is she really?” he said. “Alright, I understand. I'll look into it with her.” He hung up the phone and turned to Hanamura. “Take this girl out for some lunch. Soba noodles or something. I don't know. I'll talk to you when you get back.”
 
Hanamura and Eliza started shouting at the same time. Nagira massaged his temples. Between the two of them, he could make out Hamanura saying that she wasn't his personal babysitter. He was about to send both of them out when he heard Eliza say something about a “walled city”.
 
“Alright! Alright, I'll take you out to lunch. We'll talk about it there. Just give me a few minutes alone, please.”
 
Hanamura shrugged and led Eliza out of the office, closing the door behind her. He then went to his desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a faded picture. He put in on the desk and compared it to the pictures that were now littering it. He flipped a few of the pictures he had been sent over and read the quickly scrawled notes on the back.
 
“What are you doing alive, dad? What are you doing in London?”
 
 
***
Title
***
 
The Captain stared down at the tourist map. There would never be another chance, so he had decided to see London before it was burnt to cinders.
 
A hand rested itself on his shoulder. His muscles started to react without him even thinking. A calm voice stopped him.
 
“I just thought you'd like lunch before your flight.”
 
The Captain turned around and took quick stock of the man behind him. Graying hair pulled into a ponytail. Glasses. Impressive sideburns. Tan trench coat. Black scarf with inverted pentagrams at the end. Symbols of the Coven.
 
“C'mon,” the man said, patting his abnormally tall companion on the back. “I know a place that actually does a decent curry. Just us two old soldiers.”
 
***
 
“You're hiding something from me,” Julius said, as he sipped at his lemonade.
 
“So are you,” Robin replied, stirring her espresso.
 
“Yes,” Julius responded. “We're all hiding secrets from each other. But I'm talking about something more immediate. Something that pertains to our safety.”
 
“What makes you think we're hiding something like that from you?” Amon asked.
 
“The way you keep looking at each other when you think I'm not watching. And it's not an `Are you alright?' glance. It's a glance of worry and discontent. Something's not right and you're not telling me what it is. Do you not trust me?”
 
“We do only know you as `J',” Amon said.
 
Julius tilted his head to the side. “And I only know you as `Firestarter' and `Hunter'.”
 
Rob in had bee looking down at her espresso while Amon and Julius were staring each other down. She suddenly looked up, extended her hand to Julius, and smiled. “Robin Sena,” she said.
 
Julius accepted her hand. “Julius-” Julius stopped as their drinks started to shake. Water separated from them and started to rise into the air.
 
“I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen,” Julius said.
 
The water rose over their heads and shot over to another table. Along the way, it fragmented into separate streams. The streams flew into a circle of glasses at a neighboring table and filled up three of them.
 
“It's the Orbo,” a voice said behind them.
 
They swiveled around in their chairs to see a group of people sitting around a table. All sported the same symbol some where on their clothing. An inverted pentagram.
 
“What?” Julius asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Amon and Robin staring at the green pendants everyone at the table were wearing.
 
“The Orbo,” a woman sitting at the table answered. She reached into a pocket of her blue jacket and pulled out a pendant with a bright green liquid in it. “It's not supposed to be effective against her. In fact, by all accounts it should be going out of control and we should all be screaming in pain, clutching our heads as the voices overran our mind.” She picked up her empty glass and frowned on it. “But we're not. And that worries them. A lot.”
 
“Sister Lyza?” a man on the woman's left said, shaking his glass and leaning back in his chair.
 
Lyza sighed. “I know. I'll take care of it.” She stood up and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a few coins and started to toss them up and down in her gloved hand. “Che mozo!” A waiter stopped and walked up to her. She stood up and started into his eyes. “I just wished to tell you that the service here is terrible. My friends and I have been waiting for half an hour and we haven't even gotten a glance.”
 
The waiter looked at her quizzically. “Que?”
 
Lyza smirked and held the coins out in front of him. “Still, I always believed that those who don't tip shouldn't eat out. Here you go.” She brought her other hand around and punched him in the gut. The man bent over to meet the hand with the coins in it, which slammed into his chest. He went flying backwards into a wall, where he slumped to the floor.
 
The waiter looked up to see Lyza slowly walking towards him. The other patrons of the watched in morbid fascination, too frightened by the special effects with the water to act.
 
Lyza pinned the waiter to the floor and glared at him. Her eyes turned the same light blue as her jacket.
 
The waiter screamed in agony as water was ripped from his body through its pores. It collected in the air above her head. Tendrils slowly extended from the ever growing ball of water and stretched towards the empty glasses of the witches around the table and the glass Lyza held in her hand. As the flow from the waiter stopped, Lyza her raised her now full glass to the dried up corpse.
 
“See? Good service is always rewarded.” She downed her drink in one gulp. “Here's how it works,” she said, staring at the glass she was twirling in her hand. “Either you can come with us willingly and aid us in the fight against those who would keep us oppressed and slaughter wholesale any who dare try and embrace who they are. Or you can sit there, forsake your own, and calmly drink your espresso with a traitor. In which case, we kill the traitor and that worthless human you're with and take you anyway. I can live with both.”
 
She turned towards Robin. “So, which will it be?”
 
Robin stared at the waiter's corpse. “…How could you?”
 
Lyza cocked her head to the side. “What? Oh him.” She glanced down at the waiter.
 
“Didn't you hear me? Lousy service. It was just a human, no great loss. But if you say that, I suppose I have my answer.”
 
Amon stood up suddenly and raised his hand towards the water above her. He grimaced in effort and the water froze solid. The Coven Witches dived out of the way as the block of ice came crashing down on them. “Robin! Julius! The table!”
 
Robin and Julius leapt up, grabbed the table, and threw it through the window. As Julius and Amon dashed towards the window frame, Robin spun around, eyes blazing. Shots rang out, but the bullets were incinerated before they could hit their marks.
 
“Rune bullets!” Lyza cried out. “Use your rune bullet gun!”
 
Robin started backing out the window when she heard gunshot behind her. She glanced back to Amon with his pistol drawn. Julius cursed and reached into the pockets of his coat. He pulled out several crosses and a bottle of water stopped up with a cross. He reared back and hurled the crosses out at several figures that were running towards them. They hurtled across the street and slammed into the chests of several of the figures, who screamed and crumpled into dust. In his other hand, Julius shook the bottle and lobbed in front of the remaining vampires. It shattered on the street, flames jumping up from the broken glass and encircling the vampires.
 
Amon, Julius, and Robin leapt threw the window and ran off into the night, Lyza's voice still ringing in their ears.
 
“Stop them! Don't let those Nazi sons of bitches have them!”
 
***
 
Tublicain struck a match on the edge of the rooftop and lit his cigarette. He dragged at it thoughtfully.
 
“Impressive little girl,” he said.
 
“Robin or the girl from the Coven?” Rip asked.
 
Tublicain grinned, letting the smoke escape between his teeth. “Both. Shall we move in?”
 
Rip shook her head. “No… no we shouldn't.”
 
Tublicain looked sidways at her. “Why not? These are ideal conditions. …Are you alright?”
 
Rip removed her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “I'm fine. This just doesn't feel right, that's all. Hunters are superstitious like that. Let the grunts handle it.”
 
Tublicain shrugged and turned around, putting his hands in his pockets. “You're in charge. I'll go tell the troops,” he said, jumping over the edge of the roof.
 
Rip stayed on top of the roof, staring at the retreating form of the red-headed youth in the dark brown coat. She cocked her head to the side and wiped off the cold sweat from her brow.
 
“I am the hunter. I took my power from the demon of the hunt. If the demon hunts me… who is hunting the demon?”
 
***
 
“We can't kill her,” Integra said flatly.
 
“Why not?” Enrico responded, putting his feet up on Integra's desk and leaning back in his chair. “We obviously can't let Millennium have her, and if the Coven convince her to come over to their side I'm not sure it would be possible to stop her.”
 
Integra glared at Enrico's shoes for a moment then looked up to the man himself. “Aside from the fact that she's an innocent, which I know means absolutely nothing to you, if we kill her we risk inciting the Coven. You yourself know just how high they regard her. Look at this,” she said, sliding a photograph across the table. It showed a picture of a wall covered in graffiti. Most of which read “She is coming. Our savior I coming. Robin, the Witch King, is coming.
 
Enrico scowled and sipped at his brandy.
 
“So an extraction then?” Adrian said. “In, out, and gone before the enemy notices.”
 
“I don't suppose you're open to volunteers?” Alucard said, dropping through the ceiling.
 
“I'm afraid that, as much fun as I'm sure you would have, father, you can't go. Integra informs me that you don't exist, legally. We simply don't have the time to forge you a new identity or cut through the red tape required to get you there.”
 
“What about Paladin Anderson?” Integra said as she lit a cigar. “This seems like the sort of thing he would specialize in?”
 
“Unfortunately, Father Anderson has been dispatched on another mission,” Enrico said. “One that I assure you is of equal importance as this one.”
 
“Where is he?” Integra asked.
 
Enrico smiled smugly and sipped at his brandy.
 
“I could just have Alucard read your mind,” Integra said.
 
Enrico grinned and opened his arms wide. “He is more than welcome to try.”
 
Adrian sighed and tried to tune out Enrico and Integra's bickering. How can we even hope to get anything done when they waste their time arguing?
 
Such is the ridiculousness of humanity.
 
And we are not capable of acting just as ludicrous?
 
Alucard grinned. I never claimed we didn't.
 
“You find something amusing, monster?” Enrico said, glaring at Alucard.
 
“Believe me, Father Maxwell, you do not want to know what my father finds amusing. Aren't we getting a little off track though? Sir Helsing, is there anyone on your staff who both legally exists and is capable of taking a mission like this?” said Adrain.
 
Integra tapped her desk thoughtfully and reached out for a file. She flipped through it and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the desk.
 
“Captain Bernadette's résumé indicates that he has a fair level of black ops and Special Forces training. He has also indicated that he has completed successful extractions before. Though where he learned these skills is unknown. The Captain assures me that it would be much better off for all parties if it remained that way.”
 
“So we entrust this job to your mercenary captain and a hand picked team of his?” Enrico asked.
 
“Well, it makes sense,” Adrian replied. “If anyone knows how to slip into other countries unnoticed, it will be them.”
 
“I'm afraid that's not an option, gentlemen. I might be able to spare Captain Bernadette, but I need the rest of the Wild Geese to stay here. Considering how untrained they are in fighting vampires, I cannot put England at risk by losing any of them.”
 
“We can hardly send your mercenary captain in alone,” Enrico said. “I will assign two of my best agents to go along with him.”
 
“I don't recall saying that you could send anyone,” Integra responded calmly.
 
“This is hardly a worry for Britain. This could affect all of humanity. You can't shut us out.”
 
“You seemed to be willing to do the same thing with your information on Millennium. I'm not so sure I can trust you, Maxwell.”
 
“To do what? Not kill her? You've already made your point about why her termination is not an option. In fact,” Maxwell said, standing up from his chair. “I'm not entirely sure why you have to be involved in this extraction at all. I could just send my own agents to extract them without your input at all.”
 
Adrian moved quickly to try and stifle their argument. “What about Officer Victoria? Assuming that she's qualified, I would feel much more comfortable sending somebody with some supernatural abilities.”
 
“I need Officer Victoria to stay here and train the Wild Geese. She's the only person I have left who's qualified, unless you want to take the job,” Integra said.
 
“I'm afraid that my vampire hunting techniques are somewhat… dated. Can't Mr. Dolneaz teach them?”
 
Integra reached for a cigar and cut off the tip. “I'm afraid Walter has enough on his plate helping me to rebuild this organization. I couldn't even think of asking him to train the troops.”
 
Adrian sighed. “And as I recall, my father's teaching techniques leave something to be desired.”
 
“I would like to think I've learned from my mistakes,” Alucard replied.
 
“As would I,” Adrian said.
 
Enrico smirked and picked up his tumbler. “I believe we can help you there.”
 
Integra flicked her lighter and looked towards Adrian, who shrugged. A quick glance towards Alucard, a nod, and she lit her cigar. “I'm listening.”
 
“You wish to send two of your agents to retrieve the girl? Fair enough. I do not think the number is sufficient, though. I already have enough enemies moving against me. I can ill afford to stretch my forces by making another. You send the mercenary captain and your concubine of Satan. I will send my best two agents to accompany them. And you will allow this because I am feeling particularly generous today and will provide for you an instructor.”
 
“And who is this instructor?”
 
“The man most qualified to teach vampire hunting in all the world.”
 
“Ah. You are feeling generous then Maxwell?”
 
Maxwell smiled and sipped at his brandy. “Call it an act of Christian charity. Are you going to reject my flowers again, Sir Hellsing?”
 
“No. In retrospect, it was foolish of me to ruin a perfectly good bouquet.” She smiled coolly. “I should have slapped you.” Integra turned to Alucard, who was now sitting in a chair in the back leaning against the wall. He appeared to be napping. “Alucard, is Seras ready for something like this?”
 
Alucard looked up. “I'm not sure,” he said, taking off his sunglasses. “It would be interesting to find out.”
 
Adrain cocked his head to the side. Learned from your mistakes, have you?
 
Alucard didn't answer. Instead he looked towards the door of the office. Adrian glanced at it, raised an eyebrow, reached over, and yanked it open. Sakaki and Dojima fell through.
 
Maxwell chuckled. “Your security is somewhat lax, Sir Hellsing.”
 
“We're still rebuilding.”
 
Dojima sprang up and yanked Sakaki up after her. They dusted themselves off and turned to face Integra.
 
“We'd like to propose that a member of the STN-J be allowed on this mission.”
 
“And the reasoning for this is?” Integra asked.
 
“You need someone who can handle witches,” Sakaki said. “And we know Robin. We know how she thinks. And she trusts us. She and Amon might not trust your people.”
 
“You have a point,” Integra said. She puffed at her cigar. “And who, exactly, do you suggest for this mission?”
 
Sakaki and Dojima glanced at each other. “Well, either of us could go,” Dojima began.
 
“I'm afraid I'm going to have to make Miss Dojima stay here,” Adrian said suddenly. “There's something important I need her to do.”
 
“Where are the other two members of your group?” Integra asked.
 
“Miss Karasuma is helping the Witch Finder Army. Apparently their scryer was killed the other night and they need her to help investigate.”
 
“Ah, of course. Do tell her that I want a report on all her findings sent to me,” Maxwell said.
 
“This is a British investigation, Maxwell.”
 
Maxwell grinned. “You use my people, I get information. A fair trade, Sir Hellsing.” He turned to Sakaki and Dojima. “And where is the hacker?”
 
“Michael?” Sakaki said.
 
Dojima sighed. “Michael got bored.”
 
***
 
Walter pushed open the door, his eyes fixed to the clipboard he was holding. He glanced up and stopped short.
 
Through his long employment in the service of the Hellsings, Walter had long since had the ability to be easily surprised driven out of him. He was not about to let something like this get to him.
 
“What is going on?” he asked calmly.
 
The workers were clustered around one of the computer terminals and chatting so loudly that they were unable to hear Walter's voice.
 
Walter cleared his throat firmly and one of the technicians turned around to see him.
 
“Walter!” she said loudly.
 
The technicians turned around, saw him, and scattered. The one who had originally seen Walter cleared her throat as well and stood, very deliberately, in front of her station.
 
“And what, exactly, is going on here?”
 
The technician laughed nervously. “Why nothing at all, Mr. Dolneaz. What makes you think something is going on?”
 
Walter motioned for her to move to the side. She stepped away to reveal a young, dark haired man working on her terminal.
 
Walter noticed that the young man had the music on his earphones turned up so high it could be heard halfway across the room. Which went a long way to explaining why Walter' approach went unnoticed.
 
Walter reached out and hit the stop button on the man's CD player. The youth looked over at his CD player and followed Walter's arm up to his face. He removed his earphones and quickly stood up.
 
“You're with the STN-J, aren't you?” Walter asked.
 
The young man scratched the back of his head. “Well, sort of. I'm Michael Lee.” Michael held out his hand.
 
Walter looked down at it for a moment, then turned his attention to the computer. “And what, exactly, are you doing here?”
 
“I'm sorry!” the technician said suddenly. “He was looking for a place to set up his laptop, so I pointed him to one of the empty terminals. One of the other technicians was having trouble, Michael went over to help, and well, one thing lead to another and ended up giving our entire system a complete overhaul.”
 
Walter raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? The entire system?”
 
“Yeah. Especially the firewall. From what I hear, I figured that the Nazi guys are probably using your computer system to keep tabs on you.”
 
“I designed our defense systems myself,” Walter said.
 
“I broke through them,” Michael responded. “If one person did, it's possible that another person could do it.”
 
Walter stared at Michael for a few moments and then smiled. “Bored, were you?”
 
“Well… a little.”
 
“Then why don't you come with me,” Walter said.
 
***
 
The target stopped its backward motion and flopped in front of him.
 
Breathe.
 
Don't just shoot and hope you get lucky. Only beginners do that.
 
Breathe.
 
You've got take time to aim.
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!

BLAM!

BLAM!

BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
Pip ejected the clip, took off his ear protectors, and sighed.
 
“Nobody takes the time to aim any more, do they?”
 
Pip looked over to see an old man in priest's robes watching from a distance away. The priest walked up to Pip and inspected his target. “Impressive. Do you mind?”
 
Pip handed him the gun and retreated to a safe position.
 
The priest loaded a new target and placed the gun in front of him.
 
“Hey, Cap, what's that old geezer doin'?” one of the Wild Geese asked.
 
Pip held up a hand to silence him. The Geese stopped firing and looked over at the unassuming old priest.
 
Suddenly, the priest's arms appeared to blur, the gun jumped up into his hand, and shots rang out through the firing range.
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
BLAM!
 
“Gray,” Pip said quietly.
 
“Yes Captain?”
 
“How many shots did you hear?”
 
“Twelve, Captain.”
“Good. I'm not drunk then.” Pip stepped up to the old priest and looked at his target. “When did you reload?” he asked.
 
“You missed it? Then it appears we have a lot of work to do.”
 
Pip cocked his head to the side. “What does that mean? Who are you, old man?”
 
The old priest placed Pip's automatic down and turned to the Wild Geese. He bowed slightly. “My name is Father Marco Renaldo. I am a special attaché from the Vatican and will be overseeing your training.”
 
“I thought the Police Girl was going to train us to fight vampires?”
 
Renaldo's eyebrows furrowed. “Police Girl?”
 
“Seras Victoria,” Pip clarified.
 
Father Renaldo raised an eyebrow. “She is going to Argentina. Didn't you know?”
 
Pip's eye widened. “Why wasn't I told about this?”
 
Gray tapped him on the shoulder. “Boss… you're going too.”
 
Pip turned behind him. “I am?”
 
Gray sighed. “You really need to start reading your memos, boss.”
 
“…Memos?”
 
Gray sighed. “Those things you get in your e-mail box?”
 
“…We have e-mail?”
 
***
 
Michael took off his sunglasses and wiped them with his shirt.
 
“This is what I get for showing off, I suppose.”
 
Walter had put him in charge of trying to follow the trails the Coven and Millennium had left. Which was difficult considering how cold the trails were. But it was only a matter of waiting. Eventually one of the two organizations would try to hack their way back into the system, and fall right into his net.
 
He peeled the wrapper off of a Snickers bar and started eating it when his computer beeped. He glanced down at the monitor, stuffed the candy bar into his mouth, and started to type furiously.
 
Before he could execute the entrapment program, the user jacked out, leaving a message flashing on the computer screens.
 
Michael took the Snickers out of his mouth and stared at the flashing words on the screen. This was eerily familiar, though the message was different.
 
“Stonehenge?”
 
***
 
“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” Dr. Cronquist said into the phone as he lit a cigarette.
 
“It's what he wants,” Joachim answered. “Who are we to refuse him?”
 
Cronquist shook the match out. “Well, you're his boss.”
 
Joachim's low chuckle floated over the phone. “Technically true. But it's his neck to risk, isn't it?”
 
Cronquist dragged on his cigarette, tapped it into an ashtray, and closed his laptop. “Whatever. Just warn me next time. I don't know who designed their defense system but if I had stayed half a second longer in there they would have had me.”
 
“Well, they didn't get you, did they?”
 
Cronquist sighed. “No. No they didn't.”
 
“Then everything's alright then. Just keep to your mission. I'll handle the rest. Don't worry, my good doctor. You are in excellent hands.”
 
***
 
Karasuma shifted through the rubble of the ruined library. While the Witchfinder's had given her various things to scry: a grenade that they believe emitted UV light, several rune bullets, and a long, serrated knife, she had simply been unable to read anything from them. And for once, she was relieved to notice, it wasn't because of her diminishing powers. There was simply no emotion attached to the weapons. Nothing.
 
Which was frightening enough in its own way.
 
She knelt down and looked under a chair to notice a rock resting simply on the floor. Deciding that something that out of place merited investigating, she reached out, grabbed the rock, and tried to scry it.
 
 
Stones. Huge stones. Immense stones, laid out in a circle. Protection. Fear of other side. Protection.
 
Fire. Fire and hatred. Burning and pain.
 
Karasuma dropped the rock quickly and looked down at her hand. It was bright red, as if she had held it to a toaster oven coil.
 
“…Stonehenge?”
 
***
 
The Captain nodded to his companion, shouldered his duffel, and walked off towards his gate.
 
His companion nodded back and pulled out a road map of England. He traced a path down from London to the Salisbury Plains. He checked his watch.
 
“Cronquist should have given them the message about forty-five minutes ago… give me some time to drive down there…”
 
He neatly folded the map up and placed it in his pocket.
 
“Just enough time to pick up a gun.”
 
***
 
As the trio raced through the dark park of La Recoleta, Robin suddenly fell behind. Here eyes widened.
 
“What?” she said. “I'm supposed to be what?”
 
“Who's she talking to?” Julius shouted.
 
“I'm not sure. She's never done this before.”
 
“But how?” Robin asked the thin air. “How am I supposed to save them if all they can do is kill?”
 
“Grab her then!” Julius said. “We can't waste time! Why aren't you moving?”
 
Amon's gun suddenly jumped into his hands. “There's something out there.”
 
A figure scuttled into the dim light provided by a streetlamp. It bared its fangs at Amon and Julius. Several other figures scuttled after it. Behind Julius and Amon, Robin continued to question the darkness. Amon and Julius ran over to her and tried to pull her in the other direction, but she remained rooted to the spot, fighting them off. When a sudden flare erupted by Julius's sleeve, Amon grunted and punched Robin in the stomach. She grunted and fell limp. Amon caught her, threw over her shoulder, and turned to Julius, who was staring at the approaching vampires.
 
“Julius! Let's go!” he shouted.
 
Julius growled and pulled a cross from his pocket. His other hand moved towards his hip.
 
“We don't have time for this!”
 
“I can't,” Julius responded, rushing at the vampires. “I can't. This is my curse. This is my cruse, my burden. This is my goddamn destiny. ”