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Four strangers with different beliefs are the only ones who can save the world. |
| [Introduction]
The world is on the brink of a nuclear holocaust. The world's governments have become increasingly paranoid and it is only a matter of time before the first one panics and hits the button. Celesta, an eclectic pagan witch, is visited by an angel and told to be at Central Park at midnight. Micola, a vampire, is visited by an older vampire named Iscar, he's the oldest vampire still alive on earth, over 3000 years old. He tells her to be at Central Park at midnight. Macey, a Christian, very devout, is visited by a guardian angel and told that it is important that he be at Central Park at midnight. Tome,an atheist, has a strange dream. The most vivid dream he has ever experienced. In it, his great-grandfather tells him to be at Central Park at midnight. Normally, not one to take stock in dreams, he feels compelled go there. Basically, the four will have to learn to work together, using their various talents and powers to stop Armageddon from happening. |
| Celesta yawned and stretched. The morning sun shone through her bedroom window, waking her from a wonderful dream. With a sigh, she stood up and slid her fuzzy pink slippers onto her feet. It was a cool morning in New York City and she was looking forward to a relaxing day on her couch, watching television. It was rare for Celesta to take off work. She was a good, hard worker and took pride in the fact that she never took sick days. But, she had three weeks vacation coming and had to use it by the end of the year, so she figured she might as well take a day to just be lazy. Celesta opened her front door and picked up the day's New York Times. The headline read: Iraq Admits to Nuclear Arsenal "What else is new?" Celesta asked her black, short-haired cat, Magic, who was sitting on the floor staring up at her with her deep green eyes. "What do you want, tuna?" The cat meowed and rubbed against Celesta's legs. Celesta headed into the kitchen, the cat following close behind her. Once she had fed her companion and familiar, she sat down at the table and browsed through the newspaper. A knock came at the door and she frowned. Who would be coming by so early? Glancing at the clock, she saw it was almost eight o'clock. Feeling a little irritated at the interruption she walked over to the front door. "Who is it?" "Special delivery for Celesta Parker." "What is it?" "A package, ma'am. From Los Angeles." "Must be from Mom. Hang on!" Celesta undid the deadbolt but left the chain in place. Opening the door an inch, she peeked through. Sure enough, a woman dressed in the FedEx uniform stood holding a package. Celesta undid the chain lock and opened the door. "Could I trouble you for a quick drink of water, dear?" the FedEx lady asked, politely. "Of course, please come in." When Celesta returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for the deliverywoman, she was startled to see that the lady was no longer in uniform. She was now wearing a long, flowing white dress and she even seemed to be glowing. "Who are you?" Celesta gasped, dropping the glass. She was so awed by the woman's presence, she didn't even hear the shattering of the glass on the hardwood floor. "My name is Seraphina. I'm an angel. I have come to you with a message of grave importance." "Me? Why me?" "You and three others are the only ones who can save this world. I can tell you no more, but we ask, no we BEG of you, please be at Central Park at midnight tonight." "Central Park at midnight? Are you nuts? That's not exactly a safe place to be at that time of night." "You will be protected. Please. We need you." With that, the woman disappeared. |
| She stood on the cliff over-looking the ocean. A salty breeze tousled her long, dark hair as she watched the tide crash on the rocks below. Each new wave was kissed with a faint silver glow from the full moon hanging low on the horizon. Softly, she sighed. She had not returned to these rocks in more than ten years. She had thought she'd never return again. But she could not ignore the summons she had heard deep within her mind. No matter the memories, when an elder calls, one must attend. "Here, Micola?" She hadn't heard him approach, but she had expected him. Slowly, she turned. He was as handsome as ever. The eternal thirty year old with his sandy blond hair and piercing green eyes. "Yes, Iscar, here. My memories are still fresh of this place. I can still smell the fire and hear the screams." "Torture yourself later," he interrupted. "I have need of you." She raised her eyebrows. "You must go to New York. It isn't far from here, but you must be in Central Park at midnight. You will meet three others there. Two mortals, and a witch." She wrinkled her nose, but did not object. Of all the creatures roaming this planet, he was one of the few that could give her such a direct command. "Things are happening quickly among the humans. You must go to represent the interests of the Sangua in these matters. You will learn more when you arrive." Micola frowned. He had not used her for political matters in some time. She had thought she was beyond such things with him. As if reading her thoughts, he said, "I need this to be you, Micola." He stepped closer quickly, wrapping her in his arms. "I need to have someone I trust completely in all manners that may arise from this. I know you'll look out for our needs appropriately." He kissed her cheek, then her neck. “You know the clan in the city, you have domain over them if you need it.” "New York," Micola whispered. "As you wish, my lord." She embraced him willingly. "Before you go, take from me. I hope you will not need it, but I fear you will." Fear? She could not recall a time this elder has ever expressed fear. She trembled at the thought of something that could cause such a thing. Gently, she kissed his neck. The quiver of his pulse under her lips, enticed her fangs to lengthen. Without hesitation, for he had already offered, she bit deep and swift. His was a taste of sweet ecstasy. Warm blood flowed around her fangs and over her tongue with a soft splash of rich delight. Just a sip, one mouthful, she knew the rules. Yet, she lingered, just a moment; it was a moment too long. Iscar grabbed her arms and pulled her away roughly. She flinched not from the suddenness of his movements but for the discipline that would follow. “Go,” he said. She met his eyes; his harsh look said he wasn’t as forgiving as she had initially thought. With a nod, he released her. She stepped around him and walked quickly back up the path to her car. As she climbed in, she gave one last wistful glance at the ruins of a burnt-out mansion nestled among the trees. “Back to the plane, Jacob,” she whispered. Her driver threw the car into gear and sped off without a word. |
| Rick Macey went through the normal routine when he entered the office. Waved ‘hi’ to everyone, though he rarely got a wave back — people in New York were weird like that, he’d never get used to it — then grabbed a coffee and headed to the spare cubicle they had found for him. Macey was on loan from his home office in L.A. and had been living out of a hotel room for the past two weeks. Life as a Home Land Security agent didn’t often call for travel, but the top brass in New York wanted to pick his brains. The topic, as usual, was religious terror groups — Islamic ones to be precise, which happened to be his specialty. Since the news about Iraq, the whole nuclear attack scenario had risen in priority. It was his job to identify the possible who’s and where’s and then come up with the how’s to deal with it. So far he’d come up with squat, but that didn’t surprise him. Just because the U.S. happened to find out about Iraq having nukes doesn’t mean some terror cell is going to be quick to use them. If anything the opposite would be true. But the political machine didn’t understand logic like that. They just needed to know that ‘something’ was being done about it. So here he was, a thousand miles away from Sophie and the kids just to help some senator sleep better at night. Waste of time. They’d be better off keeping tabs on these radical right-wing church groups that were popping up, rather than chasing after some Islamic boogeymen. “Agent Macey?” The voice came from a petite Asian woman standing just outside his cubicle. Macey recognized her as one of the office receptionists, although he didn’t quite remember her name — Ann or something like that. “Yup?” he answered, taking a sip of the coffee. It was too strong as usual. “You have a visitor,” she said. Visitor? Hardly anyone even knew that he was here. Must be one of the brass, but they normally summoned him, not the other way around. “Who is it?” “He didn’t say,” she said. “Want me to ask?” “No, just send him in.” At least it would be something interesting to perk up his day. Lately his days were terribly slow, especially with the leads running out. Macey took another sip of the horrible tasting coffee while he waited for the receptionist to return. He also reminded himself to learn her name. “Here you are sir.” She finally arrived with a tall black man following behind her. He was dark-skinned, which contrasted sharply with his completely white suit. He was also about three hundred pounds. If he didn’t know any better, Macey would swear he was looking at that rapper—what was his name? Biggie Smalls? This had to be some kind of joke. The guy was dressed like a pimp! Macey had to resist the urge to look around for a hidden camera as he rose from his seat to shake the man’s bear like hand, half expecting Dave Chappell to burst into the room next. “Rick Macey,” he greeted him professionally none the less. “Arrington,” the man said with an air of sophistication. Macey then offered him a seat and resisted the urge to laugh. This had to be some kind of joke. Maybe one of the guys from back home was playing a prank on him. “What can I do for you?” Macey asked. “I’m here to give you a message,” said Arrington. “It pertains to why you are here.” “Is that right?” His friend Virgil must have set this up. Macey had been telling him how bored he was over here, and his sense of humor wasn’t beyond pulling something like this. Fine, he’d grill this poor guy. He sure hoped Virgil was paying him a lot. “Mind me asking how you knew I was here?” “My Lord knows all things,” he said. Lord? Okay, maybe this wasn’t a joke. Maybe this guy was just a regular nut case. “Lord, huh? And who’s that?” “Son of the God most High. Priest forever after the order of Melchizedek. He who came in the flesh.” Was this guy for real? Virgil must have coached him on some scriptures. “You mean Jesus?” “Yes, he,” said Arrington not losing a beat. “Go to Central Park at midnight. You will meet three strangers there. You will be shown things you yet do not know. Your faith will be tested, but trust in God. He will not forsake you.” If this was Virgil’s idea of a joke it was wearing thin. Sending a phony informant was one thing, but getting someone to impersonate an angel was a bit much. “Alright, very funny. Virgil sent you right?” “I already told you who sent me,” Arrington said as he stood. “You have been chosen. You too are now of the Order of Melchizedek by His will.” What the heck was this? Who was this guy? Macey then became aware that the man had left. He didn’t even see him leave. Jumping up after him, Macey poked his head into the corridor but saw only the receptionist outside. “Um… Amanda!” Yes that was her name — at least he hoped it was. “Did you see where that guy went?” “Who?” “That guy you just brought in to me.” She looked at him as if he had just asked her how to spell his own name. “I didn’t bring anyone to you.” Macey’s heart suddenly thundered in his chest. “You didn’t just bring a 300 pound black man into my office?” She gave him a wide-eyed stare, before uttering a nervous I-think-you’re-crazy kind of laugh. “Sorry wasn’t me,” she said. “I just got in to work.” |
| Cash was enjoying a nice vacation on some tropical island that almost certainly didn’t exist. He was flirting with some astoundingly attractive women in very skimpy clothing who were all over him, practically begging to be taken to his bedroom. He was also dreaming. He grinned, and said something to one of the women. She giggled, and they both got up and headed for an impossibly large hotel. And then it all changed, suddenly. Everything disappeared. The tropical scene was simply gone, replaced by a white…nothingness. Cash normally dreamt in the third person, watching himself do all sorts of things. But now he felt like he was tied down to his body. He even started having conscious thoughts, something he never really did in dreams. What? he thought. “Richard.” Only his family called him by that name, and he hadn’t seen any of them for over five years. So why have a dream about one? “Richard,” repeated the voice. Cash couldn’t make out who it was supposed to be, but he knew it had to be someone close to him. “I am close,” said the voice, apparently reading his thoughts. “In fact, I’m right behind you.” Cash turned around, and was staring face to face with his dead great-grandfather. He knew who it was, even though the face he looked at was young and fresh. The eyes gave away the true identity. And there was just a feeling… “Um.” “Richard, I need you to do something for me.” “Do something?” asked Cash. “Yes. Listen carefully. I need you to be in Central Park tonight at midnight.” “Too late,” replied Cash. “Midnight would actually be tomorrow.” Wait, was I just sarcastic? In a dream? His young great-grandfather’s face didn’t change at all. “Good old Richard. Just be there. You’ll meet others.” With that, the dream ended, and Cash was dragged kicking and screaming back into reality. |
| Celesta glanced at the clock above the stove. Only ten. I wonder who I'll be meeting in a couple hours? Celesta looked through her Book of Shadows for a protection spell. The angel had said she'd be safe, but it'd be foolish to go without at least trying to protect herself. Finding one, she quickly went and stood before her small altar. She wished she had a bigger place. It sucked having only a small space for her magical workings. Still, time was short and she quickly lit the candles and performed the short spell. Feeling better, she looked through her closet for something suitable to wear. Suitable? she laughed to herself. What would be suitable for meeting strangers in the park in the middle of the night at the advice of an angel? Knowing it would be a little chilly that night, she finally opted to wear her black cashmere sweater and a pair of black slacks. Nothing fancy, but comfortable and attractive. "Well, Magic. Wish me luck. I'd better start walking, it's quite a ways to the park from here and it's a lovely night for a stroll." |
| She made good time in the private jet of the Medici family. It was big enough to ferry six in luxury, yet it was just Micola in the cabin, surrounded by her thoughts. Jacob piloted the large craft expertly through the darkness as the silent, brooding vampire mulled over the task at hand in an overly priced calf-skin captain’s chair in the dark cabin of the plane. It has been too long since I participated in the politics between mortals and immortals. Not that I mind. I’d rather not be involved at all. So, why me? Certainly, Iscar has more qualified Sangua to call upon for such a confrontation. I have been away from such business for decades. "I need this to be you, Micola." That was how he said it. It sounded strange. It hadn’t then, from his own lips, but then that is the power of an elder – persuasive, demanding, awe-inspiring. “I need this to be you…” His needs. Me. Micola shook her head. It just wasn’t making sense. Iscar had given her no further information except to meet these strangers in New York. He always made sure she was well-versed in her duties for him. He always gave her more information than she’d ever need. And yet, this time, it is just, go. Jacob interrupted her musing. “My lord,” he said, “We are nearing the airport and have been given clearance to land.” “Grazie, Jacob,” she replied, off-handedly using the Italian that had grown on her so quickly over the past ten years. “Don’t disturb me again until we are on the ground and you have a car ready.” He nodded briskly and returned to the cockpit, but she hardly noticed. * * * She left Jacob to doze in the car while she explored the park. As if no more than a ghost she flitted from shadow to shadow. With still an hour before she was expected at the meeting point, she took her time to learn the lay of the park well enough to have several routes out should things not go as planned. A short-lived, sardonic laugh exploded from her mouth at that thought. As planned? What plans? The park was large and fairly well-kept. Tall lampposts shed bright, white light in ethereal pools upon the walkways, but the trees were dark. Small clusters and larger groves of trees decorated the park, separated it into several sections of earthy green nature all surrounded by the living city. Clinging to the shadows of a small grove of trees she watched a pair of joggers trudge by. Breath plumed from their lips reminding Micola that October’s in New England can become rather chilly. She glanced over her attire – black leather pants and boots with a lightweight blood-red cotton shirt with long, bell sleeves. The shirt plunged low giving her pause as she rolled her shoulders back to straighten her slouched back. She has never coped well with air travel. Ah well, she sighed. It was a little cold for her outfit, but it would have to do. She took a couple of practiced breaths and on the third, her breath plumed slightly in the crisp night air. She laughed at the plume, but her laugh did not show itself in the cool autumn night. Ok, Iscar, let’s see what you have planned for my evening. * * * She arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. With practiced skill and grace she easily climbed up the side of the darkened clamshell that sheltered the stage, and into the exposed rafters. Pleased with her hiding place, she settled in to wait for the strangers to arrive. |
| Macey trudged along the concrete walkway that was meandering Northward through South Central Park, part of him wondering just what the heck he was doing out here. It was almost midnight and he was starting to feel like an idiot. After his encounter this morning —that’s what he had been calling it since then—Macey had immediately phoned his friend Virgil. He had woken him up. Macey had forgotten it was only 5 AM over on the West Coast when he had called, but that didn’t matter at the time. Virgil was wide awake by the time had finished telling him the story though—it took him almost five minutes to stop laughing. When he finally did, Virgil then assured him that he hadn’t sent a Biggie Smalls look-alike to come minister to him as an angel. Of course the call had been out of mere desperation. Even if Virgil had been playing some joke on him, it still didn’t explain the receptionist’s reaction. Macey interrogated her next, but the only thing fruitful to come of that conversation was him finally learning that her name was actually Andrea not Amanda. At least he wouldn’t forget it now. Macey breathed a deep sigh and the chill hitting his lungs reminded him how cold it was tonight. He rubbed his hands together for warmth and contemplated slipping on the gloves in his overcoat pockets. Fall in New York was nothing like back home. Man, he sure wished he could be there now. He thought about Sophia, about their daughters. He really missed them a lot. He even missed work. At least there he had Virgil to keep him laughing all day, much unlike the uptight workaholics he had to deal with over here. For a split second Macey wondered if this whole thing couldn’t still all be one of Virgil’s jokes. That maybe he was going to get a call from Virgil in the morning and have to listen to him cracking up laughing, asking him how his little midnight rendezvous went. It was possible. Virgil could keep a joke running like that. Heck, maybe he had even pulled Amanda in on it too. Andrea. Whatever. But how likely would that be? “Probably more likely than a dead-rapper angel,” he muttered. Macey heard a scuffling sound and looked up, just in time, to see a young couple that was jogging, quickly scrambling out of his way. They must have overheard his comment and assumed him to be crazy. Macey decided to laugh out loud for effect and to his delight, the couple ran away from him even faster, clocking down the path like their lives depended on it. It was actually quite liberating. It was no wonder so many people acted crazy. Wait, what the heck was he doing? Did he just act crazy for fun? Maybe he really was going crazy. Or all this was driving him crazy anyway. Spotting a park bench, he decided he needed to take a break. It’d give him some time to get his thoughts in order. He collapsed on the bench and began contemplating things in earnest. He had to make sense of all this somehow. Macey had been a devout Christian for most of his adult life. At 47 that placed him around 25 years in the Church and that entire time, never had he had anything like this happen to him. Did God still send angels to people? Did he really send an angel to him? If so why? And why him? There was one way to find out of course and that’s why he was here. Go to Central Park. That was still a pretty vague instruction though. The place was huge. Just where in it was he supposed to go? And who were these people he was supposed to meet? Macey looked again at his watch, almost twelve. He usually called Sophia around twelve. Part of him really wanted to talk to her, but what was he going to say? Sorry honey, I can’t talk long, an angel told me to meet some people in Central Park in a few minutes? He must be going crazy—maybe it was from all the work stress. What work stress? He was bored to death at work! No mater what rationalization he tried to use to explain away the events from this morning, they all seemed to fall flat. And besides that, there was something else that was bothering him about the whole thing as well. Melchizedek. How many people even knew that name, much less knew what it implied? If this wasn’t Virgil pulling a prank, then there were some even bigger questions to— A cry suddenly rang out in the distance, breaking his thoughts. Macey’s pulse quicken as his senses were pulled abruptly back to his surrounds. He was still alone on the park bench, though it was deathly quiet now, cold, still. He tried to determine what exactly it was he had heard. It hadn’t been a cry exactly, more like a laugh. Yes, a woman’s laugh. Bold, sharp, condescending almost—if a laugh could be considered that. Macey didn’t blame those two joggers for running away from him now. Hearing someone laugh out loud unexpectedly was a bit frightening. The laugh hadn’t come from up the path, but rather adjacent to it; from within the trees—within the dark. And it had been close too. Macey stood slowly and felt his heart beating even faster now. Who the heck could be out there laughing in the dark? Could this be what he had come for? Maybe. If he was feeling crazy enough to laugh out loud, why not the people he was supposed to be meeting? Ah, what the heck, not like anything else was happening. “Alright, Biggie,” he said, stepping off the pathway and into darkness, following the direction of the laugh, “let’s see where you lead me to now.” |
| Cash pulled his car up to the park and sighed heavily. The day had been relatively interesting, and tiring, too. He was used to late nights. After all, a lot of the stuff he dealt with was illegal, and most of that happened at night. But normally he wasn’t awake at eight in the morning, thinking about some stupid dream. Almost immediately he had decided it was nothing. It was probably just his mechanical eye malfunctioning. It acted up every now and then. After all, how could you implant something like that and not have problems? Even Cash wasn’t that good. And when you spent all day in front of computers sleep never felt right, anyway. Your eyes kept trying to focus on lights that didn’t exist, trying to read text that wasn’t typed. I probably had too much to drink, he thought for the thousandth time as he turned the car off. The silence that occurred ran chills down his spine, something not easily done. After all, he had seen some scary things. But none of them had happened to him. Now he wondered if he would be on the wrong end of some petty thieving in the middle of Central Park. Why am I here again? Oh yes. Andrea. *** She was an unemployed actress working at some diner called Mel’s. The cliché was almost too much for Cash to take when he first met her, but it turned out clichés exist for a reason. She was a lovely brunette, and probably the closest thing Cash had to an actual friend. He always stopped by Mel’s if he was up in the morning. It wasn’t often, but he came in enough to keep the relationship alive. “The usual,” he told her that morning, before he even said hello. “Cash!” she yelled. “Hold on, I’ll tell them and then go on break.” A few minutes later they were talking at a booth. “How’ve you been?” she asked, generally curious, even though she knew he couldn’t reveal the details of his private life. He explained the dream to her, because that was all he could think about at the time. She listened intently. That’s what Cash loved about her—she actually listened to you. “Sounds like a message from God,” Andrea said. “I think you should go.” “You know how I feel about your god,” he had replied. “I probably had too much to drink.” “Just because you won’t talk to God doesn’t mean He won’t talk to you.” The actress smiled. “And we both know you had too much to drink either way.” Cash smiled back. “This is true.” “You should go,” she said, “just in case.” “What about you?” replied Cash in an attempt to change the subject. “How have you been?” “Oh, good,” she said, letting go of the conversation. “I think I might get this gig on Broadway that’s coming up soon.” “Don’t they normally hire people with talent?” Cash asked. He saw instantly that it offended her, even though she must have known he was kidding. He was famous for that, though. “I have to get back to work,” she suddenly said. Cash knew full well that she had more break time than that. “You know I was joking about that,” he said. “I know. But I have to go.” She was halfway to another table across the room to take an order when he finally said, “I’ll go. For you, I’ll go and see what happens.” She had smiled and laughed, and he knew he’d have to go. Cash would not lie to Andrea, if he could avoid it. So he had decided that he’d go and have a midnight look around the park, just for kicks. *** Cash made sure his jacket was on, but not too tightly. He kept his handgun in one of the pockets. The gun had probably had a make and model at one time, but he had modified so much that it looked like nothing else on the planet. He also kept a knife up each sleeve, just in case. You never knew who’d be trying to kill you off. He had better, more powerful weapons in his car, but nothing he could carry into Central Park without being seen. Cash pushed the car door open with his metallic left hand, and stepped out into the night. He pushed a button on the strange implant and the car locked. Anyone who tried to steal it would get a nasty electric shock that would have them on the ground for at least two minutes. It had cost him a lot for that feature, but Cash had plenty of money. Major companies all over the country paid him just so he wouldn’t hack their system. They paid him for protection. There wasn’t a hacker on the planet that could get past a Cash security system, other than the designer himself. So the money rolled in from everywhere, although most of the companies didn’t even know who they were paying. He was the best, and everyone knew it. The only reason they didn’t just kill him off, he figured, was because the battlefield of hacking would re-open. Without the constant updates on security from the great Cash people would get back into hacking the systems of companies, looking for products so they could sell the information to rival businesses. Cash kept things peaceful, in the same sense that a stalemate is peace. He entered the park, and passed two spooked looking joggers who were leaving. What kind of person jogs at midnight? he asked, glancing down at his watch. Well, it was close. Fifteen more minutes and he could leave, telling Andrea that the whole thing was just some dream brought on from late nights and heavy drinking. Cash came up on a park bench, where a man was getting up and leaving the path. Interesting. I wonder… No! This was not one of these ‘others’ his great-grandfather had told him to meet. Because he wasn’t really supposed to meet anyone at all. It was all a dream. Dreams were just rapid eye movement, or something. I’m sure I learned about it in high school Cash closed his biological eye. He hit another button on his metal and his metallic eye switched to night vision. The man leaving the bench was walking toward another person. A woman. They must be lovers, or something, he thought, meeting for a late night in the park. Maybe they are cheating on their spouses, or something. It happens often enough. And that would explain meeting off the path. I’ll just walk on, and leave them to do whatever it is they plan to do. They probably wouldn’t want me watching, anyway. And that probably would have been it, if Cash hadn’t bumped into another woman coming down the path from the opposite direction. He hadn’t seen her, because he was focusing so much on the couple, but he nearly knocked her over. “Sorry, miss,” he said. |
| "Quite all right, sir. I wasn't watching where I was going either," Celesta responded to the strange young man she'd just bumped into. She, too, had been watching the other two people in the park, wondering if they were the ones she was to meet. Looking around, she realized the other man and woman were also acting a bit strangely. They looked as if they wanted to strike up a conversation, but weren't sure how. Celesta figured it would have to be up to her to get the ball rolling and she was eager to find out why they had been called here. "My name is Celesta," she began. "An angel came to me and told me to be at Central Park at midnight," she laughed self-consciously. "Something about saving the world or something." The others were quiet, staring at her, oddly. She began to regret speaking. What if these weren't the people? She'd just made an ass of herself. Then, the other woman spoke. "Great, the crazy ones always come out at night. Roger, we need to find another place to meet." The couple quickly hurried off, leaving Celesta and the strange young man alone, staring at each other, nervously. |
| Micola sat perfectly still in the shadows. She was no more than a shadow. Her breath did not even plume in the air since her body generated no heat. She did not grow stiff or anxious sitting on the cold metal rafter of the stage. She waited, a cold alabaster statue, and listened to the sounds within the park. A woman screamed. Micola listened. The same voice said, “Roger, you scared me.” She knew she was waiting for three. She had a good chance of recognizing the power of the witch, but the other two, she’d just have to wait for and hope she’d recognize them when they came. Why does Iscar have to be so mysterious? Another voice, male, said, “Sorry miss.” Micola listened. A woman’s voice. “Quite all right, Sir.” Perhaps… Though I doubt any clandestine meeting would be held up there on the path when there’s a perfectly good place here – dark shadows, no paths for late night walkers to follow, open space to see anyone approaching… Micola frowned. She hoped that those that she was meeting would think of such things. Iscar wouldn’t get involved if he thought these mortals couldn’t be discreet. But then, where were these three she was to meet? It wasn’t quite midnight yet, but Micola began to grow concerned about her purpose here. |
| Macey heard a bit of commotion come from behind him as he approached the high arch of the bandshell. More voices, although he couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Could it have been the woman who had laughed? Turning, he heard the voices heading towards him and then two figures emerged from the darkness walking side by side. One was a young woman, dressed in black, around thirty, the other a man, slightly younger wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Were these the people he was supposed to meet? Macey decided it best to make his presence obvious just in case they were. He strolled to the center of the bandshell stage, hands in pockets as he kept his eyes on the young couple—if they really were a couple. Possibly. He made eye contact with the young man and for a second he could swear one of his eyes were glowing. His staring must have made the young man a bit uneasy and by the time he got within air-shot, he had an agitated scowl on his face. Macey couldn’t believe the first thing to fly out of his mouth. |
| Cash noticed a man standing in the middle of the bandshell stage. Who’s this joker? he thought as he walked through the park with his newly found ‘friend’ Celesta. What kind of name was that, anyway? Celesta. Cash wasn’t one to judge—after all, his pseudonym was a slang term for money. Names were names. They mattered little, in the end. Still, it was a bit of an odd name, even for him. But this new guy was just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking right at Cash. Why? What did he want? Was he another one he was supposed to meet? No. He wasn’t supposed to meet anyone. Although it was odd that this Celesta woman was also looking for someone, it didn’t mean anything. Everything that can happen will happen, in some universe or another. Cash had learned that in school, or had picked it up somewhere on the internet. Cash didn’t say anything to Celesta. They had been talking, and he knew that she was supposedly meeting three others. He told her his story, too. It wasn’t long before she was convinced they were meant to meet, but Cash wasn’t buying into it so quickly. This guy made him nervous, in the same sense that any guy with his hands in his pockets on a dark night can make you nervous. It wasn’t a special feeling in his gut. It was just common sense. So they had both gone quiet, waiting to see if anything would happen. Maybe it was because of his profession, but Cash became nervous when people just stared at him. It rarely meant anything good was about to come. He’s probably just another stupid pedestrian curious about the metal eye, thought Cash when he saw that the man kept staring at his eyes. They never seem to stop, no matter how long I have this thing. Well, I’ll get rid of him. “Listen, pal,” said Cash, when they came up to the man, who appeared to be roughly middle-aged. “Unless you’ve seen an angel telling you to meet me here at midnight, I’m not interested.” Cash made sure he put as much anger and contempt in his voice as he could, to make sure the man knew he was agitated. The man seemed completely surprised to hear what the hacker said. Well, good. Go bother someone else, old man. |
| Celesta stared at Cash, slightly shocked. What on earth was he being so rude and antagonistic for? The man was just standing there, after all. Still, her instincts told her this was one of the people they were supposed to meet, which meant there was only one more to wait for. She was nervous, but a little excited too. Such interesting people they seemed to be. She couldn't wait to find out more about them. She waited patiently to see how the new guy would respond to Cash. |
| Micola forgot about the voices on the path as another person emerged from the darkness. He crossed the expanse of grass and climbed up on the stage, boldy striding to its center and turning to survey the park. Mortal, definitely, but not a bad specimen. He obviously took care of himself and his confidence was appealing. Micola subconsciously licked her fangs, watching him, watch the park. He could be one of the ones she was waiting for. His attention locked on something. Following his gaze, she spotted two others approaching. Darkly dressed and whispering quietly, the woman didn’t notice the shadow on the stage, but her companion did. Micola smirked at the sight of him. Mechanically enhanced, interesting. Technology had come such a long way in such a short period of time. She could remember a time before electricity and now humanity was doing this. They have come so far and yet still have not learned how to get along. She pondered the news story she had heard on the radio on the way from the airport. They can create creatures like this man and yet, they’ll end up blowing up the planet with their nukes. He flexed his mechanical hand into a fist and snapped at the fellow on the stage. His words both startled and confused Micola. These two were here to meet someone at midnight, but he said something about a message from an angel. An angel? What the fuck? The handsome fellow beneath her was obviously startled too because he did not immediately respond. Given the confidence of his stride moments ago, Micola figured he was here to meet them, but was taken aback by either the directness of this man, or the angel comment. Either way, she decided to watch and wait just a little longer. She needed to be sure in such cross-breed matters. Great, Iscariot has sent me into a pack of zealots. Angels. No doubt someone will try to convert me to their “One God”. Little do they know what I think of divinity, what vampires think of divinity. Perhaps I will corrupt one or two by explaining… |
| Macey wasn’t sure which had been more shocking, the fact that the young man had mentioned an angel or the cybernetic hand he used to threaten him with. Cybernetic enhancement wasn’t available to just anybody. Who the heck was this kid? His stare was menacing. Macey decided a little humor might be able to take the edge off. “So the ghost of Biggie Smalls appeared to you too huh?” He added a grin hoping it would be returned. |
| For a while, Cash just gave a blank stare. This guy can’t be for real. None of this can be real. Hell, maybe it's another dream. But ghosts? Angels were bad enough, but ghosts, too? Even I’ve never had a dream that crazy. Who are these people? “No,” Cash said, icily, “as a matter of fact, he didn’t.” The old man gave a kind of embarrassed laugh. “Well, you brought up angels. I thought maybe…” “You know what?” asked Cash in a mocking tone. “I’m going to stop talking now. Celesta, would you be kind enough to take over the conversation before I go completely insane?” |
| "Me? Why is it always up to me?" Celesta snapped. "I'm as lost right now as you are. And isn't there supposed to be a fourth person?" They both stared at her, obviously surprised by her outburst. "I can feel a presence nearby," Celesta continued. "I think the fourth is here, but hiding for some reason. Can't say I blame them, probably thinks we're all fucking nuts. I say we sit here and wait quietly for the last person to arrive, okay?" Celesta sat down on the grass and ignored the two men. |
| The men stared, flabbergasted, at Celesta. They had completely forgotten their mutual irritation with each other at her sudden outbust. And, now she sat there in the grass, refusing to speak or even look at them. Then, from behind them, a loud, mocking burst of laughter echoed through the clamshell. No one was on the stage, nothing in sight but shadows. Micola pushed herself off of her perch, landing gracefully center stage. She laughed again, more mirth than mocking now, but her pale blue eyes sparkled with unspoken scorn. She strode right up to the edge of the stage and dropped with startling suddenness to sit on its edge, swinging her feet to drum her heels against its surface like a child. “So, the witch has some spunk in her,” Micola said favoring Celesta with a crooked smile. Then she shifted her gaze to each of the other two, looking each of them up and down with long, unabashed stares. She took her time appraising them, and then, when satisfied she said, “Yes. I think you’re all fucking nuts.” She boldly met the witch’s eyes as she said so. “But, I have a duty to my people, to my… family. So here I am.” She paused, shifting her gaze among them again, while a knowing smile played at her lips. “At least,” she continued, “I was told to be here by someone ‘real’. Angels? Ghosts? Truly? The elder of my family sent me here. A real person.” She licked her lips again; a sign of her amusement, and a sign she knew she was in control of the conversation for just a bit longer. The crooked smile spread slowly across her lips. Her fangs flashed behind those barely parted lips, but in the darkness, she expected them to miss that, or second guess what they saw. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Micola Medici. I am elder of the Medici family in Florence. That’s Florence, Italy, not Florence, New York.” She rolled her eyes and continued, “Perhaps you should all share what your angels and ghosts told you about tonight’s meeting. Then, maybe, we can get this foolish encounter done and over with, and I can return to my beloved country villa. So, who would like to start?” |
Macey’s heart was still racing from the shock the woman had given him from her sudden entrance. Where the heck had she come from? And what was with that freaky laugh? He knew one thing for certain though, this was definitely the same woman he had heard laughing earlier. She was cocky, but with looks like that why wouldn’t she be? Italian? Yeah, she looked it, built like one of those runway models with a gorgeous face to match. He could probably even find her attractive if not for the attitude, but somehow he doubted she cared much about what other people thought of her. At any rate she seemed to know something, at least more than the rest of them did anyway. Some crap about witches and elders? He sure hoped this wasn’t some freaky cult meeting he had gotten into. But then maybe that’s why he was sent. Could these people be involved with the Iraqi nukes somehow? Possibly, they all looked like fringers to him; people who lived on the edge of society, criminals. The kid was a definite, with that blackmarket tech he was sporting and the bulge in his jacket pocket was most likely a gun. Then there was the girl sitting on the grass. Well, okay, she seemed fairly normal, save for being a little weird. That stuff she was talking about sensing a fourth person turned out to be right though. Some freaky cultist perhaps? That always had antisocial potential. And the last one: Ms. I’m from Italy. Mafia Princess no doubt, that’d certainly explain her attitude—arrogant, untouchable. Yeah, we’ll see about that lady. Macey took a few short steps toward the edge of the stage, hovering over the dark haired beauty. Piece of work or not, she sure was nice to look at. Those eyes, what color were they? Grey? Blue? Maybe— Snap out of it man, he chastised himself, you’re on the clock here. These were potential terrorists. He had to treat this thing seriously. Macey cleared his throat. “I suppose I could go first,” he said. “You can call me Macey. As for why I’m here I’ve already told you that. As for why we’re all here, I was hoping you others could explain a bit more.” He then looked down at the Princess. “Some of us seem to know more than others. Like Ms. Andretti here.” The scowl of indignation Princess shot back at him could kill. In fact, he swore he felt his jaw tighten as her piercing stare met his. He had purposefully used the wrong name, well not entirely—he didn’t really remember her real name anyway. He was terrible with names. He had said Andretti just to get a rise out of her, but wasn’t expecting a reaction like this. “Medici,” she said icily, as if it were the most important name in the world. “Micola Medici… don’t forget it…” She then broke the stare with a roll of her eyes. “Damn mortals.” |
| Cash was certainly starting to feel fucking nuts. Who was this woman supposed to be? She must have known Celesta. I can feel a presence nearby, she had said. Was he really supposed to believe that crap? I can feel a presence nearby? Ha! They must have been together, or something. This was getting to be too confusing anyway. Somewhere between the angels and the witches Cash was beginning to lose track of, well, everything. This Medici chick, she was something else. She knew how to make an entrance—that was certain. You’d have to be a fool to deny that. And she was gorgeous, in a strange way. But she had such a condescending attitude that you couldn’t help but be offended. “Medici,” she said when Macey gave the wrong name. “Micola Medici… don’t forget it.” Cash could have sworn he heard something else, but it was mumbled. He was fairly certain he didn’t want to hear it, anyway. What he really wanted, more than anything, was to be far away from Central Park. He wanted to be home, answering email like he did every night, working on some new security system for a company than was paying him way too much. But his curiosity was getting the best of him. It did that on occasion. In his business it could be dangerous, but he was feeling risky tonight. Well, mostly he was confused, and that was clouding his judgment. But at least he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. For some reason, that made it better. “For the record,” he said, interrupting some kind of tension between Macey and Medici, “I didn’t come because of an angel or a ghost, or anything like that. Just a dream. Surely that’s natural enough for you? My…friend convinced me that I should come and check it out, and I promised her I would. She’s more religious than I am, by far, and thought it might have been her god talking to me.” The older man shot him a glance at that one. He must be religious. Now he’s wondering if I’m not really big into religion or if I’m flat-out atheist. Maybe. Who am I to know? I can’t think clearly any more. Ugh. “That’s my story, more or less. I met Celesta here, and then Macey, and finally you, Miss Medici. Now I’m mostly confused.” |
| "Don't feel bad, Cash. I think we're all a little confused right now," Celesta spoke gently. "The angel only told me that it was up to the four of us to save the world. She wasn't very specific." The others merely stared at her. Celesta was at a loss for words. What the hell were they supposed to do now? |
| “Save the world?” Micola echoed curiously. “Oh, you must be joking.” Celesta’s indignant expression said that she wans’t. Micola thought about it for a moment, wondering if Iscariot knew of this part. As her mind wandered over what little she knew, a sickening realization dawned on her. “Tiresias!” she exclaimed her thoughts wandering. She leapt to the grass and began to pace. “If Iscar is following that old, blind fool, I’ll…” What? What, Micola? With or without Tiresias, Iscariot is still an elder. You still need to follow his commands, no matter how foolish they may be. But foolish indeed, if he was taking counsel with the self-proclaimed seer, the cliché blind prophet… She stopped pacing and turned to face the group with preternatural quickness. “I have to make a phone call and, I suspect, you all will need a stiff drink. Then, I will tell you who I am and who sent me here. You likely won’t believe me, but since I may need to call in some favors, you’re bound to see some strange things.” She paused suddenly noticing the strange stares each of them wore. She laughed a short, playful laugh. She recognized the glazed expression. Sometimes she could get ahead of her own thoughts and forget to explain her actions. She said, “I’ll buy – Whatever you want to drink. And I know just the place. We can have complete privacy while we talk.” |
| Macey shook his head with a roll of his eyes. Ms. Italy certainly seemed obsessed with defining her own self importance. It was enough to turn his stomach, but the woman obviously had answers and only by enduring her ego were they going to learn them. Still, she was at least willing to provide a bit of leadership by recommending they move out of the park and to somewhere more civilized. Although he suspected she was talking about a night club, and if that were the case, then it being civilized was debatable—at least for him anyway. The others would probably feel right at home there though. Then there was what the other girl had said about saving the world. If this had anything to do with nukes then that scenario was quite plausible. Although he would have to wait to see how everything panned out before jumping to that conclusion. Macey looked toward the kid, what was his name? Cash or something the girl had called him. He looked like he was about to blow a fuse, and with that eye of his, maybe literally, but of all the people he seemed to be the most normal, at least compared to these other two. “This is looking to be a long night,” he said with a sigh. “Do me a favor, Cash. If you decide to bail, let me know will ya?” He then smiled at him with a chuckle. “I’m not sure I could handle being alone with these other two. At least you’re still acting like this stuff ain’t normal.” |
| Cash did not want to be Macey’s friend. He was an old man who used the word ‘ain’t’ in conversation, and Cash wanted none of that. But he did want drinks, so he wouldn’t bail just yet. “Sure thing,” Cash said, though, to make the guy feel better. Lying was a part of life, especially for people like Cash. He was good at it. “Now,” he continued, “what about those drinks? I brought my car—I don’t know if anyone else has a ride?” |
| "I walked here, myself," Celesta responded first. "A ride would be greatly appreciated." She wouldn't normally accept rides from strange men, but compared to the other two, he seemed to be the safest bet. Her instincts were telling her that, anyway. She had learned, over the years, to trust her instincts. "I know I could use a drink," she laughed. "This has been one strange day!" |
| “Great! I like the night and all, but the park is rather boring and not as private as you would think.” Micola turned towards Macey. “Why don’t you ride with me then?” she said with a smile and a subtle wink. She turned away without waiting for a response. It didn’t really matter who rode in which car - she just wanted to settle in somewhere more comfortable. *** Someone said, “You have got to be kiddin’ me.” The four strangers stood on a sidewalk across the street from The Night Life. The music reached them easily through closed doors and concrete walls. Micola didn’t bother to respond. It was quicker and easier to show them than to stop and explain. The line to get in reached half-way down the block, but Micola strode right up to the door. The man on the door was the quintessential bouncer. He could moonlight as a defensive tackle or a mafia enforcer. Despite the scowl on his face, he stepped to the side, opening the door, as Micola arrived before him. She stopped before the door, gesturing for the other three to enter ahead of her. The music had grown louder, escaping through the open door. As her companions slipped by quickly, eyeing the bouncer, Micola addressed him directly. “Is the owner in?” “Who’s asking?” Micola’s eyes narrowed. “You tell him Micola Medici is here and expects to be received appropriately. A conference room, a bottle of spirits, and some privacy are required.” *** Bodies pressed together like serpents writhing in a nest crowded the dance floor. Tables encircled the dancers on three sides while a bar ran the full length of the last wall. The four strangers huddled together at a half-wall, looking down on it all, not bothering to say anything, not sure how to react. Micola leaned in among them not trying to speak above the throbbing music that made her ribcage tremor. Instead, she pointed towards the far side of the bar where a dimly lit corridor nestled into the corner of the room. Once they had all fought their way through pale faces, dark dresses, and cold, disinterested stares, they passed by another burly bouncer and climbed a set of narrow stairs. Micola stopped at the top of the staircase. Before her was a tall man dressed in black leather pants and a snug black t-shirt. His rock-star hair the shade of dark chocolate curled along his jaw and fell across his stormy grey eyes. “Micola,” he said, with a bow of his head. “It is an honor.” “Likewise, Tiberius,” she replied. He gestured to his right and the group entered a well-appointed conference room. A long, black lacquer table stretched the length of the room. Around it, a dozen high back, leather office chairs were equally spaced. In the center of the table, forming a perfect square were four up-turned shot glasses, with a bottle of Hennessey X. O. in its center. “Make yourselves comfortable,” Micola said to her companions. Then she turned back to Tiberius who stood in the doorway. “Will you be available should I need anything?” He smiled, leaning in close to her and said, “You only need ask and I will provide.” “Thank you, Tiberius,” she replied. With a firm hand on his chest, she urged him back from the doorway and closed the door. Turning to the others, she said, “Go ahead, have a drink. Have a seat. If you need anything let me know, so we can get down to business. The sooner we can start a civil discussion the sooner we can be done with whatever it is we need to do.” |
| Cash gladly obeyed the woman and took a drink. He downed and refilled his shot glass three times before he passed the bottle on and had a seat in one of the comfy office chairs. “Sorry,” he said as he set the bottle back on the table. “I just needed it.” And that was true enough. Things were going from astoundingly unbelievable to annoyingly unbelievable—from ghosts and angels to nightclubs and conference rooms. The drastic change was enough to bother even the most level headed of folks, or so Cash assumed. “Why the hell are we at a nightclub?” he asked. Maybe he should have been more polite about his words, but he was too tired and confused to care. The alcohol entering his system probably wasn’t helping, either. |
| Celesta took a seat as well. She wasn't sure if drinking was a real good idea, but she drank a shot anyway. She knew she should keep a clear head, but one or two shots never affected her all that much. She wasn't sure what she thought about the others, yet. Though, Micola seemed to be a very interesting woman. She was looking forward to learning more about all of them. Not sure what to say, she sat and sipped on a second shot. It was strange tasting stuff. She thought about asking for tequila, but changed her mind. |
| She studied her companions while they settled into the large, comfortable chairs and helped themselves to the alcohol. She had done this before and knew a good shot or two softened the blow of what was to come. Truly, this conversation was one she preferred to avoid at all costs, but the situation seemed to warrant this knowledge as much as she’d rather keep her secret. Craving a drink herself, she chose to deny herself that one joy. The shock value could be amusing, but she wasn’t about to reveal herself for shock value. These three needed to know what was involved. They needed to understand that she was not just a snooty world traveler, but rather, that her involvement indicated that they were about to be embroiled in something much more important than any of them had previously thought. Her kind did not get involved often. Most times, they would just sit back and let humanity run things in its own way. She did not want to be involved; that she had been ordered to it spoke words beyond mere orders. “Why a nightclub?” she asked, repeating Cash’s question. “Surely you will have more important questions than that. This nightclub is a safe haven, of sorts, for my kind. I have known Tiberius since he was born into this life. I know I can trust him implicitly. I also know that we will be granted complete privacy here, as well as anything else we may need. But Tiberius is not why I brought you here and he is not why we need the privacy. I will answer all of your questions at once, if I am able to do so, but first I should tell you who I truly am.” I paused, searching each face for a reaction. I could seek out their thoughts, but felt that unnecessary. It caused too much unease when one realizes that I have done such a thing. So I don’t, unless I’m forced to do so. The multiple shots did nothing to subdue Cash’s doubts at this whole situation. He was not afraid to make his opinion known, and his opinion right now, was that we were all crazy. Micola suspected he’d be the most outspoken to her impending revelation. Macey hadn’t taken a drink yet and she wished he would, but perhaps he was one of those that couldn’t handle alcohol. He couldn’t handle women either by the look on his face when he thought she wasn’t watching. She smiled softly at him before shifting her gaze to the witch. Despite her temper tantrum earlier, Celesta seemed the most calm about this whole situation. But then, witches tended to experience a bit more of the supernatural anyway, so strange things like tonight and what was to come were not quite as strange to her. Plainly and without emphasis of any kind I said, “I am a vampire.” I licked my lips solely to display the wicked points of my fangs and then continued. “Some of your myths are true and some are not. I will not tell you which ones unless it becomes necessary. What you do need to know is that I am immortal. I have lived for centuries. The elder, Iscariot, who sent me to you, is over 2000 years old. The Sangua, what you call vampires, have lived peaceably with humanity for as long as both races have existed. We sit in the wings, as humans run the world. We rarely get involved in politics, or anything of the sorts, preferring our secrecy to involvement. It is important that you understand this. Because Iscar has ordered me to be among you tonight, I know that something serious is happening. He would not approve our involvement for minor troubles. Whatever we are meant to attend to will affect the world – humans and Sangua globally – otherwise, we would simply watch, knowing humanity knows how to take care of whatever troubles arise.” They did not believe me. Their expressions told me as much before the words left their lips. I expected no less though. “Perhaps,” I said, “you each have some questions? But please, be respectful with your words because you have each seen things you doubt tonight already – angels, ghosts, whatever – and I have little patience for being called a liar.” My expression hardened with my warning but then I smiled warmly. “Let us have a civil discussion. Each of you is free to leave at any time.” I glanced from face to face to face as I settled into a chair. “Ask your questions and then I will answer them all at once. Or, if you prefer, tell me your secrets too. For I am most curious what makes each of you chosen for such a serious matter.” |
| Macey’s stomach began to turn as the woman Micola took her seat. She didn’t appear to be lying; his years of intelligence training could determine that, no she honestly seemed to believe in everything she had just said. That left only two options, that she was either delusional or she was actually telling the truth. Part of him desperately wanted to cling to the former but what she had said did have some merit. After all, he was already half convinced that Biggie had been an angel, but now vampires are real too? Thoughts of cheesy movies and novels flooded back to his mind, filling his imagination with the fictional creatures. Blood sucking, immortality, wooden stakes. With all the vampire mythos out there, perhaps it was possible for a person to convince themselves that they truly existed. Perhaps they could even convince themselves that they were one also. Could this be the case for Micola? Perhaps. No it had to be. But then there were those teeth. So what? Dental surgery could accomplish that. Macey sighed deeply. Fictional or not, one thing was certain, Micola had made it clear she didn’t want her beliefs challenged. And if that were the case, calling her delusional would certainly be counter productive to her revealing perhaps why they were all here. But then there was also what Biggie had said. That his faith would be tested, that things would be revealed to him that he yet did not know. Dear God, could this be it? Could it all be real? His skin bristled as he contemplated it, the fearful possibility of such things being actually true. Vampires. He had to admit, the idea was as intriguing as it was terrifying. How could they be real? What myths were true and which were not? He certainly wanted answers, but his curiosity alone didn’t exactly make them real did it? After all, Micola could still just be some delusional eccentric or something—convinced that she was a vampire. Maybe the purpose of Biggie sending him here was to try to bring her back to reality. But there was something else that flew right in the face of that explanation: logic. As much as he wanted to disbelieve Micola, he couldn’t do that without honestly disbelieving in Biggie as well. But everything Biggie had said thus far had come true. He had come to Central Park. He met three strangers just like was foretold. And he couldn’t deny that these other three were also sent to meet with him, but sent by who? Clearly none of them seemed to believe in God. And if God did not send them, then who or what did? The thought was enough to make a lump form in his throat. Perhaps God hadn’t been the one to send Biggie either. No, he couldn’t think like that. The logic worked in the other direction as well. If Micola was real, then so was Biggie and so was everything he had said. Macey closed his eyes and mouthed a quick prayer. Perhaps this was his true calling. His purpose—to confront this grim reality. To stand for God. He suddenly became aware that he was sweating—a warmth growing inside of him. He felt his uneasiness melt away, replaced by a confidence that he was almost certain was not his own. It was from something else. Suddenly, the words of the angel came flooding back to him with stark realization. “I was visited by an angel of the God Most High,” he said, his mouth moving as if on its own. “The God ‘I AM’. I was ordained High Priest of the Order of Melchizedek. I was told to come here and that I would learn things I yet to not know.” As Macey slowly opened his eyes he jumped back in his seat startled. He could not fathom what he was seeing. The woman Micola was shrouded in an aura, like wisps of crimson smoke. He looked to Celesta and saw her covered in the same only its color was a deep jade. Finally, he saw his own hands covered in an azure blue. “My God,” he said, still looking at his palms and then he glanced over at cash, his aura a pale white. Macey could see the irritation on Cash’s face as he kept staring, but he couldn’t help it. “Cash,” he said. “I think there’s something very special about you.” |
| Vampire. The word slowly entered Cash’s mind. It stayed for a while. Cash knew the meaning, but he couldn’t quite stick it to something real, alive and walking. He knew vampires weren’t real. He wasn’t ten years old any more! And yet there had been something about the woman. What was it? Cash closed his natural eye and turned on the night vision of his mechanical eye. He looked to where Micola was sitting. She didn’t give off any body heat. Oh yes, he thought. That was it. Vampire? Maybe. That would explain the whole body heat thing. Still, I haven’t had enough drinks to buy this. Not yet. Maybe a couple more shots… Because he was looking for body heat, Cash noticed that Macey was sweating. He opened his eye and switched the mechanical one back to normal. What’s up with this guy? “I was visited by an angel of the God Most High,” Macey said. “The God ‘I AM’. I was ordained High Priest of the Order of Melchizedek. I was told to come here and that I would learn things I yet to not know.” Cash blinked in irritation. Something seemed to be wrong to the man. “Cash, I think there’s something very special about you,” Macey whispered with awe. “Really?” asked Cash sarcastically. “Miss Medici here is supposed to be a vampire, you’re now calling yourself a high priest, and I’m the special one?” He decided to ignore Macey. The man was staring wide-eyed from person to person, and it irked Cash. He needed to calm down. “What about you, Celesta?” he asked. “Are you special like me? Or are you something else? We’ve got a vampire and a high priest! Ha! Are you a necromancer? I always thought that would be kind of cool. Or maybe a unicorn in disguise? You aren’t from the future are you?” Cash took another shot. He was barely able to get it down, he was laughing so hard. |
| Celesta gave Cash a dirty look. "I'm a witch," she stated, bluntly. "I am also an empath. I can read people pretty well, though I can't actually read minds unless the person is sending signals quite strongly. I cast spells and I read Tarot cards. I also have the ability to heal." She sat back and eyed the others, waiting to see how they would react. She figured they couldn't find her that much stranger than the vampire. But, then, you never know how people will react to the kind of announcement she had just made. She was getting some very strange feelings from Macey. His religious beliefs might become a problem if they were really to work together. She felt uneasy. It was the Christians that had once burned witches at the stake, after all. She hoped he could be at least a little more open-minded. |
| I had to admit to myself that the religious zealot startled me. I think he startled himself too though and that amused me. At least, he was willing to start listening and acting. I addressed him first, "I've never heard of Melchizedek. I'd be curious to hear about this order some time." I added a charming smile before looking over the second male. Cash on the other hand seemed dead set against believing a word of what was going on. I couldn't figure out why he even showed up in the park in the first place. With his doubts, he also kept himself hidden. I wondered what his purpose in all this was. Would we need his biomedical enhancements in someway? I shrugged inwardly, if he kept drinking like that he'd loosen up eventually. I felt the witch's power flare up as she spoke. She was stronger than she let on, or perhaps stronger than she knew. Tarot, huh? That could be interesting. It depends on how she reads though. I've seen it work and I've seen it fail. If she tunes in to the minds around her, it will work. If she's just guessing at random pictures... well, we won't know until she tries. "It seems no one has specific details on what we are meant to accomplish together." I paused looking around the room. Celesta glowered at Cash. Cash took another shot. Macey looked lost in thought. "I'm open to suggestions. What do you think we are here for? Or perhaps, if no one has any productive information to offer, Celesta can read her cards?" I had no issues with putting someone on the spot. Would she squirm? Or would she step up to the challenge? I was betting on stepping up to the challenge. |
| Macey found himself mesmerized by the auras surrounding him. He supposed there was no second guessing now. If he ever needed a sign from God this certainly was it. This was all for real. But what did these auras mean? The colors? Red, Green, Blue and White? Well the Vampire was red, no surprise there. Red represents death perhaps? Blood? Evil? Maybe. The witch was green—nature perhaps? He thought that’s what they mostly believed in anyway. And himself blue, God, holiness? Good enough he supposed, then what about Cash? He was white, what did that mean? And why did these colors seem so familiar anyway? Red, Green, Blue and White. He pondered whether he should share this revelation with the others. Maybe. He wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing anyway, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. After all they seemed to be allies—for the moment at least. He still didn’t too much like the idea of hooking up with a witch and a vampire, but God led him here and that had to have some purpose. “Ah, before you go breaking out the deck there, Celesta,” he said to her with a smile, “perhaps there’s something I can share.” He really wasn’t too keen on getting his fortune told by a witch. Whatever power she called on to do that wasn’t from God and perhaps the colors were revealing that to him. “I’m able to see these auras surrounding each of us. Ms. Medici you are surrounded by a red aura. Celesta your aura is green. Mine is blue and Cash your aura is white. I’m not sure of the significance or relation, but this is what I’m able to see now.” He paused looking at each of them. “I’m not sure how much that helps. Do those colors mean anything to any of you?” |
| Cash was done laughing now. The others were taking this far too seriously. Celesta even had a deck of cards out. Now this Macey guy was saying something about…something. It was hard to understand him. Auras? What was that supposed to even mean? First a vampire. Cash was actually close to believing that at this point. After all, it was hard to argue with his mechanical eye. Certainly there was something strange about her. And she did have sharp teeth. Second a high priest. At least that was possible. Well, up until the point where he started seeing strange auras or something. Cash wasn’t quite sure he was ready to believe that one. He would have felt a lot better if Macey had been drinking—he could have totally blamed that. Third a witch. No pointy hat or anything, but she did have a deck of tarot cards with her. She was also claiming she could read minds. That was bad news for Cash, someone who dealt with a lot of illegal activity. You know, he thought, if I’m going to have my mind read I might as well share it with the rest of them. This is probably just the alcohol talking, but that’s never stopped me before! “Is it my turn to share?” he asked, managing to only slur his words a little. “I’m not a werewolf or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m a computer hacker! Is that strange enough for your guys? Probably not. Well, I don’t actually hack so much these days. Mostly I’m paid not to hack people. ‘S good money, it is.” Vampires, witches and priests, oh my! Cash laughed again at that thought. His head hit the table softly. He chuckled to himself for a while, aware that everyone was watching him act like a drunken fool. I’m not drunk, he thought to himself. I’ve had way more than this. I’m just trying to deal with what you people are telling me. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up. “Go on. Tell the future or talk about auras. Whatever you were doing. Sorry to interrupt!” |
| Celesta looked at Cash, trying to decide if she should try to read him. He seemed drunk, but then, something wasn't right...he wasn't "reading" drunk. She couldn't explain that, but she felt he was putting on a bit of an act. Something was worrying him. She shuffled the cards, absent-mindedly, trying to get a feel for the others. The vampire was definitely telling the truth, that was very clear. Macey was very religious and bothered by a witch and a vampire being part of his "God's" plan. But, he was also trying very hard to be open-minded. She could feel his honesty and decency. That was a good sign. She found the aura thing interesting. She had never been able to see auras, personally, so the colors meant nothing to her. Maybe the vampire would know. If not, she could probably look the information up in her vast collection of occult books, at home, later. She kept silent for now, not sure what to say. |
| Micola remained perfectly still, watching the interactions. Macey was fascinated with this new-found ability to see auras. His eyes shined like a child; it brought a smile to her lips. She thought about the colors he saw, they probably meant something to him, whether he knew it or not. Blood red for the vampire – cute. She waited, silently, while Cash once again made himself center of attention with his boorish nature. She had been counting shots and knew that despite the number, they couldn’t be affecting him this quickly. This must be his way with dealing with the sudden influx of strange occurrences tonight. She had seen it before; humans often struggled in strange ways when their reality was called into question. Micola figured he’d drink himself silly, and the hangover to follow would sober him up more than just physically. She smiled at him fondly, as he half-heartedly apologized. A knock at the door interrupted her contemplations. A young woman with black hair, streaked with green, peeked in. She met Micola’s eyes, and when the vampire didn’t react she waltzed into the room carrying a tray with a silver decanter and a wine glass. “Please excuse my interruption,” she said addressing only Micola. “Tiberius thought you may wish your preferred beverage to the cognac.” Micola studied her visitor with cold brown eyes for several seconds before saying, “Thank you.” The woman set the tray on the table and poured a glass of deep red wine. The fluid was warm enough to fog the edges of the goblet slightly. “Leave me,” Micola said. The woman bowed her head and left without another word. Micola lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled deeply, her eyes falling closed as she enjoyed the scent. She took a small sip, savoring the flavor a moment before draining the glass. |
| “This could be something,” Macey said. “I’m an agent for the Homeland Security Department. I was transferred to New York to address a specific threat. Honestly, I nearly forgot about it until now with all these spiritual revelations, but when the angel appeared to me, he said that the message he had would pertain to why I was here.” He paused a moment glancing at the witch. “I guess that could mean why I was in New York and if that’s the case then maybe our coming together really can do with saving the world as Celesta said…I was called out here to look into the possibility of a nuclear terrorist threat. This was all sparked by the nukes they uncovered in Iraq recently.” |
| “I didn’t know homeland security employed high priests!” Cash nearly shouted. He probably wasn’t drunk yet, but it was getting hard to tell. He was certainly well on his way. “But, hey, we are totally the four people I would have picked to stop a nuclear war,” he continued. Cash looked up and realized he was getting icy glares from around the table. He was obviously being obnoxious again. He did that sometimes. Normally he would have continued, just to see how pissed he could make his company. But these weren’t his usual companions, and this wasn’t his usual hangout. “Oh, fine, I’ll stop,” he said to them. No one had asked him to stop anything, but no one seemed surprised when he said it, either. “I’ll be good, Mommy, I promise. Just do the damn thing with the damn cards so I can damn well get out of this damn nightclub. Damn.” |
| Celesta pulled her well-worn Rider-Waite mini-tarot deck from her pocket. She always carried them with her, since they were small, they were easy to keep on her. She quietly shuffled the deck a few times and then cut it three times. She dealt out a standard Celtic Cross layout and studied it, carefully. "The first card represents us, as a group. 'The Magician': The Magician represents energy. This card tells me that the four of us have great power, if we tap into it and work together we'll be strong and can accomplish whatever we need to do." Celesta paused, waiting to see if anyone would comment, but they all simply sat and watched her, waiting to hear about the next card. "The second card is what surrounds us. 'The High Priestess' represents intuition and mystery. We must trust our intuition. Secrets will be revealed. The third card represents our obstacles. 'Justice' tells me that the law may become a problem for us. Those who wish to prevent us from achieving our goals may use law enforcement agencies against us. We must be very careful not to attract unnecessary attention to our activities." Celesta paused again, taking a sip from her drink. She waited to see if anyone would have any questions so far. |
| I filled my cup from the heated carafe before moving to the seat beside Cash. "Quality drinks shouldn't be wasted," I said spinning my glass under my nose. I was close enough that if he was paying attention, he may catch a whiff and wonder why it doesn't smell quite like wine. "If you wish to get sloshed, I wouldn't dream of objecting. Would you prefer something besides cognac to help you along?" He was considering the offer, I could tell. "If this is your plan, the let me know where you'd prefer to sleep it off before you pass out. At dawn, you're on your own." |
| Cash was just about to comment on how the police were after him most of the time anyway, in response to Celesta’s ‘reading,’ but Micola sidled along side him and was making a very temping offer. She was close, too. Very close. She was also very, very attractive. Cash wondered for a moment how far he could get her to go. Then the word ‘vampire’ came into his mind, smacking him back into his senses. “Quality drinks should not be wasted,” he repeated innocently, making sure not to slur any of his words. “You are right.” And he had been planning on getting quite drunk. That’s not how it started, but dealing with the others was going to be a lot easier if he wasn’t sober. Not that he was sober now, or anything, but at least he wasn’t completely out of inhibitions. The idea of getting completely drunk in front of three strangers suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea. The so-called high priest Macey was a cop! Well, he worked for the department of homeland security, but it was close enough. I shouldn’t have told them I was a hacker. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They don’t know where I live, though. I can’t get drunk—not tonight. At least not completely. All these thoughts were in and out of Cash’s head in an instant. He was a fast thinker. He met Micola’s gaze, which was surprisingly hard to do. “I don’t think I should get drunk in front of a bunch of strangers,” he said. “I don’t know if any of you can really be trusted. Agent High Priest over here might call in a favor and throw me in a jail cell. The witch might take me back to her cottage made of gingerbread and eat me alive. As for you, little miss vampire, can you really expect me to trust you the first time we’ve met? I don’t know what you could or would do. Part of me doesn’t think that’s wine in your glass, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I think I believe you are a vampire, by the way. You don’t give off any body heat. That strikes me as odd.” There. Now they all know I don’t trust them. At least I won’t lie to them about that. I’ve probably offended them, but that’s nothing new. “I could probably do with a glass of water, though, if it isn’t too much trouble.” |
| Celesta stared at the cards, thoughtfully. She was glad Micola was distracting the men at the moment. The seventh card was disturbing her, greatly. She wasn't sure if she should tell them what it really meant. Even though she was only on the fourth card, she wasn't sure she was ready to continue the reading. She had never lied to anyone during a reading, but they were already edgy and unsure...what should she do? Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. "The fourth card represents our foundation. 'The Moon'. Basically, this means that we need to be able to move forward without knowing exactly where we stand or what we may be getting into. We have to stay calm and have faith and know that our night journey will eventually lead to daylight. Does anyone have any questions?" Celesta knew she was stalling for time, but it was the only plan she had. |
| When Cash jerked his thumb over his should at Macey, Micola understood his concern. She, too, was wary of Homeland Securities being involved. The last thing the Sangua needed was some young buck trying to make a name for himself in order to get a promotion. Hey, look! I’ve uncovered an underground of vampires. Then again, she suspected that it wasn’t his agency that chose him for this given his sudden inspiration to religious babble. "Daylight?" Micola rolled her eyes at the witch. "That's inevitable, isn't it? My apologies Celesta. I do not mean to mock you. Let's get as far as we can before daybreak though. I can get rather churlish after sunrise.” She stood, looking down at Cash. “I can arrange some water and perhaps a meal too?” She was grateful that he had realized the intent behind her offer. Drunken behavior would sideline the entire group, and she couldn’t afford to waste dark hours. Micola leaned close and watched Cash’s eyes drift to her cleavage. In his ear, she whispered, “Who said I was drinking wine?” She stood and winked at him before turning towards the door. |
| “I wouldn’t mind some water,” Macey piped up. He was thankful Cash had made the recommendation. He wasn’t too interested in alcohol. The colored auras still danced within his vision, a constant reminded that no matter how much his mind said to disbelieve, that everything that was happening was in fact real. That meant the witch’s predictions were real too. If so the Justice card was quite revealing. The people or persons they were supposed to stop could use Law enforcement used against them? If that were the case, then maybe the nuclear threat was more domestic than external. Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t coming up with any leads from the Islamic groups. Celesta said that they each had powers and needed to work together, to trust their intuition. That came as almost second nature to Macey, after all his years as an intelligence operative, and right now his intuition was screaming at him. “My best guess for why we are all here is that this nuclear threat must be real,” he told them. “That’s something that can affect all of us, no mater what our backgrounds.” He shot a quick glance at Micola to get her reaction from his last statement. Vampire or not, blowing up the world couldn’t be good for anybody—not even her people. “I’ve come up with some theories as for our roles in all this as well,” he continued. “For me, it’s my job, stopping terrorists is part of what I do. Celesta if you have the gift of divination, perhaps your role is to guide us to who is responsible for the threat. Micola, I think you’ve already demonstrated that you are our sponsor; you have the resources and connections to get us wherever we need to go and take care of us when we get there. Cash if you’re a hacker, my best guess is that you’re our intel man.” Macey paused a second to look over at him. “You come across any information lately that you think can tie into any of this?” |
| Macey was asking a question. Cash was fairly certain it had been directed towards him. And yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to focus in on the conversation. He kept thinking about vampires not drinking wine. I think I just shivered, he thought. Damn. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” he asked. Too much is going on at once, thought Cash. Celesta is still doing her reading, and it’s almost like no one is listening. Micola is…what is it that Micola is trying to do? Besides getting us some refreshments. And that wink! As for Macey, well, he is trying to have his own little conversation. How am I supposed to keep up? And what am I doing? Trying to listen to everyone at once. We’re doomed. How can a group like this save the world? We can’t even sit a table and patiently listen to each other. Oh wait. Macey is talking again. I’m off in my own world, too, drowning in thought. What is it he wants? Something about…intelligence? Oh, intel on the nuclear problem. Did I read about it in the news this morning…yesterday morning? “I don’t have any information,” said Cash to Macey, his head still ringing with Micola’s condescending voice. “I don’t really like to get involved with the government.” That was true enough. Cash wasn’t interested a bit in politics. He was far too busy dealing with private companies to worry about the government. Besides, that would only bring trouble. “You aren’t just saying that because I work for the government, are you?” asked Macey. Ah, the man is smart. Too bad that isn’t why at all. At least I can tell he isn’t brain dead. “Actually, no, not this time,” said Cash. “Government stuff is too much work for not enough reward. It isn’t worth my time. Too risky, anyway.” “Oh,” replied the homeland security agent. Cash wasn’t certain if Macey believed him or not, but it didn’t really matter. “I think we should pay a little more attention to the reading,” said Cash, trying to change the subject. “I’m sure Celesta has a lot to tell us.” What had the forth card been? The moon, was it? Something about moving without knowing exactly where or why. Have faith? Ugh. “The moon card,” said Cash. “I don’t know if I like that one. It, too, sounds like it could be rather risky. I’m not going to do go anywhere without knowing why. Not if I can help it. A man in my business doesn’t last long without taking steps to make sure everything is safe.” He looked at Celesta, who was staring at the cards. She didn’t seem to like what she was seeing. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?” he asked with a sigh. “I’m sure it is. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. They’re just cards.” |
| "Just cards?" Celesta snapped, irritably. "I wish they were 'just cards'. Unfortunately, I'm a gifted Tarot reading and my readings are over 99% accurate." She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Snapping at Cash wasn't going to solve anything. Things were tense enough. "I'm sorry, Cash. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just nervous. And a little frightened. I don't know how the four of us are supposed to save the world, we can't even seem to get along with each other." She thought about his perceptive statement and debated on how to answer it. Should she tell them about the card that showed the near future? It was "The Tower"...Crisis. That wasn't always a bad thing, of course. Sometimes revolutions brought important changes, look at the Revolutionary War, for one. But, it didn't mean it wouldn't be dangerous, difficult, even deadly. Celesta remained silent, disturbed by her thoughts. |
| Micola stepped into the hallway, but left the door ajar so she could still hear the conversation. The woman who had brought her drink waited in the hall, leaning against the wall. "Are you left here for me?" Micola asked. The woman nodded and pushed away from the wall to stand straight. "Good, I need a couple of things." As they discussed what Micola wished, Micola also listened to the conversation in the room. The servant slipped away leaving Micola to her thoughts. Her companions were growing tired and frustrated. She was not surprised. It was bound to happen when you bring together four very different strangers. They would bicker and then they would figure it out. They always did. She felt a small wave of relief that the politics of such things came back to her so easily. One of the benefits of a preternaturally enhanced mind – one does not truly forget much. She sighed softly before returning to the room. She wasn’t tired but she sensed the tension in the room and such emotions were draining. Silently, she settled into her seat, glancing over the cards spread before the witch. She couldn’t forget. The last witch she had known tried to teach her the cards, but magic is beyond the Sangua. So, while she knew Celesta was bothered by what she saw, she couldn’t figure out why. “Macey is right,” she said, dragging her thoughts from the witch. “We each have a purpose. We each have been chosen for our specialties. It would do no good to select people at random. My role is always the benefactor, the sponsor, as you say it. I have connections that mortals could not have and my private jet is fueled and ready at JFK if we need it. I have other skills that will come in handy should certain ‘conflicts’ arise. “I’ve arranged for a couple of laptops to be brought up. Cash, I assume you could make use of one, and Macey, you’re welcome to the other, if you can tap into your network for clues.” I turned to the witch and said, “I figure you have no interest in such things since you have a different kind of connection.” I kept my tone even and unthreatening, often enough I tend to set people on edge just being Sangua, so I have found that adjusting the way I say and do things sometimes will let people know that I won’t make a meal of them if I like them. |
| Macey smiled with a slight nod of his head. “Thank you, Micola. I think we’re finally making some headway here. There’s no sense trying to deny the situation. It simply is. We just have to make the most of it.” He then turned to Celesta. “So what are those readings telling you? You haven’t said very much.” |
| Cash blinked. A laptop? What did they expect him to be able to do with a laptop? Oh, sure, he could probably hack the basic systems if he wanted to, but what good would it do? He needed more sophisticated software than what would be in the laptop. Plus, he wouldn’t have of his security programs designed to keep anyone from tracing him back. “Listen,” he said, “as much as I appreciate the laptop I’d rather not use it.” Micola seemed…surprised? That wasn’t really the right word for it. It was difficult to read the vampire’s emotions, that was certain. She at least appeared to be less in control than usual. “It isn’t anything personal,” said Cash. “I just, well, it’s too risky. I’d rather do it from my home. I have better equipment, including security programs that’ll keep the system from being completely shut down. I could do any search ten times as fast from my own system.” The vampire seemed to be considering this. “I don’t know what I could find anyway,” said Cash. “I can get into a lot, that’s true. But there has to be some kind of connection. Anything really important is probably stored in an isolated system. It would be impossible to get to without going into the system directly at the source. ‘S basic knowledge. I could scan for emails and the like, but it would be the equivalent to doing a google search. Only I would have more sources to search through. There are plenty of people talking about this nuclear thing, you know. It’s hard to weed out the annoying forum talk from anything remotely important.” She seemed to consider this, too. Seemed. Cash couldn’t guess if she really was or not. It was a difficult thing they wanted. Oh, but wait… “Macey might have access to isolated government networks,” said Cash. “I never thought of that. Although if he can get to that through a regular laptop I probably can, too. Still, if I use his access I wouldn’t have as many tracks to cover. I might be able to do it without my equipment. It would, however, require a large amount of trust from Mr. Macey.” Cash looked at the government agent. He didn’t appear too thrilled with the idea. “If I’m caught all fingers will point to him. He’s probably lose his job, and there’s a chance he’d even do time in prison. His reputation would certainly be ruined, assuming he has some kind of reputation.” He let the idea simmer for a moment. The vampire’s face was completely expressionless this time. “We can talk about that later, though?” Cash suggested. “Back to this so-called reading.” He got another icy glare from Celesta. That was to be expected. Still. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m ready to believe Micola here is a vampire, simply because she doesn’t give off body heat. She is certainly something I’ve never encountered before. I’m not sure about Macey as a high priest with visions of auras, though. He’s a good actor, but it seems a little farfetched. I don’t see any reason why I should believe you a witch with the powers of magic. And even if I did, I refuse to believe a deck of cards can tell the future, even in the vague sense that you are doing right now. You shuffle the cards, damn it. It’s just chance!” She seemed to be trying to fight her anger. Cash probably should have stopped there. But that wasn’t his style. He wasn’t going to stifle his opinion on the matter simply because it was upsetting someone. If anything that would make him go farther. “Not that it appears difficult to fake. ‘The moon means we won’t know where we are going or why, but we should trust that we’ll get there!’ Come on! I can walk out the door and down the street and make that ‘prediction’ come true! What was it before? The magician ‘telling’ us that if we work together we will have ‘great power.’ Right. Then the high priestess, correct? Intuition and mystery. Hah! Trust your intuition, right? My intuition is telling me this card reading stuff is crap. And, finally, the third card. Justice. The law won’t be on our side? Welcome to my world. Maybe for the fifth card you’ll tell me I’m going to eat today? Please. I am not impressed.” Cash almost reached for another shot of the alcohol, if only for dramatic effect, but remember why he had stopped. He could sure use that water right about now. “But please, by all means, continue.” Oh, she’s angry now, thought Cash. Maybe she’ll snap. That would be kind of interesting to watch. It would certainly lighten my mood. There’s nothing quite like a good argument. |
| Celesta took a very deep breath and counted to ten. Then, she counted to ten again. Oh boy did she want to snap right now. But, it wouldn't solve anything. He was a cynic, and that was fine. There was nothing wrong with being suspicious, after all, he didn't know her. Why should he trust her or believe her? She had no right to expect that from any of them. She could only do her best and hope to prove herself as time wore on. Still, he was right. The cards weren't being overly helpful, really. They were telling them things that they pretty much already knew. She sighed again. Sometimes being a witch was more of a pain in the ass then anything. "You're right, Cash," she said, calmly. "This reading really isn't all that helpful. I'm tense and nervous and maybe right now isn't the time for a reading. I'm worried because the card that comes up for the near future is 'The Tower'...that card means crisis. Again, we already know that we're going to be going into some dangerous and potentially fatal situations. I think I'll put the cards away for now, and we should concentrate on figuring out what our first step should be." Celesta put her cards away and sat quietly, watching the others' reactions carefully. |
| After twenty minutes of potential ideas, theories, taunts, and random musings, the dark-haired girl returned. She left the laptops and two brown, paper bags in front of Micola, bowed her head to the vampire and left again. Micola pushed the bags across the table with a sneer of disgust. She gestured at them with an off-handed wave, "Help yourselves. Subs, chips, fruit, water, soda..." She trailed off with a wrinkle of her nose. As the others chose their meals and dug in, happy for the distraction, Micola brought one of the computers to Macey, flipped it open beside him and hit the power button. It took only a few short moments to load a password screen. She pierced her forefinger on one sharp fang. A drop of bright red blood swelled and threatened to drop to the table. She wiped the droplet across a small black sensor panel built into the keyboard and the password screen went blank. A second later it flashed the words: Access Approved. She turned to Macey and said, "This building has a wireless connection that feeds through multiple servers before going to public domains." She shook her head as if she couldn't be bothered to learn the exact explanation, "Or something like that. Now Cash has never tested our systems as far as I know, but it should be fairly secure and near impossible to trace back to us." |
| Macey had just started to become interested in the food that was brought in, when he quickly dissuaded by Micola’s unique password system. Her being a real vampire or not, became entirely moot at that point. If she wasn’t real, she was taking the façade far enough that she might as well be. As the computer came online, Cash’s words came back to his mind. Would he really be willing to give his access security code to this kid? Well, at least he was honest enough to lay out the risks. His career, reputation, family? Macey cradled his nosed between clasped hands. If this truly was God’s will, and the glowing auras were a constant reminded that it was, then he’d have to trust Cash. If made sense that his hacking skills, combine with the military access could produce some significant results. If that’s what they were here for, they might as well get to it. His fingers flew over the keys as he accessed the Home Land Security site and accessed his account. He then turned the laptop toward Cash. “Don’t make me regret this, Cash,” he told him as he grabbed for a sub and soda. “I want you to tell me exactly what you’re doing as you go in there, alright?” |
| Cash looked at the computer with a kind of foggy haze. He was tired. He was realizing, slowly, that he was tired. He had been up this late many times before, but not after being up so early in the morning. He was also a bit disappointed. Celesta had not argued. Oh, she had been plenty angry. That was easy enough to see in her eyes. But Cash didn’t like upsetting people only to see them control it. Anger was a tool to Cash. He used it to throw people off so they would let down their guard. She had given up on the ridiculous card “reading,” though. There was that to be said about her lack of an outburst. Still, he would get to her eventually, at least if they really were going to have to spend time together “saving the world.” Cash rolled his chair to be beside Macey. This was important. Cash wasn’t sure about any of the people he was around, but the homeland security agent seemed the most freaked out about everything (other than Cash himself). That meant he was feeling human. “This way,” said Cash, next to Macey, “you can see everything I do as I do it. Fair?” “Fair,” said Macey, watching the screen. Not that I couldn’t just mess around in coding, thought Cash. You wouldn’t know anything going on most likely. I’m sure you know how to use a computer, but I doubt you know anything about how they work. But I won’t do that. It is safer to work with coding and the actual computer. That way, you could see if you messed up. “This first thing I’m going to do,” said Cash, “is find out how strong the security of this night club really is. I’m just going to test it.” Cash pushed a small button on his metallic left hand. A tiny chip came out. “A little bit of basic software,” Cash explained to the room. “It’ll speed things up.” Cash effectively hacked the system he was using, making it look like he was outside the network. It wasn’t easy. Whenever he broke through a level of the protection he made it stronger, until he had his own walls set up through the entire system. If he could change the password he doubt that the original owners would have been able to get in. Password… Blood as a password? What was that all about? It was safe, Cash admitted, but a bit over the top. Still, he wouldn’t be able to get back into the system unless he created a backdoor of some kind. He had looked to see if one existed, but he had found nothing. Creating one would take hours. He doubt people would be that patient. Macey watched. Cash could see the incomprehension in his eyes. No shock there. Hacking a security system wouldn’t be something he was used to. Cash opened up a word processor and typed. Macey, do not react to what I am typing at all. Continue to eat and see if you can’t keep up your blank stare. Cash saw from the corner of his eye that Macey wasn’t moving. I’m going to look around the network a bit and see if I can find anything out about the vampire. This will probably be my only chance to do so. I doubt I’ll find anything, but I’ll try. Cash thought about something. The vampire bleeds, as we have seen. Which brings up the question, if it bleeds can we kill it? Can immortality really be achieved? I don’t think she’s invincible. Just be wary. I don’t trust her.(/I} Truth be told, Cash didn’t trust Macey, either. The man could probably have Cash thrown in jail, and Cash saw no reason why he shouldn’t. But he was human. And Celesta…she was either a witch or she was insane. Either way, hard to trust that. Besides, thought Cash, I don’t trust him, but it is obvious that he trusts me. “Security looks fairly good,” said Cash, minimizing the word processor. “I’ll start my search, but don’t expect anything.” *** After an hour, Cash gave up. “I’ve got virtually nothing,” he said. As he did he brought the word processor up again. “Iran has recently admitted to have nuclear technology, but we’ve known about it for years. The US’s position is one of defense, at least officially. We’ve got interceptors ready at every boarder, as does most of the world. We have people watch around the clock for the things to be fired. We’re going to try to protect anyone attacked, that’s for sure. The US is really just waiting for an excuse to attack. We’ve also bumped security at airports, of course, and there in an increase in the amount of de-radiation air filters being produced.” Cash typed. Macey casually glanced at the screen. I’ve found nothing about the vampire, either. Several other computers share this network, but almost all of them are completely clean of information. They aren’t keeping anything important, that’s for sure. I suppose I could have fiddled with the register a bit, but what’s the point, right? I know nothing. “As for Iran,” said Cash, “you can imagine that they haven’t kept anything important accessible, either. Anything real vital is on a computer without an internet connection, I suppose. I’ve found no plans to attack or use the technology in any way. Officially, they are using it for defense, too.” Cash looked around the room as he closed the word processor. Macey and Celesta seemed tired and bored. It was hard to say about Micola. She didn’t seem anything. Her face was expressionless. Well, probably, anyway. It was difficult to focus on her for too long, anyway. She seemed to only express emotions when she wanted to, meaning that she probably wasn’t going to show an emotion unless she wanted it shown. How can you trust something like that? thought Cash. Seemingly emotionless, only showing how she felt when she wanted you to see it. Cash wielded anger as a weapon. It seemed Micola used her own emotions as tools to pry people open. Completely in control, everything calculated in degrees of usefulness…or so it appeared to Cash, someone who ideally would have been able to do the same. “Sorry, guys,” he said. He meant it to sound sincere up in came out sarcastically anyway. “I guess I’m not so useful as you might think.” |
| Micola shrugged it off. Truth be told, if this did have to do with the news on Iraq’s nuclear projects, she hadn’t expected to find anything that easily. It’s not like evil dictators make a habit of outlining their intentions on www.takeovertheworld.com. “Ok, so we can’t hack our way into anything productive,” she said. “But what about Homeland Security itself? Any classified news bulletins that may indicate a direction? Macey, even just general information that they may have sent out to agents could give us a starting point.” She didn’t want to distract them while they ate. Apparently, whoever had been sent on the errand of finding food hadn’t put much thought into it. The scent of pepperoni, salami, garlic, and other pungent smells filled the room with each bite. It was more distracting that the scent of mortal blood, but only because she had taken the time to feed before heading for the park tonight. “I’ll be awake until dawn. I know each of you may not be used to staying up all night. We should discuss how we wish to deal with the need for sleep. Do we wish to stay together until this is sorted out? It may make you uncomfortable, but I think it would be best to be nearby should we make any progress. I’d hate to lose time traipsing across the city from apartment to apartment should a lead develop.” Micola recognized the discomfort on each face. No one ever wanted to lower their guard that much around a vampire. What they sometimes didn’t realize was that it wouldn’t matter to her if they slept or not. If she wanted to feed off of them, she could do so now. She could pick any one of them and the other two would be powerless to stop her. So sleeping shouldn’t be an issue. |
If the vampire thought she was going to be invited over for a slumber party, she wasn't as smart as she seemed. Of course, the only reason Cash thought she was smart was because he couldn't get a read on her. That was typically a good indicator. "Don't you have to sleep in a coffin, or something?" asked Cash. Now, even he knew that was probably a stupid myth. "I don't sleep in a coffin," said the Micola. "I sleep in a bed." "But where?" asked Macey. "I've been in a hotel room since we got here, so I've nothing to offer." "My apartment isn't even big enough for me," said Celesta. "I'm afraid I can't have any guests at all." "You're not coming to my place," said Cash. Who did they think they were? "Not a chance in hell. I bet the vampire is too good to share a room with mortals, anyway. You wouldn't want to show any weakness in front of us mortals, would you?" God, she's pretty... But that was okay. Cash was always a complete ass to pretty women. It was self defense. "I don't want to share a room with a cop, anyway," said Cash. "He knows too much about me already. His god is probably telling him to do the right thing and turn me in right now, anyway. Hark!" Cash smiled and laughed. What am I doing? Oh well. I'll figure that out later. "As for the witch," he said, facing Celesta, "I'm not interested in being turned into a frog. Or is your specialty soul stealing? Or perhaps you know the proper spells to kill a vampire? Wooden stake, galric, and an eye of newt! Always an eye of newt, never understood that. Careful, though! Macey might burn you!" There. Now everyone should hate everyone else, but mostly hate me. Maybe they'll all go home and pretend this didn't happen. Or maybe they'll decide to drink my blood/steal my soul/shoot me in the face. Awesome. I really am an idiot. Well...let's see what happens next... |
| Celesta was beginning to wish she did know how to turn people into frogs. Cash was really starting to get on her nerves. She understood that he was frightened and that all his bluster and insults were just a way to hide that fact from others. It was still annoying as hell. She sat quietly, contemplating the situation. She knew that they would have to find a way to get along and work together or all would be lost. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure how the hell they were ever going to come to any kind of agreement when they couldn't even stand to be in the same room with each other. She decided not to say anything. Maybe the vampire would have an idea. |
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