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Chapter -18- Situation Room

Friday, October 1, 2049 - 10:40am Seattle, Washington ...

Vincent rubbed his nose. He stared at the motel sign and frowned.

He tipped his taxi driver and watched as the car maneuvered around a construction crew, lying asphalt.

Vincent's gaze shifted to the machines being used to lay the asphalt. He scrunched his brows in confusion - the crew was applying a substance before the layer of blacktop.

Vincent rubbed his nose again. He turned towards the motel. The sign advertised efficiencies and a small laundromat around back.

He walked through the parking lot with his cellphone. The GPS mapping application announced, "You have arrived at your destination."

He put his phone into his pocket and continued through the parking lot, focusing on the sensation of radioactivity. He felt drawn to a faint sensation up ahead.

Vincent made his way around the backside of the building, drawn to a nearby isotope like a compass to a magnet. He reached for the handle of a glass door leading into the motel's laundromat. It didn't open.

He saw Nichole Parker, alone, folding clothes on a table surrounded by dryers on one wall, and washing machines on the other wall. Vincent gave a firm tug on the handle but it didn't open.

He knocked on the glass door.

She looked up and pulled earbuds from her ears. Their eyes met. She approached the door and opened it. "You need a keycard to open the magnetic lock. What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Dr. Falcon has an RFID chip in you. It's designed to withstand a lot of punishment and the natural electricity your body generates is enough to..."

"I get it," she snapped. Her voice softened. "And then when you were near, you followed that radioisotope the succubus used on me."

"Yeah. Nichole, you, uh ... are you okay?"

"I used to want powers. I'm not sure why. But the last one I picked up was in August. One I thought I couldn't retain. Turns out I can't get rid of it, now."

"What do you mean?" He stepped into the laundry room. The door thumped shut. He walked over to a basket of warm laundry and pulled a towel out of the basket and folded it. "You don't seem like yourself."

"I learned if I stay around an un-retainable power for a long time, I gain it. And because I wasn't compatible with it to begin with, I struggle with it."

Vincent continued folding her towels for her. "What ability?"

She sighed, frustrated. "Now Rufus is gone, and I'm stuck with the fur. It keeps coming back and I don't want it."

"You mean my brother's friend? Rufus Darken?"

"Yes. I tracked him to Seattle and pretended to be a werewolf in his presence. I stayed in the fur so long that my body freaked out after Rufus left. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night as a werewolf. When it happens..." she grimaced with a sigh.

"Go on," he said in a gentle voice, immediately empathetic.

She turned away from him. "I have occasional nights where I can't get rid of the fur right away. It takes a while before it goes away."

"Maybe that means you can gain other powers over time, too, Nichole. That's not a bad thing. Why are you upset?"

"Vincent, I slept with him, okay??" Her shoulders slumpt. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Nichole, I won't tell anyone. You said that in confidence. It will stay between us."

She approached the glass door and stared outside. "He didn't know who I was. I lied about my identity, and everything became so messed up. And now I wake up in the middle of the night and I can't even look in the mirror. I see this creature I ... I let him do those things to me. What was I thinking? I didn't love him. I let those things happen just to gain his trust."

"Nichole, I've never seen you like this." Vincent folded another towel and laid it atop the others. "You're not acting like yourself."

"Did you know Rufus did those things with me and it meant nothing? He's with some other bitch now."

Vincent froze. He placed his hands on either side of the laundry basket. "You're acting like someone that caught feelings, only to have her heart broken."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't even into it. I'd just lay there. I let him use me. Now I feel dirty; I can't make the shower water hot enough to wash it all away, and that was months ago."

Vincent frowned. "Imagine this - a girl goes to a rock concert, obsessed with the lead singer of a band. She even gets to meet the band..."

"Rufus isn't a rockstar, Vincent."

"This girl gets to go backstage. She has a few drinks with the band. She quickly realizes that the singer isn't interested. But the bassist flirts with her. A few drinks later, she sleeps with the bass player. The next day, she starts listening to another band on her iPod and tells herself she's only taking a break from her favorite music. A week later, she follows the band to another city, and the same thing happens. After that, she can't listen to their music anymore - at all. She internalizes the whole situation. It gets so bad that she doesn't even like listening to rock music anymore. But everywhere she goes, she hears someone playing music that sounds like that band she used to like."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Now you look in the mirror and see a werewolf. What you became, what you had a relationship with. Can you transform when you're awake?"

"Yes, but I don't want to. But ... yeah. Yes. I can."

He folded another towel and kept his eyes on the basket of warm laundry. "The girl in my example can still quote all the lyrics to the songs she used to listen to, but she doesn't want to. But if she had to, she could. You're that girl. Now you associate that band with the smarmy bassist who only slept with her because he could. So she feels used, and disgusted and disappointed with herself over the whole situation. Look, I get it, Nichole. Maybe you can get passed it by getting it off your chest. I'll be your shoulder."

"It's hard to get over it when I transform in my sleep half the time, Vincent. It's hard to get over it when I can shed the goddamn fur only half the time that it happens. It takes hours, or I have to sleep before I can control it. I would cry myself to sleep, but the funny thing about having the face of a wolf - I can't cry. Sure, I can if I want to sound like a wounded dog, maybe, but there are no tears. The physiology is that damn different."

Vincent frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm being a pathetic idiot. I'm sorry you're listening to my stupid whining."

"Nichole, don't think about the bassist."

"I became a musician because of listening to the band," she said, using his example. "I'm disgusted by the figurative bass player and what I did with him, sure, but then I look in the mirror and realize I'm the bass player in a cover band that plays all songs I can't seem to distance myself from."

Vincent remained silent.

She pounded her first against the doorframe and turned back to face him. "Do you understand? I can't stop turning into the creature I regret sleeping with."

Vincent did another towel. He folded it and put it aside. He picked up all the folded towels and put them into the empty basket. "It meant nothing, so take a deep breath and..."

"It meant nothing the first several times!" She grabbed the basket from him and tucked it beneath her arm. "But the next thing I know, I'm feeling conflicted, and I don't hate it anymore. Fuck! One time I actually _liked_it."

He didn't know what to say. He never saw her hurt before, especially since she could heal her wounds. But now he began to understand that she was a person, just like anyone else. She felt emotional pain just like anyone else.

Nichole continued in an angry voice. "And then guess what happens, Vincent? Rufus and I argue, I throw him through a wall, and then I leave. Suddenly, he's with the girl he'd been looking for all along. Now he's happy. So good for him! He's happy now!" Her voice turned sarcastic and bitter. "Yay, everyone celebrate! He has a happy ending!"

Vincent took the basket from her. "I'll carry it for you. Y'know, Topaz had a friend that used to say 'evil queens are princesses who were never saved.' You were cruel before you met Rufus. Now you're hiding in Seattle doing laundry."

"Evil queens are grown-up women who won't put up with a man's shit."

"You were an evil queen before you met Rufus. You don't seem so evil anymore. You seem more human, now."

"Give me that." She snatched the laundry from him. Nichole narrowed her eyes and backed out through the door with her basket. She walked out into the parking lot, headed around the corner.

Vincent followed. "You used to have feelings for my brother. You guys were so_compatible. Maybe you felt _something_with Rufus. Maybe you were disappointed when you two parted ways. But Rufus was never meant for you. You don't remember my brother, except that he threw lightning and you wanted it. But you two were _so perfect together."

Nichole walked down a wall of seemingly endless doors and windows. She turned to one of the doors and shifted the basket beneath her left arm. She patted her pockets with her right hand, looking for her card.

Vincent came up from behind her and took the basket. "Will you just let me hold that for you? I'm here to help you, Nichole. I'm here to bring you home."

"Aris Falcon can kiss my ass. If he wanted me around, he would have sent you to clear this isotope out of my system months ago, Vincent. He can't put me asleep for some reason. Since I'm unmanageable, he wants me out of the nest."

"He sent me to find you. That's why I'm here."

Nichole found the key card in her left front pants pocket. She looked back at Vincent for a moment.

He stood there, holding the basket, feeling like a moron, like when he was a teenager.

She opened the door to her efficiency and snagged the basket from him. "If Falcon wanted me back, he'd have sent for me months ago. I'm pretty sure I just said that. It's October, Vincent."

"I'm sorry."

"You think I'm just going to wait around for some man forever?"

"Nichole, I didn't mean..."

"Not you. Him. Falcon left me out in the wild, alone, with no money and no assignment. He didn't care. He didn't even try to manipulate me into staying away. Falcon just gave me the could shoulder."

"Nichole..."

She tossed the basket on the counter of her kitchenette and turned to face Vincent. "Thank God for Craigstlist, so I can pay for a roof over my head. It's more help than Falcon gave me."

"I understand."

"Do you? What is it you think you understand that man did?"

"Falcon or Rufus?" he asked. "Falcon disrespected you. Rufus disappointed you. Neither of them even asked if you were okay after letting you down. So they're not worth your time."

Nichole opened her mouth to reply but said nothing. She stared at him for a moment.

Silence.

She turned and walked away. "Close the door. You're letting the heat out." She moved over to a queen bed and dropped onto it. "Thanks for helping with the towels."

"It was no trouble."

"You didn't have to." She ran her fingers up through her hair. "I don't mean to be a whiner. I just ... I don't know how to handle this shit."

Vincent shut the door and sat down on a sofa, diagonally across from her bed. "Nichole, do you remember high school?"

"No. I don't remember anything before waking up with powers in Falcon's lab. Why?"

"That's why you don't know how to handle this stuff. These are the social skills we learn in our late teens."

"Loss of memory wouldn't mean loss of social skills, Vincent."

"What if you never went to high school, Nichole? What if you never learned how to handle this stuff? The more I learn about Falcon's operation, the more I wonder."

Nichole rested her elbows on her knees. Her cheeks met her palms. She peered over the tips of her fingers at Vincent across the way. "Go on."

"I think you're a clone of Nichole Parker. You are probably only twenty-five years old. He somehow made it so that you aged to an adult body before you opened your eyes for the first time. That would explain why you have no social skills."

"How do you know so much about not having any social skills?"

"I was homeschooled growing up. I got a GED. Topaz had no social skills until later on in her life. Conversely, Fox has fantastic social skills. When they were separated as kids, Fox went to a fairly normal school and mingled with fairly normal kids. I'm not saying school is to blame - Fox is just a laid-back kind of guy. But..."

"I get it," she said, voice slightly strained by the way she rested her face on her palms. "I was told I lost my memories because of how long my brain was deprived of oxygen when I was killed. Dr. Falcon brought me back to life."

"With all due respect, Nichole - and I don't mean this to sound like a pissing contest - I was dead longer than you and I remember everything from my childhood."

"Like you would know."

Vincent shrugged. "Fox, uh, can do this thing with computers. We managed to get into Falcon's servers and read the files. I died. I was dead for thirty minutes. You died. You were dead for eighteen minutes."

"What happened to me?" she asked.

"I read that someone found you and put you onto life support, looking to win some favor with Falcon. The machine breathed for you, and kept your heart beating."

"So I was a vegetable until Falcon revived me?"

"I guess." Vincent fiddled idly. He felt bad for her. "I was rushed to the operating table and used as a guinea pig for some ancient technology Falcon wanted to play with. I was an experiment. It was sheer luck I came back to life. I had to learn how to walk and talk again, but I didn't lose my memories."

"I don't know what to believe."

Vincent closed his hands to keep from fidgeting. He thought back to what Topaz told him about doing whatever it took to get Nichole's trust. He swallowed and moved from the sofa over to the bed and sat down besides her.

Nichole cut her gaze over at him. "What? What are you doing?"

Vincent put his arm around her. "Seems like you need a hug. Make fun of me if you want. But we've worked together, Nichole. We saved lives together in Maryland. Remember the power plant?"

"Calvert Cliffs," she said softly, not moving.

Vincent put his other arm around her and rested his chin on her head. "Yeah, Calvert Cliffs. Look, Falcon sent me to search for you. He didn't say I have to drop everything and find you right away. He just said I have to look for you."

"I ... what are you getting at?"

"I'm still looking for you. He wouldn't know if I've found you yet. For all he knows, I'm still trying to track you down."

"Yeah?" A secret smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Good luck trying to find me."

Vincent reminded himself to do whatever it took to gain Nichole's trust. He loved Topaz so very much, but his wife was very explicit with her orders. Vince sighed through his nose. "Yeah. It might be a while."

"Might be," Nichole whispered. She glanced over at the dingy sofa. "That thing over there is a sofa bed, but it's broken."

Vincent glanced back at the sofa. He shrugged, with his arms still around her. "Yeah. That sucks."

"This is a queen mattress but you're married."

Vincent kept his arms around her. "Yeah. I am. I told Topaz and Fox I have to be away for a while. Until I find you."

"Might take a while to find me," she said again. "I might be one of those people that move around a lot, or live out in the woods."

"Yeah, you might be," said Vincent. "I share Topaz with Fox. You knew that right?"

"Yeah, Vincent."

"Topaz is warm right now. She's probably sleeping with her back against Fox's chest right now. His arms are probably around her, and she's smiling in her sleep."

Nichole frowned. "Vincent..."

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"Nothing. I'm sorry you're here instead of there. I hate the whole damn 'lonely' thing. You're a nice guy, you don't deserve to be lonely."

Vincent gently withdrew his arms from her. "It's okay. I'm with a friend. Topaz isn't lonely either. She's ... well, she's never lonely. No matter how far away, she's content with Fox at her side."

"Does that bother you?"

"No," he said quickly. "Maybe sometimes."

"I don't want to keep you from them, I know you love both of them."

Vincent smiled a bit. That was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard Nichole say. "You really are different." He folded his hands in his lap. "I don't mean that in a bad way. You're being considerate."

"Yeah. I guess. Whatever." Her eyes lifted briefly and then lowered again. "I just know it sucks when they're there and you're not."

Again, Vincent reminded himself that Topaz gave him a measure of permission to do whatever it took to gain Nichole's trust. "Are you angry at Falcon? I mean, you could totally kick that guy's ass."

"Yeah. I am. I'm angry. We still have to figure out where you're going to sleep tonight. That sofa only has two cushions; it's not long enough to sleep on it, closed. And its mattress thing is broken - it doesn't open anymore."

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"It's October."

"I'll sleep anywhere you want," he told her.

Nichole frowned. "You're married."

"Nichole, I'm in an open relationship. Topaz used to sleep with Karla from time to time, too. But that's beside the point. There is plenty of floor space."

"I don't have enough blankets. The extra blanket is on the sofa bed. The thing was crammed back into the sofa, with the blanket on the folding mattress. So now I can't get it out for you to use."

"That sucks."

"Vincent, you have to stay on the bed if you want to be under a blanket. This is Seattle. We're close enough to Canada that you shouldn't lay on a floor without a blanket, especially this time of year. You'll wind up sick. The problem is, you're married."

"Topaz gave me carte blanche to try and gain your trust. She actually said that, Nichole. I doubt she'll care if we sleep in the same room, or side by side, or whatever."

"Or whatever," Nichole whispered. "Well, I hope you have something to do to keep yourself entertained. I'd planned to fold those towels, then come back here and take an afternoon nap."

"I've been traveling. I'm exhausted, Nicky," he said, trying to gauge how she would react to a nickname.

"I..." She trailed off and pulled the blankets down away from the two pillows along the headboard. "This is such a bad idea."

"What, an afternoon nap?"

"Yeah. That." She kicked off her shoes and reached for a light on the nightstand. Her eyes zeroed in on a roach moving along the tiled floor of the kitchenette. She looked down, embarrassed.

Vincent saw the roach, too. He slid off the bed, stomped on the bug, and stepped out of his shoes. Vince came around to the other side of the bed and sat down on it. "It's fine."

"Yeah." She switched off the light. "I used to really _be_something. I let that go to my head. And then I learned that using my powers is like doing drugs. I have done my best to stay away from it lately. I don't want to be a junky."

"Maybe it's part of your personality? You need to need something, or find some sort of meaning in your life. Just be glad your addiction isn't religion."

She rubbed her cheeks with a sigh. "Having a candy bar is fine, but suddenly I needed to collect every kind of candy bar from all over the world. I needed to have ten of every kind, so I could eat one of each throughout the day. I would come up with excuses to use my powers and think of ways to obtain new ones. I was obsessed, Vincent."

"I remember that side of you."

She sighed again. "Then I got one I didn't want, and now it won't go away."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Don't be. It's karma. I deserve it. I deserve a lot worse, but turning into a dog, on-and-off, throughout the day, is a good start."

Vincent frowned.

Nichole eased the rest of the way down on the mattress. She rolled onto her side, facing away from Vincent. "Sorry the bed isn't very soft."

"It's fine. I appreciate you letting me stay."

"Did Topaz really tell you to do 'whatever it takes' to get my trust?"

"I'd rather have you on my side. Falcon used us. You know that right?"

"Yeah."

Vincent sighed. "He made us feel important."

"True," she whispered. "I felt important, there. Once upon a time."

"He made us feel like heroes," he told her, sitting there in the dark. "He had us saving lives with my ability at that power plant. So why did he kill so many millions of people with that quake in 2025?"

"There's no proof he caused that," she said softly.

"He did." Vincent pulled the blankets over himself and wiggled to get comfortable. He laid on his side, facing towards Nichole. He put an arm beneath the pillow, propping his head, because it was too thin on its own. "You okay?"

She yawned. "The thing that sucks about having fur at night ... you get used to it. And when you don't have it, you feel cold without it."

Vincent scooted towards her and put his arm gently around her. "You don't have to be uncomfortable. If you want to sleep in the fur, then sleep in the fur. You're the same person with-or-without it. I don't judge." He moved a little closer until his chest was against her back.

Nichole licked her lips and, in a soft tone, said, "Don't need to, now."

Silence. Vincent didn't know what to say. He didn't expect things to go like this with Nichole. He didn't know what to expect but it wasn't ... this.

He didn't expect her to be lonely, or broken, or socially awkward. He didn't expect her to be needy, or melancholy. He didn't expect her to feel rejected, or to be sulking in a roach-infested efficiency just outside of Seattle.

Nichole reached for his hand and guided his arm the rest of the way around herself. She leaned back, against him and sighed.

He couldn't tell if it was a happy sigh or a confused sigh. He didn't want to hurt her the way Falcon had. He didn't want to disappoint her the way Rufus had. One thing was obvious, though - she wasn't the same Nichole that knew his brother, Reno. This woman was completely different.

Silence.

Vincent closed his eyes, breathing against the back of her neck. He felt her heartbeat against the bottom of his wrist. It relaxed.

Her breathing became deeper. She nuzzled back against him.

Did he make her feel safe? Did he relax her? Was he doing this because she wanted it? ...Or because he did? Now he was the one that felt conflicted and confused.

X

X

Friday, October 1, 2049 - noon San Francisco, California Parker Mansion ...

Conner looked around at all the people sitting at the dining room table. His eyes panned over Tamamo, his girlfriend. Adjacent to her sat the highest-ranking vampire in North America, Jarth Myrell. Along the row sat Karla, Reno, Carmen, Sinopa, Trajen and Steven Milford. Raul stood in the back corner of the room.

There was an empty chair at the other end of the table, opposite of Conner.

Eight hunters sat along the other side of the lengthy dining room table, across from the supernaturals.

One of the eight hunters was wearing black pants and a matching shirt with a white bar in his collar. Three of the hunters were over forty. The other four were varying ages, but all eight were respected members amongst their peers.

The priest cleared his throat. "My three brothers and I have finished interviewing everyone. Again, these interviews are basic, preliminary conversations to let everyone know what happened, and judge their reactions. We asked where everyone was before Natalia Kincade was discovered - that was her name, correct?"

Jarth answered. "Yes. And when we wake her, we will know who is responsible. But it won't be easy. Natalia's wounds are grave. Her body has shut down into a state we call 'torpor' or, 'vampiric hibernation.' She will not awaken at this time."

The priest cleared his throat. "Mr. Myrell, allow me to introduce myself. I am Father Jeremiah Richter. And I have the utmost respect for supernatural beings. My great grandfather's twin brother was Michael Richter, a rather famous member of the Esoteric Council. Seventy-five years ago..."

Jarth held his hands up. "We are familiar with your ties to Michael Richter. At least I am. I trust everyone here, sitting at this table. We have a homicide inspector amongst us. Nathan? Tell the rest of us what you've learned so far."

Reno nodded to the group. "Father, uh, Richter. Everyone ... you can call me Nathan Carrington. I worked homicide in San Francisco in 2023 before I manifested. Anyhow, Conner brought me a fingerprinting kit. We have prints, now. My friend, Wilfred - some of you have seen him around here - he's the little old white guy with the wiry hair ... he's taking everyone's prints right now. It won't take long. Everyone touches the scanner. The computer will beep if we get a match."

"What else do we know about her murder attempt?" asked Father Richter.

Reno folded his hands on the table. "Whoever did this, they would have left by now. Let's face it, if you couldn't resist the temptation to kill an old vampire, would you stay around and hang out with her peers? Hell no. And why leave finger prints? So we're hoping that someone may know who did it. People like to brag."

No one spoke.

Reno continued. "We found watery footprints from the mirror, to Natalia's body, then the prints lead out to the courtyard. It dried, but this water dried on the hardwood floor near the rear exit, and the carpet, just outside of the storage room. It left just residue enough for us to follow the prints outside."

Reno looked around. Nobody had a question, nobody raised a hand or spoke out of turn.

"Okay," he said, placing his palms flush on the table surface. "We can't rule out the possibility that Aris Falcon sent an assassin to attack her. A hunter would have finished the job. They would have taken her head, or they would have taken fangs as trophies. At the very least, they wouldn't have left her alive so she could recuperate later."

Silence.

Reno took a deep breath and sighed. "One last thing." He looked down at his hands again. "Something happened when I touched the weapon."

Jarth turned to Reno, brows arched. "Something you haven't already told me?"

"I used to have mental images when I touched things. It went away." Reno leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I haven't had it in a while. But this time, after we got the prints, and I handled the dagger, my fingertips touched part of the weapon without gloves. Unprofessional, I know, but it happened and ... I felt something."

Karla turned to Reno, adjacent to her, and quietly asked, "You saw something, babe?"

Reno replied to the room in his normal voice. "I didn't see_something. Not this time. I _felt_something. I _think I felt the intent of the attacker. And I had an image that has nothing to do with the attack."

"What did you see, Mr. Nathanial?" asked one of the hunters.

"I saw a mushroom cloud over San Francisco. I felt confidence and pride. I felt joy. I felt satisfaction. I felt free."

"Free?" asked Jeremiah Richter. "Free, as in spiritually unburdened?"

"No, uh, free as in ... it's weird to explain."

"Try," said Jarth.

"You can do it," Karla said in a soft tone.

Conner unfolded his hands, listening to the interaction of everyone joined together in his dining room. "Free from prison, Uncle ... uh, Nathan?"

"Yeah," said Reno with a firm nod. "Free from prison, exactly."

The door at the end of the room opened. James Parker stepped into the dining room and shut the door. He sat down in the empty chair at the far end of the table. "Hey, everyone. Sorry to interrupt."

"You have an update?" asked Jarth. The vampiric figurehead folded his hands on the table, gazing down at the end. He offered an enigmatic yet expectant smile to James.

"Yeah," said Jaye. "Rachel and Wilfred are nearly finished taking fingerprints. Everyone is lined up and seems eager to prove their innocence. You can tell this group of people has been in similar investigations. They're quick to cooperate. Most everyone is quiet and polite. There are a handful of people acting pissy but they're still cooperating."

"We should still do what we've come to do," said Father Richter. "We have a job. Many of us have come from as far as Europe. We want to help."

Reno folded his arms. "I honestly do not believe the attacker is amongst us. No one here is a rookie. No one out in those tents strikes me as a rookie. Natalia's attacker is most likely long gone."

Jarth stood up and smoothed his shirt. "I need to make a phone call."

One of the hunters, whose name Conner didn't know, stood up with Jarth. "No offense, but all of us are under a microscope. I have two questions. Who are you calling? And why can't you wake up the vampire who was attacked with an infusion of blood?"

Jarth frowned. "Natalia was given her curse by Niall Kincade. Niall was one of the oldest vampires to be awake in the past two hundred years. Possibly thee oldest in that time. My blood will not be sufficient to awaken her."

Karla eyed Jarth for a moment. "You're taking Natalia's attack pretty serious, Jarth. You're usually a bit more eccentric. How close were the two of you?"

"Not nearly as close the two of you, Mrs. Loupe." Jarth withdrew his cellphone and nodded to the hunter across the table. "I'm calling Cybil Powalski about Nathan Carrington's possible prophecy concerning a mushroom cloud. I am rather concerned by hearing of such a thing."

Karla frowned. "If you need blood older than Natalia's own to wake her, how could Kalen wake her?"

"She is rumored to be six, possibly seven generations removed from a vampire mentioned only in the lore of our kind."

Karla tilted her head. "Not exactly sure ai'm following you, here, Jarthy."

Myrell arched his brows. "You've seen Kalen in action. When Natalia sought to create him, he did not awaken from death. Natalia turned to her husband, Niall Kincade. She begged him to help her. Niall used his blood to give Kalen the curse. It worked and Kalen was revived. Not many know such in regards to Kalen's true heritage. His blood is potent enough to awaken her. It was never about age, but potency."

No one spoke.

Jarth thumbed his phone and headed for the door. "Excuse me."

Father Richter frowned. "Someone powerful enough to deliver such a devastating attack against an ancient, powerful vampire is walking amongst us. Where did the water come from?"

Tamamo glanced at Conner and took his hand. She cleared her throat, and spoke to the priest at the opposite corner of the dining room table. "He or she may have come from the mirror."

"Excuse me?" asked the priest. "A demigod may have attacked her?"

"Hai, Shinpu, it is possible." Tamamo stood up and pushed her chair in, addressing the room. "I have witnessed this man, shisai Richter Jeremiah-san, in combat. He is an impressive warrior and I have the greatest respect for his ability to fight, to lead, and to rally the other hunters. I want all of you to speak to Shinpu Richter with the utmost respect when we crossover."

Jeremiah bowed his head to show respect. "Uhm, arigato Ms. Tamamo-no-Mae. But, with all due respect, what does that have to do with the dried footprints and the water that was found near the lady vampire's body?"

Tamamo began pacing along the row of the dining room table, walking behind her peers. "Everyone, not many deities know the location of the portal connected to that mirror. It leads to a pond in a forest clearing, hidden at the edge of the Celestial Realm's hub prefecture. The water likely came from passing through."

Reno frowned. "Well that explains why Natalia's clothes were soaked. Tamamo, why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"My apologies, Nathan-san. It's a closely guarded secret. But I have considered the fact we will be passing through soon enough."

Jeremiah frowned. "Should we hold our breath when passing into this mirror?"

"Iie, shinpu. We will go through the mirror and appear leaving the pond. But to cross back to Earth, one must become submerged. It was made this way to repel certain gods from passing through to Earth. The good news is that many deities cannot come over. This limits our suspects. However, less than a handful of deities know its location, which should make our list of suspects even smaller."

Conner leaned back in his chair, listening to everyone. He folded his arms. "What if she and the others went through the mirror to get away from the attack on the Kincade Manor? She could have been attacked on the other side and found her way back through. The footprints could belong to Evan, Laura or Kalen, who ran out of the store room to get help."

Tamamo pivoted on her heel, pacing back the other direction. "But why not ask for help from someone they knew? We're all friends in this home, Conner-kun."

"What if Natalia brought back someone else with her?" asked Conner. "Someone who doesn't know the people here?"

Tamamo nodded. "A deity who can pass through the water of the pond ... who carried Kincade Natalia's injured body through to deliver her to us, possibly." Tamamo frowned, having spoken the name out of order for the zenglish language. No one seemed to have noticed.

Tamamao continued. "But once they arrived on Earth, perhaps they left Natalia on the floor, assuming she was dead. But why leave without speaking to anyone?"

Reno looked up at Tamamo, passing behind his chair for the second time. "How does the water thing work? I mean, is it based on repelling someone's personality? What if all our friends were attacked, and this person told Natalia they could bring her back through in return for being told the pond's location? In contrast, could a deity have used Natalia to come through, and then attacked her upon arrival?"

Father Richter folded his hands, on the table, and asked, "What makes you think she was attacked on this side of the portal?"

Reno leaned back in his chair. "Blood spatter on the floor. Wilfred and I agree that the pattern suggests she was stabbed where we found her body. _Exactly_where we found her body. It's like she laid there while they stabbed her."

Conner sighed. "What's our next move? Personally, I think we should stick to the plan and go through with the hunters."

Sinopa chimed in for the first time since the meeting started. "We have to trust one another before we go through. Nathan-san? You honestly believe the attacker is no longer among those present?"

"I think they fled. At best, they came out of the room to explore, then returned to the mirror. By then, their footwear was dry. The prints indicate they wore some sort of boots, but I don't recognize the bottom of the sole. There's no tread."

"Then how do we know they wore boots?" asked Father Richter.

"Weight displacement on two footprints, where they stepped off the back deck, into the dirt path, leading out to the tents. I know a lot of gods probably wear sandals, but this was more like a sneaker, minus tread." Reno looked up at Tamamo. "Do you know any gods who wear sneakers?"

Tamamo shook her head in passing. "Handmade boots would not have tread like modern Earth footwear." She pivoted on her heel and walked back the way she came. "We should finish our investigation so that we have peace. It will not take long. Perhaps another hour?"

"Yeah," Reno agreed. "And I vote we head over soon. If Natalia was brought over injured, the rest of our friends might be in serious trouble. We can't just leave them over there to fend for themselves if there's a chance we could help them."

One of the older hunters at the table asked, "I thought you said she was attacked on this side of the portal?"

Reno shook his head. "She was stabbed repeatedly on this side of the mirror, yes. But whoever did this to her, the spatter proves she was stabbed exactly how we found her body. Slumped on the floor. Why would she just lay there and let someone stab the hell out of her?"

Silence.

Reno folded his hands. "That's why ai believe she was already messed up when she came through. Also, her shoes are modern footwear with treads. There were no footprints for her in that room. Someone carried her through."

Tamamo folded her hands behind her back. "It is time to vote. I am in favor to send a scout team over immediately. Someone powerful."

"Sekhmet?" asked Sinopa.

Tamamo shook her head. "She cannot return through the pond. She came to Earth with the aid of Ra, and he may not be available to aid her a second time."

The door at the end opened. Jarth Myrell stepped in, pocketing his phone. "We have a problem."

Conner frowned. "Now what?"

Jarth cut his gaze to Conner, at the far end of the dining room table. "I respect this is your home, Mr. Parker. But, please, learn some measure of social graces." Jarth held his hands up to keep Conner from replying. "We can debate another time."

"Please, Mr. Myrell," Tamamo said.

Jarth drew in a somber breath and announced, "I spoke to Cybil Powalski. First, I would like to say, to Carmen Nevada, he has agreed to conduct surgery with Steven Milford. Carmen, we will remove..." Jarth cut his gaze to the adjacent hunters. He continued in a respectful tone. "The 'lump' where your neck meets the base of your skull."

Carmen nodded, looking somewhat relieved.

Jarth turned back to the rest of the room. "For those that do not know, Cybil is the last living oracle at this time. He confirmed what I feared - Mr. Carrington mentioned something about a mushroom cloud when he touched the attacker's weapon. Whoever came through knows enough about humanity to seek out a nuclear warhead."

Father Richter frowned. "We should all go through the mirror to ensure no one dies."

Sinopa shook her head. "Someone has to remain in order to take the mirror to a safe place. We've already decided the Parker family will not go through. Carmen needs surgery. Conner, James and his betrothed - they will be leaving California immediately."

Karla sighed. "Whoever did this to Natalia wants to find a nuke? Can we figure out what the hell we're doing and get to it? We might be running out of time."

"Agreed," said Trajen. "I will be leaving immediately. Steven will go with Carmen to find Cybil Powalski. Conner, go with your sister. James Parker, you should take the mirror somewhere safe..."

"It should stay here," said James. "If there is going to be an attack, the bunker under this house is best. You don't want a bomb going off while the mirror is in transit."

Trajen nodded. "Very well, but someone has to stay here and keep it safe." Trajen looked towards the corner of the dining room. "Raul, make yourself available to help if necessary, but stay off the playing field, so to speak. Stay away from alcohol. Sinopa, go with the siblings. Protect your family..."

Sinopa frowned. "I will stay here and protect the mirror. I am immune to fire. I will keep the mirror safe."

"As you wish." Trajen turned to Jarth. "Mr. Myrell, return to your home. If you cannot wake Natalia, then with all due respect, you are unnecessary. I will head to Seattle and find the werewolves. We may need them in the attack against Aris Falcon."

Reno grinned at Trajen. "You like being in control, huh?"

"I have lost hope for San Francisco. I am saying what must be said before my departure."

Reno arched his brows. "Trajen, the mayor just announced a cure on the news, man."

"Mister ... Carrington," Trajen stood up and pushed in his chair. "With all due respect to your knowledge of this city, and with all due respect to your love for it ... the military is taking people to San Diego. They're administering this new cure en route. San Francisco is still under quarantine. And now it's being evacuated."

"Since when?" Conner tilted his head. "This is news to me."

Trajen frowned. "I deal in information. My contacts have said the USS Gerald Ford aircraft carrier is taking residents from Alameda to San Diego. The crew is administering the cure en route. It's a federal matter. The cure has a cure rate of seventy percent. Those that do not show improvement are kept aboard the Ford for further study, and will ultimately be airlifted to a Naval medical center in San Diego."

"Why San Diego?" asked Reno. "What's the deal?"

"Deep harbors, and the US Navy presence in San Diego make it the best place," Trajen said. "Those who do not show immediate improvement are to be filtered through the Naval Medical Center of San Diego."

Reno stood up and stretched. He pushed in his chair. "I thought the University of California San Francisco Medical Center, and the Kaiser Oakland Medical Center were the two best places for the plague in this city? Why take people down south?"

Trajen turned to face Reno directly. "Mr. Carrington, there are four hospitals at capacity because of this plague. The two you mentioned, and two more in Sacramento. San Diego recently finished a state-of-the-art military medical laboratory. The Federal Government is ready to put it to use. Please, no more questions. I'm leaving."

"You afraid?" asked Reno. "You're in a big hurry. Is that self-preservation or are you actually afraid of something?"

"You mentioned a mushroom cloud, Mr. Carrington. Jarth spoke to Cybil Powalski and confirmed it. It would be foolish for anyone who is not crossing through the portal, to leave immediately. I am headed to Seattle to find the werewolves. My sources tell me it was attacked. We need to find the survivors. We'll need another army to fight Aris Falcon."

Tamamo glared at Reno and approached Trajen. "Do not listen to Nathanial. He is chiding you because you have always had such control over his life in the past. You are free to leave without judgment. Stay safe."

"And you, madam kitsune." Trajen walked out of the room.

Father Richter frowned. "Who was that man?"

"Long story," said Conner.

Richter shrugged in reply. "Yesterday he wanted to know how many African Americans were part of this group of hunters. He gathered most of them, last night, and was speaking to them about putting family first, making sure to stay away from vices ... normally I encourage these messages."

"Why not this time?" asked Conner.

"Because," Jeremiah said with a sigh, "That man was asking the African American hunters to go home and take care of their families instead of fighting. Seven hunters left because of that man's speech about family and heritage."

Reno cringed. "Seriously? Seven out of how many?"

Richter shook his head. "It's an acceptable loss. Far less than..."

"How many?" Sinopa asked.

"Seven out of over two hundred fifty African American persons. It was nothing worth bringing to your attention. I was simply ... offended he asked only a select group of hunters to leave, let alone anyone at all. We're all in this together. To be blunt, God needs us to rescue his angels, the way they have been sent to help us in our times of need throughout the ages."

Conner looked away and rolled his eyes so that Jeremiah would not see it. "Trajen can do whatever he wants. We have our army. Let's get this show on the road. Everyone else needs to pack up and prepare to leave."

"Natalia cannot be moved," Sinopa said. "I will stay and take her below the mansion. We will be safe no matter what happens."

"I'm glad we got this out of our systems," Reno said. "Let's get this in motion. When do we leave?"

Tamamo looked around the room. "One hour."

X

X

San Francisco...

Loki looked up at the deserted buildings towering over San Francisco. The tall buildings glistened in the morning sunlight. He stood there, simply looking up at their splendor, amused but not impressed.

"Who are you?" asked someone from behind.

Loki turned around, coming to face a man in a dark uniform with a shiny piece of shaped metal on his chest.

The man asked again, adding, "Are you drunk? You do realize I'm a police officer, right? This section of town is under quarantine. What's your name?"

"Loki Laufeyjarson. Please excuse me, I'm Norwegian. I would gladly move along, officer. And, to answer your question, I've not had any mead since last night at sundown."

"Are you alone?"

"I was separated from my wife, Sigyn. I had to leave her back where I came from."

"I meant is anyone else with you right now? Just waltzing around downtown like you?"

"No, officer."

"Where are you headed?"

"Wherever you tell me to go, Officer." Loki offered a friendly smile.

"There are busses that take people to Alameda. It's south of Oakland. The military base, there, is routing people from that checkpoint."

"Military base?"

"The military is under strict instructions to enforce the quarantine of San Francisco. A few days ago, the local government introduced a cure to the plague. The military is handing out the vaccine directly, on a patient-by-patient basis. They're using the Gerald Ford to move people in large groups down to San Diego. You'll be relocated to a shelter there."

Loki blinked and tilted his head. "Who is this ... Gerald Ford?"

The officer blinked and looked back at Loki with a measure of confusion. "Oh, yeah, right ... you're Norwegian. It's a nuclear aircraft carrier named after one of America's presidents from a long time ago."

"Oh..." Loki smiled again. "I understand. Nuclear aircraft carrier ... most impressive. Where can I find the bus? I will go there immediately."

"I'll walk you there. You can't just go strolling around. Do you have your ID?"

"No, I left it behind by accident. Will I need it?"

"Not really. It doesn't matter who you are, you have to leave the city. Since you speak English, we'll get everything figured out for you. Follow me."

Loki moved into step behind the officer, delighted by his stroke of good fortune. 'Nuclear' ... that was the name of the human technology with the potential for destruction.

"Officer, I don't know much about nuclear aircraft carriers. Are they safe? They don't cause mushroom clouds, do they?"

The officer smirked. "You're thinking of nuclear warheads. Those go on airplanes, or inside of submarines, and we drop them on the enemies of America. Well, we haven't in over a hundred years, but ... a nuclear power plant, shrunk down to fit on those ships ... those are used to make unlimited steam, which turns turbines. Unlimited steam means unlimited power. Those won't blow up."

"Oh, well that's a relief," Loki announced with a smile. "I would hate for one of those nuclear warheads to be so close to me, though."

"You can't detonate those things. They're sophisticated, Mister ... whatever you said your last name was. Nuclear warheads won't go off without a computer code programmed from clear across the country. The code comes in, tells the captain of the ship to initiate a launch sequence, and then they operate the computers locally, so nobody can hack in and use these weapons to attack or explode from a distance. Trust me, that stuff is safe."

"You know a lot about it."

The officer nodded to a bus on the corner. They continued to approach. The officer shrugged. "I was in the Navy for eight years. I know a little. Alright, good luck, pal. You'll be fine."

"Again, I would like to thank you, officer." Loki nodded with a smile and made his way to the corner. He stopped near the bus, looked back towards the officer, spying a glance at downtown San Francisco. He smiled, wondering about the potential for carnage, and boarded the bus to Alameda.

---

Next Chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/803523