THREE HALLOWEEN STORIES

BELLE OF THE MIST
GUILT
VAMPIRES, MUMMIES AND THE HOLY GHOST

ALI VALI

Ebook by
PDAFicton.com

BELLE OF THE MIST

Disclaimers:

Here we go again with these slightly tilted bad history lessons, so if you want to stick to the facts I suggest a Louisiana Civics class. Some of the characters are of my own creation and some I borrowed from the Civics class I took in the ninth grade, but hey he was an outlaw himself so fair is fair. If you decide to sue though know that I am a poor person not worth you time and effort.

Now for the sex part, if you find that a relationship between two women distasteful try eating Halloween candy it does wonders for that. But seriously if you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed move on, literally.

Sit back and enjoy the story and if you have something wonderful to say about it write to me at

terrali20@yahoo.com

I want to thank my betas for correcting this for me. Jaden and Deanie you are both godsends, thanks for making me sound so good.

This one is dedicated to every person that has sent me all those wonderful words of encouragement since the first story I posted. Thanks for taking these journeys with me and for letting me know how much you like them.

BELLE OF THE MIST

THE SMALL BLONDE walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. At the stove, an older woman stirred a pot of shrimp gumbo that had been simmering for hours.

"All squared away sweetie?" asked Mona looking up from her task. The experienced cook tapped the wooden spoon in her hand on the rim of the pot and turned off the low flame under it.

"I guess, but I wish Harry had explained exactly what our costumes are supposed to be. The theme of the LeFleur Halloween party this year is "Legends", but unless Elvis wore some knee high boots in one of his concerts in Vegas, I don't have a clue as to what legend we are going as," answered Desi.

After moving in with her lover, Dr. Harry Basantes three months prior, Desi enjoyed spending her afternoons with Harry's long time housekeeper, Mona. The feisty woman had kept Harry in line for years as well as making sure that the orthopedic surgeon took care of herself.

"This is done cooking for now, so how about you and me go up and see what the big trouble maker brought home with her. What time do you expect Harry to be home?" asked Mona taking the large pot off the hot burner. Mona was glad to see Harry starting to join the world of the living after getting Desi back into her life, and the party the two were going to the next evening was going to be their first official social outing since getting back together.

"They just started a knee replacement about thirty minutes ago, so she should be home around seven," said Desi talking about Harry's surgical team. She looped her arm around Mona's and dragged the cook out of the kitchen. "Come on Mona let's go upstairs, sit outside and have a drink."

The two women made their way up to the large master suite that Harry and Desi shared and stopped in front of the two garment bags that Harry had left there that morning before heading out to the hospital. When Mona unzipped the one that was meant for the tall surgeon to wear, she smiled and knew instantly who Harry and Desi were going to dress as. Having worked for the Basantes family since Harry and her brother were children, Mona had taken great pleasure in telling them about some of New Orleans' more famous citizens and some of their infamous deeds.

*  *  *

The muddy road was littered with water filled ruts that were well disguised in the fog coming off of the Mississippi River. The coachman moved the six horse hitch slowly forward, not wanting to take the chance of either overturning or losing a wheel, either of which would strand he and his passengers in the middle of nowhere for the night. To his left, the small lantern was throwing off enough light to see about fifteen feet in front of him, which was why he didn't see the man sitting on his horse in the middle of the road until the last possible moment. When the driver pulled back forcefully on the reins the coach skidded a little to the left coming precariously close to falling down the embankment.

"Whoa, driver. Don't you know that these are dangerous roads to travel at night? God only knows who you will encounter in your journeys," the deep voice rumbled from in front of him. With the fog and no moon, all William the driver could make out was the knee high black boots that seemed to throw off their own light, they were so well polished and taken care of. When the man rode closer all the driver could concentrate on was the pistol pointed at his head. He looked up when the man spoke to him again and for his own self-preservation he put up his hands. "If I'm not mistaken, you should have the gold deposit for the bank somewhere along with the luggage you are carrying. Be a good boy and go up there and find it for me."

The black mask that covered his face and his polite manner told William that this could only be the robber known as The Land Pirate. Others had mistaken his politeness for weakness and found themselves bleeding from the forehead from the always accurate shots the man discharged from the two pistols he carried. For William it was an easy decision; the bank's money was not worth his life. In the back of the coach the passengers sat motionless hoping that the thief would be content with the gold and leave them alone. From the roof they could hear the driver throwing down bags until he came to the locked chest and threw that over the side as well. The impact with the ground broke the chest open showing the thief the two-tied money bags inside. "If you please, my good man." William jumped down and hefted up the two bags and placed them in the saddlebags on the large black horse's flanks.

Struggling with the bags, William was able to study the thief, wondering what the face behind the mask really looked like? Into the well-oiled boots were tucked tight black pants and there was a black cloak draped over the man's shoulders as well. The hat he wore was black and in the style the riverboat gamblers liked. The only color the thief wore was the white shirt that peeked out every time he moved in the saddle. "What's your name, boy?"

"William, sir," answered the driver as he heaved the bags onto the horse. When he was done the thief motioned for him to get back on the coach. The black horse moved forward and stopped when the rider was even with the back windows. He looked in and studied the passengers he knew were traveling from Napoleonville to New Orleans for the start of the season. Rich planters and their families usually kept a house or an apartment in New Orleans, as well as their large plantations along the river. Leaving the homesteads in the hands of their foremen, the families would go into town for the parties and balls that came after the Christmas holidays.

The stillness was broken when the robber flashed a handsome smile to the young woman seated between her an older couple. Pressing the end of the pistol into the old man's head, the man made another polite request. "Would you mind terribly changing seats with the young woman sir?" The man shook his head as sweat poured down his face. Standing up, he moved to sit next to his wife as his niece moved to the window.

"I seem to have found two treasures tonight," said the deep voice. Pulling off a black leather glove with his teeth, he gently cupped the young woman's cheek in his palm and leaned in for a kiss. The man was so gentle that the young woman almost moaned when his soft lips met hers. The thief broke the kiss and leaned back on his horse. With the ungloved hand he reached into a small pocket in the top of his pants and pulled out a small velvet bag. "Such beauty and generosity should be rewarded, my dear," he said placing the gift in her hand.

"William, you done well tonight, boy. The bank lost its deposit, but you will live to drive another day. Thank you and good night. Stay your course and you will find the next town about five miles away." As he flicked the horse to move away, the gentleman robber flipped William a gold coin before disappearing into the mist. Behind him in the coach, the young woman pulled the string on the small pouch and poured the contents into her palm. If there had been any doubt to the robber's identity, this removed them. There in her hand, were two beautiful emerald earrings. The young woman, whose lips were still tingling, would have traded the jewelry for another kiss and another look into the brilliant blue eyes behind the mask.

Jackson Lafitte stole from the rich but the gifts he left behind were purchased. The law had yet to find any jeweler willing to admit that they furnished the emeralds The Land Pirate gifted to the women he picked out. With each heist the stories and rumors grew as to who this handsome man was. No one had ever seen his face, but his gentle manner and heart stopping kisses were becoming legendary.

*  *  *

"Mona who was Jackson Lafitte?" asked Desi. She ran her hand through her hair, in what Mona had come to recognize as an unconscious habit on the young woman's part. "I've never heard of him." They were sitting outside enjoying the cooling temperatures and the stars from the large veranda off the master suite. Between their two chairs sat an open bottle of wine, and being so caught up in the story, neither heard Harry drive up and come into the house. Both Desi and Mona almost spilled their wine when the deep voice from behind them answered the question.

Harry remembered this story as being one of her favorites Mona had shared with her growing up. Many a night she had been put to sleep dreaming of the adventures of Jackson and what he did with the loot he stole.

"That's because you weren't around when Mona was spinning her tales. Jackson was real and a hero to the slaves in the area back before the Civil War. A modern day Robin Hood if you will, only in the Deep South during the black period that was slavery," answered Harry. Mona smiled at the tall surgeon knowing that she had something to do with the way that Harry perceived people, or didn't perceive them. To her employer and friend, Harry saw a person and what they were about. Nowhere in the equation did the color of their skin play a factor. If Harry liked you or didn't like you it was because of who you were and how you treated people.

Desi jumped up and into the arms she had missed all day. As fascinating as the story Mona had been telling was, the allure of Harry's lips won out. "Where are Kenneth and the fruitcake?" asked Mona when they came up for air.

"The fruitcake was about a block behind me and Kenneth is coming in from Mercy in about thirty minutes. That should give me a chance to run and shower before we eat," said Harry, never breaking eye contact with Desi.

"Good God, girl, I guess if I want you to do anything from now on I'll have to attach one of them sticky notes to Desi's forehead for you to see it," grumbled Mona as she moved back into the room. The miffed tone was only in teasing though since Mona couldn't be happier that Harry had found her one true love and had settled down to a more balanced life. The green eyes that followed the tall brunette around the room were winning the battle of attention for the workaholic surgeon. Harry still worked hard, but now instead of finding more work at the hospital she came home to spend time with Desi.

"If you need us Mona, we'll be in the shower," said Harry as her surgical scrub top hit the old woman in the back of the head. The low cursing was drowned out by Desi's laughter as she followed Harry into the bathroom.

"She's just going to put you over her knee one day and spank you. You are aware of this aren't you?" asked Desi. Harry pulled the sweater the young woman had been wearing over her head and reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Desi returned the favor by pulling the string of the scrub pants watching as they fell to the floor. "I'm already clean you know," Desi commented as she lost more clothes to the agile fingers running along her body. Harry's agile digits were as talented out of the operating room as they were in.

"Honey, you can never be too clean," was Harry's answer. They spent some quality time in the shower just touching and kissing not taking it any further yet, knowing that their guests for dinner would all be there soon. When they were dressed, Harry gave her lover a piggyback ride down the stairs, hearing laughter coming out of the kitchen. "Guess the boys got here ok."

To set the mood for a nice dinner, Harry built a fire in the fireplace in the kitchen and dimmed the lights. Desi and Tony helped Mona set the table while Kenneth opened another bottle of wine. They sat at the table next to the bay windows and toasted Mona on another pot of her legendary gumbo.

"Ok so finish telling me about this Jackson Lafitte character, Mona," said Desi. The dinner was slow and relaxed since it was Friday night and neither Harry nor Kenneth were on call and didn't have to go to work the next day. Both couples were going to the costume party and had been looking forward to it for weeks.

"I'll let Harry take over from where I left off. Now that we have Butch, the good doctor has become a better story teller than I ever was," quipped Mona. Harry threw a piece of French bread at her that the housekeeper batted away and laughed.

"To tell the tale of Jackson, you have to go back to the beginning," started Harry.

*  *  *

"Are you going to the Quadroon Ball this year Jean?" asked Philip. The two had sailed together from the time Jean Lafitte had become the rogue pirate famous throughout the Louisiana territory.

"Of course man. Jewel has spoken of nothing else for three months. She is out getting her final fitting for the gown she's going to wear," answered Jean. The New Orleans social season was littered with balls and large parties, but this one was the one most enjoyed by the gentleman and ignored by their wives.

The Quadroon Ball was the one social occasion for the slave mistresses that almost all gentlemen and plantation owners kept. It was their night to shine and forget the miserable existence that was their lives as someone else's property. Jewel was different than most though. Jean had seen her on the auction block next to the port one day and bought her on a whim. Nursing her back to health, the pirate didn't treat her like a slave but as someone he was courting. She had the run of his large house in New Orleans, and was given an allowance while he was away at sea.

In time the small and delicate woman came to love the pirate, and he in return had fallen in love with her. Jean Lafitte would never marry, but Jewel was as close as he would ever come at this point in his life. Because she was colored, Jewel was not allowed to attend the other balls with him, so the Quadroon Ball was something she looked forward to. It was an exquisite feeling for her to be twirled around the ballroom in the arms of the man she loved. Jean was a pirate, but he was a gentleman with impeccable manners and an easy charm. He was tall with black hair that he kept long enough to pull into a ponytail, blue eyes and tan skin from all his time at sea. Despite his profession, the man was considered a worthy catch to any debutante that could capture his attention.

With a quick check of his pocket watch, Jean paid his bar tab and headed to the dress shop he had dropped Jewel at an hour before. Jean made his way along the wooden sidewalk tipping his hat to the ladies who crossed his path. Through the window of the dress shop he could see Jewel talking to the seamstress about what he assumed were last minute changes.

Both women looked up when the bell over the door chimed admitting the large strong body of a man. "Ready, cheri?" asked Jean. Jewel in his opinion was aptly named. Small in stature, the woman was beautiful. Her light colored eyes and dark soft hair had a way of stirring his passions like no other woman before her, and the man called The Terror of the Gulf lived to see the young woman smile at him.

"Whenever you are my love," answered Jewel in flawless French. The only difference between her and the cultured ladies of society was that the law considered her a slave. The two lovers made their way home where Jewel talked Jean into spending the afternoon napping with her. When they woke up from a long afternoon of love making, Jewel's dress was hanging in the room ready for the ball that night.

The man at the door announced them when they stepped into the room, and more than one man turned an envious eye on Jean. The low cut blue silk ball gown Jewel had on, accentuated her coloring and showed off her figure like a second skin. Toward the back of the room, a set of brown eyes followed the pair as they greeted friends and drank champagne.

"Who is that?" asked Henri Lecompte. He couldn't take his eyes off Jewel and in that instant vowed to have her. Henri was a cruel man who had just taken over the Twelve Oaks Plantation after the death of his father. The over two hundred slaves that worked his property had learned to fear the son more than they had the father. A long bullwhip was always coiled at Henri's hip, and he never spared his shoulder to inflict punishment.

"Forget that one Henri, she is Jean Lafitte's consort, and even though she is his slave he loves her. Beautiful though, isn't she?"

"That she is," answered Henri in an almost thoughtful voice. The man standing next to him noticed the glare of his eyes and the malicious smile curling his lips. "For an animal," he added after the man walked away.

Jean and Jewel danced and enjoyed each other's company for the rest of the evening unaware of Henri's constant vigil on them. It would be one of the last pleasant nights that Jewel would enjoy, in what would turn out to be a painfully short life.

Seeing Jewel standing on the dock waving him goodbye would be the last time Jean Lafitte saw the woman he loved. Had he known she carried his child it might have persuaded him into not sailing that day, and had he done so, Jean would have changed three fates that day.

Two weeks after Jean set out, four men broke into his home and kidnapped Jewel. The young woman was never seen again and no one had any idea whatever happened to her.

*  *  *

"Well, what happened to her?" asked an impatient Desi. The group of friends had moved into the sunroom and another fire after they had finished dinner. Even Kenneth and Tony who had heard the story countless times before sat mesmerized by Harry's low voice.

"I can see if we ever have children that you will teach them to turn to the last page of all their story books. Jewel was never seen again and until he died Jean looked for her. It was rumored that after her disappearance his face always had a look of longing and sadness. Now if you kiss me, I'll tell you the rest," said Harry. The blonde that was practically sitting on her lap softly pressed her lips to Harry's as encouragement to finish. Harry held her tight glad to know that despite all her own difficulties in their separation, the innocent child that Desi had been was still buried in there. The person Desi had been came back stronger every day that she spent in Harry's heart, and the love that had started years before grew stronger as well. The other three in the room could see that they completed each other and despite the pain, they knew the two were better and happier together than apart.

"How was that?" asked Desi when they broke apart. She moved the rest of the way into Harry's lap putting her head down on a strong shoulder. The fact that she could feel the burl of Harry's deep voice as well as hear it made Desi smile in anticipation of the rest of the story.

"Fabulous. Where was I?" joked Harry.

*  *  *

Jewel woke up in a small shack that held a stale smell. The windows had been boarded up and the only light was the sunlight that filtered in between the boards. She still had her nightgown on and her head hurt where the men had hit her with some hard object. It took her only a second to realize that she was not alone in the room when she heard the breathing coming from the corner of the room.

"How do you like your new home precious?"

"Please sir, I am the property of Jean Lafitte," said Jewel. The room was too dark for her to make out who the man was and his voice didn't sound familiar to her. From his vantage point her captor could make out her face through the dust floating in the air.

"Not anymore my dear Jewel. You will live out your life here in this room servicing me. I have been sitting here thinking about all the wonderful fun we are going to have together," he continued. Taking one more gulp of whiskey Henri Lecompte unbuckled his pants and prepared to enjoy the fruits of his stolen goods. He ignored her crying and pleading beneath him as he savagely raped her.

The only thought that played out in Jewel's head when he was done was for the welfare of her unborn child. For the next seven months this last connection with Jean was the only thing that kept her sane. Jewel's body was littered with whip marks and burns from Henri's cigars, but still the life within her moved in her belly. When she was alone she smiled, thinking that Jean's child held the same fierce spirit as the man who had sired him.

On a cold night in October, Jewel gave birth to Jackson Lafitte with the help of the slave midwife that worked for Henri. The woman never spoke to her except to tell her to push, and her swollen left eye told Jewel that no slave on this hell she had been brought to was safe from the master's vindictiveness.

"The little bastard even looks like him," commented Henri as he watched Jewel breastfeed her child. Jackson was born with Jean's tan looking skin, black hair and bright blue eyes. The child he would never know about or meet.

"I will do anything you want if you leave my child alone," pleaded Jewel.

"Precious, you will do anything I want anyway. You have no bargaining power with me. I own you, don't you realize that by now?" asked Henri. Holding the baby up to the lamplight he considered just smashing his head into the ground ridding himself of one more mouth to feed, but he could tell the long boned child would grow to be a fine worker for him.

Before her death, Jewel had whispered her wishes to the midwife as if having a premonition of what was to come. Jackson's adoptive mother, kept her promises to the woman who lived out her last days in the dark shack, telling the child of the parents who loved him. A month later, Henri killed Jewel in a drunken fit of rage and Jackson was sent to the slave quarters for the midwife to raise. Henri called him "Dog" and forbade the slaves to give the child a name. The midwife told him when he was old enough what name his mother wanted him to have and that is the name he adopted.

By age ten the strong back was littered with permanent whip marks from Henri's favorite toy as punishment for Jewel's weakness. At age eleven Jackson ran for the first time, only to be caught by the dogs two miles away in the woods. On the third attempt at escape, Henri branded a large R into Jackson's back to mark the slave as a runner. Two years later, Jean and Jewel's child ran into the night and was never seen again.

With white skin and blue eyes Jackson had no problem living the life of a southern gentleman. Watching the men that visited the whorehouse that had provided a job, Jackson learned what clothes were right and what language was acceptable. Only a few of the slaves on Henri's plantation knew of his parentage, so it was the blood of Jean that made Jackson a masterful thief. One that was as rich as he was elusive to catch.

He arrived in New Orleans three hours after relieving the coach of its gold shipment. The people that were up with the sun watched him pass making comments on how much the young man looked like the rogue Jean. Everyone thought it, but no one ever told him to his face the rumors of who his father might be. Jackson had chosen the name Lafitte not only in memory of Jewel, but also to hide in plain sight.

After a bath and a long sleep he was planning on attending the Batiste party that would kick off the season. Jackson always attended alone, and there were no women within the social circles that could brag that they had ever bedded the sometimes aloof Jackson Lafitte. The man obviously had money, but no one ever questioned its origins, and he had charm, which was apparent by how many women he attracted to his side at any social event.

Jackson walked in to the party alone, looking handsome in his dark suit and boots and ignored the looks his way from both men and women. Leaning on the bar, the thief surveyed the room as he sipped his first drink, stopping when he looked upon the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He caught glimpses of her smile from behind her fan as she talked with another young woman. Her blonde hair was pulled up into curls on the top of her head as was the fashion of the day, and her dress was such a dark burgundy that it looked black as she moved. As if feeling someone staring at her, the woman looked in his direction and Jackson was lost in two eyes as green as the emeralds he gave away to women as a reward for a kiss.

Like the conversation that had taken place years before Michael, the bartender said, "Forget that one Jackson." The old slave behind the bar had worked for the Batiste family since he had been a boy, and like most of the slaves around the New Orleans territory knew of Jackson's exploits. The Land Pirate lived well, but some of his ill-gotten gains were given back in the form of medicine and food to the area slaves on the sly. Folks would get up for a long day of labor and find staples no owner would provide, and they knew that Jackson was alive to ride another day. Any slave that would try to sell him out to the white law would find punishment at the hands of their own. The ultimate joke was the way the city people threw themselves at the ex-slave's feet, trying to gain his good favor. They would kill him if they ever saw the brand on his back along with the whip marks that never quite faded no matter how many years past.

"Why Michael, she's pretty enough?" asked Jackson. He smiled back at the woman and dipped his head in respect to the lady.

"She's taken, boy. Last month she was wed to Henri Lecompte," answered Michael pouring the man another dark rum. The bartender saw the dark look that passed over Jackson's face at hearing Lecompte's name. Before he had a chance to say another thing, Michael watched Jackson walk across the room toward the young woman as a waltz began to play.

"Madame, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" asked Jackson. He bowed at the waist as was expected and held his hand out as an invitation.

"May I ask your name, sir?" asked the soft voice in front of him. Her fan was low enough for Jackson to see the beautiful eyes that had drawn him across the room.

"Jackson Lafitte, at your service Madame….?"

"Lecompte. My name is Bella Lecompte."

"And beautiful you are Madame Lecompte," said Jackson taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. He smiled at the blush making its way up her neck, distracting her enough to lead her to the dance floor.

The other partygoers murmured how much better the girl looked in Jackson's arms than those of her new husband's. Instead of the envy Henri thought his marriage would bring, it had only made him a laughing stock for picking someone so young. Having no dowry, Bella had no choice but to marry him when her father struck the deal. The one saving factor of the whole ordeal was the fact that while Henri liked to stare at her, after a month he hadn't touched her in any intimate way.

"Are you having a good time Madame?" asked Jackson with a smile.

"Please call me Bell, Mr. Lafitte, and yes I'm having a wonderful time. Do you know the Batiste family?" asked Bell.

"Yes, I sometimes hunt with Stefan at their plantation. Are you here for the season Bell? And please feel free to call me Jackson." Bell followed Jackson's' lead so flawlessly that they looked like they had danced together for years.

"Yes my husband and I have a set of rooms at the hotel on the square. This has all been so exciting for me since this is my first time to the city. My family never ventured off the homestead very often. Do you live here in town?" asked Bell. Neither one of them noticed that the song had ended and another had begun.

"I have a house here close to the river. If you will permit me, I would love to show you and your husband some of the sights and treat you to lunch during your stay," offered Jackson.

"I would love to," started Bell before seeing Henri at Jackson's back. His brown eyes seemed almost black with hate and the rest of her response died in her throat. Jackson stopped dancing at her expression and turned around to see what had upset her so much. Behind him stood the man that had killed his mother and made the first years of his life miserable, but Jackson held in his contempt and held out his hand.

Henri looked at him as if trying to place where he knew the man from. There was something so familiar about Jackson, but the connection eluded him for the moment. "Mr. Lecompte, I presume," said Jackson.

"Yes and you are?"

"Jackson Lafitte, sir. I would like to thank you for the privilege of dancing with your lovely wife. As a repayment I hope that you will except my invitation to lunch tomorrow," offered Jackson. There was no reason not to accept so Henri did so and after reclaimed his wife for the rest of the song. Bell watched the man leave as Henri twirled her around the room, hoping that Mr. Lafitte would fulfill his promise of lunch so that she could talk with him again.

"I saw him tonight for the first time since leaving," said Jackson. The woman taking off his shirt was the only servant allowed in his private suite of rooms. Monique spent her nights with Jackson, but they had never been lovers. They just both enjoyed the company of sharing the bed with someone else. She was the only one Jackson trusted to keep all his secrets, which was why Monique was the only one that had a key that unlocked the doors where Jackson was free to be himself.

"My love, that must have been horrible for you," said Monique. She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his trousers.

"No cheri, I was actually calm. Henri Lecompte has no more power over me. He is married now, has been for a month. I was dancing with his wife when he walked up so I invited them both to lunch tomorrow," said Jackson as Monique unbuttoned the pants he was wearing. Sitting him on the bed, Monique pulled off Jackson's boots then stood him up to remove the pants. When he was as naked as she was, Monique admired the body of Jackson Lafitte and the hidden treasures that were covered by the fine clothes.

Monique was one of the only people still living that knew Jackson Lafitte was actually the daughter born to Jean and Jewel. The tall woman had inherited her father's build as well as his facial characteristics. The deep voice had made it easier to pass herself off as the gentleman that everyone had come to know, and after her escape from Henri she had become an accomplished fighter as well as marksman. Of the house servants in her employ, the one that shared Jackson's bed was the only one that knew the complete truth, not only of her gender, but where the money they lived off came from. Till the day she died Monique would keep Jackson's secrets as payment for saving her from the auction block.

"You are taking them to lunch?" asked Monique. She kissed Jackson's chest and led her to the bed. Monique straddled Jackson's lower back and began a deep massage waiting for the woman to finish her story.

"Yes I am. I am interested in getting to know this woman that Henri has married. I am convinced that she is too young for him, so she was either forced or is brainless. Something about her intrigues me," said Jackson. The muscles in her back relaxed under Monique's knowing touch. They went through the same ritual every night when Jackson was home. The woman would massage her back then finish with a kiss to the angry brand on Jackson's back.

"Aren't you afraid that Henri will recognize you, Jackson?" asked Monique. She was not anxious to return to the life of a normal slave if anything should happen to Jackson.

"He looked at me hard tonight as if trying to remember me, but I don't think he will figure me out for the runaway slave from twelve years ago. My eyes are still blue, but I have grown into this body now so I'm not concerned cheri. I'm not that child he was free to whip whenever it struck his fancy to do so. Come, let's get some sleep, I have a full day tomorrow."

Monique draped herself along Jackson's left side pillowing her head on the broad shoulder. Dawn wasn't too far away and across town Bell's last conscious thought was of Jackson and if he would call on them in the early afternoon. The man had the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen and the thought of spending more time with him was definitely appealing.

*  *  *

"Jackson was a woman!" exclaimed Desi, pulling her head off the shoulder she had it lying on. They had all been listening to Harry's story for over an hour and no one looked like they wanted to move until they had heard the end.

Mona came in with hot chocolate for everyone and laughed at Desi's constant interruptions. The older woman couldn't wait to see Harry as a parent telling these stories before the small Basantes children went to bed. Mona was certain the tall doctor and her small companion would be naturals at the task of raising children. When that time came, she was going to take a more supervisory position leaving the running after small bodies to the younger set.

"Yes Jackson was a woman. She was a strong woman that was ahead of her time, and who became a living legend to the African American people who were living as slaves in the area during that time. From her came the medicine and supplies that saved a lot of them from beatings at the hands of their masters. She also left food for the children who weren't given as much because they weren't old enough to work yet. I think your partner did well in picking y'alls costumes," said Mona.

"I'll say, I never even heard of this woman and yet she did so much," added Desi. Knowing that Desi wasn't going to move, Mona handed her a large mug so that she and Harry could share. "Come on honey, let's get on with it."

*  *  *

Jackson hired a carriage for her trip to the Riverside Hotel where Henri and Bell were staying. Monique sent one of the young boys ahead to the restaurant to secure Jackson's reservation if indeed the Lecomptes were going to join her for lunch. She saw Henri in a deep discussion with a man that Jackson recognized as an exporter figuring they were discussing prices for Henri's crops.

"Good afternoon gentleman, I hope I'm not disturbing you," said Jackson. She took note of the half-empty whiskey bottle on the table and the contracts sitting next to it. The buyer's glass still held what she guessed was his first drink and by looking at Henri's eyes knew were the missing half had gone. Jackson smiled back at the buyer when he figured out she knew his best bargaining tool when it came to doing business with Henri Lecompte.

"Actually, Mr. Lafitte, we will be a few more hours. I apologize for not sending a message along to you to tell you that we couldn't make it. I use this time in the city to take care of business as well as indulge in a little fun," said Henri with a slight slur in his voice. He looked over the young man again trying to figure out why he looked so familiar to him but the whiskey was starting to take effect. It was the only explanation for his next offer. "Why don't you take Bella with you instead? You look like a gentleman that I can trust with my wife, Mr. Lafitte. I'm sure she's tired of looking at the walls of our rooms by now."

"She will be perfectly safe with me, Mr. Lecompte. You have my word as a gentleman. I thought she might enjoy seeing the new church before we have lunch," offered Jackson. It took restraint not to rub her hands together in anticipation of spending the afternoon alone with Bell.

"I'm sure she will, now, if you will excuse us," said Henri ready to get back to his talk with Jasper. As a token of thanks Jackson poured the next round for them before heading to the front desk to collect Bell. The two men engrossed in cotton prices never noticed Jackson and Bell leaving.

Stepping outside, Bell was glad to take Jackson's arm as he led her to the carriage he had waiting. "What a beautiful afternoon Mr. Lafitte," said Bell.

"Please Bell, if we are going to spend the day together call me Jackson." She settled Bell in the back of the carriage and tapped the driver to go. Jackson sat a respectable distance away from her not wanting any talk about the young woman with her.

"Thank you Jackson." Bell opened her parasol and admired the buildings of the French section of the city as the carriage started forward.

"I thought you might like to see some of the sights before we head to Antoine's for lunch," said Jackson. She turned a little in the seat to face Bell loving the smiles that came across the woman's small mouth. They stopped at the church as Jackson had told Henri, but they had covered most of the city by the time they sat down to have lunch. A few conversations stopped when Bell entered on the arm of the most sought after bachelor in New Orleans. The owner of the restaurant sat them personally fawning over one of his best customers.

"Is there something on my face Jackson?" asked a confused Bell. The naive woman was noticing the side-glances and open stares toward their table.

"No Bell you look fine. If you don't find me too forward, I'll tell you what they are looking at," said Jackson with a smile.

"Jackson, you've been nothing if not well behaved all day, I would never think you forward," said Bell. In the back of her mind she wondered how she would react if the man did step out of line.

"The men sitting around us are jealous that I am here with the most beautiful woman in the city, and the women are wondering what your secret is to get the standoffish Jackson out to lunch. I think this is the first time I have come here in the company of a lady," said Jackson. The blush that was coloring Bell's cheeks was sure to start a rumor all on its own. The waiter arriving with wine saved the young woman from having to respond to Jackson's comments.

Jackson enjoyed Bell's company on a few more afternoons before she and Henri left to go home. The more time they did spend together, the more that Bell dreaded going back to the life of being Mrs. Henri Lecompte. Jackson talked to her like a person worthy of an opinion, and they shared a lot of common interests. How different would her life be if Jackson had asked her father for her hand instead of Henri she wondered?

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she said softly. Bell was sitting in the empty church as an excuse to see Jackson one more time. Her friend was sitting one pew behind her and she heard him exhale.

"I know cheri, and I will miss you," answered Jackson. The French endearment tumbled from his lips before he could pull it back and because of her position, Jackson missed the smile that lit up Bell's face. "I would write you but I'm sure that your husband will not appreciate me doing so, so I will have to wait until next year to see you again."

"I too will miss you, Jackson. Will you promise to think of me often?" asked Bell. She had no right to ask that of him, but she was beyond reason now. The thought of waiting a year to see him was killing her, and what if he found someone in that time?

The touch on her shoulder was so light and quick that Bell barely registered it, but she knew he could do nothing more and not compromise her reputation. For months she would remember the soft voice in her ear telling her, "I will find it hard to think of nothing else cheri. Be well and I promise we will see each other again."

Later that afternoon Bell and Henri boarded the coach that would take them back to Twelve Oaks Plantation. Having spent his morning in the hotel bar, Henri slept for most of the trip out of the city stirring only so often. They would spend two days traveling back to their home and Bell hoped that her husband would stay drunk. On the second night the young woman looked out of the window to the water of the river glittering in the moonlight, enjoying it while it lasted before the fog set in. A couple of hours later Henri had barely spoken to her and Bell was lost in thought when the coach came to an abrupt stop.

"Why in the hell did you stop driver?" screamed Henri from the back. The lurching of the coach pulled him out of his sleep and almost onto the floor.

"Please sir, be still. There is a man blocking the road ahead of us," replied the driver before turning his attention back to the still figure ahead of them. Dressed in black and draped in fog, the man on the black horse almost looked like a ghost, but his pistol looked very real. "Sir, we carry no valuables so please let us get on our way."

"I shall judge what is valuable or not driver, but not to worry I won't hurt anyone unless provoked." Nudging the horse closer brought both pistols into view for the driver and the nervous man stared down the barrels. "Please jump down and start walking back down the road and take the gentleman with you. If you return before the hour I shall have to reload my weapons before the night is done. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," answered the driver. The man was on the ground before he finished his statement and had opened the door of the carriage.

"I will not leave my wife behind you bastard," said Henri as he leaned his body out of the coach.

"Sir, I give you my word that she will not be harmed or touched in any way. You can chose to believe me and return to her alive in an hour, or I could just shoot you now and still keep my promise."

Jackson kept her position until he couldn't see or hear Henri and the driver on the road. Years of experience at the job she had picked told her that they were still walking and out of hearing range. The fact that Henri had acquiesced so quickly told her that he was indeed a coward and a bully.

The courageous one in the Lecompte family looked at her from her seat in the coach as if steeling herself for the worst. It had only been two days but Jackson had missed Bell more than she could have guessed, and it was the only reason for this stunt tonight. Once the two had reached Henri's plantation Jackson would have missed her opportunity.

"I came only to steal a kiss from the beautiful lady," she said softly. Jackson kept one pistol in her hand just in case but removed the glove from the other.

"Then you will be on your way?" asked Bell. Her nerves and fear made her not recognize the voice.

"Then I will be on my way cheri," answered Jackson. It was the endearment that brought her head out of the coach for a closer look at their robber. There under the mask were the blue eyes she had come to love and below it the smile that made her wish she weren't married to someone else.

"Jackson, I knew you would come," Bell said in a whisper. Bell touched Jackson's jaw with her fingertips and gave him a beseeching look. Without her having to ask, Jackson removed her mask for the first time while in disguise. Jackson leaned in and claimed the lips she had been dreaming about for weeks, wanting nothing more than to touch Bell all over, but settling for the stolen kiss. It was for Bella her first real kiss, and it was everything she had read in her romance novellas. Jackson stirred feeling in her with one kiss that no one before her ever had and she prayed it would never end.

"I love you cheri and I couldn't go another day without telling you," said Jackson. She leaned in for another kiss and Bell opened her mouth willingly in acceptance. The young woman was about to cry because of the pure pleasure of it all and because of Jackson's confession.

"I love you too, so much that it scares me Jackson. How am I supposed to wait a year without seeing you now?" asked Bell. If God granted her a wish it would be for Jackson to pull her on the horse and ride away.

"I'll think of something Bell, until then be well and know that I love you." Jackson kissed her again and disappeared into the mist like she had never been there at all. From further down the road Jackson waited until the two men she had sent away returned not wanting to leave Bell unprotected in the road.

"Did that bastard touch you?" demanded Henri when he did return.

"No Henri, he didn't. He was a man of his word despite his actions. If you don't mind I would like to go on now," said Bell looking away from her husband. Each day without Jackson would be like a slow death for her.

*  *  *

"She kissed Bell and then just rode away?" asked Desi. It had started to rain as Harry was telling her the story causing Desi to burrow further into Harry's lap. The cold weather was something unusual for the New Orleans area so early in the year, and Desi was glad the house Harry had bought had so many fireplaces in it.

"Yes baby, she kissed her and rode away. With more planning, Jackson would have been better off paying Henri's cruelty for her parents by kidnapping Bell, but she had more honor than that. If she had to spend her life loving Bell from a distance I think she would have done it, but circumstances didn't work out for them like that.

"What happened honey?" asked Desi.

"If you are asking me all these questions I can't tell you baby," said Harry. She laughed at the sheepish look on Desi's face before taking up where she had left off.

*  *  *

Two months went by at Twelve Oaks and Bell tried to fill her days with any activity that would keep her mind off Jackson. She would eavesdrop on her husband's conversations with some of their neighbors when they talked about The Land Pirate that was seen in the area. They were convinced it was the same man that had been robbing the coaches for years even though there were no more gifts or kisses for the pretty ladies riding.

Henri predicted that it would only be a matter of time before the son of a bitch was brought to justice at the end of a noose. His statement was overheard not only by Bell, but also by the old slave woman pouring her a glass of lemonade. Sally had been the midwife that had brought Jackson into the world years before and had prayed for her safety ever since. The rumors of Jackson's good deeds had traveled even to Twelve Oaks among her people and the old slave knew her runner was still alive. What puzzled her was the terror on Miss Bell's face when her husband threatened Jackson's life.

"Are you all right Miss? Do you need me to get the master for you?" asked Sally. Bell shook her head and got up to go inside. Sally followed her up the stairs to the room Bell occupied in the house. Master Henri stayed down the hall and was still taking his pleasure out in the shacks at the back of the property.

"Miss Bell you look like you seen the dead or something," said Sally. She walked to the window to make sure Master Henri was still talking to the man that had ridden up that afternoon.

"I'm sorry Sally, that talk downstairs just frightened me," said Bell. She too looked down on the two men deep in conversation as a feeling of dread made her shiver.

"You don't have to worry none about that pirate Miss. In a way he's doing what you refer to as God's work," said Sally trying to calm the girl down. For the first time since they stepped inside the room Bell turned her full attention on Sally. Could the woman know Jackson's secret?

"What do you mean Sally?"

"Nothing Miss, please forgive me for talking out of turn. I meant no harm, just an old woman's foolishness."

"Please Sally, you can trust me, I mean him no harm either." Bell moved closer to the old woman as encouragement for her to go on.

Sally thought about that statement before saying anything else. Bell was nice enough to them, but was it a ploy to gain their confidence for Henri to punish later? In the past two weeks Jackson had made it as far as the Twelve Oaks as the news of the parcels left in the night spread through the slave quarters. Getting up for water one night, Sally even swore she saw a cloaked figure coming out of the shack Jewel had been kept in during her captivity on the plantation. Henri had kept it boarded up and empty since the woman's death, becoming even more maniacal after Jewel's demise.

"Him, Miss Bell?" asked Sally. The midwife looked at the young woman's face trying to read her motivation behind the search for answers.

"The Land Pirate, Henri and that man were talking about," said Bell. Taking a breath before deciding on taking a leap of faith, she prayed she wasn't wrong about the old woman standing in her room.

"Do you know Jackson, Sally?" asked Bell, as she clenched her hands into fists waiting for an answer.

"You know my runner?" Sally asked in return.

"I don't know what you mean, but I'll tell you something I've never told a soul, I love him. If you break my confidence Sally, I hope you know Henri will kill us both," said Bell. Her hands now twisted in her dress as she waited for the slave to say something, anything.

"I love Jackson too Miss Bell, and don't you worry none child. That's one rascal they will never catch with his hand in the honeycomb." With that said Sally left Bell to her thoughts as she contemplated this new development, and how the lady of the house had come to fall in love with Jackson.

A week later Sally got her answer in the middle of the night when a horse appeared at her window with the rider slumped on its back. Jackson fell from the saddle before her adoptive mother could get outside. She worked all night trying to get the bleeding in Jackson's side and thigh to stop. The gentleman pirate had finally been standing on the wrong end of two bullets that had left her weak and feverish before the morning. Sally laid her on the same bed Henri had used to rape her mother and prayed to all the gods listening that young woman didn't moan through the day calling attention to herself. It was the only hiding place Sally could think of since no one had entered it in years.

"Miss Bell, it's such a nice day out, why don't you go for a walk? If you like I'll come with you and hold your parasol," offered Sally. Bell and Henri were sitting down to breakfast and as was the norm neither of them spoke throughout the meal.

"She's right Bella you should get out more. You're getting paler by the day. Keep Sally with you and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. I'm riding to Hugh's place for the day to see if there is any news on the capture of the bastard that stopped us that night." Bell only nodded her head absently not really caring about much.

"Miss Bell, would you like to see my house?" asked Sally as they started their walk. The quarters would be deserted except for a few women and children who weren't expected in the fields by Henri's foremen. Those Sally had given an assignment to before heading toward the house. They were off roaming the woods looking for berries leaving the compound of little houses empty.

"You asked me to trust you Miss Bell. Now I'm asking you the same thing. I have to show you something that could be my death, but I'm thinking you want to see it." Bell looked at her and nodded her eyes filling up with tears when she saw the scared look on Sally's face.

In the dim light, Bell made out the big body lying on the bed. The white shirt the man wore was covered in blood and his breathing looked shallow even from where Bell stood. With lighting speed Bell was at Jackson's side, a sob escaping her throat when she saw his pants were wet with blood too.

"You have to help me Miss Bell, if not, Jackson gonna die. Before we start though, there something about Jackson you gotta know," said Sally.

"It doesn't matter Sally, help him," said Bell through her tears. Sally nodded and started unbuttoning the shirt knowing that the binding would show giving away Jackson's secret. Her only hope was that Bell didn't run back to the house screaming when she figured it out. All Bell did do once all the clothes did come off was cry harder, and Sally wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Please Sally, save her. This doesn't change the way I feel. It may be a sin, but I want Jackson well enough to kiss me again like she did all those nights ago." Together they cleaned the two wounds and tried to get Jackson comfortable. The sun had been down for a while before Sally convinced Bell to go back to the house. She promised to come and get her if there was a change in Jackson's condition during the night, and the slave didn't want anyone to tell Henri the next day that Bell hadn't stayed in her room.

When the sun came up, it found Bell walking the property again carrying a small basket of supplies from the house. Jackson was still feverish, but her breathing seemed to be less difficult. The blue eyes fluttered open when Jackson felt the small hand on her face and the equally soft voice in her ear.

"I love you too cheri, and oh how I have missed you." Bell brought one hand up to her mouth to stifle the sob that wanted to escape at hearing Jackson's voice again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," said Jackson wanting to explain now.

"It doesn't change my heart love," said Bell. Sally turned away as the mistress of Twelve Oaks kissed Jackson hello. Would the kind lady still feel so full of love when she learned the rest of Jackson's secrets was the real question? Sally hoped that Bella was as genuine as she seemed for Jackson's sake, for the sake of them all.

Sally and Bell worked for the rest of the morning to make sure that Jackson was comfortable and that her wounds were clean and bandaged. Bell left to head back to the main house long before Henri was due to return from his overnight trip. When the master rode up the long oak lined road to his house, he found his wife sitting on the large porch reading a book.

Henri didn't love Bella, and had only married her because it was what was expected of him. His tastes for more intimate matters ran a spicier gambit than he was willing to try with the young blonde. Eventually they would have to consummate the relationship so that Bella could provide him an heir, but that could wait another couple of years as far as Henri was concerned. He had watched her grow more reclusive once they had returned from New Orleans, but Bella and her problems weren't important enough to give much thought to.

"Welcome home Henri," said Bella looking up from her book but not making eye contact with him. One of the stable boys ran up and took the reins of his horse when Henri dismounted, running off before the bullwhip came off his belt for any reason. Henri took the seat next to her but didn't touch her, which made Bell sigh in relief. Knowing Jackson was so close to her made an advance from Henri that much more repulsive.

"I'm sure I was missed," said Henri with a small laugh. He looked at his wife again and wondered how pleased she'd be if he rode off never to return. "Good news my dear, the posse that was chasing the thief thinks they may have wounded him, badly from my understanding. It will only be a matter of time now. I promised along with all the other landowners that anyone found aiding him will be killed on sight. Just think Bella, you won't have to fear our trips into the city if we are successful."

"I have no fear of our trips into the city now, Henri," was Bell's only reply. It amazed her that she didn't feel more afraid of her husband's reaction if he were to discover her involvement in trying to get Jackson on her feet again.

"Really my dear, such romantic notions from one so young. It makes me wonder what the rogue did to you while the driver and I were out for our stroll in the moonlight?"

"No notions, Henri. The man was simply true to his word."

Another week went by with Henri returning to work and Jackson recovering from her wounds. Sally reported Jackson's progress to Bell every morning after Henri left to oversee the slaves in the fields. Bell thought she would go mad without seeing the tall pirate when a perfect excuse to do so came in the form of another rider. The man reported to Henri that the robber was seen in the area again and the posse was reforming to kill him once and for all. Playing the role of the dutiful wife, Bell listened from behind Henri wondering who this new rider was since Jackson was still on the cot on their property.

"A group of young bucks saw the bastard not two days ago Henri. Said there was a small cut on his arm and he was riding a new horse, but it was him for sure. A group of us are going to ride out for about a week to try and track him and wanted you to join us."

"Give me an hour and I'll be ready to ride out," Henri told him, already heading into the house. The man tipped his hat to Bell and took the seat she pointed out on the porch. Her next trip was into the kitchen to see Sally.

"Wasn't it helpful of those boys from the Destrehan Plantation to help the law like that Miss Bell?" asked Sally when she saw Bell enter the kitchen. The other women working on the evening meal wondered what was going on when Bell threw herself at Sally and wrapped the old woman in a hug. With that one question Sally had posed, Bell knew why the slaves had given their masters the false lead.

"How are you feeling love?" Bell asked Jackson later that night. Bell had waited until the house was quiet before slipping out in a dark cloak headed for the shack Jackson was in. Tonight they were not going to be separated, since the pirate was all she had thought about after Henri's return.

Jackson was standing in the middle of the room in a loose homespun looking shirt that Sally had provided, looking like her strength was returning. For the first time the couple was able to embrace without fear of anyone seeing them. The dark thoughts that Jackson was trying to sort out disappeared from her head when she felt Bell press her body to hers.

"Much better now cheri. Thank you for coming back. I wanted to see you before I ride out again," said Jackson. There was no missing the sad look in Bell's eyes at that news and Jackson quickly explained why she had to go. "I am getting better Bell, and it is too dangerous for you for me to be here. If Henri ever finds out you have helped me, I fear for you my love, but don't worry I am going to find a way for us to be together."

"I can't go on without you now Jackson. Please don't leave me here with Henri, I couldn't bare it." Jackson dipped her head down to kiss Bell wanting to show her how much she loved her. The action that was meant to convey her affection soon turned passionate and needy.

"Touch me love," said Bell. She wanted her first time to be with this woman who had won her heart. The actions that had made Bell shiver from fear when she imagined Henri doing them, now made her shiver in anticipation when Jackson initiated them. The large hands removed her clothes slowly while the soft lips peppered her skin with small kisses. The more Jackson touched, the closer Bell wanted to be to her, and when she felt Jackson settle on top of her, Bell's world spun out of control.

Jackson was moving slowly, trying to put Bell at ease figuring the girl didn't have much experience. It was becoming increasingly difficult as she watched the nipples on Bell's full breasts become painfully hard. When Jackson sucked one into her mouth Bell almost came off of the cot. "Please Jackson," pleaded Bell. She didn't know what she was asking for, but she needed more from the woman above her.

Jackson moved her hand down Bell's body and poised her fingers at the young woman's opening, looking up to the green eyes that she loved. When Bell nodded her head Jackson slipped in only a little, finding something she didn't expect. Bell looked like she was going to cry when Jackson removed her hand and brought it to the young woman's face.

"Please love, I want it to be you," said Bell. The tears welled up in the green eyes were making Jackson hesitant.

"But you've been married to Henri for months now."

"He doesn't want me like that Jackson. Henri comes out here for that and I don't question it because I don't love him nor want him in my bed. I want you love, and I want my first time to be with you. I love you Jackson," said Bell pulling Jackson back down on her.

The tall pirate didn't need any more words and forgetting her surroundings set out to make Bell's experience memorable. Jackson ran her fingers up and won the wet heat getting Bell's breathing to become almost labored, and preparing her for the next step. The small hands on her shoulders tightened their hold as Jackson broke through the small barrier claiming Bell as her own. After the initial pain, Bell reached a pinnacle that was like finding the secrets to life in that one blissful moment. Jackson's touch and her whispered words of love in Bell's ear brought tears to the young woman's eyes from the intensity of it all.

When they were done, Bell laid on Jackson's side listening to the beat of her heart and reveling in the feel of the woman's skin on hers. The voice below her was so soft that Bell almost missed what Jackson was saying.

"My mother died in this room soon after I was born."

"What?" asked Bell. How would Jackson's mother come to be at Twelve Oaks?

"Sally finally told me the whole story just the other day. You drive me to such distraction cheri that I find myself telling you things about myself long after I should. You have a right to know who it is you love and after I am done you may find Henri a more acceptable choice," said Jackson. She ran her hands up and down Bell's back to soothe herself as well as Bell.

"Never my love," answered Bell. The sun was coming up by the time Jackson finished her story. Sally had promised Jewel to raise Jackson as a male child, knowing it would be the only way to save her from Henri's bed. Had the master figured out Jewel and Sally's secret, Jackson's life would have been even more miserable than the last months of her mother's. Jackson thought her heart would stop when Bell moved away from her when she stopped talking. Relief came when it was only to look at the brand on her back so that she could put a kiss on it.

"I am so sorry that happened to you Jackson, but that won't change the way that I feel. It doesn't matter now how we exist as long as we exist for one another. I want to be with you more than I want to live without you."

"I will find a way cheri, I promise you," vowed Jackson.

By the time Henri returned, Jackson was gone. After their third night together she felt strong enough to travel back into the city. Jackson planned to stick to the same route that had allowed her to escape from Twelve Oaks before and if everything went according to plan she would return for Bell within the month.

From the minute Henri dismounted he noticed something different about Bell, like there was some new sexuality about her that brought out her beauty even more. It was in that look that Henri decided it was time to sample what he had bought in the form of a wife that night.

He walked into the house without a word and Bell never looked at him once. Her attention was trained on the tree-lined path leading to the house as if waiting for someone else to ride up. The plantation mistress had been able to think of nothing else but the touch of Jackson Lafitte for the two days since the woman had left. Bell could swear that Jackson had some magic in her fingers that set fire to her blood with only a simple touch.

At dinner Henri sat down looking across the table to the empty chair of his wife. She had been sitting on the porch all day as much in a fog than the one that was now covering the property. After he finished his meal it would be time for Bell to become his wife in every way that was expected of her.

Stepping out of the house smoking a cigar, Henri paused to look at her again in profile. Her eyes had not moved in all the hours she had been sitting there, and he wondered if she had even blinked. The searching look disappeared instantly and was replaced by a look of total anguish as Bell brought her hands to her mouth. The tears confused Henri until he looked down the path as well and saw Jackson Lafitte staggering up. There was blood pouring out of the man's chest and from the look of his wife, it hurt Bell more than the wounded man.

"Oh god, my love," screamed Bell not caring what Henri's reaction would be. When she flew off the porch to Jackson, Henri retreated back to the house. Sally watched the tableau play out as if molasses had slowed the hands of time.

The gunshot wound that had hit Jackson was to be a fatal wound, and by sheer determination she had made it back to see Bell one last time thinking that Henri was still with the posse that had chased her across the woods. Bell had her back to the front door when Henri stepped out with his hunting rifle cradled in his arms. Without warning he brought it up to his shoulder and fired a single shot into his wife's back.

"I love you Jackson," were the last words she uttered before slipping into death. Her spirit waited for the moment it needed to not go on alone. Bell's last words were the ones Jackson had just told her before wrapping her up in her arms.

The ‘no' that Jackson screamed when she felt the hot blood seep across the green silk of Bell's dress sounded like the cry of a tortured animal. It was the last sound Henri heard before the pistol shot pierced the center of his forehead. He was dead before hitting the ground.

With the last of her strength Jackson cradled Bell in her arms and walked back toward the river. Sally watched as the mist seemed to swallow them whole and they were never seen again.

*  *  *

"You made me listen to this whole story and they both die in the end?" asked an outraged Desi. Before Harry could explain Desi turned her ire to Mona. "And you. What in the world kind of story is that to tell small children before they go to bed? That would have given me nightmares."

"Baby, calm down a minute. It's a Halloween story in actuality. And if you let me tell you the end you would understand. Sally never saw them again and the bodies were never found, fueling rumors that the lovers had escaped to live out their days up north. The only problem with that theory was that Sally had witnessed Henri kill Bella," said Harry. She got a poke in the ribs from Desi when she stopped to take a drink of water.

"And?"

"Jeez, you're impatient. The legend of Jackson and Bell is that on certain nights when the moon is full and the foggy mist off the Mississippi is just right you can see them walking the banks of the river hand in hand. They died for the forbidden love they shared, but their eternal reward was to be able to spend it together in the place the love was born. Till this day they haunt the house and grounds of Twelve Oaks Plantation. Only those people standing on the top veranda with their soul mates have been able to see the legendary Land Pirate and the woman that stole her heart."

"And this is where we're going tomorrow for this party?" asked Desi.

"Yep, and the couple that host it play it up to the hilt. You have to park about a mile away and ride carriages to onto the grounds. They turn off all the electricity and do everything like they would have back then except for ice. Molly figures people would revolt if she didn't have that," explained Tony. When Harry had told him who she and Desi were going as, the decorator decided he and Kenneth would go as Jean and Jewel. He had even made Kenneth grow a thick mustache for the occasion to look more the part of the even more infamous pirate of the gulf.

At three the next afternoon Harry's pager went off and with a lot of protests from Desi left for the hospital with a promise to keep it short. At seven Kenneth, and a very lovely Tony, arrived to pick up a miffed Desi having agreed to meet Harry at the party. Kenneth had dropped by earlier to pick up Harry's costume and hung it in her locker for when Harry got out of surgery.

"That dress looks divine on you sweetie," said Tony. The period piece that Harry had picked out for her partner was a dark green colored silk dress that accentuated the color of Desi's eyes. With her hair pulled up it made the line of her neck look longer because of the low neckline.

They parked in the designated lot and boarded the only covered coach the LeFleur family had hired hoping that Harry would be at the other end to meet them. Ten minutes into the two-mile trip the coach came to a stop as the three riders heard someone say "Whoa, driver."

Tony leaned out of the window to see why they had stopped when his eyes filled with tears at the newfound sentimentality of his old friend. "I think that we are being held up," was all he said as he sat back to wait.

Desi heard the clopping of another horse as it drew near to the back windows, looking up to a living replica of Jackson Lafitte. From the hat and mask down to the black shiny boots, the rider was a draw back to a lost era. The rider held a pistol in each gloved hand as she looked into the back of the carriage. As she drew the huge black horse closer to the window she holstered one weapon as she pulled one of the gloves off with a tug of her teeth. The other pistol she aimed at the driver and with a smile started making demands.

"Driver, your gold." Grabbing the small velvet bag of Godiva chocolate coins out of the air in her bare hand the rider turned her attention back to the passengers. "I see that I have found two treasures tonight," she said leaning into the back. Long fingers cupped Desi's cheek and the small blonde sunk into the kiss. Her bad mood had vanished when she saw Harry sitting on that horse. This would be the story she told their children before bedtime. The original legends could wait until they were older.

"Such beauty and generosity should be rewarded my dear," Harry said in a voice lower than normal. Before riding off, a small pouch was pressed into Desi's hand. The emerald necklace spilled out into her hand along with a small note. Desi read it through her tears as Tony put the choker around her neck.

On a night made for fantasies I realize that you are mine, have always been, and always will be.

Happy Halloween my love,

H

Harry was waiting for them at the end of their short trip, her smile flashing below the mask at seeing Desi wearing the necklace. Desi stepped off the coach into a welcoming hug and deep kiss that left her feet dangling for a few minutes. Without a word, Harry led her partner to the second floor for a moment of privacy.

The two lovers shared a waltz on the second floor veranda alone, stopping momentarily when a small blonde woman appeared at the top of the levee across from them. Even from this distance they could see her smiling at them. From the fog a larger body joined her. The tall dark pirate tipped her hat before taking her lover's hand and gave them a smile as well. Together they vanished into the mist unseen by the two now sharing a kiss on the veranda.

THE END

Happy Halloween
Comments to terrali20@yahoo.com

GUILT

Disclaimers:

The characters are of my own creation. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from me, the author

If the thought of two women being romantically involved is not for you, then this story is one you won't want to read. But seriously if you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed move on, literally.

Sit back and enjoy the story and if you have something wonderful to say about it write to me at

terrali20@yahoo.com.

I want to thank my betas for correcting this for me. Jaden, Sue R, Lenore and Doc, you are all godsends. I bow to your grammatical knowledge.

Let me also take the opportunity to thank all of you that read these literary vacations my imagination takes every so often. Your wonderful notes and words of encouragement mean everything and I appreciate them all.

Thank you to Stephanie and the wonderful folks over at The Royal Academy of Bards for hosting this Halloween special again. Without you, we would be bards without an audience.

Happy Halloween!

This one, as always, is dedicated to the woman who is all my leading ladies rolled into one. When I write about love and everything that comes with it, I learned all of it from you. Thank God you have taken me on as a lifelong student.

You're traveling to another dimension.
A dimension not only of sight and sound, but also of mind.
A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of the imagination.
There's a signpost up ahead, your next stop.
The Twilight Zone.

GUILT

THE COURTROOM WAS packed. The trial had lasted three weeks and everyone that had been lucky enough to get a seat in the gallery was listening to the prosecutor give her closing statement. Even the defendant, who had watched the tall woman shred the credibility of every one of his witnesses, sat glued to her next word.

First Assistant District Attorney, Mordecai Sydney O'Shea had a reputation for grabbing the attention of a jury and leading them with the facts to the verdict she was looking for. Her boss loved the news coverage after every murder conviction, and with her record, there were plenty of cameras always hanging around. Mordecai hadn't lost a case since coming to work for Gilbert Gilespy, the District Attorney, and everyone present was certain John Rohan wasn't going to be her first.

"Guilt. A one-syllable word that sometimes carries with it the most costly penalty for those that fall within its trap. For Mordecai O'Shea it's always meant victory. One more scumbag off the streets and headed for either life in prison or the needle, and at age thirty five she's piled up more than her share of kills for the justice system. But everyone who knows her is quick to defend her character and tell you about how noble she is - living life by the same code of honor with which she treats the law. You don't cheat, you don't steal, you play by the rules — always, and you don't kill."

"Sydney, as her friends know her, has finally chosen to settle down, and settle is how some of those closest to her would define it. For two years she's shared her life and her bed with Kay Millard, an uptown socialite who captured the Assistant DA's attention at one of the cocktail parties always being hosted in one of the mansions along St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans, Louisiana. Petite in stature, but not in personality, Kay put Sydney in her sights much like a lioness with a gazelle that's fallen behind the herd."

"Kay's main problem is that she doesn't live by the same code or rules that Sydney has set for herself. After twenty-four months, she's grown bored with the concept of a committed relationship and with monogamy. What she hasn't grown bored with is the O'Shea family money. As Sydney puts more notches in her gun belt for justice, Kay has started to accumulate her share of notches on other people's bedposts."

"So you ask yourself, is this a story about a love gone wrong where the end is predictable? Come on, we've read this a million times through history. A lover scorned and in the clutches of grief kills the one who has broken their heart. No, this is a different story, one which will explore the true nature of cruelty and of perseverance. In the end we will see how far greed will push one woman, and how far the other is willing to bend her principles in the face of pain. Mordecai is about to learn the lessons that can only be learned in The Twilight Zone."

"Ladies and gentleman, I want to first thank you for time and service. Jury duty is always something you think's going to happen, well never. You tell yourself that the day you march down to the courthouse to register to vote until that summons arrives. Then you take off from work to come down here and find out it's a murder trial, and the cherry on the ‘I'm having a crappy day sundae' comes when you hear the word sequestered." The fourteen people in the box along the wall sitting in comfortable leather chairs laughed at Sydney's opening remarks. If they all admitted it, they would have sat through another three weeks of testimony just to watch the woman in action.

Sydney walked to the railing that separated the prosecution's table from the jurors, undid the button of her jacket and put her hands on the old ornate wood. "You've been great listening to the facts that help you decide Mr. Rohan's fate, and that is what we're asking you to do, decide this man's fate."

The consummate communicator looked at all fourteen sets of eyes before she went on, making each one of the jurors feel like the center of the universe at that one moment in time. Each of them in return looked into the deep blue eyes; feeling like they could believe whatever Sydney had to say next. She turned and pointed toward the defendant, John Rohan.

"The defense will have you believe that Mr. Rohan's wife, Marie Rohan, just decided to walk out one day and into the arms of another man. Plausible enough story, this is Louisiana after all. Passion's in our nature." She stopped and turned back toward the chuckling jurors giving them the killer smile that had made women swoon for years.

"But let's review the rest of that story, shall we? Marie finds some hunk to replace her boring husband, so on a Friday afternoon she drives off into the sunset with this mystery man for a better life. She's so caught up in the rapture of new love she leaves behind not only her purse and the paycheck she'd picked up that morning, but most importantly — she leaves behind Bridget and Mollie, her two young daughters." Sydney ticked off the list holding up a finger for each point she mentioned. "She's so caught up in the rapture that she doesn't tell anyone. Not her mother, whom she spoke to every morning, not her children whose lives she cherished? No, ladies and gentlemen, the only person Marie told was her husband of ten years, John Rohan." She pointed now to the defendant and drew the jury's attention back to him.

"She sends John a ‘Dear John' letter." Again the laughter came not only from the jurors but also from the gallery and the judge's bench as well. "Appropriate in this case I know." She picked up the letter she had referred to, sealed away for posterity in a clear plastic evidence bag marked ‘State's Exhibit #42.' "Our proverbial red herring in this whole drama, the letter from Marie."

Sydney read parts of it again to strength her argument. "Tell the children I miss them but I'm not ready to come home. I've grown to hate you John. Your silence and anger are two things I can no longer live with. I've found someone else who fulfills the need in my heart and in my soul."

"I find it hard to believe that the one person Marie chose to contact after her departure in any fashion was John Rohan. The man, if this letter's indeed from her, she herself says she hates. She doesn't write to her mother or her sister or even her children. What I don't understand is why the only fingerprints the police and FBI labs were able to find on this page and on the envelope are Mr. Rohan's? Did she feel such contempt for him that she put on gloves to pen this letter?" Sydney held the letter up and walked back to the jurors' box. "No, ladies and gentlemen, this letter was written by Mr. Rohan to cover his tracks. It was hard for Marie to write anything under three feet of dirt concealed by the rose garden. A garden you could see from the window of the master bedroom she'd shared with her husband of ten years."

Sydney put the letter back on the table and picked up a polyester shirt next to it. Everyone had been amazed that after ten years of being buried, the shirt and shorts Marie had last been seen wearing were in remarkable shape except for a little dirt. "This is what really happened that Friday night. Marie came home from work to find her husband sitting at the kitchen table. He told her he'd found someone new and wanted to make a life with this girl. An argument ensued in which Marie told him he was free to go, but the children were staying with her. That wasn't what John had in mind so he followed the upset woman into the den, where in a fit of anger he struck her in the back of the head with the poker from the fireplace. The medical examiner from LSU testified that was the first blow," said Sydney as she pulled the sheet back on the gurney that had first been rolled in during the trial. The staff at LSU had meticulously laid Marie Rohan's bones out after they had been recovered from the Rohan's backyard. Sydney picked up the fractured skull and pointed to the back. The gasps that had come when the police had first wheeled it in came again. "But it wasn't the death blow." She put the skull down and covered the bones as if to give Marie Rohan some of her dignity back.

The muddied shirt held the key to the murder they were prosecuting so Sydney picked it up again. "In a panic from seeing his wife moaning and bleeding on the floor, John went into a self-preservation mode. He did the only thing he thought would get him out of the situation, he shot Marie in the back to put her out of her misery and his." The back of the shirt showed the hole to support Sydney's story.

She put the props down and moved back to the people who would decide the case. It was time to tie up all the loose ends that would erase any doubt and any guilt that would come from giving John Rohan the punishment he deserved. "Had he stopped there and called the police, you could define this as a crime of passion. In the heat of a fight I struck and shot my wife, Mr. Rohan could have told you, but he didn't. No, this cold murderous bastard drove around for two days with Marie in the trunk of his car until he was able to bury her in their yard. Two days, ladies and gentlemen, think about that. Two days during which he went to work, visited his girlfriend and future wife, and went about his business while his wife was stuffed into the trunk of his car."

Some of the jurors shivered at the scenario and the rest glared at the seemingly unaffected John Rohan. The man looked like Sydney was talking about someone else as she spelled out his own macabre end behind the fences of the Angola State Penitentiary. "If it hadn't been for Mr. Rohan's arrogance we might've never heard from Marie again. Selling the house to someone who installed a new septic system was this sweet woman's chance to speak to you from the grave." The new owner had found the bones as he leveled his yard after the job was complete. Part of a jawbone led a team of police on a digging expedition in the Rohan yard for the rest of Marie's bones.

"She spoke to you in this courtroom as well when you saw her remains, her clothes and heard about her life. Marie Rohan wasn't somewhere living it up with a new man. She was dead. Had the defendant given her the chance she would have given him his divorce. She would've been happy to live out the rest of her life with her family and her children. This wasn't some loose woman who was out running the streets and hanging out in bars, this was a woman who did volunteer work for the church and drove her daughters to dance classes and Bible study. Go into your deliberations and give Marie what she's asking for, justice. The defendant, John Rohan is guilty of second-degree murder. Marie deserves no less than that verdict. Thank you."

Sydney looked at them for a second longer before turning back to her seat. The defense attorney didn't have as much to say to explain away all the evidence the state had accumulated against his client. If the idiot had only stayed in the house, was his only thought as he sat down when he was finished.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have heard from the defense and from the state. The court will adjourn giving you the time to weigh the evidence presented by both sides and we will meet here again when you have reached a decision. If there's anything I can do from answering questions to providing anything you need to reach that verdict, please inform the bailiff outside the door and I'll see to it immediately. Court is in recess." The judge banged the gavel once and the jurors were escorted down the hall to their new home until they came to a unanimous verdict.

Sydney and her two assistants watched as the jurors walked out. They stood and smiled at each person as a way of giving them a virtual pat on the back for a job well done. Unless the four men and eight women were brain dead a guilty verdict wouldn't take that long. The two alternates were on their way back to the hotel in case they were needed.

"Nice job, Ice," said Elwood White one of the assistant DAs who had worked on the case. All the new attorneys on staff wanted to second chair for Sydney. There was no better teacher with which to cut your teeth within the criminal judicial system than Sydney O'Shea. Win after win had earned her the nickname Ice, the other reason was her take no prisoners attitude during sentencing.

"Thanks, guys, it was a team effort. I appreciate all the long hours and weekends you put in. If the jury comes back early, drinks are on me." Sydney put the rest of her papers into the beat up leather briefcase as she talked, wanting to go back to the office to get some work done before heading home. She noticed the blonde sitting in the last row of the gallery when she turned from the table to go.

"I see Ice strikes again. Those women were creaming in their pants to give you what you want, Mordecai." Sydney laughed at the blonde's comment that had no doubt been said to get a rise out of her.

"Hey, darlin', I didn't know you were coming down here today. What's your verdict?"

Kay looked up into the blue eyes and smiled. It was times like this that reminded her why she'd fallen in love with Sydney. The power she exuded was intoxicating, but the black hair, dark tanned skin, blue eyes and classic features didn't hurt. At parties and political events they made a dashing couple. The tall dark idealistic avenger of the innocent fighting the good fight, and the diminutive fair maiden who spun words as a local reporter who did anything to get the full story.

"Guilty, baby. Isn't that what you always tell me?" Kay moved to the railing and leaned over for a kiss. "Are you free for lunch?"

"If we make it quick and we make it Chinese. The pile of wicked people in need of a spanking has gotten high on my desk while I was playing with Mr. Rohan."

"Come on, Captain Marvel, it'll be my treat." The small blonde grabbed the brown case on the table and handed it to one of the men behind Sydney. "Deliver this back to the bat cave if you would, I'm stealing her away for an hour."

"Are you just fishing for an exclusive?" asked Sydney.

"Would I do that, baby?"

"Yes, I think that's the only reason you live with me sometimes."

"You wound me, lover, but I'll let it slide since I do what I must so New Orleanians can get the news."

The steps of the courthouse on Tulane and Broad were crowded with people there for trial, attorneys looking for new clients and the police officers who kept everyone in line. One of the men in blue was busy watching the Mercedes roadster with the top down that was doubled parked. It was a toss up as to which got more looks, the car or the woman who drove it.

On a reporter's salary alone, Kay probably couldn't have afforded a nice bicycle much less the pretty import, but she had married well. Sydney's family had built a shipping company over four generations that was now worldwide. The O'Sheas were hard working and had millions to show for it. As the oldest of four from the fourth generation of O'Sheas that had founded the company, Sydney's money had been invested in blind trusts so there would never be a hint of impropriety with her job. Her three younger brothers had gone to work for her father, but the old man talked incessantly to anyone that cared to listen about his kid the ADA.

"Thanks, Wally, I owe you one." Kay hugged the large guy sitting on the hood of her birthday present.

"Anytime, Kay, and you," he pointed to Sydney. "Good job today. The guys were talking about you holding up that head, I'm sorry I missed it."

"Don't worry, Wally. You'll get to read all about it in tomorrow's paper," said Kay. The second her door shut the phone in her purse rang. "Millard here, talk to me." She turned away from Wally and Sydney a little as she recognized the voice on the other end. "I'll be there in fifteen. Thanks for giving me the heads up."

"News flash?" The nearness of Sydney's voice startled Kay into almost dropping the phone.

"You scared me, baby, and yes, I've got to go to work. Can you forgive me for skipping out on lunch?" Sydney just sighed and nodded her head. Their time together was getting to be a precious commodity. "You're the best, Mordecai." Kay drove off in the direction of the docks without another word or a kiss goodbye.

"Not the shoes, mama, not yet." Charlie Thompson looked like a little man in his school uniform. The only thing missing from the navy blue shorts, shirt and socks were the black shoes the school insisted on to complete the ensemble. If Charlie got his wish, it would stay that way.

"Yes the shoes, Charlie, come on we're going to be late. It's just orientation today so I promise you won't have to keep them on long." The pretty blonde looked down at the little heart breaker and couldn't blame him. In an effort to speed up the process Blithe Thompson put on her own shoes.

The excitement of Charlie's first day of preschool was sharing time in her brain with the conversation Blithe had had with her friend Kay the night before. Even though their relationship went back to their first day of preschool, the two had drifted apart over the last few years. There were her responsibilities with Charlie, and Kay's relationship with Sydney and her work. Except for an occasional lunch and a monthly phone call to catch up, the two rarely spoke.

It was the absence of the closeness they had once shared that surprised Blithe about Kay's request. Sitting on her sofa the night before, Blithe had felt like she was in some twisted episode of the Twilight Zone as Kay spelled out the favor she was asking of her old friend. The light of morning still wasn't making it any less surreal.

"Why do I hafta go, mama? Don't you want me around to play with?" Charlie cocked his head to the side to work on his mother's sympathies.

"You've got to go so you can learn to read. When I'm old and you're taking care of me, I don't want you giving me the wrong medicine because you wanted to say home and play with your trains instead of going to school. I promise you're going to love it, Charlie boy." She grunted when she picked him up to hug him. With any luck he'd be bigger than her five feet three inches. "I love you, buddy, and I'll be right beside you all afternoon."

"Thanks, mama, I love you too."

The phone rang as Blithe pulled the older model minivan out of her driveway. A social worker for children's services, she was almost always on call.

"Hello."

"Did you think about what we talked about?" Kay got off the interstate near the river and headed toward the back end of the garden district.

"It's hard not to, and I still can't believe you think it's going to work."

"Blithe, don't be such a prude. Sydney just needs a little push in the right direction then she'll see the light. If I'm not the only one guilty of cheating it'll be harder for her to pull that righteous indignation she does so well."

"And you get to keep trucking in style too. Isn't that what it's all about?"

"I love Sydney, silly. I don't want to lose her over an itch. This thing will be over in less than two months, but I still need the security an affair of her own will give me."

Blithe heard the wind and engine stop from the other end signaling that Kay had gotten to wherever she was going. "As a mental health professional I can't begin to tell you how screwed up your thinking is. It's your life, Kay, find someone else to help you derail it."

"You owe me."

"Dream on, girl, I don't owe you anything. Why can't you just be happy that you found someone who loves you and thinks it's a bad thing to sleep with other people? If you love her this isn't the way to show her."

"Because I'm not even thirty, Blithe. I enjoy sex, but I don't think I should lose everything because of it. Think about it and I'll call you later." Kay ended the call before Blithe could put forth any more rational arguments. Her first caller stepped onto the porch of the old shotgun with his shirt off. Stuck in with the chest hair was a mixture of fresh and dried paint flecks from working that morning.

Matt Franklin had gotten an itch of his own in the middle of a canvas and was certain Kay was only a phone call away. The aspiring artist smiled when Kay licked her lips and bumped the car door closed with her shapely behind.

The two had met at a gallery opening six months before and after an evening of conversation, figured they had a few things in common. The most important being an attraction for each other that Kay had wasted no time acing on. With Sydney working such long hours, finding time with Matt hadn't been a problem. But it was days like today, when Kay gave her partner time to put that brilliant analytical mind to work with a sudden departure, that worried her. Blithe was going to be Kay's security ticket to keeping Sydney and her extra curricular fun.

"Get in here and get naked, I feel like fucking," said Matt holding the front door.

"It's nice when great minds think alike because so do I, baby." Kay moved to follow him inside never noticing the car across the street. The pad the man put back into his breast pocket had her license plate number and the digital camera that was worth more than the piece of shit he was driving had a series of shots of the kiss the couple had shared before going inside. His personal favorite as he reviewed them was the last three when a paint-splattered hand grabbed a hand full of ass.

Hugo wasn't the sharpest pencil in the box, but he knew the lady wasn't there to look at the guy's etchings. With the amount of fucking around this guy did, it was a wonder he found time to paint.

"I heard Vincent Carlotti's gotten through the feds net again. This is what, the fourth time they've tried him and lost?" Nick, the other assistant assigned to Sydney, came back to the table and put a cup in front of her and Elwood. The three had escaped from the office after news of the broken air conditioning system had been high on everyone's priority list of complaints when they got back from court.

"They need to pull their heads out of their asses and fry this guy. I mean everyone knows he's the head of organized crime in the city; it's not a secret. So why can't the feebies figure it out? Vinny's been off limits to us because all those wiretaps and FBI tails haven't been able to prove murder, but we all know he's doing that too." Sydney rolled her sleeves up and grabbed the next folder on the stack they had brought with them as she listened to Elwood complain about the federal prosecutor's inability to close the deal on Carlotti.

The coffee shop was fairly empty and was far enough away so that the usual legal crowd that tried to push deals for their clients weren't going to be stopping by the table. If the Rohan verdict came in, three cell phones were sitting in the middle of the table ready to receive the call.

"State versus Larry Smith. Drug possession with intent to distribute and gun possession. Wasn't this dipshit in court two months ago facing the same charges? He's out on bail so he can finish moving his product, fabulous." Sydney read the folder seeing that Larry had two kilos of coke when the officer pulled him over for a broken tail light.

"His lawyer called me and said dear Larry's willing to plead to the drugs and give up some of his suppliers in exchange for simple possession. He's willing to do five to ten," said Elwood after looking at his notes. "There's a tape of his arrest by the way."

"How sweet of him. No deals on this one, Elwood. Mr. Smith's going down to the farm for life, and it's going to be you that's going to nail his ass there. I already know who his suppliers are, and did he think I'd forget he's on probation for an earlier offense? Last time I checked the law, gentlemen, carrying a gun while on probation's a crime."

"Next we have the State versus Gary Augustern," Nick held up the brown folder. "Poor guy was having a bad day so he shot and killed four people at a gas station last night. This one's hot off the presses, boss."

"Was it the crazy weather that made him do it?" asked Sydney.

"The crack cocaine he'd smoked and the fact they were out of Pringles drove him to commit multiple homicide."

"Can happen to the best of us. Did he ask for a cash donation while committing this heinous crime?"

"Yes, it was the least they could do since they were out of the chips he was craving," answered Nick.

"Start working the brief for the grand jury and make sure you're both at the bail hearing. This guy gets remanded. Don't let some pansy judge let this one lose on society. Gary's going down for first degree murder and tell his public defender we're going for the death penalty." Sydney broke the pile into four smaller piles and sent the two men back to the office to hand out assignments. Capital cases took precedence so some of her colleagues would get the rest of the cases that had been waiting for her.

She pulled out her laptop and started looking for the case files that would be needed to start building a capital case. Behind Sydney the door opened letting in new customers in search of a chocolate malt to celebrate a successful first day of school.

"Can you believe we can make our own paint, mama?" Charlie held up the small container the teacher had given each child to take home to make a finger painting for the following Monday. The project had been easy but fun enough to build excitement in each student to want to come back the next week.

"And red too. That's your favorite color. Now go find us a table and I'll get us a treat." Blithe moved to the counter to order while keeping an eye on her son as he climbed into a chair and pulled a sheet of blank paper out of the new school bag she had bought.

Memories of her school days came back with a smile. The end of the summer always meant new pencils, crayons and notebooks. Blithe just hoped Charlie would love school as much as she had. Her trip down memory lane made Blithe miss little dexterous fingers open the finger paint and the beginning of Charlie's masterpiece.

Charlie poured some of the paint on one of the sheets he'd taken out so he could coat his hands. With that done he pressed them into the middle of the second sheet, pleased with the result when he lifted them off. Another coating brought forth another set of handprints, but no room to put another set. The little boy's laughter was drowned out by the blender the waiter was using to make the two malts. With a fresh coat of paint on his hands, Charlie looked for a new canvas. A quick look around the shop found him the perfect spot. It was stark white, broad and looked like it was in dire need of adornment. Leaving more than a little bit of paint on his chair when he climbed down, he lost no time in zeroing in on his target when his legs hit solid ground.

Sydney's head popped up when Blithe yelled, "Charlie, no!" She wondered why right before a little cyclone ran into her back. The attorney turned in her chair to find a contrite child holding up red tinted hands like they were frozen in that position. She guessed that the rest of the paint she was now on the Egyptian cotton covering her shoulders.

"Charles William Thompson, you're in so much trouble, young man." The reprimand Blithe started with reminded Sydney of her mother and the constant stream of fussing caused by her four children from hell.

"Are there two red hand prints on my back?" Sydney asked the little boy who was still holding his hands up in front of him.

"Yeah sorry." He turned and looked at his mother hoping not to find too mad a face from the woman still at the counter. In front of him, Sydney reached into her bag and pulled out a badge.

"I could place you under arrest for painting up an officer of the law, young man." The joke backfired on her when the small boy's lip started to tremble with fear. "I'm kidding, come on don't cry. I think you might be in more trouble from your mother than you are from me." She pointed to the pretty blonde and smiled. Before there could be any other conversation her phone and pager went off at the same time. "O'Shea." Sydney answered the call. "All right, round up Frick and Frack and tell them I'll meet them at the courthouse."

"I'm so sorry for my son." Blithe had moved closer to the table in an attempt to calm any bad feelings down since she saw the woman was getting ready to leave.

"Don't be, we'll blame it on his temperamental artist side. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I'm due back in court."

Blithe looked at the good-looking woman and wanted to draw out the conversation. Since Charlie's birth sent her girlfriend packing, no one that had gotten past asking her name without striking out. This person seemed nice and didn't seem like some idiot that was just looking for a score.

"Can we make it up to you?"

"It's really all right. I'm sure Charles William Thompson didn't mean it and I'm guessing you don't let him play with oil based enamels so a good run through the heavy duty cycle should get it right out."

"I'm sure it will but we'd still like to make it up to you." Blithe knelt by Charlie and started to wipe the excess paint off his hands before he got into any more trouble.

"How about you two buy me a cup of coffee tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday so if you don't mind waiting until our park play date's over, we'll meet you back here at, let's say two."

"What's there to do at the park, Charlie?" Sydney asked him so he wouldn't feel like he was being left out of the conversation.

"Swings are my favorite but I don't have anybody to push me high like all the other kids do. Mama tries but Gabriel's dad does the best job. He's really big and my mama's really not."

Sydney stood up and looked down at the blonde and her black haired child. She and Kay had never talked about children but looking at Charlie made her regret never taking the time to have that conversation. If she ever had a son it would have been nice to look at such a small person who looked so much like she did. Charlie looked nothing like his mother with the black shiny hair and big blue eyes. Sydney shook her head and chalked her thoughts up to some innate drive to perpetuate her family line.

Charlie followed her trip from the chair to her feet and was in awe when the big body finally unfolded itself. This lady was a lot bigger than Gabriel's dad was, and he'd bet she was a champion swing pusher.

"Wow! You sure are big."

Sydney laughed and knelt down as well to be on the level of the two Thompsons. "I'm hoping you meant that in a good way or I really will bring you and your mother in for insulting my workout plan."

"I just think you would be great pushing me on the swing. I could go higher than Gabriel if you were there to push me," Charlie explained.

Sydney's phone rang again before she could comment on his request. "O'Shea. Yeah I heard you the first time. Have someone outside waiting because I'm not going to have time to park the car. I should've just stayed in the sauna since I had a feeling they weren't going to be out long."

"Mama, you hafta get her to come tomorrow. Just once I'd like to beat Gabriel at the swings."

Blithe thought of the best solution for the both of them. If she talked the woman into coming to the park, Charlie would be happy and if she got to do the woman a favor maybe she'd feel indebted enough to make her happy too. "We could give you a ride to wherever you're late for, then when you're done we could bring you back here for that cup of coffee. Sound good?"

"I can't let you do that, Miss."

"It's not letting me when I offer, and please call me Blithe. You've already met Charlie."

"Well Blithe and Charlie the law abiding citizens of New Orleans will thank you if you could do that."

"I'll ask what you mean in the car and now that you know who we are, what's your name?"

"Mordecai O'Shea."

"What?" asked Blithe.

"Mordecai O'Shea's my name. You just asked me, remember?"

"But you're a woman."

"Last time I checked. I'm also the eldest of four and the subject of my mother's sense of humor, or maybe it was her love of Seuss. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you've never read Dr. Seuss. You have a small child, I thought it was a prerequisite."

"What book?" Blithe watched as Sydney kept packing her bag looking up only to wave at the guy behind the counter.

"So…

Be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray

Or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,

You're off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So…get on your way!"

The voice sounded like it had run through the lines more than once and it made Blithe and Charlie laugh. After hearing them they had in fact read the book Sydney was quoting and it had never occurred to Blithe that someone would actually name their child for it.

"Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss, is that right?"

"That's right Ms. Thompson. I have to thank her though, I've gotten in more fights because of that name than I care to remember, and because of that I can hold my own in any situation. To cut down on the teasing after I turned ten, I go by my middle name."

The café worker brought out the two malts and gave Sydney a slip to sign. Blithe moved to pick up all of Charlie's things intending to give Sydney a ride. The busy phone made an appearance again as Sydney dialed her office.

"Sal, meet me in front of Judge Rose's court with a fresh shirt and please don't ask what happened to the old one." Sally had been her executive assistant since she had come to work for Gilbert. The old woman was an outcast in the District Attorney's office because of her attitude, but had loved Sydney from the first day they had been introduced. But just because she loved her didn't mean she didn't love giving her a hard time.

"You're late already, O'Shea. The only thing you got going for you is that it's after twelve noon, cause you know how much pleasure that man gets out of hanging people." Sally said referring to the judge.

"I'm on my way, beautiful. If I don't make it in time go on in and let him make doe eyes at you."

The young man behind the counter waved Blithe off along with her money. Sydney had put the two malts on her tab, which surprised him after seeing her shirt. "Are you going to tell me what your middle name is, or shall Charlie and I call you Mordecai?"

Only my mother and father call me that without me putting my fists up, and Kay but her calling me that is starting to work my last nerve. The thought went through Sydney's head as she looked at the twinkling green eyes looking up at her.

"Wait don't tell me, it's Ali Van Allen?" Blithe laughed and got a smile out of Sydney with her joke.

"It's Sydney, funny lady. I really do have to get going."

Another police officer was waiting for Sydney outside on the sidewalk, surprised when she got out of the minivan with peeling paint. Sally was waiting with him with a fresh shirt under her arm, retrieved from the drawer of Sydney's desk. Blithe sat behind the wheel and wanted nothing more than to drive off after getting over the shock of who she had accidentally run into. After seeing Sydney for the first time, Kay's favor didn't sound like such a gross proposition.

"Thanks for the ride. If you want you can go. I don't know how long this is going to take, and I don't want you and the mad painter to be bored."

"How are you going to get your car?"

"I'll get someone from my office to bring me back. Thanks for the ride over here."

Blithe watched as Sally stepped to the passenger side of her van and held up a new shirt. In the middle of the commotion of the Tulane and Broad streets corner, Sydney stepped out and stripped the dirty one off. If anyone headed up the stairs to the courthouse noticed none of them slowed down to stare. Blithe found herself unable to look away though. Why Kay would take any chances on losing the fabulously built Sydney was beyond comprehension at this point. Not that physical attributes should be the one deciding factor. Sydney had proved to have a wonderful personality, but the abdominal muscles she was gawking at were hard to ignore.

"Mind if we come in and watch?"

"Sure, I'm not sure how exciting it's going to be, but you and Charlie are welcome." Sydney made short work of the buttons on the new shirt before tucking it into her pants. The fine, almost linen, cotton garments with her initials on the cuffs were gifts from her mother.

Gracelia O'Shea's full time job was taking care of her family. She still shopped for all four of her children as well as her husband and joked with her friends that the five O'Sheas were under the impression they had a magic underwear and sock drawer. All of the girlfriends and then wives knew when it was time to throw in the towel to the small Italian woman's shopping sprees. The one thing the women were grateful for was that Grace had not added them to her list. The other thing that was perfectly clear was when you riled the Irish and Italian ire in Grace's children by saying a cross word about her, all four of them came out swinging first without asking questions. The two women that had married into the family could only hope to instill such family loyalty in their future children.

"If you're good enough, maybe Charlie can bring you to show and tell."

"I'm good enough, don't worry about that. If that jury comes back with a not guilty verdict I'll trade cars with you."

"Mighty confident."

"I'm just sure about this one. Mr. Rohan has no one to blame for this unfortunate afternoon but himself. I'm a firm believer that everyone is free to make their choices in life, with that comes the responsibility of owning up to those choices."

"Spoken like a true attorney."

"I don't expect anything less from myself, ma'am.

"And polite too. Go on before I make you any later. Charlie and I'll be right in as soon as I find a parking spot." Sydney took the permit Sally was holding up without asking how she knew she'd need one, and handed it over to Blithe.

"Just put this on the dash and pull up a little." Sydney pointed to the curb ahead of them. "Good bye, Charlie, I'll see you in a little while." The attorney walked at a fast pace up the stairs followed by her staff. Blithe looked at the long legs and groaned.

"Maybe she won't notice, Charlie."

"Please rise." The bailiff yelled over the din in the large courtroom.

Judge Jude Rose situated his robe before banging down the gavel. "Be seated. Madame Forewoman, you've informed my bailiff you have reached a verdict?"

"Yes, sir your honor." The judge looked over the form his bailiff had taken from the woman with the tag Juror #3 and read it over.

"Everything seems to be in order, officer, if you would," instructed the judge.

"We the jury, in the above entitled case find the defendant, John Rohan, guilty of second degree murder."

Screaming from both sides of the families involved started the moment the bailiff had finished, prompting the judge to start banging his gavel from a standing position. "Sit down and shut up. This is a court of law, people, not an episode of the Springer Show. One more outburst like that and I'll have the room cleared." The noise stopped so abruptly it seemed like someone had flipped a switch.

Sydney was hiding a smile behind her hand as she sat back down. When the screaming had started she had stood up and faced the gallery. It was a reaction she'd learned when an unhappy family member in a previous case had flung a concealed rock at the back of her head. Six stitches had taught her to be vigilant ever since.

"And, Ms. O'Shea, care to tell me why you have two lollipops stuck to the back of your pants?" asked Jude getting a small laugh out of the court staff. If there was one thing you could count on from Sydney, aside from always being prepared, was her immaculate appearance.

Sydney swung around again to find two sets of innocent Thompson eyes staring back. "I apologize for my appearance, your honor, it won't happen again."

"Mr. Rohan, I'll see you in three weeks for sentencing. Bailiff, take Mr. Rohan into custody please. We're adjourned." The gavel wrapped against the small block it sat on once again, turning the noise back on when the judge stood. "Sydney, a moment please."

"Yes, sir?"

"I hear you caught the Augustern case."

"Yes, sir, and don't worry, no deals on this one. I'll be ready to go to trial by next month."

"Just like your father, Mordecai, that's what I love about you. I just wanted to check my facts. One of the people killed in the convenience store was a friend of Victoria's, so you'll have my wife to answer to if you cut any deals."

"Don't worry, Mr. Jude, deals aren't in my nature on cases like this."

"Give your parents my best and tell them we'll see them at the end of next month for their anniversary." The old O'Shea family friend patted Sydney on the back and headed for his chambers.

"I'm so sorry." Blithe was standing by the railing holding Charlie. "I wanted to call you back from the car, but you were already running late."

"You saw two suckers sticking to the back of my leg and you let me come in here like that?"

"Um…yeah?"

"I meant that thing about having people arrested that I told Charlie earlier."

"How about we take you to dinner to celebrate your victory, then I'll give you the name of my dry cleaner for all the crimes Charlie and I've committed against your clothing?"

"Is there anything else hiding under your seats?"

"I have a three year old, I'm not making any promises. What's the matter, you've never gotten dirty in your life?" Blithe held the gate open for Sydney hoping she would walk through and accept her invitation. They had only just met but she was guessing the attorney was kidding about being mad.

"I haven't been messy since the early nineties, it's not a look I do well. As for dinner, I'll have to take my chances. Do you mind waiting while I make a quick phone call?"

"Please take your time, it's early yet." Blithe sat in the first row and watched the elderly couple wait until Sydney had finished her call. The DA was frustrated when Kay didn't answer her cell phone and the newsroom told her they didn't know where she was or that they were aware that she was working on a story.

"Ms. O'Shea." The old man got up and helped his wife off the bench seat. They had sat through the testimony and watched as the charismatic woman defended the dead Marie Rohan's honor. They had waited so long for this day and could only thank God they had lived to see it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, I'm so sorry about your daughter. I hope that today's outcome has brought some sense of closure with all this. That seems like a trite thing to say in the face of your pain, but I'm glad we could do our part to punish the person responsible for Marie's death."

"You will be in our family's prayers from this day forth, Ms. O'Shea. My Marie deserved better than she got in her life but she couldn't have found a better champion from the grave." The older woman stepped forward and hugged Sydney to her as her way of saying thank you. The simple act showed Blithe the other side of what people suffer through and what set them on the path of healing. She tried to do that everyday with the children she saw, but Sydney had done it with a good case.

"Thank you, ma'am, I can't get enough of those."

"Is this your son?" Mrs. Bailey pointed to Charlie.

"No, ma'am, he's my friend though, and if you and Mr. Bailey will excuse us, he and his mom were taking me out to dinner. If there's anything you need from me, please just call me at home or at the office. You still have the numbers right?"

"Yes we do, and you all have a good night."

"Silly, will you come to push me on the swings?" asked Charlie as they walked out of the empty courtroom and took the back stairs to avoid the press. Gilbert and Sydney's two assistants on the case were doing a good enough job talking to them without her.

"Silly?"

"He tried to pronounce Sydney and it hasn't worked out yet," explained Blithe.

"Charlie, can you say Cai?"

"Cai," he faithfully repeated after his new hero.

"Let's go with that then."

It was after nine before the three new friends got out of the pizza parlor that Blithe had driven to from the courthouse. The one thing that struck Sydney as she carried the sleeping Charlie to the van was that it had been forever since she had laughed as easily as she had that night. The new shirt that Sally had brought out to her was now covered in sauce along the sleeves where the little boy touched every time he wanted to get her attention, but the neat fanatic didn't seem to mind.

Blithe turned in the driver's seat when they arrived back at the coffee shop so Sydney could get her car, and looked at her passenger. She had a feeling that the exuberant Charlie had broadened the scope of Sydney's orderly life after just one afternoon.

"Can I confess something to you?" asked Blithe.

"Sure."

"I know Kay."

"And?"

"You've never heard of me?" Blithe found it hard to believe that one of her oldest friends hadn't mentioned her or her son to the person she lived with.

"I'm sorry but no. If she had, I'd have said something when we met this afternoon. I can't explain Kay's actions, but she likes to keep her secrets every so often, and I'm afraid I'm so busy most of the time I don't take the time to question why."

"I just thought you should know that we know each other."

Sydney smiled and tried to decipher what Blithe was talking about. "I'll mention it to her when we get home if it'll make you feel better. Thank you for dinner and celebrating with me. You and your son were great."

"You'll make his day if you show up tomorrow to push him on the swing."

"I'll try, Blithe, but I can't make any promises. I've got a big case coming up, which means my time is going to be wrapped up in that for weeks to come."

"If you get a chance it's the park before you get to the university. I'd like it if you came."

"If you know Kay, then you know that we live together."

"And? What's your point, counselor?"

"I don't cheat, Blithe."

"I'm asking you to push my kid on a swing, not sleep with me."

"Sorry, I just didn't want there to be any misunderstandings if I do show up tomorrow."

The van pulled away leaving Sydney behind wondering why Kay had never mentioned Blithe. She disarmed the alarm on the Lexus and popped open the trunk to put her briefcase and laptop in. On the way home she called Kay again to see if she needed anything before she drove to the uptown apartment they shared. Grace had been after Sydney to buy a house, but she'd resisted not yet ready to admit Kay was the one.

Why can't you stop asking what else is there, counselor? The voice in her head asked. Whenever she had time to herself, Sydney crossed examined the part of her brain that had perpetual cold feet in making the final plunge into commitment. Your mother hasn't put the screws to you so it must mean, like you, she doesn't think Kay's the one. "Maybe it's time to take Kay somewhere and try to regain those feelings that we seem to keep putting off for career and other commitments." Sydney addressed the empty car when the answering machine at home picked up instead of Kay.

"Where've you been?"

"Are you questioning me, District Attorney O'Shea?" Kay walked passed the chair Sydney was sitting in smoking a cigar. "I told you I was working."

"It's not smart to keep your phone off when you're working."

"Your honor, I think the prosecution's being hostile."

"I'm just curious, Kay, or am I not allowed to ask what's keeping you busy these days and nights you disappear on me?"

Kay turned on the lamp next to the chair and looked at the casual outfit Sydney had on. Sweat pants and a t-shirt replaced the usual pressed expensive suits. Kay was curious herself when she had stopped finding such a gorgeous creature attractive.

"Not when you ask it in a tone that infers I'm doing something wrong. Now how about we get naked and go to bed, it's late."

"I would think you've had enough for one night."

The statement was delivered with Sydney's usual calm tone of voice. The same tone she used in the courtroom when she had a fist full of your short hairs and was getting ready to start pulling just for the pleasure of hearing you scream. It made Kay stop moving toward the bedroom and clench her fists. Had she been facing Sydney, the attorney would have seen her pale.

"What in the fuck's that suppose to mean?"

"That you should put on pajamas and go to bed, darling. All this working you've been doing has to tire you out." Kay did turn after hearing the answer, taking a scalpel to it to see if she could dissect an accusation out of it.

"I'm never too tired for you."

"I have to work, Kay, go to bed. In the light of day maybe you can tell me what's got you so spooked by a few questions. Vulgar answers were never in your repertoire before, must be a fascinating subject your working." Sydney couldn't help herself. She pushed Kay a little further knowing now something was wrong. The only time Kay lashed out was when she felt trapped by something she wasn't saying.

"Good night, Sydney."

"One more thing."

"What? I'm tired."

"I ran into a friend of yours today. Or should I say her son ran into me."

Kay looked at the ceiling and fought the feeling of wanting to run out of the room. How did Sydney know Blithe was a friend of hers? "Really, who?"

"Blithe Thompson and her son Charlie. Ring any bells?"

"Of course, excuse me." Kay left after that not wanting to sound any more suspicious than she had already made herself sound. She would have to call Blithe in the morning and find out how the legal genius had figured it out. Looking toward the den one more time, Kay saw Sydney blow a smoke ring in her direction and smile. "Fuck me, she knows." Sydney's smile got bigger when Kay's lips moved mumbling something to herself before she turned and walked toward their bedroom down the hall.

"You fucking told her you knew me?"

"Kay, what do you think she would've thought had she found out later? Sydney seems like a nice person and Charlie hasn't stopped talking about her all morning. I'm not going to seduce her so you can keep the condo and the car, but I wouldn't mind being her friend. Count me out of your plans, I don't want any part of it." Blithe packed a lunch for her and her son in preparation of heading out to the park to play. The Saturday outings weren't her favorites but the social worker would try anything to get the shy Charlie to come out of his shell.

"Blithe, you screw me and I'll make sure your life becomes a nightmare. Don't think of going to Sydney with this."

"Going to Sydney with what?" asked the subject of the conversation from behind Kay.

On Kay's end she almost smashed the phone into Sydney's face after the woman scared her. The black Lexus had driven away, she had seen it, since it was what she was waiting for to dial Blithe's number.

"What in the fuck is the matter with you?" Kay screamed as she disconnected the line.

"When did the word fuck become your favorite?" countered Sydney.

"I just saw you drive away to the office."

"And I forgot something, I didn't realize it was an offense to return for something once you've left the house. Just like I didn't know it was wrong to inquire about why someone's talking about me when they think I'm not here."

"Sydney, if you want to accuse me of something, spit it out. And you don't own me so my vocabulary is my concern. Try and remember that."

Not in the mood to fight with Kay, Sydney turned and walked to her study. The files she had downloaded the night before were on the disk that sat at one corner of the desk. The two attorneys that would be helping her with the upcoming capital case were waiting for her at the office. That morning she had left Kay sleeping when she got up to shower and get dressed. After the conversation the night before she wasn't anxious to think too much about what was taking up Kay's time. The subject wasn't going to be forgotten, but Sydney didn't have time to think about more than one crisis at a time.

"Wait, Sydney. You just walk out all the time. Don't you think we need to talk?"

"What would you like to talk about? If it's this irrational anger you pull out every time I ask you a question, then I'm all ears. If not, I have somewhere to be."

Kay knew if she let her lover walk out the door it would only add to the gulf that was building between them. Had she known how hard it was to juggle her emotions between a live in lover and a part time one, she would have been content to admire Matt from across the room the night they met. The sex was incredible, but the man gave new meaning to the term starving artist. With Sydney, the attorney was predictable between the sheets, but there was the security her bank account provided.

"If you put as much priority on us as you do to the scum of this city, we'd be the happiest couple in the country."

"Really? So this is all my fault because I work too much, is that it?"

The opening she was looking for came and Kay took it. If she couldn't count on Blithe to even the score then the next best thing was guilt. "Yes, Sydney. If you came alive here the same way you do for the juries you pick, we wouldn't be having these problems. I never know when you'll have the time to spare for just me."

"You know where I am all the time, Kay. I'm just a phone call away and my nights are spent here, waiting for you lately it seems. All these secret stories you're working on sound so trite when I read them in the paper. Your last story was on how wearing white after Labor Day was now acceptable. What about that took four nights of research? Is there some underground group waiting to kill people who dare wear the color after the first Monday in September? I'm busy, sweetheart, not brain dead. If you want to look for someone to blame for what's happening or not happening at this address, take the day and ponder what you're doing wrong." Before Kay could dispute the allegations, the back door had slammed behind Sydney. At the beginning of their relationship the attorney wouldn't have made it to the corner before turning the car around and coming back to smooth things over. Today Kay watched as the Lexus drove down the streets without the brake lights coming on once.

"I'm not so easy to get rid of, Sydney."

The drive downtown gave Sydney time to think. Had she settled for Kay because she had grown tired of the dating scene and the small blonde had been the easiest solution to that? If she had, she was paying the consequences now for that laziness. It should have been her first clue that losing the two-year relationship wasn't upsetting her.

Stopping for a traffic light, Sydney looked to her left and saw the playground Blithe had mentioned the night before. The petite blonde was standing in the standard swing pushing position talking to the husky man next to her. Charlie had been right, the kid next to him was going much higher than he was. On impulse, Sydney turned and parked the car.

Blithe didn't see her as she walked up from the rear entrance to the park. When Sydney got closer she noticed Charlie was right about something else, she was taller than Gabriel's father. The first smile of her morning came when with one good push Charlie shot a little higher than all the other swings, which was met with a heartfelt laugh from the toddler.

"He's been moping around all morning waiting for you to show up. Thanks for not disappointing him." Blithe moved to stand a little behind Sydney so as not to get clipped by the swing now flying over her head on Charlie's return trips.

"I'm a public servant, ma'am. I just drove by and saw some public in need of serving." The joke got Blithe to smile, which went unnoticed by Sydney who had turned her attention back to Charlie.

The tall expert swing pusher was like a dream come true for Charlie. He had to ask her to stop instead of her getting tired. When she lifted him out of the bucket seat Charlie hugged her leg before leading her and his mother over to one of the benches.

"Hey, Charlie, how'd I do?"

"That was great, Cai. Would you play with me?"

"Don't you want to play with your friends?"

Blithe butted into their talk before Charlie started stuttering from nerves. "Charlie's working on winning these guys over. Right, Charlie?" The little boy looked toward the jungle gym before looking at Sydney and nodding. In every generation there was one kid the others took pleasure in picking on. For these set of three-year-olds it was Charlie. The nervous speech impediment had been what had set him apart.

"You know something, Charlie?" asked Sydney.

"Wha..wha…what?"

"The other thing I'm pretty good at is pulling the merry go round." Sydney pointed toward the empty piece of playground equipment. She just hoped she could get some traction going with loafers on. "Want to go and give it a try?" He held his arms up as his answer and smiled from his new high perch on the trip over.

"Not too fast, I get motion sickness." Blithe warned as she sat in the middle holding her son. The look she got from Sydney was like the gauntlet of challenge being thrown down. "I mean it. You aren't going to like it if I throw up on that nice cable knit sweater and the chinos with the creases from hell." Sydney rubbed her hands together before grabbing onto the bar and started a slow trot. The scream Blithe let out when she really sped up made everyone in the park look over just in time to see Sydney jump on with them.

"Are you ok?" Sydney was starting to feel the cool air through her shirt when she'd had to strip off her sweater. She didn't think the blonde was serious about getting sick. The one good thing was that Charlie hadn't gotten caught in the return of Blithe's pancakes from that morning.

"Sorry about your sweater."

"It's not like you didn't warn me. Either that or you and Charlie have something against someone with a neat appearance. You aren't looking too good. You want to lie down?"

Sydney buckled Charlie into his seat and Blithe into the passenger side of the van before driving them to her office. An hour later Charlie was sitting on Sydney's desk coloring while his mother took a nap on the leather couch at the back of the room. The attorney would look up from her work to smile at Charlie every so often liking the company of the quiet child. Blithe slept through the pizza the other attorneys ordered for lunch, but Charlie soaked up the attention the adults doled out without hesitation.

At two, Blithe woke up to a strategy session that concentrated on anticipating all the motions the defense would most probably file. The sight of a sleeping Charlie in Sydney's lap made her smile more than the picture now hanging off the attorney's filing cabinet. She sat still listening to Sydney call out case numbers from memory complete with where in the file the assistants would find the arguments needed. The quick mind was the downfall of more than one defendant when they reached the trial stage.

It wouldn't be the last time Blithe spent the afternoon in Sydney's office so Charlie could spend time with his new best friend. The friendship between the adult and child grew as the weather grew colder, and Blithe couldn't help but get swept away by Sydney's generous nature. Nothing romantic had grown between them, and the social worker wasn't going to encourage anything for fear that Kay would use it against Sydney. The problem now was too much time had gone by for Blithe to confess what Kay had asked her to do, less Sydney shut her and Charlie out of her life.

Sydney never talked about Kay during their Saturdays or during the nights they took Charlie to dinner. A few calls from Kay let Blithe know she was still in the house but Sydney was growing more suspicious. The itch as Kay had put it, had grown into a full-grown obsession, and no request from Matt was refused. The more that happened, the more distant Sydney became.

"How about hamburgers tonight, Charlie? Think we can talk your mother into that?" Sydney looked at the little boy sitting at the small desk next to hers that Sally had found and set up for him. Blithe sat on the sofa finishing the mound of paperwork that had accumulated from the fieldwork she'd done. With Sydney not minding sitting with Charlie during some of her confirmed afternoon office hours, Blithe had been able to take on a larger caseload. She was saving for a new van since Sydney had shied away from the current vehicle after the lollipop incident.

Charlie nodded his head, which wasn't surprising since he was agreeable to anything Sydney suggested. After five Saturdays on the playground he was the envy of the other children with his non-tiring playmate. "Sounds good, Cai. How about you, mama, sound good?"

"Are you letting me pay?" Blithe asked Sydney.

"No."

"Then I'm not going."

"Not even if I asked you real nice?"

"No, I'm not going unless you let me pay. I don't want you to think Charlie and I are freeloading off of you."

"It's not freeloading if I ask you to go. Isn't that what you told me before you bamboozled me into a ride so you could stick old candy on my suit pants?"

"That was different."

"How do you figure?"

"I wasn't asking you to dinner and I offered to have the pants cleaned."

"You offered to take me to dinner and did you know bubblelicious lollipops tear fabric when you try to pull them off of fine wool?"

"They didn't, did they?"

"They did, but they made the most attractive shorts I own. Only if I try to wear them in the summer I'll die of heat exhaustion, so, my lovely friend, you owe it to me to take you and my little buddy out to dinner."

"Since I ruined your pants, it's the least I can do," said Blithe blushing at the compliment.

"That's better then. Pack it in, buddy, I'm tired of looking at these walls."

The case she was working on was finished and Sydney wasn't going to miss working for the next two weekends. Her parents' anniversary party was the next Saturday, and the whole family was going up on Friday afternoon. The summer home the elder O'Sheas had purchased ten years prior was going to be the location for the family reunion and Sydney was looking forward to some down time on the beach and on the golf course. Grace had picked Biloxi, Mississippi as the second home's location claiming the two hour drive was far enough away to leave job stresses behind, but not too far to make it a pain in the ass to get to.

"Doesn't this look cozy." Kay stepped in with out knocking wanting to see if Sydney was free for dinner. She had given the attorney long enough to calm down and now it was time to reel her back in.

"Hey, Kay, it's nice to see you again." Blithe stood up and put her shoes back on.

"Blithe," said Kay without any further greeting.

Charlie didn't know who the lady was but she was making his mom sad. "Ca..Ca..Cai, can we g..g..g..go?"

"Sure, buddy, can you and your mom give me and minute? Blithe, why don't you and Charlie go sit at Sally's desk and I'll be right out. She has some M&M's out there special just for Charlie." Sydney picked up Charlie's bag and handed it to Blithe then closed the door to her office.

"I thought I'd come to the mountain since you're never home anymore." Kay sat on the corner of Sydney's desk and crossed her arms.

"Pining away for me at home were you? Funny, if you missed me so much you should have returned my calls. There were five today alone."

Kay smiled thinking the cold shoulder she'd given her partner was working, and finding her with Blithe was an extra-added bonus. "Did you miss me, darling?"

"The dealership called, it's time to service the car and they couldn't get in touch with you. But now that you're here, I'd like you to set aside some time for us to talk. Things can't go on like this, Kay. Life's too short to be this miserable."

The small blonde exploded off the desk and stuck a finger in Sydney's chest. "Funny you weren't so miserable with me before you started fucking your new little whore."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on, Sydney, little Blithe with her pathetic little kid. Tell me you're not fucking her."

"Get out."

"I'm not done. God, I led you to water and like the predictable ass that you are, you helped yourself. So much for all those principles you love to go on about."

"I don't think you heard me. Get out." Sydney moved closer to her and Kay took a step back. "Get your screwed up ideas and get the hell out of my office. You may think a good offense is to become defensive, Kay, but don't push me. Since you like the word so much, I'll fucking make your life miserable if you ever talk about Blithe and Charlie like that again. They're my friends, so don't cheapen that with your twisted fantasies."

Sydney grabbed her briefcase and chose to leave instead. Two anxious faces looked up when she opened the door and she smiled to make them feel more at ease. The frosted glass panel wasn't the best sound barrier when she raised her voice. Anything Kay had said was forgotten when she saw Charlie's lip start to tremble. That night was the first time in weeks Sydney had heard him stutter. Going down on one knee, Sydney opened her arms and scooped the child up when he ran into them.

"Sorry about that, little buddy. I didn't mean to yell." Sydney spoke quietly to the child in her arms but looked at his mother as a way of apologizing to her as well for what was said.

"You're not going to be our friend anymore? I promise t..t..t…to try be…better, Cai."

"Oh, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong. Take a deep breath for me. I love being your friend, Charlie, don't ever think differently."

"Pinkie swear?" He held up his little finger the way Sydney had taught him, getting his mother to smile. Unlike Charlie, she'd understood the whole argument in Sydney's office. The attorney put up her finger and Charlie wrapped all of his around it and shook.

"That's a binding contract, buddy."

Charlie took a nap in the new child's safety seat in the back of Sydney's car. Blithe had insisted on the large towel it sat on, saying it would take her getting a second job if something happened to the leather seats. They headed to a restaurant Sydney frequented in college, and the word joint popped into Blithe's head when the attorney shifted the car into park.

"I can smooth it over with Charlie if we're causing you too many problems." Blithe kept her head forward and tried to sound sincere. If the only way she could have Sydney in her life was as a friend she'd take it, but not at the expense of the prosecutor's piece of mind.

"I don't think I could come up with a suitable explanation for not seeing Charlie again and it's what I do for a living. Unless you think I'm doing him and you more harm by being in your life."

"No, you've found the little boy I knew was always trapped in there. I was only trying to do the right thing."

"You really have got to stop doing that. Think of yourself for once and go after the things or the person that's going to make you happy."

If only you meant that, thought Blithe as she put on a forced smile and nodded her head. "I have to tell you that I'm pretty happy with my life now."

"Blithe, I can't promise you and Charlie anything until I've cleared up the mess my life has become, but if you give me time…."

"You take all the time you need, Mordecai O'Shea, I'm not in a hurry. Don't you want an explanation on what Kay said earlier? I'm ready for my cross examination."

"I know what Kay's after, sweetheart, I don't need to hear it from you. I spend my life dealing with people who have perfected the art of lying, which has made me an excellent judge of finding the truth no matter how hard people try to hide if from me. Charlie and you can't hide what you two are, just like you can't fake your feelings because it would go against your true nature. Mine is to bring the best person I can into a relationship and give the person I'm with the honor of my word backed by my actions."

"I can't ask for more than that, and if you want the truth from me just ask."

Sydney opened the backdoor and released Charlie from his seat. The restaurant's looks didn't detract diners from filling up most of the tables and the entire bar section. Fabulous aromas were coming from the kitchen and Blithe was sure there was an inch of grease on the walls, but she trusted Sydney's judgment. They seldom ate at the same place twice and all the places they'd tried had been kid friendly, so what was a little food poisoning if Charlie was comfortable.

"I know what you're thinking and I promise the oil they fry everything in is hot enough to kill the black plague."

"Comforting thought, counselor."

"Mordecai, is that you with a little Mordecai?" The booming voice was coming from a table toward the back where a big man sat with a young child. Next to them was a table of four men who watched the door and the other patrons but didn't have any food in front of them. The thing that made them seem out of place was they were all wearing suits.

"Vincent, don't tell me you've gone and taken the plunge? I thought I would've heard a wail coming from the eligible women in the city the day that happened." Sydney told him when they moved closer.

"Mordecai, meet my little sister, Alicia Carlotti. Alicia's named for my father's mother."

The elder Carlotti had lost his wife five years prior in a car accident and had taken another trip down the aisle two years later with a woman that was younger than his daughter. Sydney hadn't realized the union had produced more children. Vincent Carlotti III and she had gone to school together from high school onto to college. The future head of the Carlotti crime family was smarter than his father, which made Sydney think he would no more get caught by the feds than the old man.

"Vinny, this is Blithe and her son Charlie. Blithe, this bum is Vincent Carlotti an old school pal of mine." Blithe looked at her after the introduction and thought Sydney had lost her mind. Unless there were a lot of other people running around the city named Vincent Carlotti, they were talking to a gangster.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. Don't worry, the feds outside only start looking into your background if you're seen with me more than two times in a row," joked Vinny.

"I'm glad you have a sense of humor about it."

"You get so used to those guys you start to forget they're there sometimes, only sometimes though. You heard about the old man?" Vinny asked of Sydney.

"Dodged another bullet is the story on the street. Tell him to stick to the feds, Vinny, he shows up on my doorstep I'm not going to be so nice."

"It's the one thing he thanks God for every night, that you decided to stay making the chump change down at the zoo on Tulane working for Gilbert. The day they put federal in front of that prosecutor's title of yours and stripes might be a new family look for us." Vinny signaled one of the guards who brought over three more chairs. Sydney waited for Blithe's nod before sitting down.

"Flattery will get you no favors if the day should come, Vinny. Tell me about this little beauty."

"Alicia's dad's final masterpiece as he likes to say. This beautiful girl as you put it, is what makes him want to get out of bed some mornings. It's my job to take her out to dinner every so often so she can learn what it's like to be a Carlotti. Not to mention she has me wrapped around her little finger. I'm having so much fun I might just find a girl and have a couple of my own."

"Don't teach her too much. I'm glad you're father's happy. Despite his colorful past, I always liked him. I used to smile in law school when we studied old case files and his name came up over and over again. Made me feel like I'd grown up with someone famous. The media missed the boat passing out the name ‘The Teflon Don' too late. Gotti beat three convictions to your father's five."

"He's going to be sorry he missed being here tonight to listen to you say that. I'm not just blowing smoke, Mordecai, he really likes you. You three go ahead and order while Alicia and I go and pick out some stuff on the jukebox."

"I thought only your mother got to call you Mordecai?" Blithe looked over the menu written in grease pen on the wall and tried to sound miffed.

"If you're in the family business that has a tendency to kill people, I don't have a problem with whatever they want to call me."

"So he's that Vincent Carlotti."

"Yes, and his father's even more of that Vincent Carlotti than Vinny is. Vinny's just learning, his father's committed more sins than Al Capone and then some."

"You're one fascinating character, Mordecai." Blithe looked at her and arched a blonde brow daring Sydney to fuss at her for using her given name.

"I'm glad you think so, Ms. Thompson. Might I suggest the swamp burger, it's the best thing up there."

They ate as Vinny told Blithe about some of their more risqué adventures on campus when they were in college. At one point Blithe laughed so hard that coke shot out of her nose making the social worker turn red from the blush it caused. She waved good bye to Vinny and his little sister when they all got up to leave and laughed again when Sydney waved to some of the agents that were sitting across the street watching the activity around the cars getting ready to depart.

Sydney pulled up to Blithe and Charlie's house promising to come back in the morning to drive Blithe to her van that was still in the courthouse parking lot. "I wanted to ask you something before you two went in. You don't have to answer now, but I'd like you and Charlie to come with me next weekend to my parents' anniversary party. We could stay the weekend if you like or we could just go for the Saturday night party and come back."

Blithe just looked at Sydney like the attorney had asked her to walk naked down Canal Street at noon. In all the time they'd known each other, the young mother had not met any of the members of Sydney's family. The only time Sydney had ever rescheduled time with her and Charlie was when a last minute dinner invitation had come from Grace. But not ever meeting them and not knowing who they were was ludicrous.

"Are you sure?"

"That it's my mom and dad's anniversary?"

Blithe hit her in the arm to make Sydney get serious. "No, that you want me and Charlie to go with you?"

Sydney thought she understood some of the hesitation and for the first time put her palm against Blithe's cheek. "You're a beautiful woman, Blithe, you should know that without me telling you. If you don't want to go because you have other commitments I'll understand, but don't turn me down because you feel like you aren't good enough or you won't fit in."

"Thank you for saying that, I didn't think you were interested in anything besides spending time with Charlie. Not that that's a bad thing."

"I'm sorry I gave you that impression, I love Charlie, but I've noticed his mother too. You promised me time to get my affairs in order. Not that we're having an affair but you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. And you'll help me by telling me what I'll need to bring, right?"

"I'll do something even better."

Blithe waited for Sydney to go on but the attorney just stopped talking but hadn't removed her hand from her cheek. "What?"

"Go to bed, Blithe, and take the shrimp with you. What I said will make sense to you tomorrow."

Sydney pulled into her own driveway after seeing her friends inside their house for the evening. She sat in the car for ten minutes trying to calm her emotions down when she saw Kay's car in its designated spot.

The clank of Sydney's keys on the kitchen counter brought Kay to her feet in the living room. The fight she'd started at the DA's office was now, she realized, pushing Sydney too far. With a few glasses of wine for company, she'd practiced her apology since she'd gotten home. The silk nightgown wasn't lost on Sydney when she walked into the room; unfortunately for Kay it was too late for reconciliation.

"The apartment lease is in your name so keep it if you want, same goes for the car. The movers are coming in the morning for my grandfather's desk in the study along with the bookcases and cabinets in there that belong to me. The rest you can keep." Sydney moved to the study and bolted the lock she'd had installed knowing what Kay's temper was capable of.

"It's not that easy, Sydney."

"Sure it is. This isn't a divorce, Kay, it's a break up of something we both don't want anymore. I would've loved to have parted as friends but I don't like you all that much at the moment."

"Who takes care of me now?"

"The same person who put the hickey on your neck, lover. If that wasn't a rhetorical question, my answer is I don't care."

"So it's all right for you to run around and screw some pretty thing, but when I do it I get tossed aside. Is that how it works with the high and mighty O'Sheas?"

"I'm not sleeping with Blithe, if that's what you're implying. You wanted me in a committed relationship and that's what you got, Kay. The one that stepped out on that arrangement was you, not me." Sydney moved to the bar and poured herself a scotch from one of the decanters.

"Please, Sydney, I asked her to come on to you so I'd have some leverage if the need should arise."

"Smart of you to do that. Always be prepared, eh? You must have been one hell of a scout."

Kay laughed despite the rising anger that was taking over her reason. "So you're telling me you fell for the act? The kid was a nice touch the first time she ran into you. I'd just gotten off the phone with her, so you're being there playing the caped crusader couldn't have been better timing."

"I live to please, but that's not important now. What you're saying is you did all this for me because you love me? You cheated so I should be given the same opportunity. I must say your sense of fair play boggles the mind."

It was Sydney's calm demeanor that drove the reporter insane. No matter what the situation Sydney could be counted on to keep a cool head. When the attorney sat in one of the wingback leather chairs in the room and crossed her legs, Kay had the urge to rip Sydney's eyes out. The yelling she'd gotten earlier had surprised Kay but this was the Mordecai she knew, the persona known in the courtroom as Ice.

"I do love you." Kay stopped when Sydney put up a finger.

"You love the money more. Sad thing here is, it's my money, so when I go it goes with me. If you wanted to keep the money and me, you should have kept your panties on. You're going to blame me I'm sure, but take it from someone who knows guilt, Kay. You're guilty. In court it wouldn't have been hard to prove."

"I'm guilty of what, you bitch?"

"Greed." Sydney put her glass down and stood up. She had wasted enough time playing games with Kay. Looking at the reporter now, there wasn't anything that remotely reminded Sydney of what had attracted her to the woman in the beginning.

"Does it matter to you at all that I planned Blithe coming into your life?"

"Yes, congratulations, your plan worked beautifully." Sydney heard the scream and the shattering of the heavy crystal glass against the door when she stepped outside. It was done.

"Sydney, George's on line one. Said he's returning your call." Sally told her from the outer office.

"Hey, George."

"Should I have a pad and pen ready?"

"You know me so well," Sydney told her accountant and financial manager. "Have Kay's cards cancelled as soon as possible and review all the financial contracts and make sure that our name doesn't appear together on anything. Then cut her a check for twenty five thousand dollars and deposit it in her account. By the time she's run through that she'll be on her own."

"It'll be done within the hour. Should I send a letter with the money?"

"No, I think we covered all the bases last night. If you need me I'll be at mom and dad's until I go house hunting. Thanks, George."

"Sydney, Blithe's holding on line two for you." Sally put the call through as soon as the top line light blinked off.

"Do you know someone named Grace O'Shea?"

"Will I be in trouble if my answer's yes?"

"She just called me and said she'd be by at ten to take me shopping. It seems that someone forgot to tell me that we're attending a formal dinner on Friday night and a costume party on Saturday. Mrs. O'Shea offered to help me pick something out."

"My mother offered to shop for you?"

"That answers the question on if you know her, and yes she did."

"Stay out of the engagement rings section of whatever store Herbert drives you to."

"She didn't say anything about bringing someone named Herbert. I thought you said your father's name was William? Who names their child Herbert?" Blithe was babbling since she was a little overwhelmed with the morning.

"The same people that think Mordecai was a good choice, and no he's not my father. The other thing is she isn't bringing him. It's more like he's bringing her. Herbert's my mother's driver, God bless his soul."

"Your mother has a driver?" Blithe sat on her sofa and felt like if she'd been an adult in the sixties and taken acid this would definitely qualify as one of those flashbacks the authorities always warned you about.

"Let me explain something about Gracelia O'Shea. She's barely five feet, has flaming red hair, which makes no sense since my father is the Irishman and she's Italian, and she doesn't drive. She's never had the inclination nor the desire to learn, so my father hired a driver. Herbert has been her faithful traveling companion for forty years and if my mother got some wild hair up her butt to learn now I think it'd break his heart. The most important lesson you must always remember when you spend any time with Grace is don't believe anything she tells you about me. The woman got married on Halloween night, that's always made me question her sanity."

"She told me you're quite the catch and she does all your shopping. As a matter a fact she said the last time you were in a mall, Gerald Ford was president."

"How long did she keep you on the phone?"

"Never mind about that. Do you want me to find a sitter for Charlie for this weekend?"

"Did you tell Grace about Charlie?"

"I thought I'd ask you first about the sitter." Blithe got up when she heard the front bell. The walk and talking to Sydney on the phone was taking her mind off her nails which she'd been chewing since the woman from her first call of the morning had introduced herself. "Hold on, someone's at the front door."

"Hello, dear, is that Mordecai on the phone?" Grace walked in and took off her gloves.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, dear, call me Grace. May I please have the phone?" Blithe handed the phone to the short attractive woman in her living room trying to take a discreet look at her watch. Grace had said she'd be there at ten and unless she'd slipped into a coma, Blithe was sure it was before nine. Now she looked like an idiot standing there in her pajamas.

"Mordecai?"

"Yes, mother?"

"Unless you're in the process of putting some dreadful person in jail. I expect you over here in thirty minutes to make proper introductions and take Blithe and me out to breakfast." Grace pressed the off button and handed the phone back to Blithe. "Now, dear, before the grumpy one gets here and turns you against me, I'm Grace O'Shea."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am, I'm Blithe Thompson. Would you like to make yourself comfortable while I go and change? If Sydney's going to be here in a half an hour I'd rather not look like something the cat threw up."

"Nonsense, it's good to keep Mordecai waiting. She's like her father like that, the longer the wait the better they think the prize is. And please, dear, don't call her Sydney."

"You don't like the name Sydney?"

"I named her Sydney, so I'm not opposed to it, but her family calls her Mordecai. It's a status symbol if you like."

"I'm not a part of Sydney's family."

"Blithe, she's talked more about you than she did the red bike she wanted when she was seven. I've always judged how excited she is about someone or something against how much she wanted that bike. You, she hasn't shut up about for six weeks. Funny thing is, I don't think she realizes she's doing it."

Blithe blushed thinking about Sydney talking to her mother about her. Not just Charlie, but her. "She didn't tell me."

"You're smart, Blithe, you've won her heart without the genius figuring it out. That bloodsucker she's lived with for too long did it with just the physical aspect of their relationship, if I can speak frankly. I never have seen the look of adoration that comes over her face when she talks about you and your son when she talked about her." Grace couldn't bring herself to say Kay's name. "Don't worry about Mordecai now; I'll help you wrap up the rest of the package. So where is Charlie, I'm dying to meet him."

Blithe walked her to the little boy's room where he was still sleeping after being up late from the excitement of the upcoming trip with his beloved Cai. His mother didn't understand Grace's tears when the tiny woman sat on the edge of his bed and pushed a strand of hair off his face. From her designer purse Grace pulled her wallet out and turned to a picture of Mordecai when she was the same age as Charlie was now. To Blithe's amazement the faces were almost identical.

"You carry baby pictures of Mordecai around with you?" Blithe whispered looking at the photo Grace had handed her smiling at the beautiful little face captured on the glossy finish.

"I know what she looks like now. I like to remember them when they weren't such a pain in my ass." Blithe decided then that no matter what happened with Sydney, she and Grace were going to be great friends.

Sydney walked in earlier than she was expected and sat in the kitchen to wait with Herbert. She figured Grace was somewhere in the house with Blithe telling her, Sydney was sure, some story or another about her younger formative years. The escape from her office was welcome after fielding a dozen calls from Kay that morning. She was demanding another meeting with Sydney at their apartment and was going to keep calling until the attorney caved. From experience Sydney could tell she was pissed, like a child that had been deprived of their favorite toy. And to think she hadn't gone out and try to buy something, thought Sydney.

Buy something with the cards that Kay had treated like play money since the bills went directly to Sydney's accountant. Sydney had never been interested in what Kay did with them but after George's report from that morning she should have kept better tabs on her live-in's spending. The prosecutor was almost tempted to meet with Kay again to demand all the art her money had bought over the last six months. None of which was hanging in the apartment.

The temptation and anger died when Blithe and her mother walked into the kitchen laughing and making a fuss over Charlie. Sydney smiled when she realized she could move on with her life and if she was lucky this woman her mother was joking with would be willing to share it with her.

"Good morning. Did you heed my warning?" asked Sydney.

"About?" Blithe answered as she combed Charlie's hair back as he tried to squirm out of her arms to get to Sydney.

"Listening to this woman you so readily let into your house."

"Mordecai, behave or I'll have Herbert turn you over his knee." The older gentleman laughed at his boss's suggestion knowing if he tried Sydney would wipe the floor with him. "I had to introduce myself, since you were late, but don't worry, we've been having a delightful time."

Sydney got up from the table so that she could give her mother a kiss. "Thank you for coming over, mama."

"Come on, Charlie, show me where your coat is and then your Cai's taking us out to eat." Grace led the child and her driver out of the kitchen leaving the two young women alone.

"You look nice." Blithe took in the dark suit, perfectly cut for Sydney and felt almost frumpy in her presence.

"Thank you, you look beautiful this morning, but instead of talking about the merits of why I think so, I want to talk about something with you for a minute. I promise tonight we'll take as long as you want, but knowing Grace we have five minutes tops before she gets restless."

"You've changed your mind?"

"About you and Charlie?" Blithe nodded yes. "No, I just wanted to tell you I left Kay last night."

"Because of me?"

"No, because of me. I expect certain things from the woman I love, Blithe, and I discovered two things about myself last night."

Blithe couldn't help it, she moved closer to Sydney wanting to know what her hands felt like. "What was that?"

"That Kay isn't the woman I'm in love with, I don't think I ever was, and I don't think I have to expect anything if I choose the woman I am in love with. That's because I think she'll give without me asking for the things that I think she wants from me in return."

"What do you think I want?" Blithe took the chance that it was she Sydney was talking about.

"To be loved, to have me come home to you and Charlie, to share my thoughts with you and to never have to worry if I'm sleeping with someone else."

"You're right."

"That's what I want too."

"And that's what you'll get, for as long as you want it."

The motley crew filed out of the house with Sydney bringing up the rear. Her mother was holding Charlie's hand and from the look on his face, the little boy was becoming quickly won over by the elder O'Shea. Sydney was sure if Grace could get away with it, the attorney would be drawing up adoption papers over brunch.

"Mordecai."

Sydney took Blithe's hand when the blonde got a look at her mother's car. Grace's world was about as far removed from the social worker's as you could get and still live in the state. "Yes, mother?"

"Whose van is that?" Blithe blushed at the sight of the maroon and white jalopy sitting in her drive way. It was two toned only because much of the dark red paint had started to flake off. Grace turned to the two women and noticed Blithe's condition. "Don't be embarrassed, dear, my husband says I'm a bull in the china shop of life all the time. I just can't have my Charlie riding around in something that looks so unsafe. Mordecai, I trust you'll handle this today."

"Yes, mother."

"Would this be a good time to ask if I can say no?" Blithe looked up at Sydney wondering when she'd lost control of what used to be her life.

"You could, but she has your phone number and address now."

"Meaning?"

"That you can deal with me or the Italian Stallion, your choice. All I can say is, I'm much more amenable to suggestion than Grace." Thus began the initiation of Blithe and Charlie into the O'Shea clan. By lunch time the two had the entire new wardrobe they would need for the weekend except for the Halloween costumes for the Saturday night party, which Grace left up to the Thompson's to pick out.

Blithe got all of her work done by Thursday afternoon so that she and Charlie would be ready to leave the next morning. The only disappointment was Sydney, or Mordecai as she'd come to refer to her, wouldn't be able to leave with them. Blithe had offered to wait but when Grace found out, she informed the young woman she and her husband William would be by at ten to drive them down. Her argument had been that just because Mordecai was chained to her job didn't mean Blithe and Charlie should suffer for it. The explanation made more sense when they drove through the gates of what Grace kept referring to as their small summer home.

A deep lawn with a huge collection of oak trees obscured the house from the road that separated it from the Gulf of Mexico. The eight-bedroom home was a beautiful example of an antebellum style structure with a large porch that wrapped around much of the house with a matching veranda on the second floor. Blithe counted at least twenty matching rockers, which made her suddenly crave a mint julep. William explained that in the backyard Grace had put in a pool for those that didn't care for the beach, and the seventeenth green of the country club's golf course was about twenty yards from their property line.

"I'll have Sylvia put you and Charlie in the room adjacent to Mordecai's, dear. Why don't you take some time to take a rest and freshen up before the mob gets here. That drive up here can be tiring. Please relax and don't hesitate to ask us if you need anything." Grace walked up the steps to the front door using her hands to accentuate what she was saying.

Blithe hung onto Charlie so he wouldn't break anything in the house she was sure was stocked with valuables if the one in New Orleans was any indication. After two dinners there that week with Mordecai, Blithe was starting to relax around Grace and William. Except for things like the new Sequoia that had been delivered to Blithe's driveway, the O'Shea's didn't flaunt their wealth, or make her feel any less because she wasn't in their tax bracket.

"Thank you, Grace."

"Charlie boy, get in a good nap because we're playing golf tomorrow." William, Mordecai's father, told the child that was trying to pull out of his mother's death grip. The patriarch of the O'Shea family was taller than all his children, but they had all inherited his looks. Jet-black hair that was graying at the temples, blue eyes and a big sturdy build made for an overall attractive looking man.

Charlie watched as Herbert took out a big golf bag from the trunk first before retrieving a smaller version to put beside it. The small but very real clubs had been a gift for Charlie from William. The shipping giant was a fanatical fan of the game and liked to encourage new players along whenever he got the opportunity. All Charlie had needed to hear was game and the fact they wanted him to play. In the morning William would give the little boy the rest of his surprises, including the smallest golf cleats he'd ever seen.

At three in the afternoon a caravan of cars came up the winding bricked drive, the lead one blowing the horn to announce the arrival of the O'Shea boys. All three worked for the family business and the two oldest boys had gotten married, leaving Mordecai and the baby Franklin as the only eligible ones in the bunch.

"Blithe and Charlie, I want you to meet the rest of our family." Grace had them line up out by the pool when the blonde and her son had come downstairs to investigate what all the noise was about. "This is our eldest son and his wife, William and Nicole. Just call him Will so as to not confuse him with his father. Next to them are John and his wife Stella. The forlorn looking one on the end is Franklin, my baby." Grace pointed to each person as she went along giving them a chance to shake Blithe's hand. "Everyone, this is Mordecai's friend Blithe and her son Charlie."

In New Orleans, Sydney put the last set of instructions for her staff on the memo she was drafting. The defendant Augustern facing an un winnable trial had chosen to plead guilty in hopes he wouldn't get the death penalty. The district attorney's office wouldn't have to go through a trial but they still had to prepare for the penalty phase. In between getting the staff their assignments, Sydney had called all of the victim's families to inform them of the latest developments. All the fears they had voiced over the telephone of the man getting off lightly had been put to rest. Sydney didn't make deals with killers; it went against everything she believed about the law and justice.

The sound of her office door opening didn't make the prosecutor turn away from her computer screen since she assumed it was Sally. "I'm not taking any calls, old woman, I don't care who it is. I'm already about four hours late."

"This won't take long, I promise." Kay stood in front of her desk with an apologetic Sally standing behind her.

"It's ok, Sally, pack it in we're leaving in a minute," Sydney said to her assistant. "Unless you're here with pertinent information for any case we're working on, I don't have time," she addressed Kay when the door closed again.

"I wanted to catch you before you went running to mother for the weekend, Mordecai. Thanks for the down payment on what you owe me. My bank statement arrived today, but it'll take more than that to buy your freedom."

"I am free, Katherine. Free to not have to see you again, free to love someone else and free to keep the rest of my money. Isn't America a great place? The deposit was so you wouldn't be homeless by the end of next month. That's the end of my obligations to you." Sydney stood and packed her briefcase signaling she would walk out when she was done.

"We'll see. One more thing, I'm thinking of taking out your gift in ten-dollar bills and spreading them on Matt's bed when I fuck him tonight. Think about that when you're sitting around Grace's big dining table this evening. Maybe finding out the truth about what I've been doing will help you face the fact that you're about as exciting between the sheets as a dead fish. You're going to be the loser in this in more ways than one."

"I'll have to try and remember that, Kay, but any sexual refreshers I may need I'm sure Blithe will help me out, if I'm lucky. On the flip side, send my luck along to whoever this Matt person is, I'm sure he's going to need it."

"Don't play the idiot, Sydney, it doesn't suit you. You've known all along since someone's been watching his studio and not being overly covert about it."

"Get your facts straight, lady, or you'll never be an investigative reporter. What in the hell do I care who you were sleeping with? The fact you were, was the relationship breaker. The outcome would've been the same had I known who it was or not. What would I gain from having this man watched? Go forth and be slutty with my blessings."

"I want and expect what's coming to me, Sydney." Kay watched Sydney put on her coat and grab her briefcase. There would be no response forthcoming to her prophetic statement.

The house was quiet when Sydney drove up. Not because she'd missed the festivities but because everyone had retired to their rooms to get ready for the family traditional anniversary dinner for her parents. Sylvia's husband Michael came and got her golf bag to put with the others but was waved off by Sydney for the rest of the bags. The older couple had come with the house and lived there full time. The only bedroom on the first floor was theirs and Grace, unlike the previous owner, gave them the run of the house even when the family was in residence. Some of the O'Shea guests through the years found it surprising to find Grace and William sitting in the den with the maid and handyman enjoying the fire and reading a book.

"Miss Grace's a little put out with you, Mordecai. You kept Miss Blithe waiting all day on you." Michael took her car keys to park it once he'd stowed the clubs.

"Miss Grace's always a little put out with me, so I've come to accept my fate. Did Blithe seem overwhelmed today?"

"Your brothers and sisters spent the afternoon talking with her and playing with Master Charlie, so she looked like she was having a good time. But I did catch her looking down the drive a few times. I like her."

"Thanks, I like her too."

Grace walked into Sydney's room, as her daughter was finishing tying off her shoelaces. The room was the last of her stops to perform the same task. Because of Charlie, Grace had added another stop to her short visits to the four she made every year on this night. The task she was there to do was her way of reaffirming her love for the four greatest and most valuable assets that had come from her thirty six year marriage to William, her children.

"Congratulations, mama." Sydney stood and hugged the petite red head and kissed her temple so as not to mess up the perfect make up.

"You were my first angel, Mordecai. The one I learned all my lessons from for the three that came after. Thank you, baby, for making my life as a parent so full and so fun. I'm proud of you and I hope with Blithe you find the same love your father and I share."

"Don't go running to the church just yet. Give me a chance to try and woo the girl into liking me." Sydney sat down so her mother could fix her bowtie. Grace went about tying the sixth perfect bow of the evening just like she had done for William, Will, John, Franklin and Charlie. When she was done she held up the jacket and brushed it off when Sydney slipped it on. With a loving pat to the chest the job was done for one more year.

"Mordecai, I say this because I love you. The girl in the next room cares deeply for you so don't screw this up."

Sydney stepped out to the veranda to find Blithe leaning against one of the pillars with her eyes closed. The strapless green silk gown she had on was covered by a matching wrap, which she held closed under her chin to ward off the cold air coming off the Gulf. The attorney stood motionless so as not to disturb the other woman. Sydney was certain she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Are you joining me, or trying to avoid me?"

"I was just admiring the gorgeous view out here."

Blithe opened her eyes and looked out toward the water across the road. As the moonlight reflected off what was visible through the trees she had to agree that it was beautiful, but when she turned around Sydney wasn't looking at the water. She was looking at her.

"Would it be all right if I kissed you?" asked Sydney.

"I've been waiting forever to hear you say that." Blithe stood up straight and opened her arms pulling the wrap away from her body. She didn't feel the cold when Sydney took her in her arms and held her close. The first kiss they shared started slow but soon grew passionate enough that Blithe felt her feet leave the ground.

Charlie's voice announcing him before he barreled through the door to join them was what parted their lips. The smile he was sporting was almost cuter than the tuxedo he was wearing thought Sydney when she looked down at him not letting go of his mother.

"Hi, buddy, are you having a good time?"

"Can we come back here when it's not cold?"

"We'll be coming here a lot if Miss Grace gets her way, and she always does. Why do you ask?"

"Uncle Will said it was too cold to swim in the pool. He said the picture guy's here too."

Sydney offered one hand to Blithe and the other to Charlie. "Then we'd better get moving."

The rest of the family was lined up along the staircase being put into position by the professional photographer that had arrived. The official yearly family portrait would join the rest of the ones hung along the stairwell walls.

"Charlie and I'll wait in the den," said Blithe when she realized what was going on.

"And have the wrath of Grace on my head, I don't think so. She invited you, Blithe, that means you and Charlie are in the photo."

"Charlie, come down here with us," instructed Grace. He wasn't tall enough to be seen over the banister if he stood with Blithe and Sydney so he would stand with her and William at the bottom. When they were done, Sydney was right; Grace always got what she wanted.

Dinner was, despite the formal attire, a casual affair with them all sitting around the largest table Blithe had ever seen. After laughing through all the funny toasts that the O'Shea siblings offered for the momentous occasion, Blithe watched William and Grace walking up the stairs with Charlie to put him to bed. She'd accepted an invitation from Sydney to sit on the porch for a drink before retiring so Blithe was glad her son was so comfortable with the anniversary couple.

"Cold?" Sydney asked Blithe as Sylvia set up two glasses of Grace's best port on the small table in between the rockers the girls had picked.

"Just a little, but it's not unbearable. Do you come here often?" Blithe nodded her thanks to Sylvia who smiled back and headed back into the house.

"Not as often as I'd like when there's some big trial on my docket, but in the summer it's nice to come and play a round then head over to the multitude of new casinos that have opened up around here. Maybe when the weather gets warmer we can bring Charlie back to try out the pool?" Sydney didn't miss the shiver the blonde let loose when she picked up her glass as she looked over to see Blithe's reaction to the timeline of the question she had asked.

"That'll give me plenty of time to go on a diet before you see me in a bathing suit, but if you asked him, Charlie would be ready to go with you now."

"I'm not a big fan of cold weather swimming and you don't need to go on a diet. You look great now." The jacket Sydney had on came off when she stood so that she could drape it over Blithe. The second her knees hit the floor in front of the blonde, the attorney said a quick prayer that it wouldn't take losing fifteen pounds on the blonde's part before she could shed her clothes in her presence.

"Mordecai, you're going to get your pants dirty."

"The way Sylvia cleans this place constantly. Impossible. I just wanted to come over here and tell you I missed you this evening."

"You've been with me all night."

"True, but if I had done this in front of my family this soon I'm thinking you would not have been too comfortable." Sydney leaned in for another kiss tasting the strong liquor that Blithe had just taken a sip of. This time there was no hesitancy and both of them turned the heat up just a notch.

Blithe ran her fingers through the straight thick hair that Sydney kept fairly short, enjoying the texture of the strands. It reminded her a lot of Charlie's hair. "I'm not sure why I'm here or why it is that you want me in your life, but I'm glad. Are you sure that you want me in your life?" She pressed her fingers to the lips she'd just kissed knowing there was a protest about to be expelled by Sydney, but Blithe had to be sure. "I'm not saying I'm doubting you, I don't want this to be some fling that'll get you over Kay. There's Charlie to consider and if I fall any further, I won't be able to imagine the pain."

"Two months ago if someone had told me that I'd come to like a child sitting on my desk most afternoons telling me the merits of finger painting and swing pushing, I would have laughed. As much as I love that relationship with Charlie though, had the same person told me I would fall in love with his mother, the joke would've been that much funnier. But here I am two months later and all that's happened. The only thing I find funny now is that for someone that makes a living stringing words together I can't find any that are adequate enough to tell you how happy you make me. Words that would get across how adorable you are when you blush, how fast you talk when you get excited about something, and how flattered I am when I see you looking at me when you think I don't notice."

Sydney kissed Blithe again before standing up and pulling the smaller woman out of her rocker. "This has nothing to do with Kay, my love, but it does have everything to do with what I feel about you. Today may be the first day I've kissed you but that doesn't mean I haven't memorized your lips and everything about you. I look at you and I see so much of my future, I want the days to come faster so I'll have just one more memory of you by my side. I look at Charlie and I see someone I can help you teach and mold so that our memories of him will only add to the pride and love we feel for him now."

"If you were any better at expressing your feelings, I would've fainted by now. Thank you for saying all that. I trust you, Mordecai, just as much as I love you. You really don't mind that Charlie comes as part of the package?"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm just asking because I lost a relationship over him even when having him was a mutual decision. I know you love him, but is that going to hold when he lives under the same roof with you and all your shirts?"

"Honey, we'll talk about all this I promise, we don't have to iron out every detail tonight." Sydney looked at the almost defeated slump that came to Blithe's shoulders. "What I mean is, when the day comes, and it will be soon, when Charlie you and all my clothes live at the same address, the fact that you two will be there will out weigh any damage to my shirts." The answer got Sydney another kiss and a smile from Blithe.

The next morning Blithe slept through Sydney coming in to get Charlie ready for their morning golf game. In an outfit that was very similar to what the O'Sheas had on, Charlie climbed into William's cart ready to begin his lesson. The game progressed with Charlie teeing off then one of the siblings helping him out with the next shot to advance it down the fairway.

Grace and the girls were sitting around the breakfast nook enjoying a snack when the golfers returned. They all laughed when Blithe had to get Charlie to take deep breaths to get the little boy to calm down when Sydney sat him on his mother's lap. He was on overload and it was only going to get worse when he saw his costume for the party that night Sydney suspected.

"How about a nap, Charlie?" Sydney grabbed a juice bottle from the refrigerator after opening one for the toddler. She loved playing with her father and brothers, but the six in the morning tee off times were a killer.

"I don't wanna sleep, Cai."

"Then how about you watch me sleep while I take one?" Blithe was amazed when her son jumped off her lap and started to follow Sydney out of the kitchen area after her question. The only way she would have gotten Charlie to sit still would have involved a tranquilizer gun. The two stopping at the door and looking her way got Blithe up and moving to follow them to Sydney's room.

"There's just all kinds of perks being with you," said Blithe. Charlie had taken two seconds to fall asleep between the two of them once they had settled into Sydney's bed. "Though this isn't what I had in mind for what we'd be doing the first time I got you into a prone position."

"If you believe Kay, you're not missing much."

"There isn't much I'd believe Kay on, sweetheart. The ones I do tend to believe are some of the stories I heard about you before Kay came into your life."

"Ah, heard some of my war stories have you?"

"Does the name Camille Lagree sound familiar to you?"

"That's a loaded question, Ms. Thompson. If I say yes you'll think I'm a dog and by the same token, if I say no you'll think the same thing."

"We'll go with the yes part of that statement, which makes the sex in the back seat of your car true."

"I was in college at the time. Everyone should do crazy things like that when they're in college. Gives you stuff to talk about when you're trying to court new women in your thirties and trying to prove your sexual prowess."

Blithe laughed and reached over Charlie to run her fingers through Sydney's hair. "You forgot to mention it was noon and you where parked in the dean's space at the time."

"Did I?"

"You did, but you're right."

"About?"

"It proves your sexual prowess, to me anyway. I love you and I can't wait to take you out for a spin. I may not have as many adventures to talk about, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to add a few."

"For now you can add a nap to your list. Once my parents' friends get going it always turns out to be a long night." Sydney pushed up and leaned over to kiss Blithe before closing her eyes to get some rest.

"I trust you got us something to wear, or am I going as a social worker with a child?"

"Grace won't let us go without a costume, so not to worry, the caped crusader got her two side kicks all fixed up." It was the only hint Sydney was willing to give before sleep took over.

Grace smiled and closed the door softly when she checked on the three twenty minutes later. Charlie was now lying sprawled on top of Sydney and his mother was snuggled up and using the unoccupied shoulder as a pillow. Her thought as she walked to her own room for a nap was it would be a night to remember.

On that Halloween night the older woman's thought manifested into a wish that would indeed make the night memorable. The call for blood would make it so.

"Batman, Catwoman and Robin, that's our costumes?"

Sydney looked down on the rented suits then back at Blithe. "What's wrong with that?"

"Catwoman's a villain."

"Are you telling me you couldn't be a bad girl if you really tried?" Blithe went willingly when Sydney pushed her down on the bed and covered her with a long strong body. "All that blonde hair and green eyes screams all American, but you start to scratch the surface and there's a hellion waiting to cut loose." To accentuate her words Sydney ran a finger across Blithe's nipple and felt it stiffen under the shirt and bra.

"What are you doing, Cai?" Sydney's head snapped up and she found herself eye to eye with Charlie. Obviously the toys in his and Blithe's room had lost their appeal.

"Um," started Sydney as she looked from Charlie's smiling face to Blithe's smirking one.

"Charlie, could you go get mommy's hair brush please? It's on the bed next door." Without questioning why, Charlie walked through the door that connected the rooms to do his mother's bidding. "Before you ask, we have children because they will someday be big enough to cut the grass. And now that my nipples are ready to go to the party, I do feel a little frisky, Batman."

The anticipation of having a good time increased when the mask to the costume slipped into place. With a few extra gadgets attached to the suit's belt the caped figure neared the door.

A frustrated blonde came to the door after the persistent knocking wouldn't stop. "Aren't you a little old to be trick or treating? Freaks like you should've gone back inside after the kiddies went home. What or who are you supposed to be anyway?"

The figure standing before her flicked out the long cape and smiled showing off perfect white teeth. "Death." The gun resting inside the belt came out and was pointed at the woman's head. "People like you always seem so surprised to see me. No time to make up for the transgressions that have marked your life. Where's your lover?" The blonde slowly lifted her arm and pointed to the next room. The action made the robe she was wearing flair open revealing a beautiful and toned body.

"Please."

"Such a waste really," the deep voice said looking at the expanse of flesh on display. "It's nothing against you, sweetheart. You're just here on the wrong night. Move along and please can the begging." The hand with the gun motioned for her to go into the room where she had pointed.

"Please." The blonde tried begging again since the costume was make believe but the gun looked very real. "Let me go."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm going to let you go. I'm not here because of you, so I'll set you free when we're done."

"What in the hell?" the bed's other occupant sat up and stared at the 9mm held firmly in the gloved hand. Its presence prevented any other movement but to watch the hand motioning the blonde toward the bed.

"On your knees, bitch. I want to see for myself what all the allure's about when it comes to your fuck buddy here." The woman moved closer to the person sitting on the bed intent on doing whatever it took to get out of the situation alive. The first shot roared through the house when her lips touched skin. Her lips stayed pressed to the body she knew almost as well as her own despite the fact she could feel the warm spray of blood on her back. A whimper escaped when the gun was pressed to the back of her head.

"Please, you said you'd let me go free," begged Kay.

"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, I meant in the spiritual sense would you gain your freedom." The rich voice uttering those words was the last the reporter heard before she joined Matt in death. The artist's penis was almost severed by the bullet that came screaming out of Kay's mouth by way of the back of her head. Her purse being at the scene was the only way the police would be able to identify her. Dental records would be of no use now.

The killer heard the approaching sirens but didn't panic. One final look to the bed was almost savored before the gun went back to its place in the belt. The blackness of the yard swallowed the self-professed ‘Angel of Death' just barely missing the two patrol cars pulling up to answer the neighbor's call.

"I may give up my bat ways and turn to a life of crime," said Sydney from the door. Blithe had filed up the Catwoman suit in the most erotic way.

"Is that a sock in your cod piece or are you just happy to see me?"

"I'll take you back to the bat cave later and let you check out the hardware. For now I'm here to introduce you to my side kick and go down to the party." Sydney moved aside so Blithe cold see Charlie in his Robin costume pressing his fists into his sides like Sydney had taught him.

"Holly smoke, Batman, it's the cat lady." Blithe had to fight the smile that was threatening to take over her face.

"Good job, Robin, let's go downstairs so you can see why Grace got married on Halloween."

"Holly smoke?" whispered Blithe to Sydney.

"We were going for holy kitty cat, but my side kick needed more practice time so I think the fact he remembered holly is all right."

"You're good for him, baby."

Sydney smiled at the endearment. "Just wait till next year when I've got months to plan."

The house was full of guests when the three descended the stairs. Most of them smiling when they saw Batman carrying Robin and Catwoman folded under one side of the long cape. Blithe laughed when she spotted Grace wearing a wedding dress complete with veil. William was just as dapper in his top hat and tails following his wife around as she welcomed their friends.

"She gets to be a bride every year," said Blithe.

"She gets to be a bride who wears her wedding dress every year. The one she wore the first time they had a party or should I say reception," corrected Sydney.

"She can still fit into her wedding dress?" Blithe saw years of dieting in her future if Grace was going to be her role model.

"There was talk that I ruined her figure for months after my birth, but yes she still fits into her wedding dress. My grandparents certainly got their money's worth out of the purchase."

When the bride noticed them she led them to the front room to pose for another picture. Only this time it was just the three of them. The new couple stayed for a couple of hours then retired up stairs when Robin fell asleep on Batman's shoulder while they were slow dancing with Catwoman.

"Thank you for asking us to come with you. Your family has been great at making us feel welcome." Blithe gently stripped Charlie of his costume being careful not to wake him. Her date for the evening was sitting on the bed wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants after stripping off the hot Batman suit.

Piercing blue eyes looked at Blithe as she went about taking care of her son. For Sydney it became something she wanted to see more of. This beautiful woman with her sweet child were starting to fill places in her soul she had lived a lifetime not knowing were empty. How strange to not have a craving for this in my life before now. The thought occurred to the attorney when she saw Blithe kiss Charlie's forehead and pull the blankets up to cover him. It was like the two had answered questions Sydney had never had the presence of mind to ask.

"I hope this isn't the last invitation you accept from me to come here."

"Mordecai, we want the same things, so I don't think you have to worry about us turning you down for anything." The music from downstairs was filtering up through the floor enough for Blithe to recognize one of her favorite songs. "Want to try a dance, just the two of us?" She laughed when a big hand yanked her off the bed before the offer could be retracted.

They stood just swaying together and kissing even after the song ended. Blithe didn't refuse when Sydney led her to the next room and laid her down. With the door to the next room open in case Charlie woke up, they kissed goodnight and went to sleep in a tight embrace. In the morning Grace found them in the same position as she had the previous afternoon, with Charlie on top of Sydney and Blithe pressed close to her side. As much as she didn't want to, Grace shook her daughter awake.

"Honey, the phone's for you, and they said it was important."

Sydney blinked her eyes open then looked down confused to why Charlie was sleeping with them. She wasn't coherent enough to ask who would be calling her on a Sunday morning with an important message.

"If anything this will teach you to invest in pajamas," teased Grace as she lifted the baby off Sydney.

"Mama." Sydney dragged out her word not missing the fact it was the first time her mother had teased her about her sex life. Grace's teasing and sense of humor only appeared around people she liked. Kay and she had been at odds on just about everything from the moment they were introduced. Sydney was glad that Blithe and her mother would share a different type of relationship.

When Sydney moved off the bed Blithe immediately opened her eyes missing the warmth of the body next to hers. "Where are you going, it's early?"

"I've got someone waiting on the line, I'll be right back. Go back to sleep and keep Charlie company." Sydney had moved out of the way so her mother could put the still sleeping child back down back next to his mother.

"Don't take long," said Blithe.

Sydney moved out into the hall and picked up the main line to the house. Having phones installed in all the bedrooms had always been against Grace's thinking, so every house they had ever owned had a phone in the hallway leading to the bedrooms, in the den and in the kitchen. Her thinking was if you were trying to relax or sleep the last thing you needed was something constantly ringing in your ear. It always brought a frown to the petite woman's face when she visited Sydney's apartment and found not only a phone but also a cell on the nightstand.

"Hello."

"We got him, boss." The voice of Elwood White one of her assistant's came over the line giving Sydney no clue as to what he was talking about.

"Got who?"

"Vincent Carlotti, he finally committed a crime the state can prosecute and Mr. Gilespy wanted me to get in touch with you so we can start working the case."

Sydney exhaled thinking about the tremendous amount of work that awaited her when she drove back into New Orleans. Damn I hope Blithe is more understanding when I disappear for the next four months or so than Kay was when something like this happened. The excitement of wanting to bag someone like old man Carlotti was taking a back seat to spending time with Blithe and Charlie. It's a good thing she finds that sofa in my office so comfortable.

"What did our mob friend do?" Sydney asked already thinking of her closing arguments. As much as she liked Carlotti's son Vinny, she knew his father had to finally answer for his crimes.

"Killed two people last night in cold blood. You aren't going to like the next part of this story, boss."

"Elwood, just spit it out. Nothing you can tell me is going to surprise me."

"Mr. Carlotti went to the home studio of some guy named Matt Franklin and killed him and the girl he was with."

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

"I thought you might recognize the name, but anyway. Matt was naked in bed with Kay, your Kay, Sydney. Mr. Carlotti obviously didn't like where Kay had her mouth and shot her through the back of the head blowing this guy Franklin's pecker almost clean off." Elwood stopped as if realizing who he was talking to and the relationship she had shared with the woman that was dead.

"She isn't my Kay anymore, El, and not just because she's dead, but you're right, I'm surprised. What I don't get is why Vincent Carlotti would take the chance of blowing his freedom on two people he doesn't know. Why kill Kay or this guy Matt Franklin?"

"That's why they pay us the big bucks, boss. I've called together our top investigators for a meeting this afternoon at two. I figured it would give you enough time to drive back into the city, if not let me know and I'll move it back or keep them entertained until you get back."

"Thanks, man. I'll get packed and be at the office in about three hours." Sydney hung up the phone and turned to face her mother, who at the moment didn't look all that happy. "It's important, mama. Vincent Carlotti's in custody for a double homicide and Gilbert threw my team the case."

"Are you taking Blithe and Charlie with you?"

"I'm going to offer them a ride unless they want to ride back with you and papa. If it was anything else I'd have said no, trust me."

Grace reached up and put her palm on Sydney's cheek. "I do trust you, baby, I just don't want you to work yourself into an early grave. I worry about you but that's a mother's prerogative."

"Duly noted, Mrs. O'Shea."

"The other Mrs. O'Shea awaits your return, Mordecai." Sydney just rolled her eyes at her mother's persistent nature.

The mother and child on her bed looked so comfortable under the covers that Sydney couldn't resist joining them if only for a little while. She moved Charlie to the other side of Blithe, confidant that he wouldn't fall off the big bed. Blithe opened her eyes again when the body next to hers pressed up against her length and then some.

"Hiya, good looking."

"Good morning to you, beautiful." Blithe snorted at the compliment sure that her hair was sticking up in a million different directions. "You do look beautiful, don't argue with me. You keep forgetting that I could have you arrested if you're a bad girl."

"Disagreeing with you makes me a bad girl?"

"Most of the time, so it's a good thing for you that I happen to like bad girls." Sydney kissed her before telling her they had to leave earlier than planned not wanting to take the chance Blithe would cut her off when she told her what was waiting for her when they got home.

"I love waking up with you, Mordecai O'Shea. Your mom was right naming you that. You make me feel like I'm off to great places and today's my day when you look at me like that. It's how I felt when I saw you for the first time in that coffee shop. It seems so trite to say but I just knew when you didn't scream at Charlie for messing up your shirt that you were the one for me. I love you."

Sydney kissed her again and held her tight so that when she rolled onto her back Blithe was lying on top of her. "I love you too, and had I been a smarter camper I would've gone home and left Kay that night. Then we wouldn't have wasted two months tap dancing around how we felt."

"Do you think we have a chance?"

"Honey, we're going to make this work. It won't be hard loving you and Charlie, and I promise I'll try my best to make us a family."

"We already are."

Sydney lifted her head and stole another kiss before she went on. "You may not think I'll be pulling my weight when I tell you who was on the phone." Sydney explained what was going on and why they had to go back. She did give Blithe the opportunity to stay and have brunch with her family if she wanted to and just get together later on that night if she was done at the office.

"Would it bother you if Charlie and I came and hung out in your office? He loves it there and I can get a head start on the week's paperwork. The bonus is I get to look up and make goo goo eyes at you every chance I get." An example of goo goo eyes was shot at Sydney making her smile.

"How can I pass up an offer like that?"

"You can't. I'm going to work hard at making you not think about anyone but me." Blithe teased before caressing Sydney's cheek. "I'm sorry about Kay, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry too. There's no logical explanation as to why he would've killed her. Kay did fluff pieces for the paper so it couldn't have been that angle. The editor's not a guy that would have moved her from fashion etiquette to the inner workings of the wise guys society in that short of period of time."

"Well come on, Batman, the scales of justice await, and if there's anyone that can find Carlotti guilty it's you."

Sydney studied the crime scene photographs that were spread out over her desk. It was days like this that she longed for the days when the CSI unit used black and white film for this kind of stuff. The bright red stains splattered everywhere in Matt Franklin's bedroom was glaring up at her like some sort of sick art that the late artist had drying in the other room of his studio. Blithe and Charlie had gone out with one the investigators for some ice cream for this part of her investigation. There was no way she wanted Charlie accidentally getting a look at what she was staring down on.

Kay's face was as unrecognizable as the man that had fallen in a haphazard way on the bed when the bullet had blown off the back of his head. If Vincent Carlotti had indeed done the two people in the pictures in, he wanted to inflict the most amount of damage as he could. No matter what had happened between she and Kay, Sydney would fight to give her the justice she deserved for what had happened to her. She would make Carlotti pay for what he'd done, and the price would be a needle in his arm. The prosecutor just hoped that Vinny would understand she was doing her job.

"Can I come in?" Blithe asked from the door. She was alone having left Charlie in the company of Sydney's staff in the conference room. Her son was entertaining them with stories about how great his Cai was at pushing swings.

Sydney moved away from her desk and took a lick of Blithe's cone. "Hey did I say you could have some of my ice cream?" The short blonde asked.

"I thought we had gotten to the point in our relationship where your cone was my cone."

"You want to ravish my body then I'm game, Mordecai, but my ice cream cone is another story, bucko." Blithe pushed her toward the sofa and pushed Sydney down as soon as they were close enough. "You want to talk about it?"

"It was a gruesome end, he made sure of that. The thing that's puzzling me is what his connection to Kay or the guy she was sleeping with is. With two shots he stole not only their lives but their dignity."

"I have confidence in you, honey, you'll figure it out. Help me eat my ice cream and then I'm taking you home." Blithe moved to Sydney's lap and held the cone up to her lips for a taste. When the tall woman did Blithe held the cone away and moved in for a kiss. "Now this is the way to enjoy an ice cream."

When Sydney moved in for another more intense kiss, Blithe tossed the ice cream in the trash and pushed Sydney down on her back. "When we get home I want you to touch me and I can't wait anymore," demanded Blithe. Sydney covered her mouth and entered her mouth with an insistent tongue as she pulled Blithe closer by cupping her backside. Blithe made the prosecutor feel alive, and she needed that after looking at the pictures of death on her desk for so long. The small blonde was like a safe haven away from the ugliness that Sydney's job often was. Only this time the passion for both of them was entwined with the love they felt for each other.

The buzzer on her desk was the last thing Sydney expected to hear. "Boss, I hate to bother you but the jail's on line one."

"I'm sorry, baby, hold that thought until we get back to your place and put Charlie to bed." Sydney left the frustrated blonde on the sofa to pick up the phone. "Yes." She listened to the caller and didn't say anything for the longest time. Blithe watched as she blew out a frustrated sigh before answering. "Tell him I'll be there in twenty minutes." The caller must have asked something else when Sydney stopped talking. "No don't set up the cameras until tomorrow. I'm sure the feds want their chance to observe my official conversation with him so they can take their chance again once we're done."

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Blithe knew that Sydney needed to go. She wasn't going to ask where she was going, but she had a bad feeling about letting the attorney out of her sight.

"That's sweet, but no. Take Charlie home and I'll be there as soon as I can. Vincent Carlotti asked to speak to me and as a friend I owe him at least one meeting off the record. After tonight all bets are off."

"Promise me you'll be careful." Blithe moved closer and put her hands on Sydney's chest.

"I promise, baby. It's a jail, he's not going to kill me."

"I love you, Mordecai." Blithe said it with such conviction that her eyes filled up with tears.

Sydney cupped Blithe's face and kissed both lids in an effort to keep the tears from falling. "It's ok, honey, I promise I'll be all right and I love you too. Having you and Charlie in my life means so much that I won't do anything to jeopardize that." Sydney kissed her with the same passion she had put into the kiss on the sofa before the call. It left both of them wanting more and Blithe hoped it would make Sydney hurry home. They had a life to get on with.

"Mordecai, thank you for coming."

"Mr. Carlotti, it's been a long time."

The old man looked distinguished even in his prison orange jumpsuit. He shook Sydney's hand before waving to the chair across from him. "Please call me Vincent, Mordecai. I think we're passed the formalities that held you in your youth when we first met. I told my son a long time ago that you were someone to watch out for. Sit with me and let's talk awhile." For thirty minutes the mobster talked to her about her family and his, acting as if they were having lunch at his favorite restaurant to reminisce about old times. When Sydney was about to ask what he wanted, there was a knock on the door and the guard let in another man that looked more like a prisoner than Vincent did.

"Can I help you?" asked Sydney.

"I'm here to deliver something to Mr. Carlotti."

"Hugo, stop being an ass and introduce yourself," Vincent said with a bite to his tone.

"I'm sorry, Ms. O'Shea. I'm Hugo Lepski; I work for Mr. Carlotti. These are all the ones you asked for, sir. Let me know if you need anything else." Hugo dropped a thick yellow envelope between the two of them and turned to leave.

"Mordecai, I'm an old man. An old man that's committed his share of sins in this life and I'm sure one day I'm going to answer for them. But I'm thinking if you listen to my story, that payment to the piper won't come today."

Sydney looked from the envelope to him and smiled. "I don't mean to insult you, Vincent, but there's nothing you can tell me that will explain what you did. If you admit it in open court I might be willing to take the death penalty off the table but that's as far as I'm willing to go."

"My wife died some years back." Vincent continued as if he had not heard her or had just chosen to ignore her. "I married again because I'm not a man who likes being alone. A year later my new wife gave me Alicia and I knew joy again, but then I found out something that challenged my love for my daughter." He stopped and took a deep breath as though he needed it to calm his emotions.

"She's not mine. Not by blood anyway and for so long I got caught up in what that meant because of my upbringing. I know now that she's mine in spirit because I love that little girl so much, but Alicia was sired by Matt Franklin. My wife will pay for her sins soon enough but not by me. I won't kill my child's mother, but anger led me to kill the one person that helped her betray me. The fact your castaway was in his bed when I got there was an unfortunate circumstance, and now I'm asking you to look beyond your honor and understand." He pulled the envelope closer and moved to open it.

"My son tells me you fucked more women in college than he did. That tells me you have in you the understanding of what a woman can do to your senses." He pulled the first picture out and Sydney looked down to find Kay standing on the porch of Matt's house pressed into his body while he stuck his hand in the back of her skirt.

"You understand the passion that they can stir in you to avenge your honor." The next picture was obscured some by the blinds but she could see Kay straddling the artist as he was caught in an upward thrust into her.

"This scum had more women than the two of us put together. I'm not a man to be cuckolded, Mordecai, and I don't see you as someone that would put up with that. Not from someone like this." Vincent tapped on the next picture that showed Matt standing up and Kay on her knees in front of him.

Sydney looked at the picture under Vincent's finger and felt her anger rise a notch. "I didn't put up with it, Vincent. I left the bitch and I'm thinking that's what you should have done too. This little picture show won't sway me to drop the charges and let you go."

From his pocket he pulled a tape recorder and pressed the play button. The voice that filled the integration room was unmistakable. It was Kay's.

"She turned me down, can you believe it? We need Sydney's money, Matt, and Blithe's our ticket to getting it."

"What do you propose we do?" The male voice, Sydney had to guess, was Matt Franklin. She watched the wheel of the recorder advance the tape wondering what in the hell had happened to Kay.

"You, lover, are going to wait until the two meet and get to know each other. Then I want you to get that big cock of yours hard and pay a little visit to Ms. Blithe while she's working in one of those bad neighborhoods she frequents. I want you to make it last and I want you to enjoy yourself. The aftershocks of the rape should send Blithe into Sydney's arms and the pathetic do gooder will fall all over herself to make her feel better. If that happens, even if Sydney leaves me we'll hold our first little plan over Blithe's head and the good life just keeps rolling in."

Vincent turned off the tape and put it back in his pocket. "Good night, Mordecai. I'll see you in court tomorrow."

Sydney drove to Blithe's finding the house dark for the night. It was almost a relief not to have to face the woman she loved and explain what Kay had in store for her. The next stop was the little house Matt Franklin lived in and used as a studio. Yellow police tape was still strung up in the yard sounding like party favors in the wind when she exited the car. With a quick turn of the key she was in the house standing in the bedroom where the two coconspirators met their end. The dried blood looked different from the pictures she had studied that afternoon and like Vincent had done, Sydney almost savored the stains for what they meant.

Sitting in the chair where Hugo's camera had captured Matt sitting in one of the pictures as Kay put her mouth to good use, the first assistant District Attorney for Orleans Parish mentally prepared for the next days arraignments. The longer she stared at the stain, the more Sydney detached so Ice could take over. It was that part of her personality that was needed now even if it meant losing everything she held dear and believed in.

"I missed you last night." Blithe sat on the big desk right in front of Sydney. Charlie was happy at the O'Shea's home playing with William and Grace for the morning.

"I'm sorry it took so long, but you must have been sleeping when I passed by."

The flat tone of Sydney's voice started to concern Blithe. "You ok?"

"Yeah just waiting for court." Sydney exhaled and ran her hands down her face. The evil plan Kay and Matt had worked out kept playing in her head almost like Vincent had kept pressing the rewind button.

"I wish I could be there when the judge denies Mr. Carlotti's bail. Good luck, baby, and remember that I love you."

"You promise."

"Of course I do. I love you and I'm going to forever, Mordecai O'Shea."

"I love you too, and I'm going to hold you to that no matter what."

The intercom going off stopped Blithe from asking what Sydney meant. She just helped Sydney on with her coat and kissed her for luck. Sydney gifted her with one of the smiles she didn't use often making the blonde's knees weak. In those crinkles around Sydney's eyes was where she would find her future happiness. To make the attorney smile like that would become a life's quest.

Jude Rose listened to the defense attorney drone on about the virtuous Mr. Carlotti and his ties to the community. The man finished right before the judge was about to shut him up. He motioned with his gavel for Sydney to put on the prosecution's objections as to why Vincent should rot in jail until his trail date.

"Your honor, the people would move to drop all the charges against Mr. Carlotti." The motion created complete silence before complete pandemonium broke out.

"In my chambers now." Jude slammed the gavel down as Gilbert Gilespy slammed through the gate in the railing.

"Your honor, there's no evidence that Mr. Carlotti committed these crimes. There are about two hundred witnesses that put him at a party from nine that night until three the next morning. They include people from his wife to the mayor of the city. The federal officers said the assailant they saw in the next block from Matt Franklin's house was masked and couldn't say with certainty that it was the defendant. The last piece that doesn't fit is Mr. Carlotti doesn't have any connection to the victims. Why would someone who the authorities have been chasing for years leave a party and kill two people he doesn't know?"

"Mordecai, are you sure about this?" Jude asked. He looked at her and waited knowing in his gut she wouldn't lie to him. He tuned out Gilbert's sputtering in the background complaining about the missed press opportunities this would cost him.

"I'm sure, judge. He wasn't the one." She never blinked or changed her expression.

"Mr. Carlotti, you're free to go."

Sydney watched Vincent walk out of the courtroom with his son and his young daughter. With him he took every oath she'd promised to uphold and every principle she'd believed would never be compromised. She followed them out and sat at the top of the courthouse steps. Over her head was carved a likeness of blind justice holding her scales. Sydney knew now that justice wasn't blind. It could be bought by devils that lived by their own rules of ethics or lack of them, and she'd lied to help him get away with it.

Vincent loaded his family in the long black car and turned to look up at Sydney. He walked up the steps and sat beside her. Across the street the federal authorities began again with their surveillance and picture taking.

"She isn't worthy of your guilt, Mordecai."

"Is she worthy of yours?"

"In a way yes. Would I change it if I had it to do over? No I wouldn't. There are people in this world who deserve death and almost embrace it with every day they live their lives. Funny that it comes as such a surprise to them when it comes to them holding a big gun."

Sydney just looked at him not sure as to what to say next. Vincent smiled and patted her knee leaving the tape he had let her listen to the night before resting there when he took his hand away.

The attorney looked at it for a long time before looking back up at Vincent. "A gift?"

"My way of saying thank you for the time you've given me with my daughter."

"It seems we aren't all that different."

"Why do you think so?" Vincent cocked his head to the side and smiled.

"I want to thank you for the time you've given me with my son and his mother without the pain of what could've happened hanging over our heads. You pulled the trigger and I'm glad. If I had today to do over again I wouldn't change the outcome either." Sydney looked down the street and then at Vincent as he walked back down the stairs to his car. "Thank you."

A woman that was entering the building looked at Sydney when she had spoken thinking she was talking to her, but hadn't heard what the good looking attorney had said. She stopped walking and looked down at Sydney saying, "I'm sorry," as a way of starting a conversation.

"What?"

"I said I was sorry about your shirt. Charlie didn't mean it." Blithe stood before her holding two malts she'd just retrieved from the counter. Beside her Charlie's hands were still frozen in the air. Red finger paint ran down his arm, or at least the small amount that hadn't been left on the back of her shirt.

Sydney looked at the two trying to figure out how she'd ended up in the coffee shop. She had closed her eyes for a moment when Vincent's car had driven away, and found herself back in the coffee shop when she'd opened them again. "It's ok, really. I guess I dozed off and he startled me." Her laptop was opened to the case she had been working on. The name at the top was Augustern. To add to her confusion her phone on the table rang and Sally told her that the Rohan verdict was in and she was running late.

"Must have been some dream," said Blithe.

"Interesting but nice. Must be all the caffeine." Sydney didn't know what had happened so she stood up and went about doing the things she was sure of. She started packing her briefcase stopping her actions when she felt those green eyes on her.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"My name's Mordecai O'Shea."

"Like the Dr. Seuss book?"

"One in the same, only my middle name's Sydney, but you can call me Mordecai."

Blithe looked at the smiling woman and she looked so familiar. The fact the woman was packing to leave made her wrack her brain to find something to make her stay. When the two little red hand prints showed up on the white shirt and the body in the chair whipped around, Blithe was sure if the counter hadn't been there she would have fallen on the floor after getting a look at Sydney.

"Can I give you a ride somewhere to make up for your shirt?"

"You can do better than that." Sydney finished her packing and turned to face Blithe. Without fear of being shunned she took the malts out of Blithe's hands pulled her closer and kissed her. "Let me get this trial finished up and then we can go to dinner. Once we get the formalities out of the way, we can take Charlie to the park tomorrow." Sydney let her go and picked up her stuff. "Ready?"

Blithe was the one looking stunned now but she picked up the malts and followed Sydney out the door. Later she would have to remember to ask how Sydney knew so much about her and Charlie. And why the attorney had been so certain her kiss wouldn't be rejected? When Blithe reached her van to unlock it she heard the last of Sydney's telephone conversation.

"It's over. I know about Matt and it's over."

"Are you ready?" Blithe asked her.

"For whatever comes next." Sydney smiled and put her hand in her pocket to take out her sunglasses when she felt something there. She pulled out a small tape that had the words ‘Sincerely Vincent' on the title line. With a quick toss she threw it in the trash and held her hand out to Blithe. "I'm definitely ready for whatever comes next."

"What do you do when the devil offers you a deal? Mordecai O'Shea found that she could live with the guilt if it protected those she loved. Because she was able to so readily admit it, she was given another chance to do it right."

"How is that possible you ask? It's just another lesson learned in The Twilight Zone."

THE END

VAMPIRES, MUMMIES and the HOLY GHOST

Disclaimers:

The characters in the following story are of my own creation. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be used, sold or reproduced in any manner without written permission from me, the author.

If the thought of two women being romantically involved is not for you, then this story is one you won't want to read. If you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed or frowned upon move on, literally.

Sit back and enjoy the story, any comments can be sent to me at

terrali20@yahoo.com.

I want to thank my betas for correcting this for me. Beth, my Florida buddy, Steph and Ken, you are all godsends. I bow to your grammatical knowledge and your spelling abilities. You all definitely make these more enjoyable to read.

I would also like to thank all the wonderful people who take the time to read these stories. Thank you for all the great notes you have sent. I appreciate them all. Happy Halloween.

October 31, 2003

This is dedicated as always to the one woman who holds my heart. As in all things you've taught me to enjoy life and to live it so it makes me want to dance. I love you with all that I am. You are the candle in the darkness.

VAMPIRES, MUMMIES AND
THE HOLY GHOST

PART 1

"KENDAL, YOU CAN'T just leave. These people are here to see you." The man tried to sound menacing, but the fact the top of his head barely cleared her collarbone made the pose almost comical.

"Why ever not, Bruce? It's my party, I can leave if I want to," joked Kendal. Her coat was still draped over her arm, and no amount of threats from her attorney, and long time friend Bruce Babagge, was forestalling her departure.

Bruce ran his fingers through his mousy brown thinning hair trying to keep his body between her and the door. "What am I supposed to tell them? The mayor's here dammit."

So much like your father, little man. Kendal Mackey looked at the shorter man and used her best smile. He was one of the reasons she was so successful, but Bruce never knew when to turn it off. Life for him revolved around business and the art of the deal. She thrived on the chase as well but every so often it was nice to just relax and take a walk some place where no one knew you. In New York there were very few people in the right circles who didn't know who Kendal was and how much she was worth. It was hard to be the constant flavor of the month everyone wanted a piece of.

Mackey, Inc. was started on a college dare. A classmate bet Kendal couldn't talk a bank loan officer into lending her enough money to buy a dog much less anything more valuable. His problem had been that he didn't know her very well or what she was capable of when motivated. One borrowed suit and persuasive presentation later she was the proud owner of Jersey Iron Works. Six months after that she was selling the six acres of river front property where the plant had once stood for top dollar. The initial loan was paid in full from the sale of everything she could get rid of, from scrap iron to company cars.

Before Kendal walked across the stage to collect her business degree there had been two more deals. The only difference was the suit wasn't borrowed and she had more than her charm to back up the loan. She left NYU in a Mercedes coup and burned up the business world as fast as the car burned up the highway.

Now the suits were custom made as well as the shirts she wore under them, and after ten years at the head of her company, Kendal was known as the blue eyed ‘Great White.' Anyone with a vulnerable company worth more in pieces than it would ever be whole understood the moniker. She was a business-killing machine who showed no mercy as she put your livelihood on the block.

"Tell them I went for a walk, or make up something. I don't care. You know I can't stand these things," Kendal said waving her arm toward the crowd behind her. They were in one of the reception halls of the Ritz Carleton in New Orleans attending a cocktail party hosted by some of the city's leaders. It was hard to tell what they were salivating over more, the stuffed shrimp or the thought of her donations to the city's hurting school system.

"Trust me, Bruce, once they have the check in hand they'll adore us. You know I love to soften the blow before pulling out the big guns. By the time they figure out what we're really doing here we'll own sixty acres along the Mississippi to do with as we please." With a soft pat to Bruce's shoulder, Kendal was out the door headed to the elevator. It had been years since her last visit to New Orleans, but the stories she had read made her want to start walking the old streets to get a new feel for the place.

Unlike other cities where the streets started to wrap up their activities by eleven o'clock, the Big Easy was just getting started. Kendal walked out the front of the hotel to Canal Street, the main drag downtown. While the coat had been necessary when they left New York, here the mid October weather was mild and pleasant.

She smiled and reached into her pocket for a tip to give the doorman who had rushed to do his job. "Could you have this sent up to the Presidential Suite?" Kendal handed over a twenty and her coat.

"Right away, Ms. Mackey." He draped the coat carefully over his arm and tipped his hat. "Will you need a cab, ma'am?"

"What's your name?"

"Edwin, ma'am." He tipped his hat again out of habit, surprised someone like her would bother engaging in conversation with someone like him.

"Edwin, huh? Like the governor who's in jail? You must get a lot of ribbing. How about you call me Kendal, Edwin? I'll be staying long enough that we should be on a first name basis before I head home. The use of titles is something I got over a long time ago. And to answer your question, no I don't need a cab."

"Please be careful then. This is New Orleans after all, as much as it pains me to say that."

A soft laugh rumbled up from her chest and it occurred to her that it was the first heartfelt laugh she had released in weeks. "Don't tell me, the place is haunted."

"I'm sure there's more than one goblin running around these streets, but I'm more worried about the ones who are very much alive and very much armed." Edwin pointed his finger at her like a gun.

The dark head leaned forward looking like she wanted to share something special with the man. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Edwin. It's them who should be scared of me." His warning did make her reconsider the use of her coat. Not that she'd be cold but you never knew when the cargo in her pockets would come in handy. "On second thought, give me the coat back."

"What, is it bullet proof or something?"

Kendall laughed again as she threw the garment over her shoulder. "Or something is right."

The doorman watched as Kendal started toward the river at a fast pace after sharing a laugh. He almost believed she could take on the world as he took in the slim waist above long legs and under broad, capable looking shoulders. It was her eyes though that had captured his imagination. In the early hours, when most of the guests were in their rooms for the night, Edwin got the chance to pull out whatever novel he was reading. The line ‘she had old looking eyes' had been printed in more than a couple of them. Looking into Kendal Mackey's face he now knew what the authors were writing about. Her eyes had the look of those who had witnessed history.

As Kendal made quick work of the city blocks she noticed each traffic light at each intersection had a line of cars waiting for the all too brief spans of green. Some had their windows rolled down to enjoy the cool weather and also so anyone walking could enjoy the blaring music pouring out of speakers worth more than the vehicle they were riding around in. This part of the city could have been anywhere USA as far as Kendal was concerned. It was where she was headed that she was anticipating. Had it changed in the years she had been away?

The first major difference came at the end of the street with the addition of an aquarium with a long walkway that meandered along the muddy water of the Mississippi River to the cusp of the French Quarter. Kendal could hear the lapping of the water against the pilings holding up the sidewalk where she was standing. She started walking toward the old section of the city and her eyes blurred with tears as the memories and years washed over her like a gentle rain. Under a permanent gazebo built where the river made a slight bend she stopped and gripped the railing. Kendal didn't want to remember, but her heart wouldn't listen. The memories had been kept at bay long enough.

"Master, the captain says the ship should be in port by tomorrow." The tall black man bowed slightly even though the person he was addressing had their back to him, their eyes on the gulf water. A gloved hand was holding on to one of the thick ropes that held up the sails and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"And not a day too soon eh, Lionel?"

"I admit I could've lived without all those waves. If I throw up one more time I may not be able to carry the bags down the plank." His French was almost as flawless as his master's causing one of the crew to arch their brow. Slaves barely spoke broken English in his experience. The finely dressed servant spoke such cultured French it would have passed muster in the French royal court.

"Don't worry, Lionel, it may not be traditional, but I'll help if it comes to that." The Marquis Jacques St. Louis turned around and smiled at his man. As always, Lionel appeared to get lost in the blueness of the eyes that seemed to be able to look into your very soul and decipher all your secrets.

Jacques was a tall handsome man who owned a plantation outside the city of New Orleans, but unlike most of his counterparts who worked their slaves into an early grave, he was known for his gentle nature. The French royal had ventured out of his comfortable life in the north of France to make a name for himself in the New World. An accomplishment he had achieved in only five years.

Oakgrove Plantation cultivated sugarcane, tobacco, and cotton on over a thousand acres of cleared land along the Mississippi River to the north of the city. Jacques owned over 500 slaves, who were more like an extended family than owned chattel. There had been plenty of questions about the tall handsome landowner since his arrival, but a smile and wink was all they got out of the quiet man. All the city dwellers knew was there was no wife or children to share the large home he had built, and some of the only times he came into the city at all was to sell his harvest.

"No, sir, even if I have to crawl off this beast from hell, I won't let you do my work. I wonder if we were missed?" Lionel fastened his cloak as the wind picked up putting an extra snap in the sails.

"I'm sure they've noticed we've been gone. As much as I miss my homeland at times, I'm glad to be returning to Oakgrove again. With the sale of my family's land this is my home now."

Jacques was referring to the trip that had taken them back to France to put to rest the loose ends he had left behind when adventure had overtaken his heart. The estate he had spent years on in his homeland had a new owner. The territory of Louisiana held his fortune and his attention now.

The trip back to Europe had taken a little over fourteen months and the two standing on the rail of the ship scanned the horizon for land. There could be nothing sweeter, in Lionel's opinion, than stepping back on solid ground and seeing his family again. Again unlike most of the other landowners in the area, Jacques very seldom split up couples who had found their way to each other, much less any children that resulted from the unions the slaves themselves negotiated. Since coming to the plantation Lionel had been given his own quarters with a young woman named Celia. Their four small children often ran after Jacques' horse when the master visited the large cluster of cabins the servants occupied, and were often seen sitting on his lap talking him out of the candies he carried around in his pockets. It wasn't a rare sight to find the master with a couple of children on his lap and a slew of them at his feet listening to a story from Jacques' extraordinary imagination.

"Sir, will you tell me of your family?" He watched a few of the curls that had escaped the ever-present ponytail Jacques wore fly freely around his forehead. Some of the men in New Orleans used the powdered wigs popular in their countries of origin, but not Jacques. Lionel had seen more than one woman's lingering stare on his master when they did come into town. The thick black hair made an interesting combination with the brilliant blue eyes. It wasn't something commonly seen in the French and Spanish settlers who had made the Port of New Orleans their home.

The silence grew between them and Lionel thought he had made a mistake when he saw the gloved hand take a tighter grip on the rope. "I'm sorry, sir, I meant nothing by the question. It's not my place to question you about anything, so you don't have to answer."

"I don't know why it's important to anyone, but I have only one family member left in this world, Lionel. I have a brother Henri, but he's lost to me so he isn't one of my favorite subjects. Don't fret, Lionel, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just that some choose their lot in life and others have it thrust upon them. Lucky are those who get to pick."

"I don't understand, master."

"Could you perhaps, while we are standing here talking of things like friends, call me Jacques? I think it's been years since I've heard anyone besides myself say my name."

The big slave laughed from nerves and tightened his own grip on the railing. "But we are not friends, sir."

The look on Jacques' face softened but he didn't move from his spot. "In this moment we are much more, Lionel. I've watched you grow from an angry young man who didn't want to let his heritage go, to a fine father and husband. I may own you in the eyes of the law, but in your heart you will always be free, my friend. Did you think it would stay a secret forever that you're the son of a king in your homeland, and that at night you teach your four little ones your language and your traditions?"

For a brief moment the long voyage to a new cruel world after his capture came back to Lionel. The voyage was in some ways more humiliating than being put on the auction block. Everyday more and more lifeless bodies were picked up from the belly of the ship and tossed overboard. He came to think of those who found their freedom in the waves and the deep of the ocean as the lucky ones. They were either dead or too weak to be worth anything once they docked.

The young men from his tribe who had been captured with him looked to him for guidance, but demoralized and in shackles he had none to give them. Now he had come to terms with his capture and enslavement and had found people to love, this man who owned him could end it all with one strong shove. "In this moment we are much more, Lionel," his master had said. Would Jacques throw him overboard for teaching his children the way of their tribe like his father had done for him?

"Please, master, it was only stories to get them to sleep at night. It wasn't meant as any disrespect to you." Lionel's apology came out in a rush and was laced with panic.

The hand that had held onto the rope came down to rest on Lionel's shoulder. "I meant what I said. I've watched you because for so much of my life I was you. No one has ever enslaved me, but I've been angry with the choices that weren't mine to make, but affected me nonetheless. I value your friendship, Lionel, that's all I meant. Sometimes I wish I had sons like you to pass on the vast experience and knowledge I've accumulated through the years." He squeezed the slave's shoulder and smiled. "See, sometimes you are the lucky one among us even if you think your life could be better. We are both slaves to circumstance, my friend. That makes us closer than family."

"Thank you, sir."

"Is there no consideration for my request?"

"Thank you, Jacques." The name rolled strangely off his tongue since Lionel had never uttered it, not even when he was alone with his thoughts. His own enslavement was grossly unfair, but it could have been much worse if he'd been bought by a master not as kind as Jacques. To show disrespect to someone who had treated him like a man wasn't a part of Lionel's makeup and not in his character.

"And I thank you, Lionel." They left the rail and walked toward a row of barrels the crew had lashed to the front for storage and sat down. "Now let me try and make you understand what I said about my only family. My brother is a man who chose his path and walked into the darkness alone. Because he did, I was left with no choice but to make my own future or face the same darkness. For some, the gift I was offered as way of escaping Henri's wrath was something only found in dreams, but like everything in life it comes with a price." Jacques looked out at the water again and sighed. "I'm sorry, Lionel, that's all I can share with you now."

"Does Henri still walk the dark path?" asked Lionel, not wanting their conversation to end. Children weren't the only ones who got lost in Jacques' voice and his stories.

"He revels in it and has only grown worse with time."

They sat in silence together until the sun went down and it was too cold to stay on deck. As they stood to make their way back to their cabins for a bite to eat, it was Lionel who spotted the signal fires the Port lit at night to guide ships into the mouth of the Mississippi. With any luck they would be in New Orleans by morning and back at Oakgrove before nightfall.

When the boat had docked the next morning it was almost at the spot where Kendal was now standing. Back then the crescent in the river that would become one of the city's nicknames - The Crescent City - wasn't so pronounced. So many lifetimes ago, but yet the memories brought with them the same bittersweet pain because so many things had been left undone. It still angered her that she could not save so many of the people she loved.

"Ah, Kendal, weeping still, sister? Always the sentimental one weren't you? Tears are for the foolish and the weak, aren't you above that by now? Not that I'm not happy to see you, sister, but I thought we agreed long ago you were never to return here. We each must have our realms and this is mine." His voice was still the same as the one that haunted her waking dreams when she closed her eyes, and it still held traces of the French he loved to speak. A cultured accent to hide the monster he'd become.

"How did you know I was back?" she asked, trying to gage how powerful Jacques had become.

"Your blood, my sweet. It holds a distinctive scent. There is no other like it in the world. I smelled you in my sleep the moment your plane landed. But that doesn't answer my question, does it?"

"I'm here on business, Jacques, nothing for you to concern yourself with now. Aren't you going to introduce me to your pets?" Kendal had yet to turn around since she was not without her own skills. She was content to watch the tugboats on the river do their jobs hauling barges in both directions. The Mississippi had become massive over the years, but its years of roaming free were over. The levees the Army Core of Engineers built kept it well confined.

"Please, Kendal, I'm sure you have better things to do. Why now?" Something in the distance caught Jacques' attention and he snapped the fingers of his right hand. One of the women standing with him walked away with almost inhuman speed.

"Because as the old saying goes, brother, to everything there is a season. It was my time to come back here even though I didn't want to, believe me. As always you do whatever pleases you without ever thinking of the consequences. The years alone should've taught you that there are always consequences, some more costly than others. Did you think they'd give you free rein forever? Surely the Elders have sent warnings about your behavior before my arrival?"

"Yes they have, but the years have also taught me that with time comes power. You were always one to follow the rules and orders, Kendal. Doesn't it ever bore you to be so good? Then again why should it? It isn't fair that you got all the glory, but it's always been that way hasn't it?" The woman who had run to do Jacques bidding was back looking flushed. Her skin, which moments before had looked like carved alabaster, now looked warm to the touch. "Stay away from me, sister. This will be my only warning."

Kendal didn't need to turn around to know he was gone even though there were no receding footsteps. There were so many things about Jacques that never changed, besides his face. The fact he couldn't face any conflict without a few of his minions to act as his backbone was classic. He had never fought his own battles, but yet his life revolved around constant conflict.

The other reason she never turned around was the timing of his visit. If her brother wanted a fight there was no way it was coming an hour before dawn. Jacques was reckless but not enough to pick a fight that could leave him vulnerable. Kendal shook her head and closed her eyes once again. Standing in this ancient city was filling her head with painful memories, but some of them brought a sense of calm. In a city that seldom slept, an hour before sunrise was as close as it got to total silence.

In that one moment Kendal focused on the sound of the churning water below her and turned her face to the east. Watching the sun rise was a ritual she loved to indulge in whenever her schedule permitted. As pink fingers crept across the sky she raised her hands and started to mummer a prayer her father had taught her as a small child in a temple near their home.

"Father Ra, bringer of life, protect me. Give me strength to do your work and make me true to my spirit and to my cause."

The old Egyptian dialect was one any scholar would give their first born to hear spoken correctly and with the proper accent. It was a language as dead as the men who had spoken it over two thousand years before, but it gave Kendal a sense of belonging. She opened her eyes as the sun made its first appearance, and as it always did, it sent a charge through her as if the ancient god had heard her prayer. If only he would give her the wisdom to make the right decisions in the coming days.

With one final sigh she turned and made her way to Café duMonde for a strong cup of Louisiana coffee with steamed milk. It was one of the things Kendal missed most about the city in her long absence. The French and Spanish settlers who had built New Orleans had brought with them the recipe for strong, full-bodied coffee that had only changed slightly over the years with the addition of Chicory. The filler was an inexpensive way to stretch the grounds during times of war and ration that had become as much a part of southern culture as pecan pie.

Café duMonde was one of those locations tourists flocked to in droves along with the locals. An open-air shop that served only coffee and small pieces of fried bread dough covered in powered sugar call beignets. Like fingerprints, none of the three sugared treats that made up an order was the same even though the dough was now cut by machine. To Kendal the coffee shop with its brass kettles of steamed milk and constant motion was the microcosm of the city.

The waiters were an interesting reflection of the face of the city. The servers had started out as predominately white men who later moved to finer establishments in the near by French Quarter. Then African Americans moved into the vacated positions and were replaced in droves by Hispanics, who in turn lost their jobs to the new Asian faces that had arrived. It seemed almost funny to see the new minority in town was once again old white men serving the melting pot of customers. If history should teach mankind anything, the most valuable lesson was the oppressor would eventually become the oppressed. It was the fate's sense of humor thought Kendal, or maybe it was their way of balancing the scales of justice.

"You want beignets with that?" the waiter asked.

Kendal was seated at one of the tables along the rail, a prime spot for people watching, but mostly empty that morning because of the chill coming off the river. Most of the other customers were jockeying for one of the seats under a heater. "Sure, why not."

"Make it four orders and another café au lait." The man walked up from the street and caught the waiter before he hurried back to fill his orders. Again Kendal didn't have to turn around to see who it was. The voice was another familiar ghost in her head.

"What's the matter, Charlie, don't you trust me?"

"The Order sent me to warn you. Jacques knows you're here and he's preparing." He sat across from her and put his folded hands on the slightly sticky Formica topped table. Considering why Kendal had been summoned it was best to see what kind of mood she was in before assuming she was happy to see him.

"Tell me, Charlie, do you know how pistolettes got their name?" Kendal cocked her head to the aside, her expression showing she was interested in his answer.

"Small French breads used for sandwiches? Those pistolettes?"

A nod from the dark head made him smile. "Those pistolettes."

"No, but I have a feeling I'm about to."

"In early times, before the technology that would make each loaf of bread taste and look exactly alike, bakers would rise early every day to make dough. They mixed the same ingredients, in the same measurements and kneaded. The surprise would come from the yeast. Would it rise? Would it bake correctly? This was the life of a French baker until one of them got smart. He mixed, he kneaded and he waited for the dough to rise. Only then, instead of baking loaves that might or might or might not turn out, he baked small individual loaves."

"So he could correct the dough accordingly, right?" asked Charlie. Long gone were the days when he asked what these talks were about. At the end they were always educational and they were always relevant.

"Correct. When the small loaves turned out he would walk to the door and fire a pistol to signal the town. The shot meant he was putting in the full loaves and they'd be ready within the hour. For those who couldn't wait, the small loves were for sale. In time they came to be called pistolettes for the shot fired everyday."

They were silent as the waiter filled the table with their order and accepted a bill from Kendal. He walked way with a bounce in his step when she waved away the change. "As interesting as that story was, I'm not sure why you told it to me."

"I already know my brother is aware of my arrival. He came to visit me last night, or rather early this morning."

Charlie leaned forward in alarm. "Where?"

"By the river, close to dawn. I wasn't surprised to see him since my walk last night was meant to draw him out. I'm always the eternal optimist when it comes to Jacques, but he's always eternally predictable. He warned me to leave, so obviously my presence won't make him see the error of his ways or motivate him to clean up his own messes in hopes of saving himself."

"That was stupid, Kendal. You of all people know what he's capable of. You shouldn't leave yourself so vulnerable."

A carefree laugh bubbled out of Kendal's chest before she bit into a beignet. "His visit was like a pistolette, Charlie. The real loaf is in the oven baking. It's isn't quite ready yet so I have time. Two of his little helpers weren't enough to do harm, just send a message."

Eyes the exact shade of her own narrowed and Charlie still didn't look appeased. "The Order wants…" he started.

"Whatever I am willing to give them. They came to me remember? Left up to me I would've put his problem to rest years ago. Jacques ceased to be my brother long ago, so trust me I'm not about to fail." The tone of voice was one she seldom used with Charlie, but being spied on was something she detested. "I don't need a baby sitter. Make sure you tell them that."

"I'm just looking out for you, old friend."

"I know, and I love you for it, but I know the Old Ones just as well. They told me to back off when I had Jacques by the throat before and now he's out of control. A few more converts and there may be a new Order."

"That's what they're afraid of."

"Yes it is; but remember, Charlie, life is lived in bits, all decided on by our choices. Some bits come out better than others, and some are worth remembering over and over again because they were worth every minute." She brushed off her fingers and stood. There was nothing more to say that would make any difference to her actions so she wasn't prepared to waste the time. Even though time was something she had plenty of.

*  *  *

Kendal walked through the French Quarter as it came to life for another day of tourists and fun seekers. The restaurants all had trucks delivering various supplies in front of them blocking off a lane of traffic, and the bars were busy restocking from the night before. None of them were of interest to her as she walked in her usual brisk clip until she was at the other side of the neighborhood.

Here the buildings were more run down, not by time, but by abuse and apathy. It was the rougher sections that drove the crime statistics in the city every year, but nestled in the middle of all the decay were the St. Louis Cemeteries I and II. Cities to the dead that stood silent witness to all that had happened to make New Orleans the place it had become. Along the rows of raised tombs politicians rested along side criminals and some of the city's founders. There were firemen, policemen and other heroes lying close to prostitutes and witches. Here it didn't matter what you were, only that you ended up in the same place. Dead.

The Christians were fond of saying ‘from dust you came and dust you shall become.' True. The cycle of life had been the same for as long as anything had drawn breath on the earth. You lived, how well was up to you, and then you died. There was no escape. The monuments she passed were testament to that.

It was a shame really, that the beauty people wasted on the dead lay almost forgotten by the living. The two cemeteries were full now and in such a bad neighborhood, going to tend the graves was taking a gamble with your safety or life. Kendal walked until she reached the center of St. Louis I. The brick tomb looked old, and in fact it was. It was the oldest in the two locations but unlike some of the others it was well tended. There were fresh flowers, and the headstone mortared in place was still readable.

Angelina du'Pon. My beloved.

Simple words for a beautiful woman, but they are still true. You are never far from my thoughts. The sentiment was always the same as Kendal ran her fingers along the marble etchings of the name. She bowed and put a bunch of camellias in the right vase that stood empty. The only time the vessel held flowers was when she visited the grave. The other to the left was always full of fresh flowers left by the caretaker.

"Angelina, love, it's been awhile but I'm back. There are no words to begin to tell you how sorry I am for all that happened to you. Death is an inevitability everyone must face, but for you it came much too early." Kendal spoke softly and brushed away a few leaves that had come to rest at the base of the tomb.

"Look, master, we're home." Lionel pointed an excited finger at the little boys running along the shore of the river as the big boat was guided to the docks. For the most part, a majority of the other vessels in the port were being loaded for whatever journeys awaited them.

"Yes, we are and it looks like the Fall Festival will have nothing but miserable weather this year. It makes me glad to have some excuse to bypass it this year and head straight home." Jacques was glad for the cloak and hat he was wearing since the cold rain had been falling steadily since they had left their rooms.

The slave took his eyes off the precious solid land and studied his owner. "You know if you went to some of these things, maybe you'd find a nice young lady to give you those sons to teach things to."

"I have you to teach things to, Lionel, so I don't need anyone else. Maybe in another lifetime I'll have time for women, but in this one I'm having too much fun building. It's been ages since I've concentrated on just doing that."

Master St. Louis was a strange creature at times, but Lionel brushed it off as a language barrier he maybe didn't grasp. His French was good but maybe "lifetimes" meant something different like "years" to him, because everyone knew you only got one life to live. "Look there's Joseph with the coach."

Their boots sounded heavy on the wooden planks of the dock, but that was about to come to an end as they headed to the muddy street. From the looks of the ruts it had been raining for days and there was no end in sight as a gentle mist still fell making matters just that much messier.

"Master St. Louis, did you have a good trip, sir?" Joseph took his hat off as he greeted Jacques then embraced Lionel. The two had formed a close friendship after coming to live at Oakgrove and Joseph had missed him terribly.

"It was fine, Joseph. Your mother didn't give you too hard a time getting here did she?" Everyone on Oakgrove was familiar with Joseph's mother, Lola. A big woman who ran Jacques' kitchens, and who from time to time told her owner exactly what he didn't want to hear, consequences be damned. Her only son Joseph was a bit simple, but there was no one more loyal under Jacques care.

"She made me promise not to leave the road for nothing, sir, and to tell you to get a move on when you stepped off that boat so she wouldn't worry. The other thing she said was not to make her come down here and get us." All three of them shared a laugh since each of them had been on the receiving end of Lola's wrath more than once.

"Then let's not keep the good woman waiting." Jacques was about to step on to his coach and take the reins when he heard a shriek of a very upset woman and the deep laugh of an amused man.

When he turned to see what the problem was, Jacques came close to laughing himself. In the middle of the street stood, what he presumed to be a young lady and her maid, covered in mud looking up at a driver whose team had obviously done the muddying. What was not amusing was the man not getting down to help the young lady and her companion whose packages were now scattered around their feet.

"Are you all right, mademoiselle?"

The deep voice made the young woman stop her glaring at the driver and turn to face whomever it belonged to. Below the rim of the planter's hat she found two blue eyes full of life along with a smile that could melt ice in the winter. She had heard of the astonishingly good looks, but thought their owner was out of the country.

"Are you hurt?" Jacques tried again.

"I'm sorry, it's just that this is so embarrassing. I really thought he would stop."

"You should get your head out your ass and watch where you're going. You're lucky all that hit you was mud," the driver helpfully added.

"Excuse me." Jacques moved the woman behind him and pulled the idiot off his seat. With one punch the two teeth he had left in his mouth were lying in the mud along with the parasol the maid had dropped. "I suggest you watch where you're going and how you talk to a lady, sir."

Both Joseph and Lionel tipped their hats up and watched as their master charmed the young woman who was undistinguishable under all the mud. "And he was just telling me how much fun he was having building things. Looks like he's having just as much fun playing hero," said Lionel.

"Is there somewhere I can drop you so you can get cleaned up?"

"I live on Rue Bastille if you don't mind." Her voice was soft and low making Jacques bend to be able to hear it. Despite the mud he could still smell her perfume and it made him wonder what was hidden under the filth.

"Please, it would be my pleasure."

Without being asked, Lionel and Joseph retrieved the ladies' packages and went to sit at the back of coach along side the supplies Joseph had picked up while he was in town. They both put a hand up to hide their smiles when Jacques helped the two women on board, holding on to the young woman's hand a little longer than was proper.

"Please forgive my bad manners, mademoiselle, my name is Jacques St. Louis."

With as much dignity as she could muster the young woman wiped her cheek only smearing the mud a little better along her face before answering. "Thank you for coming to our rescue, Monsieur St. Louis, I'm Angelina du'Pon and this is my maid Dee."

"No need to thank me, Miss du'Pon. After a long sail there's nothing more refreshing than escorting two lovely ladies home." If it hadn't been for the mud, Jacques would have been treated to two adorable blushes.

Their trip though the streets was made in silence. At the end of the block Angelina had named stood a good sized home with a wide porch and matching veranda along the second floor. Jacques again helped the two women down and escorted Angelina to her door.

"I hope the rest of your afternoon fairs better, dear lady. I'll leave you to the comfort of your bath."

With a surprisingly strong grip Angelina grabbed hold of Jacques' wet sleeve to keep him from leaving. "Please, Monsieur St. Louis, my uncle would be furious if I sent you away without offering you at least a drink for coming out of your way."

"Like I said, bringing you home wasn't a hardship, so payment of any kind isn't necessary."

"But I want you to stay." As she said it Jacques noticed how green the girl's eyes were and he was reminded of another woman he had admired long before. Since that lovely woman hadn't known he was alive much less in any position to return any of his affections, Jacques hadn't thought of her in years. But Angelina's eyes bore a strong resemblance to those he remembered from a place far away.

"Then I'll stay."

"Dee, get someone to see to Monsieur St. Louis and his men while I get cleaned up. Sir, I'm sure you'll find my uncle's study a comfortable place to wait. Or would you like a room to change into something dry?"

"The study will be fine. We have to be getting home before too long, but I promise to wait until you're done."

Jacques pointed Lionel and Joseph to a small table with four wooden chairs in the room where the servant escorted them. The upholstered couches weren't a wise choice with soaked clothes. All three sat with a cup of coffee before them and their hats in their laps. Whomever Angelina's uncle was the man loved to read if his bookshelves were any indication. Row after row of leather bound editions lined the room, and the worn bindings were a sign the books weren't just for decoration.

They spent close to a couple of hours catching up with Joseph on the plantation's progress in their absence. The three had stripped down to their shirts and vests when the wool of their jackets had started to itch in the warm room. A clearing of a very feminine voice made them almost comically jump to their feet.

The Marquis's first look at a freshly bathed Angelina was almost as comical when he did a fair impression of a catfish out of water. "My apologies for taking so long, Monsieur St. Louis. I had mud in places that surprised even my maid."

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a style that let the curls the maid had set cascade past Angelina's shoulders. That alone was eye catching enough, but the young woman was stunning. Only a few times in Jacques' life had he looked upon a face so beautiful. "A gentleman never minds waiting on a lady, Mademoiselle du'Pon."

"A rescuer of maidens and a charmer, it seems my mud bath has brought me nothing but good fortune, Monsieur St. Louis."

"Actually, my dear, it's Marquis St. Louis of Oakgrove, and by all accounts he is the epitome of a gentleman, if not a bit of a recluse. Leave it to you to pull the bear from his cave." The elderly gentleman leaned heavily on a cane as the doorman helped him off with his overcoat. "What mischief were you out creating today that you've come home with such a distinguished guest?"

"Uncle Tomas, I'll have you know this wasn't my fault, and Marquis St. Louis, forgive me for not using your title."

With his hand out, Jacques walked toward the teasing old man with eyes the color of his niece's to offer a greeting. "Monsieur and Mademoiselle du'Pon, forgive me for not calling on the two of you earlier. I've been enjoying the gazette you're putting out, Monsieur du'Pon. Reading about the goings on around town makes me feel less hermit-like. I should have recognized the name when we met, Mademoiselle du'Pon."

"I'm an old hen who loves to gossip and found a way to make a living at it, what can I say. Please sit and let's share something stronger than coffee. This weather makes my bad hip crave a good glass of whiskey." Tomas insisted on the softer couches and a now dry Jacques acquiesced. The old man accepted a glass from his niece who then handed one to their guest.

"To good fortune then," toasted Jacques as he tapped his glass against Tomas's.

"Good fortune indeed. Perhaps I can pry some juicy tidbits from the reclusive Marquis for my next editorial. I won't be able to print enough copies for the ladies dying to know about you." Jacques laughed at the gentle teasing, taking an instant liking to the somewhat flamboyant man. "What do you say, Marquis St. Louis, are you up for an interview? The reading public is dying to know what bait to use to lure so charming and successful a fish."

"Please call me Jacques, and I don't think my life is all that interesting. Perhaps a more entertaining piece would center around young ladies and mud," answered Jacques with a smile for Angelina who shot him a teasing glare. "I'm sorry, Mademoiselle du'Pon, I couldn't resist. If you will both forgive my hasty departure, we must be going." He finished his drink and stood motioning for Tomas to keep his seat. "Thank you both for a delightful afternoon. I really enjoyed meeting you, but I have to be getting on the road home before this weather gets any worse."

"Could I entice you with a dinner invitation this Friday? Finding such good company to share equally good conversation with is hard these days. I promise to stick to safe topics," offered Tomas.

"Thank you, I look forward to it."

Angelina followed Jacques to the door and watched as Lionel and Joseph tipped their hats and headed to the coach. "Thank you for humoring him. My uncle can be a handful when he sets his mind to it."

"Believe me, this is the most fun I've had in ages."

"Then perhaps Uncle Tomas is right and you need to get out more, Marquis St. Louis."

"Would it be forward of me to ask you to call me Jacques?"

"Only if I could convince you I prefer Angelina to Mademoiselle du'Pon."

"Touché," said Jacques with a deep bow getting his verbal sparring partner to laugh.

"Shall we expect you this Friday night?"

Tucking his gloves into his belt Jacques moved slowly to take Angelina's hand. When she didn't move away from him he bowed again and placed a chaste kiss along her fingers. "I shall count the hours."

After her uncle's riding accident it had been awhile since boots had sounded so heavily walking away from the house, and Angelina stood by the front window to watch him walk to the street. Most eligible young women considered Jacques St. Louis a catch, but she wondered if any of them knew how sweet the good looking man was. Her hand was still tingling where he had pressed his lips, and to add to that, he knew exactly what to say to make her feel special.

Angelina du'Pon was considered a prize catch in her own right, especially for any young man wanting to make a name in the growing city. Tomas had raised her from an early age after her parents were lost to malaria in one of the epidemics that had ravaged the city. Being a man of considerable means, Tomas du'Pon had given in to her every whim and Angelina thrived under the attention. She hadn't become insufferable as had so many in the same social circles. What hadn't come to pass was Angelina finding love, or even some nice young man to spend time with. Tomas chided her that she was too picky since she would never find another like him, and maybe that was a good thing. One Tomas du'Pon in a lifetime was enough he would tease her.

The Marquis St. Louis was different. She could envision spending days on end in his company and never growing bored. There was a gentleness to his nature that was hard to describe but she had seen it in his face standing in the middle of a muddy street defending her honor. Angelina's interest in getting to know him better had nothing to do with informing the reading public and everything to do with her own curiosity. Jacques had a story to tell and it was her new mission to find out what it was.

"Sleep well, my darling, and know I've never forgotten you." Kendal stood and brushed the dirt off her knees.

"How sweet, but you're talking to a woman who's been dead for a long time, idiot."

There were two of them and the younger one was holding a rusty looking 9mm. Two punks trying their hardest to look like the bad asses they wanted to grow up to be. It was the older one who was doing all the talking.

"I can't really see where it's bothering anyone." Kendal swept her arms around the almost deserted cemetery. To their extreme annoyance she didn't look too intimidated by the fact they had a gun pointed at her head.

"You're not from around here are you?"

"I've spent time in New Orleans, but it's been awhile." She widened her stance a little and calmly put her hands in the pockets of her coat.

"See there's a fee now when you come in here. My friend and I own this place and no one gets in for free. Get me?" The kid holding the gun laughed stupidly at his friend's cleverness with words.

"A toll of some sort, is that what you mean?"

"It means, bitch, that I'll take whatever you got on you." The unarmed punk stepped closer and twisted his face into a snarl. "Give me your money and your jewelry now or my pal blows your head off."

The only thing she was attached to was the signet ring she wore on her right hand. It had been her father's and had been a gift to her shortly before he died. The rest was replaceable but Kendal thought of all the other visitors who had run into her new friends while they were trying to visit their loved ones. "Money and jewelry, right?"

"What you got a hearing problem? Hand them over and we make this easy. Play hard to get and me and Zeke here get to have a little fun too. We might do that anyway since it looks like you could use a good man in your life. You look like a big dyke." He grabbed his crotch and smiled back at his friend. The messing around with the people they robbed was almost as good as the shit they took.

"Can I make a counter offer?"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, you told me what you want, now I get to tell you what I'm willing to do and what I want."

"You see yourself as having choices here?"

Kendal rocked on her heels and smiled like she was negotiating the buying of a pair of pants. "One always has choices, young man. You chose to walk in here and point a gun at me. No one forced you to do that, and no one is forcing me to do anything I'm not willing to do. See I was in here paying respects to someone who lost their life to someone just like you, but you're still young. There's time to turn your life around as it were."

"You smokin' something, bitch? If you are we'll take that too, along with the money and that nice watch and ring."

The relaxed woman kept her right hand in the pocket of her coat and slipped the other one into the front pocket of her pants. When she pulled out the money clip she laughed at the low whistle the talker let out. In her hand was probably more than the two had ever made combined in all their crime ventures. "This what you want?"

It was greed that made him move forward, into a web from where there was no escape. Not that distance would have made the difference for him. When he went to take his booty Kendal pulled her right hand out of her coat pocket and snapped open a wicked looking switchblade. Just as quickly the money was back in her pocket and the blade was pressed so hard against the young throat it was drawing a line of blood.

"What's your name, piss ant?" She grabbed the top of his head exposing more of his neck. "Never mind, you look like a piss ant to me so consider it your new name."

"Please," the plea came out as a whisper as the mugger stood on his toes to try and get away from the sharp blade.

"Please what? Please let me go, bitch. Is that the only inane thing you can think to say?" The gunman hadn't lowered his weapon and looked like he was trying to decide if he could get a clean shot off without killing his buddy. "Zeke, is it?" asked Kendal looking up at the armed thief. "You have one chance to put that down and run. Don't make me have to deal with you."

His hand shook but Zeke figured he had the gun. All she had was a knife. "Let him go or I'll shoot."

"Another mental giant I see." Tired of the game she kicked the guy she was holding in the legs and threw the knife at Zeke in one fluid motion. The thump of the air rushing out of the talker's lungs came simultaneously with Zeke's scream. The gun was now on the ground at his feet and Kendal's knife was buried to the hilt in his palm.

"Who are you?" asked the man looking up at her.

"Someone you shouldn't have fucked with, piss ant." Kendal stepped closer to Zeke and grabbed his injured hand. With one quick pull she retrieved her blade and wiped it along his cheek. The effect was chilling and he swallowed his screams lest she think to start carving up his face. "Only a miserable low life would think to rob someone in a place reserved for grief. Today's going to be your chance to turn to a better way of life, because trust me you two. Death doesn't pass you by very often."

"You're some kind of demon," said Zeke. He looked like a macabre clown with his red colored cheeks.

"No, I've known a few of those in my time and I'm nowhere close. What I am is faster, stronger and smarter than you'll ever hope to be so get lost." Zeke rushed to follow her order as he jumped to his feet and took off giving no thought to his buddy. She watched him go and moved to pick up the gun he had left behind. With one quick check of the clip she saw it was full. It hadn't been fired recently.

The talker was on his knees holding his throat after he had noticed the blood. Things had never turned out like this for them in all the other times they had robbed anyone here. Despite the cold he started to sweat when she cocked the hammer and pressed the barrel to his forehead. Familiar with the gun and its hair trigger, death was just a soft pull away.

"You let Zeke go."

"I have a feeling it was you who talked Zeke into being here today, so you don't get off so easily. Am I right about Zeke?" When there was no response she pushed the barrel harder against his forehead getting him to nod.

"I didn't want to come by myself."

"A wise ass who needs someone else to do his dirty work for him will never truly be a man. In some cultures they would've cut your dick off and fed it to the real warriors, piss ant." The gun moved from his head and was now pointed at his crotch. When she didn't move the gun she got a satisfying feeling as she watched the growing wet spot. Not so tough now are you? "Did you really think you were man enough to take me? Or maybe the question should be, will you walk out of here a man at all?"

Big tears full of fear ran down his face and still Kendal didn't back down. "I didn't mean nothing."

"It's, I didn't mean anything, stupid," she corrected. "Tell me, piss ant, did it move you to walk away from a victim when someone cried for you to stop? Tell the truth or I'll blow that little pecker of yours right off."

"No," came the stuttered response.

"How about a nice dirt nap to reconsider your options next time then?"

He never got a chance to ask her what she meant. In an instant his world went dark. When he woke up anyone walking by the place crossed the street because of the screams. The talker had come to in a large mausoleum used by the city for paupers with no means for a proper burial. He was lying on a pile of bones with no way out.

*  *  *

"Where have you been?" Bruce was waiting in her suite when she walked in. The night before had ended well. Most of the Zoning Commission had been in attendance and that would bode well for them in the coming weeks.

"Reminiscing, Bruce, you should try it every so often. It's rather relaxing. I had some things to think about so I went for a walk." She dropped her coat on the sofa and her jacket on the bed, as Bruce followed her into the bedroom. He turned around when the shirt came out of her pants. He knew he had no chance with Kendal no matter how attractive he found her. She had made that clear from the beginning of their business relationship.

"For fifteen hours?" He sounded frustrated as always. "I covered for you, but is this going to be a common occurrence during this trip for you to disappear on me for hours on end? My father told me your family has some weird connection to this place, but this is business. You don't want to end up like your old man and mine do you? Loading ships down on the docks isn't my idea of a wise career move if we lose our asses in this deal."

"Stick with what you know and wait for me in the other room."

Bruce knew he had pushed too far but he couldn't pull this one off by himself and losing meant giving up the millions of dollars that would come with snapping up Dupont Industries. The money was making him forget his place and his long talk with his father before leaving New York. Kendal Mackey was not someone who took orders from anyone. It had been the same when Bruce Senior had grown up with Kendal's dad, Tony.

A shower and a new suit later, Kendal looked like she had spent the evening sleeping in the comfortable looking bed instead of roaming the streets. Bruce wished he could get by with so little sleep and still function. His father had said the same thing about Tony when they had worked together.

"Is the old man coming today?" asked Kendal as they stepped into the elevator.

"If there's one thing Macarthur Dupont wants more than anything it's to hang on to his family's business. He'll be there and I'm sure he's bringing his granddaughter, Piper. She's a Harvard Business School graduate who he's grooming to take over for him so don't try anything cute. I hear she's a real ball buster."

Her low laugh always gave Bruce goose bumps. "Lucky for me then," she whispered in his hear. The voice was as equally seductive. "And Piper not only graduated from Harvard, she was first in both her under graduate and graduate classes. She' not a ball buster, Bruce, she's just smarter than most of the people who have a pair. So maybe it's you who shouldn't try anything today."

The lunch crowd was starting to filter into the Palace Café on Canal Street when Bruce and Kendal got out of the limousine the hotel had provided for the ten block drive. They stood back and let an older couple go through the revolving doors ahead of them, not in any hurry since they were a couple of minutes early. One of the attractive hostesses took their coats and asked for their names.

"We're here to meet the Dupont party." Kendal smiled getting the girl to trip over her feet. Behind her Bruce thought once again how unfair life was when it came to his boss and women. When they were handing out physical traits, characteristics and talent before birth Kendal had obviously stood in each line at least twice. It was the only way to explain her looks, charm, brains and physique.

"Mr. Mac's expecting you. Kendal Mackey, right?"

"The one and only," answered Kendal, getting the woman to blush and giggle.

"Right this way." The young woman led them to the staircase at the center of the restaurant. On the second floor at a window seat sat their adversaries.

"Mr. Mac, your party's here."

"More like the invading hoard, darlin', but we'll let ‘em join us anyway." The old man stood and studied Kendal before offering his hand in greeting.

Mac Dupont was in his early seventies but still ran around like he did in his thirties. Thick white hair framed an intelligent face and a warm smile, which more often that not was a constant fixture. He was often described as a likable good old boy who would give you his last dollar if you needed the help. He was also as ruthless as Kendal if the right business venture came along so she didn't let his friendly welcome fool her into thinking he was going down without a fight.

Beside Mac sat a small woman with a short shaggy haircut that could only be described as stylish, with a slight frown marring her beautiful profile. For a split second Kendal was amused with the obvious displeasure the woman was projecting. It was as if they had taken her away from something far more important like watching her grass grow.

"Mr. Dupont, It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Thank you for joining us today," started Kendal. She and the old man shook hands but his granddaughter had yet to turn her attention from the window. "This is my associate Bruce Babagge."

"More like hired henchman," hissed Piper.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Kendal. I can call you Kendal can't I?" asked Mac, ignoring Piper's rude comment.

"Please do."

"Good, this is my granddaughter Piper Dupont." When he made the introduction Piper had no choice but to face forward. When she did Kendal stumbled forward a step and turned pale.

Most people would have expressed concerns at Kendal's reaction, but any sympathy was drowned out by Piper's anger. "I wish I could say it's a pleasure, but I'd hate to lie, Ms. Mackey."

She wanted to run. Piper Dupont was like looking at the sister of a ghost. Different in so many ways but the hair color and the eyes were almost identical. "I…" her voice died in her throat.

"Are you all right?" asked Mac. He placed his hand on Kendal's shoulder thinking she looked close to collapse.

His question was a lifeline that allowed Kendal to take her eyes off Piper and focus on something else. "I hate to be rude, but would you excuse me for a moment?"

"Would you like to reschedule? You don't look well."

"No, sir, please give me just a moment. I'll be fine." In the restroom Kendal stripped off her jacket then splashed water on her face. What had just happened had been along the lines of a panic attack. As shocking as that was, she was almost excited since it had been years since she had felt anything nearly as intense.

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Mac again when she made it back to the table.

"I'm fine. Just hungry I guess." Keeping her eyes on Mac's face, Kendal sat, unfurled her napkin and placed it on her lap. "Shall we order something before starting our talk?"

"Might I suggest the turtle soup, it's the best in the city."

"Please, granddad, she's here to steal the company. I could give a rat's ass what she wants to eat." Piper didn't bother to keep her voice down this time.

"Kendal, would you mind excusing us for a moment? I'd like a word with my granddaughter."

"Please take your time, though I'm guessing no amount of lecturing is going to change Miss Dupont's mind, so why bother? Save yourself a trip to the woodshed, Mr. Dupont, she's right. That's why I'm here, but what she should realize is if it weren't me sitting here, it would be someone else. Dupont Enterprises has come to the sad reality of being worth more in parts than as a whole. It's no one's fault; it's just the way of the business world. Your good fortune is that it's me sitting here instead of someone who just wants to outright plunder what's taken your family generations to build. With me you'll get fair market value."

"What, pennies on the dollar? Should I kiss your ass now or wait until you hand us the big check?" asked Piper.

"Thank you, Mr. Dupont for your suggestion on the soup. I'll try it the next time I'm in here." Kendal stood and shook his hand again getting Bruce to jump out of his chair like a trained monkey.

Kendal then leaned across the table and rested her weight on her fingers so she could better look down on Piper Dupont. "Miss Dupont, I came here to see if there was something we could work out. I'm sorry you see it as a waste of time. Go ahead and cut what you think is your best deal with Kenny Delaney and his group, but before you do, take that expensive education your grandfather paid for out for a spin. Call Quill Contractors as if you work for Delaney and his group. Tell them to fax over the preliminary quotes so you can work on different sections of the contract having to do with the Dupont deal. You'll be surprised what comes over the machine. Could be Kenny screwed you over in more ways than one."

With every word Piper turned a deeper shade of red. "You bitch."

"True, but I'm an upfront one. I don't use my bed to cut deals unless everyone knows the score, and any screwing that takes place is just for mutual enjoyment." The woman might have looked like someone Kendal cared about, but her heart was what set them apart. "I'm sorry to speak so crudely, Mr. Dupont. Perhaps we weren't meant to do business together after all. Have a pleasant lunch, and it was a real pleasure meeting you. I've admired your style for years."

"Wait, let's all calm down and start over."

Kendal patted his arm and shook her head. The things she'd heard about him were true. Mac was extremely likable but this wasn't the time to sit and get to know each other. "I'm always calm, Mr. Dupont, but sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, and this is one of those times." She then turned and looked at Piper again. "Miss Dupont, I wish I could say it's been a pleasure. Well you know the rest. Tell Kenny hello for me, after you get that paperwork I suggested. We go way back."

"You can not just walk away and leave this hanging," said Bruce as soon as they were on the streets.

"I can do anything I want, try and remember that. The day you hand out a card that says Babagge Inc. then you get to do whatever you like. Now we just walk away and wait. Blondie's about to find out Kenny Delaney is as greasy as his hair. After a long shower she'll be calling us. Have faith, Bruce."

"What choice do I have?"

"Endless. There is always the defense of drunks and hookers. You did go to law school after all, since dock work isn't your thing."

He gave her an insincere smile and cocked his fist at her. "You're a riot you know that?"

"It's just part of my charm."

"Want to head back to the hotel and grab a bite?"

"You go ahead. I think I'll resume my walk." She was down the block before he could ask to join her. Bruce often wondered what was so interesting to look at or think about on all the long walks Kendal took.

"Free for lunch?" she asked the person on the other end of the line as soon as it stopped ringing.

"Where would you like to go?"

"It's your city, you pick." He was already seated when she walked up and laughed at the huge piece of bread Charlie was able to shove in his mouth.

"You're still a pig, old friend."

"You'd think you'd have learned by now to stop hanging around with me," Charlie joked. It was nice to convert back to the old French. Except for tourists and pretty college students he rarely got to practice anymore.

"Obviously age doesn't make all of us wiser." Kendal sat and poured her favorite brand of beer into the frosted mug sitting on the table waiting for her.

"How old are you now anyway?" Charlie broke off another piece of bread and stopped to put butter on it this time.

"A little over two thousand years, give or take a few decades. After awhile the excitement of birthdays wears off."

"Mon Dieu, there are pyramids younger than you."

"Gods, why do I call you to spend time with?"

"Because after almost three hundred years you still see potential."

"Or it could be that after I gave you the gift of immortality I can't kill you," teased Kendal.

"I missed you, Kendal." His eyes filled with tears and he reached across the table for her hand. Charlie was one of the few people in her life who had been so affectionate with her in a way that had nothing to do with seduction or romance. "Though that name doesn't quite suit you."

"And Charlie was your best effort?" She arched a brow and smiled.

"To me you will always be Jacques St. Louis and in my heart I will always be Lionel."

"Of all my lifetimes that's the one that holds the greatest mix of memories, and it's the one that's still unfinished even after all these years. It's the reason I came back. I hope you know I left because I had to, not because I didn't care about what happened. I still weep when I think of the injustice the Order let Henri get away with."

Lionel squeezed her hand one last time before leaning back in his chair. "I know, and it was the reason I took what you were offering. As much as I didn't want to live after what happened, I'm glad I've lived to see this day. I know you always work alone, but this time I want to be there if only to watch. I don't have to tell you why."

"No you don't, but let me sleep on it."

He laughed and pointed a finger at her. "I may be waiting awhile then. When was the last time you slept?"

She laughed as well and put her hand over her eyes. "I think it was after I left this city. I slept for about fifty years in an effort to forget. After that I spent a couple of hundred years in the east studying the way of the warrior."

"You were born with the heart of a warrior. What can anyone teach, that you don't already know?"

"The wonderful thing about living is you never grow too old to learn. You're just a youngster, Lionel. You should spend some time away from here. Expand your horizons a little and stop thinking so much about the past. I spend years at time in places so I can learn the language, the culture and the art of how they wage war. In the mountains with some of the masters of the eastern clans I learned to master the sword." Kendal leaned back so the waiter could put some dishes down.

"You're full of shit, my friend, I've seen you handle a sword. You're the one who's the master."

The spring rolls looked good so Kendal picked one up and took a bite. Food wasn't something she really needed to survive anymore but it was something she craved. In some ways it was a lot like sex. If she saw a woman who interested her, she spent the evening with her. Then it was off to the next bit of fluff. Long-term relationships weren't of any use to her, since in reality, who could outlast her?

"They helped with a number of things. No one is ever perfect, nor is anyone a true expert at anything no matter how hard we try. We all have flaws and ways to be brought down."

"Is that why you stashed all the money and went to college as the poor and starving Kendal Mackey? To find more ways to perfect yourself and smooth over your flaws?"

She finished the spring roll and moved on to some dumplings the man had brought out. "I have to admit you've become a better conversationalist with time, Lionel. I'm glad to see the timid mouse afraid to ask questions is gone. And to answer your question, no I didn't seek answers to questions that have none. I went because I felt I was losing touch with where the world is headed. Where better to find directions than from the young and overly opinionated?"

"And what has Kendal Mackey learned?"

"That there are a lot of really good looking women hanging out on college campuses." He looked at her as he started in on his lunch but couldn't comment without spitting something out on her. "I'm kidding. It was just a diversion and I wanted to hone my survival skills. I went, I conquered and I made more money."

"Not that you need it."

"No but it helps for those lives when I just want to bum around and drink wine all day."

"But hasn't this been the lifetime you've been waiting for?"

It was an interesting question thought Kendal, but which of them was more qualified to answer? She was much older in years and in wisdom but Lionel had matured much faster than she had. His growth came from a combination of intelligence and good tutelage. Kendal had been gone for close to three hundred years but she had never abandoned Lionel and his teachings.

"You'd think after so many days there'd be nothing I look forward to anymore, but you'd be wrong. I look forward to the moment the sun rises everyday, and everyday I sit in wonder of the world and my part in it. Do I look forward to some tasks more than others? I do, especially if it avenges the souls of the innocent." The waitress came and put down two fresh mugs and bottles of beer after she cleared the appetizer dishes.

"Are you going to stay in the city?"

"For a few days. I've other business aside from Henri and his collection of fools. I'm sorry, I'll have to get used to calling him Jacques now. We can both guess why he picked it this time around. We all have our flaws, my brother just likes to remind us of them in every subtle way he can." She shook her head as if to clear off any morose thoughts. "I want you to promise me something, Lionel." It was Kendal who reached for his hand as she spoke.

"There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you, Jacques. Just ask."

"I want you to retreat into the cathedral until I call for you. Henri's left you in peace because he doesn't see you as a threat, but my being here is going to change that. I don't want to be worried about you along with everything else."

Her grip was too strong for him to break away from, and his anger made him want to. "You promised you'd consider letting me stand with you. I deserve that from you."

"I haven't promised anything yet, but I will if you swear to stay safe until I come for you. You have my word I won't do anything without you."

Lionel held his hand out knowing she would never break an oath. "Swear it."

"On the spirit of my father." She took his hand and sealed their fate.

"After you finish your business are you planning to go to the house? I had it cleaned when I heard you were coming."

"I look forward to it, merci."

*  *  *

"I don't have time for lunch, granddad. In case you weren't paying attention, the bitch who just waltzed out of here is trying to rip us off." Piper was dying to leave the restaurant and go back to her office. She wanted to make a few phone calls and prove Kendal Mackey wrong. Sanctimonious bitch thought Piper. She figured the old man had heard enough cursing for one afternoon so she kept the comment to herself.

"Sit your pretty little ass down, young lady, and tell this nice young woman what you want," ordered Mac, referring to the waitress.

"I really need to go."

"What you need to do is listen to the old coot who's still your boss." Mac pointed to her chair and waited for Piper to sit. "You want to tell me what the hell that display was about?"

As she had learned to do when she was about six months old, Piper crossed her arms and looked like she was trying to decide between throwing a fit or pouting. "I've just read so much about this woman and what she's capable of, it makes me mad that it's us she's got her eye on. I don't think whatever we do we're going to come out of this the same."

"And if given the choice you prefer to form an alliance with Kenny Delaney?"

"Kenny promised we would keep control of the company so we'd have a chance to restructure. Once I'm able to do that, we can buy him and his partners out and tell the world to go to hell."

Mac nodded and took a sip of his whiskey. "Any truth to what she said to you before she left?"

Any thought of anger died away and Piper was mortified with the thought of having to answer. "I…"

"I don't want to know who you're sweet on, Piper, I want to know if this guy is on the up and up."

The blonde smiled at her grandfather's old fashioned notions, or maybe that's what he let himself think so he wouldn't have to face the reality of his little girl actually sleeping with someone. "I promise you, we can trust Kenny."

The wait staff put down a fresh loaf of French bread and two bowls of turtle soup. Along side each plate a small shot glass of sherry was put down to mix with the soup to accentuate the flavor. Mac picked up his spoon and looked at Piper before starting. "I hope you're right. The way I figure it, I got one foot in the grave so if the worse case scenario comes to pass I won't have to live with it long. You on the other hand have years to look forward to. If this boy isn't all he's promising, you've got a lot to lose." He mixed in the liquor in slow circles as if lost in thought.

"Don't you trust me?"

"With my life and everything that makes it up." Mack reached over and put his hand on Piper's cheek. "I'm not worried about me, sweet girl, I'm worried about you. Dupont Enterprises belongs to you now, and I have every faith you'll do right by it."

"But you think I made a mistake with Mackey today don't you?"

"You should give someone the opportunity to show their cards before you go claiming they're cheating. Once they lay out what they got to say, then you scream and walk out if that's what you got a mind to do. If Kendal had something in mind, other than taking us over and selling us off in little pieces, we won't ever know, will we?"

They ate in silence after that. Mac wasn't a man prone to outburst unless provoked and he didn't lecture Piper very often. She was the only daughter of his only son and Mac hadn't considered anyone else to replace him at the helm from the time Piper turned twenty. She had inherited her grandmother's good looks and Mac's business savvy making for one lethal combination for success. Whoever Piper partnered up with it was a relationship she was in control of. The girl wasn't one to be used.

"Anything else, Mr. Mac?" asked the waitress.

"Just the check, darlin'."

"It's been taken care of, sir. Ms. Mackey took care of it before she left."

"The tip even?"

"Yes, sir, and don't worry she was very generous. Have a great day."

"She may be the enemy, but she's got style, you gotta give her that," said Mac as he pulled Piper's chair out for her.

As soon as they were in the lobby of their building Piper pulled out her phone and had her assistant, Amy finding the number for Quill. Amy knew some of the receptionists at the construction company and it was those connections Piper needed now. She gave Amy the name of the Delaney Group's attorneys and she had faith her girl would know what to do.

When she stepped into the suite where she and her grandfather's offices were located, Amy was having a conversation with the weakest link in the chain at Quill. She was doing a fabulous job at changing her voice to avoid being recognized, acting as if she was one of the secretaries at the law firm. A few moments later she hung up and the fax machine started humming.

The strangled scream Piper let out when she scanned over the first few pages made everyone want to hide under the desk. Someone was in trouble and they could only hope they weren't going to be on the receiving end of the tirade that was about to erupt.

*  *  *

"So what do you want to do?" asked Bruce. They were in the hotel bar watching the sun go down on the city. After Kendal's lunch with Charlie she had returned in a somber mood. There was a lot to get done on this trip and if things turned out badly she would have to abandon her life as Kendal Mackey and find a new identity. The only positive side to that might be creating a new persona that would keep her in New Orleans for a while.

"I'll give Mr. Dupont another couple of weeks or so then I'll turn you loose on them. That alone should scare them back to the negotiating table. Why don't you go and get something to eat? You're in the most culinary delightful city in the country, Bruce. Live a little."

He turned his wineglass in his hands and looked a bit lost. "I hate eating alone."

"I promise I'll join you tomorrow, but tonight I want to spend some time alone."

"Anything I can do? I'm here to listen if you need a friend."

Kendal laughed and slapped his shoulder before draining her scotch. "Who are you, Dr. Phil now?"

"I just care about what happens to you."

"I know, Bruce, and I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my mind and sometimes it doesn't really help to talk about it. It's just better for me to think it through. Go on and have dinner. I hear the turtle soup at the Palace is good." They both laughed over their disastrous lunch that wasn't before shaking hands and parting. Kendal watched the small man walk to the exit before calling the bartender over with another drink.

She caught up with Bruce at the elevators after she thought of something, knowing he would take her advice to venture out for dinner. "Would you do something for me if I asked you to, without asking me a lot of questions in return?"

"Sure. You change your mind about talking?"

She pulled a chain with a small medallion out of her jacket pocket and held it up for him to see. "I want you to wear this and don't take it off while we're in the city. Promise me you won't take it off."

Bruce laid the likeness of St. Michael on his palm and looked at it closely. The archangel had his sword drawn and had the devil under his foot ready to strike. "What, you're getting superstitious on me?"

"Promise me you won't take it off, especially if you leave the hotel after dark. It's important to me." She slipped the chain over his head and dropped the medallion down the front of his shirt so it rested against his chest.

"Why?"

"Because it marks you as belonging to me. Don't ask me to explain that because I can't, but it means something special to me, something others will understand."

"Are you sure you don't need to lie down or something? You're talking crazy." He reached as if to feel her forehead for fever.

"Bruce, has your father ever told you anything about my father?" She looked into his eyes as if daring him to lie. "Anything that he found hard to explain?"

"He just said your father was his best friend and then one day he left and never came back. Dad just said he always felt protected when he was with Tony. Like nothing could ever happen to him. He still misses him like crazy, but he still gets regular letters from him." It hit him then.

The last time he and his father had spent any time together. His father was out working in the small garden he tended every year. It was something to keep him out of the house and not drive his mother insane when he had retired. During Bruce's last visit it had been so hot and he sat in the shade and watched as his old man pulled weeds away from his precious tomato plants. The heat had pushed his father to unbutton his shirt in an effort to stay cool. There had been a medallion hanging around his neck he didn't remember him wearing when Bruce was a kid.

"The bond Tony and your father shared was special and in my father's absence to tend to other family business, it's one he misses as well." The relationship with two consecutive generations was something she rarely did, but Bruce Senior had asked Anthony Mackey to look out for his kid when he told him he was leaving. Bruce the elder may have been a dockworker all his life, but he seemed to be more aware of the world around him than his son.

Bruce senior hadn't been able to explain the shock when Bruce had brought her home for the first time after they'd gone into business together. Bruce couldn't explain it but he was happy for his son. It was his kid's chance to share a long friendship with the next Mackey generation and he wasn't going to poison that with questions. Kendal knew Bruce senior had figured it out, but the old man couldn't find in his rational brain how to explain it. He had just shaken her hand and whispered, "Welcome back."

"He has one of these doesn't he?" asked Bruce with his hand over his heart where the medal had come to rest.

"Anthony gave him one a long time ago."

"Are you and your father religious?"

The question struck her as funny and she let out a laugh. If he only knew the gods she still prayed to on occasion had existed long before the thought of Christianity was even a blip on mankind's radar. "Not really, but St. Michael became a family tradition a while back and it's tradition to gift him to people who mean a lot to us."

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome. So do you promise not to take it off?"

"I promise, Kendal. Especially if it means so much to you."

"It does." She put her hand over his on his chest before pressing the down button. "Go on, and have fun."

A fresh drink was waiting for her when Kendal got back and she nodded her head at the bartender in thanks. She unbuttoned her jacket and took her seat. The table she'd chosen was almost in a corner but still sat in front of a window facing the street. It was still too early for the after work crowd and the cigar bar was little subdued for the regular tourist, so aside from a few hushed conversations, Kendal sat in peace as she sipped.

"Would you care for a cigar, Ms. Mackey?" The bartender set another glass down noticing the one in her hand was half way finished. Everyone in the hotel knew who she was so the service had been excellent, but the man serving her drinks didn't usually pour so freely if there was a chance the person was driving. Ms. Mackey though, not only was staying in the hotel, but she didn't look the least bit inebriated even after four. "We have an excellent selection of Dominicans."

"Do you smoke?"

"Just cigarettes, ma'am. I never got used to cigars."

Kendal pulled out her wallet and placed a hundred dollar bill on the table. "I'll take a Cohiba, but it has to be Cuban. If I'm going to risk my health, might as well make it worth my while."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Mackey, Cuban cigars are illegal. We carry the brand, only the ones grown in the Dominican Republic."

She shrugged her shoulder and went to pick up the money. "I may get a free night now, asking for something you can't deliver. Guest satisfaction and all that."

The man smiled and pulled the travel humidifier out of his apron pocket. "Yes, ma'am, we take guest satisfaction very seriously. Enjoy." It looked like she wasn't the only one who did background checks on potential clients. The owner of the establishment took everything into account for a guest like Kendal.

"What's the old expression?"

"Here it's ask and you shall receive. It's a city wide motto," the waiter joked as he clipped the end for her and provided a light.

The smoke filled her senses and the taste was what made her remember the next part of Angelina's story. Kendal handed over the money wanting her privacy back.

"Don't forget to smile. Then maybe the girl will want to see you again," said Lola as Jacques mounted his horse."

Friday had come too soon and Jacques was trying hard to fight a case of nerves there was no explanation for. With his best suit and flowers in hand he saluted Lola and took off at a trot toward New Orleans. It was late afternoon when he knocked on the du'Pon's door suddenly very glad he'd come when it was Angelina who let him in.

"Marquis, how nice to see you again. I was hoping you hadn't run into any other maidens in need of rescue whom you might find more appealing."

"And miss an evening with you and your uncle, Mademoiselle du'Pon. I don't think there could be anyone more appealing to keep me away." He stood with one hand behind his back and his hat in the other.

Thanks to a clean face Jacques was able to enjoy the blush his words caused. Angelina was truly a vision in a pale blue dress that brought out the green of her eyes. "I'm beginning to think you like making me feel a bit off kilter, sir."

"And I believe you agreed to call me Jacques, Miss du'Pon. Or have you perhaps reconsidered?"

"I didn't forget, I just didn't want you to find me presumptuous." She leaned on the door and admired the man trying his best to charm her. Jacques St. Louis was in her opinion the most handsome man she had ever seen. "Would you like to come in, or would you have my uncle think I'm a bad hostess for keeping you confined to our porch?"

"I don't know, it might make good fodder for the next addition of his paper."

"I think I'm going to enjoy having you around, Jacques. That is if you grace us with your company in the future." She opened the door further to let him pass and smiled when his other hand revealed a beautiful bouquet of camellias. He followed her into the parlor of the house and blushed himself when Angelina gave him a full smile. "Are those for me, or did you wish to give them to my uncle?"

"I like Tomas, but before I left I cut these for you. I hope they are to your liking, Angelina."

"They're my favorites, thank you." The servant standing behind Angelina took the flowers from her and Jacques' hat before leaving them alone. "Please have a seat and I'll get you something to drink."

"Is Monsieur du'Pon not joining us this evening?"

"He sent word earlier that he's running late, so I'm afraid you'll have to make due with my company for the moment. I hope you don't mind." She poured two small glasses of sherry from the small bar and faced him.

"That's like asking a small boy if he would like another treat, I'm willing to bet the answer would always be the same. I just hope it's you who doesn't find the company lacking. Sometimes I feel I should get away from Oakgrove more often." Her fingers felt soft when they touched his as she handed him the glass.

"I'm sure both of our concerns are unwarranted. I've been looking forward to seeing you again. Would you tell me about Oakgrove?" asked Angelina taking a seat across from him. Smiling when he stood until she was seated.

The young woman enjoyed how animated he became as he spoke of his home. The sherry glass was placed on the side table since Jacques had a tendency to talk with his hands. Angelina was drawn into his story as he described the clearing of trees they had done and the irrigation system he'd devised using the river. Here was a man very different from the others who had come to settle the area. He had accomplished three times as much by rolling up his sleeves and working. The others had gotten others to do the work for them at the end of a whip.

"You sound like there isn't time enough in the day to get all you have planned done."

"I'm finding that the life of a farmer can be as fulfilling as that of a warrior or should I say soldier."

"Were you a soldier? In France I mean." She prayed her uncle would be later than he'd planned now that she had Jacques talking. There was no way she would betray his confidence by printing or spreading what he was saying further, but it was a good opportunity to learn more about the man who had fascinated people since his arrival.

"In a manner of speaking. Duty calls us to service at time, Angelina, whether we want it to or not. Here I've tried to create something I can look on years from now and be proud of. The only thing that bothers my heart is the growing slave trade."

"That sentiment won't make you a lot of friends here, Jacques. Whether you agree with the practice or not, those who wield the power will never give up the right to own others, not without a fight anyway."

He nodded and leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. "And what of you? What are your feelings on the subject?"

"I'm just a woman who owns nothing, Monsieur, no one cares what my opinion on the subject might be."

"I care."

"Then you are in the minority again."

He laughed thoroughly enjoying the conversation. Women like Angelina were rare; most of the ones he'd met in his time in New Orleans cared more about the latest fashions than the welfare of others. "I find that I usually am, but for the sake of making life more interesting, it's not a bad position."

"Then we are birds of a feather, Jacques. I feel any society that allows someone to own another human being cannot be blessed by God. It makes me so sad to see families torn apart on the block day after day."

"It makes me such a hypocrite I know since I legally own so many, but I never split up families and bought all of the ones who were related to my people. It isn't much, but I tried my best."

Angelina rose from her seat and reached for the decanter to refill Jacques' glass. When she was beside him she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed in soft affection. "Your best sounds like it's made a world of difference to them so you're no hypocrite in my eyes."

"Thank you, dear lady, that means a lot to me." She moved back when she heard the front door open and the tapping of her uncle's cane in the foyer.

"Ah, Jacques, you made it. Pardon me for being late but it was an exciting day at the paper. Has Angelina been keeping you company?"

"She just now let me in. I was barred to the yard until she saw your carriage down the street," joked Jacques.

"Oh you." Angelina stepped closer to Jacques again and slapped his arm in mock indignation. "Don't listen to a word this heathen tells you, Uncle Tomas. I've been nothing but the perfect hostess." She moved toward the older man and kissed his cheek in greeting. Her flirtatious behavior not lost on Tomas.

"Is she telling the truth?"

"About me being a heathen? Most definitely." His answer made them share the first of many laughs as the evening progressed. Jacques retold some of the stories he had shared with Angelina, but she listened with the same rapt attention. Before any of them wanted, the evening drew to a close and Tomas sent for Jacques' horse.

"I hope you join us again, young man. Perhaps you can find time again for us next Friday?" asked Tomas. He was willing to beg if only to see Angelina enjoy another evening like she had that night.

"I would enjoy seeing you both again," he included both of them in the statement but Jacques' eyes never strayed from Angelina's. "This week I'll actually be staying in town for a few days to make arrangements for the sugarcane harvest. Could I persuade you to join me for an evening out?"

"We'd love to," answered Angelina before Tomas got a chance.

For the rest of the year it was rare to not find Jacques sitting in the du'Pon's parlor enjoying a cigar with Tomas after dinner as Angelina did her needlepoint. Every so often she would interject some witty comment to scale down whatever the two men were arguing over. When the weather permitted Jacques would take Angelina for walks before their meal, always with a couple of trusted servants trailing behind as chaperones. After months, it wasn't an uncommon sight to find the two arm-in-arm lost in conversation as they strolled. Angelina had without effort become the envy of every single woman in the Louisiana Territory.

In the years since that special time Kendal had rarely found as good a verbal sparring partner as Tomas, and such a beguiling companion as his niece. The overwhelming sense of longing swamped her again as Kendal stubbed out the Cohiba in the ashtray. Tears, which for so long had been a memory, welled in her eyes again. I would give almost anything to see you again, love.

When Kendal focused she found Angelina's poor double sitting in the chair opposite hers with a strange expression on her face. To give her time to compose herself the bartender appeared and asked if Piper wanted anything. He seemed almost angry on Kendal's behalf that the small blonde had distributed her. There was something about Kendal that bordered on nobility.

"Come to finish your tirade, Miss Dupont?" It was Kendal who clipped the fresh cigar the young man had left to prepare it for smoking. A fresh drink had appeared along with it, and finding Piper had joined her made Kendal long for the days when any liquor actually had the ability to get her drunk.

"Actually I came to apologize. If you don't have me thrown out before I finish that is. I was rude earlier and there isn't any excuse for what I did or my behavior."

Kendal smiled around the expensive smoke and tried not to gloat. She might have given Mac all the money to salvage his empire just to have seen his granddaughter's face when she got the information on what Kenny Delaney had planned. From her research, Piper seldom mixed business with the inside of her bedroom, so in this instance she must have felt her situation was bleak. Those who'd been lucky enough to share her bed had played strictly by the blonde's rules.

"Your being here can only mean one of two things, or perhaps a combination of the two."

The triumphant tone of voice only fueled Piper's dislike for her opponent, only now she bit back the smart comeback that was dying to leave her mouth. "What's your guess?"

"Macarthur gave you a talking to after I left and you found a snake crawling in your bed." Kendal exhaled and blew first a large smoke ring followed by a smaller one that landed in the middle. "Am I on target?" A stream of smoke followed going straight through the center of the rings.

"I guess I don't even have to be here for this conversation if you know every goddamn thing there is to know." So much for iron control and keeping our mouth shut, Piper.

If Kendal was moved by the display of immaturity it didn't show. She just studied Piper with cool eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Do I have a choice?" Piper rolled her eyes and sounded hostile as she waited for Kendal to rub her face in her mistakes.

"Yes, you do, and so do I." Kendal stood, which sent the bartender running over. "Put it on my tab, Mr. Andrews. We're done."

"You're leaving?" asked Piper.

"Contrary to my reputation as a heartless shark, I don't enjoy playing with my prey. Nor do I enjoy the company of people who clearly detest everything about me. You hate me because I'm taking advantage of a business opportunity and I can understand and appreciate that. It doesn't however mean I'm going to sit here and take shit from you." Kendal leaned over the table like she had at their first meeting. "You want me gone from you life, fine. Consider it done. By tomorrow though you'll have ten other sharks circling the building and you'll long for the devil you know. Good luck, Miss Dupont, you and your grandfather are going to need it."

Piper wanted to stop her but no words would come out of her mouth. It was only after Kendal disappeared from sight that she dug out her phone and called the car waiting downstairs.

"You strike out, boss?"

"In a big way. Keep an eye on the exits; I think she's on her way out. Ms. Mackey says she's out of the deal, but I know how much time she's put into us. She's not going anywhere." Piper fished out a bill for her drink that the bartender promptly gave back before leaving her alone. "I think it's time I know as much about Mackey as she knows about me."

"Will do, boss. I'll call you later." From her position Hillary "Hill" Jarvis could see Kendal standing at the valet station just inside the motor entrance of the hotel. "I would've pegged you for the limo type of gal, Kendal."

Expecting a boring sedan, Hill's mouth fell open when the valet drove down a black, very large motorcycle. Strapped to the back was a black leather jacket with gloves tucked into the pocket. The rider handed her suit jacket to the valet and donned the heavier, warmer garment. With a roar she was out of the garage headed out of town. At a red light Kendal pulled out her phone and made a quick call. With a scanning device, Hill listened in from two car lengths back.

"Bruce, pack it up and head home tonight if you can. Call the team and scrub Dupont from our hot list."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm no longer interested. They could give me the whole damn thing now and I still wouldn't want it. Mr. Dupont can keep that spawn he calls family and they can both stew in the mess they've created."

Bruce pushed his plate away and tapped his fingers on the table. "We can't just walk away, Kendal. We've put in a shit load of hours on this."

"Your mistake, my friend, is thinking this is up for discussion. It isn't so get back to the office and find something else. This deal is dead." The light changed and Kendal walked the bike to the curb, making Hill have to pass her up.

"And what do you plan to do?"

"I have some other things to attend to, so it maybe awhile before I get back."

"Like what?"

"Bruce, we've been friends for a long time but don't delude yourself into thinking you own any part of me. I'm here and I have things to do, accept that and go. I'll call you when I'm ready to come back."

"Whatever that is, is more important than what we came for?" From the beginning he'd had the feeling Kendal's mind was on something else. For Bruce it was always about the money, no matter how much he made it would never be enough.

"Dupont was something to do while we were here, that's true. If you don't like that or can't accept it, there's no other explanation I can give you."

Not willing to throw away their relationship, Bruce steadied his voice and tried his best not to sound disappointed. "Is there anything I can do for you? I'd be willing to stay behind and help."

"Thanks, man, but this is something I've put off long enough. Take care of yourself, Bruce, and tell your father hello for me. You owe him a visit when you get home. He's different from you, but he's still a good man."

Not liking the path the conversation had taken Bruce tried again. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Take care then. Don't take too long, ok?" The line was disconnected before he said goodbye and it suddenly made him feel sick. What if he never had the chance to say goodbye? The call to his father was something he was looking forward to now.

Kendal got on the interstate and opened the throttle on the bike. Miles down the road she came to an exit that was just before one of the large bridges built over the years to span the Mississippi River. Cold air blew through her hair as she started down River Road. With each mile the bike ate up, she moved further beyond the clutter of houses lining the road.

Here the homes were miles apart, and most weren't privately owned anymore. Everyday tourists from around the world followed docents dressed in period costumes to learn a little of the old south as it was lived on the plantation. A smaller plantation was the last she saw as the curvy road became dark with no streetlights and no moon. To the right lay a long stretch of woods and to the left was the high levee that kept the muddy waters at bay.

Finally, after a long stretch, the woods gave way to cleared land and a high wrought iron fence that gave passers by only a small glimpse of what lay on the other side. Massive oak trees looked like spirits with the Spanish moss blowing in the breeze and ancient looking azalea bushes lay dormant waiting for spring to open the thousands of buds they were known for. With the quick click of a button on the control in her jacket pocket, the gates opened to the bricked drive that led to the house. After close to three hundred years the master of the house had returned to Oakgrove.

*  *  *

Under Charlie's care the house looked very much like the last time she had seen it, only now electricity illuminated the porches and verandas where only lanterns had been before. The house had been her joy for the time she had been in Louisiana, having overseen and helped in the original construction and additions they had made. During the war it was stories of it being haunted that saved it from serious looting and vandalism. In time Charlie erected the fence and allowed much of the land to be reclaimed by the trees, leaving only the expansive formal gardens for the staff to tend.

The other additions besides modernizing the house for comfort had been the addition of a more modern barn. Salvaged wood and relics from the original one built were incorporated into the one now at the back of the house. The full stables had some distant relatives to Jacques St. Louis's personal mounts, especially from his beloved black stallion Dubois.

Per Kendal's directions the staff had been given the night off so she could wander the grounds alone. She sat on the bike and just stared at her old home. The excitement of being here at last made her forget her run in with Piper, and Kendal dismounted to start her tour. The front door was unlocked and on the center table in the foyer was a note from Charlie.

Welcome home, Monsieur St. Louis. These walls have missed your presence. Enjoy, and call for me when you have need.

There was wood piled in the fireplace in the parlor and the liquor bottles were all full, but none of that mattered. Kendal stood with her hands on her hips, much like the pose the day it was hung, and studied the portrait of Angelina du'Pon over the mantle. The resemblance to Piper was uncanny but the portrait showed the major difference. It was their eyes. Angelina's were a paler green and filled with love for the person she was looking at when she sat for the likeness. Where as Piper's were more vibrant, in turn they were hard and almost calculating.

She walked through the house looking and touching different objects as she went. The last room Kendal visited was the sword room. Along the walls was the priceless collection she'd amassed in her long lifetime. Some were older than any found in museums around the world. Each had a small brass plate that told the year it was purchased and where Kendal had gotten it. Under Charlie's care, each sword looked almost new.

With a small bow, she took down the last one she had sent Charlie for storage. The Japanese katana blade had been a gift from one warrior to another when Kendal had saved the wife of a samurai during her travels. It was light, sharp and perfect for the upcoming days. She brought it with her upstairs and dropped it on the bed so she could change. A few minutes later she was dressed in a pair of riding pants and loose fitting white shirt. The sword was securely strapped to her back as she went through the back door.

*  *  *

"Where are you?" asked Piper in lieu of a greeting. After her meeting with Kendal she had decided to go home and relax with a glass of wine. To her annoyance, there'd been over twenty messages from Kenny apologizing for what he was sure was a misunderstanding.

"You would never guess, no matter how much time I gave you." Hill sat hunched down in her car and hoped Kendal wouldn't see her parked at the top of the levee. It was her only hope at seclusion since River Road didn't really have a shoulder and parking on the plantation's property could land her in jail.

"A whorehouse?"

The private detective pulled the phone form her ear and looked at it as if she'd heard wrong. "As interestingly strange as that answer is, that would be a negative."

"Let's just say I've heard stories about Kendal Mackey and her appetites."

To make sure nothing had changed, Hill looked through a pair of night vision binoculars and scanned the front lawn and what little she could see of the house. "I don't know, Piper, you sound almost jealous."

"Please, I may need to hire someone else if you think I'm interested in women." The blonde leaned against a pile of pillows in front of the fireplace and took a sip of her wine. "So if you're through playing games, tell me where you are."

"On the levee outside Oakgrove."

"What, you're on a sight seeing tour?"

"Why I work for you is the real mystery," said Hill when Piper sounded irritated. "Your mark pulled up on a big Harley and the gates slid open like she owns the place. She's in the house right now."

"What's her connection to the St. Louis family? That place is one of the few that's still privately owned, though I doubt I've ever seen any of the family in residence. The real shocker is the land the original owner acquired is still controlled by the family trust."

"If you do so well investigating on your own, why do you need me?"

Moving from irritated to distracted Piper sat up and stared into the flames. "To fill in the gaps for me."

"You don't sound like you have too many. Or maybe you're just a plantation history expert and I missed that?"

"Granddad's family owns the place next door. Ever since I've been five, I've been trying to sneak over there and explore but I never get very far. This is getting curiouser and curiouser." Piper tapped her nail against her front tooth remembering all her thwarted efforts. "Call me as soon as you know anything."

"Will do, boss. Oh, before I forget, I taped a conversation I thought you'd want to hear. I'll get you a written transcript as soon as I get back to the office." She rewound the tape and played Kendal's call to Bruce. To hear the woman refer to Piper as an evil spawn almost made Hill laugh into the phone. Wanting to keep her client happy though, she kept quiet.

"When did she make that call?"

"Right after she met with you. She talked to him from the curb before coming here. I had Mandy check it out. Whoever Bruce is, he walked back to the hotel and asked the front desk to settle his bill. She's waiting to follow him to the airport."

"I know the type. Mackey's not going anywhere and she's not about to pass on this deal. We're worth millions to her dead and in pieces."

"Then she's going it alone if this guy ends up leaving."

"We'll see. Keep your eyes open and call me if anything happens or if anyone else shows up. I don't care what time it is."

Hill scanned the front of the property with her binoculars almost hoping not to see any movement. It was late and dark, so the morning was soon enough for her. She rolled the window down so the cool air would keep her awake and settled in for the night.

"Look at you, big boy. Dubois would be happy to see that his line has carried on so beautifully." Kendal patted the large horse on the side of the neck letting him get acquainted with her. With gentle words she bridled him and led him out of the stall.

"How about a little midnight ride, Ruda?" Not bothering with a saddle, Kendal landed on his back with a fluid grace not often seen without the help of a stirrup. The black horse danced a little to the right when he felt the weight, but just as quickly waited for her command when strong legs squeezed his middle. The strong voice saying, "Ha," sent him toward the wooded area of the property, glad for the freedom to run without the feel of the saddle.

She rode until they were well away from the house then moved to the fence line. After a few sections she found what she was looking for and opened the hidden gate to allow them to move onto the road. Locking up before she crossed, Kendal let a small laugh escape that was echoed by Ruda snorting. It was almost like he knew what was coming next.

The powerful legs made quick work of the levee and Kendal let Ruda loose once they were on level ground again, letting him set their pace. She only slowed him when the car came into view. It was almost too easy to provide the element of surprise when the person sent to watch you was asleep.

Hill's brain tried to decipher why her chin felt so cold so it could do something about it without waking. A move of her head to the right only increased the chill and now a slight pressure was detected giving Hill no recourse but to open her eyes. When she did, she almost laughed at the hilarity of her dream. Got to lay off the nachos after nine. There sitting bare back was Kendal holding a sword to the underside of her chin.

"Want to explain why you're parked on my property?"

She sounds so real, thought Hill as she blinked rapidly. "Uhm."

"Tell me, Ms. Jarvis, are you a better detective than you are a talker?"

The press of the steel was biting into her skin now and Hill tried to pull back further only to have Kendal lean in further after her. The P.I. had a feeling any sudden moves on her part would end up with parts of her face decorating her lap.

"This is public property and I was just taking a nap."

"You got part of the story right anyway. The drooling confirms the napping, but unfortunately for you, you're parked on Oakgrove property."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you, but the levee system belongs to the state." She stopped talking when she remembered her current predicament.

"That's true except for the ten mile stretch in front of this house. All the way to the waterline is part of the estate, so in fact, you're trespassing. Should I mention how much trespassers offend me?"

"I'm sorry, if you'll move back I'll be on my way." Hill tried to sound in control but the situation was too bizarre.

The sword moved away from Hill's face so Kendal could slide off Ruda's back. "Not yet. Get out of the car," ordered Kendal. "And you can leave your weapon on the seat. If you think you're fast enough to draw on me you'll find your hand blooding up the grass.

Hill removed the small pistol having no doubt of the threat. "I meant no harm."

Kendal put up one hand as she sheathed the sword with the other. "You're doing your job, I can understand that. What I can't understand is why you're still here doing it?"

"What do you mean?" Hill relaxed a little when the chance of being sliced and diced diminished with the disappearance of the blade.

"Didn't you play the tape for her? I stopped so you'd get the whole thing." The tall woman sounded reasonable, it was a little spooky that she was so on the mark. No one Hill had ever spied on was this perceptive. "Tell Miss Dupont I'm not interested in her little company, so she can save the money this is costing her to fight off the next corporate raider."

"How'd you know?"

"By studying my opponent, Ms. Jarvis. If you know your enemy, you know what to expect, it's not that hard. Piper is nothing if not predictable, and you are on her payroll."

"Years of experience, huh?"

"It helps, but the concept is nothing new. Master Tzu wrote it all in his book. In your line of work I would've guess you'd of read it."

"Ah, you read ‘The Art of War.'"

The tall woman remembered the days she spent studying with the great strategist and smiled. "Something like that." Kendal whistled for Ruda, ready to go. "I'd say it was a pleasure, Ms. Jarvis, but I have a pet peeve about being spied on. Please tell your client, and tell her to stay the hell away from me. After tonight I don't have any plans for Dupont Enterprises, she has my word."

"Thank you, Ms. Mackey."

"You're very welcome. Just remember my warning. I won't be so nice next time, and you have such a handsome face. Pity something would happen to change that." She arched a dark brow at the private investigator before she mounted the horse again and kept riding along the levee toward New Orleans.

To Hill she looked like a piece of the past brought back to life in vivid proportions. You could almost imagine the plantation owner riding along the river as the crops grew near by waiting for the fall harvest. The shame of it was there would be no reason to follow Kendal any further. Unlike most of the others she trailed after, Kendal seemed like a fascinating subject.

Hill started her car even before she had the door closed not anxious to still be around when Kendal returned. Her cell phone was on the seat but she drove almost half way back to the city before calling Piper. "She made me and she knows who signs my paychecks."

The small blonde looked at her darkened ceiling for almost a minute before answering, trying to wrap her brain around what Hill was telling her. "What the hell doesn't she know? I'm beginning to think the only secret I have left is the color of my underwear."

"I wouldn't put even money on that. This woman is different, Piper. She said you have her word she has no interest in your company, so my advice would be to stay clear." The memory of that blade biting into her skin made Hill shudder. She had no doubt that if she were found on Oakgrove property again Kendal would hand her her ass on a plate, literally. "You don't want her as an enemy believe me."

"You show fear in business and you might as well put the for sale sign out. The thing you have to realize is, you don't put in that sort of time and effort to just walk away. Come on, Hill, you don't need an MBA to figure that one out."

"No, I think it's you who doesn't understand. She gave her word, and I got the impression that means a lot to Kendal Mackey. She rode up on a damn black horse and held me at sword point. I'm telling you, boss, you don't want to mess with this woman."

Knowing she was too worked up to sleep, Piper threw the covers back and swung her legs down. "That's why I run a business and you lurk around after people. Call me tomorrow. There's lots more I want to know about Mackey."

Hill spoke to an empty car after Piper disconnected. "As long as I can find it on a computer screen, lady. Cause there's no way in hell I'm putting myself in striking distance again."

*  *  *

The ride was refreshing and Kendal would've sworn Ruda liked it as much as she did. With the minor annoyance gone from across the street Kendal came back through the main gates a little after two in the morning. It felt good to be back on horse back riding through land that reminded her of her summers as a child. When the world moved with the pharaoh to the summer palace and its rich fields of grains.

"I was beginning to think you'd run away." The reprimand was said with a large dose of teasing and the woman saying it brought a huge smile to Kendal's face.

Through the centuries, in every lifetime she had known the names Kendal had gone by, the details of the lives she'd chosen. Why sometimes, because of the society, it was easier to live as a man than a woman. For all she knew about Kendal, in return Kendal had known her only as Indigo.

She was an Elder who observed and passed judgment when it became necessary. In the world, since the beginning of time, there had been things the rational mind could not explain and it was people like Indigo who made sure they coexisted in balance. For every powerful black force that was created, she looked for a stronger white light to fight the darkness back. Destroying the evil if that's what was necessary. When things were quiet Indigo would be absent from Kendal's life for decades at a time.

"Had I known such beauty was waiting on my steps I would've beaten the horse back." Kendal slid off Ruda's back and landed with a small thump on the pavement of the drive. One of Indigo's men took the reins and led the horse away for a thorough brushing.

"Henri's growing stronger as we stand here talking, my warrior. You cannot wait too much longer."

Like the first time Kendal laid eyes on the woman who had been her one constant, something inside of her stirred in response to Indigo's presence. She was almost Kendal's opposite in every way. Petite in stature, pale skin that was extenuated by blonde hair so light it seemed almost white. The only the thing they had in common was the blue distinct eyes that had seen the passage of time.

"Is he ready to take over the world tonight?" asked Kendal as she moved forward. Now that she had finished her ride and stopped moving, the sweat on her skin was making the cold air more pronounced.

The remark got Indigo to arch a pale brow and laugh. This was the rogue who was so easy to lose yourself in because she made you feel so good. "No, not tonight."

"Then let's talk about something else. Since we both realize the price of failure. I know what to do, my little flower."

The Elder held her ground as Kendal moved closer. Her sensitive sense of smell was tickled by the leather-riding boots and the citrusy cologne Kendal had started using during the French Revolution. The tight pants showed off the perfect muscle tone of those long legs, and the black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail by a leather cord. Indigo held her breath anticipating the first touch of the callused hands made rough by years of wielding a sword.

Kendal went slow. She bent her head and pressed her lips to Indigo's savoring the taste of the brandy the smaller woman must have had while waiting for her return. The lips parted encouraging Kendal in to explore, so as she stroked Indigo's tongue with hers, she slid her hands down her sides until she cupped her bottom.

"Better yet, I suggest we talk of nothing at all." With the words, Kendal picked her up and moved to the front door. She didn't stop until they were in the master suite. There she put Indigo gently on her feet and cupped her face in her hands. Just as gently Kendal pressed her lips to those upturned and waiting, enjoying the feel of the smaller woman pressed against her. "I've missed you."

"And I you, warrior mine. There has never been your like in my life." Indigo ran her hands up Kendal's chest and stopped at the cord holding the shirt closed. With one tug the knot came loose and she was able to reach in and lay her palm against the warm chest. "The saddest day of my existence was the day I had to give you the gift of immortality. To be your watcher meant I could never have a life with you no matter how much I cared for you." She pulled Kendal's shirt from the riding pants and pulled it over her head. The body her eyes took in hadn't changed at all from the first night they had spent together.

The sides of the tent would flutter with the breeze whenever the wind picked up along the back of the dunes. Torches were placed sporadically enough to give safe passage through the camp but not close enough for the enemy to study them too closely. It was one thing the unit's captain had learned from the pharaoh herself. In the morning they would face an enemy who outnumbered them three to one, but Asra wasn't worried. She commanded the most feared unit in Ramses' forces.

That night she had eaten with her men and retired to study her maps. She was anxious to return to her father who was ill and doing his best to fight back death. After this mission Asra would return to the city outside the summer palace to spend time with him and train new recruits for the pharaoh. To serve the ruling family as soldiers had been her family's mission as well as tradition for generations.

Physically, Asra wasn't much different from the pharaoh in size but she still wasn't as proficient with the sword as the king. The one main thing that set them apart aside from battle experience was their eye color. While Ramses had blue eyes much like her mother's, Asra's were dark brown like her father's.

The pharaoh had come to trust her and spent time sparring with the young woman when she had the chance. Ramses would smile when they trained together assuring Asra her skill would come with time. She had been right, with experience and practice they had become almost evenly matched and that's why Asra had risen so quickly in the ranks. Her father, a proven soldier in his own right, was her greatest advisor and teacher, glad to see at least one of his children continue in the family's chosen profession. Asra was his greatest pride and his son Abez was his greatest disappointment.

Abez was a season older than Asra and more interested in spending time in the gambling dens of Egypt than he was in any noble profession. At an early age he had learned to hate the perfect little soldier who had come after him. Asra the perfect daughter and growing favorite of the city's elite was the subject of Abez's scorn.

It was only at times like this that Asra gave him any thought at all. Her brother had pulled further and further away from everyone who loved him, disappearing for moons at a time. His returns would be joyous for only a few days until he had talked their father out of a few coins so he could return to the sewer that was his life. No amount of talking on any of their parts would get him to change or choose a different path.

With a long sigh, Asra prayed the gods would bring Abez home before their father's death. No matter how disappointing a son he'd been, Asra was sure her father would want to see him once more before he departed for the other side. Showing the old man at least that respect would erase so many of his past mistakes in his sister's eyes.

She heard the flap pulled back and the almost silent steps of someone approaching. "What is it? I left orders I wasn't to be disturbed."

The person bowed low enough that Asra couldn't see their face. "Forgive me, captain. I have news of your father."

Any melancholy that had built over thoughts of Abez disappeared and Asra wanted to shake the messenger to make him speak faster. "Speak."

When the person stood straight the pharaoh's captain got lost in the beautiful blue eyes and equally beautiful face. She shook her head as if to clear her mind and focus on what the woman had said. "I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but your father is dead."

The news, she reflected later, was not unexpected but it was devastating nonetheless. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. "Did he suffer?" asked Asra.

"He suffered very little, warrior, because the end was fast and before his time. Again I don't know of any other way to tell you than to say it was your brother who killed him."

Before the mystery woman could go on, Asra moved swiftly and drew her blade. The sword was the same one her father had used in combat, and had been a gift when she had been given her own unit. "A filthy lie you will bleed for."

"Please, captain, let me speak my peace then I'll submit to whatever punishment you wish." The woman bowed again. "That's all I ask."

She started with a history of the forces at work within the realm and in places not yet known to Egypt. As in every battle there was the fight for good and evil and it was her job to seek out those who were worthy of fighting for those who could not fight for themselves. Evil, she told Asra, if left unchecked would plunge the world into darkness forever.

"You speak in riddles, woman. What does all this have to do with my father?" Asra stood in the middle of the tent with her hands on her hips as she asked the question.

"The evil I speak of has seduced your brother. It was he who took your father's life as revenge for what he feels was denied him."

"You're lying," accused Asra. It fell easily from her lips, but in the pit of her stomach she felt sick. She knew Abez, and because she did, what this woman was saying was possible. "Abez was seduced a long time ago but he's never been violent. My father may not agree with his life, but he's never denied him the coins he craves."

"It's blood he craves now. He needs it like we need to breathe. What you must realize now is Abez could have chosen anyone to satisfy his thirst, but he chose your father. Doing so was the best way to draw you out, then his revenge would be complete."

"He's my brother. I know we disagree on almost everything, but I can't believe he hates me that much."

The woman moved closer and knelt next to Asra. She laid a comforting hand on a broad shoulder, waiting until glassy brown eyes captured her own. "He's no longer the brother you knew, warrior. You have to understand that by accepting the gift he received, it killed all the good in him. His craving now is blood and death. It will be so until the end of time, or until he is destroyed."

"No man lives forever, only the gods do, and Abez is no god." The soldier studied the woman before her. She had the queen's coloring but the face was even more attractive than Sarah's. Asra was sure Ramses was aware of the many admirers her mate had throughout the city, Asra being one. The other thing the pharaoh was aware of was Sarah's devotion to only her. But even the love-besotted pharaoh would look twice at Asra's late night visitor.

"What will it take to convince you?"

"I need no proof since I plan no revenge of my own. My brother's not perfect, but he's no killer. That would take effort and if you knew him well, you know that's something he has very little patience for." Asra stood and wiped her tears away. "Leave me to remember my father. My thanks for bringing me the news of his passing, if I can, I will repay the debt."

The woman left as quietly as she had come. She didn't see Asra's strong shoulders fold in the defeat of despair. If what her visitor said was true, she was truly alone in the world. Her mother had died seasons earlier and now her father had joined her. From outside the messenger listened before disappearing into the darkness of the sands. Her job wasn't finished but she needed to give Asra time to accept her fate.

The next morning Asra headed into battle like a woman possessed. There wasn't an enemy soldier alive by the time the sun was at its peak. Leaving orders to her second in command the captain rode off toward the city with the same intensity. She arrived at her father's home candle marks after the sun had set. Again the proud warrior fell to her knees with the atrocity that awaited her.

It looked like a beast had come in the night and ripped the throats of every servant, leaving the bodies for the flies. What amazed Asra was the lack of blood. From her battlefield experience the wounds should have painted the walls red.

She heard his laugh before she saw him. Like in her camp there were only a couple of torches lit throughout the house. "You can't imagine how pleasing it is to see the mighty warrior brought to her knees."

"Abez, what have you done?"

"What is my right to do, captain. You've looked down on me for so long but that's about to change. I fed on these pathetic fools but it's you who I thirst for now, sister. For all your skill you'll find I'm invincible now." He moved out of the shadows and Asra shrank back at the sight of him.

Seasons of drink and abuse had hardened Abez's features but he was now hideous. It was the only way she could think to describe him. His skin looked deathly pale and his face was transformed to something that looked like a nightmare. Just as quickly the monstrous additions melted away and all that was left were the new elongated incisors.

Asra pulled her sword free and held it out in front of her. "It's true then, you killed papa?"

He laughed so hard he braced his hands against his knees. "His last breaths were wasted on calling for you to protect him instead of being in awe that he had sired a god." Abez pointed to the worthless weapon in his sister's hand. "You are no match for my strength, Asra, so put your toys away. Face death with the same pride with which you serve the mighty Ramses." He kicked the sword out of her hand and took possession of it. It was just one more thing that should've been his that his sister had stolen from him.

"Leave now and I won't turn you to dust, Abez." The threat came from the shadow and he tried to pinpoint where the intruder was standing. "Your master must've warned you of your limitations. Do you wish to see just how invincible you are?"

Asra recognized the woman's voice. It was her visitor from the night before and in her hand was a sword with an intricate design along the blade. When Abez finally located her it was he who stepped back in fear, and his face contorted back to the monstrous form. If it was done to intimidate her, the woman only stepped closer. Rather than fight, Abez fled with speed Asra had only witnessed in fast horses.

"Are you all right?"

Asra dropped her hands from their defensive posture suddenly tired and ill from the death that surrounded her. "Who are you?"

"I am Indigo and I am an Elder of the Order. I've come to give you a gift, Asra, if you agree to join us." The smaller woman returned her sword to the sheath strapped to her back and held her hand out to Asra.

"Who is us?"

As she had the night before, Indigo explained how and why she existed. The Order was formed by those who understood and fought the unexplainable. Abez had become a child of Ora, a witch who had tapped a dark power a century before Asra had been born. When the evil force took hold of her body, Ora ceased to need food or water, couldn't stand bright lights and lived off the blood of the living. Those who served her were promised eternal life as long as they stayed away from the soldiers who served the Elders.

With time the Elders had leaned to fight back and diminished the witch's numbers, but Ora always stayed one step ahead of them. The longer her children lived the stronger they became and the less they needed to feed. Ora now only killed and drained her victims for the sport and her love of death. The Order's job was to stop her minions before they grew to powerful and upset the balance of order in the world.

"If you join us, I'll train you to fight the darkness that has stolen Abez's spirit. With that knowledge also comes a gift."

"What, you want my spirit as well?"

"No, I want to give you life — one that will outlast the ages. All we ask is that you serve when called."

Asra laughed and took the woman's hand. "No one can live forever, woman."

The blonde laughed with her as she pulled Asra to her feet. "Then time will be my proof. Will you commit?"

The soldier nodded and placed her fist over her chest. Asra only wanted to avenge her father and those who lay dead at her feet. She did not fear death if she took her brother with her to the land of the dead. The life she'd worked so hard for meant nothing to her now.

Together they rode into the desert to a camp Indigo had set up. The tent was next to the watering hole and under the trees of the oasis. When sunset came, Indigo stripped off the bloody uniform Asra was still wearing. Asra watched with a placid eye as the blonde bathed her and washed her hair. The attention felt wonderful enough to make Asra forget her woes for the night.

"Your brother has chosen the darkness and in darkness will he dwell all the rest of his days. But you, warrior mine, will walk a different path. The sun will bring you life, strength and wisdom, where for Abez it will only bring death." Indigo spoke in soft tones as she cleansed Asra's skin. When she was done she led her new recruit out of the pond to a blanket she had laid out under the stars.

Interested blue eyes watched as Indigo mixed the ingredients she had around her with clean fresh water. For every item that went into the cup she told Asra their purpose and how much was used. When she was done the cup held a thick liquid that glowed as bright as the sun.

"Drink and live forever," said Indigo holding up the cup.

The first sip was taken tentatively since Asra thought it would be hot. It was cool on her tongue but the feeling it produced was anything but cool. She felt like she was consuming the strength of a hundred men with each sip. The feeling of power was intoxicating.

"You are one of us now, Asra. There is no turning back. For as long as you walk the earth I will be here to help you. Are you ready to begin?"

"We can begin tomorrow," answered Asra. Her teacher showed no reluctance when Asra pulled her forward and kissed her. It excited Indigo instantly when she figured out Asra was already more powerful than she was. Her strength and purity would make her the greatest warrior the Order had produced. No one would ever be able to seduce Asra as they had her brother.

By the time they left the haven of the desert everything and everyone Asra had known was a memory. The years had been spent learning a new way to fight from Indigo and making love whenever they pleased. Over the years Ora had come to both hate and fear the warrior Indigo had found since none of her followers had ever come close to defeating Asra in battle.

Asra had morphed over time changing to fit her environment, serving whenever the Elders sent Indigo to do their bidding. The only thing she had found that sapped her strength was the same thing that made Abez so strong. Total darkness. With it came not death, but sleep and weakness. It had been what she sought after Jacques St. Louis ceased to exist, but it had been Indigo who'd come and pulled her from the cave she'd picked. Now it was her time as Kendal Mackey, but it was also her time to finish the work she'd begun as Asra.

"You are as beautiful as you were the night I gave you life, Asra."

The tall woman drank and Indigo could see the liquid doing its work. The muscles in Asra's body twitched and jumped as they were infused with the power of the sun. When it was done, Asra opened her eyes and Indigo smiled. Their color was now as blue as her own. It had worked. Their new warrior was immortal.

Her memories were interrupted by the sound of Kendal's voice. The deep rumble pulled Indigo's mind back from the past. "And you excite me just as much," said Kendal as she watched Indigo pull her belt open and lower her pants. With a little encouragement she pulled Indigo's head forward toward her center. She loved having sex with this woman who understood her needs and could match her strength.

She moaned when Indigo sucked in the hard bundle of need. Only focused concentration kept her on her feet under the pleasurable onslaught. "Let go for me, warrior, for tomorrow the war begins."

PART 2

THE SOUNDS OF the birds singing in the branches of the oak outside the master suite made Indigo turn her head toward the French doors that led out to the veranda. Standing in the dim dawn light, a naked Kendal looked out toward the front lawns. The Elder had never visited Kendal at Oakgrove during her life as Jacques St. Louis. She had tried to gift that time to her loyal fighter to pursue and romance someone who could have made her happy for a short while. Kendal's life would never be normal, so the few windows of happiness she could snatch along the way were something Indigo couldn't deny her.

"What do you see?"

"The beginning of another day," replied Kendal. Her body felt both sated and restless and she was anxious to begin the work the blonde Elder had called her to New Orleans to complete.

Indigo got up from the bed and pressed her own naked body to Kendal's back. The tall woman's abdominal muscles twitched slightly under her hands. "Don't tell me you're getting bored with the prospect."

"In the beginning I thought I would. To wander aimlessly forever, with no chance at a family, watching everyone you love die, didn't seem too appealing once I gave it serious thought." Kendal turned in Indigo's embrace and led her back to the large bed. The blonde snuggled up to her side as they continued their talk. "To know my life would revolve around killing brought an incredible sadness to my heart."

"Asra, your life was one of a soldier when I found you. Did you forget you were the leader of the pharaoh's elite squad? Your duty was to kill on command. What was the difference?"

"With Ramses my life would've ended. The killing would've stopped with time and another soldier would've been waiting to take my place. Funny thing is, war is something some people are eager to face in any lifetime if history is any indication. Just look at the world today. How different are men and women today than those who lived under Ramses' rule?" asked Kendal as she wrapped a strand of pale blonde hair around her fingers. Indigo always smelled of roses, even when they first met and Kendal had never seen the flower.

"The difference I think is that the wise ruler you served had more patience for talk. I would think that after all this time you would grow bored with politics and the ups and downs it puts people through." Indigo poked her in the ribs getting Kendal to laugh. "Are you really tired?"

"Try some of that patience you're fond of," teased Kendal earning another poke. "The sadness was replaced by awe. It was the simple things at first. The forging of stronger steel, the printing press, the sound of an orchestra when I heard it for the first time and to see man fly were all worth facing each new day. I've come to love life and those who cherish it like I do."

Indigo lifted her head and looked into Kendal's eyes. "And the fighting?"

"I fight for those who can't fight for themselves. It's not only my obligation but also my honor. The killing doesn't bother me now because those I destroy really aren't human anymore. I heard Jacques speaking to me the other night and I couldn't bring myself to turn and look at him." The long exhale from Kendal was a sign to Indigo that another two thousand years wouldn't bring understanding as to why Jacques had chosen as he had.

"Why?" asked the blonde wanting confirmation.

"Because he may look like my brother, he many sound like him, but he isn't. From that very first night he came to kill me, I couldn't stand to look at what he's turned into. I'm going to destroy him and hunt down the witch who made him." The passion Indigo wanted to hear was back. Her warrior had awoken.

"He's grown powerful you know."

Kendal may have been out of the game for one lifetime, but the years were only a blip in time for her. "Yes, but then so have I."

Indigo laughed a little and pinched the nipple close to her cheek. "You sound incredibly sexy when you talk like that."

"Are you kidding? I sound incredibly sexy all the time," teased Kendal. She rolled over and pinned Indigo under her, holding her hands above her head. The message had been delivered from the Order, so it was only a matter of time before Indigo left to attend to other responsibilities. Kendal planned to make the most of the time they had left. Her life would become dark soon enough until the job was done, so now was the time to rejoice in the pleasures life could bring.

"Ah, I see the cocky captain I first encountered is back. And here I thought time would tame you."

Indigo arched up when Kendal sucked in a nipple and bit down with a bit of pressure. Just as quickly she let go. "Do you really want to tame me?"

With almost equal strength Indigo broke Kendal's hold on her wrists. "Never. Enough talk." A strong thigh pressed between her legs as a sign Kendal agreed with her.

They went slowly, Kendal rocking against her as she kissed Indigo's neck. The night before had been explosive. Each of them trying to subdue the other, but this was about familiarity. They both cared for the other and knew how to please, that had never been at issue. They both knew, though, not to grow too attached. Their place within the Order would never allow them more than a few stolen moments.

"Please, warrior, take me."

Kendal moved her hand between them and claimed the prize Indigo was offering. Before either of them both wanted, the moment was over and they lay together wrapped up under the blankets.

*  *  *

Indigo bent and kissed Kendal before taking her seat at the breakfast table the house staff she'd brought with her had set up on the porch. The unpredictable weather had again slipped into a more summer like pattern so Indigo had chosen a sleeveless white shirt to go with her faded jeans. To the causal observer the Elder looked like an All-American coed home for the weekend.

"I'll leave the guys with you until you're done. The regular staff Charlie keeps around might not understand some of the things that could happen if Jacques decides to come for a visit," said Indigo. A crisp white linen napkin was placed on her lap by the young man serving breakfast and got a nod of thanks from his mistress. He nodded back before going quietly about his duties being as invisible as possible.

"You're leaving already?"

Indigo broke a croissant in half and put a pat of butter on it before adding the homemade strawberry preserves that had been put out. "Trying to get rid of me?"

"No, I just want you to say goodbye this time."

She put the bread down and reached for Kendal's hand. "That was a couple of hundred years ago, warrior. Let it go."

"What can I say? I know how to hold a grudge." The broad shoulders shrugged as Kendal's way of acknowledging her imperfections.

"And how," said Indigo with a laugh.

"Speaking of grudges," started Kendal.

"He can't work with you, so don't even ask."

Kendal looked at the full plate of eggs and bacon the server had put down before responding. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Abez took the name Jacques in this life as a taunt for my failings when it was mine. One of my greatest failures was Lionel's family. I won't deny him now."

"He isn't ready. The Elders are still pissed that Charlie exists in the first place to be able to avenge anyone now. Or have you forgotten that little infraction?" Indigo sounded very much like she was scolding a small child and her arms crossed over her chest challenged Kendal to deny the truth.

"One," she said holding up a single digit. "One in all the years you gave me, I'd have to say that's not a bad record. And I hate to disagree with you, but he is ready. If you try to stop him from helping me, then find someone else to go against Jacques, because I won't do it." Kendal leaned back and mirrored the smaller woman's pose.

"You would defy the Order?"

"Just because you and they are in a position of authority doesn't make you always right. In this case you're wrong so my answer is yes, I'd defy the Order."

"He'll be your responsibility," said Indigo, pointing her finger at Kendal.

"He always has been," retorted Kendal. "You'll see, Charlie will be an asset to us. If I hadn't thought so he'd be a memory by now. That's why I gave him the gift. He's a rare man with a caring heart."

The corner of Indigo's mouth quivered slightly and then she just gave in to the smile. "It's the only reason the Elders didn't bury you under a rock somewhere. Take care of him because Jacques will show him no mercy. And you're right about why Abez chose the name. I want you to take this business seriously, warrior mine. Age has made the enemy not only strong but extremely cunning."

For some reason Piper Dupont popped into Kendal's thoughts. The little demon was history now that Kendal had turned her interest elsewhere, but she had left quite an impression with the immortal. "I should introduce him to Piper Dupont. After ten minutes Jacques should be ready to drive a stake through his own heart."

Indigo laughed around her fork. "Don't tell me there's a woman alive who can resist you? What is the world coming to?"

"Hard to believe isn't it?" Kendal looked through the window of the house to the painting over the fireplace. "The closest I've come to dying is being on the receiving end of some of her killer looks."

Indigo clapped her hands and came close to spitting the bite of eggs she had just taken on her breakfast companion. "Ooh, you have to tell me more about this girl. What does she look like?"

"Darken the eyes and sharpen her features a little and she looks like that," answered Kendal, pointing to the portrait.

"No way." Indigo's head swung back quickly to look at Kendal to see if she was teasing.

"Way. I came close to passing out when I saw her. It was like fate was playing a cruel joke on me for my short comings."

The blonde stood and walked to the other side of the table. All of Indigo's servants disappeared discretely into the house when their boss took a seat on Kendal's lap. "It was Henri's deeds back then, and the fault for what happened lies squarely on him. Stop blaming yourself for things you had no control over."

"Don't you get it? He did what he did because of me."

"But it was still Henri who did them. Kendal, you can't control his actions and you can't be everywhere at once no matter how hard you try. Jacques, or Henri or whatever name he goes by is a vampire. He is a creature without conscience and without a soul." Indigo caressed Kendal's face wiping away the tears that had fallen.

"You sound so religious."

"And you sound like a smart ass. Christians may think they invented the concept of the soul but you and I know it's been there all along. Catholics find God in cathedrals, some think He's hanging around at tent revivals, and the lost tribes of the Amazon find him in every living thing. Who's right?"

Kendal stood cradling Indigo in her arms. She kissed her before putting her down, enjoying the speck of jam the linen napkin had missed. "You will not drag me into this conversation again, so forget it. How about you gather your best swordsmen for later? I could use the practice before tonight."

"You're no fun," pouted Indigo. They had argued about different topics over the years, the fights sometimes lasting for decades. "Where are you off to?"

With a quick slap to the blonde's backside Kendal moved toward her bike. "To a Catholic cathedral to find salvation. If I can't find that, I'll settle for Charlie."

*  *  *

"Well?"

"Well what?" returned Hill with another question. Finding Piper standing in her office doorway had shocked the hell out of her. In all the time she had worked for the head of Dupont, the blonde always made her come downtown.

"Did you find anything?" asked Piper in exasperation. "Come one, get with the program it's what I'm paying you for."

"I found the same thing I found the last time I looked. Didn't you read the report? She's like a machine this woman. Have you looked at her college transcripts? Even Einstein didn't get that many A's." The computer behind her was finishing its search for any mention of Kendal Mackey ever in print. Hill pulled her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Did her pet snake slither back to New York?"

Hill handed a one-paged report to her client detailing Bruce's itinerary from the time he got the call from Kendal the night he left. "He checked out and hopped a limo to the airport. But the thing is, he flew to Los Angeles not New York."

"What's in LA?"

"Aside from the obvious you mean?" The joke was met by Piper putting her fist on her hips in impatience. "Webster International," continued Hill handing over another short report. "Old manufacturing firm on the ropes after the down turn in the economy a couple of years ago. Mr. Babagge is flying this one solo, well as solo as you can get with a team of terminators on their way from the main office."

"And?"

One more sheet came off the top of the messy desk. "She hasn't left the property as far as we can tell from five miles away. Considering the estate owns all the land in every direction makes surveillance a little tough." The ringing phone stopped any further commentary since Hill was alone in the office. "Jarvis here," she paused to listen to the caller. "Keep way back and keep me posted if you head into town. I'll take over once you get here, and be careful, it's like this woman has eyes in the back of her head."

"What's going on?" asked Piper.

"The big bike just rolled past our look out and it would seem Ms. Mackey is headed back to town," informed Hill. The blonde watched as Hill opened her top desk drawer and got her gun out. "I'll call you later and give you an update."

"You do that. I want to know her every move while she's here. I'm not buying this ‘I'm not interested' act of hers."

Twenty minutes later Hill paused at the back of the St. Louis Cathedral in the French Quarter surprised that it was Kendal's first stop for the day. There was a small parking lot under a row of oaks and along side a small graveyard where all the church's Monsignors were buried. Having to keep an eye on traffic made Hill miss the big smile and shaking of Kendal's head when she pulled off her sunglasses.

"I'm must not as scary as I thought if she's still on the trail," Kendal mumbled to herself. She wasn't irritated though, now it would become more of a game — one Hill Jarvis couldn't win.

A kindly old priest was waiting at the door having heard the rumble of the bike. He believed it was a blessing from the good Lord Himself that these generous benefactors through the years always produced heirs who looked so much like their ancestor Jacques St. Louis.

From the few paintings and photographs in the church's archives, the resemblance among all of them was uncanny. Since Jacques' original donation all others were made either by wire transfer or by the priests going to one of the family members homes outside the city. To have one of the family finally visit the church during his tenure was exciting.

"Father Gibran, how good to see you again. I trust you're doing well." Kendal took his hands in hers before accepting his embrace.

"I'm so glad you've finally come. Your family has been absent from this house too long." He accepted her arm and walked to the small courtyard where the Order of nuns who served the parish had erected a beautiful statue of the Virgin Mary.

"After my business in town I hope to return more often, Father." They talked for an hour about the repairs Kendal was financing and the day care they were building a few blocks away.

"When you come back please block out a day so we can bring you around to see the fruits of your generosity. I would also enjoy showing you off to the parish."

Kendal patted his hand liking the fact he still exuded so much energy despite his age. "That's a deal, but now I'm just here to pick up Charlie if he's ready to go."

"Oh he's been sitting by the telephone waiting for you to call. He'll be happy to see you've come. Thank you for sending him though, he did a bit of rewiring for us while he was waiting. He's really quite handy."

"Amazing what having time on your hands will do for a man, Father. Come on and I'll walk you inside." She helped him off the bench and kept her pace slow to not aggravate the man's limp. When Kendal met people like Father Gibran it made her feel bad not to be able to do anything for their pain. From the first sip of the elixir her body had forgotten what it was like to ache and while she had the ability to get hurt, she also had amazing recuperative powers.

"You came," said Charlie when they walked back into the rectory.

"I gave you my word, Charlie. Of course I came back. But now's your chance to stay here where you'll be safe." She put her hand on his shoulder and spoke low so only he would hear her. He listened but his expression was one of disbelief and hurt.

"I can help you. There's no way I'll let you down, Kendal."

"I'm not asking because I doubt your loyalty or believe that you'll disappoint me. It's just that you've never done this before. Could you kill one of those coeds you love to spend time with practicing your French with if Jacques' just turned them into something that'll haunt your waking dreams? They look so vulnerable and sweet in the beginning but they're still just as deadly."

Charlie laughed at the thought. "But I can't die, you've seen to that."

"No, but they can bury you so deep you'll be as good as dead. Jacques is as aware of that as I am and if he can't beat me directly he'll do it through you."

Charlie pulled away from her, noticing that Father Gibran was watching the exchange so he switched to French. "Then you don't want me to come with you?"

"What I need to know is if you still want to come with me, my friend. Do you remember your boys and woman enough to avenge what happened to them?"

"Do I remember? Are you insane?" Charlie tried to keep his voice down but he was losing the battle. Anger poured out of him and he clenched his fits to try and control it. "I was taken from my home and my family in chains like an animal and there was nothing I could do, I had to accept my fate. Then I was given Celia and four strong sons only to be left alone again. Do I remember them? I've thought of little else for decades."

Kendal held her hand out to him and smiled. "Then come with me. I want you at my side in this battle."

They both bid farewell to the Monsignor and walked out to the parking lot. There sitting next to hers was another bike. When Charlie looked at her, Kendal just shrugged her shoulders and threw him a set of keys.

"How?"

"I have many skills," said Kendal as she slipped her sunglasses back on.

"Didn't that other woman warrior used to say…" started Charlie.

"She had to learn it from someone right?"

With two quick kicks the bikes came to life forcing the watcher to slink down in the nearby car seat. Hill peaked over the steering wheel when the rumble of the engines sounded distant and had blended in with the rest of the surrounding traffic. She put the car in drive and merged behind a delivery truck confident her back up had Kendal in sight.

"This is such a waste of time," said Hill to an empty car. This person wasn't acting like someone interested in taking over someone's business. The phone rang next to her and her partner confirmed the two riders were headed in the direction of Oakgrove. Making a quick decision, Hill headed back to the rectory. Experience told her Piper's first question would be who the guy with Kendal was and what her connection to him was in detail.

"Can we help you, child?" asked the nun who answered the door. The full habit brought back an avalanche of memories from parochial school for Hill making her shiver. Women with wimples armed with rulers were, in her opinion, brides of the devil.

"I was wondering if I could speak to the older priest who was sitting outside with the woman who came to visit just now?"

"Monsignor Gibran is in a meeting. Is there a problem, or perhaps something I could help you with?"

Hill was about to ask when he would be available when something caught her eye. It was a painting depicting a group of men standing around what looked like a cornerstone. Standing next to a priest in brown robes was Kendal Mackey dressed as a man and on the other side of her was a woman who very much looked like Piper Dupont. "What an interesting painting." The private detective moved past the nun for a closer look.

"It was from the building of the first church in the territory." The explanation was lost on the woman mesmerized in the likeness of two people from the past come back to life in the present. "The building was made possible by Jacques St. Louis," the nun went on. She laughed when Hill didn't ask the usual question. "Of course that's not why we chose St. Louis as our patron saint."

"Wasn't Mr. St. Louis the owner of Oakgrove?"

"Of the original plantation, yes. The house that sits there now has been repaired enough through the years that I'd think it would be brand-new by now. Charlie does such a wonderful job for the family keeping it up."

"Charlie?" asked Hill still not looking away from the image on the wall.

"The young man who was here that you were asking about. He's the caretaker of the house."

"Do you know his last name, Sister?"

"Perhaps Monsignor Gibran could answer that for you. I've always known him as Charlie." She waved toward the closed door at the end of the hall. "I've been with him to the estate a few times but I was more interested in looking around than in what Charlie's full name is."

"You've been to Oakgrove?" The opportunity was too good to pass up for Hill and she forgot all about the man who'd left with Kendal. Now that the sword-toting woman thought she was off the case maybe this nun could point out any chinks in the security.

"Yes, it's a lovely place. You should see the small lake toward the back. It's the only place that the fence separating the grounds from the property next door ends. The open space makes you imagine what the place must have looked like way back when." The woman leaned forward and put her hand on Hill's arm like she was telling her a secret.

Bingo. "I'll bet it must be lovely." Hill patted the nun's hand and noticed how soft it was. Taking a better look at her face she wondered why such a beautiful woman had chosen a life of service. "Thank you for your time, Sister. I'll come back and make an appointment to see the Monsignor at a later date."

The nun watched from the window as Hill almost ran to her car, her phone pressed to her ear as she went. "I would consider this my good deed for the day, Asra," she said pulling off the wimple. She fluffed up her blonde hair and decided to have it cut before returning to the house. Indigo figured it would be only a matter of time before they had visitors via the lake. "Let's hope they decide to make their covert operation during day light hours because I'm thinking Jacques will send his own welcoming party soon enough."

She stripped off the habit and dropped it on one of the visitor's chairs. The thought of masquerading as a nun any longer made her almost laugh out loud considering how she had spent her evening. Kendal could make you find religion but she doubted it was what the church had in mind.

"Can I help you, miss?" asked an elderly woman dressed in the black robes of a nun.

"No thank you, sister, I was just doing a favor for a friend."

"Well then, God bless you. It's the Christian way to do for others, it's a habit young people don't develop enough these days."

Indigo looked at the outfit she'd just stripped off and then to the kind looking woman. "Well I know better, Sister, and like they say ‘Old habits are hard to break.'"

*  *  *

"Yesterday you were deathly afraid of this woman and now you want to sneak into her house. Am I understanding you correctly?" Piper was sitting at her desk looking out the window enjoying the beautiful fall day, Hill's voice emanating from the speakerphone behind her. It had been fairly quiet since she came in after visiting Hill, but then their prospective buyer was out riding around town on a motorcycle and not skulking around trying to find ways to steal the company from beneath them.

As Hill weaved through traffic on the way back to the office, her mind stayed focused on the painting in the rectory and the resemblance to Kendal and Piper. Even if Piper didn't pay her another dollar to work the case, she wanted to find out more about the woman staying at Oakgrove. The coincidence of the person in the painting being the original owner and Kendal's doppelganger was too great. Genetics, no matter how prefect, do not produced two people who looked so much alike after so much time. Why they had added Piper to the scene was too bizarre to even contemplate.

"You don't have to go with me, Piper. I'm just saying I'm going no matter what. After last night she thinks I'm off her tail so what's to lose here?"

"Oh no, if you're going then I'm going. Give me twenty minutes and then pick me up at my place. If we're going sneaking I have to change into something more comfortable."

The thought of making this call after she got back from the plantation occurred to Hill now that she pictured herself and the tempestuous blond sneaking anywhere. It would have been much easier alone. "If you want I'll just take pictures and write up a report by tonight. Besides, you don't know what's crawling out there in those woods."

"Twenty minutes, Hill. Don't be late."

The dial tone in her ear precluded Hill from making any other excuses. Now her only hope was that the most dangerous weapon Kendal had in the house was a sword. It wasn't legal to shoot someone on their own property, but she'd make up some reason if it came down to that.

"Next time just go first and talk later, bozo, because at the end of the day if you're not careful that little blonde's going to get you killed." Hill tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel as she talked to herself. She was still going though, even if it meant having to carry Piper on her back to get there and gagging her once they arrived.

When Hill got to Piper's condo she found that they were both wearing similar outfits. Jeans, boots and long sleeves would help if the place they landed was infested with bugs. Piper also had a pair of binoculars hanging around her neck and a bag with snacks. Hill wondered if she had misunderstood where they were headed. The woman looked ready to attend a sporting event not go trespassing in someone's yard.

"There's nothing in there that crunches, right?"

"I didn't get lunch ok, take it easy. It's not like we're sneaking into the house. Who's going to hear us eating potato chips while we're hiding under a bush?"

The same woman who snuck up on me on a really big horse and threatened to slice me into little pieces, that's who, thought Hill as she studied the tops of her boots when her head dropped to her chest. "Let's go before it gets much later. We still have to find a way across the lake."

"No problem there. Granddad keeps an old rowboat out there. I asked him before I left the office since he owns the property next door the nun told you about. Don't you find it odd that Kendal is so friendly with these religious types?" asked Piper as they made their way to the car. "She doesn't look like the type you know. If you'd told me she'd attended a cult meeting it would have made more sense."

Hill opened the door for Piper before heading around to the driver's side. "There are lots of things we don't know about Kendal. You were right about that. If we're lucky there'll be more people there with her that we'll be able to see and photograph. That'll give us some new outlets to follow to find out more about our subject."

They had known each other too long for Piper not to notice when Hill was hiding something. She had left out some detail from her morning surveillance. The question was, why? "Maybe so, let's hope so anyway. There was nothing else your little penguin friend told you right? Something that would help us out?"

"No," answered Hill shaking her head for emphasis. Problem was they were sitting at a red light and she didn't look Piper in the eye when she answered. Telling her boss she saw Kendal in a really old painting done before her great grandmother was even born was something she wasn't ready to do. Piper would have her committed in a heartbeat if she followed that up with telling her she had seen her likeness in the painting as well.

"There's nothing more you want to tell me?"

The light turned green and Hill floored it, crossing over two lanes of traffic to make it on the interstate ramp. "There's nothing more to say. She told me about the lake, that she visited the place a couple of times and she explained a painting hanging in the hallway." Please don't ask me about the painting and I won't have to lie.

"What, are you becoming an art connoisseur?" Piper wrote off the omission as Hill trying to protect her tough guy image.

"They just seem eager for the public to take an interest in what their history is, it's not big deal."

Piper kept quiet the rest of the trip, content to just watch the scenery go by, thinking about the summers she'd spent at her grandfather's place as a child. It was on the tire swing he'd strung up for her from one of the large oaks in the back that he told her of her father's death. To a six-year-old, car accident didn't sound so permanent. She figured her father just went away to be happy after her mother had died. The executive had no memory of her mother, but had vivid memories of the good looking blond man who read to her and hardly ever smiled.

Granddad Mac was different though. He laughed and danced with her and her grandmother every night when he got home from work. When she was old enough to understand what the Dupont name stood for, there was no keeping her out of the office. Piper had carried them further than they should have gotten before someone like Kendal came along. Only thing was, the bleeding of red ink had been too severe for too long for Piper to make a lasting difference. But she wasn't giving up. To lose now would be tantamount to disappointing the two people who she admired most in the world. Mac and her grandmother Molly were everything to her, and she would not let the end of their life come without Dupont Enterprises still being in business.

"If you turn here it'll take you all the way back to the dock. Granddad said the boat should be tied up and ready to go if someone didn't borrow it," said Piper pointing out a dirt road where the Oakgrove fence line ended. The same excitement she used to feel as a child whenever she made a break for the property line to go explore was back. Back then, whenever she tried Mac was always too quick for her stopping her before she got into trouble.

Hill went slowly so the car wouldn't kick up too much dust alerting anyone watching the fence that they were coming. She was praying that Kendal would be outside riding again so she could take some pictures. If she could get a clear shot her first stop after developing it was the rectory to compare it to the painting. After her search for printed articles about Kendal, Hill was amazed at how little first hand information was available. Kendal had never given anyone an interview and there really weren't any photographs when she was mentioned in an article. Unlike Donald Trump, this was one mogul who kept a low profile.

"You want to do the rowing?" Hill asked Piper when they reached the end of the pier.

"And deprive you of the pleasure? I wouldn't dream of it, Hill. Come on, chop chop. When we get to the other side I'll give you a chip."

It was a little before noon when they shoved off. Hill plowing the water with powerful strokes. "Man, that nun said this was a small lake," complained Hill after thirty minutes of rowing.

"Call a nun a liar and you may get struck by lighting," teased Piper. They were both whispering as the shore got closer. When they landed the only thing they didn't know was how far back from the house they were.

They found a stand of willow trees that would keep the boat out of sight so they tied off and waited to make sure they were alone by the water. The one lucky thing they had going for them was fall in Louisiana meant most of the foliage was still on the trees to give them good coverage.

After a short walk to the east, the two women came to a clearing free of any bushes or shrubs signaling they were in for a long walk around it if they wanted to keep from being seen. The house was still nowhere in sight and Hill hoped they could find their way out if sunset came before they were done. With a quick pull, Hill yanked Piper further into the trees. Any complaint from the blonde died in the echo of an approaching horse. Both their chests were heaving as they pressed themselves up to tree trunks big enough to hide them. I am one with the tree, I am one with the tree, Piper repeated the mantra in her head as the clip clop of hooves stopped close to where they'd been standing.

Kendal stopped Ruda at the first sign of the clearing she was headed for. Again she hadn't saddled him wanting to let him roam on his own without too many hindrances while she worked out. Her skills had never lost their edge but with the numbers her brother had amassed, a little practice wouldn't hurt. The last thing she needed was to let them capture her and lock her way from the sun. Sleep was never unwelcome, but to lose this fight might mean a shift in power. Mankind could not afford any carelessness on her part.

The grass felt cool when she dropped to the ground. She slapped Ruda on the rump after taking the bit out of his mouth watching as he headed for a small patch of clover the morning frost hadn't killed off. Kendal headed for the center of the clearing at a slow pace enjoying the midday sun on her shoulders and the soft grass under her bare feet. This was sacred ground to her, the one place where only the grass grew; no crops had ever touched the soil here.

It was where those who had been under her care had put their dead to rest. Not in crude pine boxes like on other plantations but in the ceremonies of their homeland. Litters had been carried in here and placed on funeral pyres in solemn ceremonies. The prayers had been offered in native tongues as their spirits were welcomed by the flames. Warriors who had died farmers and slaves were welcomed home to whatever afterlife they believed in on this plot of land. Their ashes had long since become one with the soil, blessing the area for those who remembered them. Kendal was their keeper. She remembered every name they'd been given at birth and what place they held within their tribe.

When she reached the center, Kendal dropped to her knees and lifted her hands to the sky. In the language those noble fighters had taught her she gave thanks to their gods that they had lived and that she had known them. She asked for their strength to guide her hands and her heart in the upcoming fight. She finished by asking forgiveness for disturbing their peace by drawing weapons here. Charlie had told her it did them honor to come here and practice, but Kendal believed in covering your bets.

Finished, she opened her eyes and smiled at Charlie who was kneeling next to her in the same position. The sweat on his bare chest probably meant he had run from the house forgoing the ride. Charlie waited as Kendal pulled a strip of cloth from the long pair of gi pants she was wearing. She'd picked a tight black sleeveless t-shirt instead of the traditional wraparound top.

"What's she doing?" whispered Piper right into Hill's ear.

"What's it look like? She's tying on a blindfold."

"What's with the big karate pants?"

"Piper, the secret of surveillance is to sit and observe. When you watch someone it tends to answer the questions that might come up." Hill pressed her finger to her lips to coax the blonde to be quiet.

Kendal finished off the knot of her blindfold facing in the direction of the river. With her back to them Piper and Hill saw the sword strapped to her back and a special belt holding two small axes. The hatchet looking weapons certainly weren't something you'd find at the hardware store. The blades were longer and thinner, almost like they were quarter moons with handles. Through her binoculars Hill could see the whole thing was made of metal with what looked to be leather strips woven together at the grips.

Ready, the two friends bowed to each other and drew their swords. It was a drill of some sort, the two blades moved slowly in unison as if following some choreographed dance. Piper watched thinking how beautiful it looked and how strange it was that she would feel that way. Weapons of any kind scared her, but Kendal made it look like art.

As they continued their movements became a little different because of Kendal's experience. The twirling sword looked almost invisible as she moved it from hand to hand through the different maneuvers she'd use in combat. She widened her stance suddenly and sheathed the sword, drawing the axes just as fast. Now Charlie joined the two women in the woods and just watched. The leather on the unique weapons was new, he had put it on himself when Kendal said she was coming and why, but the blades were old.

They had been a gift from one of the legion commanders who had fought against Genghis Kahn. The tanned warrior with the black hair and blue eyes had been like a hoard all by himself. It was a time of upheaval, but not a time of women warriors. It had been another lifetime lived as a man to help rid the world of a more human evil. None of those she fought with had thought to ask why the talented fighter had asked that pieces of wood be added to the metal when they were forged. It was the one common element in all her weapons except for the sword that had been her fathers.

Wooden stakes through the heart and death by sunlight had been the two things the movies had gotten right about vampires. While the thirst for blood was a given, Kendal was always amused at some of the movies and television shows on the topic. The essence of wood was all that was necessary so that's why her swords worked to destroy the little bastards she came across. Garlic and holy water though were Hollywood hype.

"What in the hell?" Piper said a little too loud for Hill's comfort level. She was just as surprised though to see five heavily armed men arrive in the clearing and head toward Kendal.

Kendal moved into a combative stance with the katana twirling slowly in her hand after she returned one of the small battle-axes to her belt. Two of the men ran forward together and Piper almost screamed at Kendal to take the stupid blindfold off, but it didn't matter. The tall woman met them stroke for stroke not letting them get even close to getting the upper hand. For Hill it was amazing to watch having taken some marshal arts classes for her job. She understood the purpose of the blindfold. In any fight a good fighter relies on much more than their eyes, but she had never seen it carried out to this level. From the grip Piper had on her hand, neither had she.

The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the trees as Kendal added a few new moves. One guy that got too close was taken out with a wicked kick to the jaw. Another two met a similar fate when she made an impossible looking leap then kicked both feet out. In a business suit it was impossible to tell Kendal was that limber. When the fight ended, less than twenty minutes had passed and all five were unarmed and on their knees panting.

For a moment longer Kendal stood with her head cocked listening for any other threat. The blindfold came off when all she could hear was their heavy breathing. "Take as long as you want then run it through again with Charlie, guys. And, Charlie, try not to add too many more bruises or they might not want to play with us again."

From the trees Piper started to get a bad feeling about being there. This woman exuded an aura of danger that would not bode well for them if she somehow figured out they were there. With an insistent tug she pulled on Hill's sleeve to get her moving. Hill though was too fascinated to think about leaving. Instead of finding answers to what made Kendal tick, the afternoon had only served to make a thousand new questions pop into her head.

"Just sit here and stay calm. It'll be better if we wait until they're done before we go." She spoke directly into Piper's ear before looking her in the eye to assure her everything would be fine.

Piper nodded her head in understanding as she tried to even out her breathing. When they both looked back to the field to watch Charlie go through the same dance, they both just as quickly turned to look at each other in shock. Kendal was gone. She had disappeared like vapor in a strong wind.

"Where'd she go?" asked Piper.

Hill shrugged her shoulders as she scanned the area through her field glasses. She thought maybe Kendal had gone to find her horse and was somewhere in the trees. Doing a good imitation of an oscillating fan, Hill's head turned from side to side looking in the general direction of where they had last seen Kendal standing.

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You missed me so much you couldn't stay away?" Kendal asked the facetious question before pressing her lips to the side of Piper's head. She laughed when the blonde gasped then backed up so fast she knocked Hill over. The camera on the ground caught her attention next.

"I can explain," said Hill as she wondered what it would be like to go through life without eyelids.

"Do you recall the last little talk we had, Ms. Jarvis?" Hill nodded her head, her mind in a whirlwind trying to find a way out for both of them. "Did you think I was talking for the simple pleasure of hearing my voice?" Hill shook her head this time still at a loss for a way out.

Kendal straightened out and sighed before offering her hand to Piper. The blonde shrunk back in fear not knowing what to expect. "You kill us and people will know," Piper threatened. "You won't get away with it."

The deadly armed immortal bent at the waist to get her face as close to Piper's as she could to deliver her response. "Want to make a bet?" When she clicked her teeth close to Piper's nose, Hill went down again when the compact body slammed into her. "You two are like a comedy act. Give me you hand, Miss Dupont, I just want to help you up not skewer you." As soon as Piper was on her feet Hill held her hand up, and just as quickly dropped it when Kendal arched a brow in her direction.

"Well it was nice seeing you and all, but we've got to be going," said Piper motioning Hill to get on her feet.

"Not so fast. I'm sure you were just out here bird watching, but just in case you weren't, could I have the camera? I promise to give it back," said Kendal sweetly. With slumped shoulders Hill watched as her subject removed the film, ruining any shots she'd gotten. "The next time, Miss Dupont, if you want to come and see something, or me for that matter, you'll find the front gate much more convenient. Is there something you want to talk about now that you've slogged out here?"

Piper had turned to go but the question and its tone stopped her. Kendal sounded almost sincere, but then so had Kenny when he made his promises. "Why don't you ever stop to think about what you're doing to people's lives when you come in and take everything they've ever worked for?"

"Because people like me don't have feelings, or at least that's what you think." The answer ignited the fire of anger in Piper's eyes and Kendal almost made the mistake of smiling. "I do think about every step I make, believe it or not. Employees of failing companies I acquire get a fair deal since it's not their fault their bosses couldn't keep things running."

"You sanctimonious bitch." It felt good to say it out loud finally. Piper's outburst made Hill wonder if she'd lost touch with reality and the fact Kendal had a big sword and had proven she knew how to use it. "It's easy to tear things down instead of working to build something meaningful."

"You're a little sanctimonious yourself, lady, since you've done nothing but tear me down from the first moment you laid eyes on me." Kendal let a little anger seep into her voice but she kept the distance between them. "I don't know what else you want from me. I told you I wasn't interested in Dupont."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I could say none of your business and be done with it, but if I do I assume I can only look forward to more of Ms. Jarvis' company while I'm here. The reason I'm still here is to attend to a family matter. What that matter concerns though really isn't any of your business."

Piper crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one foot. The pose made her look like a bratty girl not getting her way. "Yeah right."

"I tell you what, have your attorney draft up a sort of promissory note. If I go after Dupont or get involved in your business in anyway I'll owe you whatever it'll take to get you out of debt."

"I'll do it," threatened Piper.

"And I'll sign it. I figure it's the only way I have of getting rid of you." Kendal looked a the hand Piper was holding out, noticing if she wanted to shake it she'd have to close the gap between them. She moved forward half way and held out her own hand. When Piper took it, Kendal squeezed slightly and added one more thing. "Just remember, Miss Dupont, if you want my involvement you'll have to come begging."

"When hell freezes over."

"I've been to hell. There are no cold days," said Kendal in a glib voice.

"Then there's your answer."

Kendal let out a low whistle that made Ruda appear at her side. The stallion bent his head to accept the bit, pawing at the ground as if anxious to go. With the same acrobatic agility Piper and Hill had just seen, Kendal leapt onto his back and kicked his sides to get him moving.

"How rude, she didn't even say goodbye."

The P.I. picked up the ruined film and jammed it into her pocket. She snorted at Piper thinking she would've turned out better with a few spankings under her belt. "The nerve of her not to invite us up to the house for tea after you called her a bitch. What is the civilized world coming to?"

"She asked for it. Kendal Mackey walks around like she owns the world and everyone in it. I bet she doesn't know what to do with herself when somebody stands up and tells her something." Piper followed Hill back to the boat making as much noise as possible now that the tenant knew they were there. "It's easy when you just have everything handed to you. She probably doesn't know what putting in a day at the office is like."

Hill stopped so abruptly that Piper ran into her. "Not to defend her, but do you ever read the reports I write up for you?"

"I'm busy, Hill. It's not like I've got time to read line by line."

"Her father was a dock worker, not the original CEO of Mackey, Inc. She made her fortune one day at the office at a time. All the stuff I've read about her and her business ethic says she's a straight shooter."

"Are you saying I'm not," challenged Piper, fists on her hips.

"I'm saying that you might've been better off with Kendal Mackey in your corner than as your enemy. You're so angry with her because she one upped you about Kenny Delaney that you can't see straight."

"Straight is the last thing Kendal is, and watch yourself, Hillary."

Hill put her hands out and looked into Piper's eyes. "I'm not telling you all this to point out your mistakes. I'm telling you because I'm your friend and it's the truth."

"Thank you, but it's all moot anyway. Now that I don't have to worry about this looter, I can concentrate on saving Dupont." Piper stepped into the boat and pulled out her chips leaving Hill to shake her head and grab the oars.

"Good luck to you on that one, sweetheart, you're going to need it," said Kendal from the branch above their head. They were so busy snapping twigs and talking they paid no attention to how far she had ridden or if she'd ridden off at all. "Today was one of those days you should have spent in the office instead of running after dead ends. The real looters are at the gate and about to storm the castle."

She watched as Hill pushed off before sitting in the center section to start the job of rowing back. Kendal closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the oars hitting the water in an attempt to relax. With it being fall, she had three more hours before the sun went down. Three hours closer to finding Abez and ending his miserable existence.

The docks were lined with ships waiting to be loaded with the different crops just brought in from harvest. There were throngs of people walking around bundles of dried tobacco leaves, which sat next to bales of cotton waiting to be shipped to northern ports and their mills. For those who owned large spreads like Jacques, it was a time of negotiation followed by the lull of winter. For those who worked the land it was a time of respite before the cycle began again.

"You finished unloading?" asked the merchant Jacques dealt with.

"Twenty more bales of cotton and we're done." Jacques took his hat off and wiped his brow on his sleeve. Despite the cool air it was easy to work up a sweat unloading the wagons.

"You sure don't act like a land owner, Jacques. Don't take this wrong, but you're an odd man, or at least like no man from around here."

"That's because I'm not like any man from around here, or from anywhere when you get down to it. I like to work, Michael. That's why I harvest more than any other place outside the city. Sitting on my porch drinking lemonade isn't my style." They shared a laugh before Jacques went back to helping his men unload the rest of the cotton bales.

"Lionel, take the men over to the general store and start on the lists we put together." Twice a year all the people living at Oakgrove loved with Jacques went into town to pick up supplies for everyone who worked the land and their children. A trip to the general store meant a new pair of shoes, work boots, dresses, shirts and all the candy Michael had in stock. No one living on the plantation was left out, not even those who hadn't arrived yet. The bolts of cloth the men brought back were turned into baby clothes in the winter months by the loving hands of expecting mothers.

"You got it, boss." In public the slave always used a proper term of respect, but at home Lionel now called him Jacques. The trip they had taken together, and all that came after, had made them friends.

"You weren't leaving without coming to see me, were you?"

Lionel leaned forward and gently hit Jacques in the stomach after the miffed sounding woman asked the question. "You're a man in trouble now, boss."

Jacques turned around and smiled for Angelina. Months had taught him she had a hard time resisting it. "And miss the pleasure of your company? I would rather be drug behind my horse, dear lady."

"I'd rather you didn't. I'm rather fond of that handsome face." She moved closer but he moved faster. If anyone was watching he wanted to be seen as the pursuer not Angelina. It was something not becoming a lady of her standing.

"I'd give up my land for a bath at this moment." He leaned in and whispered to her. "I'm so filthy I can't even kiss your hand."

"We may read about it in the Gazette tomorrow but I'm willing to chance it." Without hesitation she put up her hand for him to take, sorry that she had put on gloves before leaving the house. Her hand and her cheek were the only places she had felt his lips and she was ready to move forward and have Jacques be not quite so gentlemanly. But at the same time she was grateful he was so gentle with her. Angelina didn't know how she would respond if Jacques had been as forward as the few young men she had accepted invitations from to different events.

"Please tell me you're finished cutting and gathering everything you had growing out there? I love Uncle Tomas, but I'd much rather spend my evenings looking at you."

Jacques laughed and kissed her hand again. "I won't tell him you said so, and that sounds suspiciously like something I would tell you." He squeezed her fingers gently before letting her hand go and stepping back a step. "I may be prejudiced, but my nights looking into your green eyes are a slice of paradise." Getting the blush he was after, Jacques turned his attention to Dee. "And how is the second most beautiful girl in New Orleans?"

"Master St. Louis, you'd best behave or Miss Angelina may lock me out of the house when we get home." The girl didn't protest though when he bowed over her hand and treated her to the same greeting as her mistress.

"It's this rogue who I may lock out," teased Angelina getting them both to laugh.

"Then should I cancel my visit for this afternoon?"

"Not if you know what's best for you. I haven't seen you in weeks." Angelina pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she thought of all the empty evenings she's endured in his absence.

"I wouldn't do that to you. Just let me get cleaned up and get on a fresh suit." Jacques looked past Angelina and whispered loudly to Dee. "Do you think you could persuade this lovely creature to don her prettiest dress and get the old coot to wear something appropriate for an evening out?"

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Good, I have a surprise for her but you have to promise to keep it a secret."

"I'm sure she won't guess a thing, Master St. Louis."

Jacques arrived two hours later in a hired carriage looking like someone had scrubbed him from head to foot. The planter's hat he was fond of was left behind in the hotel room and replaced with a top hat more in line with fashion.

The young man who answered the door relieved him of his cloak, hat and the flowers he'd brought for Angelina. He promised to put them in water and have them brought up to her room. Jacques thanked him and followed Tomas's voice into the study.

"Ah good, I see my niece's moping has come to an end and here stands the reason why. How goes it, Jacques?"

"I'm finished and we were able to surpass last year's totals so I'm good. Better now that I'll have time to spend with the two of you."

"Then perhaps you'll have time to show Uncle Tomas and I Oakgrove," said Angelina from the doorway.

The dress she had picked was the same shade of dark blue as Jacques' eyes and the seamstress had even made a matching bow for her hair. Any doubt in her selection disappeared when Jacques stood from the couch and took hold of both her hands.

"Do you like it?" she asked. There was a little uncertainty in her voice when Jacques just stood as if mute.

"No, my dear, I don't like it, I love it. You look better than any dream I've had of you over these past weeks."

Tomas cleared his throat feeling like an intruder in his own home. "Playing hard to get is doing wonders for you, sweetheart," he kidded Angelina.

"Don't worry, Tomas, Angelina is perfectly safe in my company."

The older man accepted Jacques' hand to help him to his feet. "If I were afraid of that you wouldn't be here, young man. Angelina is precious to me."

"As she is to me, Monsieur," said Jacques just as seriously.

To break up the moment Angelina came and looped her arm through her uncle's. "Where are you taking us this evening?" she asked Jacques.

"First to dinner then I have a surprise for you two." He put his hand up before she could ask where. "It's not a surprise if I tell you."

The carriage took them to the city's finest restaurant where the du'Pons brought Jacques up to date on what was going on in town while he had been stuck at Oakgrove. As they talked over coffee at the end of their meal, one of the young men who had tried unsuccessfully to court Angelina in the past walked to their table and interrupted Jacques mid sentence.

"Angelina, Monsieur du'Pon, how are you both this evening?" asked the well-dressed young man as he bowed slightly.

"Rather well until just now, Winston. What brings you into our company?" asked Tomas. He didn't' want to be rude as well, but then it would be interesting to see how Jacques reacted to a little competition.

"There's a production tonight at the new theater that's touted to be quite good. Since your niece looks so lovely this evening I thought she might would do me the honor of joining me as soon as you were done here." Winston pulled two tickets from his jacket pocket. "I have some of the last tickets available."

The blonde looked to Jacques in disbelief as he hadn't jumped in to say anything. "I'm sure, Mademoiselle du'Pon is free to attend with whomever she chooses, but I was rather hoping she would join me in the box I bought for the opening performance." Jacques pulled three tickets of his own. With a smile he told Angelina, "Surprise."

It was then that Angelina knew that she would follow wherever Jacques St. Louis chose to lead her, because wherever it might be, she would always be safe in his care. Later she was not able to tell anyone what the comedy was about, or if it was any good. But she could write sonnets about how his hand felt holding hers for the whole performance.

At the end of the evening Jacques escorted them both home and helped Tomas up the stairs to his room. Sitting for such a long time through dinner and then the play had left his hip almost numb. Angelina was waiting for him in the parlor when he came down.

"Thank you for tonight."

"You're very welcome, and may it be the first of many evenings we spend together." Dee looked up from her needlepoint for only a moment to offer the sweet man a smile. "It's late, I'll leave you to get some rest."

"Dee, would you please get me a glass of warm milk?" Angelina just wanted a moment alone with him before Jacques left.

"Don't do anything I'll get in trouble for later," she told Jacques before heading out to the kitchen.

"Something like this perhaps?" asked Jacques when the young woman left the room. Slowly he moved toward Angelina and gathered her in his arms. The lips he had first seen splattered with mud were too enticing to ignore any longer.

At first Angelina didn't know what to do with her hands. It was as if her brain had melted when he pressed his lips to hers. She was about to protest when he pulled away until she saw it was only to guide her hands to rest on his shoulders.

"Shall we try that again?"

"Yes please," Angelina answered in a soft dreamy voice. She fought an overwhelming urge to pull loose the ribbon holding his hair back so she could run her fingers through it.

"Go get some sleep because I have one more surprise for you," said Jacques as he pulled away reluctantly when Dee's footsteps could be heard down the hall.

The night was the longest of her life wondering what Jacques had planned. By late morning Angelina and Tomas were riding up the entrance to Oakgrove for a visit. All of the families living in the slave quarters were there to greet them and to thank Jacques for his generosity. Along with the personal supplies Lionel had brought home were supplies to improve the cabins where they lived. After thanking Jacques they all introduced themselves to Angelina and her uncle. Each set of parents showed off their children and told them how some of them were related.

"This is a little different than I expected," Angelina remarked as she walked the grounds with the master of the house.

"How so?"

"They don't look miserable," she said referring to the slaves. "I believe you to be a fair-minded man, but even you have your limits.

"I can't do for the world, Angelina, but I can do for them. Within these thousand acres we live by my rules, and that is a life of tolerance and respect. The outside world has no say here on how my people are treated."

She pulled him to a stop wanting his full attention. "What makes you so wise?"

"A long time ago I learned a valuable lesson from a ruler who was perhaps born before her time. She believed that a person is born a slave by circumstance not by choice or design. Sometimes though, when someone like that is given the opportunity they can rule the known world." As Jacques told her his beliefs he thought of a young Hebrew slave who became queen of Egypt because the pharaoh believed in her.

"How lucky for them to find their way here to you. Because trust me, it could be so much worse."

"If they had luck on their side, they'd still be in their homeland. Given time that's exactly where I'd like to see them. Can you imagine never seeing your child again and not knowing what happened to him or her?" He started them walking again until they got to the small lake at the center of the property. Under one of the trees shading the bank he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. "As important as the state of the world and our place in it may be, the reason I wanted to bring you here is to tell you something even more so."

She hoped they were thinking along the same lines so she blurted her feelings out into the open. "I love you."

Jacques looked flummoxed when the words left her lips making Angelina doubt his feelings were the same. "I…I love you as well. So much so that I will lose a part of myself if I lose you."

"You'll never lose me, silly. I'm glad you brought me here because I can see now it's where I belong. You are who I belong to, Jacques, and only you can give my heart away." She pulled on his lapels and laughed. "Now I demand you seal your profession with a kiss."

Kendal thought about how different things might have turned out by this lake had she said what she had planned. She had loved Angelina as much as she had professed that day but it wasn't fair to the beautiful young woman not to know the full truth about the "man" she had fallen in love with.

Had Angelina known sooner might she have run back to someone like Winston? Would she have chosen someone who could give her a life and children to care for in her later years? Those questions were pure speculation now. After that one blissful moment on this spot their lives had changed and the nightmare had begun.

"I owe it to you now, love, to make things as right as I can," Kendal said to the water. What had happened in that lifetime and what resulted from that still haunted her, and it had made her lose a bit of her humanity.

*  *  *

His eyes opened as soon as the sun went down. She was coming and this time nothing he did would stop her. Abez thought of all their meetings through the years and how his sister's hate for him had grown to rival his for her. He'd had an ideal life until their parents decided to have another child. The perfect child is exactly what they'd gotten the second time around. Asra had grown taller, stronger and smarter than he ever wanted to be, and he had tried to make her pay from the beginning.

The last time they had faced each other she had left him wounded and he'd had to run for his life. It was only through good planning that the opportunity to run at all had been possible. "That was then, Asra, and as these subhumans like to say, ‘it's a new day.'"

He opened the lid of his resting place and opened the two doors that would let him out into the night. Jacques, as he was calling himself in this lifetime, had a house nearby but not even his most trusted fledglings knew where he slept during the daylight hours. The reason he had lived so long and grown so powerful was that he trusted no one.

When he entered the house at the cusp of the French Quarter there was a large gathering of people who bowed their heads as he passed. All of them were his children, all his creations made for the specific purpose of destroying the warrior of the Order. In the world there was only one left who was stronger than Abez and it was she he didn't want to disappoint.

"The hunter is coming tonight." Jacques sat in the chair set up at the head of the dining room. His words caused some of those gathered to look at each other in concern. They had been given free reign in the city for years, none of them worried about anyone being able to kill them.

"We are here to serve you, master," one of the young men who had been with Jacques the longest said. Troy had been a river rat who lived off whatever he could steal until he ran into Jacques one night. In one moment his life had been transformed and he had gone from being one of the forgotten to one of the feared.

"Yes you are, and remember one thing. Fail me and your place in hell will be haunted by my vengeance for the rest of eternity. My sister is very good so don't take her for granted. I made you and gave you dominion over man, let me down and I'll put you out for the sun myself."

One of the young women close to Jacques looked up at him in total disbelief. "Master, the warrior is your sister?"

"The one and only Asra, Captain of the Pharaoh Ramses' elite fighting legion. In life she was awe inspiring as a fighter, or at least those were the stories bards spun in taverns. As an immortal though, I consider her god like. The Order chose well, but so have I in choosing all of you." Jacques leaned forward and ran his fingers through the young woman's hair. She looked up again with a look of ecstasy liking the feel of the cold on her scalp. "I want you all to go out and seek until you find her." When the girl went to get up, Jacques moved from a caress to pulling her hair to keep her in place. "Not you."

"I live to please you, master."

Jacques smiled at her showing the tips of his canines before looking back at the others. "Go," the order was followed by bodies moving rapidly out the door.

"How can I please you, master?" asked the girl when they were alone.

"What's your name?"

"Veronica, master."

"Veronica, this is what you can do to please me." Jacques whispered to her getting her to nod at almost his every word. When he was done he licked along her ear loving the shiver of pleasure it produced. "Such loyalty deserves a reward, precious." He snapped his fingers and Troy dragged in a scared young girl who looked to be around thirteen. "Enjoy."

Veronica pounced in a very cat like fashion holding the child close to the front of her body. The tender flesh tore open easily and the gush of warm salty blood almost caused her to swoon. She could feel it coursing through her body in orgasmic fashion since she could taste the fear along with her feast. Slowly the body grew limp and Veronica cut their connection before the final life spirit left the young body.

With the same feline grace Veronica walked toward Jacques, leaned over him and pressed her mouth to his. He accepted the kiss that filled his mouth with blood and his manhood with passion. His minion was more than happy to take care of that need as well. When she straddled Jacques, Troy left the room to start prowling the streets for Kendal or prey. He didn't care which.

"I'll gift you her heart, master," said Veronica before the final shiver ran through her body.

*  *  *

Kendal got off the bike and stood for almost ten minutes just listening to the world around her with her eyes closed. Whatever guilt, anger or any other destructive emotion she was feeling was left at Oakgrove the minute she armed herself and headed into town. Next to her, Charlie was doing the same or trying to with the same accuracy as his teacher. He was able to filter out all the traffic and bar noises coming from the general vicinity trying to find the abnormality if there was one.

"Kendal, can I ask you something?"

She opened her eyes in almost lazy fashion. "Sure."

"Aren't people going to freak when they see two people walking down the street with swords and enough sharp implements to start a small war?"

"Probably, if we decided to walk down the street that is, but we're not taking that route."

"We're not?"

Kendal pointed up, "No, we're not. There are two things about this place that makes it desirable to my brother and us." She bounced a little on the balls of her feet ready to get going. "It's heavily populated by people society won't miss or care little about when they show up drained. Which is good hunting grounds if blood is part of your diet." The warrior help up two fingers before moving to her next point, smiling at the shiver Charlie was doing thinking about the blood diet she'd referred to. "And two, because space is precious here most of the buildings are connected."

"And that's benefits us how?"

"If you want to take a stroll with enough sharp implements to start a small war, which we are, you have the rooftops to stroll along. "Ready?" He nodded and watched as she took off at a run. With ease she grabbed hold of a flagpole hanging over someone's door, flipped around a couple of times and propelled herself onto the rooftop. "Care to take a walk with me?" she asked from the edge.

Charlie followed quickly, not wanting to miss out on any of the action. She'd been right. Aside from a few short leaps and differences in the height of some buildings, most of them were connected. They walked until they reached Bourbon Street.

Bourbon was a popular strip because it was a smorgasbord of sin from one end to the other. In the whole country there was no place like it. The one spot local and tourists flocked to in equal numbers. There were bars, strip joints, live sex shows and a smattering of restaurants to round out the mix. When the sun went down the barricades went up to close the strip to car traffic and like a lazy river of humanity people walked from place to place doing a different kind of window-shopping.

There were the old joints like Big Daddy's with its row of poles on the stage and lethargic looking dancers, and the classier places like Rick's Cabaret with their perfect surgically enhanced beauties. If it was tits and ass you were looking for this was the place to find it, but for those who liked to study people the real entertainment was found, not with the naked souls trying to make a living, but on the street.

Here you found shocked looking visitors taking pictures of the drag queens and leather crowd who gladly posed with people with sensible shoes who felt slightly naughty just for venturing out among the decadent. Sprinkled in to add more flavor were the religious zealots holding signs promising a fiery afterlife for participating in the moral decay the area was famous for. No one ever took the leaflets they were handing out, and if their did, they littered the street several feet away.

Kendal stood at the edge looking down at the street over one of the newer bars. Gothic dress and hard rock were the theme and only those appropriately decked out in black ventured inside. "Have a seat, this won't take long," Kendal told Charlie. Since Jacques knew why she was there, she knew they would be traveling in packs. If they couldn't defeat her by skill they would try by sheer numbers.

"Kendal, look," Charlie pointed his chin down the street.

"I see them, now we just need to get them to see us." Kendal stood and opened the long coat she was wearing enough so she could put her hands on her hips.

They were all laughing and walking shoulder-to-shoulder harassing people as they went. To those walking close to them it was a signal to stay clear of them lest they find trouble they couldn't handle. To the others used to seeing these groups of young punks, they wrote them off as sewer rats. It was a term the locals used to describe the young runaways who came to the Quarter to escape abuse and other misery at home only to find prostitution and drugs on the streets. Kendal knew better though. These little punks might've started out that way, but from the pallor of their skin and their mannerisms, they had evolved into something much more dangerous.

It was the youngest of the bunch in physical appearance who looked up first and stopped walking. The guy who'd been walking next to her stopped to see why she'd stopped. Kendal waggled her fingers at them and smiled wide enough to show white perfect teeth. The move sent them into action, moving like a pack of wolves after a wounded deer.

"Tell me where Jacques is and I let you walk away," said Kendal facing all twenty of them once they had clamored up to the roof.

"We will never betray the master. Are you the warrior he spoke of?" asked the young woman who had first spotted her.

"Please let's not be so formal. Call me Kendal, and you, I'll call you Hoover bait."

"Hoover bait?" the girl asked.

"Dust, darlin'." Kendal's hand moved so fast the joke didn't' register. The knife split the young woman's heart and instantly the wind blew away any proof of her existence when the female vampire turned to dust.

The katana appeared next along with one of the small battle-axes she'd worked with that afternoon. "Shall we dance?"

Charlie was momentarily shocked into stillness when the rest of them charged forward. When their faces had transformed to their more hideous features elongating their foreheads with ridges, flattened noses and snarling jaw lines, a memory from when he had first seen the phenomenon paralyzed him. Had he been alone he would've been an easy target.

But he wasn't. The quick sword and slashing axe made quick work of the young vampires. Their lack of real strength and fighting ability was a clue as to how recently they had joined Jacques. She put her weapons away and put her hand on Charlie's' shoulder to bring him back from his trip down memory lane.

"I'm so sorry." He looked around and they were all gone.

"Nothing to be sorry about. You ok?"

"It made me think back to when I first saw him."

Kendal squeezed his shoulder. "You don't owe me an explanation and you didn't do anything wrong. Come on, let's go find more trouble."

They found four more packs before Kendal called it a night. As far as her brother's numbers it was a small percentage, but they had to start somewhere. Charlie had come around to what their purpose was and had performed perfectly. Another couple of weeks of this and Jacques would have no choice but to send out his better and older fighters. Once that happened it would be a matter of time before she flushed him out.

Sunrise was an hour away when they got back to the house. Charlie waved over his shoulder as he headed to his cabin. No amount of requests from Kendal for him to move into the main house had gotten him to leave the only home he'd ever known since being brought to the states. She was about to turn the knob of the front door when it hit her conscious brain. The birds in the oak by the master suite were gone. There was no cooing or predawn chirping like the other mornings.

Kendal unclipped her whip from her belt and let the coil drop to the floor of the porch. She didn't use it often but for what she had in mind it was perfect. There was no time for her adversary to react when Kendal moved. One second she was standing by the door and the next she ran up the side of the large tree trunk and balanced on a limb. With a very accurate aim her arm flew forward and the leather wrapped around the woman's throat like an extension of her hand. One strong pull and the trespasser was knocked off her perch.

The woman's legs kicked in midair as she pawed at her neck to release the hold of the whip. After a minute the struggle gave way to blackness and Kendal dropped her bundle to the ground. To make sure there would be no unpleasant surprises she delivered a blow to the back of the woman's head before lifting the limp body and flinging it over her shoulder.

She laughed as she thought of Piper's threat, ‘You kill us and people will know.' "Want to make a bet, was right on the money. See people should take me more seriously about shit like this," said Kendal to the night air as she moved deeper into the woods headed for the lake.

The trees gave way to a long pier and Kendal dumped her load at the very end. She used the whip to tie her captive to the last piling. "Wakey, wakey," sang Kendal as she slapped the woman's face with not so soft taps.

The blonde head snapped up and panic flooded the green eyes when she found she couldn't move. "Please let me go."

"We'll get to that, but first I want to know what you're doing here?" Kendal leaned back on the bench Charlie had obviously added to fish from. She crossed her booted feet and waited.

"You don't understand, you've got to let me go now."

A large inhale of air from Kendal was not the answer she was looking for. "Smell that? Don't you find the air changes just a tad before the beginning of a new day? It's sweeter somehow."

"Please I'll do whatever you want, just let me go."

"Oh, I'm thinking you're in no position to be making promises and since time is of the essence," Kendal stopped a looked at her in question wanting to know her name.

"Veronica, master."

"I'm not your master, but I'm dying to see him so how about you tell me where I can find him and I'll consider your request."

The innocent looking face dropped and she begged again. "Anything but that. I'll do anything but that."

"Ok," Kendal wasn't falling for the innocent act. This beautiful woman was just like the rest of them. No matter how they looked they all had the same monster living inside. The instinct to kill was all they knew. She got up and started back toward the house.

"Wait," screamed Veronica.

"Tell me or pray for a large vat of sunscreen to drop from the sky."

"I can't tell you what I don't know," the blonde sounded desperate.

Kendal walked back and grabbed the bowed head. "Why do you think he sent you here, little idiot?"

"He loves me and trusts me," she answered with conviction.

"He scarified you like a dog is what he did." Kendal got close to her showing no fear. "Jacques is a simple thinker and there's nothing wrong with that. What is wrong, or stupid, depends on how you want to look at it, is thinking everyone else has the same mindset."

The long fingers holding her head up felt so different from Jacques'. Kendal's hand felt almost hot where it touched her, like she radiated heat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at you." Kendal's hand moved to below Veronica's chin. "Young, beautiful, blonde hair, green eyes — the list of physical attributes is complete to what he thinks will tempt me. What was supposed to happen tonight?" Fingertips ran up Veronica's chin to her brow. "You seduce me into lowering my guard, and then what? What did you promise him?"

For an instant Veronica morphed and let the beast out to scare Kendal back but it didn't work. She needed to do something quickly though because her skin was starting to prickle. "Your heart," she decided to answer honestly.

Satisfied with the response, Kendal moved back and sat on the bench. Her skin was starting to tingle as well but for a completely different reason. "How long ago did he change you?"

"Twelve years since I've been give the gift." Her hands fought with the knots Kendal had tied. "Why do you thrive in the sun when we don't?"

"Because I was given life by someone who believes in the living. You were given time by someone who believes only in death." Kendal sat in silence after her answer looking like she was thinking hard about something. She took another deep breath before standing and towering over her captive. "Today I'll give you something precious to make up for what's happened to you."

"What?" hissed Veronica as she struggled with her bindings. She was starting to sweat blood. The reality of what was coming sinking in with an overwhelming fear.

Kendal wiped her finger along Veronica's brow smearing the blood like war paint before running her finger along the woman's lips for one last taste of what had up to then had given her life as well as pleasure. "Release."

When Kendal started towards the house, Veronica saw something she didn't realize until just then she missed. The first pink fingers of dawn crept across the sky. In her last attempt to please Jacques, she didn't give Kendal the satisfaction of screaming when the light seared through her like a laser. The pain was severe but thankfully it was short lived. With a quiet thump the whip fell to the pier no longer having a body to hold in place.

*  *  *

Indigo was waiting on the porch with a cup of coffee in her hand when Kendal walked up. "How'd it go?" She stopped Kendal on the bottom step wanting to be eye level with her.

The contents of the mug smelled so good Kendal took a sip before answering. "What's that old Queen song you like so much?"

"Another one bites the dust? I always thought that should be your theme song."

"Multiply that by a lot and it sums up last night. It was good. I've been a corporate pirate so long I forgot how good it feels to protect and defend."

"You look like a caped crusader in this outfit." The blond leaned in and kissed her, pulling on the lapels of the long coat.

"Yeah? You want to come upstairs and see my special powers?"

The joke made Indigo turn away from her, but not to laugh. They had been through this many times before, but it only got harder the more they had to do it. Realizing what was upsetting the blonde, Kendal took the cup out of her hand and set it on the table. "When do you have to go?"

"I've got time to have breakfast with you then I'll be going." She leaned back into Kendal and laid her hands over the ones on her abdomen. "They said I'm too emotionally involved to be of any use to you here."

"That's bull."

"Maybe they're right. We need time apart so we can both remember our place and our purpose. I care for you, Asra, but I'm not your destiny."

Kendal laughed and kissed Indigo's neck. "My destiny is to be alone. I've never had a problem figuring that one out."

"No, don't ever believe that. You've been so good for so long, I believe life will reward you so you don't continue this journey alone."

"I hope for my sake you're right." Kendal turned her around and kissed her until they both forgot why they were sad. "Are you hungry right this minute?"

"Let's go, superhero, show me your stuff." The staff smiled as they went about their tasks when they heard Indigo's giggles as Kendal carried her up the stairs. If she was on a timeline to leave, Kendal was on the way to messing it up.

They left a trail of clothes from the door to the foot of the bed, neither wanting the encounter to end too soon. No words had to be exchanged for them to know it would be some time before they saw each other again. Once Jacques was destroyed Kendal could go back to finding new ways to reinvent herself until the next challenge came along, and it was only then that Indigo would come back into her life. They both were smart enough to know that whatever the outcome, the Order would keep them apart to assure that no further feelings grew between them upsetting the balance of the teacher/student relationship they were supposed to share.

Indigo slumped bonelessly to Kendal's chest when the intense orgasm was over; amazed once again at the way the warrior's touch made her feel. "That was incredible."

"Thank you and the feeling is mutual. I'm thinking those were your hands somewhere in there making me lose control. Unless that is you snuck someone else in here when I wasn't looking."

"Are you kidding. I know how you feel about group sex." Indigo lifted her head and smiled down at the surprisingly old fashioned woman.

"Sex is not a group activity. I don't care what other people may think."

The blonde laughed thinking about the history of man and what was acceptable in different eras when it came to pleasures of the flesh. The Romans and their orgies had been a different time from the time of the Inquisition. Whatever the time and whatever the practice though, Kendal had been fairly predictable in her tastes. Always women, always one at a time, and always fantastic.

"Lucky for me you're so focused," said the Elder as she went to roll off to the vacant side of the bed.

Kendal held her in place and kissed her. "Stay for just a minute." A small soft finger brushed her brows first then moved to trace her lips. "I'd like a long stretch of time with you like we had in the beginning. When we arrived at that oasis, I seriously thought I'd go insane in a matter of days, but when it was time to go I thought I would lose a part of myself when we had to go our separate ways."

"Thank you. Of all those I've had to teach you were the only one I wanted to share myself with. You have such a good heart, Asra. Before I go, can I ask you something?"

"You have the right to ask me anything."

"Why are you taking the time to mess with this girl. With all you have going on, you don't need the distraction."

Kendal ran her hands down Indigo's back until she reached her bottom. She felt the slight undulation inward when she caressed the smooth skin. They wouldn't be getting up any time soon. "Are you talking about Piper Dupont and her trusty sidekick Hill Jarvis? Thank you by the way on your excellent imitation of a nun."

"You know who I'm talking about. What I don't understand is why? Is it because she can't stand you?"

"I'd be doing pretty good if she just couldn't stand me. I'm thinking more along the lines of she hates me, and I don't have an answer as to why I'm wasting my time. Maybe it's because I tend to take my entertainment wherever I can find it. Piper has the potential to set the world on fire but she's too angry with the world to see her potential."

"It sounds like you like her." Indigo's eyes dropped to Kendal's chest.

Gentle fingers moved to Indigo's chin and moved the green orbs back into view. "Don't be jealous, my precious flower. It's just, well do you know how much it takes to make me angry? I don't think I've felt a good case of outrage in decades, but it took her all of about ten seconds to get my blood boiling. And her grandfather reminds me so much…" started Kendal.

"Of Tomas du'Pon," finished Indigo.

"Sounds crazy huh?"

"No, but you do realize these people aren't Tomas and Angelina right?"

Kendal rolled them over so she was now covering the smaller woman. "Trust me, the day I lose my grip on sanity, I'll throw myself down whatever pit you find suitable. I know who they are and who they aren't. I probably won't get the chance to sit and talk with Mac like I did with Tomas, or develop the same relationship we had, but before I'm done here there might be some way I can find to help them."

"Enough talk," said Indigo as her body started to heat under Kendal's knowing hands. The staff served a late lunch by the time they left the room.

"Remember to be careful. And send word if you need me. This time I don't care what the Order says, if you're in trouble I'm coming back."

"I'll be fine, don't worry. I would like them to not keep you away from me so long. They've got to know by now that we know what the rules are and that we're willing to somewhat abide by them."

"It's the somewhat that forces them to keep us apart, warrior mine," laughed Indigo. She pressed her palm to Kendal's cheek one last time and her eyes got glassy. "I'll miss you."

"Take care," said Kendal before she leaned down and whispered the rest into a delicate ear. "I love you."

Indigo nodded as some of the tears fell. "And I you." Her men moved to the car as their mistress kissed her charge one last time. "Remember to follow your heart in all things." With that said, she was gone.

*  *  *

There was a note from Charlie that he was heading in to town early to start looking for where Jacques was spending his days, so Kendal decided to go in early as well and have a drink and think. Time alone would have sounded strange to some, but Kendal needed it as a way to heal the parts of her mind that still dwelled on the past.

She chose the same bar where she had enjoyed the cigars and scotch before they were ruined by Piper's appearance. The long coat she wore over the weapons that would be needed later was left in the back seat and Kendal walked into the hotel with just a sweater and a pair of brown suede pants. The feel of the slightly rough material against her legs reminded her of the time she spent as a trapper and hunter in what was once known as northern Britannia.

Looking around, Kendal saw that the same table she occupied on her last visit was available and the bartender arrived promptly with a drink before she had leaned back in the leather seat. "Welcome back, Ms. Mackey."

"Thank you," she held up her glass, "And thank you."

He put a small wooden humidor on the table and opened it to an excellent selection of cigars. "Ms. Indigo called and said you might enjoy a relaxing smoke before you have to go to work."

"Never argue with an intelligent woman." He nodded and put down another glass so he wouldn't have to bother her again for awhile.

Set, Kendal let her mind wander wherever it chose, remembering things from different lifetimes that had no set pattern. In her time, and she was still convinced it wouldn't be forever, she had tried to experience as many things as she could. There wasn't a trade she hadn't tried to learn and master and there was nothing she wasn't willing to try. The money she'd made had been set up in banks that only dealt in numbers and by now she could live another two thousand years and not have to work at all, the fortune she'd amassed was so vast. That wasn't as important though as the knowledge she'd gathered. If she chose to sit and write a book, it would change some of the history books.

She laughed at the notions the world had about different things like the importance of women and their place in the world of the past. It had been man who had written most of the history so it was more slanted to their accomplishments and conquests. The same could be said of the bible and other books men now used to keep their faithful flocks in check. The teachings of most philosophers and holy men lost much in translation and the passage of time. It was the heated voices across the bar that pulled her from her musings. When she saw who it was, Kendal couldn't help but shake her head and laugh.

"The bank will be calling in your loans by the end of the week. Either you have the money to pay them off or we move in and take over, it's that simple, Piper."

"You are nothing but a bottom feeding scum sucker."

Kenny Delaney laughed and lifted his empty glass in the direction of the bar. He loved these kinds of meetings where the opponent had no options and couldn't scream too loudly without looking like a nut. Under those circumstance he could jab them with as many verbal zingers as he wanted just to watch them squirm.

"That's a mouthful, darlin', but do you think that's how you should be addressing your new boss?"

"I'd never work for you and there's no way you're taking the company from us." Piper wanted nothing more than to smash the heavy crystal cocktail glass over his head.

"You're so good in bed I might just give you a corner office. We'd never lose another contract if I put you in charge of entertaining the clients." He closed his eyes in time as the contents of Piper's glass hit him in the face. Before she could get up and leave, Kenny grabbed her by the arm and slammed her back in her seat. "You're going to pay for that one."

"Let me go, you're hurting me."

"I haven't begun to hurt you, bitch. Now you're going to find out what it's like to get fucked in every conceivable way. Bedding you, that was charity, this is business and we're not finished."

"Call me crazy, but I believe the lady asked you to let her go." The voice was low and right next to his ear.

Kenny turned to see who it was as he tightened his hold on Piper. There were two blue eyes waiting for him when he focused. "This is a private matter between me and the lady. Get lost."

"I'm sorry, did you think that was a request on my part?" asked Kendal. She pulled the cigar lighter out of her pocket and turned the small torch on. "Care to see if that alcohol aftershave you're wearing courtesy of the lady is flammable?"

He pulled back so fast he toppled himself over in the chair. "Crazy bitch." He pointed to Piper before he got up and left. "Friday at ten, don't be late, and don't forget to bring the old man with you."

"Are you all right?" asked Kendal.

"Just peachy."

If Kendal was expecting gratitude, she wasn't going to get it from her blonde antagonist. With a brief nod she turned around and headed back to her table. Maybe Indigo had been right, she couldn't afford the distraction of Piper any longer, especially if the woman couldn't be civil under any circumstance.

"I'm sorry."

"For what exactly?" asked Kendal. A fine mist started to fall outside and it painted the window she was staring at. The thought of spending the night chasing after bloodsuckers in the cold damp wasn't making Kendal feel too social.

"I'm sorry for being rude to you just now," Piper's confession got Kendal to turn around and look at her. "My fight is with Kenny, and considering how I've treated you, I'm surprised you would come to my aid at all."

"Mental illness runs in my family," Kendal joked waving to the empty chair across from her.

"I could though sue you for breach of verbal agreement to not get involved in any aspect of my business."

"Saving you from the wrath of Kenny is interfering in your business?"

"We were negotiating."

A dark brow raised so high that Piper wondered if it would come down. "Asking you to sleep with his potential clients is negotiating?" Kendal asked incredulously.

"I was about to make my counter offer."

"I can't wait to hear this one."

"It wasn't so much verbal as the glass to go with the drink I threw at him. I didn't get the chance or the satisfaction when you got there and threatened to set his face on fire with that lethal weapon in your pocket." Piper smiled up at the bartender when he put a fresh drink on the table along with one for Kendal.

"I think that's the first time you've strung that many words together in my presence that didn't have to do with wishing me bodily harm." The lethal weapon Piper mentioned made an appearance again and Kendal relit her cigar.

"You have to understand the kind of pressure I've been under lately. I can promise you I'm not usually such a bitch."

The tip of the cigar turned a bright orange as Kendal sucked hard on the other end. "I don't think you're a bitch, Miss Dupont. You're more of what I would call feisty. If I had gone with the bitch notion of you, I'd have bought the company just to teach you a valuable lesson on manners."

"Why didn't you? Buy Dupont I mean."

"Because I know how much it means to your family. I wasn't going to be the one to take it away from you."

Piper nodded and held her drink with both hands. The admonishments of her grandfather came back to her like a brick over the head. Maybe if she'd given Kendal a chance her outlook on the future might be different. "Instead you left us hanging so someone like Kenny could come along and take it."

"I offered to help you, if you remember, and you told me in no uncertain terms to go to hell. Life isn't always about people trying to screw you over, Miss Dupont. Your company is and has been in trouble for a while, my job is to take over firms like that and make them over into something profitable. History teaches us that for everything there is a time and a place. Business is no different. Dupont was a giant in the shipbuilding industry at one time. You're now in the wrong location to compete for the really big contracts because you have no place to expand, and you aren't competitive enough to go after the small contracts that could save you. That isn't your fault, it's just business."

The fire Kendal was used to seeing in the pretty green eyes was starting to burn. This time she gave into the smile and let it spread across her face much to Piper's aggravation. "What's so funny?"

"You don't like it when someone tells you the truth, do you?"

One hand came off the glass and Kendal put the cigar down just in case. "The truth as you see it, doesn't make it the truth."

"Ok, let's try this. Miss Dupont, do you want my help?"

"I can't afford your help. You want what's mine and I'm not willing to pay that price."

Kendal exhaled in a long sigh. This girl was the most annoying person she had ever come in contact with and when she considered she had thousand upon thousands of days under her belt, that was quite an accomplishment. "Why not ask what the price tag is before you turn me down? Haven't you ever heard that life is full of surprises? I might have the ability to surprise you if you give me the chance." Kendal downed the rest of her drink and stood. She picked up her cigar from the ashtray and leaned over the table. "Think about what I said."

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Piper surprised herself with the invitation. This woman who looked like a mythic figure had talent when it came to pushing all her buttons. Why in the world would she want to spend the evening eating dinner with her?

"I'd love nothing better, but I have work to do, so maybe some other time."

"You're going to work now?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm not just telling you that to brush you off."

Piper laughed thinking of how polite Kendal always was when it came to addressing her no matter how immature she had been in return. "Dressed like that?"

Blue eyes scanned down the long body and arched a brow at the blonde in question. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"

"Nothing, it's just not your usual business suit. Makes me wonder what type of business you have to attend to."

The deep rumbly laugh sent shivers down Piper's spine. "I could give you a lifetime of guesses and you would never come up with the answer. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Dupont, and don't forget about my offer."

Piper let out a laugh of her own. "What makes me think accepting any offer from you would land me in the same position Kenny got me in, namely in his bed."

Kendal leaned further in and for once Piper didn't back away. "I meant what I said about my bed the first time we met. If you end up there it'll be because you want to not out of force or obligation. Now I'm thinking it will only be so if you beg me."

"Trust me, you're not my type."

The tall woman moved in again until there was only inches separating them. "Run along the straight and narrow do you? And I'm putting emphasis on the straight part of that statement."

"I'm not gay."

"I'm not either."

The blonde brows knitted together in confusion. "But I thought," Piper started with uncertainty.

"I'm a woman who enjoys the company of other women, what I don't enjoy is labels. The world is made up of different people and beliefs. What is normal to one person might be an abomination to another but as long as they find a person who accepts them for what they are, no labels or definitions are needed to justify it." Kendal stood straight and looked out the window again. The rain was now falling in a steady stream. "I am who I am, Miss Dupont, and I've never had to find an excuse for it nor have I had trouble finding someone who wants to share time with me. You're in no danger of being taken advantage of."

What a shame that would be. The thought ran through Piper's mind as she watched Kendal leave again. No matter how hard she tried to be civil to the woman it never worked out and she ended up saying things she would rather take back. Could Kendal give her the chance to make things right? She might not ever know now unless she made the first move. Piper had a feeling that as far as Kendal was concerned any further contact between them wasn't something she was going to seek out.

*  *  *

Jacques entered the house and looked around to see who was missing. All the young ones he had sent out the night before were gone. The most evident of them was Veronica. Not that he had thought they would have any chance against Kendal's skill, but he thought she would be somewhat intimidated by the numbers of his followers. Failure though was not an option. The time had come to fight the Order on one major point. It was time for the world to know of their existence and claim their rightful place of power. He had always known he was made to rule, and the time had come to rise to his fate.

"Send out the more talented fighters tonight," he said to Troy. "You don't have to defeat her, you just need to capture her or that little pet of hers. Asra is as predictable as the rising sun. Touch or threaten those close to her and she is willing to lay her sword down."

"Yes, master. I'll send them out in force."

"Not all, just enough to get the job done. I don't want to be left vulnerable if she is luckier than we give her credit for. Remember all we need is just one of them."

As Troy organized their attack, Jacques left the house and headed into the city. As he slept everyday he usually had no memory or dreams to cloud his sleep. There was only one who could call to him no matter the time and he would hear. He was going to meet with the one person who would make things right for him and make their dreams of power come to reality.

He moved so fast that most of the people he passed on the street never saw or felt his presence. At the end of his walk Jacques was now in the second oldest part of New Orleans. Uptown had been where the English and northerners who had settled after the French and Spanish had built their big houses and estates. It was still on the river, but unlike the French Quarter that had held on to its historic treasures, very few of the original homes from that era remained here. They were old but lacked the still existing physical reminders of the past like the area a little to the south.

The house he stopped before was from that time. It looked almost foreboding with its dark colors and high brick walls hiding the yard and grounds. The only part visible from the street was the house front itself. He stood on the cracked sidewalk, the cement no opponent for the roots of the large oak close to the fence, and felt the hair on his arms stand on end from excitement. It had been too long since they had seen each other last.

Their own Elders, who guarded the house, bowed to him as he moved to the door. Two other old ones were sitting at her feet when Jacques entered the glass solarium. With no hesitation he dropped to his knees.

"My queen, welcome to New Orleans. I'm here to do your bidding."

PART 3

THE NEXT TWO nights' hunting went along much as the first one had. Jacques sent his creations up against them, and Charlie and Kendal destroyed them in short order. The end of the week was only a day away but there would be no rest from their work. The only new wrinkle was there would be more people in the French Quarter who could potentially see the epic battles the immortals were fighting on the rooftops. In a week, the city, already famous for its party potential, would put it in high gear for Halloween.

Kendal shook her head thinking about the fact it was on a Friday, on a full moon in a place that didn't believe in boundaries. If Jacques was going to plan an all out attack, what better night than on one he could hide in plain sight? The one thing she was confident in was that they had mowed through the younger of her brother's followers and the nights from here on out would get more difficult.

"Would you like breakfast, sire?" asked one of the men Indigo had left behind to tend to her needs.

"Yes, thank you. Could you put these back for me?" Kendal handed over the weapons she had used the night before to be placed back in the sword room. She was contemplating taking Ruda for a long ride when she heard a car stop at the front gate. With a wave of her hand she motioned for the man who had stepped out of the house to open it and let whomever it was in. She didn't need the intercom to tell her who it might be. What did surprise her was the hour of the visit. It was only a little after six.

"Good morning." Kendal didn't get up from her seat at the table and leaned in so her elbows came to rest on the arms of her chair.

"I came…"

"I know why you're here, let's not waste time on the explanations. I'm more interested as to why you decided to come at all?"

Piper stood next to her car seriously thinking she had made a mistake. Here was when Kendal laughed in her face and told her she was only kidding when she had offered help. In a different scenario it might've been what she had done if the tables were reversed if Kendal had treated her as badly as Piper had treated Kendal.

"Can I talk to you?"

The tall body unfolded itself out of the chair and walked to where the blonde was standing. "Please forgive my rudeness, Miss Dupont, welcome to Oakgrove. Would you like to join me for breakfast?"

Piper looked up at the house before she took Kendal's arm and followed her to the table. She smiled at her gallant hostess when she pulled out her chair and poured her a cup of coffee. "If this is how you treat the enemy, I'd hate to see what happens to your friends when they come over. How do you ever get rid of them?"

"You aren't my enemy, Miss Dupont. You're more like a pesky annoyance buzzing around my ear," Kendal teased her.

"Today's Friday." Piper wanted to engage in light banter with Kendal and work her up to what she wanted but she didn't have time. After a sleepless night this was the only option she had left to her.

"And tomorrow's Saturday. I know what day it is, and to save you more time I should tell you that you didn't really need to make the trip here today."

"I need your help, Kendal. At ten this morning Kenny will take everything my family has built." For the first time Kendal saw the frightened little girl Piper tried to hide from the world in the glassy eyes looking up at her. So much like those from long ago when Kendal could do nothing to change what had to be done.

She moved to kneel next to Piper and put her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Go and pick up your grandfather, Miss Dupont, and go to your meeting. Have faith in what you and he have put together and in that you will protect what's yours. You don't need my help for that."

"You won't help us?"

"You don't know me, but I want you to listen to me. Everything will be fine and you have the means to send Kenny Delaney and all others like him packing. When you do, I hope you realize you'll have to make changes so that you won't be put in this position again. You remind me so much of someone I used to know, and like her, you have that same spirit for life and to make the right choices no matter the consequences. Hold on to that and there'll be nothing you can't do."

Piper moved away not wanting the comfort Kendal was offering. It was the same thing over and over again in her life. She trusted someone to stand with her and all they did was disappoint her or leave. "I'm sorry I bothered."

She had gotten her tears under control by the time she reached Kenny's offices. When she entered the rest of the players were already seated. They stood until Piper had taken her place next to her grandfather. From the head of the conference table Kenny looked like he was going to enjoy stripping them of everything.

This deal and the prime real estate that came with it would get him out of his own financial mess on some of his construction projects that had sucked his company dry of their cash reserves. With a few maneuvers on his part once the papers were signed, he would get rid of his investment partners and take over the project of clearing and selling the land himself.

The Vice President of loans for the bank Dupont Enterprises used sat across from them with a stack of papers before him. Samuel Sheldon had been dreading this day because he and Mac had a relationship that spanned most of their lifetimes. How they had gotten to this point amazed him, but then again it was the Duponts and nothing they did surprised him much.

"We're here to discuss the calling of loans and the assets that come with their payment," Samuel explained.

"Get on with it, Sam, we all know why we're here," said Kenny in annoyance.

"Mac, are you sure you want to go through with this? You have enough on your plate trying to stay competitive without taking on a new business as well," Samuel spoke directly to his old friend.

"What? Are you delusional? My partners and I are here to call in his loans and pay them in full. I know you all go way back but Duponts' are months in arrears when it comes to their debt and we can make good on those this morning," screamed Kenny.

"As of the close of business yesterday all of Dupont Enterprise's loans were made good and paid in full. The loans I'm referring to today have to do with your company, Mr. Delaney. You're delinquent in two of the three construction sites you have ongoing now. Mr. Dupont is in a position to call those in and take over."

Kenny looked at the banker like the man was speaking a foreign language. He did not understand if he was joking or not. There was no way the old man or Piper could have pulled together that much money in so little time without word getting out on the street. "Stop fucking around and let's get on with it. We want to give you some money here."

"Mac, I suggest you just take the one site adjacent to your property. That way you can expand your site to make you competitive again and then go after larger contracts. We have some plans put together to finance the moving of your dry docks to Mr. Delaney's property giving you more room to expand your production capabilities. But we'll get to that over lunch, I just need your decision now so I can cut my counterpart here a check." Samuel smiled before looking at Kenny's banker. The only thing confusing him was the fact Mac and Piper looked as lost as Kenny and his people.

"That sounds reasonable. Piper and I aren't interested in taking over Mr. Delaney's business, are we darlin'?" he asked Piper.

"No, sir, the property next door will be fine."

Samuel handed over a check and motioned for his clients to get going. They were done and there was no reason to stay and subject themselves to any more of Kenny's vile mouth.

"Mac, Piper, I don't know how you managed it but I really enjoyed putting that little moron in his place," said Samuel in the elevator.

"You know how it is, Samuel, got to keep your cards close to your vest."

"Well next time don't wait so long to show them. I'm younger than you are and I don't think my heart could take much more." They walked across the lobby to the front door of the building with a bounce in their step. "Are you two free for lunch?"

"I'll be happy to join you but I can't speak for Piper," said Mac.

"Thank you, Samuel, but I'll have to pass this time. After I eat my share of humble pie I don't think I'll have room for anything else today." Mac smiled at her explanation, surprised to know she had some clue as to what happened. "Could I have a word with granddad before you take off?"

"Tell me you didn't sell your soul to make that happen just now?" asked Mac when they walked away so Samuel couldn't hear them.

"I asked someone for help, and they came through. Now I just have to figure out what it's going to cost us."

"Who?"

"Kendal Mackey."

Mac leaned against the glass of the building they had stopped in front of. "The same Mackey who you called a thief a week ago?"

"More like the one you told me to listen to before I went jumping to conclusions, yes. I'll tell you all about it tonight, but right now I've got to go," said Piper walking her grandfather back to his old friend.

"All set?" asked Samuel.

"You bet. You know something, I'm damned glad I'm retiring soon. You're right, I'm getting old and I don't think I can take much more of this, but that Piper she's something else. Her daddy would've been so proud of her." Mac hit the man on the shoulder before they got into the waiting car. "She's my future and it's looking bright."

*  *  *

Close to the road stood a grove of camellia plants that Kendal had planted herself when she had decided on the purchase of the property that became Oakgrove. Over the years some of the plants had been lost to cold snaps or disease but the ones that had survived were all hybrids of the originals. It was where she got the bouquets she brought Angelina when she went to call and they had quickly become the young woman's favorites.

They had left Tomas to Jacques' library to go riding. Angelina was excited about seeing all of her beloved's land and spending time alone with him was a bonus. Dee for all her loyalty hated horses and everything to do with them, and her uncle trusted Jacques not to ravage his niece if given the opportunity to spend the day with her. With a packed lunch they set off to get to know each other and for Angelina to see what the life of a planter involved.

"What do you want my role with you to be?" She sat close to him on the blanket Jacques had spread out so they could enjoy their meal on the other side of the lake she had seen the day before.

Jacques stretched out and put his head in her lap. "What would you like it to be?"

"First I'd like to be your wife and the mother of your children, then whatever will make you happy."

He looked up at her and felt like someone had ripped out his heart for giving him something so precious he couldn't keep. Angelina needed to find someone new and wonderful to give her all the things she deserved. Someone who would love her and grow old with her, which was something Jacques could not do.

"What would make you happy, love?"

"To see the same look in your eyes always when you turn those blue eyes my way," she answered pressing her lips to his. Jacques had a way of making her feel bold.

"No matter how much time passes it will always be so, but we have to talk before you make too many plans about our future together. There are things about me you need to know."

"You don't want me?"

He stopped her before she could move too far away from him. "Of course I want you but you should know the truth about the man you're in love with. If we are to be together it should be without secrets don't you agree, cheri?"

"There is nothing you could tell me, Jacques, that will make me change my mind about you." Behind her Jacques could see the dark clouds forming and they were at least a couple of hours from the house.

"I pray that's true, but let's get going before you ruin that beautiful riding outfit in a downpour."

That evening they sat in the parlor and laughed at Tomas' stories of all the bribes he had been offered over the years by those not wanting to read about themselves in the paper. A storm raged outside with no signs of letting up despite the fact it had been raining for hours. It was the noise of nature's fury and the distraction of his company that kept Jacques from hearing the light knock at the front door.

"Yes, sir, may I help you?" asked the slave who opened the door.

"Is this the home of Jacques St. Louis?"

"Yes, sir, can I get him for you?"

"I'm his brother, Henri," said the man as he tilted his head to the side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize Master St. Louis had a brother." The servant stood as if not sure of what came next. "Would you like to come in from the rain while I fetch the master?"

"You have to invite me in, my good man. It would be rude of me otherwise." Henri smiled and waited knowing he couldn't step foot into anyplace he was not welcomed first. Especially any house under the Order's protection.

"I'm sorry of course. Please come in, I'm sure the master of the house will be happy to see you." He finished before Jacques', "Wait," could stop him. Any spell of protection was broken since the houseboy lived under Jacques roof and not in one of the cabins to the back.

"Come now, Jacques, we are family after all, are you not pleased to see me?" Henri stepped in and took off his cloak and hat, shaking his hair of any water.

"Why are you here?"

"I've come to make peace with you after all this time. The years have made me strong enough so that I don't need to feed as often to survive. I think that we can now live in peace together."

Angelina walked up and put her arm through Jacques' looking at the new arrival. Their features where similar but the eyes set them apart. "Do I need to send for anything, love?" she asked Jacques as she looked at the man across from them just inside the door.

"Just a towel if you have it, kind lady. Allow me to introduce myself, Henri St. Louis, I'm Jacques' brother." He walked forward and kissed her hand.

She shivered at the coldness of his touch but wrote it off as the affects of riding through the storm. "Angelina du'Pon, my Uncle Tomas and I are friends of Jacques'."

"Don't be modest, my dear, I see how my brother looks at you. I'm willing to bet you are both more than friends."

"Would you like a room to retire to, Henri, after your long voyage?"

"And miss the chance to spend time with you and your lady? I think not." Henri's answer made Angelina smile. "Lead the way, Mademoiselle du'Pon, I would love to meet your uncle."

"Go on, Angelina, we'll be right in." She looked from one man to the other and knew there was something wrong. Jacques didn't look very happy to see his brother, and the smile on Henri's face was more macabre than pleasant.

"She's simply delicious, Asra." Henri waited until they were alone knowing she wouldn't attack him in front of all these people no matter how much she wanted to.

"I want to know why you're here," demanded Jacques.

"I wanted a new start just like you, brother," he laughed at the word. "Does the little precious know your grand secret, or are you waiting to surprise her when it's too late for her to escape?"

"Get out of my house, or I'll…"

"You'll do nothing, and have you forgotten, I was invited in," he moved closer until he could feel the heat pouring off her body like a furnace. "One night, Asra, then I'll disappear into the darkness. You have my word as a gentleman."

"Your word is worthless, Henri. It always has been, but watch your step here or I'll destroy you."

Angelina and Tomas watched as Henri simply pushed the food around on his plate but none of it touched his lips. The same went for the sweet wine and fig preserves the cooks served after dinner in the parlor. They had never been around someone who studied their every move with such scrutiny.

"Will you be staying long?" asked Angelina of Henri. She was ready for the night to be over since there was something about the man that frightened her, and the tension between Jacques and Henri could be almost felt like a living thing.

"Long enough, but if there's to be a wedding I might be persuaded to say longer for the festivities."

She laughed nervously and put her hand over Jacques' in an effort to calm her fears. "Like I said, Monsieur, Jacques and I are only friends."

"Shame on you, Jacques. You'd better hurry and ask for her hand before someone else steals her from under your nose." Henri had studied the young woman from afar in the city whenever she ventured out with her uncle at night, but up close her beauty was breathtaking. He had been biding his time and now he was almost giddy to get on with his plan.

"Thank you for your encouragement, but I rather like Jacques' pace as much as his company," Angelina answered for him. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll retire for the evening." They all stood when she rose to her feet. "Jacques, will you accompany me to my door?"

"Of course, my dear. Henri, I trust you will be here when I return."

"Like I said, brother, we have much to talk about after all these years."

They ascended the stairs in silence and walked in equal quiet to the door of the bedroom Angelina was using. Henri's arrival had thrown Jacques for a loop and he was in danger of losing all he had worked for here. Now his only concern was to protect all those he loved.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Angelina, I want you to lock yourself and Dee in once you close the door and don't leave the room until the sun rises tomorrow."

She put her hands on his chest, more frightened now than before. "Why? What's wrong? Is that man really your brother?"

Jacques kissed her to stop the litany of questions. This time it had nothing to do with gentleness or patience. He wanted her to know how much he felt for her before, like Henri had said, it was too late. "I love you so much," he said before kissing her again.

"I love you as well."

"This isn't how I planned to do this," Jacques started as he fell to one knee. "I have to speak to your uncle, but I wanted to ask you first," he continued as he took hold of her hand. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes." His hands felt wonderful when he moved them to her hips before sliding them up her body. Jacques rose to his feet with them wanting to show her how much he wanted her before the chance was stolen from him.

"Go now, darling, and remember, open the door to no one until morning."

"Jacques, please tell me what's going on, I'm scared."

He pulled her close and kissed her one last time. The world and its worries melted away as she gave in to her urge, pulled the tie from his hair, and sunk her fingers into the dark tresses. "Get some sleep, and don't worry, I'm here to watch over you. I promise in the morning I'll tell you everything I've put off until now."

The door of the bedroom opened and Dee looked at the man standing next to her mistress with his hair loose around his shoulders. Jacques was almost too beautiful to be real. "Master, is everything all right? I just heard something that sounded like screams coming from the back."

"Lock the door and watch over your mistress. Remember, love, open it to no one." Jacques didn't tell them anything else as he ran down the hall for the stairs.

In the parlor Tomas stood by the window alone looking out at the rain. Henri was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

"He said he was going out to check on his horse. Strange man your brother. You two don't seem related at all." The older man leaned on his cane trying to ease the ache in his hip.

"Tomas, I don't have time to explain but I need you to go up to your room and lock the door. My brother isn't the gentleman he pretends to be and I have to find him before he harms anyone." Jacques pulled one of the crossed swords from over the mantle. The action of doing so made him want to cry because in the morning they were coming down anyway to make room for Angelina's surprise.

Not bothering with a horse, he ran toward the slave quarters to see if Dee's worries were warranted. The noble Asra wasn't prepared to find Lionel walking through the mud as if in a trance holding the lifeless body of Celia. His white work shirt was covered with what was left of her blood.

"I don't know what it was, but it killed her," said Lionel through his tears. "It killed all of them, and I couldn't stop it."

Jacques entered the cabin to find all of Lionel's children with their throats ripped open and dead as if a wild animal had come in and feasted on them. At a dead run he headed back to the house already aware of his mistake. The first body he found was that of the boy who invited Henri in, he wasn't too far from Tomas.

"You old fool," said Jacques from her knees. She closed the tired looking green eyes staring off into nothing before putting her hand on his forehead. Tomas' walking stick was backward in his hand as if he tried to use it as a club to fight off his attacker.

The boots she was wearing felt like lead as she moved up the stairs. Angelina's door was almost ripped from it's hinges, the lock no opponent for Henri's vengeance. Dee had the same mask of death as Tomas. Her soft brown eyes were open; in her hand the only weapon she had was the small gold cross her mistress always wore around her neck. The only thing missing from the room was Angelina.

She looked for the body until the sun came up with no luck. Henri had taken Angelina as a way to hurt her. She swore she would get even when night came again. Now she had people to calm and bodies to bury after the night of death. Working together they quickly assembled the pyres needed for Celia, her sons, Tomas, Dee and the others who fell to the demon the houseboy had so kindly invited in to their midst.

"Have them all pack and get them ready to travel soon," Jacques told Lola. The old cook had a rag twisted in her hands terrified at what had happened.

"Where we going?"

"I'm giving you your freedom to go wherever you like, but I would suggest you go to my estates in the northern part of England. You'll be welcomed by my staff and you'll be safe there for as long you care to stay."

"I thought you were from France?"

Asra put down the glass of whiskey she was drinking and turned her attention to the woman who had befriended her from the minute she came off the auction block and begged for the life of her son. "I am Egyptian but does that really matter now? This is all I can think to do, because after last night, I cannot stay here and I will not leave you all to suffer for my mistakes."

"I'll get them ready, Jacques," Lola stood to go and spread the word. "And, Jacques, we don't blame you for what happened, especially Lionel. You're too good to be related to that monster."

"Thank you, but hurry and go. The sunset isn't too far off. Lock your doors and invite no one in."

She waited in the study with her sword resting on her lap. The question of why Abez had come back now was about to give her a headache if she thought about it much longer. At midnight marking all hallows eve the front door creaked open and they entered together.

Henri followed the movement of the knife in her hand as Jacques twirled it through her fingers. For the moment he wasn't too concerned with her throwing it since he had Angelina pressed up against his chest. "Miss me, or should I say us?" He ran his hand through Angelina's hair, which was hanging freely down her back. The style made her look wild and sensual.

"For centuries I haven't struck the death blow when it came to you, Abez, because no matter what despicable acts you've committed, I believed a small part of my brother remained in your heart. I was wrong. No matter what price I have to pay, you will die tonight." She embedded the knife in the arm of the chair, put her glass down and stood. The only noise in the room that followed her standing was the sword leaving the sheath that housed it. "I'll take my revenge for our father and all the other lives you have ruined."

"Will you kill her too?" Henri pulled back on Angelina's head and to Jacques' disgust she kissed him. "Where has the love you have for her gone?"

"Angelina, love, come here," Jacques said softly. The blonde looked almost like she was drugged. Something had changed and as Jacques watched her walk across the room her heart broke because she knew what it was.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Angelina asked, her hand running up Jacques' chest. "Did you think my knowing would frighten me away?" The hand moved lower to confirm what was missing from Jacques' anatomy.

"I was going to tell you, you have to believe me," the blonde's touch was overwhelming her senses and Jacques almost forgot Henri was still in the room.

Angelina pulled Jacques' head down wanting to share a kiss. Their lips were about to touch when the truth of her suspicions registered in the immortal's mind and it felt like someone dropped a bucket of ice on her soul. The strength the young woman had now was unnatural; Jacques could feel it in the hand at her neck. Her lips were limp against Angelina's and before she could move away, the blonde sank her teeth into her lip.

Henri's laugh rang through the house when Jacques pulled back, her mouth cut and bleeding. "She belongs to me now, sister. I took what you so cherished last night and I was right, she was delicious. What a wonderful wife she would've been, what an incredible bedmate she will be — to me."

"No." It came out as a whisper and Jacques wanted nothing more than to run out of the room to find darkness and sleep. In darkness she would find emptiness and a way to forget. In darkness she would find release.

"Jacques, please." The voice sounded like her sweet Angelina, but this hideous creature only inhabited the shell of her body. Her Angelina was dead. Jacques opened her eyes to watch Henri run his tongue along her ear. "If you love me then release my from this hell. I killed Uncle Tomas last night. May God forgive me but I couldn't stop myself." A tear of blood fell from the green eyes Jacques loved.

"I can't," said Jacques in anguish. "Please don't ask me to."

"Please, love, I'm begging you. If you care for me still, just a little, then you will do as I ask." Angelina heard Jacques' scream and closed her eyes. In what was left of her humanity she knew she couldn't fight the thirst and she couldn't resist Henri.

The sword flew from her hand like a javelin and pierced Angelina's heart. Jacques threw it so hard it embedded into Henri's chest as well just below his heart. When Angelina exploded into dust he staggered back clutching at the weapon weakening him by the second. When he looked up gasping for air Jacques was standing over him intent on finishing the job.

"If you kill me you'll never find the other blonde bitch you sniff after all the time," he said as the sword slipped out and Jacques now held the point to the skin over his heart.

"I buried her deep, your little teacher." He kept at it as the point of the sword drew its first blood on the way to its target. "Swear you'll let me go and I'll tell you where she is," Henri knew Jacques' sense of honor and her word would be his salvation. What he was saying was his ticket to escape.

"How can you believe I'd trust anything you say or believe, even for an instant, that you're telling the truth?"

"I'll take you myself. If I'm lying you can kill me then, but if I'm not, you have to let me go after you get her out."

They arrived on horseback, Henri draped over the back of her saddle, at the church being built with Jacques' generosity after Angelina had convinced her to make a donation. It was where she wanted to marry the man she'd fallen in love with. "Under the cornerstone," he told her as he held his hand over the wound on his chest. It would take extensive feeding and months to heal he knew because of the essence of wood the blade was made with. For once though he had planned for every possibility to beat Asra down and keep her away from him.

Jacques braced her legs and pushed against the carved stone. She didn't believe Indigo would be underneath but she wasn't willing to gamble. There had been no word her Elder was coming. The stone moved and there in an indentation in the dark soil, bound and gagged was Indigo.

"I kept my word, now it's time for you to keep yours," said Henri as he slowly staggered away.

"Kill him," rasped Indigo from Jacques' arms.

"I gave my word, not now. My word though does not bind me in the future. To the future I give my word that Abez will not live forever no matter the cost."

The morning came and with it a sense of despair. Jacques gathered Angelina's ashes and arranged to have them buried in the church run cemetery outside the city after they were blessed by the young woman's priest. Indigo waited in the du'Pon's home until all of Jacques' slaves set sail to freedom in Europe. She had promised the warrior to get them settled in their new life and new home before retuning to America. All of them boarded ships except one.

Lionel stayed behind with Jacques wanting some explanation as to what happened and why his family had been slaughtered. Jacques' answers made no sense to him and for the first time in his life he though he was going mad.

"No man or woman lives forever, and no one lives on blood alone," said Lionel.

The plantation was quiet and peaceful without the sounds of workers and children playing. They were standing in the field where they had burned the pyres of their dead. "I can only tell you the truth as I know it, I can't make you believe me. I have lived for almost two thousand years as a warrior of the Order that balances good and evil in the world. You can say I'm their angel of death to those who are the undead."

"You are mad."

Jacques sighed and pulled a dagger from her belt and handed it to him. "If my words can't convince you, perhaps my blade can." She ripped her shirt open and he was confused at the bindings wrapped around her chest. "I am Asra, born in Egypt under the rule of the Pharaoh Ramses. The sun is my strength and the Order is my guide." She faced the afternoon sun and held her hands out. "Go on, try and kill me."

"So I can find myself at the end of a rope, I don't think so, Jacques."

Jacques took the dagger back and drove it in herself. Lionel lunged forward to try and stop her. "Pull it out," she asked as they both lay on the ground. He watched in amazement as the wound closed and healed with the help of the sun. "Do you believe me now? ‘Cause these little demonstrations are rather taxing," Jacques said rather drolly.

"I want to be like you, if only to avenge my family."

She sat up wiping her hands of her own blood on the grass. "I can't, Lionel. I made a promise to the Order, and to me that's very precious. A person is no one without their word."

"Do you know how?"

"Yes, I remember how to make the elixir, but you don't know what you're asking me."

"I'm asking you for the time to find that bastard who calls himself your brother and drive him into hell, even if it means going with him myself."

She had given in to his pleas in the end pulling down the wrath of the Order on her head for breaking her oath. Kendal was convinced if she hadn't saved Indigo's life in the events of that time, they would have buried her somewhere and she'd still be a sleeping dry husk.

Kendal looked up just before Piper reached for her to wipe away the tears that had fallen down her face, surprised that the small blonde would want to touch her in any way. Kendal saw for the first time the same compassion Angelina's eyes had held for her in Piper's.

"Why do you always look so sad when you sit alone and think?" asked Piper with her hand still on Kendal's face.

"I cry for the things I cannot change."

Piper wiped away the last of Kendal's tears and smiled. "Then you must cry a lot."

"More than my share, but I'm sure you have other more important things to worry about." Kendal took a deep breath and tried to put aside the worst memory of her entire existence. Having to be the one who had ended Angelina's life had been the worst feeling she had ever experienced. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company twice in one day?"

The blonde took a seat next to her and folded her hands over her knees. "I don't think I have to tell you why I'm here, you already knew this morning and didn't bother to tell me. I'll have you know I had a miserable drive into the city thanks to you."

I hope this is a big build up to a thank you for all the money I just dished out on you, pipsqueak. A dark brow arched and Kendal's mouth stretched into a thin line. "And once you arrived, things took a turn for the better I'm thinking. At least if the size of that smile is any indication," said Kendal pointing to Piper's face.

"Come on, fess up. You saved my granddad and me so you don't have to get modest now. All I need to know is what you want in return." She patted Kendal's leg once before retreating to the other side of the bench. "My gratitude only goes so far you know, so don't go getting any ideas."

"I didn't save you and you don't owe me anything, so don't sweat it. The homosexual is perfectly capable of getting girls without having to bribe them if that's what you're worried about." Kendal stretched out the word homosexual until Piper blushed.

Crap, I did it again. "Listen, Kendal, I just wanted to come and say thanks."

"And you have, though it's not necessary. You should feel good about fulfilling your self-imposed obligations, even though like I said thanks are not necessary. I didn't do anything for you or Mr. Dupont. If you want to believe otherwise, go ahead, but now all I have to say is, the exit is that way." Kendal pointed her thumb over her shoulder. In reality the gift she had given the old company didn't add up to a tenth of one percent of what she was worth, but she had expected something different from Piper. Wishful thinking and pigtails don't add up to much of a meal, Asra, try and remember that.

"Can I ask why? I haven't exactly been nice to you."

"It wasn't me, Miss Dupont, try and understand that. I can't put it more plainly for you, or would you like it in French?" Kendal stood and started back toward the house. If Piper wouldn't leave her in peace to relive her nightmares she would find some other place to sit.

"If hypothetically you did help us, why'd you do it?"

The tall woman stopped and turned around not wanting to be rude and not answer the question. "Hypothetically, you remind me of someone I used to know. A young woman who was special to me and now she's just a memory. If she were here I'm sure she would have told me it was the right thing to do despite your past behavior. Hypothetically speaking of course." Kendal kept walking never turning around to see if Piper was leaving. "Good day, and good luck," was all she said as she waved her hand.

"I don't care what you say, Kendal, I know it was you." Piper kept her seat for a minute longer looking at the large old trees devoid of flowers because of the time of year. It was then it occurred to her. Why was Kendal Mackey walking around Oakgrove like she owned the place? The plantation belonged to the St. Louis family and its heirs, or so the legends stated. The history books weren't really clear as to what became of the original owner and all the slaves he owned.

*  *  *

"Is there anything in Mackey's past that mentions a girl who left her hanging somewhere along the line?" Piper sat across from Hill as the private investigator looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"Again, do you read absolutely anything I send to your office when you have me investigate someone? Nothing, there's nothing that tells me anything about this woman aside from her accomplishments as the head of the company she founded. She doesn't give interviews about business much less about her personal life."

"Hill, this woman you know nothing about just gave me millions of dollars and she doesn't want to confess to doing so. She also doesn't want to look at me much less tell me what she wants in return, so call me stupid but I have a burning desire to know."

"You're stupid."

"What did you say?" asked Piper looking like she was scanning Hill's desk for something heavy to throw at her.

"I called you stupid," said Hill again, oblivious to any threat. "If she gave you the money, saved your ass and doesn't want anything in return, what exactly is the downside to that?"

"You ever heard of a balloon payment. We're cruising along building boats and whammo, Ms. I Want My Money Back comes waltzing along and we're screwed. You don't have anything to tell me, aside from thinking I'm an idiot."

"I don't think you're an idiot, I think you're stupid." Hill thought about the painting in the rectory and wondered if it had anything to do with Kendal's coming to the Dupont's aid. "There's just one thing I didn't tell you about the day I followed her to the church."

"Now, Hill, I need to know now."

"There was this painting the nun told me about. Before the cathedral that's there was built, the folks back then built another church. The main benefactor who put the deal together and paid for it was Jacques St. Louis."

Piper sat up in her chair. "The original owner of Oakgrove?"

"One and the same."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Brown eyes rolled and Piper sat back down and let Hill get on with her story. "The church must have commissioned a painting to mark the occasion or to chronicle the history of who was involved. That's what I was looking at the other day." Hill shivered thinking of the similarities to the two people she was now trying to avoid so she could stay in one piece. Piper had a way of talking you into entering your own slaughter and Kendal was just the person to wield the sword to get the job done. "It's a picture of Mr. St. Louis with the holy men who I guess were going to staff the place, other dignitaries involved and a woman."

"Who was the woman?" Piper asked, again cruising the desk in case she needed to prod Hill into talking faster.

"I had to dig a little but I finally found her picture in the archives of the current local paper. Back then the paper was the New Orleans Gazette, owned and operated by Tomas du'Pon. He was never married and had three brothers. One of them died along with his wife in an epidemic and Tomas was left to raise their daughter, Angelina." Hill didn't know how best to proceed so she paused gauging Piper's face. "The girl in the picture standing next to him was Angelina du'Pon."

"What's so spectacular about that story that you just wasted ten minuets of my time telling it to me?"

"Ok, that's it." Hill got up and grabbed the spoiled blonde by the arm. She dragged her outside to her car and shoved her in the passenger seat despite Piper's objections. They drove in silence to the church where Hill grabbed her passenger again and dragged her to the door of the rectory offices.

"Can I help you?" It was a young man in long priest's robes who had come to the door with his hands folded in front of him.

"We're sorry to bother you, Father, but I was here the other day and one of the sisters showed me a painting you have hanging in the foyer. I was wondering if you would allow me to show it to my friend."

"Of course, come in." He waved them in and closed the heavy oak door behind them. There hanging in the foyer was a painting of the Last Supper. "It's spectacular isn't it? We just recently acquired it through a private donation."

"It's lovely, Father, but we were interested in seeing the painting that was here before," said Hill.

"I'm sorry but that's not possible."

"What, you want a donation or something?" asked Piper. She was about to flick Hill in the back of the head for dragging her down there but now the priest was acting a little suspicious. Piper had a talent for spotting when someone was hiding something.

"No, ma'am, it's just that the painting your friend is referring to has been sent back to the original owner, or should I say the family who owns it. It only hung here on loan. It's a shame that they didn't donate it or allow us to replicate it, but that was their wish." He smiled hoping they weren't going to cause a scene. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Father, do you know much of the history of some of the church's more prominent parishioners?" asked Hill.

"Some, why do you ask?" He folded his hands in front of him again like he was in prayer.

"Can you tell us anything about the du'Pon family, or more specifically Angelina du'Pon?"

"All of the children's programs the church funds in this area are made possible by the Angelina du'Pon trust set up all those years ago. She is buried in St. Louis cemetery number one, though no reason for death was ever listed with the church." He closed his eyes as if trying to remember anything else of importance. "There is another perpetual fund set up to care for her tomb and place fresh flowers there every day."

"For hundreds of years?" asked Piper in disbelief.

"Yes, I'm a man of the cloth, but I've always thought it was rather romantic to remember a loved one for so long."

Hill squeezed Piper's hand trying to get her to stay quiet so the guy would keep talking. "Who set up the trusts?"

"Her fiancée, the Marquis Jacques St. Louis. He left the city shortly after her death and was never heard of again. Some say he died of a broken heart, but he was most generous with us even in his absence." The young man started them toward the door anxious to go back to his studies, but it was nice to see others as interested in the church's past as he was.

"One more thing father, who is the current St. Louis heir in charge of the trust?"

"I'm sorry, I can't give out that information." He put his hand up to stop their protests. "I would if I could, but they asked to remain anonymous. In these times the church must respect whoever is willing to still believe in our cause. The money Angelina's memory pays for, goes strictly to the welfare of children. It is my understanding they were her greatest joy."

"So she and Jacques had children?" asked Piper.

"No, ma'am, they never married. Miss du'Pon died before they were able to exchange vows. I assume Jacques St. Louis went on to have children since there has always been someone to carry on the family business since his death. Whoever that young woman was, she must have been very understanding to compete with the memory of Angelina's ghost all her life. The Marquis stayed very devoted to her even in death. It makes one feel good to believe in the afterlife. I do anyway. Maybe in their next life they had better fortune when it came to sharing a life together."

"Thank you, Father, you've been a big help," said Hill. She motioned to Piper to follow her into the garden where Kendal had met with the monsignor days before. "What I'm about to tell you sounds crazy, but that painting that's missing, there was something strange about it. I looked at it for ten minutes and I still couldn't believe what I was looking at."

"Tell me already."

"He was the spitting image of Kendal Mackey and the woman standing next to him looked just like you."

There were two things that went through Piper's mind stopping her from telling Hill she was crazy. First there was the reaction Kendal had the day they met. Her paleness had been like she had seen a ghost. The other was just that afternoon when the woman had said she reminded her of someone she knew. It was impossible though. They weren't talking ten years ago, it was almost three hundred years since Angelina and her boyfriend, Jacques walked the city. "It can't be."

"It can't be, but I'm telling you, Piper, it was two dead ringers for the two of you. Emphasis on the dead part." Hill looked at the sweat gathering on Piper's forehead and thought she was getting sick. "Are you ok? You want me to drive you home?"

"Hill, do you think Kendal is the current St. Louis heir?"

"I'm thinking so, but what I can't figure is why she wanted the painting back? Do you think one of the penguins told her someone was here looking at it?"

"I know I didn't read your report so give me a break before I ask, but did it mention anything about family?"

Hill laughed at Piper's honesty. "Nothing, why?"

"She told me the other night that she wasn't interested in Dupont anymore, but she was still in town on family business. I'm wondering who the family is and what the business is?"

"Why do you care?" asked Hill getting up and offering a hand to Piper. "You have control of the company back and Kendal doesn't want anything else to do with you."

"I don't." Only in her heart she knew that wasn't true. The shark she had read about wasn't the image she got when she remembered the woman sitting and crying on the bench that afternoon. Something haunted Kendal and Piper wanted to know what it was.

*  *  *

"Do you think we're getting closer to the end?" asked Charlie. They were sitting on the rooftop of the famous bar Pat O'Brien's waiting for the next group of vampires to come along. The last fight had taken all of Kendal's skills and Charlie's help to get through. The opponents were getting better.

"When we get to the ones carrying the same weapons we're carrying, we're getting closer to the head slimeball. All these others who think their kung fu moves will make a difference are just bait." Kendal looked down at the street and wondered if they could get away with what she had planned next. "Ready?"

Charlie didn't answer as he watched her take a dive off the roof, do a couple of forward flips and land on her feet in the middle of the street. She landed in the middle of a crowded street full of tourists and innocent bystanders. "Sure, I'm ready. Don't mind my delayed reaction here."

"Warrior," said Troy as he pulled his blade from the sheath strapped to his back. He couldn't kill her but he could wound her enough to take her. The five he had with him followed his lead laughing when the crowd dispersed, but not very far. Even in New Orleans, this was something you didn't see everyday.

"Please, call me Buffy," joked Kendal, twirling her sword slowly in one hand. In the other was a sais she had pulled from her boot.

"Buffy, who is this Buffy?" asked one of the fighters with Troy.

From the crowd watching someone yelled, "The Vampire Slayer, stupid."

Kendal moved forward a little giving Charlie room to land to the applause of the crowd that now thought it was a street performance. "What, Henri doesn't give you time to watch television? I'd contact my union rep about that, ugly. There has to be time for watching television in between all the killing and mayhem."

"Kill her," screamed Troy.

Three of his men rushed forward and sparks flew from their weapons when they clashed with Kendal's. "Watch my back, Charlie. I see these creeps have been practicing."

Everyone watched in awe as the katana met the other three swords stroke for stroke, Kendal driving them back until they were down one of the side streets. With one kick to the side of the shortest one's head, she sent his blade clattering down the street. One of the watchers picked it up and told his buddy, "Dude, these things are real."

"You think that's something, watch this," said Kendal with a wink. She ran up the brick wall of one the buildings close by and flipped over two of the vampires' heads landing in the middle of them. "Now you see them, and now you don't." The blade of the katana sliced through the armed one and the sais through the unarmed one. She took the time to take a short bow after they turned to dust.

It was approaching midnight when the other two moved forward, Troy hanging back to watch. Kendal replaced the sais and pulled one of the small axes attached to her belt. The taller of the two stood and twirled his sword in precision moves trying to impress her. One throw and another of the vampires met a dusty end, the weapon dropping to the street. "At least try going to the movies every so often, jeez. Would have seen that coming if you'd bothered to rent an Indiana Jones flick."

The last vampire still willing to fight dropped his sword and starting running only to meet the same end at the end of the axe when Kendal threw it with deadly aim. She looked to make sure the weapon had hit its mark.

"Kendal, turn around," screamed Charlie. Before she could, Troy's sword sliced clean through her chest. The instant pain dropped her to her knees. His aim had punctured a lung and nicked her heart. He was about to pull it out and stab again when Charlie's sword finished him off.

"Charlie, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, boss, move faster next time?"

"There's that yeah, but I was thinking more about you pulling this goddamn thing out of my chest so I can beat you with it." She laughed up at his concerned face. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, this hurts like a bitch."

A mounted policeman rode up and looked down at the bloodstain growing along her shirt. "Are you all right, lady?"

Borrowing a line from Piper she stood on shaky legs and said, "Peachy." She sheathed the katana and put her hand on her hips like nothing was wrong. "How'd you like the show? We thought we'd try a dry run out here before moving into the theater down the street."

"The disappearing acts could've been better and the blood on your shirt is too dark looking to be real."

"Well it's really old," said Kendal with a smile. She accepted the axe back from Charlie before moving back to the car. There would be no more fighting until the sun came up and she was able to heal. "Everyone's a critic I swear."

*  *  *

She was waiting next to the fence line when the SUV Charlie was driving pulled into the gate. Next to him sat Kendal looking like she was growing weaker so he never noticed the intruder enter after them. His old friend was in no danger of dying but only the sun would bring her back to her full strength.

"You're not over there beating yourself up are you, Charlie?" asked Kendal. She had been silent for the drive because she was going over the last fight they had engaged in. There was something about the way some of the demons had fought. They had nothing to do with Jacques and his training.

"I'm turning out to be more of an anchor to you than anything else. You should start going out alone and leave me behind."

"It was you who took care of the big guy, or was there more audience participation than I realized?"

He put the vehicle in park and turned to smile at her. She was always the same. Always trying her best to make him feel better. "No, that was me, but I didn't get to you before he stabbed you."

"Time will make you better, but you are with me because I want you here. Do you want to wait until I'm done? I don't want to pressure you into something you don't want to do."

The night was starting to fade with the coming of dawn and he looked out towards the east. "If you don't mind I want to be there for you, but mostly for Celia and my sons. They deserve me trying to kill the bastard who did that to them. I'm sorry he's your brother, but I want nothing more than to kill him."

"I know how you feel, Charlie. Have I ever told you who Jacques' first kill was all those years ago when he was made into what he is?"

"Trust me I remember all our talks having to do with him, you've never told me much more than what he is."

Kendal moved her hand from her chest and put it on his shoulder. "It was my father."

"Did you share the same parents?" Charlie looked to the steering column in shock.

"Yes, but that didn't stop him from killing the man who had raised and taken care of him. I wasn't there but I can imagine the betrayal my father must have felt as Abez drained him. That's what made me accept Indigo's offer of eternal life."

He looked up at her in equal dismay. "You thought about not taking it?"

Kendal looked down at her chest to the wound that bled freely. One that would've killed her minutes after Troy had given it to her had it not been for the elixir she drank two thousand years before. "I didn't want to live forever. I wanted to serve my pharaoh then find a woman to share my life with. Back then if you believed strong enough the gods would provide all that I could not, like children."

"But to never worry about death."

She laughed. "Is replaced by the worry of living forever. Your family was different, Lionel. You watched them die and you wanted vengeance and I gave you the vehicle to see it through. I had no one left when I returned from battle and wanted nothing more than to join them in the valley of the dead. In the end I chose my honor and duty above all else that I wanted. It's what my father would have wanted, and what he would've expected of me."

"Let's get you out of here to wait for the sunrise."

Her hand left a smear of blood along the door when she leaned on it to get out of the car. The purple of the night sky was turning pink behind the house and she started walking slowly to one of the lawn chairs to sit and wait. It wouldn't take long to feel the healing begin.

Behind them, the unexpected visitor moved slowly almost throwing up at the sight of all the blood. The idiot she had come to see was going to die before she got to ask any questions and the big guy walking with Kendal didn't look like he would be very forthcoming with information if she did kick off.

"May I help you with something, Miss Dupont?" asked Charlie. Kendal kept walking to the back of the house leaving him to deal with the blonde.

"I want to call an ambulance if you aren't going to do it."

"What would we need an ambulance for?"

"For the woman bleeding profusely behind you," she said pointing toward Kendal. "Who is doing a good job of ignoring me by the way," she continued raising her voice so she would be heard by both of them.

"It's just a scratch, Miss, but I'm sure Kendal would feel better if you left her to rest and recover." He waved to the direction of the gate. "I'll be happy to walk you out myself."

"I'm not leaving until I talk to her."

"Or I could just carry you and deposit you on the road, your choice."

She screamed all the way to the entrance as Charlie carried her over his shoulder like one of the bales of cotton he carried here long before. Every time she was able to land a blow to the back of his body, he drove her anger up a notch by laughing. He opened a small entry next to the main drive and placed her on her feet.

"Have a good day, Miss Dupont."

"You'll be having a great day too when I come back with the police." The clank of the gate sounded deafening when he closed and locked it leaving her alone. Not to be deterred, Piper was back three hours later with a young deputy in tow. It had taken her that long to convince them she wasn't hysterical and that she had really seen someone hurt on the property.

"Good morning, ma'am. Sorry to bother you but could I have a word?" asked the police officer. Kendal was sitting at the table eating a huge stack of waffles with syrup. Next to the plate sat another one with eggs and a rare steak.

"Is there a problem?"

"Miss Dupont here," started the young man.

"Is that the problem? If she is I can't help you there, annoyance isn't illegal, it just makes her a pain in the ass. Sadly there isn't any law to make her act otherwise." Kendal pointed her fork at the woman with her hands on her hips.

He put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile not wanting to antagonize Piper. Her grandfather and the sheriff were old friends and he didn't want any problems. "No, ma'am, Miss Dupont swears she was here this morning and you were knocking on death's door from an injury to your chest. Seems you were bleeding pretty bad." If this woman did have an injury of any kind she was doing a great job at hiding it, and he had a feeling they weren't leaving until they checked.

"I spilled a V8 in the car but I can assure you I wasn't bleeding."

"V8 my ass," said Piper in a frustrated voice. She moved to the porch and stood next to Kendal. "Stand up right now." The chair scrapped along the wood floor and Kendal did as she asked. "Now we'll see who's lying." Piper turned her around so the deputy couldn't see and opened the robe Kendal had on. She wasn't expecting naked.

"If you wanted to come to my house and see me naked, you didn't have to bring the police with you. Asking nicely would've done the trick."

The female body had never done anything for Piper, but then she had never laid eyes on someone like Kendal. She started at her shoulders, which were strong and rounded with muscle. The breasts were smallish but well shaped and fit nicely with the overall picture. Piper was sure when she got to the abdomen that she had never in her life seen someone who had a visible outline of every muscle. Lastly she ran her eyes down Kendal's legs thinking only that she must spend hours running around when she wasn't buying failing companies the muscles in them stood out in such vivid relief.

"Um, in your dreams I wanted to look at you naked. I was just worried about you, but you seem perfectly healthy."

"Miss Dupont, is everything in order?" asked the police officer.

You have no earthly idea she thought as she tried to force her eyes off the open robe and back to the yard where the man was standing. "Yes, I'm sorry there must have been some kind of misunderstanding. She's all right, nothing out of place and no holes that shouldn't be here."

"Are you done?" asked Kendal in amusement.

"Hmm?"

"The visual tour, are you done?"

"Of course," snapped Piper, her fingers still wrapped in the thick cotton of the robe.

"Of course," replied Kendal closing the garment herself. She turned to the deputy still standing in the yard with his hand covering his mouth and gave him a smile. "Would you care for some coffee, officer?"

"No, ma'am, we won't take up any more of your time. Miss Dupont, you ready to go?"

"You can go ahead, deputy, I'll see to it that Miss Dupont gets home. After all she hasn't checked out the back for suspicious puncture marks," teased Kendal getting Piper to blush.

"Yes, ma'am, I'll leave you to that then." The leather of his utility belt creaked as he got into the car. He couldn't hold the laughter until he got to the gate and his obvious mirth caused Piper to turn a darker shade of red.

"Thank you for not subjecting me to his company all the way back to the sheriff's office, but you and I both know what I saw this morning. You were hurt and that guy just threw me out."

Kendal pulled her chair out for her and put her hand on Piper's shoulder to get her to sit in it. "I'm flattered that you were worried about me, but as you just saw I'm fine. If I didn't know better I'd say you were stalking me."

"You must have gotten an A+ in your self esteem class. Why in the world would I be stalking you?" Piper watched as the big hands poured her a cup of coffee and mixed it with the right amounts of sugar and cream. "I don't even like you all that much."

"At the risk of my sanity, why were you here at the crack of dawn?" Kendal motioned for the young man at the front door to bring out the plate he had in his hand. "Since you don't like me all that much, you spend inordinate amounts of time trying to see me."

"You interest me, is that a crime?"

"Interest you how?"

The red streaks of a blush ran up Piper's face again and she tried to hide behind the coffee cup in her hand. "Not like that," she whispered so the server wouldn't hear her.

"Shall I call Charlie to carry her out again, sire?" asked the man in Japanese.

"Let's wait up on that. If worse comes to worse I'll carry her out myself. I'm feeling lots better." Kendal bowed her head to acknowledge his then pointed to Piper's plate. "You should try them while they're hot. They're pecan waffles and an old family recipe."

"Whose family?"

"The St. Louis family I would imagine." Kendal took over the job of buttering the nice smelling breakfast squares and pouring syrup over them so Piper would start eating. They weren't quite as good as Lola's but the new chef had come close. "Shall I cut them up and feed them to you as well?"

"How are you related to the St. Louis family?" asked Piper picked up her fork to keep Kendal at bay.

"I'm more like a family caretaker than a relative."

"Uh huh, can you tell me about Jacques St. Louis and the woman he was going to marry, Angelina?"

The last piece of waffle was swiped around Kendal's plate to pick up the last of the cane syrup she had poured over them. She chewed slowly trying to find a way out of having this conversation with Piper and not make her crazy by putting her off. "What makes you think I would have any of that history in my head, Miss Dupont?"

"Can I ask you something?" Kendal nodded and waved her hand to get her to proceed. "Why do you call me Miss Dupont and yet you call Hill Ms. Jarvis?"

"You don't look like a Ms. to me, and it's impolite according to old southern tradition to address you that way."

"Kendal, if I asked you to, would you call me Piper?" The question came out in a tired voice and the petite woman's shoulders came close to slumping.

"I would be happy to." She pushed Piper's plate of waffles closer, cut one small square and held it up to the blonde's mouth.

One taste encouraged her to finish the plate enjoying the silence that surrounded them. The only breaks were when Kendal addressed or answered questions from her staff in whatever language they felt comfortable speaking. Piper was no expert, but Kendal's accents and skill matched those of whoever spoke first.

"Would you excuse me for a moment? I'll run up and throw some clothes on and drive you home if you like."

"What would you be doing if I weren't here? I could call someone to give me a ride if you had plans."

"I was going for a ride, but I'm sure Ruda will understand. We have all the time in the world." Kendal stood up and cinched the pull on her robe tighter. "You're free to do whatever will make you more comfortable like calling someone else to drive you, but I really don't mind taking you back."

Piper nodded and sat back in the comfortable chair. The kind hostess and excellent service made her more curious as to who Kendal was and what she was like. An idea popped into her head and Piper wanted to make it work so she could stay for a while longer. All the answers to the questions Hill had uncovered lay in this house and its owner.

"All set?"

"Will you take me riding?" asked Piper. They were both in jeans so Kendal couldn't turn her down because of dress.

"You like to ride?"

"No, but I though I could ride with you."

"That would require you to get really close to me. I thought you didn't like me?"

"I want to get on a horse with you, Kendal, not do the nasty. Come on, I have a rare morning off since I thought I'd be driving you to the hospital."

The gate opened for them as Kendal led Ruda to the road. The way Piper was clutching her forearms a slow ride on the levee was all she would subject the girl to. Kendal moved her arm to Piper's waist as the horse clopped up the incline.

"Do you have something against saddles?"

"This is better for the horse, less cumbersome. Just relax and go with him."

"Will you tell me about this place?" Piper squeezed her safety belt to quiet Kendal before she objected. "You didn't really say you didn't know."

"True, that's very perceptive of you, Piper. What do you want to know?"

"How did Oakgrove come to be?"

He stepped off the boat and looked around the busy port. Most of the moored boats flew French colors but there was a sprinkling of other flags as well. Here among the pirates and settlers would be a good place to hide for a while and forget his responsibilities. To work for something that wasn't born out of the privilege he had known.

"Carry your bags, Monsieur?" asked one of the small boys hanging around looking for spare change.

It was a short ride to the hotel, and one gold piece later Jacques was walking with his new friend toward the stables. "Don't you want to sleep, Monsieur? That was a long voyage you just finished."

"Sleep is for those who have time for it." He patted the boy's head and sent him back to the docks with his earned loot.

After a quick negotiation Jacques was riding his new horse down the road out of town. On the way out of town he passed the main auction blocks where most had lost their minds to greed and inhumanity. It would be something he would deal with later, now he was interested in being alone with his thoughts. Places like Paris and New Orleans were filled with the types of people he wanted to escape so the countryside bordering the river was ideal.

He rode until the sun went down and he came to a clearing where the full moon made the leaves on the new oak trees glimmer. It was there he would build a house and make it his home.

Kendal stopped the horse and looked back in the direction of the house. The trees had grown larger and the levee made it possible to see the roofline now, but the feeling was the same. This had been the first time she had built a place to call her own. All the other estates had been someone else's dream first, but not Oakgrove.

"It was here I guess that he stopped that night, and saw the potential others didn't. Back then the trees were smaller and there was no levee and road."

Piper could feel the voice rumble against her back, and was embarrassed to find it was because she had completely relaxed into Kendal. The way she told a story made it seem like she had been at Jacques' side as he made his discoveries. "It sounds like he was a man who was driven by what he wanted." She leaned forward and turned around to look at Kendal. "It seems to still be a dominant trait in his gene pool."

"He was a man who tried to do the right thing in evil times, I would find that a more attractive characteristic."

The look on Kenny's face from the morning before came back to her and Piper nodded. Kendal may not have believed in her and Mac, but she didn't believe in letting the wrong person win Piper had a feeling. "True, and he would be proud to see it too still runs in his bloodline."

"I'm a thief, Miss Dupont, you said so yourself on more than one occasion. There's nothing honorable in that."

"There's another old southern tradition you forget, Kendal." She was starting to like getting that brow to arch in her direction. "A woman has the right to change her mind if she wants to."

"I must be losing my touch if you're starting to like me."

"Oh the shame of it all," laughed Piper. It felt like sunshine to Kendal it sounded so much like Angelina's. When Piper relaxed and let down her defenses she was even more beautiful to the immortal. Because of this, Kendal felt the need to raise her own walls to protect her heart. She could not bear to lose herself again. She had loved Angelina with all her heart and when she died, it was almost her ruin. This young woman was not her long lost love, but the potential to fall into those green pools was just as likely if Kendal allowed herself to hope.

*  *  *

"Did you have a nice ride?" the question clicked through the intercom in her helmet and Kendal looked to the person riding next to her.

"It's not over as far as I can tell."

"Not this ride, and don't try and change the subject." He dropped his foot down as they came to the light at the bottom of the onramp to the interstate. "I saw how cozy that girl looked up there with you."

"Clear that cozy girl from your mind before we get any closer into the city. I won't be responsible for the loss of anymore innocents on my watch. Piper Dupont is someone who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself from here on out, so I wouldn't count on seeing her again."

"Who are you trying to convince, you or me?"

"Drop it, Charles, she's history." She took off in a roar and he had to rev up to catch up. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that if Piper so much as batted her eye lashes in Kendal's direction she'd turn into the same lovesick idiot who stood on a muddy street almost three hundred years before. There was something about blondes with perky breasts that made Kendal's hormones go into flux.

They took the French Quarter exit into town and Charlie thought they would head back into the heart of the neighborhood, so he was about to ask why they were stopping near the St. Louis cemeteries when she put her finger to her lips. The sun was dropping below the horizon and the church employees had padlocked the gates to keep the vagrants out.

Kendal took a running leap and landed on top of the brick fence surrounding the dead. It amused some who visited the city from places where people were buried in the ground and marked by a small stone or cross to see the elaborate silent cities the south erected to their dead. In the beginning when the first arrivals from France got off their boats they insisted on continuing the traditions that had been practiced in their homelands for generations, the burying of their loved ones was no different.

The first wave of sick and old died and they were placed in the ground in their pine boxes and prayed over. It worked out fine until the first rains of spring and summer came, then like macabre fish corks they popped out the ground and floated down the city streets. No matter how much weight was put over and in them, it rained and the coffins floated to the top breaking through the soil. After a couple of years of chasing bones down the alley ways of New Orleans, fences were put around cemeteries to hem them in.

She jumped again and landed on one of the taller mausoleums in St. Louis number one that would allow them to see into both locations. The grave belonged to one of the older families in New Orleans and there were probably generations of remains stacked inside. At the top of the marble structure was a large angel with her arms lifted to the heavens as if in awe of God. Her flowing robes of cement cast a deep shadow and made an excellent hiding place, Charlie just didn't know from what.

Kendal pressed her fingers to lips first then pointed to her eyes. Watch and listen, Charlie, she tried to send the silent message through her hand signals. Once the sky had turned dark and it was truly night it took less than twenty minutes for them to hear the first scraping of stone. She pressed her hand to his knee to keep Charlie from moving or making a sound. Those who hid in cemeteries, especially those under the protection and blessing of the church were the old ones.

These were vampires who were made before Jesus walked the earth spreading his message of salvation. Before the church took up the cause and added damnation to the teachings. Evil was just as capable of believing the diatribe of the church as its most faithful. The young ones stayed away from the holy places thinking the power of the Holy Spirit would drive them into hell. The old ones knew better. Only the warriors had that power and they were no spirits.

A tall bald man took the time to close the iron gate behind him as he stepped out to the walk circling the place. He straightened the coat he had on that looked very much like the one Kendal was wearing as he waited for his brethren to join him. The pommel of his sword came into view for only a second as he turned quickly and lifted his nose to the air.

"What is it, Horatio?" asked a thin man who had emerged from a grave topped by two small stone cherubs.

"There is a unique scent in the air. It almost makes me want to take the time to feed."

"There isn't time for that. We must go and see to the master's wishes."

"Don't worry, Arres, I know what my duties are."

Two sets of blue eyes watched them leave with incredible speed, joined by six others before the graveyard went back to silence.

"Who were those guys? They look different somehow," said Charlie.

"Just remember the names, Charlie. They are different and there's only one place I can think to go to find out why."

The bikes were left parked where they were as Charlie followed Kendal into the back of the Quarter. On Bourbon there was a sort of invisible dividing line around the seven hundred block where the bars and establishments were run by gay proprietors for gay clients looking for a good time.

"Come on, Toto, you aren't in Kansas anymore so watch you're ass," teased Kendal as they entered a place called Oz. The music was blasting so loud it made the floor almost vibrate and there was barely room for one more person on the dance floor.

"Why, do you think there's vamps in here?" asked Charlie at the top of his lungs to be heard.

"No, well not the blood sucking kind anyway. I just think you look divine in those pants and so will every guy in here." Kendal hadn't finished her warning when a cute guy wearing leather palmed Charlie's butt and winked at him. She laughed and kept walking toward the bar.

"Tell me why we're here again?"

"I felt like having a beer."

"You felt like having a beer? Ok. Tell me why we're having a beer here?"

"Because I wanted to see what the fuss was about."

"Fuss?"

"Nature gave us certain parts, so it doesn't make sense to me why you would want to mess with that. Take you for instance. Don't you ever wonder what it's like to have a guy who knows what he's doing show you what sex is all about?" Piper took a sip out of the bottle in her hand and watched two women move together to the Madonna song playing. They were sitting in the back corner of the place away from the large speakers so conversation was not impossible.

"I'll answer that question, if you answer one for me first," said Hill looking to see what Piper found so interesting.

"What?"

"How many men have you slept with who know what they're doing? In every category."

"Category?"

"Oral and body part utilization as you put it."

"Some."

"I see. Well I can tell you I've never met a woman yet who hasn't been able to satisfy every need I have, and I mean every need. Your problem is you find the idea repugnant, but you have no point of reference as to why. You should try it first before you go making any sweeping statements."

Piper turned to her and frowned. "I do not find it repugnant, I just don't get it, there's a difference. There isn't anything about women that would get my motor running so to speak. I mean I can appreciate the female form, but I also admire pretty dogs, doesn't mean I want to sleep with one." The label on the beer bottle finally lost the battle to Piper's picking and fell to the floor. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"You're just honest with yourself, Piper. There's nothing wrong with that. What I want to know is why we're here? There are some more subdued places where folks go to have a drink and hold hands that are of the same sex if you wanted to conduct a case study. This is the other end of the spectrum."

She waved a small hand toward the dance floor before opening her mouth. "It just seemed primal. Any inhibition these people even thought of having was checked at the door."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Hill about to take exception on behalf of some of her friends.

"That they're having a good time and not ashamed to show it. I'm looking but it still doesn't make sense to me."

"Maybe you're just looking in the wrong direction," said Hill smiling. Now she had some idea why Piper had dragged her out of her office to have a drink.

"What?" Piper followed Hill's finger to the bar and the two people leaning against it.

It should be a sin to always look that good thought Piper as she slowly looked at Kendal from head to boot. She had on a long leather coat with matching pants under it, with a pair of black biker boots. The hair, as always, was pulled back and held in place with what looked from here to be a silk ribbon. It was the only soft thing about the tall imposing woman.

"Why are we here?" asked Charlie echoing Hill.

"To see a woman about some history."

"You lost me, boss." Charlie slid a twenty across the bar and picked up the two drinks he had ordered, handing one to Kendal.

"Everyone gets to do what they want as long as it's legal, Charlie. The woman who owns this place wanted to try her hand at being a bar owner in this particular lifetime," said Kendal waving around her.

"She's one of us?" Kendal nodded and took a sip of the cold vodka. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked and you hardly ever leave the house. See what you would find if you were a little more adventurous."

A young Asian woman pouring drinks behind the bar looked over and saw the two friends talking. She wiped her hands as a huge smile covered her face, and motioned for one of the servers to take over for her. With a quick leap she landed on the bar and strolled the length of it until she was standing over Kendal. The bartender accepted the hand Kendal held up and proceeded to slide down the long body until she was pressed up against her old friend. Charlie looked on as the new arrival kissed Kendal like she was making plans for later.

"You shit, you didn't tell me you were in town. I had to hear it from Indigo while she was here," was the greeting when they pulled apart.

"I wanted to surprise you, and I need to see your teacher."

"Promise me a dance and I'll take you up myself."

"Deal, now let me introduce you to Charlie. Charlie, this is Kim; Kim, my dear friend Charlie." The two new acquaintances shook hands. "Kim is training to be an Elder archivist," she explained to Charlie.

"Your teacher works out of this place?" asked Charlie holding up his hands.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Don't you think it's kind of loud?"

"The libraries which pertain to our needs are a bit different than those you have been in before. My teacher likes to be reminded of why she works so hard to keep the history of civilization chronicled. Here she can feel the energy of who we are fighting for, Charlie."

"Gay people?" asked Charlie confused as to her point.

"Ok, Rush Limbaugh, that's not what she meant," said Kendal with a laugh.

"Please don't compare me to that windbag."

"Then stop looking at the world in black and white," retorted Kendal. "I think what Kim is saying is, here people who are not afraid to live are gathered almost every night in a celebration of life and who they are. Who better to fight for, and as you may notice, they're not all gay." There were a few couples in the crowd with someone of the opposite sex just there for the music.

"Come, I think Lenore will be happy to see you." Kim walked them to the stairs against one wall keeping close to Kendal as she moved.

"See she gets it," teased Hill as Piper's green eyes followed their progression the whole way across the room. Had the small blonde put any more pressure on the bottle she was holding when the bartender laid a kiss on Kendal, it would have shattered.

"What I see is Kendal Mackey is as easy as I thought she was. Are you ready to go?"

"No," answered Hill leaning back and kicking her feet out in front of her.

"Please come with me, I don't want to walk back to my car alone."

"I'm not staying because I want to pick up someone, Piper. I want to see who Kendal is here to see aside from the cutie behind the bar." She pointed to the door the three disappeared behind on the second floor. "That's the office, but as many times as I've been here, I've never seen anyone come out of there even though the light is always on."

They sat and waited with their eyes on the door. Every so often Piper's eyes would stray to the dance floor and the people packed on it. Would she be as free to express herself if it were Kendal she was grinding against? Could the tall businesswoman change her mindset when it came to who she thought she was? All Piper knew at the moment was she had felt like shit when Kendal had returned the woman's greeting so enthusiastically. That afternoon she had been on the receiving end of Kendal's undivided attention and she rather enjoyed it.

*  *  *

The room they entered was cavernously large. The bar's office was actually the entrance to the building next door and was filled with volumes of old books most of which were hand written in a variety of old languages. To add a bit of modern technology there was a bank of computers in the middle of the first floor next door. The way Lenore had set the library up was shelves on the first and second floors along the walls and a grand open space in the middle so anyone entering could enjoy the glass ceiling that let you see the night sky.

Kendal found her sitting next to the railing in a stuffed comfortable chair. There was a cup of hot tea on the table next to her and on her lap sat a book entitled simply "Ora." She was sitting with her legs crossed wearing a man's shirt and a pair of old soft jeans. "Asra, welcome. I was wondering when you would come calling."

Lenore had been made an Elder long before Kendal had met Indigo and became an immortal. In her human life she had been the priestess of her tribe and had an amazing memory for events. The Order had found her skills to be perfect for keeping an accurate unbiased account of world events and the people responsible for making them happen. She had been in the beginning of her thirtieth year when she had taken the elixir, forever preserving the beautiful delicate features her people had been known for.

"I'm sorry for neglecting to come sooner, Master," said Kendal bowing over her hand and kissing it. She moved aside so Charlie could follow her example.

"Please, Asra, let's not stand on ceremony. We really haven't got the time. Why are you here?"

"Charlie and I have been busy for the last few nights fighting Abez's forces in the city."

Lenore nodded and motioned them all to sit in the chairs surrounding hers. "Kim's kept an eye on you and hasn't reported any problems."

"The ones we've faced so far haven't been, but tonight I went to the graveyard looking for bigger fish and found eight strong looking vampires arising for the night. Two of them talked as they waited for their counterparts to wake."

Charlie jumped in now knowing why Kendal had told him to remember the names. "Horatio and Arres."

"Are you sure?" asked Lenore leaning forward as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Those were the names they used," confirmed Kendal.

"The tall one called Horatio, was he carrying a sword?"

"A large broad sword with a golden handle. I only saw it for a second but it looked like a," Kendal didn't get to finish as she looked at the page Lenore had turned to in the book in her lap.

"An asp with its mouth open ready to strike. I hear the workmanship of the fangs is quite extraordinary," the historian answered.

"Who is he?" asked Charlie.

"Horatio and Arres are the equivalent of the Order's Elders. They serve and protect Ora their queen and mother of all vampires. You see, Charlie, while demons like Abez have the ability to create more like him, there had to be a first. That was Ora, a witch who lived a few decades before Asra was born. She managed to work her black magic so that she could live forever on the living blood of others. Drink from her and you live forever as well but with the same thirst for life." The history lesson was barely heard by Kendal. She had been taught the same things years before and so had Charlie, but the woman's voice was hypnotic almost. There was something though that she had said that made the hair at the base of Kendal's neck stand on end.

"If they serve Ora, what are they doing here?" Kendal looked at the two women in turn to see if they were going to withhold information.

"Ora has hidden herself well from us for hundreds of years leaving only those like Abez to carry out her work. You have done well in the past at keeping their numbers reasonable, Asra, and hopefully Charlie will join the ranks of our elite warriors after this fight is done."

"But," prodded Kendal.

"But no matter how we've tried, we haven't been able to gather what she's been up to or what she has planned. It may be our luck is changing though. If you've seen both her most trusted advisors in the city, then it means their master is not too far away." Lenore flipped the page and there were the two men they had seen earlier sitting at the feet of a beautiful woman with long flowing red hair. "It is written that the three are never without each other."

"Sounds kinky," joked Kendal, getting Kim to laugh.

"Laugh now, but if she's here and guiding Abez we are all in great danger. Ora is powerful and will stop at nothing to dismantle the Order by burying us one by one."

"Then we have to keep fighting to even the odds. Most of the time the easiest way to kill the snake is to cut off the head and the body will wither. Now I'll have to do it in reverse. I'll hack the body to bits and the head will have no choice but to show itself and face me."

"May all that's good in the world be with you, warrior. Call again if you have any other questions." Kendal and Charlie kissed her hand again and followed Kim back down the stairs.

When the door clicked closed and the lock turned, Lenore pulled another book from the shelf closest to her and ran her fingers along the fine leather covering. With a few more exploits by the subject and she would have to start on a new volume. A smile formed on her lips as she started writing on an empty sheet with her favorite fountain pen. She had a feeling this chapter would take more than the usual page the other lifetimes had gotten. The gold lettering on the cover simply said Asra.

*  *  *

They left the bar without ever looking in the corner of the bar. Kendal pecked Kim on the lips one last time before heading out into the night to hunt. She wanted to finish with the last of the fledglings before taking on the older and savvier fighters. An hour before dawn found them close to the cemeteries again confident that the young ones were no more.

"The key to successful hunting, Charlie, is to trap your prey so it has no escape. The most successful hunters live by the credo, divide and conquer." She pointed from their same perch in the direction the vampires had disappeared earlier.

"Divide and conquer?"

"The two who arose first are the strongest in this bunch. The others are old but they are merely foot soldiers guarding the outside of wherever the queen bee has set up shop. Killing them will give us away tomorrow night, but Horatio and Arres will never leave this graveyard after tonight. They picked their resting place well. Plenty of spooks to keep them company in hell." Kendal waved her hand to point out all the other graves.

The eight moved back with the same speed as before, splitting up once they were over the wall. Horatio stopped before entering his tomb and sniffed the air as he had done earlier. The same familiar scent was in the air and he still couldn't place it. Arres had already gone inside but the other six were just opening the doors to their beds.

"All of you spread out and search the area. I'm not sure but I think there is someone here and I don't want any surprises once the sun comes up." The others looked concerned but didn't want to argue with Horatio. "Go, you have time before the sun rises." He unstrapped his sword before closing the iron gate behind him. The night had not been long enough to complete all their plans, so he looked forward to the sunset. Tomorrow his queen had given he and his men permission to hunt the warrior. Their plan was to bury her under the bitch she had cried over for decades in this very place.

"We can do this easy or we can go the hard route. What's your pick?" Kendal asked Charlie.

"I'm having a craving for a hamburger and home fries, so I pick easy."

"You're no fun, Charlie, but that does sound better than going down there and playing with these guys." She stood up and pulled out the weapon she had retrieved from the bike before climbing back up to their perch. The quiver held arrows strictly made of wood. The shafts where just sharpened on the ends, which weren't good for hunting game for the average bowman, but if shot with Kendal's strength they would do nicely for what she had in mind.

She nocked the arrow and drew the bow back. The man in her sights was short and stocky but held his sword like he knew what to do with it. When it clattered to the ground the others drew back their lips and showed their fangs at whatever the threat was. A second later another sword hit the sidewalk leaving the four remaining looking a bit more frantic.

"Look, up," one started, pointing at the woman in the silhouette of an angel in prayer. He never finished his statement as the arrow pierced his chest.

Charlie jumped down to fight with one as Kendal shot the two coming toward them. He had barely worked up a sweat as he went to meet the vampire's downward stroke when the man's sword shot to the right, embedding itself in the tomb where Horatio had entered. Looking up he put his hands on his hips and glared at Kendal.

"Hey, man, you said easy."

*  *  *

"Just tell me when she drives back home," Piper told Hill when the private investigator dropped her off at home. If she goes home that is.

"And that will serve what purpose?"

"Me knowing where to find her. I was planning on going over there and giving her something as a thank you for helping us and I can't do that if I don't know she's there."

"What are you getting her?"

Piper tried Kendal's intimidation tactic and arched her pale brow as best she could. "Why do you need to know that?"

"Just curious as to what you think Kendal Mackey might want or need." Hill smiled up at the woman leaning in the passenger side window. For once it was nice to watch Piper flounder since it was what she usually did to other people.

"Let's just say after I had to shell out the money for it, she has expensive taste."

Not to mention annoying ones, Hill kept the thought to herself as she tried to hold back a laugh. She had seen how the object of their investigation had looked at Piper the day they got caught on the property. "I'll call you, and good luck tomorrow if I don't see you."

That had been hours ago and Hill hadn't called her. Piper had waited until sleep claimed her on the sofa. At seven the phone on her chest rang scaring her so much she fell to the floor. "What?" she yelled into the phone in annoyance when she found a line of drool running down her cheek and she discovered her neck was killing her.

"They just rode by, I thought you'd want to know," one of Hill's employees informed her.

"What time is it?"

"A little after seven."

"In the morning?" asked Piper because her brain wasn't working.

"Yes, ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thanks for keeping me informed."

Piper picked a blue suit to wear after taking a shower; angry with herself for even caring enough to do this, but knowing she wanted to see Kendal again. The one thing she was looking most forward to though was waking the party animal up as payback for the crick in her neck.

One of the men she remembered from the previous morning when she'd stopped by for waffles opened the door and waved her inside. "Good morning, Miss Dupont. Would you like me to take that for you?" he asked, referring to the box in her hand.

"Thank you, but I would rather deliver it myself." She walked past him and headed for the stairs. "Want to tell me which room is hers?"

"Last one on the right."

She turned around and faced him from the third step. "Aren't you going to try and stop me?"

"Would you like me to?"

Piper laughed at his answer liking him already. "No, but I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Kendal is expecting you, Miss Dupont, if she weren't you'd still be buzzing at the front gate."

"Is she now?" He nodded before bowing his head slightly and heading back into the kitchen.

Piper walked slowly up the stairs and down the long hall, taking the opportunity to look at the house that had fascinated her even as a small child. The colors were fairly neutral, which was good since they didn't compete with the beautiful paintings and furniture she saw. Some of the paintings of people had small brass plates at the bottom with their name. One in particular stopped her before she got to Kendal's door.

The woman was dressed in a beautiful gown and she was seated next to a grand fireplace that didn't look like anything that would be in this house. She was older but even her fragile condition couldn't hide the mischief in her soft eyes. Behind her stood a man who resembled her with his hand on her shoulder. They shared the same smile. In her lap she held a book in place with a flat hand as if it were a treasure to her. Unlike the others though, this one had no name to hint at who the people might be.

She opened the door in time to see Kendal zip her pants up and start on her belt. It was amazing how fresh and alert the woman seemed after a sleepless night. "You're late," said Kendal sitting to put on her shoes.

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm dressed, so if you came over to see me naked again I'll have to take all this stuff off. Pain really, but if you insist I'd be willing to go through the trouble."

The urge to smash the box in her hand over Kendal's head was quickly becoming hard to fight. "Why do I bother trying to find things to like about you?"

"Because you find me irresistible. Face it, no matter how hard you try, you can't stay away." Kendal stood but didn't move closer. The blue skirt and jacket looked incredible on Piper so she was enjoying the view from where she was standing.

She snorted killing the sexy picture Kendal was enjoying. "You were right the first time. Mental illness must run in your family."

"Does that make me crazy about you?"

"Here, before you embarrass yourself any further with corny lines," Kendal accepted the box and ripped through the wrapping as soon as Piper let go. It was a box of the cigars she liked.

"Thank you, Piper, I don't know what to say." She held her hand out awkwardly not knowing what kind of thank you gesture the blonde would accept from her.

"You're welcome. I hope they're the right kind."

"Best smokes on the planet." Kendal put the box down on the nightstand and reached for the jacket resting on the bed. "Are you ready?"

Thinking Kendal meant breakfast, Piper had to turn her down. "I can't stay, I have a meeting this morning."

"How about you give me a ride into the city then since I do as well." The request made Piper's smile return and she nodded.

When they stepped out into the hall together, Piper admired the painting of the two people again before looking back at Kendal. "Want to tell me another story?"

"Miss Dupont, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Lola and Joseph St. Louis. Lola is responsible for the family recipe you enjoyed yesterday. Her pecan cakes as they were known back then were the envy of the Territory." Kendal looked at the question in Piper's eyes and quickly added one thing. "Or so I've read. Lola and her son were slaves here and she ran the kitchens and household staff for Jacques."

"She sure dressed nice for a kitchen slave."

"Lola, like all the other slaves who worked this land while Jacques was in residence was given her freedom and safe passage to England. This lovely woman ended up as the mistress of Farthington, Jacques' English estate. In her later years she rather enjoyed having others cook for her. The man standing behind her was her only son Joseph."

The thought of such a happy ending made Piper feel good for the people she was looking at. "What's the book in her hand?"

"That is the St. Louis family tree that chronicles Lola's family. Joseph, with a little guidance from his mother went on to marry and have twelve children. One of her descendants is a Member of Parliament. I think one of her greatest accomplishments and the thing she was the most proud of besides her family was being able to record their history and pass it on to her grandchildren. Slaves in general were prohibited from learning to read and write, but Jacques insisted on it for all his people." Kendal raised her hand and touched the book in the painting. The original was still at the estate in England along with all the volumes that came after. It had made her cry when she first looked at it long after Lola had died. The tree on the first page had the name Jacques St. Louis written among the roots.

"You know what I would wish for if someone would grant me just one?" Piper asked looking up at Lola's face.

"What?"

"I would like to go back in time and spend the afternoon with Jacques St. Louis."

Would you settle for breakfast? "An afternoon well spent if he had any brains at all." Kendal offered her arm and escorted Piper down the stairs.

*  *  *

The drive was slow. It didn't escape Kendal's notice that they were going ten miles under the speed limit as if Piper was trying to stretch out their time together. "Where can I drop you?"

"I'm sure you'd like it to be off a cliff but the Royal Sonesta is fine. I'm meeting someone for breakfast at Begue's. If that's out of your way, just drop me on Canal and I'll walk the rest of the way."

"Really? That's where I'm headed myself so it's no problem. Small world, huh?"

"You can fit it in a thimble at times." Kendal got out and waited for Piper to get her slip from the valet attendant outside the hotel. "I'll leave you to meet your party, thank you for the ride."

"Can I call you later?" Piper didn't want to sound like she was begging but Kendal was stuck in her head and the only way to extract her now was to find out what made the woman tick. In her experience that's where she found enough fault to get over any infatuation. But was what she was feeling infatuation? "You can tell me more about the people who once lived at Oakgrove."

"With all that's going on I would think you would want to concentrate on the living and the here and now." Kendal held her hand out to shake Piper's before going their separate ways.

"Is there something about me that you find unforgivable? I'm trying and I would like to get to know you better."

"Why would you want to? You have plenty of friends I'm sure. I can tell you all my stories if you want but I think you will never feel differently about me, so I think it's best if we part on the best terms we'll ever hope to achieve." For the first time since they had met, it was Kendal who sounded immature and childish.

"Do you judge women on whether or not they'll sleep with you?"

Kendal lifted one hand and rubbed her chin with it as if the question had stung. "No I do not, but let me ask you something. Why do you want to get to know me? What do you think you'll get out of that relationship?"

"A friend."

The image of her sword entering Angelina's chest played out in Kendal's head and she took a deep breath to still her emotions. Jacques would use everything in his power to get to her, especially people she cared about. They were all weaknesses. Her love for Indigo had been what had helped him escape before. There was no way she was putting this lovely woman in harms way.

"Piper, I can't…"

The blonde put up her hand to stop whatever else Kendal was going to say. "Never mind, my mistake." The abandoned child came out in force and Piper put up all her defenses.

"Please, Piper, let me explain."

"You don't want anything to do with me. What's to explain?"

Kendal put her hand on Piper's arm to keep her from walking away. "It isn't you, little one, it isn't you at all."

Piper laughed in a way that had nothing to do with humor. "Yeah right. Go back to your life, Ms. Mackey, and don't worry about having to placate me." She broke Kendal's hold and walked away leaving Kendal in the lobby not wanting the taller woman to see she was upset.

"Hello, granddad," Piper plastered a smile on her face and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Are you done celebrating?"

"Yes, there's a lot to do if we're really going to get access to the land next to ours. I have a meeting set with the staff for this afternoon to start going over our plan."

"There's someone who's done that already, darlin'. It's not set in stone but the preliminary surveys of what it will take to revamp our operation was delivered to the office this morning. Frank in operations is going over them now but they seem to be in order and have a good workable timeline." Mac lifted his orange juice glass and took a sip as he noticed the other person they were dining with enter the restaurant and look their way.

"Piper, you remember Kendal Mackey don't you?" asked Mac.

"Stood up were you?" Piper said with a little heat.

"No you're both right on time." Kendal shook hands with Mac and took the seat next to Piper's. "Did you get the paperwork I had sent over this morning?"

"Our guy's going over it now. I'm glad you could join us, Kendal, so we could take the time to properly thank you for what you've done. I can't say I can find a reason for why you did it, but Piper and I really are grateful." Mac nudged Piper's foot under the table with his.

"You sent the outline?" Kendal nodded her head. "Thank you for the loan but we're perfectly capable of handling our own affairs from here on out and we plan to pay you back every cent with interest."

"Piper, apologize right now," demanded Mac.

"None is needed, Mr. Dupont. I didn't come here looking for a pat on the back or gratitude. If you want a reason for why I helped you, all I can say is it seemed to be the right thing to do, and maybe I don't do that often enough." Kendal reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a business card. "I thought I would do one more thing before I go, but it's up to you as to whether you take the offer or not."

"Who is this?" Mac asked looking at the card.

"He's in charge of naval contracts and wants to do business with you on some Coast Guard Cutters being bid out. The contract will more than pay for any expansion and refitting you want to do, and it will show your potential for future business." Kendal folded the napkin on her lap and placed it on the empty plate in front of her. She was confident she had done everything she could to help these two people and could walk away with a clear conscious. "If you need anything else or have any problems, please contact my New York offices and someone will be glad to be of assistance."

"Please stay for breakfast. The least I can do is buy you some eggs," said Mac.

"That's not necessary, sir. Good luck to you and hopefully some time in the future we'll have the opportunity to sit and talk." Kendal took his hand and returned the firm handshake. "Miss Dupont, it was nice seeing you again, please take care of yourself." Kendal held her hand out to Piper only to have the young woman ignore it.

It would have hurt less if Piper had slapped her. It seemed ludicrous to Kendal that she cared, but by ignoring her, Piper had wiped away any good will they had built between them. It was for the best though. Now she could enter into any battle without the fear of dragging anyone with her and into harm's way.

Kendal's hand dropped back to her side and she sighed. "I'm sorry, Piper. I wish things had been different."

She left before Piper could respond. It seemed so final to the blonde. Kendal was leaving and really didn't have any plans to contact them again. If she didn't react now there was a chance she would never see the tall woman again.

Running out to the lobby, Piper was sure she could catch her before Kendal left, only there were only a few people looking at street maps planning their sightseeing day. She ran out the front door and looked down the street in both directions and felt like Kendal had just disappeared. It wasn't fair her mind screamed. Sure they had started off as combatants but there was something there now. Why would Kendal just walk away from her like everyone else had?

"You treated her like dirt, Piper, can you blame her for leaving?" she asked herself as the tears started running down her face. No matter how poorly she had acted, Kendal had rarely lowered herself to Piper's level and now she would never get to make it up to her.

"Don't cry, little one." The voice wrapped around her heart like the two arms that held her close. That Kendal was being so nice only made Piper cry harder. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry, but I thought I was doing the right thing to keep you safe. It's nothing you've done, please believe that." Piper just clung to her tighter and closed her eyes.

With time to compose herself, Piper took a deep breath and looked up at Kendal. "Please don't leave me," she asked in a shaky voice.

What Charlie had feared the most had come to pass. Kendal looked down into the green eyes and lost her heart again. It felt like a losing proposition all around to care for someone she could have no future with because Piper would never return her affections but maybe she could just be what the blonde needed and offer her friendship despite what she wanted.

"Never, little one, don't worry." With gentle fingers she wiped away the last of Piper's tears. "I will never leave you and I will always look after you." Kendal spoke the words praying to any god that would listen she could keep that promise.

PART 4

"YOU PROMISE YOU won't leave if I go in?" asked Piper. She had yet to let go of Kendal but her tall comforter didn't seem to mind the closeness.

"I'll wait right here, I promise."

"I'll just be a second. I don't want to leave without telling my granddad first so he won't worry."

Kendal stepped back and pointed to her feet. "Right here, I promise." She put her hands in her pockets and watched Piper walk inside glancing back every few steps to make sure Kendal was intending to keep her promise. "If I had any sense at all though I'd run as fast as I could to get the hell out of here."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" asked the doorman.

"Just talking to myself." Kendal felt the small hand come to rest in the crook of her arm signaling Piper's return.

"Now there's a sure sign of mental illness, Mackey. You should see someone about that," teased Pier handing her valet ticket over. "Can we go back to your place?"

"I never said it was my place."

"And you never said it wasn't," Piper shot back. She pulled Kendal toward the car as soon as the guy put it in park. He accepted a tip from Kendal who sent him to hold the door for Piper as she got behind the wheel.

"Drive on, Miss Dupont. The day is yours."

"Just the day?" Piper asked feeling reckless.

"I'd give you my nights, but I can't — not yet."

Piper looked at her before putting the car in gear noticing the softening of Kendal's face. "You're not willing to persuade me to share, your nights I mean?" She leaned into the hand Kendal pressed to her face.

"I'm sure you're more than capable of heading down that yellow bricked road all by yourself, Dorothy." Kendal moved her hand so she could pinch the cute cheek.

"You saw me in Oz?"

"And your little dog too."

Piper laughed, "I'm sure Hill will appreciate that. Why didn't you acknowledge me?"

"I could ask the same thing of you."

The car started forward and Piper concentrated on driving while she fished for an answer. "I wasn't there because I thought you'd be there," she slapped Kendal's arm when she pouted. "It's really the last place I thought I'd find you. I was just broadening my horizons, then you swoop in and lock lips with the bartender."

"Hey, you were there with a date."

"In Hill's twisted little brain maybe. I wanted to see women who prefer the company of other women. I was trying to understand the attraction." Piper wanted to be honest.

"And do you, understand now I mean?"

"I understand that I didn't find anyone in there remotely interesting," she paused to run her tongue over her bottom lip. "Until you walked in. And I understand I didn't much care for that woman kissing you."

"Why, Piper Dupont, you sound jealous."

The blonde shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I was."

"There's no need to feel that way, she's just an old friend, nothing more." Kendal put her hand on the young woman's knee. "Get us back to Oakgrove and I'll make it up to you."

Now that Piper knew she would get Kendal for the day, the drive out to the estate seemed shorter than ever. "This really is a beautiful place," said Piper as they pulled into the drive.

"Do you have something more comfortable to change into? I'll give you a tour."

Piper went to the house with her gym bag and changed into her sweats so she could walk with Kendal. The guest room Kendal led her to looked out over the back garden and had the most beautiful four-poster bed Piper had ever seen. Not being able to resist she lay down and closed her eyes.

"You want to take a nap?"

Piper cocked her head up at the question and grimaced. "No, I want a tour."

"Something wrong with your neck?"

I was waiting for the people I had tailing you to report in and fell asleep on my uncomfortable couch. She went with another explanation thinking too much honesty in one day might prove her downfall. "I slept in the wrong position I guess." She got up and walked to the door ready to go out.

"Turn around for me."

"Why? I said I'm all right."

Kendal put her hands on the sides of Piper's neck. "No sense hurting when you don't have to." She twisted first to the right and then just slightly to the left feeling the bones crack back into alignment. Kendal couldn't hear the crunch over Piper's scream.

The shorter woman turned around ready to light into Kendal when she realized how great she felt. She dropped her poking finger and just said, "Thank you."

Their walk took most of the morning and the only time Piper interrupted Kendal's guided tour was to ask for more details about the plantation's history. Kendal's knowledge was so in depth that Piper began to wonder if memorizing the family's history was mandatory for all the St. Louis heirs. Every field and what was grown in it was pointed out, and along with that were endless anecdotes of the people who had once lived there.

"They grew tobacco?"

"Some of the finest around."

"Maybe that's genetic too," teased Piper. She was walking backward to keep her eyes on Kendal. They were nearing the back of the house again and she was about to offer to take her guide to lunch. "But you should think of giving up the nasty habit of your cigars, they're not very healthy for you."

"I'm made of tougher stuff than that, so don't worry about me and my nasty cigars." With a smile she winked at the servants behind Piper. "This was all once used for the home garden," Kendal pointed to the area now covered sporadically with shade trees and flowering plants.

When Piper turned around to look all she saw was the elegantly set table under two of the oaks. Some of the house staff stood nearby waiting for their arrival. "Hungry?" asked Kendal.

"You're too much." Piper reached for Kendal's hand feeling like she was going to start crying again. "Thank you again for today."

"You deserve so much more."

"Only my grandparents have ever thought so."

Kendal didn't let go of her hand as they walked to the table. "Then let me show you otherwise."

Piper took her seat and lifted her wineglass to Kendal as soon as her hostess finished pouring. She enjoyed the simple but hearty meal as she listened to Kendal talk about different topics. It would not ever be a burden to spend time like this she thought because Kendal was such great company.

"More coffee, miss?" asked the server standing next to the table holding a silver urn.

"I would love some but I'm about to explode," laughed Piper holding her stomach. "Could you point me in the direction of the nearest bathroom?" she asked Kendal.

"Right behind you," Kendal pointed to a tree.

"Don't make me laugh, and don't think I'm dropping my pants out here."

"Let's go then, before you mess up my lawn furniture." The walked back together and Kendal deposited her at the nearest bathroom. "I'll wait for you right out there," Kendal pointed to the porch swing visible out the window.

"Put me on that after all the food I just ate and you may have to pinch me to keep me awake."

"I'd love to."

Piper closed the door on her teaser and hurried before all the wine and coffee started leaking out. There was no one around when she stepped out so she started for the door to find Kendal. It was the movement of a busy squirrel in the window that made her look in the sitting room closest to the front door. When she did, Piper forgot to breathe.

The woman in the painting looked so much like her it was scary. She moved forward until she was standing in the center of the room frightened to get any closer to her twin. Whoever had painted it had done an excellent job giving the woman a life like expression and eyes that followed you and drew you in. Piper sensed when Kendal joined her, but she didn't need to ask who they were looking at, Hill had done an admirable job of describing Angelina du'Pon from the painting at the church.

"Why didn't you tell me?" It wasn't an accusation, just a real wanting to know. Piper asked the question facing Angelina's image almost expecting it to answer it was so lifelike.

"What did you want me to say? Even if you're looking for an explanation there is none. I don't know why you look so much like her — you just do."

"So much? Kendal, I look just like her."

"You are your own person, Piper, and there are differences. Your eyes are darker, she was just a tad taller, but that makes no difference. You are both beautiful women in the hearts of those who care about you. To think otherwise would be to disrespect the women you are as individuals. I didn't tell you because to me it didn't matter."

"Are you sure? Is she why you didn't want to see me anymore? I'm not her if that's what you're worried about. I understand she was set to marry Jacques and she died. I'm not her and you're not Jacques, Kendal." Piper looked back at her and felt like she was in some bizarre dream. "The same thing won't happen to us."

"I don't know, sometimes we can all learn from the mistakes of the past. Do you know how Angelina died?"

"The priest we talked to wasn't very forthcoming."

Kendal dropped into one of the chairs in the room and looked passed Piper to the painting hanging in the room. "There are very few who know what happened to her and I'm trying my best to keep anything remotely like it from happening again. It's why I want you to leave here today, Piper, and never look back. I hope our time together shows you it's nothing I have against you."

"I don't want to walk away from you." Piper moved closer and sat next to Kendal. "There's no way for me to know what happened to her, but I'm sure the same thing won't happen again."

With a shaking hand, Kendal reached across for one of Piper's to hold. "I wasn't lying when I told you I was here on family business." Kendal had not planned to tell Piper any of this but it was growing late and it was time to return to the fight. Jacques and others like him had the ability to steal your thoughts and she wanted none of hers to reflect a growing affection for this woman.

"What does that have to do with people who lived a long time ago?"

"Angelina died at the hands of Jacques' brother because of an old rivalry that went too far. It's my brother who brings me to the city now and it would seem that history is again repeating itself. I don't want to drag you into the middle of that, so please listen to what I'm saying."

"You think he's that dangerous?"

"More than Henri St. Louis ever thought to be."

"What if I want to help you? You know, to return the favor for helping granddad and me."

"You can do that by working to make Dupont a success and forgetting about me. I gave you a chance but it'll take your talent to make it work."

Piper moved closer and put her hand on Kendal's cheek. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me you want me to walk out of your life right now, I'll respect your wishes." Her hand stroked the smooth skin and a new cascade of thoughts ran through Piper's mind. "But don't ask me to like it."

It nearly killed her but Kendal looked right at her, the blue eyes never wavering and spoke her heart. "I want you to go, Piper. I want you to go and erase this place from your mind."

"I don't know if I can do that." Piper looked like she wanted to hang on to Kendal like she had outside the hotel anything to keep her close.

Kendal desperately wanted to kiss Piper but knew she had to maintain her self-control, for both their sakes. Instead, as she walked Piper to her car, she stopped and told her one more thing. "This may sound strange, but if anyone you don't know comes to your house asking to be let in, especially at night, refuse and lock the door. This is important, Piper. I can't explain it right now, but refuse even if they say they know me and I'm in trouble. Promise me you'll remember what I'm saying."

"Why?"

The laugh was mixed with what sounded like exhaustion, but in reality it was frustration for the little pit bull who loved nothing better than to engage her at every turn. "For the love of the gods, just promise me."

"Ok, I promise."

They walked out both with a growing sadness. "I'm sorry," said Kendal as she opened Piper's door.

"Will you promise me something in return?"

"If it's in my power to give you my word I will."

She felt completely out of her element but Piper didn't want to leave without getting close to Kendal. "If you resolve this problem, call me. I just found you and I don't want to lose my friend so easily."

"I promise," Kendal said without hesitation. She also didn't hesitate when Piper put her hands on her chest then moved them behind her head.

"Hill told me your word is important to you, so I'm holding you to that." She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to Kendal's. What had started as a goodbye gesture took the blonde by storm. Kendal's lips were soft and firm against her own and the tall strong body drew her in. The last thing she wanted to do was let go.

It was Kendal who pulled away and broke them apart. "Go on, Piper, and stay safe."

"Remember your promise." Kendal nodded and closed the door when Piper got in the car. She walked into the house without looking back, afraid if she did she would ask Piper to stay.

*  *  *

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Charlie.

"The last thing in the world I want to do is talk about it. Are you ready to go in? I want to get there early and talk to Lenore again, I have one more question before sunset." Kendal strapped on all her weapons and touched her lips one last time before walking out the door. She could still feel Piper's lingering touch, but like she had told the young woman, now was the time to forget.

"It won't kill us to take a night off if you need to."

"I'm an immortal, Charlie, I may get lonely but I never get tired."

"I don't know about you, but sometimes I get emotionally tired. There's nothing wrong with giving in to that."

"It doesn't matter now what I feel, it won't change what needs to be done or who I need to stay away from."

They took the truck into the city so Kendal could look out the window of the passenger side and brood until they arrived. When they were close to Oz she pointed to the curb and ordered Charlie to stop. Hill didn't have a chance to get where she wouldn't be seen when Kendal stepped into the middle of the street and stopped her car.

"I want you to drive to Piper's and spend the night with her." She leaned into the open driver's side window and dared Hill to say no.

"We don't have that type of relationship, trust me I'm the last person she's interested in." Hill answered as she swallowed hard, glad Kendal didn't look too pissed with her.

"I'm not asking you to sleep with her, I just want you to keep an eye on her. Whatever she's paying you, tell her you have a new boss who's paying you four times your fee and you couldn't refuse." She started back to the truck when she turned around. "Don't let me find you out here again tonight, Hill, I mean it. If things don't work out the way I have planned I don't want her to be alone and unprotected."

"I don't know what's going on but I won't let you down."

Kendal was satisfied when she saw the car turn the corner and head back in the direction of Piper's condo. She wanted this to end so she could go back to trying to find some pleasure in living this lifetime without the threat of Abez and his demon queen hanging over her head.

*  *  *

"Which of them is stronger?"

"Which of who?" asked Lenore looking up from her books. Kim was behind her placing some of the volumes they had used that morning back in their place.

"Between Horatio and Arres, which of them is stronger?" Kendal put her hands on the table and bent a little so they were more eye level. "I need to know before the sun sets tonight, and I know you're the one who can tell me."

Lenore was no warrior but she was not easily intimidated either. She looked into Kendal's eyes without moving back. "Horatio is the stronger and older of the two. Why?"

"I'm back in New Orleans after all this time, maybe it's time I went back to some of those old traditions. I'm planning on killing his little buddy and calling Horatio out, but only if he brings his friends Ora and Abez."

"Asra, be careful of what you ask for, or you might just get it. I may not be as well versed in the arts of war as you are but I think it would be wiser to handle them one at a time. Together they will be almost invincible."

"No one lives forever, Lenore, and no one is invincible." Kendal moved even closer to her in challenge.

Lenore wavered and leaned back unable to stand the intensity of Kendal's stare. "You are proof that one can live forever."

"We cannot know what forever is, but I do know what fighting is and that's what I intend to do. With Charlie at my side I will end this or die trying."

Lenore nodded and saw the muscle in Kendal's jaw stretch tight. "Take care, warrior, and go with just one more piece of advice."

"Watch out for the sharp teeth?" joked Kendal.

"Your sense of humor has always set you apart, Asra, but I speak of more serious things." The woman stood and put her hand on Kendal's head. "Wipe her from your mind or he will use her against you. Abez is your brother so your mind is more open to him than most."

Kendal didn't need to ask who Lenore was referring to, if this immortal could sense Piper in her mind, what would happen when she faced Jacques? "If something happens to me, if they are able to bury me where I will never be found, will you talk with her? Tell her how sorry I am to not keep my promises."

"Go with a clear head and heart, warrior, I'll be happy to talk with your woman."

"She's not…"

"Go, the sun is starting to set." Lenore pointed to the darkening skies visible through her skylights.

*  *  *

Two flips got them over the wall of the graveyard and without hesitation Kendal moved to the mausoleum Arres had entered the night before. Together they moved the heavy stone lid that kept any light out during the day and looked down at the sleeping vampire. His skin blistered a little with the little light left in the sky but it wasn't her intention to let him suffer long. Kendal sank her sword into his chest truly turning this place into his grave.

They waited close to the iron gate of Horatio's lair wanting him to see his visitors this time. Minutes after it got dark, Kendal and Charlie heard the stone sliding open inside. "Draw your weapon, Charlie, because I can't guarantee he'll take me up on my offer."

When Horatio stepped out, his distinctive sword was in his hand at the ready. "Ah, I should have realized last night who the scent belonged to, warrior. Here to face me are you?"

"In good time, Horatio, but I want you to bring all the troops when you do. I want Abez and your queen to come and try to bury me."

The vampire laughed enough for them to see his elongated canines. "I have no need of help to do that, Asra. I won't be like all those fledglings you've faced through the ages. In me you will find your most worthy opponent and you can praise my skill as I destroy you."

"Bragging and twenty bucks will get you a hooker down on Desire, but all I really need is an answer to my offer."

"Kendal, let's try and not agitate the big vampire," said Charlie through clenched teeth.

"I choose to face you now and gift my queen with the victory."

Kendal shrugged her shoulders and pointed to a low gravesite. "Charlie, have a seat, this shouldn't take long." She pulled the katana out and faced the big man who was already moving in a circle around her. "Hey, windbag, you here to fight or do the tango?"

The taunt got him to move forward in an angry lunge with his sword out in front of him. Horatio was temporarily shocked when moments later he was on the ground with his face in the grass unable to feel his sword anywhere near his hand.

"Swordsmanship 101, butthead, never enter a fight with your anger showing." Kendal kept her boot on his head and pressed the tip of the katana between his shoulder blades. "You end up either dead or really hurting." The blade slid in, but she stayed clear of his heart. For now she needed him alive.

"I will never tell you where they are, so you might as well destroy me like you have my brothers." His voice had lost all its bravado and Horatio sounded like he was in pain.

She twisted the blade viciously thinking of this man's victims through the years. Their spirits demanded some retribution. "I don't need you to tell me where they are, I already know where to find them and I know they are now without protection. You have failed, Horatio, and Ora will haunt your afterlife for eternity for your failure."

With the last of his strength he turned, threw her off and rolled to his knees. He saw his sword not far from him and he made a desperate dive for it. Before Charlie could move from his seat, Horatio stuck it into Kendal's leg and ran to the wall. On the other side he ran as fast as he could clutching both hands to his chest.

"Charlie, wait." Her voice stopped him from following Horatio.

"But he's weak enough to finish off."

"I wanted him to get away. He's running off to the evil bitch who made him to warn her of our coming."

"Should I follow then, since you so kindly took a hit in the leg for the cause?"

"Would you please, and stay out of sight. Let me tie this up so I don't leave a trail and I'll join you." Kendal ripped a piece of her shirt off and tied the cut on her leg. The plan hadn't gone exactly like she wanted but now maybe they would know where Jacques and Ora were staying and if they had any other minions they would have to deal with.

Running was a bit uncomfortable but Kendal cleared the wall with no problem. She followed the blood drops Horatio had left for her knowing it would take months of feeding to heal the wound she had inflicted. The power to heal quickly was one that the immortals enjoyed but not their dark brethren. Once wounded with wood the cuts and punctures festered for months and drove their hunger to an almost painful state.

Piper gasped as she saw Kendal limp down the street. "See I told you we were right in coming out here. Look at her she's hurt," said Piper from the passenger seat of Hill's car. They had seen her from two blocks away, and that was as close as Hill was willing to get to "Jedi Master Kendal." It was like Kendal had a sixth sense that alerted her to anyone watching her.

"Piper, she's jogging down the street at a fairly good clip, she doesn't look all that hurt to me." Hill peered through her binoculars waiting for Kendal to pick street to enter the Quarter before starting the car and following. "Would this be a good time to mention what a bad idea this was again?"

"If you want to, you can go back to your office, but I'm not leaving her out here alone with some lunatic who wants to kill her. How horrible is it to know your brother wants to hurt you? I don't have any siblings, and now I'm kinda glad about that."

"Did she tell you why he wants to kill her?" Hill started the car as soon as Kendal crossed the main boulevard separating the Quarter streets from the downtown area and followed her. "I mean she seems nice enough."

"She didn't come out and say it but he sounds crazy. Of course, being related to Kendal Mackey could make anyone crazy, just look at her. She's great looking, has a body that makes you sweat just thinking about it and she's outrageously successful. Those three things alone would fuel a sibling rivalry for eternity." Piper was bouncing in her seat trying not to lose sight of Kendal.

A body that makes you sweat just thinking about it? Interesting, thought Hill as she pulled behind a car when Kendal's head looked like it was about to turn to look behind her. "Have you seen her body recently in a different light than the rest of us mere mortals?"

"It was an accident." Piper wouldn't make eye contact and she was picking at the seam of her jeans. "We're going to lose her if you don't get going."

"We're fine, don't try to change the subject. When did you see her body?" They started down the street again when Kendal commenced her jog.

"I went over there thinking she had been hurt, remember I told you about it?"

Hill was loving this. It was like finding Anita Bryant was having an affair with her minister's wife. Never had Piper talked like that about men much less a woman whom she had hated up to about ten minutes before. "How does that translate to seeing her in something a little more revealing than a suit? And I sure as hell don't remember that being part of the story you told me."

"It wasn't sexual, Ms. Dirty Mind. I was just checking to see that she wasn't hurt. She found it quite amusing actually."

"Spill it, Piper."

"I ripped open her robe and she was naked underneath it, satisfied?"

"Extremely. I would've paid good money to see that." Hill pulled over again when Kendal went up the walk of an old house in the middle of the block. The woman's athletic abilities amazed her as she watched her scale the wall to enter from a second story open window. "Who do you think lives here?"

"Might be the crazy brother. I just hope she doesn't go out the back." As soon as Piper said it, Kendal walked out the front door.

The house had been the one Jacques had been using in the evenings. Kendal had found some of his things in the biggest room upstairs as well as the body of what looked to be a young teenager decayed and rotting in the closet of another room down the hall. Death had frozen her in her last scream probably from the fear of the teeth puncturing her neck. Aside from those clues, the house was empty and the trail of blood started again down the sidewalk as if Horatio had leaped over the picket fence to continue his journey.

"What does this woman eat?" asked Hill as Kendal started running again. The droplets were more spaced apart meaning Horatio must have felt desperate to get to wherever he was going before it was too late. Kendal felt the same urgency so she sped up her run, if only to keep Charlie safe when the vampire reached his destination. There would be no way Charlie could fight off Ora and Abez alone.

They left the Quarter and crossed Canal Street headed toward the Uptown area. Kendal never stopped or even slowed down the entire way until they got to First Street. There she had to get down on her knees to see in what direction the blood fell. Horatio was headed back toward the river.

The gas lamps on each side of the front door flickered every so often in the wind. It was like they were trying to give the people inside a warning of what was standing down the street. In the shadows of the trees lining the street, Kendal looked at the structure and knew in her gut this was the place. She scanned the area looking for Charlie or anything out of the ordinary. It was now almost three in the morning and the neighborhood was quiet aside from the occasional dog or cat roaming the streets.

She unclipped her whip and snaked it in the direction of the nearest thick tree limb. In a moment Kendal was gone from sight and sitting next to Charlie. "Is he in there?"

"He ran from the Quarter to here and I haven't seen him since. You doing ok?"

"Fine, I take it you saw Jacques' current home?"

"Not close enough to go inside and check it out. Our bleeding friend went in and out so fast you would've sworn some mad woman with a sword was chasing him down the street," joked Charlie. He fell silent when Kendal put up her hand and pointed to the front window.

There in the shadow of the low lights inside stood Jacques in only a pair of pants. His naked chest almost gleamed brighter than the moon. In his hand was the sword that Horatio had stabbed her leg with. Charlie shivered and looked to see Kendal's reaction when Jacques ran his finger along the drying blood and licked it off.

"They aren't going anywhere for the night and if I had to guess, their resting place is on the grounds. We'll come back in the morning and take a look around and leave our calling card. If we have to fight these things, it will be on our terms and on our turf." Charlie nodded and looked back to the man in the window.

"Do you think they have any others in there with them?"

"A handful maybe, but it won't matter. Tomorrow is the full moon and at midnight it will be all hallows eve. I can't wait for them to come for their treat."

Charlie's eyes watered as if he didn't realize another anniversary was coming to mark the murders of his family. The time he had waited for had finally arrived. "We'll be ready."

"You bet your ass, Lionel. Tomorrow we will fight for Celia and Angelina." They each grabbed the other's arm in the greeting of warriors. Sealing their solemn vow for vengeance.

*  *  *

"You want to stay here tonight?" asked Charlie. They had walked back toward the car at a reasonable pace but now Kendal was heading back to the hotel where she still had a suite.

"I would love to go home, but then certain people would only follow us and I don't want them anywhere near Oakgrove tomorrow for any reason. It may come to me tying the both of them to chairs in Piper's condo, it's their choice."

"You're losing your touch, buddy."

Kendal punched his arm and laughed. "It's a new day, Charlie, but it does make you hanker for the days when you could club them over the head and drag them back to the cave. I have a feeling though if I tried that with Piper I would thank Indigo everyday for giving me the ability to not need sleep, cause that woman would kill me the minute my eyes were closed."

"You lived when people did that. I always thought it was a myth."

"It is a myth, at least when you consider all the women in my life. It's not very fun if they aren't willing to go toe to toe with you. I bet that's why you still miss Celia."

Charlie remembered the woman who was his greatest friend and lover. His wife had a wicked temper though, but it only came out when Charlie was found doing something he knew she'd disapprove of. "I don't care what era it was, there wasn't a club big enough to intimidate her. I loved her with all my heart, but ooh that woman was scary when she got mad."

"We've been lucky, my friend, those were women worth fighting for." They neared the hotel and Charlie declined her offer of a room. It was purely superstition but Charlie wanted to visit the field where the remains of his family were put to rest. On the eve of their being avenged he wanted to watch the sunrise from there and pray for their guidance.

"I'll meet you here in a little while."

Kendal put her hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Put in a good word for me as well."

*  *  *

"Good morning, Ms. Mackey. Are you enjoying your visit so far?" asked Edwin when he recognized her.

"It's been great, thank you for asking. They haven't given my room away in my absence have they?"

"No, ma'am, there's even a chocolate waiting on your pillow. Would you care for anything else to be sent up? Perhaps a doctor to look at your leg," he said calmly. She had chosen a pair of light colored buckskin pants, which were great for comfort, but didn't hide bloodstains very well.

"It's not mine, but thanks again."

He opened the door and saw she left a bit of a bloody footprint on the tile. "Are you sure? We have a guy who makes house calls."

"Trust me, Edwin, you should see the other guy."

Kendal unlocked the door and stepped into the closet to remove the weapons she was carrying. The cut didn't hurt really, but it was starting to annoy her, so she opened the curtains of the large window facing the city and leaned her hands on it. With the first sign of dawn the process began again. There was no need to remove the pants to watch what was happening like she had so many times in the past. It was like watching a flower bloom in fast motion. The sun would knit the skin together healing her body inside and out. It was done when the door to the suite opened behind her.

"I knew it," said Piper when she spotted Kendal leaning against the window.

"I remember something about you and a promise. You can't blame forgetfulness since you made said promise less than twenty-four hours ago. I thought I told you to stay away from me." Kendal tried to sound angry but it wasn't working. "It's the only way I know of keeping you safe."

"And you promised to be careful and come back to me, and look at you."

"I don't remember promising any of that."

Piper pulled Kendal's shirt out of the stained pants without the tall woman stopping her. "I'm fine really. The blood isn't from any fresh cut."

Piper poked her finger a little into the slash in the leather the sword had made. "Let me help you, don't shut me out. Please, Kendal."

"Darlin', I'm all right. I wouldn't lie to you about something like that."

"So sue me because I don't believe you." She held up the part of the shirt where Kendal had torn away her impromptu bandage. The tie of the pants came undone next.

"Is this some ploy to see me naked again?"

Piper's movements grew more frantic and her eyes filled with tears. "This isn't a joke. Hill had to hold me down when I saw you were hurt. I can't stand to see you bleeding. Why can't you understand that? Why don't we just call the police? This isn't worth your life."

Kendal held Piper's hands and looked down at her leg. Looking at it in the growing light she realized how it would look to someone like Piper. "This is something I've got to do alone."

"But I don't want to lose you."

She let Piper's hands go and let her pull the bloodied and torn pants down her legs. Piper pulled away the strip of shirt Kendal had tied to slow the stream as it soaked through, and uncovered smooth perfect skin. "I don't understand."

"I told you I was fine."

"Kendal, no one ties a bandage to their leg for nothing. What were you trying to do make a fashion statement?"

"I was trying to fool someone into thinking I was hurt so they would lead me to the people I really wanted. I'm sorry if you misunderstood and I worried you. You have to believe that I wouldn't intentionally try to hurt you."

The crying woman got back to her feet and turned as if she were trying to decide to leave or stay. "You did hurt me by sending me away. I don't understand any of this, but I am starting to understand how I feel about you. What I don't know is if I'm strong enough to stand by and watch you try to destroy yourself."

"What do you feel?" Kendal stepped out of the pants and moved closer to Piper so she could put her hands on her shoulders.

"I ache inside when I think someone has hurt you." The proud shoulders slumped and Piper's tears fell in earnest. "Stupid, huh?"

She pulled Piper against her chest and held her as tight as she could without hurting her. "No, not stupid. That's very sweet and it makes me feel lucky to know you care about me." The blonde hair smelled like a citrus grove and the aroma made Kendal relax. "Now you know how I feel when I think about someone hurting you."

"Why would anyone want to hurt me?"

"If you get too close to me, you become a weapon my enemies can use against me. This isn't a game, Piper, you need to understand that before it's too late and you get caught in a position where there's no easy way out." Kendal turned her around so she could see Piper's face. "Now that you see I'm all right, it's time for you to go. And this time I need you to keep your promise and stay away from me until I find my brother and deal with him."

"I don't want to go, not yet." Piper laid her head on Kendal's chest and tightened her arms around her waist. "Everyone I love sends me away for my own good and I think it's time to decide for myself what's best."

"Little one, from what I know of your family it seems to me that your father didn't send you away, he was just lost without the woman he loved. You have to understand that she was his world and when she died it killed a large part of his heart. It wasn't right that he wasn't able to show you how much you meant to him, but some people aren't as strong as others."

"He blamed me for her death. He never said it out loud but I could tell. If she hadn't had me she would still be here."

Kendal put two fingers under Piper's chin and raised the tear stained face. "Your mother's death was nature's fault not yours."

"You don't know that."

"I know lots of things, and of this I'm sure. Your parents were lucky; they were in love and left behind one shining example of what they meant to each other. They left the world you." She ran her hand along Piper's face wiping away her tears and trying her best to comfort and heal the pain of the little girl who had taken on her father's pain and guilt. "Open your eyes and see what the rest of us do. You're smart, driven and beautiful."

Piper blushed and laughed at the compliment. "I thought you said I was annoying. If I remember the quote correctly it was something about a pesky little thing buzzing around your ear."

"Lucky for you I happen to like annoying. Had we dismissed each other right off we wouldn't be here. I've found that sometimes anger is as strong an emotion as all the others combined. It hasn't been boring, has it?"

"No, and you're right, I haven't got a good explanation as to why I'm here. A week ago I wanted your head mounted on my wall."

Kendal moved her hands down to Piper's waist. "And now?"

"Now I want to do everything I can to keep you whole so I can spend more days walking around Oakgrove with you, listening to you tell me stories about interesting people who lived long ago. And in return, I want to build a friendship with you that will be a treasure to both of us."

"I would love that, but we had a deal remember? You need to go."

"I will, just not yet." Piper pulled away from her and reached for Kendal's hand. She looked around until she found the bathroom and started pulling the tall woman behind her. It was obvious to her that the blood didn't belong to Kendal, where it came from was a mystery, but it had dried and stained her leg almost completely.

"Piper, can I ask what you have in mind here?"

"I want to help you get cleaned up, then I'm going to order room service and then I'm going to watch you sleep. If you're running around after people who want to kill you then you have to get some sleep."

Kendal pulled her to a stop. Part of her brain loved the suggestion but the more rational section put pressure on the brakes. "As great as that sounds, we can't."

"Why not? It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," Piper's smile turned teasing as she pulled on Kendal's hand to get her moving. It was like trying to rip up an oak with just your hands. They weren't moving until she convinced Kendal otherwise.

"Because I don't need to sleep, and you've got to get going."

"Unless you're something not human, you need to sleep. I was up all night trailing after you and I'm exhausted and all I did was ride around in the car. If you don't lie down and sleep then you'll force me to break my promise and follow you around to make sure you're safe."

"Then let me be honest here." Kendal did the only thing she could think to motivate Piper to walk out the door. With a gentle pull she pressed Piper against her and kissed her with all the passion she felt for the young woman. This time she gave herself permission to let her hands wander and her tongue tasted Piper's. She was sure that it would scare the blonde into wanting to get as far away from her as possible. Kendal pulled away when she felt Piper slump against her.

"Umm…" Piper didn't really know what to say.

"I don't want to be, because I know how you feel about this sort of thing, but I'm attracted to you, Piper. It would be torture to get in that shower and know I couldn't touch you like I want. I'm sure I can get used to the idea of just being your friend, but I need time to convince my heart of that." Kendal laughed and patted the side of Piper's face with her palm. "Time and to remain clothed at all times when we're together."

"Umm…"

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, but I can't help but want to kiss you every time I see you. I'll understand if you want to leave now."

As she had done in their short history together, Piper did something Kendal wasn't expecting. She pulled away from her and put her hands on her hips. The pose showed she was pissed and didn't appreciate being played. It only made Kendal's libido stand up and take notice. If Piper's eyes got any darker there would be begging involved, Kendal was sure of it.

"Who said anything about me getting into the shower with you, you big moose." The small hands left her hips and moved to the top button of her shirt. It popped open quickly and Piper moved to the next one on the cotton garment she had on.

"Umm, Piper, darlin', we have to stop before we get to some place you don't want to be." Kendal's order sounded weak and her eyes were glued to the black lace bra that had come into view when the fourth button popped open.

The shirt dropped to the floor behind Piper and she moved to the buttons of her jeans. "See, the way I see it, and have experienced in the past, is you big take charge types look at petite blonde women and you have an uncontrollable urge to do our thinking for us."

"Big take charge types?"

"It's some sort of conqueror complex. I'm sure there are books on the subject. You run around with your sword and swagger and think the rest of us are here to bow and scrape." The shapely hips wiggled to get the jeans to slide down her legs. When they hit Piper's ankles the only moving Kendal wanted to do was to run and put the do not disturb sign on the door. A black set of bikinis that matched the bra was doing funny things to her blinking reflex.

"I do not think I expect people to bow and scrape." A small hand moved to the clasp at the back of the bra jutting Piper's breasts out quite nicely. Drooling is not an option here, Asra, Kendal warned her body.

"Yes you do. ‘Piper, go home and don't worry your pretty little empty head about me'," she lowered her voice to sound more like Kendal. "'Only I get to decide when and where we'll spend time together,'" she had to stop and cough from trying to sound gravely getting Kendal to laugh. Kendal took a step forward when the bra came loose and slid down Piper's arms. "Don't even think about it."

"You get naked over there and you expect me to just stand here?"

"I'm not naked," Piper put her fingers at the sides of her underwear and pulled down. "Now I'm naked." Her fists moved back to her hips. "Still want me to leave?"

"No."

"Want to get in the shower with me?"

"Yes." Kendal couldn't help it, the gorgeous body on display before her had reduced her to one word answers. To remedy the situation, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "But I thought you just said you didn't want to get in the shower with me."

"I don't, I want you to get in the shower with me. There's a difference." Piper closed the gap between them and pulled Kendal's shirt off leaving her in a pair of plain white briefs. "How can you be so perfect?" Piper asked looking at the very unplain woman wearing extraordinarily plain underwear.

"Cigar smoking," answered Kendal. She walked over the pile of clothes they had made and scooped Piper off her feet. As they moved to the bathroom Piper pulled the tie out of the black shining hair wanting nothing holding Kendal back.

They stood under the spray just enjoying the feel of each other's skin. With time to think Kendal was able to control her urges to ravish Piper and give her what she thought the smaller woman wanted. This would have nothing to do with sex. It was more about giving reassurance and someone for Piper to cling to. Mac and Molly had given her everything within their power to give, but even their love had not been enough of a balm to heal the scars life had inflicted.

In Kendal she had found someone with whom, perhaps for the first time, she could let her defenses down and fear no ridicule for who she was. As physically different as they were inside they were two of a kind. People who projected what the world found acceptable but their true self was something almost no one was privileged to see.

Kendal ran her fingers through Piper's hair to get it wet. She hated to use the hotel's shampoos since Piper smelled so good just as she was. When she was done Kendal stood still and watched as the gentle hands washed away all the evidence of her injuries.

"You know what's funny?" asked Piper.

"Not me I hope."

"Not you. It's just that with people like Kenny anything like this would've made my skin crawl. Personal closeness has never been one of my things." The warm skin under her fingertips was like silk over iron bands of muscle.

"In your defense, I think Kenny would make any normal person's skin crawl." Kendal quickly pressed her lips to Piper's to show she wasn't poking fun. "If I tell you something do you promise not to hold it against me?"

"More than I have already you mean?"

"There was only one reason I did what I did for you and Mac, and there is one thing you owe me because of it."

Piper pulled away from her and started out of the shower. "God, I'm such an idiot. Of course there's a price. Why would I think you would be any different?"

It had been a gift freely given but Piper owed it to her to stay and hear why she'd given it. It was the only thing Kendal felt she owed her. She wrapped her hand around Piper's bicep and kept her from leaving. "I did what I did for you. Unless you try and sink Dupont there will never come another day when you feel like you have to do what you did to keep what's yours. I never want any animal like Kenny to put his hands on you, unless you ask it of your own free will."

The hand on her arm dropped away giving Piper the freedom to go. "What do I owe you in return?"

"That you take the freedom I've given you and enjoy it. Live to be happy and strive to be whole, and your debt with me is paid."

Piper turned around feeling chilled now that she'd stepped out of the warm spray. "That's all?"

"That's all. The price is steeper than you think. Living a full life is more difficult than people imagine."

Kendal's skin felt warmer than the water as Piper moved closer. "How hard can it be when you've given so freely all I'll ever need?"

"Money won't ever bring you happiness, sweetheart, don't you read all those Hallmark cards? Completeness comes from within yourself." Kendal tapped a finger over Piper's heart. What she was repeating was a lesson she had received from a man living in the streets of Nepal. He owned only what he carried, but in his mind he was the wealthiest person Kendal had ever met, because he had reached an understanding of who he was and what fulfillment required. His wealth came in learning and sharing, both of which required no coin in his pocket.

"It's that easy huh?"

"Your family's company is important to you, and you've become important to me, so yes, it's that easy." Kendal reached behind her and turned off the water. "There is just one other thing."

This time Piper felt no urge to leave and she pressed herself to Kendal's back. "Whatever you want."

"Don't ever share yourself with someone who makes your skin crawl. Save that gift for the one who holds your heart, or at least stirs your passion.

The sound of water draining lulled Piper for a moment as she thought of Kendal's request. "Who are you really?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because you don't talk like someone who runs the type of business you do. It's like you're a warrior poet," she laughed at the romantic notion.

"Call it life experience." Kendal held a towel up for Piper before drying herself off. From the shower stall Piper watched wishing she were as comfortable with her own nakedness. One of the hotel robes covered her view when Kendal was done. "I'll leave you alone to finish up." The door closed softly and Piper looked down to the towel hanging loosely in her fingers covering her front.

Her clothes were neatly folded and sitting on the bed when she stepped out of the bathroom wearing the other guest robe. Kendal was sitting next to them with her hand up in invitation. "Time for you to go, and time for me to get back to my battles."

"Not yet. You need to rest."

"If I were tired it would be my first priority, but my internal clock works differently than most." Kendal held up the delicate panties on the end of one finger.

"Lie with me for an hour then you can ask me to go." As encouragement Piper opened her robe and took Kendal's hand. The long body fell back to the bed covered by Piper's. They got under the covers and Piper pulled Kendal's tie open as well. "Close your eyes and hold me." She pressed a kiss to Kendal's chin, then to her lips. There was a part of her that prayed Kendal would take over and touch her.

All Kendal did was return the kiss then complied with Piper's wish to be held. "Close your eyes and sleep. I promise to keep you safe."

"Don't you want me?" asked Piper in a small voice.

"Remember what I asked of you? This is about you and what you want and need. Just close your eyes and sleep. I know you're tired, so maybe it's not the best time to be making life altering decisions about anything."

After a few moments, Kendal began to speak again. Piper didn't understand the language but she focused on Kendal's voice. The inflection of the words was soft but the dialect was somewhat harsh. It was a poem written by a warrior who served one of the Chinese emperors to the woman he left behind when he was called to war. Within her womb grew his son, the testament to their love and his existence in this world. His wife finished the verses for him when the boy grew to be a man and followed his father's path into battle. The warrior never knew the boy and entered the afterlife at the end of an enemy's sword, but his last thought was of his wife. In her face in his mind's eye, he found salvation and a way to push away the pain. His killer died years later, still wondering why the man faced death with a smile on his face.

"Because he knew love," whispered Kendal to the slumbering woman in her arms. "It is what gives our blades courage." She kissed Piper's temple and closed her eyes trying to memorize the feel of her.

When Piper rolled over and opened her eyes, she knew she was alone. The bed felt twice as empty with Kendal's missing heat. On the pillow was a single yellow daffodil with a note under it.

These have always reminded me of sunshine from the first time I saw them. The woman I bought it for though, reminds me of the beauty in all things. Take the flower as a way of remembering all the sunrises you have left to enjoy and how beautiful you will make the days by simply walking through them. Stay safe. Kendal.

She refused to accept it as a goodbye. Even if it took her the rest of her life, Piper would find Kendal again. "I have a gift to give you as well, warrior poet." She spoke the words to the card in her hand. Piper knew now it was written by the one who held her heart and could awaken her passions. There would never be a moment of hesitation between them again.

*  *  *

The front door was unlocked as if the owners were expecting them for a cordial visit. Kendal stood in the foyer and listened for any human guardians in the house left to watch during the day. The silence was broken only by the tick tock of the grandfather clock in the long entry hallway.

"If I were a blood sucker, where would I hide from the sun?" she asked Charlie.

He put down the human skull with a candle melted into the top he had found on the desk in the middle of the study. It must have been someone either Jacques or Ora had cared enough about to keep, or someone who had insulted them in some way. "If it were anywhere but New Orleans I'd guess the basement. Having one though is an invitation to an indoor swimming pool in an intense rainstorm."

"Let's take a look around and see how creative they've gotten." They walked through the ground floor. It was in the sunroom that Kendal found the first unique piece of furniture. "Cute," she said referring to the room they were standing in.

The long piece was wooden on the bottom and topped with a slab of thick granite. In any other location it could've been a buffet. It was the skulls carved in the wood that made her itch to remove the stone top. "Want to see what's behind door number one?" asked Charlie.

"I thought you'd never ask, Monty." They worked together to make it easy. With the sunlight streaming into the space they didn't get a close look inside before the vampire burst into flames. "Makes me wish we'd thought to bring marshmallows."

Charlie laughed leaning against the wood base. It didn't take very long for the flames to die away and leave a pile of ashes. "We didn't get a chance to say goodbye but I can tell you who the dirt pile was."

"Elvis?"

"Not unless he walked around with this under those shiny outfits," he lifted a sword from the ash. The snakehead marked the demise of Horatio. "And I don't think this guy could carry much of a tune."

"It would seem he is alone down here so let's move up."

They opened five more boxes before reaching the house's master bedroom. It was empty except for two sarcophagi in the center of the room. On top of the longer of the two sat a coiled King Cobra. His head came up when they entered but the only movement he made after that was to sway from side to side without showing his hood.

"I never did like snakes," said Kendal.

"It's not like it can kill you."

"Neither can polyester pants and I don't like them either." Kendal stepped closer and the snake grew more alert. "My brother always did have a sense for the dramatic." She threw a dagger hard enough to pin the lethal reptile to the back wall.

She held her hand out for Horatio's sword. With a downward motion she buried it in the wooden floor between the two boxes. From her coat she pulled a small memento to show who had come for a visit and the clue as to where to find her.

"Why not just lift the lids and be done with it?" asked Charlie.

"Because I gave him my word I would face him like a warrior. I also want to see his eyes when he knows he has reached the end of his life." She ran her hand over the stone full of hieroglyphics telling the story of Abez's life. Woven into the pictures was her name. "Now it's just you and I, brother. Tonight you will be made to pay for the life you have chosen and for the death of our father. On my sword I promise you."

Charlie listened to the ancient sounding language and wondered what Kendal had said. Whatever it was he had a feeling it meant bad things for the future of the man who slept under her fingertips. Only four hours were left to finish the saga started in Egypt so many years before. The night of reckoning was upon them.

*  *  *

"It seems we've had a visitor, my queen, and she's left us an invitation to call." Jacques held the camellia flower under his nose and spoke to the woman who had just emerged from the darkness.

"I sense she has left us to fend for ourselves."

"Don't worry about numbers. Horatio told me Asra has been given too much credit through legend as far as her fighting skills are concerned. She will find the two of us together to be an unbeatable force." He walked to the wall and ran his finger though the blood trail the cobra had made. A smile curled around his lips as he licked his finger clean.

"What of the man who fights with her?"

"Lionel?" he laughed. "A young fledging pretending to be something he's not. Come, Ora, I've never tasted the blood of an immortal."

They sat together on the porch of Oakgrove and watched the sunset over the far bank of the river. Kendal was smoking one of the cigars Piper had given her in silence, her mind blank. The reliving of memories was done. She had put them away and made peace with what had happened to Angelina and Tomas. As painful as ending her love's life had been, Kendal could only imagine Angelina's pain had she been left to exist as a vampire. So gentle a soul could never have accepted living off the torment of others for survival. By sacrificing her own happiness, Kendal was sure now after years of reflection she had given Angelina eternal peace.

"The time is upon us, Charlie. It won't be long before they arrive."

Her friend stood and held his arm out. They clasped arms before moving in for a friendly embrace. "For our women then, and my sons."

Kendal squeezed him one more time before letting go. "Celia and the boys are looking out for us I'm sure. Fight well and stay away from pointy objects, especially teeth," she told him with a small laugh.

"You just remember the same thing."

Before she turned to go inside Kendal wanted one more thing to be clear before reason got muffled in the heat of battle. "Promise me one more thing."

"Anything, you know that."

"No matter what, these two die tonight. I will make no more promises to let Abez go free. I want the same from you. I will sleep the sleep of the just, or suffer an eternity of torture gladly if I know he is dead. He and the bitch who made him."

Charlie nodded slowly. Could he choose between Kendal and her demon brother? "I promise to do what it takes, but I want your promise you'll fight like never before."

"She'll need to, dear Lionel, for tonight the foe is like no other." How he got there was a mystery to Kendal and Charlie but in the drive stood Jacques. In his hand was a very familiar object and it momentarily stunned Kendal. "Remember, sister, how many hours he held it in his hands trying to teach us the art of the sword?" Their father's sword rested in his hand.

"It hurts me that what meant so much to our father has ended up with you, Abez, but aside from my feelings there is no way it can hurt me."

"Who said anything about hurting you with it?" Jacques raised his free hand and motioned someone forward. From the darkness Ora emerged dragging someone with her. "Fight me, Asra, or I'll take her like I did the other. You made it so easy for me by leaving her scent on the flower you left."

Kendal could only watch as he grabbed Piper away from Ora and pressed her to his chest. The green eyes were swimming with fear and tears as if she sensed what kind of evil had taken her. "Be still, little one, I won't let anything happen to you."

Jacques ran his tongue up the side of Piper's neck and nipped the tender skin with his teeth. "My sister loves to make promises she can't keep. I though promise you'll be mine before the sun rises." Kendal's anger rose with Jacques' hand as he caressed Piper's body ending at her breast. "What I can't understand is why you don't bed them, Asra? What is it about these women that makes you want to wait?"

Breaking every rule of combat Kendal ran forward with her sword out wanting to bury it in any place she could reach. Sparks flew from the weapons when Jacques pushed Piper aside ready to fight. With a flick of his wrist he dislodged her sword giving him an opening to kick her in the gut. The move made her pitch forward giving him an even clearer shot at her head. Kendal spit out a mouth full of blood and rose to her knees to deflect any other blows Jacques sent her way.

She grabbed his foot as it headed toward her chest and threw him so he landed on his back. "It's not that easy. You have much to answer for, Abez, and I am here to collect."

"Then consider this my down payment," he laughed as he watched the long blade break through the front of Kendal's chest. Ora had moved against Charlie first slicing his hand almost off his arm before coming up behind Kendal. From behind all three, Piper screamed when she saw the deathblow. The sword had entered between Kendal's shoulder blades and exited out close to her heart. It was Charlie who kept her from running to Kendal's aid.

"Let me go, dammit. I can't lose her," she screamed as she beat on the man's back. A dark gush of blood ran down Kendal's chest and her head slumped forward.

"Lionel, keep her from seeing the rest. She doesn't deserve those nightmares to add to the ones that invade her sleep already," Kendal's voice came out soft and with difficulty but Charlie understood her French perfectly. He held Piper in his arms and started to walk away, but not before she witnessed the woman standing over Kendal withdraw the sword and plunge it in again with even more deadly intent. It was the last thing she remembered as Charlie pressed his fingers to the base of her neck and the world went black.

"I owe you an apology, Abez. I thought for so long I had chosen the weaker of your father's children. I see tonight that you are the smarter and stronger of the pair. Your sister shows the fight of a tame puppy." Ora withdrew the weapon a second time thinking that with the loss of blood Kendal would be ripe for the taking.

Jacques took the chance to drive his weapon through Kendal's body. "I wanted father's steel to taste your blood tonight, Asra. It's only fair after all since it was I who used him to quench my first thirst. Will your blood taste as sweet?"

"If you sit long enough by the river, you will see the bodies of your enemies float by," said Kendal to the woman behind her.

"Does the pain make you talk in riddles, Asra?" asked Ora.

"The pain clears my head actually for what needs to be done. Never claim victory until your enemy is dead, and the lifeless body is placed at your feet."

"What does that mean?"

"It means my body is neither lifeless nor dead, witch." Kendal struggled to her feet and raised her hand. Ora followed the katana's journey back to her hand from where Charlie had thrown it back to Kendal. A sais from her boot was already in her other hand deflecting a sword swipe from Jacques. Moving somehow helped to staunch the flow of blood and she felt some of her strength return.

Kendal stood in the middle of them both and met each attack with equal fervor. At this point she felt like she could hold them off all night. Using a column on the house as leverage, she kicked her feet upward and wrapped them around Jacques' head. A quick twist and he dropped his weapon when his neck snapped. Having him temporarily disabled let her concentrate on Ora.

"I would say you chose rather wisely after all, Ora, because I would never have been weak or stupid enough to fall for the fate my brother did."

"I can give you power, or I can give you pain, your choice."

"I pick peace of mind."

Ora laughed as her face contorted from its beautiful features to that of her inner monster. She bared her teeth and growled at the warrior of the Order. "Peace is something you will never have as long as I live."

"There in lies the rub, eh?" Kendal sped up her strokes surprised at how well Ora kept up.

"What?"

"As long as you live." The katana came straight at her and Ora had to turn her blade to deflect it from hitting her. With a crack that sounded like a shot the sword in the vampire's hand broke. "My choice is for you to die."

Kendal drove forward again and Ora met her with a leap to try and reach her throat. The roar of her howl died instantly when the blade split her heart and Ora exploded into a cloud of red dust, some of which burned as it fell to the ground, and the rest scattered to the wind. It was as if her remains tried to cling to whatever life was left to her.

"Let me go or I will kill her," said Jacques. He had an unconscious Piper pressed up against him and his teeth were so close to her throat there was nothing Kendal could do to stop him from tearing the flesh.

"I will not let you go tonight, Abez. This ends here and now."

"Have you learned nothing of who I am in all this time?" He exposed Piper's neck even more when he pulled back on her hair. "I do not grow attached to these frail human creatures as you do, Asra. Their only job is to worship me."

"Let her go and face me like you asked of me."

"You will not kill me because your love for this girl is stronger than your hatred of me. I'm still your brother, if I let her go can you bring yourself to kill me? What would father say if he were here?"

"Considering the type of man he was he would tell me there is redemption in every man and you deserve my letting you go." Kendal dropped first the short blade and then the katana at her feet. "I cannot kill you, Abez."

"Fool, I'll take her and bury you for your weakness." He moved to bite Piper's neck when her words stopped him.

"I didn't say I thought you should live though, brother. There is another who deserves the kill more than I and it will be he who claims the prize." The recognition in his eyes came to late. He had forgotten the one who he had dismissed as unimportant. The man he had laughed at when he carried his family from their homes. "My only wish was to see your eyes for the last time as you face all the innocents you have killed in your life. May they have more mercy on you than you ever thought of showing them."

When she was done Charlie finished the job and stabbed all the way through Jacques' heart. In a black cloud of smoke that the wind dispersed, Abez was no more. From inside the house Kendal heard the clock strike twelve. It was the anniversary of Angelina and Lionel's family's deaths. Wherever they were they rested a little easier knowing that their deaths had been avenged.

Piper moaned as she started to become more alert. She felt someone cradle her in their arms and she quieted when her heart recognized who it was. "Sleep now, little one, you are safe." Fingers pressed to her neck and she entered a dream where Kendal was waiting for her with a smile on her face and a daffodil in her hand.

*  *  *

"No!" screamed Piper as she sat straight up in the bed. The blinds were open and it took her a minute to figure out she was in her own bed, safe from any danger. Her shoes were placed neatly by the bed but she still had on the clothes from the night before. Despite feeling well rested from the dreamless sleep she'd obviously enjoyed, Piper had an urge to cry.

"Hey, you're awake," said Hill from the doorway. She had a cup of coffee in one hand for Piper and a folded section of the paper in the other. "I was just coming to roust you. Want something for breakfast?"

"Why are you here?" Piper rubbed her face trying to focus on why her heart was racing.

Hill took a seat in the chair Piper had sitting by the window and stretched her legs out. "I kept calling and you didn't answer so I came over to see if you were all right. You know, Piper, this is a gated community and all but you really shouldn't leave your door unlocked if you sleep like the dead."

She had no memory of the previous night. All that Piper remembered was coming home after she got dressed and left Kendal's room. Why can't I remember? It wasn't like she had gone out drinking or taken anything that would've fogged her head. "I must've been out for the night."

"You sure you're ok? You look a little out of it." Hill moved to the bed and sat on the edge. Her fingers came away wet when she touched Piper's cheek.

"I'm fine, just still tired I guess." She reached for the cup Hill had placed on the nightstand. It fell numbly from her hand when she looked at the small glass sitting next to it. Someone had put the daffodil Kendal had given her in water and left it next to the bed for her to see.

Piper didn't hear Hill's voice as her vision tunneled to the bright yellow petals. The gift brought it all back. Like the opening of a floodgate Piper remembered that strange woman standing behind Kendal and running her through.

"Are you Piper Dupont?" The question came through the intercom from a voice she didn't recognize.

"Can I help you?" Piper looked through the peephole to see who had gotten through the security gate without being announced.

"I have news of your friend Kendal Mackey. Can I come in and talk to you?"

He kept his head bowed, his fingers looked long and pale as they rested on the button of the intercom device. Piper was about to unlock the door when she remembered what Kendal had told her about letting anyone in. "Can you tell me from out here? I'm not dressed to answer the door."

"Miss Dupont, your friend is in trouble and needs you. But I'll understand if you don't want to help. I'm sure she'll understand as well that you want no involvement." The hand dropped away and the man turned to go.

"Wait!" Piper opened the door and stood just inside it. "Please don't go."

"You must invite me in, Miss Dupont."

She had and found herself at Oakgrove in time to see Kendal's murder. Charlie had kept her safe and Piper was now convinced that Kendal had sacrificed her life to save her.

"Piper, come on you're scaring me."

"We have to go." Piper fought with the blankets and Hill to get off the bed. "We have to go now."

"Ok, honey, we'll go. You just need to tell me where and I'll take you."

"Kendal…Kendal needs me." She got frustrated with being trapped on the bed and her tears were making it harder to escape. "Oh God, Hill, I think she's dead. There was so much blood, so much."

"Piper, you have to calm down and breathe. Why was there so much blood? Whose was it?"

"It was Kendal's. This man came here and this woman stabbed her."

"You aren't making a whole lot of sense, Piper. I'm sure Kendal's fine. You just had a bad dream." Hill helped her out of the bed and on with her shoes, sure that only seeing Kendal would solve whatever was wrong with her friend.

The blonde was despondent on the drive out of the city and no amount of talking on Hill's part was getting her to snap out of her stupor. It was hard to tell how they would be received at the house, but Hill pressed the buzzer with hopes of finding Kendal in a good mood. The gate opened without anyone coming over the intercom to ask who they were.

It was Charlie who stood on the porch to await their arrival and to Hill he looked different somehow. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders making him appear more relaxed. "Welcome back, ladies."

"Can we bother you to get Kendal for us? Piper really needs to see her," said Hill as she helped Piper from the car.

"He can't," whispered Piper. "I'm right, aren't I?"

He nodded and tried to offer a warm smile. Kendal had left that morning and Charlie knew it would be decades before she walked these grounds again if ever. Oakgrove had been her refuge for only a short period before it became the harbor for Kendal's greatest pain. Coming back had only proven that the suffering had not ended.

Kendal had spent more time with Angelina, but Charlie had a feeling that Piper had reached deeper inside in the few weeks they'd known each other. His old master had fallen in love and once again, Abez had stolen the beauty of it from her. He didn't agree, but he understood her decision to walk away. Piper's life with her could only bring heartache and Kendal couldn't do that to her.

"She's gone, Miss Dupont, I'm sorry."

"Where is she?" demanded Hill.

"If you need any questions answered pertaining to any business dealings, Bruce Babagge will be available to help you. That's all I can tell you, I'm sorry."

Piper leaned against the car and felt like she would die from the pain in her chest. "She gave me her word. She promised me."

Charlie couldn't stand to see her suffer. He could only imagine it was like what he had felt at the loss of his family. "You were her main concern, Miss Dupont. She told me how special you were to her and how much she came to care about you. Perhaps you can use that as a stepping stone to find someone who can give you what Kendal could not."

Dead looking green eyes stared up at him. "There will be no one else."

"You're young, Miss, don't give up so easily," said Charlie with a hand on her shoulder.

A slight smile tried to crack the corners of Piper's lips but she wasn't quite successful. "I have a feeling you know all too well what I'm going through, that you know what I'm saying is the truth. As much as I fought it and didn't want to like her, I ended up falling in love with her."

"You are wise for one so young. Be well, Miss Dupont, and feel free to visit here as often as you like. You'll always be welcomed at Oakgrove." She nodded and turned to head back to the car door. "If only there were a magic wizard to lift your spirits," said Charlie as he closed her in.

"What an odd thing to say," said Hill starting the car. She didn't expect an answer form Piper and she got none.

The clue hit Piper like a blow late that night. She moved silently and passed a sleeping Hill on her sofa and headed to her car. The bartender at Oz just continued to wipe her hands on the bar towel and stared at her. Not bothering with introductions she led her to the stairs and guided Piper to the office door.

"Have a seat and Lenore will be with you shortly. Do you want anything to drink?" asked Kim.

"What are all these books?" Piper stood at the railing and looked out at all the shelves.

"They are our true history, child, and the tales of our greatest heroes and warriors." Lenore held out her hand and waited for Piper to take it. "I'm Lenore and this collection is mine."

"It's a rather odd spot to keep them but you have quite an extensive collection." Piper didn't really notice that the woman had yet to let go of her hand she was so focused on her eyes. What were the odds of Kendal, Charlie, and these two women sharing the same shade of startling blue?

"So I've heard, and from you're presence I can tell Charlie has guided you here. What can I do for you?"

"I want to know what happened to Kendal."

"Are you sure? Kendal's story is a long one." Lenore guided her to a set of comfortable reading chairs and poured her a cup of tea.

"What can I tell you to make you believe how much I care about her? If she's hurt or needs me I want to go to her, and if she's dead, I'll have something to look forward to when I die."

"Piper, can I call you Piper?" The blonde nodded. "I have known Kendal for a very long time and I know she would want you to choose happiness, even if it meant you would find it with someone else, someone like your friend Hill. She tries to hide it but she loves you a great deal."

"If our heads chose our loves for us the world would make more sense I guess, but they don't. Our hearts are what make our choices and we have no other course than to follow. Kendal is the last person my head would've picked but my heart cannot live without her."

"You sound like a poet, child. I asked Kendal once what she most feared. Her answer was not one thing but three. She told me she feared vampires, mummies and the Holy Ghost. Can you guess why?"

"She's a Buffet fan?"

"She is that, but her answer came before the song. Vampires because they are a major reason Kendal has lived for so long, and mummies because the process of making them is enough to turn even the strongest stomach."

"Why the Holy Ghost?"

"I would've thought because of what man does to his fellow man in the name of religion but she had a different reason. To believe in the concept of a guiding spirit who helps you in all things, especially our darkest hour is to believe in love. Love I think is what she feared the most, because she thought it was the one wonder she could never allow herself to experience fully."

Piper leaned into the cushions and wanted to scream. "But I loved her. Didn't she realize?"

"I believe she did," Lenore rose from her seat and pulled Piper up to show her something. "Piper, I need you to dig inside yourself and find the small child you once were, the one who believed in fairytales." Piper looked at he book lying on the table entitled ‘Asra.' "It will take me awhile but I'd like to tell you a story." She flipped it open to the first page and there was a sketch of Kendal dressed as an Egyptian soldier. "Born two decades before the Christ child, Asra came into the world destined to serve the Pharaoh Ramses and then the Order," started Lenore.

She flipped the pages of the great book as she told Kendal's story. Who she was to the world in every lifetime and all the demons and monsters she had fought along the way were part of Lenore's tale. For every identity Kendal had taken there was a detailed illustration to help Piper fill in the pictures in her head. Page after page was full of stories and pictures of the same beautiful eyes and flirtatious smile dressed in the garb of a warrior.

After a week Lenore's voice stopped getting Piper to open her eyes. As long as she had sat in the Elder's library she hadn't gotten tired of listening to the melodious voice weaving a tale of fantasy to make her feel better. They had given Piper a place to sleep and took care of all her needs as Asra's story unfolded for a new listener. The way Lenore told it made her want to believe but the rational part of Piper's head dismissed it all as fiction. To hear total silence was surprise.

"Well?" asked Lenore.

"I want to thank you for your hospitality and kindness, Lenore. Listening to you almost made me forget the pain of losing her."

"You don't believe me then?"

"It's a wonderful story, but no. As much as I want it to be true, I know better."

"Why not allow yourself the pleasure of believing a little bit? What would be the harm?"

Piper smiled at the storyteller and shook her head. "Because I have to hang on to what sanity I have left. Thinking of that sword slicing through her chest will be enough to make me crazy. My grandparents don't deserve having me go off into a make believe world of vampires and immortals."

"Then we have misjudged you," said a voice from the shadows. The sun had just set and Lenore and Piper were bathed in the soft light of reading lamps and candles. "Asra deserves a woman who believes in the totality of who she is, but more importantly, who she's been."

"Who are you? Show yourself," said Piper.

"She's no threat, Piper, be still." To the shelves Lenore shot a frown. "Would you like to come out or have you developed a case of shyness after all these years?"

The beautiful blonde stepped forward and Piper recognized her from the first pages of the book. "We have fought the Elders for naught, Lenore."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Indigo. She's defeated two of her greatest enemies and I have faith love will be her reward." Lenore put her hand on Piper's forearm. "Piper, this is the Elder Indigo, she's Asra's watcher and teacher."

"Look, ladies, this has been fun, but we've got to face the fact Kendal's gone," said Piper standing up.

"If you walk out she will be dead to you," Indigo shot back. "The meaning of immortality is that you never die, Miss Dupont. Not ever. Leave and we will never acknowledge you again and Kendal's memory will be all you have left."

"Where is she then?"

Indigo handed her an airline ticket to Italy. "We leave in the morning, but with or without you I'm going to see her."

"She's alive?" Piper sounded almost afraid to ask.

"As much as the characters in Lenore's book."

After a lot of apologies and explanations to her family, Piper met Indigo at the airport the next morning. She still didn't believe she'd find Kendal, but her soul couldn't take the chance of not trying.

She looked at her traveling companion when they reached cruising altitude. "Were you lovers?"

"Should I lie?"

"I'm not that fragile."

"Yes, but I'm thinking I should've paid better attention that last time."

Piper swallowed hard wishing she'd let Indigo lie. "Why, you found someone better?"

The laugh came close to sparking Piper's anger. "There is no one better, I just think the last time was just that — the last time. Asra will never have room in her heart for another, which means she will never have need of another in her bed."

It was the only words they exchanged until the plane started its decent. Had Lenore been there to ask what she feared, Piper's answer would have been "disappointment." If Kendal weren't on the other end of this trek, life would always be empty, lonely and full of disappointment. Was that a life she wanted?"

PART 5

"BONA SERA, KENDAL. What can I get for you this afternoon," said the waiter with his pad at the ready. She had been sitting in the Piazza St. Marco for a week, always at the same table and always from when the café opened. The liquor tab at the end of the night was helping him save the down payment on his new boat, but she never looked drunk when she walked off to the narrow streets of Venice.

"A bottle of beer and a plate of olives, Tony," she answered in perfect Italian.

"That sounds so Egyptian."

The velvety voice came from behind her but Kendal didn't turn around. The only reason for the visit was to deliver a pep talk, and she wasn't in the mood for it. "I felt like returning to my roots."

Indigo laughed and sat across from her. "Wouldn't that have that worked better by actually going back to Cairo?"

"It's not like I don't have more time than I know what to do with. That just might be the next place on my itinerary. Why are you here?"

"I came to thank you on behalf of the Order. What you did will save the lives of countless innocents." She put her hands over Kendal's and leaned over and kissed her. "And I've come to give you a reward."

"The best reward is to leave me alone. I did what I was trained to do so everyone can return to their lives. This is mine, leave me to it." Kendal pulled her hands back not ready to accept any type of comfort. She had gotten her revenge on behalf of her father, but lost Piper in the deal. It was to her a hollow victory.

"What of love, Asra?"

"What of it?" She took a sip of her cold beer and popped an olive into her mouth. If she didn't feel like crap, she would laugh out loud. "If you're serious, then I'll tell you what my thoughts on the matter are. It doesn't exist. It's a myth wrapped in flowers and pretty candy boxes. Whatever it is, it won't ever be mine so why worry about it at all."

"You've said often throughout the years to the women you've left behind that life is not worth living without feeling another heart beating next to yours that cares more about you than their own."

"I've tried it, Indigo, and I've come to regard love with the same feeling as being run through with a sword." A pale brow went up in question. "They each hurt like a bitch so I've sworn off both."

"What about Piper?"

"What about Piper?" Kendal repeated the question in anger. No matter how hard she had tried to forget the blonde, she was in every lover's face she saw in this romantic city. "I left her to find someone she could share a life with. If you want to reward me with something, watch over her and make sure she's ok because it's something I can't bring myself to do. I want her to be happy but I don't think I could stand to see her with someone else. "

"She deserves to know what happened, and to know you aren't dead. Don't you feel you owe her that much since she's in love with you?"

"Piper is in love with the idea of me. She'll find someone soon who can give her the things I cannot."

"But what if it's you she wants? Doesn't she have a say in what happens in her life?" Indigo reached for Kendal's chin and made her look into her eyes. "She's hurting, warrior mine, and only you can make that go away."

"Don't you think I know that? How badly do you think she'll be hurting forty or fifty years from now when she grows weaker and older by the day and I don't ever change? How badly do you think it hurts to know you will never get to keep the love of someone who completes everything in you because you're a freak of nature?" She drained the bottle and wiped at the tears in her eyes. "I don't want to put myself through that again. Call me a coward if you want, I don't care."

"What if you found someone you could walk the road of forever with? Would you take a chance then?"

Kendal smiled at her teacher. The original forbidden fruit she only got a little taste of every so often. "I believe she's off limits, or so you keep telling me."

She delivered a soft slap to Kendal's arm. "Would you be with me if you could?" Indigo kissed her again and pressed her palm to the warm face. "Could you love me as much as you do Piper?"

"I love you, and want more than anything not to hurt you." The blue eyes dropped to the tabletop.

"That is answer enough I guess, no need to elaborate. You love me, but you're in love with her."

Kendal thanked the waiter who put down two fresh bottles of beer and a loaf of bread. "I guess that age only makes us older but no wiser in some arenas. It's our luck though to have the luxury of time to help heal the aches of our heartbreaks. Especially when we drown them in such visual beauty." She raised her bottle to the sunset and toasted to Piper's happiness in her mind. "Be well, old friend."

Indigo watched her walk toward the northern part of town. She wasn't sure if Kendal was staying in the city or retreating to her old haunts with the setting of the sun, but from where she was heading it was out of Venice and into the hills. With a flick of her wrist one of Indigo's men took off behind her to see where Kendal ended up. She was sure of the final destination but she wanted confirmation.

Now it was time to deal with her other lovesick bookend. Once this was over the two would make a stunning pair, if only because they were able to wring out every emotion in each other. The reason their love burned so passionately was because they seemed to know instinctively what the other needed and what drove them. Frustration, anger within reason, jealousy and affection were always the best ingredients for love, in Indigo's opinion. Piper and Kendal had them all in spades.

"I hope I can get her to pick up another sword once this little girl gets her hooks into her," said Indigo softly as she opened the door of the suite she had gotten at the Lido.

"Did you find her?"

"Not yet, Miss Dupont. Tell me, are you always this impatient?"

Piper tucked her feet under her in the chair she was sitting in, which was a sure sign of trying to contain excitement. "Look, I want to believe all this mumbo jumbo you people have been feeding me, but I've been sitting here for hours looking at every freaking tourist who can afford one of those cute little hats ride by in a gondola until I'm about to go insane. I don't think it's too much to ask if you found her."

A knock at the door saved Indigo from having Piper see the size of her smile. Oh, Asra, may the gods bless you and keep you strong, you're going to desperately need it. A young man leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Indigo nodded and sent him on his way.

"Well?"

"Just some information about something else. Why don't you retire for the evening? Tomorrow we're heading out early for a hillside walk."

"I'm not here to sightsee, lady. I'm here to see Kendal." Piper stood up and ran her hands through her hair and pulling it when she got to the ends. "And when I find her, I'm seriously thinking of kicking her ass."

"Asra is the finest fighter in the Order," Indigo gently reminded her. "I don't think you have the skill to swat a fly off her much less kick her ass as you so poetically put it."

"She's also the big weenie who left without saying goodbye. I already told her what thinking for me did for my disposition." With her arms crossed over her chest Indigo looked at her and smiled. "What?"

"Listen to yourself, Miss Dupont. To talk like that you must believe that she still lives. It is that faith you will need to guide you through life if you choose to stay with Asra. I'm sorry, if you choose to stay with Kendal," she finished with a small bow of her head.

"I love her enough to believe in anything if it gets me back to her side."

"Your faith will be rewarded then."

Piper took a chance and walked close enough to Indigo to put her hands on the woman's shoulders. "You love her as well, don't you?"

"The difference between us, Miss Dupont, is that Asra has found her mate in you. How I feel is of no consequence."

"That didn't answer my question though."

Indigo turned and faced the window. "She is my pupil, to stay with her like that is forbidden to me." With as much of a neutral expression as she could muster, Indigo faced the green eyes and tried to hide her emotions. "Even if it were allowed, her heart would still seek you out. She loves you, Piper, and if you love her as much I will not mind losing gracefully." Indigo spread her hands out and shrugged her shoulders. "Good enough?"

"Yes and thank you for being honest. I promise, if I find her, I'll take good care of her."

"Then she will never want for anything."

*  *  *

"Are you ready?" asked Indigo the next morning. She looked at Piper and saw what it was Kendal found so attractive. The young woman was not only beautiful but had an aura about her that reminded you of life.

For her part Piper smoothed down the simple dress she had chosen to wear. It was cool outside but if there was a chance Kendal was out there to be found, she wanted to look nice. "Sure."

After a boat and taxi ride Indigo walked with her down a deserted country road. Ten minutes of walking and all Piper had seen were a few stray goats and an occasional lone bird on the hunt for a meal. The incline they were on was getting steeper and she was about to complain about her shoe selection when they crested the hill. It was the sudden and unexpected flash of yellow that made Piper's jaw click shut. They were extremely out of season, but the hillside was filled with daffodils, thousands of them.

"When Charlie told me what kind of flower she had given you, I knew instantly where to find her. If you want that chance you feel was stolen from you, keep walking. I will leave you to it unless you wish otherwise." Piper shook her head and opened and closed her fists trying to relax. Without another word Indigo headed away from her, leaving Piper to find her own answers.

Figuring that she'd found Kendal away from the path her life had been following for years, Piper decided to use that logic again. She walked straight into the flowers feeling faintly guilty about the ones she destroyed under her feet. After about fifty yards she stopped and pressed her hands to her mouth to suppress a sob. If it was a ghost her mind had conjured up, she didn't want to scare her away.

The sound made Kendal turn around. Seeing Piper standing there made her feel as weak as if someone had cut the muscles in her legs. "Piper?" It was a whisper into the wind but the blonde heard it and almost fell over.

"Are you real?" Piper held her hand up in midair. "Please be real." She watched as Kendal moved slowly forward. The same powerful body that she saw when she closed her eyes wrapped her in a hug and Piper's world righted itself. It was the warm safe cocoon she thought she'd never find again after that horrible night at Oakgrove.

"I don't know what you're doing here or how you found me, but I sure am happy to see you." Kendal took a deep breath and filled her senses with the scent that was uniquely Piper.

"Please don't talk," Piper's arms snaked around Kendal's midsection. "Just hold me." She listened to the steady beat in Kendal's chest, closing her eyes to the wonderful sound. Every beat of her heart was like a balm that eventually soothed the memory of the blood she had seen streaming out of the same chest. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I keep telling you I'm made of tougher stuff," Kendal tried to joke. She was surprised by a blow to her midsection when Piper pulled back. It didn't actually hurt, but it might work up to pain if she tried to interject any more humor the totally pissed woman in her arms wouldn't appreciate.

"Why in the hell I love you I don't know. You're made of tougher stuff? You asshole. Do you know what I've been going through? I thought you were dead, and it was killing me a little bit everyday thinking I'd never get to tell you how I feel."

"Piper, could I…"

"You can stand there and shut the hell up, is what you can do, I'm not finished. You promised me if you survived whatever you had to do, you'd come back to me." The tears were falling in earnest and as suddenly as the anger had come, it died away. "Why?"

"You may not understand, sweetheart, but I left to give you a chance at a normal life." Kendal moved a lock of blonde hair behind Piper's ear. The breeze had picked up and she was enjoying the way Piper's dress fluttered around her legs. "Even immortals make mistakes though, can you forgive me?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I love you, Piper. I fell in love with you that first day I saw you in the Palace Café when you had your hackles up and were ready to take me on."

"And you won't leave again or do my thinking for me anymore?"

"I will never leave you, and as for taming you, never. Your fire is your most beautiful quality." Kendal leaned in and hoped Piper wasn't still in a fighting mood. She wanted a break from biting creatures. When her kiss was retuned Kendal picked Piper up and cradled her in her arms. "And I will never waste a moment we are given." Piper did pull away when they started for a small villa further down the hill. The place looked ancient but it had an excellent view of the water much further below them.

"Try and not mess up too many flowers," she ordered Kendal.

"You like them?"

Piper pulled the leather tie from Kendal's hair and watched it blow free in the breeze. How many of the village girls who lived hundreds of years ago watched the same beautiful locks whenever Antonio DeCristo walked these hills? It had been one of her favorite chapters in Lenore's book.

"They're my new favorites."

Kendal turned them around to look at the riot of bright yellow. "I first encountered them when I lived here. Unlike some of the more sought after flowers like roses and orchids, these have a simplicity to them that make me happy."

The explanation warmed Piper's heart more than the sun shining down on them. "They are beautiful, but strange."

"How so?"

"It's fall, they shouldn't be blooming."

Kendal laughed and started walking again. "No, they shouldn't, but they have something in common with me."

"You didn't."

"I did and it was one of only two times the Order got upset with me, but look at them. Don't they look like they should live forever?" Piper noticed all the ones that Kendal and she had stepped on bounced back and turned their petals toward the sun. It was hard to believe how long they had bloomed.

"The idea is starting to grow on me."

*  *  *

The view from the bedroom window gave Piper an equally nice vista of the water and the indestructible hillside of flowers, but neither could compete with the sight before her. Kendal was standing there dressed only in her pants with a look of love in her eyes. Whatever power kept her alive had also wiped away any evidence of the recent battle. There were no scars on her chest or arms, just the bands of muscle Piper remembered.

"I wanted you to touch me that day in New Orleans," said Piper. She didn't move when Kendal stepped behind her and unzipped her dress. "Your hands felt so good."

"It wasn't for a lack of desire, believe me." Kendal kissed one shoulder before pushing the dress to the floor. "I was trying to be good. You did after all think I wanted you only for your body, and I try in all things to be noble of heart."

Piper turned around wearing a set of pale blue underwear looking just as sexy as Kendal remembered. With steady hands she unbuckled Kendal's pants and unfastened the buttons. "Let's hope you're not so noble minded now."

With the last of her resolve, Kendal took hold of Piper's hands as her fingers looped into her underwear. "Are you sure about this?"

"You told me to wait until it meant something to me. I have." She got Kendal completely naked. "I waited for you." On instinct she sucked in one nipple and took pleasure in hearing Kendal moan. "I love you, so it means something to me to show you." Piper went willingly when Kendal lifted her off the floor. "You stir my passions, but more importantly, you own my heart. And you will for the rest of time."

Kendal laid her on the large bed and hovered over her. The blue eyes were competing with the full lips for Piper's attentions but it was the hand that came to rest on her stomach that won out. She turned over a little so Kendal could unfasten her bra, feeling extremely wanted when it was stripped away from her body with a bit of impatience on Kendal's part as if she were tired of the barriers between them no matter how small. The panties came next and Piper took a deep breath to try and relax.

For the first time in her life, Piper wanted to give herself over completely and without reservation to the person above her. "I love you, Piper, like I have loved no other before you." Kendal rested her weight on one elbow so she could run her fingers along Piper's brows."

"More than Angelina?" It wasn't the time to ask such a thing, but Piper couldn't help herself. The question caused Kendal to roll off her, but she didn't move too far away to Piper's relief.

"I loved her, but you have to understand that was a different time. She loved Jacques St. Louis. Granted it was who I was then, but I will never know if she could have loved…"

"Asra."

"Yes, and I'm too old to play out fantasies in my head of what could have been. I'm being honest with you now though. You surprised me at first because you both look so much alike, but you are as different as night and day."

Piper pulled her closer by tugging on one of the big hands. "Is that a good thing?"

"I have no secrets from you, Piper, and still you keep coming back. So yes, it's a very good thing. It humbles me that you want me for who I am." Kendal bowed her head and kissed her loving the way Piper's hands moved over her back.

"I'd like very much to be coming now," teased Piper. She bit Kendal's bottom lip softly and pulled on it.

"And you made fun of me for corny lines." The pressure on Kendal's lip increased.

Piper finally let go liking the fact Kendal wanted to play with her. "I want you, Asra. I want you to make me yours."

The request won Piper a kiss as Kendal dragged her hand up her body at a slow, sensual and torturous pace. "We have plenty of time for whatever you wish, so stop me if you need to." Her lips felt soft against Piper's throat as she spoke the words. "I want you to always tell me what you want, but more importantly what you don't want. I love you too much not to give you what you need."

"Please, Kendal," begged Piper as Kendal's hand engulfed one of her breasts. "I need you."

Kendal kissed her as she slowly rubbed the hard nipple under her palm. The feel of Piper's nails along her scalp was driving her crazy but she wouldn't rush this. Piper deserved her full attention. She moved to replace her hand with her lips and from the second she sucked in the perky pink nipple, the head massage turned into a bit of hair pulling.

"Ung," Piper's verbal response was incoherent but the way her body was responding spoke volumes, especially when Kendal paid equal attention to the other breast. "Don't leave, you promised." Her eyes snapped open when she felt Kendal start to slide off.

"I'm not leaving, sweetheart. Relax and let me touch you." Her lips were close to Piper's as she spoke so she could pepper her words with kisses. Piper's skin felt like magic under her fingertips as Kendal caressed her way down its length.

When Kendal reached the soft blonde hair at the apex of her sex, Piper's legs opened wanting to feel more. "Please, Kendal," she said again. "I want you to."

Two fingers dipped into the abundance of slick wet heat. Kendal could feel the hard point of Piper's need and slid her fingers around it and squeezed. The move caused Piper's legs to close and trap her hand in place. Kendal moved her own leg between Piper's to keep them open. Up and down she rubbed and Piper ran her nails up her back in an effort to make her move faster.

"Inside, Kendal, I want you inside me."

Kendal looked down at her and thought how different her words were now than at their first meeting. Almost as if knowing what Kendal was thinking when she saw the arched brow she loved, Piper opened her legs wider and tugged on Kendal's hair. "What can I say, you grew on me."

"Then let me fill up the small piece of you that's still wanting." Kendal pushed her fingers into Piper with one slow thrust, enjoying the way the walls of Piper's sex pulsed around them in greeting. She didn't move for what seemed like an eternity to the blonde wanting to remember the moment.

It was Piper moving her hips to come up and meet her thumb to add to her enjoyment that got Kendal going. She wrapped one arm around Piper's back and started to meet the young woman's thrusts, liking the way their bodies fit together perfectly. For Piper,

Kendal's hands weren't about conquering or possession, but only about her pleasure. There was no awkwardness between them and no hesitancy in their touches.

Kendal took her time, only speeding up her hand when Piper screamed it was time. She kept her hand still as Piper's sex convulsed and squeezed out the last of her pleasure. In the heat of the moment their positions had reversed and now Piper was on top moving her hips freely, her hands on Kendal's shoulders, and her eyes closed tight. Never had anyone made her feel so much or made her make so much noise in bed, it was unbelievable she had lived this long feeling so little.

When the orgasm ripped through her and she was left panting, Piper collapsed on top of Kendal sure she would never experience this kind of bliss with anyone else ever again. Kendal had claimed her, but Piper knew she had equal ownership of her lover's heart. She just hoped the immortal would be this passionate when she was eighty because after one time, Piper was sure her lust for Kendal would never die. She loved her, but like she had told Hill, her body made her sweat. Now she could add quite a few more sentiments to that list.

"I love you, Piper," said Kendal as she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman to keep her warm in the night air. She maneuvered them under the blankets smiling at the look of contentment on Piper's face.

"What about you, love?"

"What about me?"

"I want to touch you too. It isn't fair not to return the favor," teased Piper, wanting to slap herself when she yawned.

"Sleep now, little one. The Elders keep telling me to believe in eternal life, and with you I hope they're right. With you it will take me until forever to show you how much I love you. Close your eyes and rest assured that there'll be plenty of time for all the things we'll do together."

"Promise me again," Piper asked before sleep claimed her.

"I will never leave you, love, and I will always be here to watch over you."

*  *  *

A month later Kendal knelt across from Piper in the field of flowers under a full moon. They had shared a bath in the house much like Indigo had done to her seasons before, and Piper watched with interest as she mixed the multitude of ingredients.

Up to then their days had been filled with exploring the countryside, the streets of Venice and each other. After they made love at night, Piper drifted off to sleep knowing Kendal was content to watch her until the sun washed across their bodies in the morning. Never had she had a lover who took such time and pleasure in what she wanted. It was why she'd asked, and why they were here. Her way of proving she loved Kendal was to never let her be lonely again.

"Are you sure? Once it's done, it can never be undone." Kendal looked across at her and smiled. She was done and the moment of decision was upon Piper.

"As sure as I am in my love for you."

Kendal handed her the chalice filled with the glowing liquid. "Then you will walk at my side for as long as the world exists. For two thousand years I've lived and learned all that I could. It's taken me only a very short time in comparison to learn the most valuable lesson."

"What's that, my love?"

"That I cannot, and do not want to live without you."

Piper held up the cup in toast and smiled before bringing it to her lips. It was like drinking a cool bolt of lighting and a sort of fire went through her. When the elixir had done its work Piper opened her eyes on a new world. Yet, for the first time since the elixir had been used it gave the recipient eternal life but failed to change Piper's eyes into ethereal blue.

Instead, Kendal looked at the legend Lenore had spoken of for years. The oldest of the Order had spoken of a woman who would one day join them in a future a long way off. It had come in a vision to one of the Elders gifted with the sight of a seerer. The woman he spoke of would drink the elixir of life but keep the one thing that would set her apart from the others like her, and show her lover who she had awoken.

This woman would become an Elder who would join their ranks with her green eyes and heart of a lion. Her place within the Order would be to join with the warrior and bring light into the darkness in the world, starting with her lover.

It was foretold by the oldest among their kind and so it would begin that night in a field of daffodils. Be it through the sword or through words, Piper would be Kendal's salvation and their love would know no end. The immortal knew she would never walk alone again.

Across the globe another immortal was given a new surge of power. A young female vampire saw the cloud of red dust in the air and laughed toward the heavens. Her prayers had been answered. With open arms she accepted Ora's spirit into her heart. The Queen of the Vampires would live on. When the unholy union had finished, the young woman opened her eyes and the first word out of her mouth was, "Asra."

The battle would begin again, but now Asra would be joined by the other half of her heart. That alone would make them invincible.

THE END

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Table of Contents

BELLE OF THE MIST

GUILT

VAMPIRES, MUMMIES and the HOLY GHOST

    PART 1

    PART 2

    PART 3

    PART 4

    PART 5