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Chapter Six
"So am I right in assuming we still don't have our man?" Simon questioned as Jim and Blair came to make their report in his office.
"Duvall is still on the loose, sir," Jim confirmed. "This is a sketch of Duvall Amanda made and I've run the name through the DMV and the INS."
Simon nodded at the pretty decent sketch. "Have copies made and pass them out discreetly around here. For all we know, the man could be stalking you. At least then we would have a charge. By the way, where is the lady responsible for this? I thought the three of you were stuck together like paper dolls."
"There's been a call meeting of their committee. They're starting to wonder if their plan needs rethinking. Duvall has killed two of them. He's more dangerous than they thought."
"Well, are they considering bringing whatever evidence they have to the police? We don't need vigilante groups running around out there, Jim, no matter who they may be protecting." Simon toyed with the cigar he couldn't light on city property. "Don't they realize we cops take protecting our own seriously?"
"I think in the beginning they were trying to protect their own, captain," Blair said, trying to understand the Immortals' mindset. "They considered Duvall a colleague who was merely misguided. Now he is the enemy and has to be destroyed."
"What the hell do you mean by destroyed, Sandburg?" Simon stared hard at the younger man, a man he'd never known to condone the loss of human life, not even capital punishment. "We can get the guy on two counts of murder and threats against a police officer. That should put him away until he's old and gray. Won't that satisfy your newfound thirst for blood?"
Blair looked at Jim with a quick apology. "I'm sorry, sir. Just got carried away for a moment."
"Uh huh," Simon said slowly, convinced more than ever that there was more to this case than met the eye. "Maybe it's all this swordplay that's got you clamoring for vengeance. But let me remind you, son, this is not a game or some drama presented by the Cascade Repertoire Company. Those two men aren't going to get up and walk away when the curtain comes down."
Jim felt sorry for Blair having to hear a lecture that he didn't deserve this time. "We both know this isn't a game, Simon, and we would really like to avoid any further deaths. The thought of people running around cutting each other's heads off is horrifying and sickening. We just want it to stop, sir. No matter what it takes."
Simon decided to ignore Jim's last statement. What he didn't hear, he couldn't be made to testify to. "So where were you when I called?"
"At Master Chin's."
"He's the guy who teaches sword fighting and other martial arts to kids, right?" His son Daryl had considered studying with him until ex-wife Joan pitched a fit. "You think maybe he knows this Duvall guy?"
"He knows Duvall. Chin is part of the group, Simon."
The captain took off his glasses and tried to pinch away the pain that was starting to pound between his eyes. "So you were there to interview him in that respect, right, Jim? Tell me you didn't pick up a sword while you were there or had thoughts about doing so." His detective remained silent. "You're not only the intended victim in this, Jim, you're a cop."
"I know who I am, Simon. Unfortunately, so does Duvall."
Well, so much for trying to stop the headache. "This is your case, Jim, and it's you and Sandburg who have your asses on the line. I know you can be stubborn, vengeful, and downright mean when you want to be. But I also know you're an honorable man and I trust you won't do anything that would ever make me doubt that. So go do whatever it is you have to do to get yourselves safely out of this mess. I'll cover you as much as I can."
"Thank you, sir. I won't betray that trust," Jim vowed solemnly.
"I know, Jim. Now, why don't you clear out and let me have a word or two with your partner here." He tried to sound lighthearted but if the glances his men exchanged were any indication, he'd failed miserably. "No one is in any trouble, I assure you."
"What's up, captain?" Blair asked nervously when they were alone.
"You tell me. I thought I told you to watch out for him."
"I'm doing the best I can, Simon. You don't know how crazy all this has gotten."
Simon searched his desk drawer for the bottle of aspirin he kept there. On one long boring afternoon, he had scratched out the brandname and scribbled Sandburg in its place. How appropriate. "This isn't just about some nut coming after the two of you, is it? Nah. Because that's not crazy. That's just the norm. So what is it? This Sentinel stuff? Jim's past covert activities?"
"Would you accept 'none of the above' as an answer?" Blair asked optimistically.
"Oh God," Simon moaned. "It's something new, isn't it? Tell me. No, I don't want to know. It has something to do with the swords, doesn't it? Some kind of ritual killing, am I right? This doesn't have to do with you, does it? You're the resident expert on rituals and tribal crap."
Blair got the captain some water and took the aspirin bottle out of his hand. He shook out two pills, made it three, then offered them to his friend. "Simon," he began, knowing the captain could be trusted. "Do you believe in immortality?"
*****
"He took it well." Jim rolled his eyes. "Well, well for Simon," Blair explained more fully as they took the elevator to the main floor of the police station. "There wasn't even a moment of disbelief. Just a rather stunned acceptance. I had to tell him, Jim. He knew we were hiding something from him and the not knowing was driving him crazy."
"I understand, Chief, and quite frankly, I think it was easier for him to hear it from you. You can make the weirdest things seem perfectly normal."
"Thanks, I think." Blair looked out the glass doors and saw the familiar pick-up. "I think I owe Amanda an apology, Jim. She looked like the perpetually late type to me, but here she is, right on time."
"And mad as hell," Jim added as his enhanced sight saw the anger on her face and his hearing caught some of her bitter mumbling. He walked up to the open passenger's window. "Bad meeting?" he asked carefully.
She shrugged. "We argued. I lost. Get in."
"You don't want me to drive, sweetheart?"
"Do I look incapable of driving? Do you see a scratch on your precious truck you didn't have before?"
Jim heard Blair snickering behind him and smacked his Guide on the back of the head as they got into the truck. "How about dinner? Martinique's is a nice place and we won't have to go to the loft and change," he said in hopes of appeasing her. Angry women made him nervous.
By the time they were seated and their orders were on the way, Amanda was back to her cheery self thanks to a very charming and smooth-talking Sentinel. Blair looked at Jim with pride. His Sentinel had come a long way in the few years he'd known him. He no longer met tension with tension. Instead of confronting Amanda, he had comforted her and tonight, he was the one who was telling the stories that caused their table to ring out with laughter. Whatever had ticked Amanda off was a dim memory by the time Jim paid the check and drove them home to the loft.
Unfortunately, there were two packages waiting in front of their door that made Amanda remember why she was so mad. "You have any idea of what these are?" Jim asked as he cautiously checked out the long boxes.
"Yeah. A reminder, a forcing of my hand, a way of telling me I can't back out," she replied, oddly sad.
Jim ushered her into the apartment. "You ready to talk about it?"
"No, but it seems I have no choice."
"It's a sword, Jim," Blair said as he opened the box with his name on it. "Master Chin sent it. I thought I made it clear I wasn't interested in this sort of thing. I get into enough trouble with my Swiss Army knife..." His voice trailed off as he opened the polished wood case and saw the shiny blade embedded in velvet. "Man, this is beautiful. Must be museum quality. I couldn't accept a gift like this, even if I were interested."
"You have to be interested, Chief," Amanda said softly. "It's a matter of life and death. Literally."
Blair paled. "What are you talking about, Amanda? This guy Duvall will be long gone before I even figure out which end of this thing I'm supposed to hold."
Amanda came to sit beside him on the sofa. "You remember how I told you I can recognize a fellow Immortal when I meet one? Well, there's a similar occurrence when I meet someone who will one day be an Immortal. See, you become an Immortal after your first death, but the trait is inside you from the day you are born."
Jim perched on the arm of the sofa, violating one of his house rules but not caring. "What are you saying, Amanda?"
She looked at them and tried to find the right words. It shouldn't be that difficult. After all, she had managed to tell them about herself without a huge display. Telling them this should be a snap. But it wasn't. What she had to say could either be considered a gift or a curse, and she wasn't sure what category they would put it into. "If something happened right now, guys-- something devastating-- I wouldn't be the only Immortal in the room."
Chapter Seven
Blair gasped and jumped to his feet, the sword and its case slamming to the floor. "I don't believe you! Tell her, Jim! Tell her she's lying!"
"Easy, Chief," Jim said, feeling as if he'd been kicked in the stomach himself. "You need to explain yourself, Amanda."
"We usually don't tell the pre-Immortals that we run into. We want them to live their natural lives, die when they are supposed to. I mean, you tell someone they're going to become immortal and the next thing you know they're out there trying to get themselves killed."
"Yeah, but aren't you putting them at a disadvantage? They could be using their mortal years training, learning how to fight," Jim contended. It would take that long or longer to convince Sandburg to chop off someone's head.
"Sometimes we take them on as apprentices and they never know until their time comes. But the committee felt this was an unusual circumstance and--"
"Stop it!" Blair yelled. "I'm not an Immortal and have no intention of becoming one. You said you were all orphans or something. I have a mother! Remember her, Jim? The pretty redheaded woman?"
Jim sighed. Oddly enough, this was starting to make sense. "I remember Naomi, Chief. I also remember she never told you who your father was. She's a free spirit, unfettered by lies and material things, right? Then why wouldn't she tell you about your father? Why wouldn't she tell your father about you?"
Blair raked his fingers through his hair, ripping out the band he'd used to tie it back at the station. "So what are you saying, Jim? That my mom just found me somewhere and decided to keep me? That Naomi Sandburg was never pregnant? Never gave birth to a bouncing baby me? This is too much, man. Too fucking much!"
Amanda was forgotten as Jim tried to calm his agitated partner. "Sandburg, stop it!" he said sharply and a startled Blair froze. "Now breathe, Chief. Deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay."
Blair obeyed but shook his head. "No, it's not, man. If what she says is true, my whole life has been a lie."
"Living here with me has been a lie?"
"No, Jim. That may be the only truth I have left." Blair shuddered, then regained control. "Whew! Sorry for coming apart like that."
"It's okay, Chief."
"I'm glad you're so understanding, Jim," Amanda said as she picked up the sword and caressed it.
He shrugged and gave a weak smile. "Hey, look at it this way, I don't have to worry about being a Blessed Protector anymore." The thought made him realize how things were about to change and he grew quiet.
"That's not what I meant, Jim. You see, Wu sent two swords for a reason."
Jim felt his knees weaken and sat down before he embarrassed himself. "Both of us?" he reiterated for clarity. She nodded. "This is going to take some getting used to," he murmured faintly. "Why, Amanda? Why did the committee decide we needed to know this?"
"Because of that damn prophecy! If it's true, then Duvall belongs to you and we have no right to interfere. Wu believes that why we haven't succeeded."
"And what do you think?"
"I've seen a lot in my time, heard quite a few predictions of what was to come, and it all seems pretty random to me. I don't see how this guy who walked the same earth as I, could know what would happen in a thousand years."
"The same earth as you?" Blair asked, her words filtering through the daze he'd fallen into. "Just how old are you? And I'm not in the mood for that 'never ask a woman her age' argument."
Tough room. "Dates weren't kept as well as they are now, so this is only an approximation. From what I can remember happening, I became an Immortal sometime between 850 and 853 A.D."
"Shit," Blair murmured. "I know you said you were immortal, but, damn, you're immortal. Tell me, are you one of the oldest of your kind?"
"No. The oldest surviving Immortal known is Methos. He's somewhere around five thousand years old."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Blair said and raced to the bathroom.
"I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to upset him."
Jim nodded, his hearing focused on the bathroom. Blair managed to keep the contents of his stomach but it sounded as if he had decided to hide out in the room for a while. Wonder if he needed any company? Hiding out seemed like a good idea. Too bad Jim Ellison, or whoever the hell he was, didn't believe in hiding. "How did you feel when you found out? You apparently 'died' when you were young and beautiful. Was it violent?"
She smiled and snuggled up beside him. "Thank you for the compliment, but back then I was quite old actually. Disease, bad diets, bad sanitary habits, and a lot of others things led to a very short expected lifespan. I fell prey to some plague or another and I woke up among a pile of dead bodies. I was frightened, excited, curious, and just relieved. I had no idea of how I had survived or what I was. Later, a beautiful woman found me. Her name was Rebecca and she told me who I was. She became my teacher, not just in sword fighting, but she taught me to read, told me about the world, made me into a lady. She was everything I wished I could be."
"Was?" he prompted, having heard the sadness in her voice.
"She was killed just a few years ago by one of her students who was in search of another stupid prophecy! They are dangerous things, Jim, and death always seems to follow them."
He kissed the top of the head tucked beneath his chin. "I'm sorry for your lost, sweetheart. But maybe all prophecies aren't bad, not if used properly. We can use this one to prepare for Duvall."
"But it's a lie, Jim," she pointed out. "The 'rule forever' part is okay, but what the hell does it mean when it says one of you possesses the wisdom of the ages and the other the power of the senses? Does that make any sense to you?"
"Yes, it does."
She sat up so she could look at him. "I'm not the only one with secrets, am I?"
Jim shook his head and called Blair back into the room. The two of them told Amanda about the Sentinel, the Guide, and the Shaman. This time it was Amanda who struggled to find the words. "Wow, I was right about you guys and rabbits, wasn't I?"
"I'm surprised in all your years you've never met a Sentinel/Guide pair," Blair commented.
Amanda smiled faintly. "Not exactly the kinds of civilizations I moved in, Chief. Primitive has never suited me." She yawned and looked at the clock. She had no idea it was so late or that the truth could be so exhausting. "I think I'm going to bed."
Jim nodded. "I'll be up in a minute. Blair and I need--"
She cut him off with a kiss. "I know. It'll take some getting used to, but soon it will be second nature to you both." She gave a Blair a kiss on the cheek. "You're the one who said we were twins, remember?"
"Remind me to keep my mouth shut," he replied, but his smile revealed he was getting a handle on his initial reaction.
"So," Jim said when he and Blair were alone on the sofa.
"So," Blair repeated. "We're Immortals."
"Future Immortals," Jim emphasized. "It may be years and years before we actually become them."
Blair thumped his friend's forehead. "Reality check, Jim. Care to recall how we spend most of our on and off time? How many hours, days, we spend in the hospital? Either of us making it to the millennium will be a major feat."
Jim chuckled. "When you're right, you're right, Chief. You know sometimes I've regretted repressing my sentinel skills all those years. I think of the lives I maybe could have saved, the risks that could have been minimalized. And I told myself I had to make up for that, you know, and if the time came when I felt like saying, 'forget being the Sentinel because I'm too old for this shit,' I would force myself to go on a little longer because that would be the repayment years. And now..."
"Now you'll be the Sentinel forever. You know tomorrow I'll be all over that idea, designing tests and studies based on a century of observation instead of months," Blair warned happily.
"A century later and you'll still be working on your dissertation?" Jim asked in cinematic horror. "That's one hell of an extension, buddy."
"There goes that odd sense of humor of yours. It's a good thing we got lots of time to work on that." He lay his head back against the sofa. "You know, Jim, it was a shock learning that I'm going to be immortal, but it didn't sound nearly as bad when I found out we'd be immortal together."
"Yeah, the thought of you running around without me was sort of terrifying."
"Scared I couldn't make it without you, huh?" Blair said, having had the same fear.
"Scared I couldn't make it without you."
Blair felt a shiver race along his spine. "Never would have happened, big guy. I've always had dreams of you and me here in the loft looking for my set of false teeth and you waving your cane in the air telling me if I'd kept them in my mouth, I'd know where they were." They laughed at the imagery.
"So you think you're going to be okay with this, Chief?"
"Yeah. But what about you? Once I got over the initial shock, I could maybe see Naomi finding and keeping me. Probably figured it was some psychic sign or she could have been so high on something, she couldn't remember whether I was hers or not." He couldn't fault Naomi for experimenting It was what teens had done in her day. "But you had a real family- a mom and a dad." He turned his head so he could watch his partner, see the reactions that flickered in his eyes.
"Just like with you, Chief, it sort of makes sense. I saw Mom pregnant with Steven so I know he's the old man's son. This competition he forced us into, maybe he was testing his natural son against the adopted one. Probably made him mad as hell every time I outdid Stevie." Jim sighed, seeing his past in a whole new light. "I don't want to get into this tonight, Chief. I'm not sure I'm in any condition to get into this."
"That's okay, Jim. Just know I'm willing to listen... when the conditions are right." He got up and stretched. "Last night I learned there were Immortals. Tonight I learned I will be an Immortal. Do I even dare think about tomorrow night?"
"One day at a time, Chief. That's how we'll make it through."
"No, Jim. We'll make it through because we're together."
"You're right, Chief. We will."
Chapter Eight
"At least one of us is prepared for this," Blair said to Amanda as they watched Master Chin and Jim practice in the ballroom.
"You didn't do too bad," she said to her temporary student. Since it had been established as a given that Jim would fight Duvall, Master Chin had concentrated on him and told Amanda to train Blair in the basics. "I've had worse students."
"And where are they now?" She looked away. "I figured as much. But don't worry. If Jim Ellison says I'm going to learn how to use this thing," he held up the sword mockingly, "then, by God, I'll learn how. The man does not take no for answer."
"Is it so wrong for him to care about you, to make sure you can defend yourself when he isn't around?"
"Stop being so damn reasonable," he said, mildly irritated.
"I think that's the first time I've ever been accused of that particular crime, Chief," Amanda said in amazement. "Forgive the slip. I don't know what came over me." But she knew. It was lying next to a very tense Jim all night, who asked questions about the bloodier aspects of being an Immortal and knowing the inquiries were so he could be prepared when his partner thought of the same questions. When nudged, he had admitted to his fears that Blair wouldn't be able to handle the killings and had asked about the parameters of Holy Ground, what constituted it and who were the mortals who had killed on it.
Blair sighed. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't sleep well last night."
"I know."
Blair was startled. "You do?" Then he nodded. "Jim."
"Does it drive you nuts knowing he can hear everything you do, sense how you feel?" Amanda asked, wondering how it felt to live with a Sentinel.
"It used to, but now I only notice when he doesn't know. Then I know something's wrong with him."
"So you use his monitoring of you to monitor him. I think I'm seeing a spark of that 'wisdom of the ages' you're supposed to possess, Chief," Amanda praised.
"Yeah, sure," he said uncomfortably. If there was a part of the prophecy he had problems with, that was it. Hell of a statement to live up to. Actually, it was one hell of a prophecy to maintain as well. Ruling forever... sounded tedious. Forever sounding tedious? Get a grip, Sandburg. Can we say, "in denial"? It's scary and exciting and mind-boggling, but tedious? Nah. Feeling a stupid grin trying to make it to his face, he concentrated on the fighters. "Sorta like dancing, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's beautiful when done well. But, quite frankly, Chief, I think you're going to be more in my league; forget the beauty and go for the win."
"Whatever it takes, huh? I'm down with that. Jim always fights with his fists. Me? I'll grab anything that I can get my hands on: a baseball bat, 2x4, frying pan. I'm not ashamed."
Amanda grinned. "You're going to make a fine Immortal, Chief."
"Yeah, but Jim will make a better one." He watched his partner and had a thought. "Hey, Jim, why don't you take a break and replenish your fluids." He held up a bottle of Jim's favorite water.
"What do you think?" Amanda asked Chin as she sauntered over to the master. "He definitely has talent."
"Yes, but..." Chin hedged.
"But what, Wu?" Amanda demanded. She had no intention of losing Jim to Duvall.
Chin watched his student chatting with his companion. "He has the skill to beat Coy but I do not know if he has it in his heart to administer the killing blow."
She frowned. "Jim's a warrior; he's killed before."
"But only to protect. When the battle is over, Duvall may be on his knees. Jim will not perceive him as a threat then. The detective has much honor."
"So do we," Amanda argued.
"Yes, but he does not embrace our way of honor yet. Mark my words, Amanda. He will hesitate before the coup de grace."
"But I won't," she vowed.
"No! You must not interfere. They have to make the decision for themselves or they will hesitate one time too many."
Amanda sucked on her lip in frustration. "Wonder if I could talk them into settling permanently on Holy Ground?"
"The world will be theirs, Amanda, and they will be called upon to protect it. They cannot do that from the shelter of Holy Ground."
"But when they rule, won't all of us be gone? Isn't that what we learned? 'There can be only one'?"
"Yet the prophecy says there will be at least two. And so far, the prophecy has not been wrong." Chin pointed to the proof, Sentinel and Guide.
Even from the other side of the ballroom, Amanda could feel the power of the bond her two friends shared. Maybe there was something to Duvall's prophecy. That power, combined with their own quickenings, could be enough to wipe out the game. "When I met Jim, I knew he would have an impact on my life. I mean, he understood me and he was destined to be an Immortal. I had fantasies of us meeting every once in a while, sharing something special. But I never imagined he would change my world, change the Immortal world, so completely. If this information gets out..."
"Duvall will be the least of their worries. Immortals will flock from all over to preserve what they feel is their right; to fight to the death for a chance to win the world. If they find out these men have the throne by default, they will band together to destroy them-- whether they are on Holy Ground or not."
"And then all hell will break loose, won't it?" she said softly.
"And the world will not be able to prevail against it."
*****
"How strong are you, Blair?" Chin asked as Jim showered and changed.
Blair shrugged. "I'll probably have to pump weights to --"
"No, not strong there," Chin said, pointing to Blair's arms, " but here." His hand hovered over his chest.
"What are you asking?" Blair challenged.
"Can you be strong for him when he needs you?"
"Who? Jim? What are getting at, Master Chin? You don't think Jim can take Duvall?" he asked. "Did you not notice how he read your every move in the second part of your practice? He could tell by your pulse rate when you were going to try something different. He could see the slightest tilt of your blade at the moment of your attack. Yet, you still think Duvall will defeat him."
"I think he will defeat himself unless you help him, unless you make him accept the truth."
"Which is?"
"To defeat an Immortal, you must take his head."
Blair heard Jim approaching with Amanda on his arm. "He knows, Master Chin."
"Does he?"
Blair blocked the conversation from his mind as he, Jim, and Amanda drove to police headquarters. They talked about mostly inconsequential things, Amanda apparently knowing a little about a lot and Blair almost matching her in trivia. The facts they had learned about each other last night and the trouble awaiting them in the future were conveniently tucked away as they played at being just a normal set of friends spending time together.
It was as the truck pulled into the parking garage at the station that Amanda tensed. "He's here," she said softly as Jim pulled into his regular spot. "Let me out, Chief."
Blair moved out of her way and watched her draw her sword as she crossed in front of the truck. "I know you're here, Duvall. You may as well show yourself."
Duvall emerged from the shadows, blade in hand. "Amanda, my dear. Don't tell me you've allied yourself with that dwindling group of protectors? I'm surprised."
"Why? You think I'm too addlebrained to be able to tell the difference between right and wrong? Because what you are attempting to do is wrong, Coy. Jim and Blair should not be your targets. Not now anyway. We do not attack what will be our young."
"If you believed in the prophecy you would know these two are the desecrators of what should be."
"Because two will rule instead of one?" Amanda shrugged nonchalantly. "You know I've heard it all my life, but I have yet to see it written in stone, Coy. Maybe it was just a rumor. But you yourself saw the prophecy. You translated it. You killed for it. You must know it is true and cannot be rewritten by you, or any other fool that follows your path."
"So what? Now you're saying you believe in the prophecy? You believe these two are the ones?"
"She believes because we told her it was so," Jim said as he joined Amanda, cradling his own sword.
"So you do not deny it?"
"We do not," Blair said as he joined them, reluctantly holding the hilt of his sword.
"And you know what you were meant to be?"
"Immortals? Yes," Jim stated. "Rulers of the world? If that is what's planned for us, we accept that too."
"What about my challenge? You accept that as well?"
"Name the time and the place."
Duvall laughed nervously. "So you can have your cop friends waiting around to put me in handcuffs and cart me off to some miserable prison? No, Det. Ellison. There will be no 10 to 20 year wait for me to kill you."
"I agree. No cops, Duvall. Just you and me." A couple of clearing voices made him continue. "And a few interested parties who will not interfere. You have my word."
"I've studied you, detective. You value your word so I will accept it. Ten o'clock tonight at the O'Brien marina."
"Ten o'clock, Duvall."
Duvall nodded and walked away before turning one last time. "And, Ellison, if I were you, I'd say goodbye to the people I loved."
"If I thought you had any, I'd say the same to you," Jim said dryly, then tilted his head. "Get out of here, Duvall. People are coming."
By the time a couple of uniforms exited the elevator, all swords were carefully stowed away and the only comment the officers made as they drove away was that Ellison and Sandburg always seemed to get the babes.
Chapter Nine
"Captain?"
Simon looked up from the paperwork on his desk and noticed Jim's arms were loaded with manila folders. "No more," he groaned, even as he signaled his friend to enter. "I'm already swamped, Jim. Please don't tell me you're bringing me more work."
"It's all completed, Simon. Every 't' crossed and every 'i' dotted . They just need your signature."
Simon flipped through the stack. "These are reports on all your recent cases, reports that I basically have to threaten you to finish. What's going on?"
"Just one of those days, sir. I just felt like clearing my desk."
"Oh, you did, did you?" Simon remarked, smelling something bad brewing. Jim usually did paperwork without pressure when he wanted time off to go somewhere with Sandburg, but there was no way Jim would think of leaving while this Immortal situation was occurring. However, the detective seemed to be preparing for something... Then he remembered glimpsing Jim on the third floor earlier in the day. He'd thought it strange because he hadn't even been sure the detective was coming in today because he'd given him and his partner carte blanche in the mess that was their lives. He'd thought it even stranger because there was nothing on the third floor Jim would need, except the department's legal staff. He got up and closed the blinds to the bullpen. "What the hell is going on, Jim? Clearing your desk, talking to lawyers... You planning on offing yourself?"
"No, sir."
Brown eyes surveyed him shrewdly. "Let me phrase it another way-- you planning on sacrificing yourself?"
Jim sat down, his shoulders drooping. "I hope like hell that won't happen, Simon. But if it does, I wanted to make it easier on the guys you pick to take on my cases. And I wanted to make sure Blair is taken care of, of course. I made him my legal heir years ago, but I checked to see if everything was up-to-date. You know we got that new insurance policy last year."
Simon had gotten pretty good at reading his favorite detective. "You're going up against Duvall, aren't you? Where and when? I can have men--"
"No, Simon," Jim protested softly, refusing to lie to his friend but determined to do things the way they had to be done. In his world, he would gladly let Simon provide back up. But tonight he would enter the Immortals' world and the rules were very different. "I am the only one who can stop Duvall. And if I can't, well at least Sandburg will be safe. A guide by himself won't be perceived as much of a threat."
"Why are you the only one, Jim? If these Immortals are so keen on killing each other, why are you the one taking on Duvall? Hell, they can only die by beheading, right? But you, my friend, can die from blood loss, which is usually what happens when you play with knives," Simon added bitterly. "Damn it, Jim! This is not your fight!"
"According to the prophecy--"
"To hell with some half-assed prophecy! Some shit about you and Sandburg ruling for..." Simon's eyes grew wide. "Oh, no you don't, detective. Don't sit in front of me and tell me you and that partner of yours are Immortals. I refuse to accept that."
"We aren't Immortals, Simon," Jim said and the captain gave a sigh of relief. As if these two weren't strange enough. "But we will be when we die."
"Get out," Simon said, raising his hands as if to ward off any more heebie-jeebie news from his officer. "Just get out now. I don't want you to witness your captain's mental collapse." He closed his eyes and when he opened them, Jim was still there. "Why, Jim? Why do you and Sandburg insist on telling me these things? I care about you. I swear I do. But there are things the two of you should keep personal, you know?"
Jim nodded, his jawbone growing more prominent. "I understand, sir. We won't bother you again."
Simon fumbled for the aspirin bottle. "Don't get mad, Jim. It's just that every other week or so, it seems you're coming in here and changing the world as I know it. I'm a cop. I'm supposed to be narrow-minded, hard-headed, and short-sighted. That's why I like my work. Every rule is written down and if someone wants to argue, I pull out the trusty rule book and cite page, paragraph and sentence. But you and Sandburg apparently aren't satisfied with the book. You keep rewriting the pages, putting addendums in the back. I just want the order I signed on for. Is that too much to ask?"
"No, Simon, it's not too much." Hell, he'd be asking for it himself if he wasn't smack dab in the middle of it. All he had wanted in his life was a job he respected, enough money to live on, and maybe somebody he could kick back with every now and then. He'd given up on family long ago, love involved trust and he was too familiar with betrayal to ever fully submerse himself in that emotion, and the people who had fame and fortune just didn't impress him. So he'd had everything he wanted and had gained more when Blair entered his life. But the 'more' had a cost and with every repayment, the 'more' seemed to increase. A vicious cycle he should have left Simon out of. "Take your time signing the reports. Sandburg and I are just about to head out to have dinner with Amanda." He stood and headed for the door.
"Jim, I--"
"It's alright, Simon. I understand. If I had a choice, it would probably be the same." The door closed softly behind him.
Simon Banks was a man used to making a decision and sticking to it. That was the only way a police captain could maintain his authority. Those who practiced self-doubt ended up being patrolmen all their lives, following someone else's orders and being shoved aside by the "big boys" when they came to play. But doubt ate away ate Simon as the evening passed. He hadn't been fair to Jim. He hadn't been the kind of friend he should have been. Jim and Sandburg needed someone on the outside who understood what they were going through and they had chosen him. He should have felt honored. Hell, he was honored. But he had cracked when they needed him to be strong. He was ashamed of himself. Which was why he found himself parked outside the loft waiting for them to come out of the building.
He hadn't tried to hide and tail them, knowing Jim would sense his presence immediately. So when the detective emerged with Sandburg and his lady friend in tow and looked at his car, Simon got out and waited for Jim to approach.
"What are you doing here, Simon?"
That was cordial. "I wanted to apologize."
"For what? Stating a truth? It's not necessary."
Simon really hated when Jim got that frigid, "I'm taking the high moral road," tone. He could be such a smug, arrogant bastard. "Listen, man, just accept the apology, okay? I was thrown for a loop and I reacted badly."
Jim sighed and looked at his watch. "Fine. I accept your apology, Simon. Now go home."
"Why? Because you're going to meet Duvall and you don't want me tagging along?"
"You're the one who said you didn't want to be involved."
Simon reached out and grabbed the detective's arm. "If you leave now with the intention of killing this man, it will be premeditated. Murder one, Jim."
Jim jerked free of Simon's grasp. "Don't quote the law to me, captain. One thing I am clear on is right and wrong."
"Then let me call for back up. Hell, let me be back up."
Jim wavered when he read the earnestness of Simon's plea in his eyes. But he had decided that if he went down for what he had to do, he would go down alone. Which meant keeping the captain angry and away. "Keep out of it, Simon. I don't need your kind of help. You call yourself my friend, then you tell me to keep my problems to myself. Hell, I can do that without friends."
"Can you keep your ass out of jail without friends?" Simon asked acridly.
"I guess I'm going to find out." He turned to walk away.
"Halt, right there, mister!" Simon ordered, before crumpling to the ground.
Jim stared at the woman holding the rock in her hand that had felled the captain. "What the hell are you doing, Amanda!" he cried as he kneeled beside Simon and checked his friend for damage.
"It's getting late, Jim," she said simply. "We'll put him in his car and he'll wake up in a few minutes, no worse for wear."
"Jeez, Amanda," Blair said as he watched Jim analyze Simon's condition and nod that he was going to be alright. "You could have really hurt him."
"Listen, Chief, I've been knocking men out for over a thousand years now. I know just where to hit for the effect I want. Now, get him in the car so we can meet Duvall."
Jim heard Blair mutter something about a bloodthirsty wench and couldn't agree more. Still, he had to admit, this was probably the only way he could have gotten away from Simon. The captain had been determined to save him from himself. "We're going to have to have a long talk when this is over, Amanda," he warned as he struggled with the captain's dead weight. When was the last time Simon had worked out? Getting sort of chunky in the middle.
"Jim, I hope like hell we do have a long talk after this is over," she said firmly as she urged both of them to the truck.
*****
"I see you are a man of his word," Duvall called as the three of them stepped into the light of the marina. Warehouses lined the area, the docks empty as there were no ships in port.
"In all things," Jim said as he hefted his sword."Chief, you and Amanda stay here at the truck. If I lose, get out of here." There was no reply. "Promise me, Chief."
Blair boosted himself to sit on the hood. "No. I won't promise you, Jim. So I suggest you better win."
"Amanda," he appealed.
"What, Jim? You want me to bash him over the head and drag him home? Probably be just easier to kill him right here, don't you think? Whether Duvall comes after him or not, he'll be an Immortal, Jim. You think he'll learn to fight if you're not around?" she pointed out viciously, remembering what Chin had told her. Jim had to have some kind of impetus to finish Duvall off in the end.
Jim shook his head in anger. "You know, for some reason today has become 'Pick On Jim Day' and I'm getting damn tired of it. I'm going to take care of Duvall then all of you, Simon included, are next."
"Promises, promises," Blair challenged. Master Chin said he had to be strong. For Jim's sake, he could be anything necessary.
With a growl, Jim turned to face Duvall. "Let's get this over with. I have pressing business afterward."
"Hope it's in hell because that's where you'll be."
"Fuck you."
Jim attacked and Duvall seemed startled by his skill. But he soon recovered and once again Blair was reminded of an elegantly choreographed dance. In a whisper that only Jim could hear, he reminded his partner to use his hearing and sight to anticipate his opponent's movements and soon Duvall was on the defensive, the battle surely almost over as a blow from Jim knocked the Immortal's sword from his hand. But Duvall scooped up a handful of gravel and threw it at Jim, blinding him.
"You unscrupulous son of a bitch!" Amanda yelled, sliding off the hood of the truck.
"Amanda, be still and shut up!" Blair hissed as Duvall reached his sword. "Jim, close your eyes," he ordered in the even tone that signaled he was in Guide mode. He clapped his hands once as a signal to his partner. "Hear the air, Jim, feel it part with every movement." He quieted as Jim parried a blow from Duvall that would have surely killed him.
The Sentinel remembered the lessons he'd been taught when he'd been blinded by the drug Golden and the hours of simulations in the lab where he'd learned he didn't need the handclaps to guide him, that his senses were capable of acting as sonar on their own. When Duvall moved, he moved, the clashing steel of their swords causing sparks that he didn't even try to see. He listened to Duvall's breathing change, knew when the man tired and waited for him to make a mistake.
Thrown off his game by a blinded opponent, Duvall decided to go for the kill in one long swoop of his blade. But Jim was ready for him and blocked, sliding his sword along Duvall's until it pierced the man's flesh directly above the heart. The Immortal dropped to his knees, his weapon clattering to the gravel and asphalt. The Sentinel heard the man's death rattle and knew the exact location of his opponent's neck. He drew back the sword... and hesitated.
In horror Blair saw Duvall's hand creep toward the fallen sword and knew what had to be done. "If you can't do this, Jim," he whispered into the night," how will I ever be able to?"
The blade did its work.
Chapter Ten
In a flash, Blair was by Jim's side, leading him to the truck and the light inside. "Open your eyes, Jim. I need to see--"
"What's that, Chief?" Jim asked, worriedly. "It's feels like an electric storm heading this way."
"It's a clear night," Blair said. "Amanda?" He looked around for the woman and saw her near Duvall's body, surrounded by a glowing cloud that seemed to extend from the other Immortal's remains. He shivered, finally feeling what Jim had sensed. Goosebumps prickled his skin.
Suddenly lightning crackled around the dock, streetlights shattering, windows blown out of the nearby warehouses, and the water in the bay steaming as if nature had caused it to boil. In the middle of this maelstrom stood Amanda, her sword held high as lightning danced on its tip. As quickly as the storm appeared it abated, leaving Amanda limp on the dock and the truck with a cracked windshield. All over the neighborhood both car and home security alarms frantically sounded.
Blair turned anxiously to his partner and found Jim had zoned. Shit. Between the light show and its electrical currents, the deafening alarms, and the pain from the gravel in his eyes, it was a wonder he was still breathing, Blair thought as he focused on bringing his partner back. The damn quickening gave sensory overload a new meaning. "Come on back, Jim. It's okay. It's safe here now."
"What's wrong with him?" Amanda asked breathlessly as she joined them.
Blair quickly looked her over. She looked no worse for wear. In fact she looked more energized. Which she probably was. "His senses were overwhelmed by Duvall's quickening."
"But he's a mortal. It shouldn't have affected him."
"He's also a Sentinel, Amanda," Blair explained, giving Jim's shoulder a rather forceful shake. "Come on, Jim. Snap out of it!"
Jim blinked rapidly, his eyes tearing. "I'm here, Chief. But this damn grit is getting to me. Can you do something?"
Blair reached beneath the truck's seat and pulled out a bottle of water. "Tilt your head back." The solution was messy but effective.
"Thanks, Chief," he said as his eyesight cleared. "Just in time; we're about to have company."
"The department?" Blair figured the alarms had sent them rolling. "How do you want to handle this, Jim?" He indicated the decapitated body with a tilt of his head.
"Let me," Amanda begged. "Please, Jim." He reluctantly nodded.
The two men listened as Amanda explained to the arriving uniforms how Jim had received an anonymous tip while they were out. He had left her and Blair in the truck with the cell phone a block back and walked up here to meet the informant. Then there had been a large explosion and the next thing they knew, all the lights in the area were out and alarms were going off. They tried the cell phone, but it too was knocked out and worried for Jim, they had driven to the dock and found him using the truck's lights. He'd been blinded by debris from the explosion, but his partner was administering first aid. They had also discovered (and this was whispered in horror) a body of a man without a head. No, she didn't think the detective had seen anything, but they could ask as soon as he was out of pain.
They backed up the story easily, Jim hesitating only for a second as he sensed Simon's arrival. But in the moment he took Duvall's head, he had decided that he would have no regrets for this or any other action he'd have to take as an Immortal. So he lied with authority, only feeling slightly guilty as Simon's reactions revealed that the captain believed every word.
*****
Simon reached around Jim and piled some more dishes in the sink. Behind him he could hear Sandburg and Amanda arguing good-naturedly over a CD and he saw from Jim's faint smile that his friend was enjoying the rare moment of domestic bliss. Come to think of it, so was he. Jim hadn't apologized for what had happened two nights ago, but he had invited him to a home-cooked meal. So what if the stubborn s.o.b. couldn't say the words... "Apology accepted, Jim," he said softly. "Mine?"
"Accepted as well, Simon. We were both reacting to not being in control. Shocking, isn't it?"
"Cops needing to be in control? You certainly have strange ideas, Jim," the captain replied with a booming chuckle.
Jim laughed too, then sobered. "I really do understand, Simon. You got more than you bargained for when you offered your friendship."
"Friendship shouldn't come with strings attached, Jim. I know that and I accept you and Sandburg as you are or what you become. Still doesn't mean I won't be ticked at you every so often. And I can threaten to kill you in several painful manners and you'll know I don't mean it-- unless I threaten to chop off your heads. Then maybe you should run."
Jim laughed. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Simon. Now, if you're really my friend, you'll go stop those two from bickering. Cosmic twins they call themselves. I'm starting to believe it."
A few seconds later, peace descended on the loft as Simon rejected both CDs and chose one of his own. A miffed Amanda stuck out her tongue and decided to join Jim in the kitchen. "That was mean of you, sending the captain in to mess up our fun," she said as she slid her arms around him as he finished the dishes.
"You're a fine one to talk, Amanda. Remember you hit the man on the head with a rock. I think he's entitled to choose a CD."
"Picky, picky," she groused, as she leaned into his back. "How much does he know?"
"Everything."
"Is that wise?"
"Simon can be trusted, Amanda. He knows all our secrets."
"Really?" she asked excitedly. Nipping his neck, she turned back toward the living room. "Captain Banks, we need to have a talk," she said as she approached.
Simon backed up suspiciously. The woman had assaulted him once; twice would make him the fool. "Talk about what?"
"Secrets, captain. Me about the secrets of Immortals so you can understand your friends better," Amanda said happily, linking her arm with Simon's and leading him to the balcony. "And you about the secrets of a certain Sentinel and Guide. Can you explain to me this fascination with redheads?"
"Well, I've given that a lot of thought and..."
Epilogue
Blair let himself into the loft and looked around for his partner. It had been his long day at the university so he hadn't seen his roommate since morning. Not that he had to see Jim every hour of the day or anything, it was just nice to come home and know someone cared how his day had gone.
"I'm on the balcony, Chief."
Ah, the good thing about living with a Sentinel was that you didn't have to look for him; he always found you. He threw his backpack in the corner and joined Jim outside. His partner was standing at the railing. "What you looking at, big guy?"
"The city. My city," he explained. "Funny how when I was growing up here, I couldn't wait to leave. Yet, when I decided it was time to settle down, I found myself right back here. Why, Chief? Heaven knows, it didn't have anything to do with fond childhood memories or being close to my family."
"Maybe it had to do with you being a Sentinel and this is your territory," Blair hypothesized.
Jim considered the idea and felt it had merit. "What happens when I have to leave it again? A public death will send us underground or eventually we'll have to leave before people get suspicious. Amanda explained all this but I don't think it really hit me until today." Just a few days ago Amanda had swept out of their lives just as quickly as she'd entered, with the promise of returning in the near future. However, they weren't sure what that meant; what was the near future to one who could live forever?
Blair, not fond of heights, settled into one of the lounge chairs and was pleased when Jim joined him. "You won't have to leave forever. Just a generation or two. In the meantime I figured we could go visit the Chopec. I could study them, maybe get a handle on this shaman gig, and you could have a chance to connect with yourself for more than just a week or two. We'll just think of it as an interim retirement."
"Of the Sentinel?"
Blair rolled his eyes, knowing Jim was just teasing. "Of the cop. No matter where you go, Jim, you'll still be the Sentinel. But being a cop requires an extensive background check. It'll take us a while to figure out how to work around that. Which means we better start a savings plan or something. You not able to work and me supporting us as an anthropology professor? Doesn't sound too promising, man."
"We'll be okay, Chief. I didn't use all of my backpay on the loft and I had a friend invest the remainder," Jim said.
"The words 'invest' and 'friend' don't belong in the same sentence, Jim," Blair warned. "What kind of investment?"
Jim shrugged and disappeared into the loft, coming back a minute later with two brown folders. "Let's see. Oh yeah, I remember now. She invested in a company she said had potential."
"Oh brother," Blair groaned.
"Something by the name of... Intel." Jim cracked up when he saw Blair's expression. "That was years ago. There's a whole list of things now."
"Maybe I should have a talk with your friend, as soon as I get some money to invest that is."
"Already done, Chief." He handed him the other folder. On the front it read, Blair Sandburg's Portfolio.
"What?" He flipped through it and screeched when he saw the bottom line. "Holy shit! Where did this come from?"
Jim grinned. "I had to do something with that rent money you insist on giving me every month."
"Jim, I..." This was more than just rent money. His partner had to have contributed some of his own. A lot of his own.
"Nothing to get speechless over, buddy. Just think of it as a pension plan for a job well done." He plucked the folder from his hand and tossed both on the table, ready to focus on more important matters. "So tell me about your day, Chief."
"Oh, wait until you hear what happened to..."
As the sun set, the Sentinel watched the colors play across the sky and listened to his Guide talk. Whether they had one more year or a thousand, he figured he would find no better way to end the day.
THE END
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