June 15th, 2003
Denton Valley, New York
Ramsey's Cabin
Travis had the front door open in under five seconds. I pushed past him and walked in first, silver knife drawn just in case, surveying the room. Obviously, the body had been removed, but the bloodstained carpet remained. Fingerprint powder was everywhere, and I noticed a few missing things. Perhaps they'd been taken into evidence.
I choked on the air, which wasn't much fresher than it had been when I discovered the body. It was rancid, and I heard Travis gag behind me as he stepped over the threshold.
While the Winchesters got their first look at the scene of the murder, Quill started looking around, doing his own thing. Poor Charlie. He definitely didn't sign up for this, but he was a good sport, lingering in the doorway, watching the street for any signs of trouble.
"Check the drawers of the coffee table," I told Connor. "Travis, the desk?"
They got working while I continued into the bedroom and rolled back the rug, revealing the trap door. I hauled it open and peered inside. Everything was exactly as I had left it and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Anyone need stakes?" I called, shifting the weapons around so I could get better access to the books and the files of papers.
"We'll take some!" Dean replied. "Although I've never had much luck with staking a vamp. Dad always told up to behead them."
"Both are effective if you know what you're doing," I said, pulling a handful of stakes out and setting them down behind me. "We're taking all this."
Kipps appeared in the doorway, frowning.
"You can't just walk away with..." Then he saw the hidden library. "We need to get that out of here before the local sheriff finds it."
"Sheriff James is a bit of a tool," I said, deciding not to comment on how "you" turned into "we."
He knelt beside me and we started pulling the massive, dusty tomes out of the floor and placing the between us.
"Did you figure it out yet?" I asked Quill.
"What?"
"What happened here."
"I haven't gotten a good look around yet."
"Then I'll tell you what we think happened. The point of access was the skylight above the kitchen. I'm convinced that Nikovage Bloodhunter did it himself. I don't know how else it could have happened. You need superhuman strength to lift it open, or about eight people, which seems improbable," I said.
Kipps grabbed another armload of books and stacked them.
"What do you know about Nikovage Bloodhunter?" he asked.
"I know six months ago, in Boston, he beat me to a pulp and walked away with a dagger and a stake sticking out of his chest. I know that he's one of, if not the, first vampires in America. I know that he started a vampire cult called the Blood Sect. They were popular a few centuries back and reemerged near here in the seventies. And I know for a fact that in 1400, a powerful enchantress performed a very dark, very powerful spell on him while he drank the blood of one hundred victims from the Cup of Life during a complete lunar eclipse. Whatever happened that night...he's not a normal vampire," I said, pulling the last of the papers free.
"And your friends? What do they know?"
"Everything I know with a few bonus insights about Ramsey. His father is Hermes and the Stolls are his half-brothers. His mother is part of the Wizarding World, but he didn't inherit her magic. He's a squib," I said.
"And the Winchesters? What do they bring to the table?"
"Those idiots? They're oblivious. Happened to be in the right place at the right time," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "They didn't even know how to solve their own haunting case."
"There were hauntings here?" Kipps asked sharply.
"Sort of. I don't know all the precise details, but I was the idiot that climbed up two houses last night to steal their weathervanes. I think Travis stole the other two. My hands still smell that weird plant that was growing on the trellis."
I'd scrubbed at my hands for a good ten minutes and taken a shower, but the smell still lingered, along with the faintest of waxy residues.
"Weathervanes?"
"Yeah, long story. We think the son killed the father with the materials, melted them down, and finished the father's final metalworking projects," I summarized, standing up to paw through Ramsey's dresser. I found three leather belts. Why one needed that many was beyond me, but they were just what we needed. "But if anyone asks, you don't know that we executed the great weathervane caper of oh-three, okay?"
"Never heard that sentence before," Kipps said. Maybe he did have a sense of humor buried in there somewhere.
We used the belts to tie together stacks of books and started carrying them out to Kipps' car. The trunk was cluttered with a strange collection of weapons. There was a hard-sided case meant for a sniper rifle. It was stacked on another long, plastic case, and draped across the top was a fancy Italian rapier strapped to a belt with a bunch of mysterious pouches.
"What's with the weapons?" I asked.
"The rapier is from my ghost hunting days. I'm quite proficient. The other two are standard issue for Rangers."
"I recognize a gun case when I see it. What's the other one?" I asked.
"Bow case."
"Bow?" I questioned.
"Longbow," he clarified. "It's a long-standing Ranger tradition. Since the inception of the Rangers, it was their weapon of choice. One of my qualifications is mastery of the bow."
"It seems a bit antiquated. Can't exactly run around town with one strapped to your back," I noted.
"Hence the other weapons. I also carry a handgun," he said, lifting the hem of his jacket. I'd seen the weapon earlier but hadn't thought much of it. "Come on. Let's get the rest of the books before we outstay our welcome."
Travis and Connor had torn apart the living room but didn't find anything. Now they were putting everything back in its rightful place. Dean was pawing through Ramsey's kitchen cupboards for a snack and Sam and Charlie were engaged in a conversation about something, but I didn't pay it much attention.
"So, I've told you what I know. What do you know about Nikovage?" I asked as we scooped up the final few papers.
"You were right, he was the first vampire to cross the Atlantic--or at least, that's what our records reflect. And though vague, you were also right about his association with the Blood Sect. And three for three, you were right about the ritual in 1400. I have it under good authority that the Greek enchantress Circle performed the ritual."
That sank in and Merlin's comment suddenly made more sense. Judging by Kipps's smug expression, he was pleased that I didn't know all the details.
"You were also right to suspect that he isn't a normal vampire," he added.
"I should know, I staked that bastard in the heart and he laughed."
Kipps gave a sympathetic wince.
"None of the typical rules we associate with vampires apply to him. He can't be killed, he can stand on hallowed ground, he can cross thresholds without invitation, and he can walk in the sunlight."
That last one was news to me.
"He's a daywalker?" I repeated, my jaw hanging.
While I'd heard stories and read about them in the Council archives, I'd never actually encountered one before. Daywalkers were far and few between. They were revered in vampire culture, and as far as I was aware, usually they achieved their daywalker status through magical artifacts.
"Yep."
I felt a little sick. No man, vampire, or other supernatural being deserved that much power. Especially not one that used it to garner a cult following to kill people.
"We're screwed, aren't we," I muttered.
"We just lack some information," Kipps said, slamming the trunk of his SUV closed. Everything was neatly packed up. "Where's your base of operations?"
"We sort of have rooms at this gross bed and breakfast, but there's hardly any space. And we just met Charlie this morning, so I have no idea where he's staying," I said, leaning against the side of the car with crossed arms. "What about you?"
"I'm renting a cabin across the lake," he said. "We best regroup there and look at the information Donnellen left behind. Think everyone's done inside?"
"Probably. You got everything you need?"
"Show me the skylight."
We stood underneath it in the kitchen for a few minutes, listening to Dean crunch on stale tortilla chips before heading out the back door and climbing onto the roof. Kipps was pretty nimble and had no problem joining me on the slanted shingles. He inspected the skylight before trying, just as Dean had last night, to lift it open. When he failed, I demonstrated that it was possible and slipped inside, landing crouched in the kitchen.
"Right. We should get out of here. We've lingered too long already," Kipps decided before closing the skylight.
I rounded everyone up and shepherded them out the front door. Everything looked in its place and I closed the door, exiting last. Charlie produced his wand and tapped it against the lock. It clicked into place and I exchanged an impressed look with Dean.
Kipps scanned our group, heaved out a dramatic sigh, and extended an invitation for us to stay at his cabin. By centralizing our base of operation, he reasoned, we'd be done with this whole business much quicker. I had no argument with that logic, and I was short on cash, so I readily agreed. The others found the proposition satisfactory, and we split up.
Dean and I climbed into the Impala and headed back toward town while the others sorted themselves into two groups. I'd taken the extra key room Travis carried and promised to grab anything they had left behind in our rented room. I also had a secondary motive, and that was wanting to make a call to Alban without Kipps being around to overhear me. We'd already started off on the wrong foot and I wasn't exactly in the mood to hold my tongue.
"Drop me here," I told Dean as the diner came into view. "I want a newspaper."
I jumped out of the car and looped around to the driver's side. The window was rolled down and I leaned over.
"I'll drive myself out. You have the address? Good, I'll see you in a bit."
The Impala rumbled down the street and I made for the diner, recalling a display of newspapers just inside the door. The leading story was about a mysterious string of house fixture burglaries—the author reckoned that even lawn gnomes were in danger. I stepped inside, gathered up the latest edition, and paid at the counter. As I retreated to the street, I pulled out my phone and called Alban as I hoofed it back to the B&B.
"El! Perfect timing!" Alban's excitement was contagious. I knew he had good news. "I spoke with Broca, Broca spoke with Ranger Commander Theron Chu, and Commander Chu promised to speak to Kipps about treating you with leniency and including you in the investigation. I wasn't able to advocate for your new allies, but no matter what, he can't shut you out."
"Glad it's official. We've sort of reached an understanding, but we've yet to exchange all our information. Dean and I popped back into town to clear out the motel. Kipps rather begrudgingly offered us lodging at his rented cabin. I'm not exstatic about shared quarters, but if we're organized, we'll get this sorted faster," I said optimistically.
"Okay. I've got a fax number and I'll send over all the missing persons cases dating back to the seventies along with any other pertinent information we've gathered on Nikovage, his contacts, and the Blood Sect."
"Thank you, Albs. We'll keep you posted with anything we find. Granted I have service," I added. "Can you call home for me and check in?"
"Of course," Alban promised. "And El?" There was worry in his voice. "Watch your back. I know your new friends have varying amounts of experience, but when it comes down to it, the only person you can trust is yourself."
"I know."
With that grim parting thought, I redoubled my efforts to get back to the bed and breakfast. The Stolls hadn't brought much into the room to start with, so beyond gathering a stray jacket, a multitool with lockpicking extensions, and a shaving kit packed with toiletries, there wasn't much to grab from the room. I doubled back and took the complimentary soaps and hair products and the cheap plastic pens monogramed with a crude rose logo before heading down to the lobby to turn in my keys.
Dean's Impala was gone when I exited the building. I threw everything into my car and found my way around the lake.
Kipps's rented cabin was far more modern compared to Ramsey's place. It has smooth lines, huge picture windows, and was three stories tall, built right on the waterfront with a stone patio complete with matching metal furniture and a large, wooden dock that jutted out into the black lake water. Two canoes and a kayak were moored to the cleats along the side.
With our four cars parked on the gravel, tree-lined driveway, it looked like we were old friends meeting up for the weekend away from the city. I pulled off the driveway onto a flattened patch of dirt so I didn't have to the car later. Before heading inside, I gathered up my go-bag, a duffle full of vampire-fighting paraphernalia, the newspapers I'd bought, and the Stoll's possessions.
Travis let me inside, eyeing the weapons I toted curiously. He was one to talk. He liked to keep his sword close at hand.
"Hold these, please," I said, shoving the newspaper and a few extra weapons into his arms.
I kicked off my boots by the pile of shoes next to the door and glanced around the spacious first floor. The rooms flowed into one another with wide doorways. To one side of the slate-tiled foyer was a dining room with a large, wooden table. The dining room connected to the kitchen, which had a view of the lake. A living room was located to the other side of the foyer and it opened up to a great room, which span most of the back of the house. It had high ceilings and the wood-paneled walls were decorated with hunting trophies.
Kipps and the others had set up shop here. There was a large coffee table in the middle of the room, ringed by leather chairs. Sam was perched in one chair, Connor on the arm of another, and Charlie leaned against the cold hearth, his arms folded. Dean stood, his legs spread wide, looking out the back windows at the patio. Kipps was in the kitchen, brewing a pot of tea.
"I just got off the phone with Commander Chu. I'm supposed to let you guys in on the case," he told me as I unloaded my weapons and gear on the dining room table.
"I'd heard as much," I replied. "Did the faxes come through?"
"Printing in the study upstairs as we speak," Kipps promised.
"Perfect," I said, stepping into the great room to study the many sets of antlers hanging from the walls. "Nice digs."
"Thanks," Kipps grunted.
I joined the rest of the group in the great room and sat down on the wooden floor, back pressed against one of the chairs, legs sprawled out underneath the table, which was laden with the materials we had removed from Ramsey's cabin. After a moment of consideration, I decided to wait for Kipps to join us before pawing around Ramsey's stuff.
That gave me a moment to study the room. Not only was I completely surrounded by testosterone, I was one of, if not the, youngest people in the room. When it came to experience, I had a hard time pinpointing where I fell on the continuum. Charlie clearly had the least amount of hunting expertise. While the Stolls had serious training, they also lacked the practical application side of things. They lived within the safety of the boundaries of their camp. The rest of the group was harder to sort out, but I knew for a fact I fell somewhere among them. Out of the Winchesters, Sam seemed to have a little less experience than Dean, but he definitely knew the demon world better than his brother. Whether or not they knew more than Kipps was hard to decide. Kipps had been immersed in this world his entire life and been on the frontlines for at least half that time.
I was younger than them, had fought for less time than them, yet we tackled different cases. When I went on patrol, I didn't consider it a successful night until something had been killed or dusted. The Winchesters focused on more complex cases that took time to untangle, as did Kipps. But Kipps had the authority, and ultimately, he was the one running the official investigation, so I would defer to him. He also seemed to have more wits about him--no offense to Sam.
Kipps sat on a chair near me with his cup of tea. He took a delicate sip and surveyed the room as I had done.
"So, what do you know about Nikovage Bloodhunter?" I asked, folding my arms.
He set down his tea and folded his hands.
"We don't know precisely when Bloodhunter was turned or who sired him, but we do know about the ritual in 1400. As Elodie and the Watchers have discovered, it was performed under a full lunar eclipse. He killed one hundred innocent victims and drank their blood from the Cup of Life while Circe performed the magic." The Stolls perked up. "We don't know the ritual, we don't know how he came into posession of the Cup of Life, and we don't know how to break it.
"We do know that the ritual changed Nikovage. As I told Elodie, he isn't a normal vampire. He is a daywalker and the boundaries do not apply to him. In some regards, he functions as if he were a regular human.
"Between 1400 and the seventeenth century, there is very little known about Nikovage. Based on some of his associates later in life, we can assume that he made good use of his time in Europe and made many acquaintances with powerful beings, not just in the vampire circles. We have reason to believe that Nikovage was the first vampire to cross to America, and it probably helped that he was a daywalker. Once in the Colonies, he acted quickly and began turning vampires.
"The first evidence of the Blood Sect that the Rangers have in their records show that it had emerged in 1743. We don't know much about what he did or how it operated. We can't trace back which vampires were involved, but we know it was popular for at least a century. In the late nineteenth century, the Blood Sect was on the decline and Nikovage actually disappeared from America for a while.
"The Blood Sect was not active again until the seventies, but this time, it was a much smaller affair. Nikovage kept the circle tight, but it died out before the turn of the century. At least, we believed it did."
Kipps looked to me and I pondered the information he'd given us and how to best fill in the gaps.
"That lines up largely with what the Watchers know. We were able to track down a vampire by the name of Katia Kirchoff. I interrogated her, but she wasn't very forthcoming with information. She crossed over from Europe with Nikovage and we speculate he turned her after their arrival in the colonies. She was part of the first iteration of the Blood Sect but had some sort of falling out. When I got to her, she was physically unable to speak about the Blood Sect. She told me it was protected by an oath she took, and it looked as if even mentioning it was painful," I explained.
"In the Wizarding World, we have Unbreakable Vows that sound very similar to what you are describing," Charlie chipped in. "Once one is made, it cannot be broken. If one of the people involved breaks the vow or fails to fulfil it, they can die."
"Interesting," I said, allowing a moment for that to sink in. When I felt it appropriate, I plowed on. "Well, Katia is dead now, but she was what turned us on to the Blood Sect in the first place and the way she spoke of Nikovage made me suspect the Sect was actually a cult. Being right is an amazing feeling. Anyway, the only other thing that we know that Kipps failed to mention is about the second coming of the Blood Sect. My Watcher and Ramsey found evidence that it was based out of Denton Valley. If that is true, it could explain why Ramsey was killed. He was probably poking around and Nikovage found out. If what Kipps says about Nikovage breaking the rules is true, then it stands that he was the one who murdered Ramsey."
"At this juncture, I think that is a very probable assumption," Kipps agreed.
We lapsed into silence. I had plenty to say, but I didn't want to dominate the conversation. Since no one else was speaking up, I decided to continue.
"I don't know what you or your Ranger supervisor or whatever he's called are planning, but the Watchers and I disagree on a course of action. They think we should track down Nikovage and keep tabs on him, but I think that's futile if we don't have a way of killing him. Ramsey died for a reason, and if it was because he was poking around, we're putting a target on our backs by acting without a means to an end."
The others considered the proposition.
"My Ranger, Vishnu Ram, and I don't have a plan. But I agree with you. Ramsey died for a reason, and though I don't doubt our fighting experience, we can't take on a daywalker that can go anywhere he damn well pleases and can't be killed."
"Usually I wouldn't be so cautious, but after last time? I'm not taking any chances," I said firmly, absentmindedly rubbing at the ribs I'd cracked in Boston six months back.
"I trust your judgement," Travis said. "I can't speak for everyone else, but I know very little about vampire hunting, so whatever you think is best."
Connor and Charlie nodded in agreement. The Winchesters exchanged a look and Dean spoke up.
"I hate vamps to begin with, so if we're going up against this mutant vampire freak, we might as well be prepared."
"Fantastic," I said, folding my legs and leaning forward to get a better look at the things we'd pulled from Ramsey's cabin. "He came out here to research the ritual with the Cup of Life. We should look through the books for any mention and take a look at the documents."
Everyone looked to me for direction, so I stood up and stared passing around books. They didn't look thrilled to be doing research--especially Dean, who held the book upside down for a distressingly long minute before flipping it the right way up--but they started turning pages. I handed Kipps a stack of loose papers and settled down with my own stack.
"What do you know about elemental magic?" I asked Kipps.
"Not much, but I don't trust this Cup of Life. It sounds dangerous."
"From what I understand, it is."
As I shuffled through the papers, I told Kipps about my encounter with Merlin. He listened attentively, interjecting with the occasional question.
The one thing I left out was the fact that Merlin had the Cup. I didn't know what motivated the Rangers and what they knew about Merlin, but it didn't seem like it was my place to tell.
"Wait, if the ax is silver, how is it effective in battle?" he asked, glancing up from a folded newspaper clipping.
"I'm assuming it has something to do with magic. I've been hunting with it for a few weeks now and the blade has yet to dull, so I trust it."
I finished up my story and we lapsed into silence. Dean mumbled complaints every few minutes, but we all ignored him. I had just polished off a stack of out-of-date police reports and was considering heading upstairs to grab the documents Alban had faxed over when Kipps let out a cry and slammed something down on the coffee table. We all dropped our reading materials and crowded around what appeared to be a survey map. It took a minute, but I recognized the lake and Denton Valley. A huge section of the map was shaded unevenly with pencil. Within this area, there was a large red dot.
"What is it?" Charlie asked.
Kipps checked the edge of the paper and smiled. He actually smiled.
"This is a recent map of the area, published just two years ago. It was sandwiched in with a list of missing persons cases from the second coming of the Blood Sect. Anyone else up for a drive?" he asked.
I glanced out the window, noted the position of the sun, and immediately shot down the idea.
"We're losing light, and you want to run halfcocked into the woods where we suspect a cult of vampires is gathering?" I said caustically, not bothering to hide how much of a stupid idea it was.
Kipps's expression faltered as he realized the time.
"Tomorrow, then," he said.
Everyone else seemed game, but I had a list of reservations.
"We need a plan. A concrete plan. We can't just run around the woods hoping to find evidence of the Blood Sect! We don't have a way of killing Nikovage and have we forgotten he's a daywalker?" I added.
"We don't know if this relates to the Blood Sect," Kipps argued. "What's wrong with taking a quick look around? That will tell us if we're on the right track or not."
"Didn't we just decide against doing this?" I asked, although it felt as if I was addressing a group of monkeys. Kipps was already estimating how much area we needed to cover and coming up with some sort of plan with quadrants and a search grid. "Guys! We need to talk about this!"
"Elodie has a point," Travis said, but it seemed half-hearted. Besides, the glint in his eyes betrayed him.
June 19th, 2003
Denton Valley, New York
Sheriff Station
"I lost the argument. And when I proposed that just Kipps and I should take a look, they shot that down as well."
"Why just you and Kipps?" Doctor Reid asked.
"Because of the experience," I said. "I patrol on a daily basis. Running a recon trip through the woods was right up my ally. And Kipps because he's trained in this sort of thing. I had yet to experience it, but the training Rangers go through is incredibly in-depth. He can move silently, he knows how to blend into surroundings. It's uncanny. Once, I was standing three feet from him and I couldn't see him, he's that good at camoflauge."
Doctor Reid seemed skeptical--well, more so.
"What about the police reports that your Watcher faxed over?"
"Those came into play a bit later. The boys were so excited about searching the woods that they made a plan. At least they knew about tactics. The plan seemed solid enough, and once they got it out of their system, I cajoled them back into researching.
"I remembered a train of thought from earlier and suggested to Kipps that we take a look at local landowners. If the Sect was reemerging in Denton Valley, it stood to reason that they had some sort of familiarity or infrastructure in the area that had held up over time. He called up his Ranger contacts while I had Alban continue the search for information regarding property owners in the area.
"Then we turned to the police reports. We sorted through them, creating categories for missing persons, mauling cases, and anything else strange from the area. Alban sent over stuff for New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massachussetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and even Ontario and Quebec. That just told us we had a lot of strange cases on our hands.
"It was Sam who suggested we take a chronological approach."
I had to give credit where credit was due. Sam had really pulled through during this part of the investigation, especially since Kipps and I were so set on finding the answer in the different types of cases. He'd started sorting things by year and when we all pitched in and placed the cases in order, the pattern became fairly evident.
"It was hard to nail down the exact pattern because it takes time to realize someone is missing and to find a body, but what we realized was the Sect seemed to strike every four or so days. Missing persons reports were field like clockwork, which backed up the theory, and there was some ambiguity regarding the mauling cases, but everything seemed to come back to this four-day cycle. So we took a look at recent missing persons and sure enough, a similar pattern emerged."
"What did this tell you about the Sect?"
"For one, it was organized. And when we analyzed the more recent cases, we found they were much closer to New York, so it was as if the net wasn't cast as wide as it had been before. That suggested that the Sect was smaller, but that was pure speculation because we didn't actually know how big it was to begin with. More importantly, however, if we were right, we knew that someone would go missing in the next few days, we just didn't know who or where."
"But all that got put on the backburner because they wanted to get a look around the woods, but more importantly, we couldn't kill Nikovage. If we played our cards too soon, they would just go underground again. We had to reconcile that we probably wouldn't be able to save a few victims. Since we were all struggling with that, Dean and I suggested some vampire slaying practice."
June 15th, 2003
Denton Valley, New Yor
Kipps's Cabin
"Right, who here has actually killed a vampire before?" I asked.
The Winchesters were quick to raise their hands, and they were the only one. This was going to be harder than I though.
"Okay. Kipps? What's your experience?"
"I've learned the theory behind killing a vampire, but I've never actually encountered one before. They're sort of protected in New York City if they belong to a clan and the clan follows the proper rules. These are rules I am bound by, but you, Miss LaBerge, are not."
I had never heard such an absurd thing before. New York was such an easy hunting ground. Vampires seemed to crawl out of the woodwork whenever I set foot in the city, as if they knew who I was. They all wanted first crack at me.
"Theory is far from the actual act. And with that toothpick of a sword of yours, you're not going to get very far. Stolls. What kind of training do you have?" I asked.
"Basic sword training and battle experience," Travis said. "We've killed monsters before, but nothing like a vampire."
"Charlie?"
He just shook his head.
"I've gone through seven years of Defense Against the Dark Arts training, but I've never seen a vampire."
"Okay. Do you have a spell or something?"
"No."
Not exactly what I was hoping for.
"Dean, Sam, what's your weapon of choice?"
"I'm a machete man," Dean answered easily. "Light, easy to handle, gets the job done."
I nodded and began a lesson on basic vampire theory.
"You can kill a vampire with a stake or by beheading. Personally, I'm a fan of beheading, but often times, a quick stake to the heart is the easiest way to sort out your problem. Besides, it's easy to arm up on stakes. Blades can get lost in battle but it's easy to carry back-up stakes." The others gave me curious looks, especially regarding the beheading comment. Oh well. "Let's clear out the furniture so we can practice."
"I've got it," Charlie volunteered, producing his wand. "I'm not supposed to perform magic in front of you Muggles, but then again, you aren't regular Muggles."
I decided to take it as a compliment and moved off the rug. Charlie started waving his wand about and pieces of furniture started levitating and stacking themselves neatly along the wall. Lastly, the carpet rolled up on its own and tucked itself on top of the chairs. The confused look on Dean's face was priceless. Kipps was busy making some more tea and couldn't care less. The others only seemed mildly impressed, but if I had to guess, it was an act because magic? It was pretty damn cool.
Stakes were distributed to everyone, including the Winchesters. I demonstrated a reverse grip, which had the most mobility when it came to fighting in close quarters with a vampire. Held any other way, staking a vampire in the chest was awkward and uncoordinated because the angles were wrong.
"Vampires are fast and strong. Be aware of that. And though it sounds stupid, remember that they turn to dust once they've been staked. It's certainly caught me off guard before," I added, finishing my long-winded spiel.
"Demonstration!" Travis called and Connor egged him on.
Since Charlie and Kipps seemed equally enticed by the idea, I looked to the Winchesters. Sam was watching with interest and Dean was picking dirt out from underneath his nails with the whittled tip of his stake.
"I suppose. Sam, Dean, two against one. Try to stake me without getting staked in the process," I proposed.
I tugged my dagger free of my belt and tossed it aside. Sam and Dean cast aside excess weapons and each held a stake ready. They were both in front of me as I took up a fighting stance, my right foot forward, my weight on the balls of me feet. Dean took a step to my left and Sam to my right as they boxed me in from either side.
"Just don't break anything!" Kipps warned as I decided to take on Sam first. He was the weaker of the two, only by a little.
I pivoted in a full circle, lashing out at Sam. I may have been the Slayer, but he had excellent reaction time. He blocked my swing with his forearm and made a very promising jab toward my ribcage with his stake. I twisted out of the way and ducked, narrowly avoiding Dean's first attack.
"How hard can I kick you?" I asked, backing up a pace, arms held up.
"Don't break anything," Dean replied, playing off Kipps's comment.
I kicked him hard, the sole of my shoe connecting with the inside of his left knee. Dean sagged forward and I kicked the stake from his hand, darting behind him and miming a stake to the chest. Then I dropped him like a sack of flour and turned my attention to Sam, who was putting up a very thorough defense. I edged forward and feigned, testing his reactions. Sam didn't react. Then he lunged forward. I blocked one punch and dodged the other before throwing my own blows, none of which landed successfully. When he lunged again, I managed to trap his right arm between my left arm and my body. I wrapped my arm around his and twisted around behind him, jabbing the stake at his chest. I stopped when the tip snagged his cotton t-shirt.
"That was tame," I said, adjusting my shirt.
Travis burst out laughing.
"Alright, hotshot, think you can do better?" I asked.
Sam and Dean beat a hasty retreat and Travis took a few strides closer to me. He made a big show of unbuckling his sword belt and tossing it to Connor before mirroring my fighting stance. I just stood there, waiting for him to strike first, fully intent on toying with him. Travis rushed forward and attempted a few jabs. With each thrust, I stepped backward until Travis stopped, realizing his advance was futile. He needed a new approach.
"Oh, come on," I taunted, hoping to draw a rise from him.
Travis darted forward, but I was expecting it. I dropped and swept my leg around, knocking Travis to the ground. He landed hard but maintained his grip on the stake. Before I could drive my own stake home, he rolled to the side and struggled up. I dove forward, rolled, and launched myself into his legs. He topped to the ground again and I landed on top of him, stake pressed to his heart.
"Not bad," I said, standing up and reached down a hand. Travis accepted and I hauled him to his feet. "Connor, may I borrow your sword?"
Connor grinned and nodded. He threw Travis's sword belt across the room, which Travis caught with well-practice ease, and drew his own sword, passing me the handle. I tested the weight and balance, swishing it back and forth quickly in a complex pattern.
"I'm not a fan of the limited space," Travis noted.
It concerned me as well, but I shrugged nonchalantly.
"We'll make do."
Since we'd busted out the sharp blades, the others wisely gave us an even wider birth. Travis stood with his back to the fireplace and I stood with the kitchen behind me.
"First to disarm?" Travis suggested.
I inclined my head, both signaling my agreement and the start of the duel.
Travis's sword control was excellent. Every step he made was precise and calculated. The piece looks so natural in his hand, as if it hardly weight anything at all. He was also a bit of a showoff, adding unnecessary flourishes as he wielded the blade. Before charging forward, he twisted the sword around in his hand, demonstrating how at ease he was with the weapon.
For the moment, I allowed him to be on the offensive. I let him lead, I parried his attacked, I stood my ground, I got a handle on his style.
"Oh, come on 'Lodie," he taunted as the countertop grew perilously closer.
I began to fight back.
Our swords clattered as I made a valiant comeback, pushing Travis into the center of the room. My sudden flip from defense to offense caught him off guard, but he recovered remarkably quickly. Connor cheered on his brother, yelling some choice insults my way, just to goad me.
I aimed a heavy overhead strike at Travis. He brought his blade up to meet mine and the blow rippled back through my arms, jarring my elbows. I pressed down and Travis adjusted the angle of his blade. There was a terrible shriek of metal on metal as my blade slid along his until our hilts were locked together, and it became a battle of strength. I was winning. At least, I was, until he stepped back, and I fell forward, completely off balance. Somehow, I managed to twist around and meet his blade, but the strike was uncoordinated.
"You got her, Travis!" Connor shouted.
Wanting so bad for him to be wrong, I fought tooth and nail. Perhaps it was how desperately I fought back, my sheer will beat him driving my borrowed sword, but I managed a disarming maneuver. My wrist moved in a tight, precise movement, circling around Travis's blade, which popped out of his hand and clattered to the ground, nearly taking off my pinkie toe in the process. I was a little bit in awe and stared down at the floor where the blade was rocking side to side.
"Damn," Travis cussed, shaking out his wrist.
"Good try."
"You don't win gracefully, do you?" Kipps remarked.
"You should see me when I lose," I shot back, returning Connor's sword and picking up Travis's. "But fun and games aside, you guys should really practice with stakes.
June 19th, 2003
Denton Valley, New York
Sheriff Station
"What brings you to Denton Valley?" I asked Doctor Reid suddenly, cocking my head to the side. The question had just occurred to me, I was so wrapped up in my own dilemma.
Doctor Reid glanced over at Agent Hotchner, who nodded.
"Sheriff James called us in regarding recent the disappearances which you spoke of. We also recognized a pattern in the area and knew we needed to act quickly to rescue the latest victim alive. There's a known sex offender in the area we arrested you that we believed to have connections with the person responsible for the abductions. We were in the middle of executing a warrant when we heard a loud scream coming from the woods and moved to investigate."
"Ah. That was probably Nikovage when I killed him," I said matter-of-factly.
"How did he die?"
"You saw the stake?"
I vividly remembered what it had felt like when I plunged the stake through his heart. I had felt so light. His entire body burst into blood red flames as a desperate shriek tore from his throat. In seconds, he was nothing more than a crispy husk. How the stake had remained untouched was beyond me, but I suppose it had something to do with the magic of the warlock who enchanted it.
"Yes. It's not possible, unless it was inserted into his body after the fact."
"It is possible if magic was involved," I corrected. "Which it was."
"But you said Nikovage was impossible to kill. You even proved it."
"Yes, but we knew nothing about elemental magic. Charlie only practiced modern magic, and even though Circle performed the original spell, the Stolls were clueless. We really had absolutely no idea what to do, which was partially why I agreed to go on the ill-time recon mission. We didn't have anything else and we didn't know where else to turn to, so while it felt wrong, it also felt productive."