[[Black and White]]
Chapter Twenty.
[Houston, we have a problem.]
[[Apollo 13]]
[Ellie’s POV]
The heavy bass seemed to rattle my chest as I edged around the crowded dance floor. Hundreds of teens had shown for Hannah’s party—and more than a few graduates—filling the house and backyard to bursting. There was a large white tent set up out back with temporary wood flooring covering the soft grass within. A large DJ station dominated the left edge of the tent with speakers tall enough to brush the tent. People came and went from the kitchen, carrying a variety of drinks, mostly of the hard liquor variety. I watched in amazement as a boy passed me with a full bottle of Jack Daniels.
I gave up on spotting Hannah within the writhing crowd, veering off into the soft grass toward some of the tables set up a decent distance from the tent. I sank onto a chair, slipping off the heels Hannah had loaned me. Her feet were significantly smaller than mine, and I could definitely feel it. I slowly rubbed my feet, staring at the candle flickering in the center of the table.
Suddenly, I spotted Riley weaving his way through the outskirts of the crowd, obviously looking for someone. With a slight sinking feeling, I met his gaze and he made a beeline toward me. Okay, so I panicked. Dropping my shoes, I hiked up the bottom of my dress and sprinted for the edge of the house. If I could make it to the front and enter through that way, there was a chance I could shake him within the massive house.
I dodged drunken partiers, running headlong around the end of the house and skidding to a stop when I saw a nondescript door there. Glancing quickly around to make sure he couldn’t see me, I tried the knob and it swung open to reveal a pitch black room. Okay, even for me, the girl who can literally make fire, that darkness looked a little ominous. But then again, if I went the long way around, there was still a chance he’d catch me.
Call me reckless, but something about option one appealed to me. I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. After a moment, I saw a figure run past the distorted glass without even pausing. My whole body relaxed. One problem solved. Groping along the edge of the door, I felt for a light switch while my eyes adjusted to the darkness. It wasn’t until my own breathing slowed to normal that I heard it. Breathing. But it was strange, intermingled with a gurgling that chilled me to the bone. As noticed that, I realized where it was coming from. My pulse pounded as I my eyes adjusted just a little bit more and I looked down.
I screamed.
-----------[oOo]----------
[James’ POV]
Brooklyn had her arm wrapped around my neck, holding me tightly as she danced. I won’t say she wasn’t sexy. I’m not dead. But there was something just sort of wrong about it. I felt guilty. Smiling at her, I leaned down to shout in her ear, “I’m going to get a drink. You want one?”
She shook her head, grinning wildly as she released me to dance on the girl behind her. I didn’t waste any time, forcing my way out from the middle of the crowd and sucking down cool, clear air. I started toward the house, intent on grabbing a soda to replace the beer I’d already drunk earlier. I was in the kitchen digging through an ice filled cooler when I heard it. A scream ripped right through the muted bass, echoing throughout the house.
Startled, I looked up from the ice to see everyone acting as if they couldn’t hear a girl screaming bloody murder. Slowly, I shut the cooler, pushing to a stand and cocking my head. Where was it coming from, and why the hell was I the only one who heard her?
Adrenaline shooting through my veins, I stalked off down the hall. She was getting louder as I went, the screams seemingly endless. I passed a set of doors, then stopped abruptly and turned back around when the screams started growing softer. Staring hard at the nondescript white wood doors, debating with myself, I raised a hand to knock only to lower it again.
While I was still deciding, the screams were cut off, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. An icy chill slid down my spine, and the decision was made. I turned the handle and entered. It was a bedroom, normal and ordinary—also, completely empty. The fear began to fade, only to be replaced by worry. Was I going insane?
No. Those screams had been utterly real. Terrifyingly real. I paced the room, looking for God only knows what, and cursing when my foot clipped the base of a dresser and sent me sprawling. This was ridiculous. I had to have imagined it. Yeah. I’d just had too much to drink tonight. Pressing my hands into the soft carpet, I started to push to a stand only to halt halfway up, my eyes fixed on the wall just next to the dresser.
There was a crack, pretty nondescript except for the fact that it continued razor thin and straight up the wall. I stood, following it with my gaze as it extended up into the ceiling. Huh. I approached it, poking the crack hesitantly, as if the whole house might crumble if I wasn’t gentle enough. On a hunch, I looked to the other side of the dresser, and found an identical crack running clear from floor to ceiling.
“What the…” I trailed off, wary and curious. In the movies, this usually indicated a swinging wall. The kind that twirls around and around, leading to confusion for characters and hilarity for the rest of us. Usually though, there was a mantelpiece or book shelves concealing a switch. All I could see was that stupid dresser and a blank expanse of wall. I stared at it stupidly for a couple of minutes before reaching across the dresser to press my hands against the wall. Maybe…
There was a soft click, and the wall moved back a few inches before sliding sideways to reveal a well lit hallway with thick burgundy carpet and trimmed, cream walls extending back a good fifteen feet before making a sharp left. Grunting, I shoved the dresser over just enough to squeeze through the opening. As soon as I was inside, the door slid shut behind me. Whether it was timed, or there were weight sensitive pressure pads in the floor, the effect was definitely creepy.
Seeing no other choice now, I walked down the hall, careful to peer around the corner before I went head long into a booby trap or something. For pete’s sake, there was a hidden passage. Why wouldn’t there be booby traps?
Nothing looked blatantly wrong, so I walked cautiously on, making another left turn farther down. I pulled up short at the sight of another door. This one was unfinished wood, contrasting horribly with the warm elegance of the hallway. I knew I was going to have to go through it, despite the churning fear in my stomach. Not only was I curious, but if I hadn’t imagined the screaming, there was someone being hurt in there. Or worse.
With a settling breath, I pushed the door open. It was utterly dark within the room, and I immediately started groping for a light switch. There was a scent in the air unlike anything I’d ever smelled, almost….metallic. My fingers brushed plastic and I flicked it on, sucking in a horrified breath.
The first thing I noticed was the blood. There was so much blood. Too much. I couldn’t rip my gaze from the prone form lying amidst the gore. Diana’s slanted eyes gazed unblinking up at the ceiling, her hands rested on her flat stomach as if she’d been clenching them there. A huge tear in her flimsy dress revealed a gaping hole in her stomach, jagged and seeped in crimson. I shook my head, as if that could somehow make me un-see it.
Finally, I managed to look away, startled to see someone huddled in the corner, perfectly still, staring at the wall beside me. Instinctively, I took a step back, thinking I was looking at a killer, but at a second glance, I realized who it was. Careful to avoid the pooling blood, I crept toward Ellie.
“Ellie?” I asked cautiously. She didn’t answer, her large amber eyes fixed inexorably over my shoulder. I crouched next to her, and realized she was mumbling, so softly it was nearly inaudible.
“My fault. All my fault. It’s my fault.”
“Eleanor.” I said firmly, ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach. “Look at me.”
“All my fault…My fault.”
“Ellie! You’re okay. Look at me!” I reached out and shook her, but she wasn’t snapping out of it. “Look at me!”
She just continued to stare fixedly at the wall. I rocked back on my heels, mind racing. Then it hit me. Ellie’s eyes were fixed. As in, looking at something. Whipping my head around, I saw it. Whatever it had been written in was still wet, dripping down the wall and onto the floor. My heart stopped as I read the message.
Run, Princess, run.
-----------[o0o]-----------
[Katherine Mansfield’s POV]
The tea was ice cold, sitting untouched on the coffee table before me on a copy of Time magazine that was three months out of date. The clock ticked loudly in the silence of the waiting room, though not quite loud enough to muffle the clacking of computer keys. I glanced over at the secretary yet again, and she glanced up, her face strangely blank before gazing back at her computer screen. I let out a small sigh, the only visible sign that my patience was wearing thin.
I had insisted that Addie stay at home, as he didn’t much care for the man I was here to meet. Though, considering how I had met him, I could understand Adolphus’ unease. Roger Strait, aka Edmund Lionus Bainsworth III, was, technically, my ex-lover. At least, that was how he was referred to when I ‘broke his heart’ and married Adolphus. We had dallied, no more than a stolen kiss here or there, but it led to wagging tongues all the same.
As to why I’m presently dying an agonizingly slow death in the waiting room of an Order exclusive law firm, let’s say that this visit was a necessary journey down memory lane and have done with it. I cleared my throat for what had to be the twentieth time, and the secretary paused in her typing to look at me. “Yes, Ma’am?”
“I realize I dropped by unannounced,” I crossed my legs, and leveled my most regal stare at the young woman, “But I assure you, Mr. Strait and I are old friends. He would wish to be notified of my arrival.”
She wasn’t cowed. “We have a strict policy concerning walk-in’s, Miss…” She rummaged through the one, slim stack of papers on her desk, as if she couldn’t remember my name. “Miss Mansfield. I will alert Mr. Strait when he has finished with his current appointment. Until then, might I suggest the Starbucks across the street? It may be a while.”
My blood boiled. I would not mind waiting so much, if this evil child didn’t seem to take a perverse delight in my impatience. I wished so badly to just sweep her out of my way, as I was more than capable of doing. However, even at the first glance, I knew she was no Darim, and even I was bound by our laws. Instead, I found a more comfortable position on the cool leather sofa, and let my consciousness expand outward.
I could feel five men within the large office space, two of which were closed off in a separate room near one another. I focused on them, just barely brushing along their minds. If they were Darim, they would realize what was happening and immediately close themselves off. If they were human, they would merely treat the goose pimples I left behind as a random, isolated incident, and brush it off.
I felt one of the men freeze momentarily, before continuing on with his discussion. That flinch told me all I needed to know. I pushed just a little bit harder on Strait’s defenses, after a beat, he opened his mind just slightly, but enough for me to say, “You have a visitor, Edmund. An I do not like to be kept waiting.”
There was an instant jolt of recognition, and I went back to myself, a satisfied smile lurking on my face. Within minutes, the door next to the secretary opened to reveal a silver haired man, slim but fit, wearing a trim suit that fairly reeked of wealth. He was still just as handsome, and just as arrogant as I remembered. I rose, a smile on my lips.
His warm hazel eyes met mine, and he smiled as well. “Kitty. My, it has been a while, hasn’t it?”
“I should say so, Edmund.” I moved toward him, holding out a hand, which he bent and kissed. “Not since the Etheridge debacle, I believe.”
He winced at my reference to his drunken antics after I turned him down. I still wanted to laugh at the memory of his ridiculously done up cravat and red silk cape. He had flown about the ballroom, cackling madly, all the while brushing deliberately against scandalized young women. I had been mortified at the time, but the memory had lost most of its sting in the intervening years.
“Forgive me that, my dear. I was shattered.”
He had such a plaintively hopeful look, that I laughed outright. “You’re not sorry at all, dearest, and I do believe you did that simply for the jest. I can most assuredly forgive you that.”
He dropped the trite remorse and grinned instead, winking as he offered me an arm. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” He moved to lead me back through the door he’d entered through, but I stopped him, looking over to the now gaping receptionist. I fixed her with a haughty look. “Next time, dear—if you’re still here, that is—I would not think of waiting, but would simply barge in if you refused to notify him of my arrival. And my, wouldn’t that get us into trouble.”
Red crept up her neck, and she looked away at her computer screen, where a game of solitaire still resided. Edmund shook with repressed laughter, and I managed to get him through the door before I swatted at him.
“You have,” I said primly, “The most dreadful secretary I have seen in my life, and that is saying something.”
He didn’t respond, other than shaking his head, and led be back to what I presumed was his office. Everything in it was overly large, though not as ostentatious as I had expected. A massive desk sat him with his back to a wall that was completely made of glass. Both walls were dominated by mammoth bookshelves, housing a variety of books and pictures. A dark red leather sofa was placed facing his desk, leaving any visitor seated lower than himself. Well, Edmund did always adore a good mind trick.
As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned away, moving off behind his desk to look out the window. I moved toward him, but halted when he asked, “Why have you come, Katherine? It’s been nearly two centuries without a word. What brings you to my door?”
“I have a favor to ask of you, Edmund.”
“Of course you do.” He turned just slightly, and I saw the sad smile he wore. My heart twisted with guilt, but this had to be done. For Margaret. “Well?”
I took a steadying breath. “Messina has my daughter.”
He stiffened. “Elias?”
“Sophia.” It came out as a whisper, but he must have heard anyway. He spun to face me, eyes searching. I looked away, unwilling to see his pity. We both were well aware of the cruelty of Sophia Messina. Countless men and women tortured for her purposes. Behind every act of violence was the belief that she was doing good. That she alone stood against the Continuance. There was a time when I valued that single-minded drive, the way her goal eclipsed every other thought, and I used it to my advantage. I sent her after my enemies, watching with unease the blood she left in her wake, but I never stopped her. That is, until I watched her slit a man’s throat, simply for disagreeing with her.
From then on, she viewed me with contempt, despising the ‘weakness’ that halted her hand. It wasn’t until she joined the Continuance, became a veritable ghost in our midst, that I truly feared her.
Edmund may not have been privy to her most violent acts, but he felt the ripple of shock just the same as any other Order member. Whether it was rumor or truth circulating within my people, it was enough to send chills down the spine.
“She has taken her, held her prisoner, for nearly a decade.” I felt the tears well in my eyes. “We must save Maggie, Edmund.”
He stepped to me, grasping my shaking hands in his, saying gently, “What would you have me do?”
“Contact Elias. I know you are acquainted with him, and an invitation from you would not cause suspicion.” He nodded, and I felt a small trickle of relief. “We must catch them unawares if we wish to avoid bloodshed.”
“And when Elias arrives?”
“Alert me, and I will come.” I met his gaze squarely. “Despite what his wife is, I believe Elias to be a decent man. He will help us.”
“I trust you, Katherine.”
I gave him a crooked smile. “That is definitely a good thing, because the plan I’ve devised…Well, it’s bloody mad.”
-----------------[o0o]----------------
[A/N] FINISHED. :] And I left off the part that will make you hate me. And yes, I am in fact very cowardly. Lol. I can’t really put it off any longer though, so it’ll be in the next chapter, but that one won’t be uploaded for a while seeing as I work 10:30am to 7pm every day from tomorrow to next Wednesday. Bummmmmer. Ahh. Enough whining from me. ;] ENJOY!
--Lisa--