"This place is..." Terrenel's voice drops off and I nod.
"I know, I know," I murmur. "It's awful, I know. But we don't have a choice. I need to Tread these scenes again...especially this one. It's the one where I first picked up two distinctive signatures."
I bypass the police tape and beckon my men forward. "Please don't touch or disturb anything, okay."
"It will be as you say, my beloved," Chamuel says softly.
We walk into the run down apartment and I take a deep breath. The smell of rot and decay is still present, even after this length of time. It's awful. I feel a heaviness hit me. I'm suddenly so tired. So very tired.
You can do this my amour
I know, Chamuel. I'm just...I'm just...
Afraid, I know, my beloved. But just know that you can do this. You are the strongest person I know. You CAN do this.
I'm not afraid
It is okay to be afraid, my beloved. It is not a weakness. Use that fear, let it guide you, let it give you strength and push you forward and give you the motivation you need to catch these awful men.
Okay, okay, I can do that.
I know you can.
"I would very much like to know what you're saying," Branuel Or De A'anuel says dryly.
"I was just having a...moment. But I'm okay now." I take a few more deep breaths. "Okay, so I need you all to move back and please, please, DO NOT disturb me while I'm Treading." After I get them all to agree, I drop my shields—one by one. They come down, like so many dominoes dropping. Then I pull dow my empathic walls and allow the dead access. The Tread is sluggish, and comes slowly. I'm assuming because it has been a while since I last Treaded this scene, plus I'd already done this once before. I concentrate on the signatures. Now that I knew that Branuel's nephew was the Tuatha de Danaan that we were after I didn't need to feel this signature the way I needed to feel the other one. I let it all in, all of it. My heart begins to race and I can feel a fine sheen of sweat sliding down my forehead. I'm shaking when I come out of the Tread. But...miraculously I don't feel like I need a pill.
"That was amazing to watch, my midnight queen," Branuel Or De A'lanuel says, smiling broadly. "There was so much power filling the room, soooo much death...it was delicious, so thick I could almost taste it all on my tongue."
I wipe away the sweat and roll my eyes. Of course that is what he'd focus on. "Sick...I'd picked up sickness the first time I treaded, but I think I may have gotten it wrong..." I scrunch up my nose. And fish out my cell phone. I push the button 1 and soon a familiar voice answers.
"Hey Ann." Garrett's voice answer, almost hesitantly.
Oh please, oh please, let us be okay. "Hey Garett, listen..." I was not going to 'GO THERE,' and I was not going to ask him if he was okay. No. Best thing to do was to act like it was business as usual. "...listen this might now make that much sense, but I need you help on something."
"Uh yeah, okay, sure thing."
He sounded okay. At least that was good. "I need a list of the worst smack heads on the radar right now."
"You're kidding me right?"
"Does it sound like I'm kidding?" I snipe and then sigh. "Sorry, that was rude."
"Wow, YOU'RE apologizing?"
"Yes, yes, don't get used to it," I say with a smile in my voice. "So no, I'm not joking. I need that list, Garrett. Are you at the station?"
"Yes. But, Ann I don't have that kind of information just lying around."
"But you can get it." There's a pregnant pause and then I hear him.
"Hmmm—-hmmmm..."
"What that hmmmm—hmmmm mean, Garrett?"
"It means that I can speak to Wilson down in Narcotics and probably get it for you. But you ARE going to tell me what this is all about, Ann. Do you understand?" And he hangs up.
I stare at my beeping phone shocked.
"What is is, baby girl?" Walker asks.
"Garrett hung up on me."
Walker laughed. "Good for the kid. Probably just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Do you know how many times you've hung up on me, baby girl?"
"I'm not that bad," I gripe.
"No, you're worse," he says with a laugh.
We're leaving the building when I stop suddenly in my tracks. Every nerve in my body seems to suddenly scream, and buzz. I need to Tread now. I need to Tread here....no...there...and I begin to walk to the alleyway on the side of the building. It's disgusting, filthy, littered with trash and broken glass and used needles. It smells like rot and urine.
"Baby girl what the hell are we doing here?"
"I need to Tread," I murmur.
"No. You just did a Tread. You can't do another so close together."
"Walker, you don't understand, I HAVE to! I HAVE!" I push his hands away and take a deep breath and drop my shields. The crash of fear and pain hit me hard and fast. I gasp and hold the threads together...I've got to hold it together! I cannot let this get the best of me. I have never failed a Tread, I'm not about to begin now.
The signature the non Tuatha da Danaan signature is here, along with someone else, also human...not an Otherworlder. I can scent blood and fear and know that G'harna's accomplice had been here, in this alleyway with someone. I can't read the other signature as well, but the scent and faint outline of their figures come to my mind, filling my head with fuzzy pictures. Arguing, they were arguing and gesturing. I follow the path of their gestures and see the faint outline I had initially missed...a third figure—that is where the scent of death lay. The figure lay broken and still on the ground. Oh God. This person was definitely dead. Were they arguing about the dead body? Who was this accomplice of G'harna's?
I sway and as I begin to fall strong arms lift me up. I look up to find myself staring into the multi-hued eyes swimming with stars of Branuel Or De A'lanuel.
"Mo bhanrigh làidir meadhan-oidhche," he brushes a strand of hair out of my face and to my surprise lays a gently kiss to my forehead. "Rest my warrior, rest. I have you...we have you. Rest, and when you wake we will be here with you."
I smile softly and allow the darkness to pull me under, while I lay nestled within Branuel's arms.
I begin to come to, but only to be aware of angry voices. I feel like I'm having a case of deja-vu. I'm in a room (I'm assuming at Walker's house, since the room I think is completely black) I don't recognize it, and I'm still a little fuzzy in the head.
"You should have done something! It was too fucking soon for her to Tread. You're the only one who has finalized the bond, you should have fucking done something!"
I know that voice...it's Walker, and he's screaming at someone...my head is still fuzzy, and my vision feels... "off."
"She would have done it no matter what I did. She is not in the habit of listening to anyone who gives her orders..."
"That will have to change...I have many plans for her...and they all revolve around her taking orders...taking orders very well," this voice was smooth, dark and sinful, and I recognized it too—Branuel Or De A'lanuel.
"This is not the time for you to voice your wants, desires and sick plans..." Oh, that was Terrenel. "My warrior queen lays incapacitated and watching that second time was nothing like the first...she suffered. I'll hear naught of your plans when she lays like this."
"Or what...Terrenel Tir Oben? What will you do if I don't listen and obey?" Branuel says in that dark sinister voice of his.
"I should have known you lied when you told my queen you wished to sit and discuss 'things between us.' That you were willing to see if we could work out our differences. You are, and always will be nothing but a butcher, a monster. What the Goddess was thinking when she linked us together I'll never know. You are not good enough for my queen. You will never be good enough for her. She should reject the bond. You should have allowed your whore to keep the spell in place and sever the bond."
I hear a furious roar and then the clash of metal. Why, God, why can't I get my eyes to work properly? And why can't I fully wake up. Wake up Annora, wake up!!
"You will stop!" That voice belongs to Chamuel. "My amour will be distressed if she wakes to find you fighting so. Stop!"
"Oh let them have at it," now THAT was Walker. "Clearly this is a long time in the the coming."
"And would you have them kill each other, Romanoff? For neither of them will yield. There is too much history there, too much hatred. No unfortunately this is not a fight that will end well."
"Well, it will for one of them" Walker says jovially.
"No, they are evenly matched, they very well may end up killing each other. They are using Fae steel."
"Oooohhhh I need some of that. Do you know how hard it is to get your hands on Fae steel?" Walker says excitedly.
"Focus here, Romanoff. We will stop them now. You take Terrenel Tir Oben. I will take Branuel or De A'lanuel."
"Why do I get the light Fae, and you get big baddie, as baby girl calls him?"
"Just for once listen and do as I say!"
"Oh fine, just this once," I hear Walker say. Then I hear more steel upon steel.
Wake up, wake up, wake up Annora!! Get your eyes to work. I work hard to shake off the effects of the second Tread. Finally my vision clears, but my eyes are watering and I feel burning tears coursing down my cheeks. It's like every bone in my body aches and I feel like I was run over by a semi, but at least I'm awake...sort of, and can see...sort of. I see Walker and Terrenel, swords clashing, and Chamuel holding Branuel Or De A'lanuel in almost a bear hug, but it appears as if the Dark Fae King is about to tear loose.
"STOP IT!" I shout, but my voice is hoarse, and my command comes out sounding rather pathetic. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" I try again, putting more heat into my voice. Everything stops. Both Walker and Terrenel drop their swords. Branuel stops struggling within Chamuel's hold and they all turn toward me.
"Amour," "Baby girl," "Darling queen," "My midnight queen," are all uttered at the same time, and then they're suddenly all right THERE, at my side.
I wipe the tears away and wince, my eyes are still burning. "Now, who is going to explain why you were all fighting?" I hold up a hand, "No, wait, let me guess..." I turn to Walker, "You were being your usual charming self," I then point to Terrenel and Branuel, "You two lugheads decided to measure you dicks to see whose is bigger, and you..." I sigh turning to Chamuel, "Were just being you, an angel, too nice, too good, too calm and rational, annoying the shit outta these hotheaded idiots. So, am I right?" I sigh. "Listen, I don't really care what the fuck just happened. I'd like you all to just kiss and make up, okay?" I laugh at the look of horror that crosses all four of their faces. "Naw...not gonna happen? Oh well, guess it was too much to hope for. Well can you at least stop doing whatever it was that you were doing? I'm not really up to using my daggers, knives and sword right now to get in the middle of you guys. I kinda feel like shit." Suddenly Walker is right next to me, running his hand over my forehead.
"Oh baby girl...I told you not to do it. I told you it was too soon. Why did you do it, sweetheart?"
I sigh. "I had to Walker. I had no choice."
"You always have a choice."
"No, this time I didn't. The Tread was coming whether I wanted it to or not."
"Has that ever happened before, baby girl?"
I shake my head. "No. I can always choose when and where to initiate a Tread. I've never been compelled like that before. It was like the death, that death was telling me that I HAD to be there...that I HAD to see it."
Walker and Chamuel share a look and I ask, "What? What is going on? What do you think is going on?"
Chamuel sighs. "Romanoff is cross with me because he knows that you've gained things from our bond beyond my immortality...things that he believes I should've told you before we were...uh...together."
"I know I've gained things, though. And...I'm grateful...I'm just confused to as why I was so effected by that Tread. I thought bonding you would make my Treads easier."
"It will, in some ways. You will not have agonizing headaches, you will not need the pills you were taking. But you are still a Treader and there is always a trade off, my amour. Now that your death is not on the table for that trade, you're being 'negotiated' for in another way."
"What? Just spit it out, Chamuel."
"Your Treads have become stronger. Since you share my immortal soul now, death will take more from you...think of it as a test of sorts. You cannot die, so you will never belong to death...so death will test you, push you...punish you for escaping its grasp."
I frown, "Well, that is sorta shitty."
"Understatement of the fucking year," Walker growls.
"But that is why you must be careful." Chamuel says, he sounds do tired suddenly, so weary. "Walker was right, your Treads were too close together. However you were also right, you had no choice. Death would show you what it wished, and you had no say in the matter."
"So what the hell am I supposed to do?" I snap.
"Whatever death wishes you to do," Chamuel murmurs softly. "I'm sorry, my amour. But this is what you are. It is one of the reasons you were created. This too is part of your journey."
"I hate to tell you, Chamuel, but right now, I'm sorta feeling like this journey sucks major ass." I sigh. "Soooo this is going to be fun...well I guess there's a learning curve to any uh...talent you have when you're first learning. And it's kind of like I'm learning this all again, right? A different way, a new way."
"You take this with such grace, my amour."
"Actually," I snort, hell I could admit it, sometimes, "I'm somewhat scared shitless. I don't do well with not knowing what to expect. But I'm also a fighter, you all know that. And I won't just roll over and show my belly. So death..." I make tight fists with my hands and speak through grit teeth. "Come the fuck on, Death, give it your best shot."