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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Exitus - 11. Part I, chapter 11

- XI -

 

He had to admit – he liked this. He ran at least three red lights, and ‘speed limit’ appeared to be something that didn’t even exist in his mind (or vocabulary) right now. He saw several militia cruisers coming to an angry, light-flashing life, but it seemed that as soon as the trooper would run the license plate number through the scanner, they would realize that the car belonged to Salamander, and all the lights would immediately die off without as much as a hint of hesitation. Desmond hemmed under his breath at yet another suddenly light-less cruiser, and then he saw the fire.

“Holy hell, Nex,” he muttered while getting closer. “You do it in style, don’t you?”

The fire seemed to be impossible to kill – even with all the rain that started coming down hard again, and with all the fire trucks, the flames kept growling hungrily, sending some strange wet smoke and heavy ashes everywhere.

Desmond got as close as he possibly could, parked on the side of the road in ‘No Parking’ zone, and killed the engine. He got out, silently cursing at the rain, and started to walk towards the raging flames, his eyes darting around, searching for the Hunter. He knew that she was around here somewhere. He listened very intently, and then suddenly, there was a faint silent whisper coming from somewhere on his left:

“More... More... More...”

Desmond turned around and followed that whisper, which kept growing louder as he got closer. He saw her several minutes later. She was standing rigidly-still, staring at the flames without blinking, her thin nostrils trembling impatiently. “Goddammit, more...!” Desmond heard in his head, and hemmed silently at raw greed in that silent demand. He knew that right now, Nex was so caught up in feeding off the raging flames that she was completely unaware of Desmond being anywhere near her.

“Did you even bother to see if there were people in that warehouse?” he asked in a low voice when he got closer, and her head snapped to the right, her eyes grotesquely red because of all the flames.

Desmond wasn’t surprised to see a shadow of annoyance running over her face – Hunters were emotion-free, that was true, but whenever it came to their professionalism, it was different. Right now, it was clear that Desmond caught her completely by surprise, which meant he just proved to her that he was the better one at the moment. “Again,” he thought with dark satisfaction, remembering a couple of their old encounters.

“No,” she answered shortly and turned towards the fire again. “I did not have time for something so useless.”

“Useless,” Desmond repeated, and this time, there was a small smile running over her lips.

“Don’t try to lecture me about the value of human life, Specter,” she said without looking at him. “You are the last one who should be singing that particular song.”

“What else can Doriel do?” Desmond asked without wasting any more time.

“I already told you...”

“We both know that there is something else,” Desmond interrupted her. “Why are you hiding this?”

She let out a short, annoyed sigh and faced him once again.

“Specter, right now, you are literally playing with fire,” she said dangerously.

“A black stream almost killed Raven an hour ago,” he said calmly without mentioning anything else, and she stopped talking. “It was the same stream as the one that killed Julian.”

They told her about the entire incident while they were exchanging information. She stared at him without blinking, flames making her face look eerie with constantly changing shadows.

“That’s impossible,” she said finally, and Desmond rolled his eyes.

“Are you telling me that there is someone else out there who can kill with one single jolt of a black stream?” he demanded sharply, and she looked at the flames again. “Nex, what else can he do? And why in the bloody hell are you hiding this?”

She took a deep breath and tore her gaze away from the raging fire that was nowhere near giving up.

“Because I don’t know,” she said forcefully, and Desmond frowned at that. “I don’t know what else he can do.”

“Reagan never told you?” Desmond asked with disbelief, and she smiled at that.

“No,” she said, concentrating on the flames once again. “She doesn’t know either.”

Desmond remained speechless for several seconds.

“Come again,” he said finally, and this time, she stood still.

“She doesn’t know,” she repeated. “She knows about everything but one ability of his. He hid it.”

“How in the world can somebody hide an ability from someone like Reagan?” Desmond asked incredulously, and Nex sighed.

“This is why he was in Stratum Five, Desmond,” she said unexpectedly tiredly. “Because he managed to do it. He managed to hide something like that from Reagan herself... Or Claudia, for that matter,” she shrugged. “Claudia tried figuring him out,” she shot him a quick sideways glance. “She failed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Desmond frowned. “Why didn’t you just say this right away, back in Salamander’s house?”

“Because I do not like to admit that I don’t know something,” she replied calmly, and he narrowed his eyes.

“I thought you were incapable of pride,” he muttered, and she looked at him again.

“This is not pride,” she said in the same calm manner. “It’s personal preferences.”

“Goddammit, Nex...” Desmond closed his eyes for a few seconds.

“He is not the one who sent the stream,” the redhead said, inhaling the smoky rain with sudden hunger. “I never sensed anything; it wasn’t him.”

“Maybe his hidden ability is shutting down Hunters’ sense,” Desmond muttered, and she shook her head.

“If that was the case, he would’ve done it a long time ago. That’s not it. Also,” she gave him a small smile. “Nothing and no one can shut down Hunters’ sense. How did you avoid the stream this time?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Desmond pulled out a cigarette out of the pack. “Spare a spark? You have plenty,” he glanced at the roaring flame.

She didn’t smile this time; she simply narrowed her left eye, looking at the cigarette in his mouth, and suddenly, the tip glowed warm-red.

“Thanks,” he nodded. “What matters,” he continued after taking a deep drag. “Is that he will do it again, and the next time, he will most likely succeed. You need to get back to the house.”

“Not ready yet,” she replied solemnly. “I am almost done with the Fire, but I haven’t started on the Air.”

“Bloody hell,” Desmond muttered with frustration. “What are you going to do with the Air? Create a tornado?”

“I like that thought,” she answered seriously, and he knew that she wasn’t joking.

“Do it somewhere farther, would you?” he said tiredly, and she gave him a steady nod.

“I will. Leave now, please... The better my concentration is, the sooner I will finish this.”

“It’s him, Nex,” Desmond said before leaving. “I have no bloody clue how he is doing this, but it’s him.”

He walked away without waiting for her reply, and when he finally made it to the car, he sat inside for several minutes, thinking. Finally, when he had no good ideas whatsoever, he swore loudly, flicked the finished cigarette out of the open window, and started the engine, figuring that he should just go back to the house.

He was half-way there when he finally had an idea. He stuck yet another cigarette between his teeth and dug in his pocket for the phone without taking his eyes off the road. He found it in several seconds and flipped it open, quickly punching in the number, his eyes darting back and forth between the phone screen and the suddenly dark because of the rain road. Finally, he pressed the phone against his ear and dragged on his cigarette. A minute later, he let out a frustrated obscenity.

“Dammit,” he growled into the phone. “It’s goddamn October, it’s the middle of the semester, for crying out loud, and you decided to take a vacation all of a sudden...? Anyway, call me back when you get this, it is rather important... Does the name Doriel ring the bell? And another question...”

He pressed the gas pedal harder into the floor, running yet another red light.

“Another question,” he continued, ignoring the flashing lights of the cruiser behind him. “How much do you know about Hunters’ ability to sense things? Is there any possible way anyone could ever shut that down? Goddammit, Tess...” he growled with even more frustration. “Why in the bloody hell did you have to leave now out of all the...” He took a deep breath without finishing that sentence. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Bye!”

He snapped the phone shut and threw it into the passenger’s seat, noting the absence of that cruiser behind him. He hemmed with mild satisfaction and sighed when yet another light turned yellow.

“And here we go again...” he muttered and picked up more speed.

 

****

 

By Saturday night, Desmond felt like he was about to explode from all the rigid tension building up in him every single minute, it seemed. There was nothing since Tuesday afternoon, and this sudden lack of events bothered him more than a chain of brutal attacks would. He knew he wasn’t the only one – Gabriel looked gloomy and tired, since he would constantly keep that protective barrier running, even when Julian was at home. They figured that two barriers were definitely much better than one, and Rayhe would take his off only when he went to sleep.

To Desmond’s mild amusement, the blond looked somewhat drained as well. Desmond never saw him look anything but impeccable before, even when he would get only two hours of sleep. However, it seemed that this time, the situation was taking its toll on him. “Wonder if he sleeps at all,” Desmond thought, eyeing Salamander through his eyelashes without trying to get into his head. He remembered the blond saying that the barrier would keep itself up without his interference for a few hours, but somehow, he believed that didn’t matter much to Salamander. “I know I would be awake if I were him,” he thought and glanced at Raven, who got even thinner than he was a week ago, it seemed. “Some vacation this turned out to be,” Desmond thought bitterly.

He sighed, stood up, and headed towards the kitchen, grabbing Rayhe’s empty coffee mug as he went.

“Why did he do it on Tuesday?” Raven suddenly asked in an unexpectedly sharp voice, and Desmond stopped and looked at him. “I mean,” Raven continued. “The first time, he waited until Saturday. I guess he decided to play it safe and wait before doing something like this... He knows there is a Hunter after him; more than just one as far as he is concerned...”

Desmond slowly walked back and set empty mugs on the table, forgetting about coffee.

“Why did he decide to risk it this time?” Raven looked at all of them with narrowed eyes. “Hell, if Nex were here when he did it, she would be able to trace him. Something made him to rush; what was it?”

“I don’t know,” Julian said darkly and looked at Desmond. “Where is that Hunter?” he asked shortly.

“How would I know?” Desmond replied irritably and grabbed the mugs once again. “It’s not like I am in constant contact with her...”

“You know her much better than any one of us,” Julian said as sharply. “What was she planning on doing back at that warehouse?”

“She was planning on getting more Air,” Desmond nodded curtly. “That’s all I know.”

He didn’t wait for the blond’s reply and went into the kitchen where he started working a complicated-looking espresso maker. The machine worked delightfully quickly, and coffee was ready in less than five minutes. Desmond refilled the mugs, his mood beyond dark, while pondering Raven’s question. The ex-thief was right, he thought gloomily. What made that damn half-breed to risk it all of a sudden? It was definitely something caused by Desmond’s and Gabriel’s appearance here, Desmond was sure of that. “What was it?” he thought tightly while walking back, making sure he didn’t spill any coffee. “Bloody hell, I hate this... And Salamander is right; where the hell is Nex? How long does it take one to load up on Air?” He had no idea.

“Did you try calling Tess again?” Gabriel asked tiredly after Desmond handed him the coffee mug.

“Yes,” Desmond said tightly and leaned on the table with one palm. “More than once. She is not answering.”

“Damn,” Rayhe muttered and drank some coffee.

Desmond sighed and looked at the clock. It was almost eleven in the evening.

“I guess I’ll try again,” he muttered and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Just for the hell of it.”

He was about to start punching in the number, when suddenly, there was a melodious ring of the doorbell. All four of them looked up at the same time.

“Okay, everyone heard that, right?” Raven asked with tight carefulness.

“Right,” Julian muttered and got up very quickly.

He walked to the door, his hand glowing with dark-red haze, his posture rigid.

“Were you expecting someone?” Desmond asked when the blond stopped in front of the door without opening it, and Julian shot him a quick look.

“No,” he answered shortly.

He looked at the door for several more seconds, took a quick breath, and turned the lock above the doorknob to the left. The other three men slowly walked closer without looking away from that door. Julian looked at the doorknob for another second, and then he swung the door open. Then he froze in his spot.

“Hello, Julian,” the unexpected visitor said quietly, and Desmond’s eyes grew huge.

“Holy...” he said very slowly, and Gabriel looked at him with a puzzled frown, as did Raven.

“Do you know her?” Gabriel asked quietly. “Des...!” he called a bit louder when the ex-assassin wouldn’t reply, his eyes huge and disbelieving.

Desmond blinked and looked at him.

“Do you know her?” Gabriel repeated, his frown quite deep by now. “Who is this?”

Desmond blinked again and shifted his gaze towards the person by the door.

“This is Vivienne,” he said slowly, and Rayhe became mute.

©Katya Dee. All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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