Reckless: Nosphorus: Part II - Act 4
by redmoon
Nosphorus: Part II - Act 4
Niki sighed with satisfaction as her racing heart slowly calmed. The best drug in the world was laying next to her with a dreamy grin on his face. He must know what he was to her. He must know.
“Knicks,” he said, swallowing. “I love you.”
Niki slowly closed her eyes. Shit. She sighed, covering her moment of hesitation with a yawn. “Knicks,” she finally said with amusement. “I’ve never been able to tell... is that like ‘the blade nicks her shoulder’ or ‘don’t get your knicks in a twist?’”
“Well, not really either,” Logan replied, propping himself up on his shoulder. “It’s short for knickerbocker, which is slang for ‘New Yorker.’” Without losing his passive gaze, he made a sad little sigh. “You didn’t answer like I hoped you would.”
Niki opened her mouth, then closed it, setting her jaw. “Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?” She rolled away from him and stood, taking her clothes from the pile.
Logan frowned, spreading his hands with confusion. “What’d I say?”
Pearce moved down the streets with nothing like the elation he had hoped to feel after vanquishing this Nosphorus. There was no reward from the Council, just more probation. No pat on the back from lawyer boy, no ‘job well done’ from the Slayer. Just ‘let’s ignore him and screw.’ And that wasn’t the most frustrating part. He slid his hands into his long raincoat and his fingers surrounded the nearly empty cannister of nitrous oxide. The most frustrating part was that he could have eaten that girl back there —that carefully selected specimen— but he didn’t.
He was barely surprised when the footsteps he’d heard following him began to quicken to catch up to him. His hand had the cannister by the nozzle and he felt himself ready for anything. As it turned out: Anything but this.
He turned quickly around and lifted the cannister from his pocket as the footsteps brought their owner into range. His hand stopped in mid air, the fingers holding the nozzle tight. “Wha..?”
Pearce’s eyes rolled back into his head upon seeing The Man who had been following him. Not a man at all, but a simple vampire in a black suit and carrying a briefcase. Pearce’s brain didn’t catch more than a glimpse of his attacker before he had relented total control of his mind to the disease within him. The disease which demanded obedience.
“Do you remember?” The Creep asked, speaking as he might to a troublesome child. “Do you remember what I told you at the airport?”
Pearce made a slow nod, his eyes rolled back in his head. The steel coffin lid slid back in his overrun mind’s eye and he once again looked up to the face of The Man who had visited him in the freight storage warehouse a week ago. His arm slowly dropped to his side, the faint hiss of the escaping gas merging into the sound of the gently falling rain.
“Take them apart,” The Man reinforced, not moving a single muscle. “Destroy them all.”
Pearce nodded again, letting the can fall from his hand to the pavement. He turned on his heel and began to make his way towards the one place he did not want to be. With them.
Addison slowed the van and stopped it on the street across from the stairs leading down to the Biter. Celebration was in order. The Nosphorus had been eliminated and New York was... well, once again in as much nocturnal peril as always.
The side door slid open and Logan got out, silent, not making eye contact with the Slayer who rode shotgun. She opened her door once he had started down the stairs and acted like he didn’t exist. Addison waited even longer before getting out.
Once the other two were out of sight down the steps, he pulled the key from the ignition and pulled the latch on his door. His face turned to the window as he began to open the door and he nearly jumped out of his seat.
White-eyed and blank faced, Pearce stared back through the window, his face too close for comfort and lit only from the side by the nearest street lamp. The Watcher didn’t have time to do more than lock the door when the vampire’s fist came crashing through the glass to seize Addison’s collar.
The cool night air and the wet mist of dawn wafted through the broken window as the vampire tightened his grip on the Watcher, staring through him with unseeing eyes. Jet lag, the thought pierced the old man’s mind like a spear, sending his consciousness back into the recesses of reality and letting loose the long caged alter ego. That which served the Plague. That which served the Nosphorus.
“Listen,” Pearce said in deep, inhuman tones. “Listen and obey.”
Addison slowly nodded, his irises white and his pupils shrunken to mere specks. The hand slowly released him and he sat in the driver’s seat of the van staring at his master without a word. His master spoke and he let the information seep into his mind, past the consciousness held insensible and into the subconscious where the Plague made its home.
“Do you understand?” Pearce asked when he was finished, he began to sway slightly, as the pressure of his conscious mind fighting to regain control increased.
“Take them apart,” Addison nodded. “Destroy them all.”
Pearce dropped to the ground without another word and Addison slumped back against his seat. When the vampire awoke he scrambled to his feet and raced across the street and down the steps as the sun began to peek through the buildings to the East.
Addison opened the door and got out, frowning as the glass clattered to the ground from his lap. What the hell had just happened? He locked the van, seeming rather pointless now that the window was open, and marched across the morning street to the bar.
Niki raised her small shot glass. The other three did likewise. “To victory,” she smiled and downed the Rocky Mountain mix. The others followed suit. Pearce coughed as the awful stuff assaulted his throat. Both Logan and Addison smirked while Niki tapped the bar for Hobbs to mix another round.
This time, when the glasses were raised, the Watcher made the toast. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with each of them individually, finding Pearce last. “To the War.”
Logan frowned and looked to Niki, but she had nothing but the most nostalgic expression behind her eyes. “To the War,” she repeated in unison with Pearce and they both downed their drinks.
Logan blinked for a moment, then drank, swallowing hard.
Two days later found Niki in bed alone again, getting up to close the window which had been left open. Addison had returned to London, feeling the immediate crisis averted, leaving only the message ‘Listen to Pearce,’ on the whiteboard on the fridge. Niki tried to bring herself to feel sad that he had gone, but she could not. She had always felt him convenient to have around, like a helmet or a safety net. But this time he had come and they had solved the crisis without him. Maybe they were ready. Maybe she was ready to grow up after all.
As she stared out her window, she wondered where all the little creatures below her were going. Did they know how close they had come to destruction. Could they know? She laughed. Would they believe?
Logan got dressed as he always did in his other life. Khakis, white button up shirt... and his blazer was on the couch downstairs.
Rachel stirred in her sleep and moved a hand across the warm spot where Logan had lain for the last three hours. As the alarm clock just now began to play the local news station, Logan gave a glance at the mirror and then walked straight out of his room.
He stopped on his way down the hall and carefully poked a head into the first room on the right. The ten year old girl therein didn’t see him. She was still in her nighty, busily combing her hair in front of the mirror. He shook his head. It was only in moments like these that he regretted the life he lived. Hanna deserved better than him. She deserved better than this world, which he fought to keep safe for her. Rachel could not understand. She could never know. And neither could his daughter.
He trudged down the steps and started the pot of coffee, glancing at his watch. Where are you now? he wondered.
Pearce grinned. The right adjective abandoned him. This was more than... this was... He just grinned. The condo was more than luxurious. It was a palace. When the Council went to town, they really went to town.
His heart glowed as he took in the vast network of rooms. All the windows had been covered in thick drapes, all nailed to the walls. Not a crack of light entered from the outside, but candles adorned every table top and chandelier.
The vampire shook his head... and just grinned.
Addison slowly closed the portfolio. Everything was in order. As the Council adjourned for the day, Sir Kyle Raleigh walked next to him to the door. The Council members were pleased with his decisions in America. Not only was Niki’s performance improving, but she was actually starting to warm up to Pearce’s ideas, which were nothing short of Council protocol.
“This reflects rather well on you, I should think,” Kyle said stolidly. “I shouldn’t be surprised if they gave you a promotion.”
“I’m not in this for glory, Sir Raleigh,” Addison said just as cooly. “I’m here to make sure the Slayer can take care of herself.”
“Of course, of course. I meant no offense.” The two turned the corner and found themselves walking alone down the hall towards the library. “How was your flight? Do you still get jet lag?”
Addison stopped, turning fully to the knight beside him. He blinked for a moment, feeling like the world was somehow becoming clearer, more contrasting. He closed his eyes. “Yes... yes I do.”
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