Reckless: Season 2: Blind and Dangerous - Act 3
by redmoon
Blind and Dangerous - Act 3
Logan yawned despite himself. It was later than usual, and his day had been anything but boring. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he blinked away the fatigue. It wouldn’t do to crash now, not after everything.
The young man sitting in the passenger seat had spent the afternoon meditating with him, explaining to him the rudimentary Buddhist methods of controlling his power. Apparently there was some very amusing paradox involved with this, but Logan didn’t understand it and probably wouldn’t for a good twenty years.
The conjurer still had a very long way to go before completely mastering the power he wielded, but Oz assured him it would happen and he would go on to do... great things. Logan couldn’t help but worry about the way Oz had said that, but the prospect of controlling the power that frightened even him was appealing. As it turned out, even introductory intensive meditation was exhausting and Logan looked forward to getting home and sleeping for a good eight hours.
The streetlights flashed by above them and a miserable rain began, pattering all over the windshield and scattering the orange light.
“Feel like stopping for a drink?” Logan asked, glancing for a moment to his red haired passenger. The smaller man slowly shook his head. He had some unidentifiably troubled look in his eyes.
“No, I think you should get home.” The young man swallowed. “I don’t know what’s keeping Loki... would you mind if I crashed on your couch?”
Logan considered the ramifications of bringing home a stranger at this hour. He thought of Rachel’s reaction and smirked. “Only if you don’t mind some company,” he chuckled for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Uh... yeah. Sure you can crash.”
Oz nodded with distant gratitude. The little brown car pulled into the driveway to find all the lights already out. Logan reached for his black umbrella and opened the driver’s door, only to find the rain had momentarily let up.
He led Oz up to the front door and fumbled with his keys, unlocking it and marching inside making little attempt to be quiet. He may be late, but it was still too early for Rachel to be in bed. As a matter of fact... Hanna should still be awake.
Logan’s blood suddenly ran cold. Motioning Oz to be quiet, Logan very quickly and quietly removed his khaki jacket and kicked off his shoes, making his way silently up the stairs. Despite Logan’s gestures, Oz followed, unsure of what he expected to find.
Walking on the edges of his sock feet and avoiding the places he knew the floor creaked, Logan moved down the dark upstairs hallway, coming first to Hanna’s bedroom where some dim light could be seen under the doorway.
Without a word, Logan pushed the door open and stepped inside, his toes feeling numb. He called on everything he had learned today about his kaya and the sunyata, but it all seemed very far away as he entered his daughter’s bedroom. Oz stopped at the top of the stairs and waited, looking uncertainly over his shoulder into the darkness.
Logan let out his breath at last as his eyes fell upon Hanna, sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed, holding her knees to her chest, crying.
“Honey,” Logan said gently, squatting down next to her and reaching to take her into his arms. “Honey, what happened? Is your mom okay?”
Hanna resisted Logan’s hug, her tear-stung eyes narrowing to anger. “You— you said you killed her,” she sobbed, giving him a hard shove in the shoulders. She laid her head in her arms wiped her tears away with her sleeves.
“What are you talking about?” Logan asked, his worry growing again. “Killed who?”
“That demon!” Hanna shouted at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “You killed her! It’s your fault! I thought she was dead!”
“Honey, listen to me!” Logan took Hanna with a firm grip by the shoulders and shook her gently once. “Who’s dead?” he asked, looking firmly into her blue eyes.
“Matt,” she swallowed hard, trying to keep back more tears. After a moment of staring into her father’s uncomprehending eyes, she collapsed into his shoulder and cried. “Matt!” she sobbed. “He’s dead— I s–said I wished he would just die and he did!” She gripped her father’s shirt in white knuckled fists. “There was a demon there, she said— she granted my wish and Matt died!”
Logan gently stroked his daughter’s hair, his jaw tight. His hands trembled as he held her tight. There was nothing — no chance at all of keeping Hanna out of this. He had tried. He had fought and killed to keep her out of this world: out of this grief. Something much more powerful than he was fighting against him. But it would fail.
“I take it back,” Hanna sobbed, holding Logan tighter and tighter. “I take it back I take it back I didn’t mean it!”
Logan swallowed, slowly lifting his gaze to the ceiling and the uncaring god above. He slowly shook his head, his eyes burning with hate.
“Logan!” Oz dashed into the room, his eyes wide. “We have to go– we have to...” He frowned as he saw the girl Logan was holding. His jaw slowly dropped. “...What year is this?”
“What’s wrong?” Logan turned quickly, standing and bringing his daughter her feet.
Oz shook his head and concentrated on what mattered. “We have to get out of here. It’s time—” he tapped the watch on his wrist.
“Time for what?” Logan frowned, still holding Hanna’s head against his shoulder.
“Time will tell,” a voice said from behind them. Logan and Hanna slowly turned to see what Oz was looking at. The conjurer’s eyes widened and Hanna bit her lip, trying not to make a sound.
Niki’s teeth sank into her bottom lip, trying to hold back the scream. Then he plunged into her again. And again. And again, harder. His groans filled her, his heartbeat was as fast as hers. He had never been this good. Never tasted like this.
Loki kneaded her flesh with fingers which burned to the touch. Her skin slid under his fingers, slick with hot sweat. His lips drew her into his mouth, suckling, gently biting as he slammed hard into her again and again, his force racking her body. Sparks of pleasure crackled from his hands as he used them on her.
Her hands slid down his back, holding him against her, pulling him always closer and deeper as the heat of him filled her with every pulse. Never been this good. Even their first time — her first time with a real man, had been nothing compared to this. His every look brought her to the peak, the electric desire of his skin on hers was ecstacy.
She had long since forgotten where they were. She knew somewhere in her mind it was not where they had started. As crazy and stupidly romantic as it sounded, she could swear they really had been moving the Earth.
He had taken her to one of the sleazier demon bars with only one thing in mind. When he had touched her naked form again for the first time in twenty years, the bar had faded and he had been kissing her on the bridge in moonlight. She had returned his kiss and found herself exploring his new body in a silver field. He had spread her thighs and kissed her there on a rolling red ocean by a bleeding sunset.
He thrilled her now on the edge of a high cliff above a foaming sea. But her eyes were closed and she couldn’t hear anything but his breath and heartbeat. She sucked in a breath and held his head to her neck as he feasted on her flesh, her hips jerking to his rhythm.
When she finally came down from the sky and his electric touch numbed, they were laying on the bed in the back of the bar, sweating on sheets without a crease in them. Niki laid her head back from his lips and tried to catch her breath, the hum of his power shivering through every ache in her body.
His chest heaving, he slowly laid himself down next to her on the bed which had never been used.
“Logan, I thought... I thought you said you couldn’t do this anymore.” She said between gasps for breath.
His hand ran up her glistening stomach, trailing sparks which made her flesh quiver. “Did it seem to you like I couldn’t?”
In the darkness, they left the bar still flushed and walked hand in hand through the light rain. Niki was looking ahead and Loki was just staring at her. They crossed the street and took shelter in the doorway of a small shop.
After a long while of staring into the damp night, Niki turned to the man she knew as Logan Kilpatrick. “You would never lie to me, would you?”
Loki frowned. He had been treading on new ground since he had decided to kiss her. “Of course I wouldn’t.” Logan wouldn’t lie to Niki. Loki lied to everyone. “I love you,” he brushed the damp hair from her face.
She hugged the leather jacket tighter around her, turning back to the night. “I don’t want to die,” she said at last, her eyes seeking comfort in the blackness. “I don’t care about prophecy or the next Slayer. I’m not ready.”
Loki’s frown deepened and he held her tighter. “Of course you’re not ready. You’re not going to— who said you were going to die?”
Niki’s eyes continued to search the darkness, cones of rain illuminated by the streetlights. “Whistler. Those Council guys. Everyone says I’m going to die— says I have to die.”
“Well everyone should keep their mouths shut.” Loki ground his teeth. “You’ll figure this out, Niki. You’ll find them and everything will be okay for you.”
The Slayer blinked as she scanned the darkness, catching movement in the shadows. “Find who?” she asked absently.
“The Deceivers,” Loki answered without thinking. Instantly he closed his eyes and cursed himself. He let his arm fall from her shoulders as she turned to him with suspicion.
“I never told you I was looking for them—” she took a step back and swallowed hard. “Who the fuck are you?”
“There they are!” a voice shouted out of the darkness. With the tromping of wet boots, Niki and Loki found themselves faced with a dozen men and women, some holding guns, some holding radios and some holding their hands out and speaking quietly in Latin.
“Niki Valtaine, by the authority of the Council of Watchers, you are hereby taken into custody until such time as it is determined—”
Loki swept his arms down to the street and a roaring wall of flame rose up between the line of men and women and the Slayer and conjurer.
“I’m Logan,” Loki insisted, beads of sweat appearing on his brow. “You can either trust me, or—”
With a hiss, the wall of flame died down and four women stepped out of the night, their hands raised before them.
“Back off,” Loki commanded, but they waved off his power, and continued their approach. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Loki warned. “Seriously, because I don’t know what that would do to history...”
“History?” Niki glanced quickly from the man in the khaki jacket to the advancing witches. “What the hell is going on?”
Loki looked from one witch to the next, judging each according to her power. Impressive, even for the Council. Behind them were men holding guns, ready to take out anything that got past the members of the coven.
His heart pounding, Loki closed his fists and closed his eyes. He knew how it was supposed to end, but he couldn’t decide how much he was supposed to influence it. He obviously had no memory of this and didn’t want to screw anything up... Then again, he’d never been one to second guess himself. “Fuck it.”
Logan swept his hands down his body, dissolving the glamor which cloaked him. Standing now in a ruffling white silk shirt and tossing his shoulder length blond hair from his face, he faced off against the four witches who had come to end him. Unlike them, however, he knew he would be alive tomorrow. He also knew some things about Niki he would rather not tell her.
His eyes glowed yellow while the eyes of the witches darkened to black. The ground trembled beneath them and the rain intensified. With a pained buzzing, the streetlights brightened, then went out altogether.
Oz slowly stepped in front of Logan and the girl he was holding. His movements were careful and calculated. With a gentle but firm hand, he pulled the conjurer and teen back towards the bedroom door, all three of them keeping their eyes on the demon which watched from near the window.
“Give it to me,” the muscular form ordered, raising the branch it held and shaking it menacingly.
“Give what to you?” Logan asked bravely, taking his cue from Oz and maneuvering Hanna behind himself.
“It thinks your Loki. It wants Wilson,” Oz whispered over his shoulder as he stood in a defensive position between the two Kilpatricks and the thing which had come to kill them all.
“Who’s Wilson?” Logan whispered back. “You never got that far.”
“We have to go,” Oz warned. “We’re no match for this thing.”
Their eyes all remained locked and they all took a step back as the Timekeeper took a step forward. As it moved forward, it seemed to move through a dozen shadows each time it came again into the light it was slightly different: Beginning as a bull of a creature with muscles upon muscles, it became, upon the completion of its stride, a wizened old man, with a beard reaching down to the cord which tied the waist of its cloak. Its eyes were sunken and grey, its branch bare and brown.
“Give it to me,” the creature commanded, taking another step forward. This time it changed again, cycling through skeletal and halting at the strength and slenderness of youth. It shook its stick again and this time Logan felt a distinct pressure between his temples. He blinked but the shaking and quivering of the leaves continued, filling his brain with pressure.
“Dad...” Hanna had her eyes closed now and her face was buried in his shirt. He knew she felt the pain as well. But it wasn’t enough. He was scared, for sure, but his toes were anything but cold and his palms were clammy. He was empty. Not now he pleaded, glancing up with a resentful appeal to the ceiling he had cursed earlier.
“Get her out of here,” Oz ordered, his gaze fixed on the advancing demon. The young red haired man took no further steps back. “I’ll hold him off until Loki gets here.”
“What are you gonna—” Logan began, then watched as the young man before him began to change. Logan turned and pulled his daughter from the room, not particularly curious to see what Oz was when he was threatened. Logan had seen enough good people turned into monsters for one lifetime, himself included.
He hurried down the dark stairs, Hanna still clutched against him. He realized once he got to the bottom that he had no idea where she would be safe. The safest place he could think of was with him — but that was the least safe place while this demon was hunting him.
He glanced over his shoulder and heard a wolf howl. He shuddered, not sure if it was Oz or the demon making the noise. Something fell hard upstairs. Logan flung the door open and led Hanna into the back of the car. It was still raining.
Pausing and looking at her face through the car window which now separated them, he thought hard. Get in the car. Drive away. Save Hanna. He looked back up over his shoulder to the dark window which was Hanna’s bedroom. Go back upstairs. Fight the demon.
He looked back down to the glass and the eyes of his daughter. He knew she could read his face. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was going to do. He slowly inclined his head as an unspoken apology. With a snap of his fingers, he was back in her room, grabbing the demon by the back of the shoulders, trying to throw him as one would throw a bus.
With an earsplitting scream, the now skeletal demon turned and struck Logan across the face with the dead stick, sending him to the ground. From there Logan could see Oz pounce. A sudden nausea overwhelmed him and he blacked out.
Loki reached out in the darkness as the chanting of Latin grew louder. He took the Slayer by the hands and took a deep breath. “Time to decide,” he announced, his tone remaining patient. “Trust me or don’t.”
Niki swallowed. It wasn’t Logan. She knew that now. He looked like Logan... almost exactly like Logan. But it wasn’t Logan. A terrible though made her shiver inside the warmth of her leather jacket. One of the Deceivers? The sickening feeling which she knew would accompany the identity was there. Was this the real Logan? Had the other Logan been a deception? “Trust you?” She asked with unbelievable disdain.
Loki flashed a grin. “Good enough for me.” He gripped her hands and pulled her against him, engulfing them both in a twist of light.
Before she could register what had happened and resist, she was looking at him in a new light. No longer the orange glow of distant streetlights, but the grey light of dawn. He stood with her hands in his, his grin still spread across his face.
“You’re here,” he said still gazing into her eyes. He watched as she looked around. Her eyes widened as she turned from him and saw that they were standing in front of a large warehouse. The warehouse. The one she remembered. “Thanks for trusting me.”
She jerked her hands from his and took a step back. “You’re one of them? A Deceiver?”
Loki laughed out loud. “I’m a liar,” he pulled a silver pocket watch from his khaki pants glanced at the time, “that’ll have to do.” As she continued to watch him with uncertain caution, he grabbed her by the shoulder and drew her in for a long kiss. He finally pulled his lips close to her ear and whispered. “It’s been a blast.”
With a smile to have seen her again for the last time, he was gone in a twist of light.
Niki turned to the big double doors of the warehouse and took in a deep breath. She would have to tell Logan... if there really was a Logan, that someone was masquerading as him. She would have to tell him... she really would...
But her feet carried her towards the warehouse, her eyes fixed on it. Whatever that demon with the stick had done... it had been the most accurate predictor of the future Niki had ever known. Seers... witches... prophets... none of them would have told her she would be standing before this warehouse now. None of them could tell her what she would find inside. For all their foresight, they were as in the dark as she was. But they weren’t here. It wasn’t their futures they predicted and argued over, gambled with and dished out in random code. It was hers.
Another silk shirt ruffled in the cool breeze not far away. The figure wearing this shirt was dark, close cropped black hair, his pants black and his collar tied with blue silk. He watched, rapt, as Niki reached for the handle of the door.
With a little smirk, he turned away and headed for his appointment. It was almost time.
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