Chapter 84: Taylor and the Boys make plans...

Repetition of prayer was unlikely to make any real difference. Nor was variation from religion to religion. Rachel knew that, but prayed anyway. There was nothing else she could do.

The warding circle still held strong. She still couldn't see Alex through her connection as his guardian. The decidedly unwelcome physical arousal he had experienced earlier had finally ceased a short time ago, but nothing else had changed. The ritual that bound Rachel to Alex would only share his pleasures; nothing else was conveyed by the bond. That he was in danger was without question, but as his guardian angel, she should have known much more on that score than anything their ritual bond would convey.

Unfortunately, all that was blocked. She was trapped. All she could do was pray unless her captors died or relented. Despite her frustration with them, it was clear that they had Alex's best interests at heart. She wished them no ill will. She just wanted this motherfucking warding circle to vanish, for the love of God and –

--and just like that, it did.

Rachel looked up, stunned. The wax, salt and ashen circles remained, but she could feel her freedom. She didn't feel any need to question the opportunity. Rachel's wings spread wide, and in a heartbeat she shot like a ghost through the ceiling, through the apartment above it, and into the night sky.

For late September in Seattle, the sky was surprisingly clear. Rachel could see stars. She could see the moon. She didn't really spare them any appreciation, though, because she still could not see Alex.

That meant her relief was only partial. Rachel flew to his home, covering miles in mere moments, but as she expected there was nothing to see there. If anything, there was less than nothing. Everything looked perfectly in place. Rachel scowled, swore bitterly at nothing in particular, and soared into the sky again.

Rachel flew up until she could see the whole of the Seattle metro area beneath her. If Alex's captors had immediately put him on a plane or sent him through some magical portal, then he was long gone. That meant she was still reliant on the hope that whatever obstruction there was over her sight of him would be lifted before it was too late. Barring those possibilities, however, there was only so far he would have been taken.

Rachel hovered in the sky and watched the land below for any sign of her love. With any luck, it would be something bright, shiny and easy to spot.

************

"This oughta make 'em shit their pants," Wade declared grimly. He looked over their collective handiwork on the vampires' SUV. The interior behind the driver's seat was absolutely soaked dripping with oil and gasoline. Gas-soaked newspapers and other combustibles were stuffed into the back and everything useful to the crew had been stripped from its insides.

"If we can get it close enough," Jason scowled.

"We'll get in. Only two guards at the front gate from the looks of things. I gotta tell you, it's damn easy t' get complacent when you're guardin' someone else's party in whut should be a quiet area."

"Anyone still not down with this?" Drew asked.

"I'm down," Taylor put in, "but I've got a question. Wade isn't driving this thing in, 'cause he's gotta be ready to follow in and cover with the gun, right?"

"Yup," Wade nodded. "It's gotta be Jason or Drew."

"I'll do it," Jason said firmly.

"Rock paper scissors for it?" Drew asked.

"Uh, guys," Taylor broke in, "Drew hardly ever drives."

"She's got a point," Jason frowned. "Guess it's gotta be me."

"Yeah, but Jason – do you know how to drive stick?"

Jason blinked. "Oh no," he groaned. His eyes darted between Drew's and Wade's, and then he covered his face in his hands. "No. Seriously, Taylor, you can't."

"No way," Wade shook his head.

"Uh-uh. No. Not doin' it, girl," Drew said firmly.

"It's gotta be me, guys," Taylor pressed. "It can't be Wade and it can't be Drew, and Jason would break his neck anyway."

"I would not!"

"You would, too. You've never done anything like this. And you're the only one besides Wade who's ever even handled a gun. The only two of us who can even maybe handle something like this are Drew and I, and we don't have time to get Drew used to driving this thing."

"Oh, like you have done something like this before?" Jason countered.

"I've got a much more applicable skill set than anyone else here, yes," Taylor said. "I'm not calling you a wimp, Jason. I wouldn't do that, because I know better. But we've got to run with what we've got, and that means I'm the best candidate."

"Wade," Drew frowned, "this plan sucks ass all of a sudden. We need a new plan."

"You got one? Ah'm listenin'."

Drew scowled, looking warily at Taylor. "It's a lot to do all in a heartbeat, and you're gonna be really exposed."

"I know," Taylor swallowed. "He'd do it for any of us. We wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Alex doesn't know how to drive stick, either," Jason muttered bitterly.

"Okay," Drew said after a deep breath. He looked at Wade. "I got one change to the plan."

************

"Now is not the time for changes, Mr. Warren," Lord Blackthorne said through gritted teeth as he smiled and applauded.

Lady Anastacia stood ahead of Blackthorne at the landing of the grand staircase, graciously accepting the applause of her undead people and their sorcerous guests. Beside the Lady stood Lord Stefan, who was turned ever so slightly to show that his own applause was also for Lady Anastacia.

The wide, ornate stairs rose up as a single incline from the broad and open foyer of the mansion, then split both left and right at a landing roughly twelve feet in the air from the bottom floor. There were dozens of vampires below her as well as the handful at the landing or on the stairs going off to either side from it. All thirteen members of the Brotherhood were present in the foyer as well, mostly in a clutch not far from the oaken double doors leading outside.

"These matters do not run on a precise schedule, Lord Blackthorne," Warren explained.

"You didn't realize that you had to watch Carlisle more closely when you were downstairs with him?"

"I did not expect to be roped into these formalities, good sir. I need only your approval and someone who can open the door for me downstairs."

Blackthorne turned, not quite allowing himself to scowl. "Jack, take Warren here downstairs to look over Carlisle." He glanced at the robed mage, and then back to the vampire in the pin-striped suit. "You and the gentlemen downstairs with you may use your best judgment if anything... unexpected should happen."

"Gotcha," Jack nodded. "Come on, Merlin," the vampire sneered. With that, they headed for the top of the staircase. They would have to take the servant's stairway down again to avoid disrupting the proceedings as they passed.

"My people, and my honored guests," Lady Anastacia began as the applause finally died off. "I believe we can all agree when I say that tonight has been a long time in coming. The unfortunate tension between us has always been a tragedy to me, one that I longed to resolve with friendly overtures and understanding. Lord Stefan and I have both worked to bring our respective peoples under a single unified society. Others of my kind have tried this in the past in other cities, in other lands, and failed. There were those here who naturally had their doubts; I do not hold their trepidation against them, for their loyalty was never in question.

"Yet it was not until we found for ourselves a common task and a common ally that our two peoples could truly establish a first, vital common ground. For that, we must give our thanks to our honored guests, Mistress Lydia and Lord Ba'al." She gestured to one side, where Ba'al stood with Lydia clinging to him like an accessory. The pair accepted the applause with only the slightest nod. Beside them, forced to her knees and held tightly by her chains, was Lorelei. Her hands were under one of Ba'al feet.

"It is my hope that our simple errand for our two guests will be but the first of many shared tasks," Lady Anastacia went on, "through which we will build our trust and our community."

"What will you do when I return to the Pit?" Ba'al murmured to Lydia. Anastacia continued on in her speech, but neither demon was really interested.

"It's a good question," Lydia said, shamelessly tracing kisses up the side of his neck. "I have to finish off dear Alex, of course. Beyond that, I thought I might destroy Anastacia here and claim her power base for us. I'm sure you would enjoy having your own army of the night on Earth," she grinned, then laid her head against his shoulder. I simply cannot decide which to do first. They both seem like so much fun."

"Deal with Alex first," Ba'al grunted. "I am eager to re-educate Lorelei here as to where her loyalties lie."

Lydia hummed in agreement. "It's a pity you couldn't stay longer to reinforce my loyalties once more, master."

"It's a pity I have to wear this fleshy form instead of giving you the sort of fucking you deserve. Sometimes I envy Harrow."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"On the roof, keeping watch. You know how he is." Ba'al yawned. "At any rate. Please take care of Alex first. Then play around up here all you want. This diversion costs me souls in the short run, and I would like to have you get back to your work, but I can certainly see the value in what you might acquire for me through all of this."

"As you wish, master."

At the bottom of the stairs, standing at the outside of the clutch of Brotherhood attendees, Molly watched the whole thing warily. She listened intently to what Anastacia had to say while she studied the faces of the others on the landing.

"They're gonna make a move soon," Molly said into Onyx's ear. As she turned, she noticed that Onyx was murmuring something. In the palm of Onyx's hand was a die, only instead of numbers or pips it was marked with arrows.

"Things are about to happen. We need to move over there," Onyx said under her breath. "This is a bad spot for us."

Molly didn't need to be warned twice. She was the more experienced witch, with more spells and more time under her belt, but Onyx had an inborn talent for perception and divination. Molly took Onyx by the hand and led her through the crowd, excusing herself all the while, until they were closer to the periphery of the foyer where they could duck into a hallway if necessary.

"Christ, this is awful," Molly said aloud.

"We'll get him," Onyx replied. "When they try to get him out of here, there'll be fewer people to deal with. Just have to wait for the right moment."

"Not him," Molly corrected quietly, "her." She lifted her head up a touch to indicate the demons on the stairway above them. "Look at her."

Onyx lifted her eyes up to see the battered, muzzled succubus above them. Her head was bowed, but her body softly shook.

"She's crying," Molly observed.