Soul's Divide Ch. 02-04

"You wound me," she said, turning back to stare at him. And he could almost believe it. Her dark eyes held his with such tenderness that he almost rushed to embrace her.

He snarled and bared his teeth, willing himself to deny her hypnotic suggestion. "Stop that!" She was just toying with him, he knew. If she wanted, she could very easily bend his will toward hers.

She smirked and looked away. The tension was broken. "I've always marveled at your strength to deny me. You are the only one, Daniel. All my other children prostrate themselves in greeting."

"Then go bother them," he snapped. "And stop calling me your child."

She leaned back against the window and crossed her arms in front of her impressive cleavage. "I made you what you are. I am more a mother to you than the woman who gave birth to you. Of course you are my child." Her tone implied that Daniel was childish for arguing.

He gritted his teeth and tried his best to quell his annoyance. "What are you doing here, Amara?"

She raised one delicate eyebrow. "Do you think I've forgotten? Or that I wouldn't come to guide you? Only one month remains until your transformation. There is much I must do in preparation."

Daniel had forgotten. He stared at her as realization dawned on him. He had been so wrapped up in controlling his hunger that he didn't even consider why he was feeling hungrier all the time.

"You forgot?" she asked in genuine confusion. "You forgot that I made you 100 years ago next month?"

"I've had other worries on my mind," Daniel said, distractedly. He pressed his forehead against his palm and closed his eyes.How could I have forgotten about the transformation? I'm losing touch with everything important in my life.

"Still?" Amara said. She sounded genuinely concerned. "You still refuse to feed?"

"You know my feelings on this," Daniel replied, looking up at her. An age-old anger replaced the clouded thoughts in his head.

Amara sighed wearily, the perfect picture of parental disappointment. She even managed to look at Daniel with almost human pity. "After all these years, you still deny what you truly are. Why, Daniel? Why torment yourself like this?"

"Are we finished?" Daniel snapped, the anger in his blood forcing him to his feet. He clenched his hands by his side and tried to quell his anger. "I have work to do."

She didn't turn to leave; she only smiled at him, a smile filled with hundreds of years of patience. "How often do you feed?"

"Don't anger me," Daniel warned her. "I want you to leave. Don't make me force you out."

Fluttering papers. A hand around his throat. His feet dangling a foot off the ground.

"Children should have more respect for their parents," Amara hissed, her hand tightening around his throat. "Never threaten me, Daniel."

Daniel stared angrily into her dark eyes. The hand around his throat was more of a show of superiority than any physical threat. His lungs had stopped working years ago, after all. Still, as threats go, he had to admit this one carried a good amount of fear with it. She could rip his head off as easily as popping the lid off a pickle jar.

"Sorry," he growled. The word tasted like acid on his tongue. This was why one was wise to never anger Amara.

She set him down on his feet, her face almost shining with her pleasure. "That's better. I don't see why we can't be civilized. Now, answer me. How often do you feed?"

"About every six months," Daniel replied reluctantly.

Amara's eyes widened in shock. "Daniel! I can't believe this! You're very ill-prepared for the transformation! I don't even know if it will take...I have never heard of such a thing!" She walked away from him, shaking her head all the while.

"It was my choice," he reminded her. Civilly, this time.

"You haven't gathered enough energy for this. What you will become..." she trailed off, staring at Daniel in disbelief.

"Something even more monstrous, I don't doubt."

Anger replaced disbelief on that perfect face. "I'm glad I came when I did. You will feed every night from here on out, you understand?"

Daniel straightened the sleeves of his white coat and glanced up at Amara. "No. I'm not like you."

"Yes, you are!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "I'm tired of this childish...stubbornness! Embrace what you are!"

"And kill innocent human beings? How often do you feed, Amara? How many souls and discarded destinies lay at your feet?"

The anger receded slowly from her face. Daniel couldn't tell what emotion replaced it. "I feed every day. You know this, Daniel. There was a time, when you were first born, when we shared the same appetites. How I miss those days! Come back to me, my son. Come home."

Daniel turned away from her, away from the truth. A part of him did long to go with her. That part of him had immensely enjoyed the years of wild abandon, the constant feeding. So many lives lost because of him.

"I have work to do," Daniel said, softly.

Something in his voice must have finally penetrated her mind. He heard her walk to the door and then stop. "It's like I always told you, Daniel. We aren't human anymore. To continue to think like one will only bring you pain and misery. We are what we are. Does the lion mourn the death of the gazelle?"

Daniel fell heavily into his chair and looked over at Amara. "That depends."

She cocked her head to one side. "On what?"

"On whether the lion was ever a gazelle."

Amara stared at him for several long moments. She opened her mouth once and then closed it. She opened the door and then stopped. "Do you know why you're my favorite child? Why I turned you?" She continued to stare forward, as if she couldn't bear to turn around.

"Why?" Daniel sighed.

"Because you're the only person who can still make me feel human, even for an instant."

The papers fluttered once again on Daniel's desk and then lay still. Daniel leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the ceiling. As much as he hated her, he loved her just as much. The slight tremor in her voice at the end couldn't be faked, not even by the strongest hypnosis.

***

Chapter 4 - Echoes

June 13, 7:01 a.m.

It felt like Gabrielle had barely collapsed into her bed before jolting awake. Somebody was knocking insistently on her front door.

"Whoever is knocking," Gabrielle muttered as she kicked off her blanket, "on my front door," she continued, as she grabbed her robe off the closet door and tied it angrily around her waist, "is going to have their entrails pulled out through their nostrils."

She crossed the living room in long, angry strides and yanked open the front door. "What?" she snapped.

Roberts quirked up an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Long night?"

Gabrielle gritted her teeth. "Roberts, you better have a good reason for disturbing my sleep."

Roberts put his hand over his heart in mock pain. "Is that any way to talk to a beloved partner?"

"Roberts," she warned him, her voice soft and cool.

He finally got the hint; you just don't mess with a woman's beauty sleep. "We got a case, so get dressed."

"I'm off today," she reminded him with a not-so-pleasant smile. Roberts, damn him, looked neatly dressed, as always. His dark brown hair was, as usual, parted along the right edge of his head and swept neatly over to the left. He never looked unprepared for work.

"Hunting again last night?" he asked, his eyes and voice suddenly serious.

Her nostrils flared in anger; something in his tone made the comment more than a passing remark. "You followed me last night, didn't you?"

"Please, Gabrielle, unlike you I actually have a life." His voice sounded playful but she could still sense the undercurrents to his words that contradicted his tone of voice.

"You had me followed, then," she insisted. Her hand gripped the edge of the door hard as she fought to control her anger.

Roberts glanced away. "Come on, Gabs, let me in already."

Gabrielle swirled her head around, her hair snapping out behind her, and stormed toward her bedroom. Roberts could be dense sometimes, especially when it came to women, but even he would know what the hair flipping and angry walk meant. "Stop calling me Gabs," she snapped, as she walked into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Five minutes later she finished buttoning the cuff of her right sleeve and walked back into the living room. Roberts had helped himself to a cup of coffee and was sitting at the bar outside her kitchen.

Gabrielle ignored him and calmly poured herself a cup of coffee. He finally spoke while she fixed herself a bagel. "I was worried about you, especially after that close call the other night. I just wanted to keep a close eye on you, that's all."

"You still don't trust me," she replied, her voice as calm as the sea on a cloudless day. She took a bite of her bagel and stared at him directly. For once, she would not let her temper get the best of her.

Let's see how well he handles a calm and collected Gabrielle.

He seemed discomfited by her stare. "Of course I trust you. But...damn it, Gabrielle, you know what kind of heat I'm under. You're my responsibility. The Organization makes sure to constantly remind me of that fact that they assigned me to you in the hope that I would have a calming influence over you."

The bagel tasted like ash as she swallowed. She felt a momentarily flutter of fear in her stomach. "How high up?"

Roberts set down his mug of coffee and grimaced, as though it had just left a bad taste in his mouth. "The Director."

Gabrielle's bagel dropped from her suddenly numbed fingers. "TheDirector? The head of the whole Organization is keeping taps on me?"

Roberts shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "It's like I always try to tell you; we have to keep a low profile. The supernatural community respects our authority because we're neutral. We don't go around making waves and drawing attention."

"I'm just hunting vampires!" Gabrielle snapped, though her anger was tinged with fear. She hated being backed into a corner like this.

Come on, Gabrielle, be cool. Deep breaths.

Roberts raised his hands. "I know, Gabrielle, I know. But the Director feels that there is a difference between doing our job and going out and seeking trouble. Even the Ancients leave us alone, as long as we keep the vampire hunting under acceptable limits."

"Acceptable limits?" Gabrielle repeated, trying her best to sound calm. She picked up her bagel and took another bite, just to give herself something to do. She chewed slowly and calmly before continuing. "Who do those fucking vampires think they are to place limits on us?" So much for calm.

"We don't want to piss them off," Roberts said quietly. His coffee mug sat forgotten on the countertop. "They wield too much power for us to risk incurring their wrath."

"Their wrath?" Gabrielle snarled, her pledge to remain calm now completely forgotten. "What aboutmy wrath?"

An image of her mother popped in to her mind; the same image that haunted her all these years. Her mom's face bloody, her hand outstretched, reaching desperately for her daughter.

A white hot fire erupted inside of her. Every electric outlet in the apartment shot out sparks and every light bulb shattered as the electricity blew out with a sound like a giant groaning. Darkness descended on the apartment, broken up by small rays of sunlight peeking past the curtains.

Roberts rose slowly out of his seat, his hand outstretched, as though he was trying to calm a dangerous beast. In a way, he was. "Calm down, Gabrielle. Listen to my voice. It's ok. Just breathe out. Let it go."

The fire wanted desperately to escape, to burn the whole world to ashes. It was her fire to control and, at that precise moment, she wanted to let it out. She wanted it so bad that she had to bite down on her tongue until she tasted blood.

"Let it go," Roberts said calmly. He was always calm, unruffled.

The bitter taste of iron, of copper, filled Gabrielle's mouth as she nearly bit her tongue off. Slowly, ever so slowly, she closed her eyes and quenched the fire that wanted to destroy everything. And just like that, the fight went out of her. She slumped to her knees in exhaustion.

Roberts knelt down beside her. "You ok?"

Gabrielle hid her face behind the locks of blonde-streaked hair long enough to wipe away the tears. "Yeah," she said finally, once her emotions were back under control.

Roberts grabbed her under the elbow and lifted her back to her feet. "I didn't mean to bring up those memories."

"It's not your fault," she muttered. The apartment was too quiet. It was amazing how much of the silence electricity filled in. Without it, she could hear the wind blowing against the window.

"I don't like them, either," Roberts said. "The Ancients, I mean."

"Are they really so powerful?" Just the thought of having to play by their rules made her blood boil, threatening to reignite that fire again. Sometimes her hatred of vampires surprised even her.

"They're up near the highest tier of powerful beings," Roberts said, reluctantly. "They're small in number but big in power. Just be thankful they're too jealous of each other's power to allow more than a few to live that long."

"But we have powerful people in the Organization! The Director could swat them aside without blinking! Why should we be scared of pissing them off? We should wipe them out before they grow even more powerful!"

"We don't have as many power players as you think," Roberts replied, her lips twitching in amusement.

Gabrielle snorted. "That's funny, coming from one of the Five Swords of Judgment."

Some unknown emotion flickered briefly across Roberts face. The amused smile melted away like ice before the flames. "Let's not talk about that."

Gabrielle sensed some sort of power, of energy, briefly emanate from Roberts like rolling waves as he spoke. In the darkness of the apartment, she could have sworn she saw something almost fiery shining in his eyes.

Needless to say, she quickly changed the subject. "So what's the case? What's so important that it requires you dragging me along on my day off?"

The aura of power surrounding him vanished as quickly as it appeared. He sat up straight on the stool, clearly relieved at the change of subject. "This one's pretty nasty. It requires your unique skills."

Gabrielle knew what he wanted. He knew, also, what it would cost her. "Echoes?"

"Echoes," Roberts confirmed. His dark eyes stared at her steadily, gauging her reaction.

"It must be bad," she said, quietly.

He slid off the stool. "Let's talk about it on the way over."

***

Roberts, however, didn't seem very eager to fill her in on the details. "So what did you tell him?" he asked instead.

Gabrielle glanced out the car window and watched the scenery zip past. Of course Roberts would have known about Detective Pearson. The man he had following her would have seen her carry Pearson to her car and drive back to her apartment.

"I told him only what he needed to know."

"And what exactly was that?" Roberts asked, glancing at her as he drove along the highway.

Gabrielle whipped her head around and glared at him. "Do you really think I told him anything about the Organization? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Relax," Roberts said, soothingly. "I know you didn't tell him anything. I'm just surprised you took him back to your apartment. I mean, what were you thinking?"

Gabrielle had been avoiding that question. Whathad she been thinking? "I felt bad for the guy," she replied slowly, as she tried to work out her own thoughts. "He tried to rescue me."

Roberts snorted. "From what I heard, he almost cost you your life."

"He still tried to help," she snapped. She didn't even know why she was defending him. She had fun toying with him during the interrogation but certainly never thought to see him again. But when he surprised her during her fight with that vampire...

"We'll have to keep an eye on him," Roberts said. He glanced sideways at Gabrielle.

"Citizens are allowed to know about the things that go bump in the night," she reminded him. "We don't have the manpower to watch every person who knows about the supernatural world."

"The underground doesn't concern us," Roberts replied. "But a cop? We both know how dangerous that knowledge can be in the hands of law enforcement. There's power in that knowledge; power that doesn't need to be in the hands of somebody who already wields power over the population."

"What are you suggesting?" Gabrielle asked angrily.

"We're not going to kill him, if that's what you're thinking," he sighed. "You talk about trust all the time, Gabrielle. Well, that's a two-way street, don't you think?"

"Sorry," she muttered. Roberts was a good guy and a great partner. It was the Organization she didn't trust.

"Senior management has been thinking about setting up liaisons in the big city police departments. It's about time we starting using the police department instead of going around them."

"And you want to make Detective Pearson a liaison?"

"It would help if we had somebody on the inside. This city is too big to cover up everything that goes on. Does he seem capable? How did he handle the truth?"

"Surprisingly well," Gabrielle admitted. She had been very surprised at his humor and attitude toward the situation. It was quite impressive. She had to fight a smile as she remembered his crack about were-bears.

"Good," Roberts said, as he took the exit that led to the Compound. "I'm going to recommend you to be his contact."

Gabrielle wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

***

Roberts held open the door that said "MORGUE" and let Gabrielle walk past. Heavy metal music assaulted her ears as soon as the door swung open. She gritted her teeth and walked quickly to the source.

Stan had his back to her and was playing the air guitar, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Gabrielle slapped her hand down on the stereo and the music cut off at once. Stan spun around. "Hey! What are—oh, Agent Summers, I didn't hear you come in."

"It would have been a miracle if you did hear me," she said, irritably.

Stan nervously tucked his long, stringy hair behind his ears and avoided her gaze. He started when he spotted Roberts. "Agent Roberts, you here for the body?"

Roberts nodded. He looked highly amused by Stan's discomfort. "Don't worry about her, Stan. Her bark is much worse than her bite."

Stan laughed nervously and continued to avoid Gabrielle's eyes. "Keep it up, Roberts, and you will find out just how hard I bite," Gabrielle said, her voice dripping with poison honey.

"Sorry, Gabs, I'm already married."

Gabrielle growled in disgust and motioned for Stan to lead the way. He slid the body he was supposed to be working on back into the refrigerated compartment and led them down several more rows. He stopped and pulled open another compartment door and slid the metal table out. "Just came in a few hours ago. Nasty stuff."

Gabrielle took a deep breath and stepped up next to the table. Stan looked at her and waited for her nod before pulling back the sheet covering the body. Despite her years of experience at this sort of thing, her stomach never really acclimated itself to what could happen to a human body.

She flexed her stomach involuntarily and had to breathe out of her nose. The victim was a woman who looked to be in her 20s. Remarkably, her face looked perfectly fine, makeup still in place. Below her neck, however, was a different story.

What used to be the chest of a human female was now a gaping hole and shredded skin. Large, jagged claw marks had torn off most of her stomach. Even the organs inside had been torn apart. The largest hole was where the heart was usually located. It appeared the attacker had lingered there, as there was no sign of the heart or the surrounding flesh. Even the bones in the chest were missing.