Ultimate Line Ch. 02

Baron appeared in his living room. The night at the lab had been long and he'd been unable to focus. The woman intruded his thoughts at every turn. The distraction baffled him. He had no idea what to make of it. Was she a friend? An enemy? Why and how did she invade his thoughts? None of it made sense and the more he thought about it, the more his head ached.

His head ached?

That never happened. Nevertheless, he'd been experiencing some discomfort for the past few hours. The need to lie down pressed hard against him. Entering into the master bedroom, he pressed a series of buttons on a panel in the wall. A door appeared in the wall. Tired and irritated he walked down the stairs into his sleeping chambers.

"I should have bypassed the stairs," he grumbled as the pain increased. Soft candlelight appeared, although he didn't need it. He had become so accustomed to blending in with humanity, sometimes he forgot to use his vampiric gifts. Instead of punching in the numbers, he waved toward the door. It locked tight. He floated to his bed and sat on the edge for a few moments wondering what was going on?

He sent a query to Rauff. "Is all well?"

"Not now, Baron." The man grunted, sounding breathless, or as breathless as a vampire can sound.

The pain in his head turned into a deep throb. He grabbed the sides of his head as the throb elevated into the equivalent of a vise tightening around his skull. He fell back onto the bed rolling from side to side in agony.

"Arrghh," Baron yelled as he hit the floor.

His lips tightened into a straight line across his face. Grinding teeth echoed in the room. Fast shallow breaths pumped through his quivering nostrils. His body shook as a leaf on a new twig in a gale. Muscles tightened in his jaw, snapping his mouth shut when he tried to scream. Writhing on the concrete floor, his flesh rippled and tore. Tears, mixed with blood, ran down his face as it contorted, bones shifted, reformed.

Clueless as to what was happening or why, he tried desperately to stop the agony and curled into a fetal position. Images flew beneath his closed lids. His head flopped rapidly, banging against the floor. Shuddering in denial at the last image, his head snapped back at an awkward angle. If he were human, it would've killed him.

An inhumane scream shot from his mouth as his chest and back twisted, pulling up from his lower torso. Fluids—possibly sweat—poured down his body. His back tightened and spasmed until he couldn't form a thought. Before the uttered plea to the Ultimate for assistance escaped his lips, his arms shot out.

He begged for death.

His lower torso pulled forward while his arms and legs chaotically hit the floor in an odd rhythm. A silent to scream escaped. His throat locked tight, refusing to allow any sound of freedom. A sticky liquid coated his body, drenching him as he tried to inhale through the pain. Rolling to the side to avoid his own filth, he cried as his eyes burned in his crackling skull. He was dying, Baron was sure of it. His body had betrayed him for hours.

Death, take me, he thought.

"Awwww," he howled hoarsely as a searing sensation hit his lower chest. Shaking, head thrown back, his back arched off the floor. His legs trembled under the weight until the burning ceased. What was happening? The question ran rampant through his mind before he slumped, falling into a deep sleep as the pain finally eased.

****

Baron woke physically drained. Mentally scanning his surroundings, he sighed in relief. The shields around his home were in place, although someone had walked on his property. More information of the trespass filtered through. Odd. Humans should not have been able to see his dwelling, let alone access it. The porch thorns had pulled a sample of their blood enabling him to identify the person.

The fact he accepted her presence on his property and didn't investigate the breach further said more about the mental and physical gymnastics he'd undergone in the past twenty-four hours than anything. His brainpower lay scattered on the floor. He had no idea, no point of reference to decipher what happened to him. He lacked the energy to examine any evidence and the will to make any determination. Simply put, exhaustion kicked his ass.

****

It was dark again. Lying still, Baron's mind went on full alert as he tried to decipher what happened earlier. Sitting on the cold floor, a putrid smell from somewhere to the right of him tormented his nostrils. He rolled to the left, surprised at the size of his hands on the floor. They were huge, like a bear's paw.

"What the fuck?" Kneeling, he noticed his head reached the top of the mattress of his high poster bed. Impossible. The height from the ground was the main reason he'd commissioned the construction of the four-poster bed. He used steps to access it every night. Twisting his neck, he stretched and stood.

"Hell," he yelled as he looked down. Somehow, he'd grown overnight. Standing in the middle of his room, he fumbled for the spectacles he kept on the side table. Not that he needed them to see. He used them as part of his wardrobe and was accustomed to putting them on every day. They didn't fit across his face. Holding them loosely in his hand, he ran to the mirrored vanity in the bathroom. His gaze slid to the extra large Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. He'd be making use of one of them soon.

Leaning forward, his breath caught at the reflection. He turned away in shock. A quick glance around the tiled room assured him he was indeed at home. Everything was as it should be... except him. Slowly he returned to the image in the glass.

"What the hell..." Reaching up, he gently touched his face. It was similar and different at the same time. The larger angular shape was familiar, but his eyes were now a lighter brown with red and gold highlights. They were more intense, as if someone dumped a hundred shades of color together to create this unique shade of brown.

Blinking, he couldn't believe the length and thickness of the lashes, and the slashing thick brows over his eyes. A slight shake to his head set a thick wavy curtain of brownish black hair with gold and light brown highlights in motion. After running his hand through it, he realized it fell down his back. He pulled a wad in his hand, rubbing the strands together. He yanked it hard and smelled it. Nothing special. Slowly, he released it.

As a man of science and vampire, he knew and agreed that there were things outside the box. However, this transformation stretched past that point. He had to see, touch and pull as well to believe. Pushing back from the sink, he studied his body. His legs were long and sculpted, as were his arms, muscles on top of muscles.

Hell, he was taller than Rauff and probably Lukian, the leader of the Sentinels. He lifted one arm, then the other. Forgetting to breathe, he completed a bicep curl. His muscles appeared to have tripled in size from just three days ago. His chest had expanded to twice its previous width, and probably matched Lukian's.

Turning to the side, he saw ropes of muscle trailed across and down his back and arms. Left arm lifted, he bent forward in an attempt to see a new mark on his lower stomach. Grabbing a small mirror from a drawer, he looked closer. It was an ancient Valdine symbol, signifying last.

Baron's legs buckled and he hit the marble tiled floor. Last, what did it mean?

"Nooooooo," he wailed.

He couldn't be the last of his race, he thought desperately. He'd just talked to Rauff last night at the club. He opened his senses and let out a sigh of relief. No, he wasn't the last Valdine. Standing, he walked into his bedroom and lay across the bed. Breathing deeply, he opened his mind to his line, to his brethren.

No answer.

He attempted to locate his linesmen Icar and Brevar again; although he hadn't seen them in centuries. Last he heard, they resided in the East somewhere. They preferred the Eastern culture and through the years trained with priests and monks. He had thought them invincible.

Closing his eyes, he waited for a sign of life from anyone of his line. Nothing. A yawning void filled him at the realization he might be the last of his line.

Just as the Jewish nation was split into twelve tribes, the Ultimate had divided the Valdines in the same manner after their arrival on Earth. They were promised there would always be at least one original person or one of their direct seed on the planet from each line. It appeared he was the last of his line. The thought numbed him.

After soaking in the whirlpool to ease the remaining aches, he showered, still amazed at how much more there was to him now. Feeling better, he foraged his closet and found a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt Lukian had left behind.

Dressed, he called out telepathically to Waliff for a meeting. Within moments, he stood before the Elder. Waliff's greeting area had a few scattered upholstered chairs, expressive artwork, and a desk off to the side. The marble floors gleamed with golden inlays that pointed in the direction of the meeting rooms. Baron had always thought they changed depending on the nature of the visit, but had no way of verifying his thought. Overall, it was an impressive room. One entire wall was transparent, allowing one to stare at the majesty of the mountainside behind it.

"Greetings, Claudius Baron," Waliff said from his seat behind the desk and waved to a chair nearby.

Baron offered a slight bow before walking toward the offered chair. He sat forward allowing the inspection that took place.

"Greetings, Elder Waliff, it's good to know my scent is still familiar, I was unsure if I would be recognized in this new frame. Tell me, am I the last of my line?"

Waliff looked closely as if inspecting a valuable antique. "It appears so. I see your entire line reflected in your stare and your appearance." He steepled his fingertips beneath his chin. "I see the intelligence and patience of Council member Cull. I sense the strategic brilliance of Ian. Marias the Just winked at me. Icar and Brevar, bowed. Rhiannon, Sven, Bulgar, Halgreth, they are all there." He sighed blinking and sat back. "I saw them all plainly. You have an impressive line of healers, spellbinders, entertainers, fighters, builders, tempered with justice and wisdom."

Baron gritted his teeth. He hated not knowing. It went against his nature. That Waliff saw something that he'd missed aggravated his sensibilities. "Be specific please."

"You carry each individual in your initial line. That's probably why you are so tall, have the odd coloring of your eyes, the hair, the muscular frame." He pointed to each feature. "You've also obtained or have access to the knowledge each lineman held." Waliff tapped his lips as he stared thoughtfully. "You can probably kick ass like Brevar or move as fast as lightning like Icar."

Baron cringed at the imagery. "I abhor violence. This information does not please me at all." Despite the deep baritone of his voice, and the change of his body, he was still a scientist at heart. He planned to keep as much of himself as possible. Inwardly he groaned. Things had changed, he felt the jockeying inside, the tingles of memories that were not his, whispers of recognition.

Most of the names Waliff called out were legends amongst his people. He understood he had a responsibility to his line and needed to learn everything he could. But how to do that and maintain some semblance of who he was?

"With all the warriors, healers, diplomats and gifted ones in my line, I can't believe the last one to survive is the quiet Scientist. I've never been interested in fighting, the arts or medicine. My interest lies in discoveries, inventions, and things to assist us while we are here. I am humbled and honored by this selection," Baron said trying to reconcile what this meant for him, the changes and challenges it presented. The two men shared a quiet moment.

"We weren't sure how the Ultimate would accomplish such a feat. As usual, His ways are perfect. You are the walking embodiment of your entire line, and as you procreate we, as a people, live on." Pausing, he peered at Baron, "I trust the transformation was not too difficult."

Pushing back the painful memories he answered. "Hmmm, let's just say I never want to go through that again. It took three days and while I was in the midst of it, a human breached my security and knocked on my door." He'd been meaning to discuss the strange occurrence in the bookstore two weeks ago with Waliff and hadn't had the opportunity.

"Ah... explain please," Waliff requested and sat back in his chair, fingertips once again steepled beneath his chin.

"Let me start at the beginning, it may make more sense to you." He explained the initial meeting in the parking lot. Then the bookstore and the subsequent experiment on the sidewalk of the coffee shop. He explained he'd been following her from time to time to make sure she wasn't connected to the Hunters or the rebellion. Nodding his understanding, Waliff seemed surprised but didn't interrupt.

He waved at his body. "When I resurfaced into this, I noticed my security had been breached, which has never happened. The smell is the same as the human female from the bookstore a month ago."

Noticing Waliff had gone completely still, Baron leaned forward to make his point. "How could she see my resting place? Granted it's a house, but with all the electronic equipment and wards, it's not visible to the naked eye of any creature. She knocked on the wooden entry, how is that possible?"

"Was it deliberate? Was she looking for you?"

Baron paused in thought. "I don't think so. I got the sense she didn't realize the significance of what happened." Leaning back into the chair he attempted to get comfortable, wrestling with the long arms for a moment. Miffed, he settled them across his lap and resumed his speech. "Is this something that's common amongst our people? I mean I rarely socialize with anyone, especially humans, so I may be behind on some things."

"You said she paid Rauff no attention?" At his nod, Waliff frowned. "Hmmm, that's unusual; however, I confess I have not heard of such a thing. No, it is not just you. Tell me, were you attracted to her?"

"Attracted?" Tilting his head, he paused to think. "Attracted, yes. However, I believe intrigued to be a better word. Yes, that's it. It's not often I observe someone so different." He crossed and uncrossed the long legs in front of him. Aggravated, he stood and paced in front of the desk.

"This is ridiculous! I feel as though I need to relearn walking and moving. I'm this freakish giant with all this... this hair!" He stopped in front of the desk pulling a section of the thick mass. "My life has been quiet, unobtrusive. No one noticed me or paid me any attention. I had peace and quiet to gather data and conduct my experiments. Now, at over six and a half feet, with wild hair whipping around my shoulders, I stand out like a monster amongst lambs. I don't like it."

Waliff stared up at him, seemingly dazed at the ranting and transformation. "You have always been one of the most laid back Valdines in existence. No question about it, your temperament has certainly changed, you've picked up some of your line mates aggression. You resemble a warrior of old."

"Great, just great. Those were wicked days when men settled their differences quickly and without a lot of talk." Arms folded, Baron glared at Waliff from across the room. Admittedly, he felt better having his situation confirmed, but he needed advice on how to proceed as the last of his line.

"Happy?" he smiled as the older man's eyes refocused on him.

"Quite, what about you?" Waliff asked.

Sighing, he returned to his chair and eased into the seat. "What's expected of me as the last of my line, Waliff?" Worry threaded through the tone in his voice. "I mean besides stud service. I understand the procreation part."

He shrugged. "You are the first to ever reach this change. I'm not sure. However, there are some practical matters that we can attend to." Reaching over he picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers.

He spoke into the receiver. "I have a unique situation that requires your personal expertise. Can you make time within the next few minutes?" He paused, listening.

"We'll be there in a minute or two, side entrance. Have it cleared." He paused. "Thanks." Hanging up, he gestured for Baron to stand and follow him. The two walked toward the veranda and disappeared.

They reappeared in front of a red wooden door. After a momentary scan, it opened, and they entered. The hall opened into a sizable waiting area with large comfortable leather chairs, magazines on tables and a game area for small children. A muted television sat in the corner broadcasting news of the day. Waliff moved toward a perfectly coiffed, young woman. Latina, if Baron had to guess. Her smile made it apparent she knew Waliff, even as she looked Baron up and down.

"She's expecting you, Sir. Please go right in." She pointed toward a closed door while winking at Baron.

Waliff nodded his thanks as they walked forward, opened the door, and sealed it. Selma Ackland raised her brow at the sealing of the door. Her gaze slid to Baron. Her mouth dropped, and her eyes widened. The pen dropped as her hand covered her mouth. Her face tightened, as it leached color.

"Ian," she murmured. Turning toward Waliff, she rose slowly to meet him and his guest.

"No, Selma not Ian," Waliff rushed to explain. "Baron is the last of his line, which appears to be a culmination of his entire line. I'm sorry to distress you so." He reached out to offer comfort.

She nodded and stared at Baron.

He remained still, uncomfortable with the attention, and unsure how to avoid it.

"I know it can't be Ian, but I sense him, Waliff. I smell him." She walked over to Baron. "I see him in you," she whispered, her fingertips trailing along his arm.

Goosebumps exploded across his flesh.

"You're blushing. Do you have his memories as well?" she asked.

Baron turned aside, feeling like an interloper as intimate memories of her panting flashed before his lids. His eyes latched onto the patterns of the blue, gold, and crimson mosaic in the marble floor, while he attempted to beat back the heat threatening to choke him at her words.

He coughed to cover his embarrassment. "I'm, I'm not sure yet. This change happened recently, and I'm feeling my way." He hoped the awkward pat on her arm put her at ease. That flash of memory of her and his lineman rose so fast and clear; he couldn't help but stare at her and wonder at her flexibility.

In contrast to his linemen, Baron's sexual experience was indeed limited, and never extended to anyone outside his race. He wasn't sure what Selma was, but she wasn't Valdine or human.

"We have a dilemma," Waliff said bringing the attention to the purpose of their visit.

Baron was happy to have the interest removed from him. Then Waliff pointed at him. "He is no longer the same. Since we had no warning, there's no termination file in place. Also, we have no rebirth file for this transformation. What do you suggest?" he asked as she returned to her desk and slowly sat down.

Selma owned and operated the highest rated transition firm in the world. Unlike the movies, every species aged. They just didn't die like humans. They transitioned, and it was a big production. Companies like Selma's were masters at making the process smooth, from the funeral to reentry a week or month or so later. The cycle simply kept turning. She'd been doing it for centuries. Baron had used her company for years, although this was the first time he'd been in her office. They had little in common and had never had a conversation.

Typing some information in the computer, she looked up at Baron. He offered a tiny smile. Shaking her head, she continued typing.