Doubled Edge 8b/10

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Doubled Edge by Katt Solano
disclaimers & further hoopla in part 0
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Montgomery home
Hilo, Hawaii...

:~:Are you two done yet?:~: Jean asked. In dream state, he could link
stronger with his parents. Right now, it was almost like he was in Connor's
house, too.

:~:We're working on it:~: muttered Kay. Her infamous patience was drawing to
a close. They had been searching this underground room all night. There had
been a few possibilities but when Kay scanned them empathically, she felt no
trace of the Aerie on them. :~:If this wasn't so serious, I'd swear he's
doing this to get me back for that prank with the remote control planes and
the wild baboons in the Greek restaurant:~:

Luc tucked back the last of Connor's memories into its shelf. The Faberge
egg tottered for a moment before settling in its gold filigree stand. :~:I'm
stumped.:~:

:~:Get in queue:~: Kay glared at the priceless antiques, her gloved arms
crossed and her clawed hands tapping out an irritated tattoo on her biceps..
:~:I know we're supposed to be arcane and undetectable but this is
ridiculous!:~:

:~:We just have to think like Connor,:~: Jean said. At his persuasion, Kay
took another walk around the shelves of knick-knacks, letting him absorb the
sights through her eyes.

Luc smiled sourly. :~:Didn't I go through therapy so I _wouldn't_ think like
Connor?:~:

:~:Har-har, very funny. Ho-ho, it is to laugh.:~: Jean stuck Kay's tongue
out at his father. :~:May I remind you that should anything happen, _I'm_
the one at the top of the man's suspect list? You wouldn't want to lose your
favourite child, would you?:~:

:~:Give me a minute to think it over,:~: Kay rejoined playfully.

Continuing blithely, Jean split his consciousness between the basement of
the Montgomery home and the living room of his own condo, making sure that
John was still sleeping, breathing and in possession of all his limbs. :~:It
doesn't help that I have his son over. I feel as though I'll be shot through
the heart if so much as a splinter enters the boy's---Luc? Kay?:~: A sizzle
had passed through his parent's link, a blast of red surprise and turquoise
revelation followed by the muddy yellow streaks of self-deprecation.

:~:The boy!:~:

*  *  *
University of Hilo
Hilo, Hawaii...

Connor had parked the dark Honda in the shadows of the condo building.
Fortunately, Beauregard's condo was on the ground floor, making it that much
easier to watch. The Immortal closed his eyes, focusing himself,
balancing...

He could hear everything...

John had gone to bed an hour ago, just after two o' clock in the morning
following a marathon of movies, a session on cheating at poker, and too much
popcorn, chips, and soda. He could hear his son's soft snores floating out
of the living room, humming along with the electric fan that Tyce had
positioned at his feet. The older boy was in his room, tossing and turning,
but definitely asleep. Admittedly, he had been in excellent behaviour,
alternately joking and subtly teaching. If it weren't for the nagging
distrust he felt, Connor would have been glad to have Beauregard around.

He bit into his sandwich. Ham and cheese. And coffee strong enough to get up
and walk out of the thermos. He would be comfortable enough until dawn.

::You shouldn't be so complacent, Highlander.::

Connor rolled his eyes. ::When it comes to my family, Ramirez, I am _never_
complacent.::

::Oh, really?:: Connor could almost see that peacock throw his silly
feathered cape over his shoulder and place his hands on his velvet covered
hips. ::Then why have you not spotted those lurkers by the bushes until
now?::

The Highlander jerked up out of his slouch. Ice blue eyes scanned the lumpy
shapes and shadows made by the widely spaced street lamps. It was a cliché
but it was true: it was too quiet. The sound of insects and small rodents
scurrying had taken on an erratic pattern, as though they sensed a predator
was trying to escape. The chattering of the lizards, usually omnipresent,
was strangely lulled. The noisy war between the cats and dogs was muted,
concentrated to the houses blocks away.

Connor took a deep breath and focused tighter.

He was a tom perched on the railing of the apartment Beside Beauregard's. He
was going to hunt tonight, perhaps for some of those delicious lizards that
never seemed to decrease in population. But as soon as he left the comfort
of his pet human's home, the air had been literally charged; his fur stood
on end. It smelled dangerous. Perhaps if he stayed on the deck, the prey
would come to him and he wouldn't have to venture into the enemy's terrain.

Connor switched.

He was a gecko. At last, the ground was cooler under his belly, not cold
enough to make him sluggish but not so hot it scorched the tender skin on
his belly. Food was out by the millions tonight as it always was in this
terrain. He flicked his tongue out, scenting the air. Yes, tonight would be
another feast. But wait... Predator flashed in his mind and he scurried to
the safety under a bush. He tested the air once again. Many predators set
for blood. He would hide; he would escape to better hunting ground where
Predator would not be as thick.

Connor switched.

He was a German shepherd cross, awake and alert, on guard for his pack
leaders. His tail stood stiff and straight and he willed himself not to tuck
it between his legs. Something was going to endanger his pack tonight and he
wasn't sure if he would be able to fight them all. He called to the dog
across the street, a spunky Jack Russell. Yes, he had scented it in the wind
as well. The entire block did.

Connor switched back. Opened his eyes. There... ::What is that?:: A small
patch of fog thickening, collecting at the base of the wall near
Beauregard's deck. And another, creeping from the block kitty-corner to the
condo. More of the dirty white patches coalesced before his eyes, behind
trees and cars, gently rolling down the streets, floating down from the once
empty sky.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened the door, blessing Alex's abhorrence for
creaky noises that kept the hinges well oiled. With barely a crack to slip
through, Connor twisted his lithe form down to the ground, keeping to the
shadows where he knew the fog-creatures wouldn't be able to sense him as
well. He didn't know how he knew that nor did he care to analyse at that
moment. Hugging the concrete, he belly-crawled to the hood of the car and
peeked over the edge.

The patches of fog closest to the condo seemed to have hardened into solid
forms. Pale, pale people in white clothing ducked silently behind obstacles.
They looked like wraiths if wraiths were white instead of dark like the
fairy tales proposed: thin to the point of looking delicate, most of them
six and a half feet tall.

The one that had solidified first was now on the deck and attempting to open
the glass door. A spear appeared in his/her hand, a wicked looking thing
with a barbed head. Connor's heart lodged somewhere in the back of his
mouth, making breathing difficult. The first person those things would
encounter was John.

His katana slipped into his hand, his fingers sliding home into the grooves
of the tsuka. It was time for battle.

_________________________________________________________________
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