New
Arrivals
Author-Vision
Titles
Crimson Moon
Part One
by Vision
Summary: As the moon turns red, so will the streets of Cascade....
Disclaimer: Canon characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Pet Fly and Paramount. I don't make any money etc. etc.
Vision sends Becky a big thank you for all of her work.
Glancing at his watch, Blair moved towards the stairway. Using his cheeriest good morning voice Blair called to Jim from the bottom of the stairs. "Jim. You're gonna be late, man. You better get your butt in gear. You're meeting that guy this morning, remember? Hey, sleeping beauty?" Eliciting no response from the detective, Blair bounded up the stairs. A broad smile appeared on Blair's face at the sight of his friend sprawled face down on the bed, his head turned away from Blair. "Let's go, Ellison. Only the bad guys get to sleep in." As he gave the bed a brisk shake, Blair's smile quickly faded. "Jim?" Placing a hand on Jim's shoulder, Blair gently rolled the larger man onto his back. Blood trickled from Jim's nose in a steady stream. "Oh my god! Jim!"
Jerking awake, Jim sat up quickly. "What? What's going on?"
"You're bleeding, that's what's going on."
In a flash, Blair bolted down the stairs and returned with a Kleenex box in hand. Passing Jim a wad of tissue, Blair plunked down on the edge of the bed. "Are you okay? Are you sick? Maybe I should call Simon."
"It's a nosebleed, Sandburg. No big deal. Just get me some ice."
Rolling his eyes, Blair mumbled. "For what? Your nose or that thick skull of yours."
Shooting Blair a warning gaze, Jim replied. "I heard that. just get the ice. I'm going to go get cleaned up." Pushing past his partner, Jim began to descend the stairs. "Are you going to get me the ice, or what?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Rising from the bed, Blair looked at the blood stained pillow case. His brow furrowed as he took in the bizarre pattern of red smeared on the bed clothes. A cross? It looks like a cross.
A loud voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sandburg! Where the hell is that ice?"
Stealing one last glance at the image, Blair retorted. "Coming, Jim. Be right there."
***************************
Extending his own hand, Simon gripped the stranger's hand in a hearty handshake. "I'm sorry Detective Ellison was detained. It won't happen again."
The black-haired man smiled as he tightened his grasp. "Nothing to be sorry about, Captain. I'm sure that whatever Detective Ellison needed to do was far more important than meeting me. I'll catch up with him after lunch. Do let him know that I'm looking forward to meeting him, won't you?"
Releasing the man's hand, Simon returned the smile. "Oh, believe me, Detective Ellison will be more than happy to assist you in any way he can."
As the man turned to leave, Simon growled under his breath. "If he lives that long." Taking the few strides to his office, Simon unleashed his pent-up anger on the door frame. The glass rattled as he slammed the door behind him. Situating himself behind his desk, Simon began busying himself with the many file folders that littered his desk.
***************************
Jim strode into the bullpen, Blair practically jogging to keep up with him. A hush fell over the room as Jim entered. Rafe and Brown shook their heads in unison. Stopping in mid-step, Jim fixed his eyes on the ceiling. "I missed him, didn't I? How mad is he? Don't answer that."
Whistling, Rafe motioned towards the office. Walking at a much slower pace, Jim hesitated in front of the office door. Rafe swiped a finger across his own throat, mimicking a beheading. "Funny, Rafe, very funny."
Inching the door open, Jim used his free hand to tap timidly on the door. "Good morning, sir."
Slamming the folder down on the desk, Simon bellowed. "Is it? You could have fooled me. Do you have any idea what I've been doing for the last hour? I've been dancing, correction, I've been dancing and juggling at the same time. Where the hell have you been?"
Giving Sandburg a "stay put" glare, Jim entered the office. "Home. I had a little set back this morning. I'm sorry, sir."
All at once the room began to spin wildly. Leaning heavily against Simon's desk, Jim tried to steady himself. Focusing on a framed picture of Simon and Daryl that sat on the desk, Jim watched with unbelieving eyes at it moved across the desk towards him. Closing and then re-opening his eyes quickly, his vision began to clear. Simon's hand rested on his shoulder, a look of grave concern on his face. "Jim? Are you okay? Maybe you better sit down. I'll get Sandburg."
Pointing at the picture on the desk, Jim replied shakily. "Did you see that? The picture, it moved."
Jim cringed as Simon flung open the door. "Sandburg, get in here, NOW!"
***************************
Please don't touch me, Blair You're hurting me.
Blair stared at Jim's sleep-slackened features replaying the words over and over in his head. Jim had actually flinched away from him when he had tried to steady him for the walk down to the truck. The keys had been dropped in Blair's hand without any physical contact being made. The ride back to the loft had been made in complete silence, both men lost in their own misery Jim shifted restlessly on the couch, and Blair fought the urge to comfort him.
Staring at his own hands, Blair curled his fingers into tight fists. The hands that had always grounded and soothed his Sentinel, had now become a source of unrelenting pain. Blair had prided himself on his ability to calm the older man. Now, as he watched Jim fight whatever demons haunted his dreams, he was powerless to help him.
Touch was one of Jim's strongest abilities, the one that Blair had always been the most envious of. He had often wondered what it would be like to "feel," not just "touch" the world around him. He remembered the moment when Jim had taken his hand and smoothed it along the edge of a car, daring him to feel any imperfections in the metal. For a split second Blair had understood what it must be like to be so in tune with one's surroundings. Although he had not been able to detect any dents or scratches in the car, he had felt Jim's willingness to share his extraordinary gifts.
Although Jim had been asleep for over an hour now, and showed no signs of waking anytime soon, Blair refused to budge from his position beside him on the floor. If nothing else, he could watch over his Sentinel until such time as he had regained his strength.
Blair's mind flitted back to the morning's events, starting with the episode with the blood stained pillow. Had his hands been responsible for that episode as well? The thought made his stomach roll in protest. It was impossible for him to believe that his own touch could cause Jim's body to physically rebel. And what about Simon? Jim had actually seen a picture move across his desk at the same moment that his captain had noticed that he was about to collapse.
Something in Jim's world had shifted, some type of disturbance had descended on Cascade, and Blair was determined to find out what. Even if it meant tying his own hands behind his back.
***************************
Two shadowed figures embraced in the darkened room. Their mouths met in a lingering kiss, and then parted, giving way to contented smiles.
"How did your meeting go?"
Running his hands through her long red hair, he whispered. "Soon, my love, Cascade will be ours for the taking. There's nothing that can stop us now. Are you enjoying your little diversion?"
Tossing her head back, the woman chuckled. "Night school. Can you think of a better place?"
Nuzzling her neck, the man replied. "Not for a vampire. My strength has doubled, my love. There are no boundaries. Soon you will join me as a stalker of both day and night. We'll walk among them, and soon, they will join our band of immortals."
Gently caressing the side of his face, the woman tilted his head towards her own. "Are you sure about starting with police headquarters? Maybe we should start somewhere else."
Grinning, he pulled her closer to him. "Never fear, Miranda, what better place to start than with Cascade's finest? The detective I was supposed to meet with today was out sick. That should tell you something. He poses no threat."
"I know what you mean. I met this guy at the University last night. He even drove me home. An anthropology geek -- not exactly a threat to society."
Taking a deep breath, the man glanced around the darkened room. Thirty or more makeshift coffins lined the walls. "Soon, my children. As the moon turns red, so will the streets of Cascade."
***************************
Jim opened his eyes slowly and stared at the man leaning against the couch. Blair's eyes were fixed on a pad of paper that rested on his outstretched legs. His hair was neatly tucked behind his ears and the pensive look on his face made Jim smile. Focusing in on the words, "foods eaten in the past twenty-four hours," Jim couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt pass through his body. The kid had been sitting there for god knows how long, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with him. Jim was sure that there were numerous other pages that contained similar lists of possible contaminants and environmental hazzards. Blair would stop at nothing to help Jim, no matter what the cost.
But this time was different...
The very thought of Blair or Simon touching him sent shivers down his spine. The two people who had saved him from a life of solitude had now become the reason to seek solitude. The fact was, Jim knew exactly what was going on...
"It's not polite to read over someone's shoulder, Jim." Blair smiled as he met Jim's eyes.
Blushing, Jim shifted to a sitting position. "Sorry. Look, Chief. I'm fine. Really. I'm sure I just needed some down time, that's all. What time is it anyway?"
Blair pushed himself off the floor and moved to sit near the opposite end of the couch. "You've been out for about four hours. It's almost three o'clock. Before you go freaking on me, Simon called and told me to tell you to take a few days off. Joel's gonna help out that new guy until you get back."
A part of Jim wanted to leap off the couch in a fit of outrage; the other part let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Okay."
"So what's it gonna be, Jim? Your way or my way?"
A hint of sarcasm had entered his Guide's voice, and Jim fidgeted restlessly in his seat Blair was in no mood for the "I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it." patented Ellison lecture. Maybe if he changed the subject, he could get away with a few more minutes of peace. It was worth a try anyway. "Maybe we should consider this a vacation. You know, hit the road, pack up the rods."
"That is so lame, Jim. Why do I get the feeling you're about to bolt on me? If you think you're going to disappear out that door, you've got another thing coming, mister. I may not be able to touch you, but I'll tell you right now, there are other ways of tying down a Sentinel."
The finality in Blair's voice both comforted and scared Jim. "I need to do this alone."
"What aren't you telling me? You know what's going on. I know it."
Unable to meet Blair's eyes, Jim stared at a tiny speck of dirt on the coffee table in front of him. "I've seen things. Things that you won't understand. When I was in Peru, there were other tribes, different tribes. They weren't like the Chopec. They believed that blood was a source of power, energy. They tried to harness that energy by drinking the blood of their enemies. They thought it would make them stronger, invincible. That it would give them insight into their enemies' battle plans and ideas."
Blair's eyes never left his partner. Jim's voice faltered as he spoke, his eyes downcast as if he himself had committed some type of crime.
"What are you saying, Jim? Are we talking about cannibals here?"
The tremor in Jim's voice was barely audible. "We're talking about..."
Blair tried to hide the urgency in his voice. "Talking about what, Jim?"
"Wait here."
There was no mistaking the unsteadiness in Jim's stride. It seemed to Blair that his partner had aged thirty years since this morning. As he watched Jim ascend the stairs, he made a mental note to question him about it later.
Hesitating at the top of the stairs, Jim closed his eyes to the blood that still lay on his pillow. He had hoped, correction, prayed, that this day would never come. He had ignored the signs, and now he must pay the price for his own mistake. Re-opening his eyes, he made his way over to the bed. Slowly he lowered himself to the floor, tentatively peering underneath it. His hand shook as he reached for a small, hand-carved box neatly tucked away in a shadowed area beneath the bed. Settling himself on the floor, he ran a finger over the word etched in the wood. Seeker.
As if in a dream, Jim descended the stairs, reverently cradling the tiny box. His mind fell numb to Blair's persistent questions as he made his way to the kitchen. He opened the box and carefully unwrapped a small bottle of liquid. Retrieving a large bowl, he filled it to the brim with water. Blair's anxious eyes watched as Jim carefully opened the tiny container and allowed one drop of the clear liquid to fall into the bowl. Refastening the cap, Jim turned his attention to Blair.
"Put your hands in the water, Chief."
Blair studied Jim's face for a moment and hesitantly allowed his hands to hover over the liquid. "Jim, what is this?"
"Just trust me."
Carefully lowering his hands into the water, Blair watched in horror as the water changed from clear to blood red. "What the hell? What is that stuff?"
"It's the Chopec version of Holy Water, Chief. The vampires, they're here in Cascade. And I'm the only person who can stop them."
***************************
Passing Blair a dish towel, Jim did his best to avoid Blair's questioning glare. The urge to run had diminished slightly, but the fear of having to divulge more details about his past remained. Jim had never trusted another human being as much as he trusted Blair, and yet, a small part of him still denied Blair full access to his innermost thoughts and feelings. Rejection was still a very real possibility for Jim, something that he would harbor close to his heart despite Blair's continuous attempts at acceptance.
Gentle fingers enclosed Jim's wrist. "Jim? You with me?"
Jim focused on the hand that encircled his wrist. The fingers felt warm, comforting, strong and yet somehow yielding. His mind wandered to where his senses converged. With practiced ease, he dialed up his sense of touch far beyond that of its normal level. Slowly rotating his wrist, Jim mentally logged Blair's fingerprints in his sense memory. The slight etchings imbedded themselves in Jim's skin, marking him with the very essence of Blair Sandburg. Jim's blood ran like ink through his veins. His skin prickled at the touch, the sensation overwhelming his thoughts. He would find Blair, even if his mortal world fell apart. A part of Blair would be with him now and always - even in death...
The grip tightened around Jim's wrist, and another feather like touch patted the side of his cheek. "Hey Jim, come on back, man. Am I hurting you?"
Shaking his head slowly, Jim purposely tilted his head closer to the hand that still brushed his cheek. "No. You're not hurting me. It's better now."
Releasing Jim from his hold, Blair smiled. "Good. You had me worried there. Are you okay? I haven't seen you zone like that in ages. We've got to talk, Jim. I can't believe you kept something like this from me. What else is going on in that head of yours? I wish I knew."
Sighing, Jim moved towards the balcony doors. Grasping them tightly, he flung them open in one fell swoop. The cool evening air wafted towards him. Inhaling deeply, Jim opened up his site to the world around him.
"What do you want from me, Blair? What do you really want?"
"How can you even ask that question? I want to help you, Jim. I want to be your friend. That's it, nothing else. Where the hell did this come from? You better get over it, man. We are not doing a repeat performance of what happened with Alex. Do you hear me? We are way past that kind of crap. Start talking, Jim. What's going on?"
Jim crossed the few steps to the edge of the balcony and leaned heavily against the railing. He could feel Blair's breath light on his neck, soothing the fear in his heart.
"There's two of them, a man and a woman. He has black hair, hers is red. They've come here on a mission, Chief. They've come to find me. In the next two days they'll mark thirty people, one for each day of the month. You and Simon were two of those people. On the night of the lunar eclipse, you'll all be under their power. That's when the transformation begins. They'll take you to a place, someplace hidden. That's when you'll be initiated into their little group. In other words, you'll become one of them."
Blair's jaw went slack. He stared at Jim's back for what seemed an eternity f before he could form the correct words. "But you unmarked me, right?"
Bowing his head, Jim whispered. "Yes."
"Then you can just use that stuff in the bottle to unmark everyone else, right?
Jim pushed himself away from the rail and turned to face his partner. "Yes. There's exactly thirty drops of liquid in that bottle. I can unmark everyone."
Blair folded his arms across his chest. "There's thirty-one days in a month, Jim. You're what they're after, aren't you? They're gonna kill you, is that what you're telling me? That you can't save yourself? That they're gonna force you to use up that liquid? Dammit, Jim, is that it?"
Jim nodded as he shifted his eyes heavenward. "I can't stop them, Sandburg. I can't stop them from marking people. I can't stop this."
"Like hell you can't. You think I'm gonna stand here and let this happen? No way. I'll darn well bathe you in that stuff if that's what it takes."
A smile crept on Jim's face as he locked eyes with his best friend. "I wish it were that easy."
"And you turn into some blood-sucking vampire and fly off into the night. Oh, this is good, Jim. So let me get this straight. You unmark everyone, use up the liquid, and they kill you. This is one hell of a bedtime story."
Jim's voice was low, almost inaudible. "There's one way to stop this."
"Now we're getting somewhere. How?"
"After I've unmarked the last person, you kill me first. Can you do that, Chief? Tell me you can. 'Cause if you can't, I'll do it myself. I won't let them change me. I won't do it. Help me do this. Save my soul, Chief."
***************************
As the sun set on yet another day in Cascade, he felt the primitive stir of legends past. The medieval awakening of passion and the lust for fulfilment. The need to feed upon a mortal, to deliver himself into the hands of the darkness. Two days, just two more days, and the world would bow to his altar. With the "Seeker" to avenge his throne, there was no stopping him.
Rafe extended his hand in invitation -- an invitation graciously accepted by the dark side. Drake gripped the younger man's hand and marked yet another victim in his sadistic game. His thoughts traveled to the "Seeker" as he released Rafe's hand and smiled good-naturedly. They had never met, and yet their souls had been drawn together since the beginning of time.
The fine line between good and evil was about to disappear. The age old stirrings had led Drake to Cascade and shown him the people that had needed to be marked. Miranda had blindly followed his path, trusting him to lead her to eternal life. Drake Shaman knew all about James Ellison, every last detail. Miranda was but a pawn in his game, easily forfeited in the name of the Kingdom. He had lied to her about any knowledge of a "Seeker." He had used her to help him fulfill his role as Shaman of the Night. In reality, Miranda was nothing but a meal. Food for thought as they say.
James Ellison, Sentinel of the Light would join him, Drake Shaman, Guide of Darkness in a matter of hours. The apocalypse was close at hand...
***************************
"You want me to kill you? No problem. You just make sure there's enough bullets in there for both of us. This goes way beyond nuts, Jim." Blair turned away from his partner and stalked back into the loft, Jim close at his heels.
"Chief, listen to me. Why can't you just do what I ask you? Why do you have to fight me on this? Why do you always have to push me so damn hard?"
Blair stopped in his tracks and turned on his heels to face Jim. "Because you don't trust me. Because you tell me these half-truths. How much of this story are you leaving out? What piece of the puzzle is it that you're hiding this time? Is it a vision? An image? What?"
Jim's body shook involuntarily, his voice cracking with each word. "H-He's a Shaman. He knows what I am. He's a Guide. He's my Guide."
The words stung Blair with fire-like intensity. Reaching out an arm to steady himself against the sofa, Blair shook his head. "Are you telling me that..."
"Every Sentinel has two Guides. I feel him, Blair. I can't fight him. We can't fight him."
Reaching for Jim's hand, Blair managed a weak smile. "Oh yes we can. If he wants a fight, bring him on."
***************************
The "James Ellison" that Blair had come to know so well seemed to have vanished. In his place stood a man defeated. Jim's body slumped as if the weight of the world lay solely on his shoulders. After their discussion at the loft, Jim had suddenly gone very silent. Blair had done his best to reassure Jim during dinner, but to no avail. Blair's insistence to leave the "unmarking" process until the morning had fallen upon deaf ears. It seemed the only energy that his Sentinel still had was entirely focused on the well-being of those around him.
Jim had always placed the safety of the tribe far above his own personal safety, but this time was different. Not only was Jim a bit off balance by the situation, he was downright lethargic. At first Blair had thought it was fear that he had seen in his friend's eyes, but now, as he watched Jim shuffle towards Simon's office, he knew he was wrong. Jim Ellison, his Jim Ellison, was but a walking shell of the man he had known yesterday...
The moment Jim had entered the station, his senses had spiraled out of control. The trip from the parking garage to Simon's office had taken almost double its usual time. Blair had kept a hand on Jim's shoulder the entire time, doing his best to ground his Sentinel against the sensory overload. Brown had inadvertently patted Jim's other shoulder in a gesture of friendship. The simple show of affection had caused the color to drain from Jim's face almost immediately. Brown's concerned voice was quickly stifled by Blair's ministrations.
As the door to Simon's office closed behind Jim, Blair wondered exactly how they were going to make their makeshift plan come together. Jim had reassured him that the liquid could be safely ingested without any after effects. The key was to somehow dilute the potion in a water based mixture. Simon's coffee seemed like the perfect place to start.
Blair's mind raced as he glanced around the bullpen. Even though many of the regular officers and staff had left for the day, the room was still humming with activity. Familiar faces nodded and smiled in his direction as he leaned against one of the desks. How many of these people had been "marked?" How were they ever going to "unmark" everyone before it was too late?
Jim seemed to be drawn to the darkness almost as if he could see the evil radiating off of the victim's body. Blair swore that he had felt Jim tense even before Brown had come within twenty feet of him. Was this a sign of things to come? NO! Blair closed his mind to such thoughts and focused on Brown's back as he cleared away the items on his desk. As the man reached for his coat, Blair made a move towards him.
"Brown, you want to wait up for a minute?"
""Sure, buddy, you want some help with Jim? Man, he looks like he's about to pass out. I never seen him look so bad. I thought Simon told him to take a few days off?"
Nodding in agreement, Blair remarked, "You know him, stubborn as they come."
"You thirsty? I was gonna go grab a soda on the way out. You want one?"
Smiling internally, Blair gestured towards the hallway. "Lead on, my friend."
***************************
Blair tossed the truck keys into the basket and watched as Jim made his way over to the couch. Jim slumped into the cushions, idly resting his head on the back of the couch. It seemed that with every "unmarking," Jim had grown more distant and more easily agitated. In the two hours that they had spent at the station, Jim had been able to erase the vampire's marks from ten victims excluding himself. Eleven down, nineteen to go, Blair thought to himself as he headed towards the kitchen. Retrieving two beers from the fridge, Blair settled himself on the couch beside his partner. "You okay, Jim?"
"It's almost over."
"What's almost over? What's going on? You haven't said two words since we left the station."
Cracking his eyes open, Jim tilted his head towards his partner. "I'm real sorry, Chief."
"You're scaring me."
"Doesn't hurt that much anymore. Feels funny."
Panic rose in Blair's chest as he watched Jim's eyes slide closed. Shaking him gently, Blair's voice shook as he spoke. "Jim? Jim! Jim!"
Blair jumped as the balcony doors suddenly burst open. A strong wind gusted towards the pair. In the shadows a black-haired man leaned against the railing. Jim's hand grabbed at Blair's shirt and pulled him towards him. Jim's eyes darted open in fear, the ocean blue orbs lost in a pool of red. "Let him in, Blair. Invite him in."
Turning his attention to the figure on the balcony, Blair shook his head. "No Jim." Blair's voice rose in indignation. "Whoever you are, get out. Do you hear me? Get the hell out of here!"
The man's silhouette moved closer to the open doors and Blair was able to make out his features. Dark eyes, dark hair, porcelain skin, Jim's height and build. Extricating himself from his partner's hold, Blair moved towards the open doors. "Maybe you didn't hear me. I said, get out!"
The man smiled as he spoke. "Blair Sandburg, good to meet you. Don't look so surprised. You must have expected that I'd drop by at some point. After all, we have a common interest, or should I say a common bond."
"Go to hell!"
"Tsk, tsk. Such language from a Guide. You'd never hear me speaking like that." Looking past Blair, Drake smiled in Jim's direction. "Hey, Jim. How you feeling? Bet those burns hurt some. Oh, I have something for you. Figured you could use some help."
Blair turned to look at Jim just in time to see him double over in pain. His face contorted in a grimace as he rocked back and forth. Even before Blair reached Jim's side he could feel the heat radiating from his body. Draping Jim's arm across his shoulder, Blair dragged him towards the bathroom. An imaginary fire raged between them, scalding their bodies with its smoldering embers.
Blair threw back the shower curtain and with shaking hands turned on the cold water tap. Jim's scream as Blair shoved them both towards the spray was one that Blair would not soon forget. The water hissed as it penetrated Jim's clothing, a faint billow of smoke rising from his body. As the water streamed down their faces Blair cupped Jim's head in his hands. "You stay with me. I will not let this happen. You will not let this happen."
Blair's attention drifted momentarily to the open bathroom door. A piece
of charred white paper floated threw the doorway and hovered before Blair's
eyes. A list of names written in red ink neatly scrawled on the page. The
names were numbered from one to thirty. The marked victims had been neatly
catalogued alphabetically. Blair watched in horror as the paper slowly
wafted over to the counter and landed face up beside the sink.
***************************
The sun's warming rays teased at Blair's eyelashes. Slowly dragging his eyes open, Blair winced at the pain radiating down his neck. The images of last night pounding there way into his brain. Jim had finally fallen asleep just a few short hours ago. Blair had spent the better part of the night reassuring his Sentinel and tending to the multitude of minor burns that covered Jim's body. Blair wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up stiffly expecting to see his partner sprawled on the couch opposite him.
Instead, Blair's eyes were met with a neat pile of meticulously folded blankets. Stiffness forgotten, Blair leapt off the couch and began searching the loft for his partner. His breathing quickened as he tilted the basket that normally contained Jim's keys towards him.
Empty. The basket was empty.
Snatching up the phone receiver, Blair punched in Simon's number.
"Banks."
"Simon, it's Blair. Is Jim there?"
Simon's voice took on an ere of pleasantness. "Got to tell you, Sandburg, whatever it was you gave him must have really done the trick. I've never seen him like this."
Blair found himself pacing. "Like what? What is he like?"
"He's finished up every piece of paperwork in this office. It's only ten o'clock and he's already made two arrests this morning. Phillip Corvair is in custody. Do you know how long we've been searching for that guy? Jim got some kind of tip this morning about his whereabouts and within half an hour he was picked up. I'm telling you, kid, you may have some competition."
"Competition?"
"I'm telling you, Jim and Drake are one hell of a team."
"The new guy? What does he look like?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
Taking a deep breath, Blair continued. "Just humor me, Simon."
"I don't know, black hair, dark eyes, Jim's build. Where are you going with this?"
"I'll be there as soon as I can. Just promise me that you won't let Jim out of your sight."
"Look, Blair, I've got cases to solve. Unless you have a damn good reason why I should tie Jim down..."
"How about to keep him alive? Is that a good enough reason?" Not waiting for a reply, Blair slammed down the phone. Snatching up his keys and jacket, Blair made a detour to the bathroom before heading out the door. The charred white paper from the night before still lay on the counter. Quickly scanning the list, Blair noticed Phillip Corvair's name among the victims.
"Oh my god. He's helping him."
***************************
"This better be good, Sandburg," Simon growled as he positioned himself behind his desk. "Why do I have the feeling that I'm about to step into the 'Sandburg' zone?"
Blair cleared his throat and shifted restlessly in his chair. "I know this is going to sound a bit crazy..."
Rolling his eyes, Simon leaned back further into his chair. "I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. There is no such thing as a simple explanation from you, do you realize that?"
Chuckling nervously, Blair continued. "You see, sir, this guy Drake is not exactly who you think he is. He's... different, very different."
"Go on."
"You know how I help Jim with his senses. Well, this guy has that ability too."
Pressing his fingertips together, Simon smiled. "Two of you, what a thought."
"I'm serious, Simon. This guy has power over Jim. He wants to become his Guide."
Shaking his head, Simon straightened up in his chair. "So you're telling me that you and Drake are having some kind of turf war? Is that what this is about?"
"I know I'm not explaining this very well. You just have to trust me. Every Sentinel has two Guides, one that works for the good of the tribe, and one that doesn't."
"What are you saying? Are you saying that Drake is some kind of evil Guide?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
"Sandburg, the only evil thing going on here right now are the thoughts that I'm having about you. Go get your partner and get back to work."
"Can you at least come over tonight? I have to go out for a few hours and I really don't want to leave him alone."
Sighing, Simon waved a hand in Blair direction. "Fine. Now get back to work."
"Thanks."
Blair exited the office just in time to see Jim and Drake enjoying some type of light-hearted conversation. Jim sat on the edge of his desk, Drake taking up post directly in front of him. A broad smile adorned Jim's face as he turned his attention to Blair
"Hey, Chief. Come and meet Drake."
Cautiously approaching his partner, Blair replied. "Jim, can I see you alone for a minute?"
"Sure, Chief. Excuse us?"
Giving Blair a sly grin, Drake brushed past Blair. "I'll be in Simon's office if you need me. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get better acquainted."
"Don't count on it." Blair murmured as Drake disappeared into the office.
Turning his attention back to Jim, Blair took a moment to survey his partner's condition. Despite the lack of sleep and the pain that Jim had endured the night before, he looked incredibly well-rested. Jim seemed uncharacteristically at ease with the situation and smiled as Blair scanned his features.
"Looking for something?" Jim scoffed.
"How are you feeling? Those burns last night were pretty serious Jim. How low have you got the dial set?"
"What burns? I have no idea what you're talking about?"
Grabbing Jim's arm, Blair fumbled with his shirt cuff. "I don't believe this."
"What are you doing? Stop it! I said, stop it!"
Blair shook his head in disbelief as he stared at Jim's forearms. "They're gone."
Batting Blair's hand away from his arm, Jim straightened to his full height. "I don't know what your problem is Chief, but you better get over it."
"The unmarking, the bottle, the two Guide thing. You don't remember any of it, do you?"
"I think you've been reading too many fairy tales, Chief."
The indifference in Jim's reply made Blair flinch. He found himself staring into Jim's vacant eyes searching for some hint of hope. "Where's the bottle, Jim?"
From somewhere in the shadows of Jim's mind, a pin prick of light must have punctured the darkness. A shaking hand reached out for Blair's wrist and grasped it firmly. "I...I gave it to him."
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