Shadows of the Night

finally, another new chapter for those of you who want to take a trip into my odd little world. the writing bunny had nibbled my bum hard this month, so i've been busy pushing out ideas and whatnot. hopefully, its been worth the effort. if not.... bugger. once again, this is entirely drawn from my sick little mind. nothing too icky in this chapter, except for possibly the bit at the end. please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Chapter Nine: Plans And Pawns
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MacKenzie stared at Katya in the light form his dashboard and sighed. When he'd woken, he'd found her sitting in the living room with Drummond. The two of them were very tense and silent, letting him know that she had yet to forgive herself for what she'd done. He knew, because he'd pulled the memories of the events from Drummond's mind while she'd been apologizing to him that morning. Watching what had happened from his friend's point of view, he understood why Drum was so adamant that Katya know what was happening to her. He was going to have to tell her, whether he wanted to or not.

Part of him wished he'd never been given this assignment. It was too hard for him. He'd already gone against his better judgement and helped her when he should have let her suffer through the pain that came with the attack. It would have driven her to the very edge of madness. And he knew from experience that, once she reached that point, she'd have found a way to end the pain herself. It wasn't fair of him to want this mortal woman to himself. It wasn't fair of him to allow his feelings to cloud his better judgement. The pain that came from the shapeling's attack was only going to worsen with time. He wouldn't always be able to stave it off with his blood.

Drum had been right. He had to tell her what it was that was happening to her. At the same time, he had to tell her that Templer wanted to use her for his own purposes. He had to explain to her what kind of danger she'd be in each and every time she was brought before the family. He had to tell her everything before they arrived at the old, gothic building in the center of town that served as the coven's main headquarters. He heaved a sigh as he turned out of the driveway.

"What is it, Mac?" Katya asked him softly. She glanced back up the drive to see Drummond still standing at the edge of it, watching them with worried eyes. Something big was happening. She could sense it so accutely on the two of them that she was afraid to look into their minds and find out what it was. Something told her she wouldn't like it one bit. "Something's bothering both of you. What is it?"

"There is so much to tell you, Katya. And none of it will make you happy, sweet one," Mac sighed, flicking his gaze at her for a moment before giving his attention back to the road before him. She could hear the sorrow in his words and wondered if he was done with her. Granted, she'd only known him a short time, but she felt as if she'd known him all her life. If he was ending thier relationship, she felt she'd be more heartbroken than she had a right to be.

"Then start at the beginning. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself," she told him softly, in a tone that she hoped would ease some of his discomfort. He turned to her again, flashing a quick smile at her mild attempt at easing him. He gave his attention back to the road and let go of a deep sigh.

"Long have we encountered the leavings of a shapeling after an attack made on a human. Many of the mortals did not survive the initial attack. Some, such as yourself, did survive the attack. But, as the days passed, the pain grew so intense that many of them went mad with it. Many of them took their own lives. Still others discovered a way to cope with the pain," he said, his voice gone soft with recollection. Kat listened intently, deciding that she wouldn't interrupt him with questions since it had seemed to take a miracle to start him talking in the first place.

"The blood of my kind can... momentarily dull the pain that comes from surviving a shapeling's attack. Much as I have done with you. There are, however, side effects that can be as devastating as the treatment or the shapeling's attack," he said gently. Kat frowned and thought she might now understand what those side effects were. Still, she said nothing and listened. She was suddenly very unhappy with the direction this monologue of his seemed to be taking. "Drummond and I believe that you are already experiencing such side effects."

Katya turned her head to look at him, noting the pained expression on his face and the tension in his fingers as they curled around the car's steering wheel. "To put it simply, the sharing of small amounts of our blood has been known to give the recipient some of the qualities and characteristics of a vampire for a short time. The need to drink blood. Heightened sexual needs. Intensified sight, scent and sound. And the more blood we share with a mortal, the stronger these things become."

They pulled to a stop at a red light and Mac turned to look at her. There was a deeply pained expression in his eyes that she knew was real. She could feel sorrow pouring off him, mingled with deep remorse. "I warned you that first night what could happen. I admit that I did not warn with exact facts, but I did try to warn you. I should never have offered you the opportunity, but I could not stand to see you suffer so. I still cannot. I am weak when I am with you and I can never fully apologize for putting you through such a hell."

"The dream I had about all the blood? That was because you shared your blood with me?" she finally spoke, asking the question that came to her first.

"Yes. It was. These things that you are experiencing will only grow in strength. They will become so real that you will have a hard time distinguishing between what is and what is not. If you do not learn how to control the pain, you will go mad. Either from the pain itself or from the treatments that I have given you. That I will continue to give you because I cannot bear to see you in such agony."

"I see," she nodded, then peered at him closely in the semi-darkness of the vehicle. The lights from the instrument panel colored his face, giving her the ability to read some of the expression there. He truly felt guilty about what he'd done, which lead her to believe that he didn't like it at all. "So you feel guilty about helping me, but you'll feel even more guilty about not helping me. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," he replied softly, taking his foot off the brake pedal to move it to the gas when the light changed. The car slid forward smoothly and Mac gave all his attention back to the road before them. Kat reached out a hand and laid it on his arm.

"But this isn't your fault. Why would you blame yourself?" she asked gently.

"Because, despite the fact that I should not, I care about what happens to you," he replied, taking a turn onto a dark street. They were left in the near dark of the car's interior, only the lights of the gauges showing her his face.

"I see. You didn't want to tell me about this, did you? Drum made you tell me," she guessed. Mac nodded, then sighed. The sound was loud in the car.

"There is more, Katya. And I believe you will not like me for what I am about to tell you." he began. She chose to remain silent in response, letting him know that he could go on. "I told you before that I was ordered to watch over you. I did not tell you why this is so."

They took a turn to the right and Mac was silent, giving his concentration to the road. Kat took the opportunity to look around her at the area they were driving through. It looked to be an old industrial park that had fallen on bad times. Many of the buildings were missing windows. Trash and what she thought might be bodies were strewn about the empty lots. The tall, cyclone fences that had been put up to keep trespassers out were ragged in places, as if giants had come along and simply ripped the chain link away from the posts like it was little more than tissue. There was a general feeling of decay to the area and what little plant life she could make out was surely nothing more than weeds. The entire area left Katya feeling cold and.... dead. She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly about herself. Then Mac spoke again and she jumped.

"The night of your attack, you called out for help with your mind. Two of the family answered the call. Gus and Niki. This is how Niki became interested in you. When they reported to Templer what had happened, he was interested in you for another reason entirely. He became interested in your ability to speak with your mind. There are few who can manage such a feat. Fewer still who are capable of such a thing with our kind. I was ordered to look after you and make sure that no harm came to you."

He stopped and waited for her to say something to that. Anything. But she remained silent and so Mac pushed on. "At first, I was simply going to do as I had been told. I was going to make sure no harm came to you. But then I met you. That night, in the hospital, I slipped into your mind. I saw what had happened to you. I felt it. And then I was driven from your mind. You are unlike any human I have ever met before. You have a Guardian."

"A Guardian?" Kat asked, not sure what he meant. Up ahead, she could see a looming building with lights blazing in the darkness. Mac sighed and pulled over along the side of the road. He slipped the car into park and turned in his seat as much as the seat belt would allow and looked at her.

"A Guardian is a natural mental block that protects people from certain mental events. Generally something tragic. Everyone has one, but some are more defined and functioning than others. I suspect yours works on a higher level because of your ability to link with another's mind. Your Guardian is in the form of a large black cat, sleek and deadly. It protects you from losing your mind in times of great mental stress. It cannot, however, help you with this. It does not know how. It was then that I knew you were special."

MacKenzie stopped a moment, then looked over at the building before them, the bright lights beckoning cheerily to any who were lost in the dark. He reached out with a hand and took hers in it. "You opened your eyes then and saw me. You spoke. I could hear so much in your voice that you did not say. I was compelled to do for you what I could. Despite my orders from Templer, there arose within me a need to protect you for myself."

"I thought I'd dreamed you until I saw you again. Everything was such a blur that night," she said quietly, watching the light in the distance. Occasionally, she saw people moving back and forth in front of the brightness, their shadows passing over the windows like clouds over the moon or sun. "You helped me sleep."

"I know. It was selfish of me to do so, but I had to help you. Something made me wish to keep you safe. That feeling, even now, continues to fill me. Which is what makes this evening so very difficult," he said on a sigh and then gestured to the large, lit building. "That is the Lair. There, you will meet Templer and the rest of the family. I have been ordered to bring you before them. Before Templer. To not do so would mean punishment and I am not strong enough on my own to bring Templer down."

"So he gets to use me like a pawn?" she assumed correctly. He could hear no discernable emotion in her voice and worried that she was going to withdraw into herself from him.

"I am sorry, Katya. If there was anything I could have done to prevent such a thing from happening, I would have done it," he told her softly. She nodded wordlessly, then motioned to the lit building.

"They're waiting for me, aren't they?" she asked in a quiet tone.

"Katya, I..." Mac began, but she turned and put a finger to his lips.

"I don't blame you, Dare. This isn't your fault. Just promise you'll never leave my side," she smiled at him, slipping her hand up to cup his face. It reminded him so much of Fia that, for a moment or two, he forgot that he was looking at Katya. Fia had said those words to him once, a very long time ago. The image was shattered when the sound of screeching tires brought him back to the present. There was a soft smile on Katya's face, her warm palm still pressed to his cheek. "Its going to be scary in there for me. Promise you'll stay with me?"

"Of course, Katya," he nodded, reaching up to cover her hand with his own. Her smile grew until it was one that made his own appear. "Shall we go face the den of vampires?"

Katya nodded at him and turned to face the windshield. Mac turned back around in his seat and shifted the car back into gear, then pulled back out on the road.

~*~*~*~*~

The Lair was located in the remains of an old Catholic church that had been abandoned in the previous century. The land was no longer consecrated, but the family had never bothered to let anyone know that it didn't matter. The old legends about sacred places and crosses had a certain amount of truth to them. However, they were only truths to a degree. A cross would work on a vampire, but only if the person who wore it truly believed that it could do harm. It was the same with a church. There had to be a certain amount of belief in the religion associated with the church for it to repel a vampire.

The Church of the Blessed Virgin had long been empty and any belief that went with the purposes for its building had long ago faded. Templer had moved the family into it some sixty years ago. It had been a perfect place to settle the family because no one had ever thought to see a coven of vampires living in a church. It still made some of the younger vamps in town nervous. Many were apprehensive to step into the place the first time. Once they realized that they weren't going to be turned to dust, the fear went away.

When the previous inhabitants of the church had left, they'd taken the bodies of the few priests and nuns buried there with them. That left a series of catacombs beneath the church and the property it was built on that was perfect for the family to use as sanctuary from the daylight hours. A series of shifters played daytime guards to the Lair, protecting the family that slept below from would be attackers. Given that the area around them had fallen on hard times and had gradually slid into ruin, the family was fairly safe in their present location.

As it was, Kat had stared up at the aged ediface of the church with something akin to awe and shock as MacKenzie'd led her inside the building. The man standing at the door, a pale blonde who was impossibly large and muscular, had only odded at the two of them and allowed them to enter the small receiving hall at the front of the building. As they'd moved from the hall into the main body of the building, Kat had taken in the fact that time had eaten away at the grandeur that had once been an inherent part of the decor.

The carpet beneath them was faded and worn, thread bare in some places. Many of the windows, once graced with the most beautiful of stained glass, had been boarded over and covered to hide the diseased look of the neighborhood beyond. Any relics that had once adorned the walls had been taken down, leaving voids where age had marked their places. She'd felt a moment of passing sorrow for the slow death of what had to have once been a most beautiful and grand place.

Now they stood before a man sitting upon what looked like an old, cheesy throne. He had dark hair and dark eyes, which were trained on Kat in an almost predatory manner. She didn't like the way he looked at her, as if he'd eat her when she wasn't looking. It took all of her effort not to inch closer to MacKenzie. Instead, she did the best she could at blanking her face. It didn't help that there were quite a few bodies behind her and each one, she knew, was a vampire.

"So this is the human woman," Templer said, his gaze moving to Mac's.

"She is. Templer, this is Katya Fitzsimmons. Katya, this is Templer. He is leader of the family," Mac told her, his tone curiously void of any discernable emotion. She figured out soon enough that it was his way of protecting himself.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Katya," Templer intoned in such a manner that he made pleasure sound very perverse. Without thinking, she slipped into his mind to find out what it was that was going through his head. The images she caught made her wish she hadn't.

She could see herself from his perspective. She was naked and pinned beneath his body while he drove himself into her. He was harsh, brutal. Her body was wracked with pain from his assault. And with it, there was a commentary. Such a hot, tight body. I bet her cunt matches. I plan on taking her again and again, using her for my pleasure until she's little more than broken doll. Then I'll let Niki have her to finish the job. She'll be a sweat treat after all these other mortal bitches.

She pulled from his mind as the images became more graphic and vile. She'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that she hadn't realized he'd continued speaking. Even now, she wasn't interested in it. If it was important, she knew that Mac would let her know. Instead, she allowed herself to pick over the thoughts floating around the room behind her. Most of them were centered on her presence there. She heard things like 'blood bag' and 'ripe' from the people behind her. Some of the more frightening things were in relation to the shapelings and the smell of their stink on her.

She's mine! the feminine voice snarled loudly, catching Kat off guard. I'll kill anyone who touches her. That includes MacKenzie. Templer's second or not, he'll die if he touches her.

Katya pulled back into herself. She knew who that was and it scared her to think that Niki would hurt Mac because of her. Deciding that she'd spent too much time sifting through the thoughts of everyone around her, she returned her attention to the man before her. She was glad she did, because he chose that moment to look her in the eye and address her. "Did MacKenzie tell you why you're here?"

Kat was on the verge of telling him yes, but something stopped her. Instead, she shook her head and gave him her best blank stare. "No, he didn't. He only mentioned that you wanted to meet me."

Templer stared at her as if assessing her. During that time, she remained silent. She could feel Mac's approval with her answer surrounding her, as if he were projecting it and wrapping her in it like a blanket. She was warmed through with the feeling and it gave her the courage to continue with the game she'd started. Finally, the man shifted his gaze off of her and onto Mac. A kind of smirk came to his lips, then he returned his attention to her. "Well, then. Let me enlighten you."

Templer made a gesture with one arm that encompassed the entire group that stood behind her. Then he dipped into a mocking bow, never taking his eyes from her. "Welcome, Katya, to the Lair. I am Templer and this is my family. In case Mac failed to let you know it, we're all vampires. And you, my dear mortal, have just become an unofficial member of the family.'

Kat merely stared at him, keeping her face blank. She wasn't going to let him know that she was not impressed with his theatrical introduction. When he failed to pull a reaction from her, Templer straightened and frowned. "I'm told that you survived a shapeling's attack. Something that's practically unheard of. Of course, if the beast had gotten to finish his business I doubt that you'd be standing here now. You have Gus to thank for that, by the way."

"I will be certain to introduce the two of them later so that Katya may properly thank him," Mac said, bringing forth a nod from Templer.

"As MacKenzie may or may not have told you, I've assigned him to look out for you. I believe that you can be of some use to the family. Specifically, your ability to look into another's mind. I think that such a talent would be very useful to us," Templer told her, his tone one that an adult would use with a small child. Kat was immediately offended. "Another coven of vampires in town is trying to start a war with us. I'd like to avoid that at all costs. And that, my dear, is where you come in."

"Specifically, my ability to look into another's mind," she threw the words back at him. Templer smiled, then threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"She has spirit," he told the group behind her. A low chuckling rippled across the crowd for a few moments, then died off and silence once more prevailed. "That's a good thing, Katya. You're going to need it. Judas and his people won't be half as nice as me and mine have been."

Katya gave thought to some of the very unpleasant things that the people behind her had been thinking about her. If that was nice, she didn't think she wanted to see what mean was. Just the thought of what she smelled like, of the 'taint' that the shapeling had left on her, was enough to make her shudder. She couldn't even begin to imagine what this other coven would think of her if they got a whiff of her. The urge to inch closer to Mac was so strong that she had to force herself not to move. She only nodded, though, and remained silent.

"When I have meetings with some of Judas' officers, I want you to be present so that you can see if they're planning anything. Judas won't start an outright war with me. But he will try to goad me into starting one for him. And we can't have that. Sources tell me that, though he's a relatively young vamp, he has certain skills as a strategist that could prove detrimental to my coven if we were engaged in full war,' Templer told her. She had to force herself not to smirk at the statement.

You were not aware he was able to use such large words, were you? I am still surprised that he even knows what they mean Mac's words in her head almost saw her giggling. It was a fight to force herself not to snicker before Templer, but she managed to keep her face blank and her laughter to herself.

"Then there would be the carnage that would spill over into the mortal community. There are few things more difficult to stop than a vampire who is tanked up on true blood lust. The results could be disastrous. Few humans are prepared to deal with that kind of rampant brutality," Templer continued on. Kat felt her heart drop into her feet at the idea. A few rampaging immortals could obliterate a community in a short time. When he put it that way.....

Kat knew she was trapped. If she didn't willingly help him in his quest for knowledge, she knew he'd lay the responsibility for any mortal deaths at her feet. It was the way he worked. She knew that just from the short trip she'd made into his thoughts. She didn't dare look at Mac, because she knew he'd see it as both a sign of weakness and as an admission of lying. He'd know she'd been aware of her reasons for being there.

"Well," she began, steeling her nerves in order to get out the answer she was about to make. "Seeing as you made such a tempting offer, how can I possibly refuse?"

"Good decision," Templer nodded, his smile speaking of triumph. Kat could hear the underlying threat in his tone. It bespoke of forcing her to do as he wished if she'd turned him down. By any means necessary. That thought was frightening.

"And how do you plan on keeping me safe at these meetings? Surely the other vampires would see me as a food source or something," she gave him a hard stare that said she wouldn't go without an answer and an assurance. Templer gave her a considering stare before his lips curled up in a facsimile of a smile. She thought that it boded ill for just about anyone who was gifted with it.

"As MacKenzie is watching over you now," Templer said offhandedly, his gaze flicking to the man beside her for a moment before moving off to look at something behind her. "I don't see any reason why he souldn't continue to do so. When it comes time for meetings, the members of the visiting coven will be told that you are his blood mate. They wouldn't dare attack his blood mate in front of him."

Kat wasn't aware what blood mate meant, so she decided she would ask Mac after they left. But, given the way that Templer was speaking of one, she thought that a blood mate had a position of respect among the vampire community. For the moment, she would have to be happy with that. She'd have to remember to ask Mac what the best ways of dispatching vampires were.

"I want all of you to abide by this as if it were the gospel," Templer looked out over the gathered throng with a look that brooked no argument. Kat thought that the joke was in very poor taste, but kept that to herself. "No one in this room is to go near Katya without Mac's approval or presence. She's too important to our survival."

Templer went silent, taking a long moment to glare menacingly, meaningfully, at the coven behind Kat. "Do you all understand me?"

There was a long silence, as if the others were thinking about his words. Then, as one, they all spoke of their comprehension. Kat let go of a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Templer once more looked over at Kat and Mac. "This meeting is over. I don't think there's any need to hang around any longer. If you want to, you can go. There's nothing on the docket this evening that requires your assistance, Mac."

"Thank you, Templer. I believe that I will take Katya out and find her a good, hot meal. If you will excuse us," he said, reaching out to take her hand. Templer gave a slight inclination of his head, then turned his attention to a door to his left that had just opened. A nearly naked blonde with large endowments made her way toward the chair where Templer sat. Kat didn't need to be told to understand what was going to happen and greatfully allowed Mac to lead her away. She was more than happy to be rid of the place.

~*~*~*~*~

Detective Bill Freeman glanced at the clock and snarled out a curse. This time of the morning, a ringing phone only meant one thing. Work. Something bad had happened. He picked the receiver up and brought it to his ear, already dragging a pair of pants up his legs. "Yeah?" he barked into the mouthpiece.

"Bill, we've got another death. This one is pretty spectacular. And I mean that in a nasty kind of way," the voice on the other end said emotionlessly. Fritz Laudermilk had been a homicide detective for what seemed to be ages. No one was completely sure how old he was, though the guess was somewhere just past retirement. He had a shock of white hair that was thick and full and a face that was lined heavier than a map of the United States. There was always an expression in his eyes that was knowing and unreadable. In all his years on the force, Bill had never seen the man smile.

"Where is it?" Freeman asked, reaching for a dirty, rumpled shirt that lay on top of a pile of other dirty, rumpled shirts.

"Cockrell State Park. About three hundred yards up Victory Hiking Trail. Follow the flashing lights. You can't miss it," Fritz told him dryly.

"Victory? Isn't that the trail that people training for a marathon use?"

"Yup. Wear a pair of hiking boots," Fritz told him, then hung up the phone. Bill dropped the receiver back into the cradle and slid the shirt up onto his arms. He made quick work of the buttons, slipping them through the holes while his mind went over the little that Fritz had told him. He knew that there was a good chance that this death was related to the other two he was working on. So many details had been purposely with held from the press so that they would know the real killer when they were caught. The only thing he hadn't been able to figure out thus far was how the death of Jimmy Dalton was connected to Doreen Haviland.

"Well, Bill," he muttered to himself, then jammed his feet into a pair of sturdy, comfortable shoes. "Looks like we're in for another long night. Best to stop at Starbucks and get the largest vat of espresso they have."

~*~

There were lights strobing before he reached the entrance of the park. Upon turning into the drive, he could see a small army of squads, all with their lights going in alternating patterns like a cascading waterfall of color. A young officer in blues panned the flashlight across his windshield, then waved him on, using the beam to motion the car in the right direction. Bill nodded his thanks, then inched forward. There were so many people around that he'd hit someone if he blinked. He hated crime scenes.

A news crew was already on scene and the camera swung to latch onto his driver's side window as he slid past. The light was blinding and forced him to concentrate on the road before him. He could see the reporter's mouth moving, the microphone up close to her mouth. He could only imagine what was being said and he didn't think he wanted to see the headlines in the morning paper. The images slowly slipped behind the car and soon he was on an open stretch of road. There were officers lining the way, more strobing lights showing him the way.

At the marker for the Victory Hiking Trail, he stopped his car and got out. With a flashlight in hand, Bill made his way up the marked path. It was not a very easy climb and he knew immediately that whoever had killed the victim had to have been in great shape. It made him wonder if the vic had been led up there or carried up there. Several moments later, he found himself at a flat spot on the trail. There were several large shrubs around the area, a few rocks that could serve as resting spots and four portable floodlights.

Half a dozen people were in the circle of bright light. The forensics team was there already, working the scene over for clues. Fritz stood off to the side with a frown on his face that Bill thought was as unreadable as his normal expression. There was a body laying on the ground, the back turned up. There were several people standing around it, most of them with the forensics team. He made note of another group off to the left, huddled together under a single flood light. There were only a few people in that group, but there was obviously something going on. Bill moved over to Fritz and sighed. "Fill me in on everything."

"Vic's name is Tommy Peters. Found his wallet in his pocket," Fritz told him. Bill sighed and glanced at the man wearily. It was always the same with him. The man never did volunteer too much information. It was rather annoying.

"What else?" Bill asked patiently.

"Vic's head is over there," he pointed to the group on the left. "The coroner that was here said, from what he saw, that it looked as if Tommy's head was pulled off. He said that he couldn't be sure until the autopsy was done. We'll know more in a week, he said."

"Pulled off?" Bill's voice was full of skepticism. Fritz nodded his head once and motioned to the ground. There was a large circle of coagulating blood coating the grass around him, thick and turning brown.

"Yup. Official cause of death is bleeding out at the moment.That's subject to change after the autopsy's done," Fritz nodded again. Bill moved over to look at the body, finding that the neck was nothing but a ragged ruin. Tissue and sinew hung out of the stump and spilled across the ground. The skin was shredded, looking very much indeed like it had been ripped apart. The forensics team was busy collecting what ever they found that they thought would work as evidence. Bill took a moment to study the area, noting that there didn't seem to be any kind of prints to work with other than what he was sure would be the vic's.

Sighing, Bill moved off to the other site, where the smaller group was clustered. In the center of the small circle lay the head of the vic. The skin there was as ragged as that on the bloody stump of his neck. There was a smaller pool of blood surrounding the head, telling Bill that death had been swift. The bastard was lucky in that respect. He took a moment to study the face, then frowned and studied it more intently when he saw something he thought he recognized about the victim.

Tommy Peters' eyes were wide open, staring in blind horror at the endless eternity of death. In the bright light of the spot, he could see that they were a pale, hazel green. Almost the same color as a pair he'd had chance to look at before. Though his sandy blonde hair was cut short, Bill knew he'd seen some of a similar shade and longer length on a previous occasion. The face had a thin, aristocratic nose centered between high cheek bones and was set off with a set of lips that were a mix of thick and thin. His upper lip was rather on the thinish side, while the lower one was full and pouty. Tommy Peters struck a chord with his memory and Bill began searching back to find out why.

After a few moments, it came to him. Bill recognized that face because he'd seen one like it before. At the station, only a few days ago, when he'd been dealing with a very distraught woman. He frowned and swore up a blue streak. Tommy Peters, the dead man, looked almost exactly like the man who'd entered his office and called himself Katya Fitzsimmon's fiancé. Tommy Peters looked very much like the man who'd introduced himself as nothing more than MacKenzie.

First there'd been Jimmy Dalton, who'd spent time with Miss Fitzsimmons at a bar. Then the woman who'd worked for the same company as Kat Fitzsimmons.. And the death of Miss Fitzsimmon's friend. Who'd also worked at the same company. And now a man who looked very much like the gentleman who Kat Fitzsimmons was supposed to be marrying.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" Bill muttered under his breath. Someone was stalking Katya Fitzsimmons.

end chapter nine.
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thanks must go, as always, to my group of friends and moral supporters. they do really keep me going in the face of wanting to say fuck all and give up. you know, on those days when it seems that no one gives a shit. they all mean the world to me, even if i don't tell them enough. hugs to them all.

also, if you find that you like this despite its rather dark content, please feel free to let me know by leaving a review.

to Anon: thanks for the Happy New Year wishes. it hasn't been so far, but i'll manage. its okay that it took you a while to get to the review. RL and all is a bitch. however, i'm so glad that you continue to enjoy this. and my writing. i'm very insecure about it and am constantly amazed at what people have to say about it. the further into this fic i get, the more i find that there is so much to every one of the characters to discover. not just for you readers, but for me, as well. and Drum is already becoming more than what i first saw. it isn't quite Olde English. more like a literary picture of the Scottish accent. i don't know how accurate it is, only that that's how i hear them speaking in my head. Drum is turning out to be rather tragic but then, so is Mac. i hope you like this chapter as well and that it answers some questions.

to crimsondenial: true, this isn't really fanfic. it is an original. i'm trying to get published and this is an attempt at seeing how people deal with my darker visions. this is also a kind of therapy for me because i can use this to pour out all the negative feelings and the emotional turmoil. the characters will continue to develop as they have, with flashbacks to things in their past. i've always hated reading a book that has great characters and the author talks about things that happened in their past, but doesn't go into much detail and you're left wondering what the hell it was all about. so when i decide to go into backstories and details, i try to be thorough without being too thorough. i'm flattered that you read all of it in one sitting. Niki is actually the catalyst for this story. one day at work, i had a bunny bite me and the conversation between her and Gus in the first chapter hit me. the prologue followed and here we are. it is a touch on the bloody side, but i don't think i could write anything that didn't have a touch of sadistic content in it. i hope you continue to read and enjoy.

to Mallie3: in love with the story? speechless? stop or your praise will go right to my head. honestly, i'm pleased you're enjoying this. i have a hard time deciding which character i like more, Drum or Mac. i think i like the two of them equally because both of them are just that great to me. yes, there is alot missing, but i'm working on filling in the back pieces gradually, to build the story. so you will know everything by the time i'm finished. so i hope this one works for you.

to lovemesomehp: everything will fall into place eventually. just be paitient. and i'm glad you like it.