Jan 08, 2009 08:40
Chapter Two
Escalating Violence
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"Hey, Foreman! Check this out, dude," Kutner mumbled, flipping through the silky, plastic sleeves of a photo album. "There's pictures of Cut-Throat Bitch in here." He held up the album, like it was some kind of offering. Foreman blinked and strode over to the other man from where he'd been inspecting the huge, marble and granite fireplace. He loomed over the cinnamon-skinned man, peering at the pages of the album.
"That's Amber and Thirteen. And our patients." Foreman knelt down to look more closely at the photographs. "But... Amber and Thirteen never acted like anything other than colleagues. Strangers. And... they're foster sisters?"
"Apparently."
"Who's that?" Foreman pointed at one of the pictures, of Thirteen asleep on the shoulder of a man in a cloak and hood. They had to be adults, but they were dressed for Halloween. "Do you know him?"
Kutner shook his head. "Nope... did you hear that?" Somewhere in the gargantuan house, a floorboard creaked. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end, almost crackling with static expectation. He looked around, but all he saw was the gloomy house with the boarded up windows.
"I... didn't hear anything," Foreman replied, and then mumbled, "I still have to wonder why the windows are boarded up like this. Don't they have children here?"
"Yeah... do you think they have that UV allergy? That might account for the boarded windows and the thick drapes."
"Then, where is everybody?" Foreman murmured, and got to his feet. "This place is absolutely deserted. Not even any pets. If they did have children with UV allergies, they'd be at home. And there ought to be people here. The third woman brought into the hospital-"
"Marishka."
"Yeah, she said three of her siblings were still at home."
Somewhere below them, a floorboard creaked loudly. Kutner jumped and slammed the album shut, dropping the photo-receptacle on the dust-free floor. "Okay, lets get out of here. If any of the family members are still here, we don't want them finding us. We're breaking and entering, remember? Come on. We didn't find anything." He pulled out his slim Razor Phone, trying not to drop it from his sweat-slicked hands. His hands shook as he flipped the phone open and speed-dialed House. It felt as if something were slowly stalking him, silently approaching on slippered feet to pounce, attack, and kill.
"Yeah?"
"House, this is Kutner. We didn't find anything in the house. No medications, no alcohol, no toxins. We couldn't even find any cleaners or chemicals."
"The place must be a pigsty."
"Actually," the young man replied, scanning once again his luxurious surroundings of velvet, silks, leathers, satins, silver and gold, and expensive woods. "It's the cleanest house we've ever broken into. It's like no one even lives here."
"Come on back, and we'll talk to Thirteen and the patients again. One of them has to be lying t- what?"
"I... didn't say any-"
"Not you. Thirteen. She says you have to get out of the house immediately. Did you trigger an alarm or something?"
"Not that we know of, why?" The sense of being stalked was slowly building, like the oppressive ticking of a bomb counting down to the exact moment you would die.
"Thirteen got a call and freaked. She's almost screaming at me to get you guys out of the house. Is there a dog loose?"
"I don't hear any barking and we found no evidence of any pets. Birds, cats, dogs, rodents, nothing." It sounded like someone fumbled for the phone, and then Thirteen's voice came on the line.
"Both of you, get the hell out of that house, NOW! Get out, or you're dead. There's someone in the house, he's going to kill you if you don't get out right now! Now get out!"
The line went dead.
"Okay, that gives me the creeps," the younger man mumbled.
"Why so jumpy?" The black man inquired, perplexed. "What did House say?"
Another creak came from the hallway, loud and long, almost like the floor itself was screaming in agony. Kutner jumped and cried out, heart suddenly pounding.
"What is your problem?" His boss demanded. "It's just a house!"
"Oh, no," hissed a dry, sibilant voice like sere October winds. Kutner and Foreman whirled around to see a figure standing in the doorway, with long, worm-like fingers and a thin, ashen face. The ghoulish grin on that corpse-grey face bared cruelly gleaming teeth. "It is not... just... a house. You have trespassed in the house of my father. How dare you?"
"We... what the hell... we were sent by Dr. House-" Foreman began.
"Who you were sent by is of no concern to me. You work with my sister. My twin. Did she allow you here? Did she betray my existence? Tell you to find me? Betray our father's trust?!" The volume of his snarling rose with every word that dripped from his gray lips. When he spoke the word "trust," he slammed one malformed fist into the wall. "For her crimes, I shall have your blood."
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"Christian!" Remy cried desperately into the mouthpiece of her cellular phone, fiercely blocking out the bewildered stares of House and Taub. "Christian, two of my friends are in the house! You've got to do something!"
"Dammit, Rena, I warned you! Why did you not get them out? It is out of my hands, now."
"Christian, he'll kill them!"
"That is the price you pay for consorting with humans."
"They're trying to help Mama! What does Christabel say?"
"She's busy. Rena, I understand why you're frightened. You feel guilty because your own foolishness has brought about their deaths. But they have broken into our home, and they will pay the consequences. They are mere mortals, commoners. You'll get over it."
"But Christian! Christian, wait!" The line went dead. Remy screamed into the phone, "Christian! Christian, no, please! Christian!!" She threw the phone without looking to its aim, and the small electronic device was caught by Sasha, who calmly tossed it back to Remy. "Shit. Shit. Shit. He'll kill them. He'll kill them and it's all my fault-"
"Shut up," Sasha snarled, and pulled out her own phone. To House, she added, "Move Marishka and my mother into this room, immediately if you want your two doctors to survive this encounter." Flipping her cell open, she dialed the number for the local high school. She caught a glimpse of the tall, balding doctor going to relay her words to the nurses. "Ophelia?" Sasha spoke into her phone. There was a whisper of sound. "I need you down at the hospital. Flit if you must. You must guard Eustacia." More whispering conversation from the earpiece. "I? I am going home." And she hung up. "Remy, come."
"Wait, where are you going?" House demanded, and grabbed Sasha's arm. An electric tingling began in her fingers, and her teeth began to itch. For a long moment, she stared into the mortal doctor's piercing blue eyes. She swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. She had to force herself to say the necessary words.
"We're going to rescue your doctors. Either come with me or let me go, but make the choice now before I break your arm."
He let her go, though it required more effort than it should have to release her arm. When she and Thirteen ran off, he stumped after them as quickly as he could, ignoring the throbbing pain in his thigh. He caught up with them on the roof of the hospital. Somehow, they'd picked up an extra passenger on the way up.
"Wilson!"
"House," he replied, and sketched a salute, and then Thirteen grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her neck. "Um... what are you doing?"
"We're about to go flitting," Sasha answered for her, and she grabbed House's arm and did the same to it as Remy had done to Wilson's. She swallowed against the sensation of golden warmth spreading out from where his skin touched her. "Hold on."
And the world began to spin, and then everything went black.
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Foreman groaned and put a hand to his head, touching blood that had began congealing on his skin. He blinked, and wiggled his fingers and toes. Everything was working. He just had a wicked migraine. And his throat itched. When his scratching fingertips touched the torn flesh there, he winced and jerked his hand away.
"You mortals and your fear of pain."
Foreman turned to stare at the freakish, towering man in the doorway, standing beside a bloody, battered Kutner who lay unconscious on the floor.
"What... what did you do to him?" Foreman demanded.
"I enjoy playing with my food. My sister and I used to have such fun together doing so, until she ran away to human medical school. Unfortunately, I might have broken him. Oh, well." Baring sharp teeth in a ghastly caricature of a smile, the man who'd beaten the living crap out of Foreman took a single step forward when something hit him in the side of the head. Before he could reach down to retrieve the object that had hit him- it looked remarkably like a rock- a shadow flew at him, and he stumbled backwards, tripping over Kutner.
Foreman stared. He had to be hallucinating. Because a tall, slender young woman with a very long, sharp looking knife was standing protectively over Kutner, looking incredibly bored.
"You threw a rock at me!" The sibilant voice snarled in outrage. "How dare you!"
"Did it hurt?" The woman drawled.
"No, but you did not have to-"
"Sasha!" A familiar, womanly voice cried. Foreman blinked as Thirteen ran over to the fallen man- the man who'd been barely seconds away from butchering the two doctors- and knelt down, cradling his head in her arms. "I didn't want you to hurt him!"
"You said, 'Don't let him kill them.' Did he kill them? No, he didn't. He's still alive... erm... relatively speaking. Being lamia has to count for something," the tall woman replied to Thirteen. She had to be Sasha. Shoving jet black hair from her face, she added, "Gimpy, you might want to check on the baby doctor, here." She gently toed Kutner. "I have to make sure I didn't give Baby Brother a boo-boo."
"Shut your mouth, Sasha," the homicidal man snarled. "You stabbed me in the back."
"I didn't hit anything vital, Radu, don't be such a baby," Sasha replied acidly, wiping her knife on a patch of velvet on her micro-mini-skirt and flopping down onto a sofa as House stumped into the room, followed by Wilson. Both men jerked to a halt when their brains caught up with their eyes. Sasha went on, ignoring the humans, "And I can't believe you got distracted by a pitiful little rock."
"Who the hell is she?" Foreman demanded, indicating the reclining Sasha. House shook himself, trying to ignore the sight of Thirteen cradling what looked like a blood-spattered, animated corpse, and went to Foreman, checking his injuries while Wilson checked Kutner for a pulse.
"I'm the bloodsucking bitch who just saved your life by stabbing my brother. Who are you? Oh, and Wilson, don't worry, he still smells alive."
"Smells?" Wilson demanded.
"You know, for someone who wanted to bite me for spilling anything that even smelled like a secret, you're awfully chatty about things like blood sucking, Sasha," Thirteen sniped.
"Bite me," the other woman replied in a sing-song voice.
"Uhn... uhn, what... what the hell?" Kutner mumbled, and tried to sit up. Wilson forced him to lie back down on the floor. Thirteen got up from her place beside the would-be killer and knelt down beside her colleague. "Thirteen... what the hell happened? Where'd you come from? Where's Foreman?"
"I'm right here," the black man mumbled, and sat up, leaning against the wall. He touched his head and winced.
"You should have let me kill them, Rena!" The homicidal creature snarled. "You should kill them yourself! You are a member of this family! Kill them! They are a threat! They are trespassing in our father's house, Rena! Kill them! Rena, kill them!"
"Shut up, Radu," Sasha drawled, shifting on the sofa. "Not everyone is as homicidally feral as you are. And anyway, we gotta get back to the hospital. I can't afford to leave Eustacia alone for too long."
"You left our sister alone?" The creature, Radu, cried. "You left her unguarded?! Sasha, how could you? You know what is at stake!"
"What the hell is going on?" Foreman demanded.
"Are you telling me you think I can't do my job?" Sasha demanded, surging to her feet. The knife was back in her hand. "Is that what you're saying, Radu? You may be my brother, but I will take no disrespect-"
"Sasha!" Thirteen cried, grabbing her arm, but the dark haired woman jerked out of her grasp. "Sasha, stop it, now."
"I am a warrior of the Rampling Family! How dare you insinuate-"
The only thing that stopped her from attacking Radu was House's cane swatting right across her breasts, cutting her off midsentence and leaving a stinging welt. At the sharp, hot pain across her sensitive skin, she drew in a hissing breath and slashed her eyes at him. He stared back at her. She could barely discern his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the minute flare of his nostrils, the sound of air brushing past his lips. Her attention was devoured by the burning sapphire gaze pinning her consciousness.
What are you doing to me? She thought softly, sound strangely breathless, though her thoughts didn't need to breathe. Who are you, really? Everyone stared at them, holding their collective breath. Even Radu watched with shivering, irrepressible interest.
The knife-edged tension strung out between Sasha and House was broken by Nelly Furtado's Maneater playing on the crippled doctor's cellphone. He grabbed the irritating, electronic device, flipped it open, hit "Send" to activate the conversation, and snarled viciously into the phone, "What, Cuddy?" The Dean of Medicine shrieked and whimpered by turns into the phone. The only word Sasha could understand was "shoot." As Cuddy continued speaking, House's grip on his cane grew tighter and tighter. Finally, all the doctor muttered tersely into the mouthpiece was, "We're on our way." He closed the phone and gazed at Sasha. Now, his expression was softer, gentler. Then he looked at Thirteen with that same expression. The face he turned to a snarling, growling Radu was one of contempt.
"Why do you stare at me, mortal?" Radu demanded.
"Someone shot up the hospital. Your mom and Marishka are in critical condition. Both were hit in the fire. The police are on their way. Someone told Cuddy they needed Sasha."
The woman in question felt something frigid touch her heart, filling her veins with liquid ice. Her stomach rumbled quietly, and instinctively she tongued her eyeteeth and canines, feeling the thin points sliding further and further out of her gums. She sheathed her knife and glanced at everyone in the room. She winked at Foreman and Kutner, who looked more than a little disturbed at her gesture. Then she looked at House.
"There will be blood," she told him softly. "And plenty of violence. I can get there faster on my own."
"How will we get back to the hospital?" Kutner asked. Sasha ignored him, just kept looking at House.
"My car's in the garage," Remy replied, going back to Radu's side. She pulled him to his feet, dusting him off. "I'll take you back. Sasha, get out of here. Go on. You've got renegades to kill."
Sasha nodded, and turned to leave the room, when House grabbed her arm. She found herself staring into those cobalt eyes again, nearly blinded by the gleaming brilliance of his gaze. She felt almost like she was drowning, but there was plenty of air. She tasted sweetness on the back of her tongue.
"Don't die," House managed to grind out from between clenched teeth.
"Yes, because I can so totally tell you actually mean it," she replied sarcastically, smirking. Sobering, she added, "Don't go into the hospital until I give you the word. Understand? I can't protect you and kill whoever's shooting up the hospital at the same time. You must understand. Do not come into the hospital until I call your phone. Please?"
"Well, well," Radu murmured. "Sasha says please?"
"That word's actually in your vocabulary?" Remy added. "Sasha, go away. Go kill things."
"Shut up, Rena," her sister replied.
"Don't call me-"
"Promise me you won't come into the hospital, dammit!" She cried, grabbing House's cane out of his hands. "I swear I will beat you to death if you don't promise me, right now." She couldn't explain why she was so desperate to keep the obnoxious doctor out of danger, but she knew that if there was a choice between Eustacia, her sister and employer, and House's safety, she'd freeze, and probably get it in the chest with several silver bullets. She had to keep him away.
"I promise," House conceded, sighing.
"Thank you," she replied, and the right corner of her mouth curled up. House's eyes zeroed in on the dimple in her right cheek. "See ya later." And she disappeared- that flitting thing she'd done before. The call came just as Remy was pulling up in front of the hospital, with the four men in her '99 black Toyota Camry. But it wasn't from Sasha.
It was Cuddy. The shooters were dead in the lobby. The police had taken statements from some child patients who'd been saved, as well as Marishka and Lucinda Rampling. They were removing the bodies of the shooters. There were no civilian casualties, and the only injuries were the Rampling women. That was all fine and dandy.
But Sasha was missing.
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So, here's chapter two. I actually managed to churn it out in less than a week. Only because my roommate's going out of town for the week, though, and wasn't on our comp. Anyway, escalating violence, literally. Hope you likey. Reviews? Also, there was a few changes to Chapter One that weren't there before. Hope you enjoyed that, too. And again, I love readers to give me suggestions and such.