This story originally appeared in the zine Highland Blades #1. Copies of this zine are still available. Contact Linda for more information.
By Laura F. Schomberg
Richie Ryan sat in the back of the class, remembering his conversation with Duncan MacLeod earlier this week. MacLeod had been pressuring him to go to college for some time but had been surprised when Richie choose nearby Rainier University over the local community college.
"You sure you want to dive into the university without getting some experience at the community college first?"
"What's the problem, Mac? You don't think I can handle this?"
"I just don't want to see you get in over your head."
"Don't worry about it," Richie had shouted before storming out of the dojo.
Now Richie thought maybe Mac had been right, maybe he should have gone to the community college first. He'd been to three classes so far this week. Two, freshman literature and geometry, didn't seem like they would be too bad. It was the class he sat in now that worried him.
When he first signed up for the anthropology course, he thought it would be interesting and easy. After all, he had intimate experience with people from long dead cultures. Now he wasn't so sure. The instructor, Blair Sandburg, wasn't discussing people from cultures like Mac and Amanda. He was talking about remote villages in the jungle, something about which Richie knew nothing.
As he sat contemplating dropping the course, the instructor's enthusiasm for his topic began to affect Richie. While Blair discussed his own experiences and how they could relate to modern society Richie decided to at least try anthropology until the first test.
Sandburg wrapped up the lecture and asked, "Who has the sign in list?"
A blonde girl, sitting near the back, raised the sheet of paper before getting out of her seat to bring it to the instructor.
"Thanks. If you didn't get a chance to sign it please do so before you leave," Sandburg said, dismissing the class.
Richie took his time getting his books together. While he hadn't signed the list, he wasn't in any rush to get caught up in the mass of students crowding around the instructor. Most students were waiting to sign in but Richie noticed a number of girls who seemed more interested in chatting with the young instructor.
Blair Sandburg was younger then Richie's other instructors, maybe four or five years older than he himself, and he surely didn't look like any of his other instructors. He was about 5' 8" with shoulder length, dark, curly, brown hair. He wore jeans and a long sleeved, ribbed, blue sweater that seemed to be too big for the slim man. Richie had noticed his clear vivid blue eyes and easy smile when Blair had handed him a syllabus as he entered the class.
Richie finally moved to the front of the class as the last students left the room. He dropped his backpack on the floor before leaning over to sign the attendance sheet.
"Decided to stay?"
Richie jerked his head up in surprise at Blair's question. "What?"
Blair grinned, saying, "I noticed the fear on your face when I first started the lecture, man. That usually means the student's planning on dropping the class."
Richie returned the smile and shrugged. "I was expecting something else but I think I'll stay."
"Good. Ready to go?" he asked, turning to grab his black leather jacket from a chair.
Richie nodded and the two men left the classroom.
"So why did you pick this course?" Blair asked as they walked out of the building and over to the parking lot.
"I have a friend who . . . well he's always talking about how people lived a long time ago and I guess I thought it'd be easy."
"And listening to the lecture, you realized that it wouldn't be quite what you expected?"
"Yeah, but it sounds pretty interesting."
"Oh it is. It is, man," Blair said, coming to a stop at the end of the sidewalk.
Richie stopped next Blair, glancing to his motor bike parked in the lot a few feet away, before extending his right hand to Blair.
"Thanks to your lecture, I'm looking forward to the class again, Mr. Sandburg."
Blair laughed as he reached forward and shook Richie's hand. "Call me Blair. I'm not old enough to be Mr. Sandburg."
"Okay. I'm Richie Ryan," Richie said, pointing toward his bike.
"I've got to go or I'll be late to work."
"See you Thursday."
Richie nodded distractedly as he felt the unmistakable pull of another immortal. He turned and scanned the surrounding area but wasn't able to locate the source of disturbance. Briefly he considered searching for the immortal but decided that wouldn't be wise since Blair was already expecting him to leave the school.
"Something wrong, man?"
Richie shook his head and turned back to Blair. "No. Just thought I saw someone I knew. It wasn't though."
Blair looked at the blonde man in concern. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Richie said. "I've got to get moving."
"All right. See you later."
Richie waved as he jogged toward his bike. Blair watched him for a moment before turning and heading to his car, parked a few feet from the entrance to the parking lot.
Walking to his car, Blair watched Richie as he came to a stop at the entrance to the lot. He saw the young man turn his head from side to side. When he didn't leave the lot, Blair realized that it was almost as if Richie was looking for something not simply checking for oncoming traffic. Confused, he pulled his keys out of his pocket as he reached his grey Corvair.
Blair was about to put the key in the door when he heard the roar of an engine behind him. He turned, looking for the source of the noise. A large black Lincoln Continental came barreling through the lot, heading for the exit.
"Richie!" Blair yelled, watching in horror as the car aimed for his student's motorbike.
Sound is muted when you wear a motorcycle helmet. Richie didn't hear the quickly approaching car until it was almost on top of him. Finally, the sound registered through the helmet and Richie jerked around. He had no time to get out of the way as the car struck his rear tire.
The impact sent Richie and his bike flying over the hood of the black car. Richie's head struck the windshield before he slid over the top of the car and then crashed to the ground, away from his bike. Momentum sent him rolling until a nearby parked car brought him to a halt as the Continental raced out of the lot.
Richie managed to pull himself out from under the car. As he lifted his arms to take off his helmet a fiery pain bit into his right arm. He quickly lowered it and tried to pull off the helmet with his uninjured arm. He heard the sound of footsteps racing toward him, as he awkwardly pulled off the helmet.
"Richie!" Blair ran over to the injured man, dropping to his knees at his side. "Oh man. Somebody call an ambulance!" he shouted, noticing how Richie held his right arm against his body. He reached out and put a hand on the other man's shoulder. Looking him over quickly he couldn't help but notice the blood on Richie's right hand and wrist, blood that appeared to come from somewhere under his jacket.
Richie shook his head. "No. I'll be fine."
"You're hurt!"
Richie took on an attitude of nonchalance as he said, "It looks worse then it is and besides I'm a fast healer."
Blair shook his head, confused. "We've got to call the campus police and report this."
Richie sighed, he couldn't explain that the driver of the car was an immortal. "Look. I don't want to be late for work. Besides, it's my fault. I didn't get out of the way fast enough."
"But . . ."
"Please Blair. If I don't get to work on time I'll lose my job," Richie pleaded. He decided to deflect some of the instructor's concern with his ever present charm, "If I lose my job, how will I afford your class."
"You're nuts, man," Blair said, helping Richie to his feet. "At least let me take you to work."
Richie nodded. "Thanks. Can you help me move my bike?"
"I'll get it. My car's the gray Corvair over there," he said, pointing to his car. Tossing Richie his keys he added, "Why don't you go sit in it."
Richie smiled his thanks before turning and limping between the students who had gathered to see what the fuss was all about. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. As he eased into the seat, he saw Blair roll his bike over to a tree. He propped it up and turned to run for the car.
Richie leaned over to unlock the door before Blair reached the car. Blair opened the door and dropped into the driver's seat, turning to Richie.
"You sure you don't want me to take you to a hospital?"
Richie shook his head, handing back Blair's keys. "No. Really, I'm fine."
Blair stared at the young immortal for a long moment before finally reaching a decision. He knew he would probably regret it but he decided to do as Richie asked.
"Okay. Where do you want me to take you?"
Richie leaned back into the seat. "Seattle. I'll tell you where to turn."
**************
The call of another immortal brought Duncan down from the loft. He arrived in time to see Richie entering the dojo followed closely by an unknown, long haired, young man. The two men crossed the dojo floor and Duncan spotted Richie's tattered clothes. He picked up his pace to greet the men in the center of the dojo.
"What happened?"
"Oh, I've had a great day too. Thanks for asking," Richie answered sarcastically. He took a deep breath. "Sorry Mac. It's been a long day. I had a bit of an accident."
"I'll say."
The dark haired mortal stepped up beside Richie and discretely cleared his throat. Richie turned. "Oh right. Sorry. Mac, this is Blair Sandburg. He's my anthropology instructor. He also saw the accident. My bike was trashed so he gave me a ride. Blair this is Duncan MacLeod. He's my boss, and a friend."
Duncan reached out and took Blair's offered hand. He noticed the concerned looks that Blair kept directing at his young protegee. "Thanks for giving Richie a ride. I'm sure he'll be fine."
Blair looked at Duncan in surprise. He turned to stare at Richie, deciding to call a friend as soon as possible and ask his advice.
"Yeah. Right, man. Um, can I borrow your phone? I was supposed to meet someone 15 minutes ago," Blair easily lied.
When Duncan hesitated Richie answered, "There's one in the office. Mac, I'm going to take a shower and change into some clean clothes."
Duncan nodded. He listened to Richie walk to the showers as he watched Blair head to the office. Duncan didn't know what had happened to Richie or if it involved another immortal but he was certain that this mortal wasn't happy with whatever explanation Richie had given him. He wasn't sure who the young man was calling but he suspected it wasn't someone who was waiting on his arrival.
**************
Duncan and Blair had spent the last several minutes talking about what had happened to Richie, their mutual connection to the university, and the weather. Neither sat down, instead they moved around the dojo, like fighters looking for an opening. Neither man was sure they trusted the other for the same reason, what Blair had witnessed happen to Richie. Blair wasn't happy with the explanation he had been given and Duncan was concerned that Blair would tell the police what he had seen.
The sound of the door to the dojo opening caused both men to turn, Blair becoming noticeably relaxed when he saw who had entered the building. Duncan watched him rush over to the tall, muscular man with short cropped, dark brown hair.
"Jim, how did you get here so fast?" Blair asked in a low voice.
Jim turned pale blue eyes on Blair as he answered, "I was at a meeting with the Seattle police. Seems we're working on similar cases."
"This whole afternoon has been really weird, man. I know he was hurt pretty badly but I couldn't get him to go to a hospital."
Jim looked over at the tall man with dark hair standing behind Blair. "He looks fine to me, Chief."
"That's not the person who was hit by a car," Blair said before turning to smile awkwardly at Duncan.
Duncan took a few steps forward and greeted the newcomer. "Hello. I don't believe we've met."
Jim turned to Blair, waiting for the younger man to do the honors.
"Jim this is Duncan MacLeod. He's Richie Ryan's boss."
"The student that you told me got hit by a car?"
"Right. Richie's taking a shower right now. Duncan this is my roommate, Lt. Jim Ellison. He's with major crimes in the Cascade police department."
Duncan shook Jim's hand, trying to keep his discomfort at the turn this day had taken from showing on his face. It was just like Richie's luck to get hit by a car in front of someone who lived with a police detective. Although he had to admit, observing the two men standing beside each other, they didn't look like two people who would even know each other much less live together.
Duncan judged the two men to have about a ten-year difference in age. The older man, Jim Ellison, moved with a grace that came with knowing what his body could do and keeping it in excellent shape. Blair Sandburg, on the other hand, didn't look like someone who knew what the inside of a gym looked like. He appeared to be one of those lucky individuals who would always be thin without worrying about what he ate. He also looked like someone highly involved in the college culture. The type of person who normally wouldn't be found near a cop. Duncan wondered what had ever brought these two people together.
"Nice to meet you."
"You too," Jim said before turning to Blair. "Chief, I hope you drove here cause otherwise we don't have a ride home."
Blair nodded. "Yeah, I drove Richie here from the university. How'd you get here?"
"Simon dropped me off. We had just left the meeting when you called."
"Meeting about a case you're working on?" Duncan asked nonchalantly.
Jim nodded, moving around the dojo, inspecting the equipment. "Have you heard about some unusual deaths here in Seattle over the last four years?"
Duncan shook his head. He had never been a religious man since becoming immortal but he now prayed that this detective wasn't about to tell him that these deaths involved beheadings.
"Huh. They haven't kept these deaths out of the paper. You sure you haven't heard about some beheadings?"
"Oh yes. I've heard of those."
"Well whoever was working Seattle seems to have moved to Cascade. Our forces have decided to try and work together on these cases."
Duncan noticed that Ellison didn't sound very happy to be sharing this case with the Seattle division. He was about to ask him why when the detective turned to look at the doors leading into the locker room. Duncan followed his gaze and saw Richie exit through the door. He came down the stairs from the lockers, dressed in sweatpants and a short sleeved T-shirt, rubbing a towel over his hair.
The detective turned and quickly walked over to the young immortal, reaching the bottom step at the same time. He noticed that Richie's right arm, which Blair had insisted was badly injured, didn't seem to be hurt.
"You must be Richie Ryan," Jim said, reaching forward with both arms. He took the startled young man's right hand in his and reached his left-hand forward to grasp his arm near the elbow. He felt a slight tingling and warmth in the arm that he couldn't feel in the blonde's hand. Confused by the sensation, he released his grip on the man.
"Sandburg called me and told me what happened. He was hoping I could talk you into going to a hospital."
Richie turned from the tall man standing in front of him to look at Blair and Duncan. Duncan stepped forward, saying, "Richie, this is Jim Ellison. He's Blair's roommate. He's with . . . major crime?" Jim nodded. "In Cascade."
Unable to conceal the stunned look that crossed his face, Richie stammered, "Oh, um. Pleased to meet you."
Jim nodded as Blair came forward, trying to get a better look at Richie's injuries.
"But your arm was bleeding?!? It should have some sign of an injury."
Richie glanced at his college instructor and then looked at his arm. Thinking quickly, he said, "Oh, that. There's a cut on my upper arm, under the sleeve. It's stopped bleeding already and doesn't even hurt."
Duncan and Richie both noticed the look of disbelief that took hold of Blair's face. Duncan was about to speak when Jim moved to Blair and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Come on, Blair. Don't let your imagination run away with you again," he said. Blair turned to look at him, blinking in confusion.
"Obviously Richie is going to be just fine. Why don't we leave them alone?"
"But, Jim!"
Jim ignored the young man's protests and steered him toward the front doors of the dojo. Richie watched them leave as he walked over to stand next to Duncan. Both immortals saw the two men pause on the other side of the glass door.
"I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't know his roommate was a cop."
"I know, Richie. Too late to do anything about that now. Maybe you should drop this class. Put some distance between the two of you."
Richie nodded reluctantly. "Mac, the man who ran me down was one of us."
"Are you sure?"
Richie nodded. Looking back at the door, he was surprised to see Jim looking at them. The younger man apparently said something and the detective shook his head and headed out of the building.
Duncan was the first to break the silence that had fallen between them. "Are you going to drop that class?"
Richie nodded. "Right now, if you take me. I have to get my bike anyway."
"Let's give them a few minutes to leave."
**************
Jim stopped on the other side of the door and released his hold on Blair who immediately stepped away and turned to confront his friend.
"Why did you drag me out of there?"
"Sshhh!"
Jim was confused by the conversation that he could hear through the door. "One of us," he whispered, turning to get a better look at the two men in the other room.
"What's going on?"
Jim shook his head and walked out of the building, closely followed by Blair.
**************
"What are we doing here, Jim?" a tall, black man asked as he entered the dim bar.
"I was about to ask you that too," said Blair, following Jim and his captain, Simon Banks, into the building. The three men walked over to an empty table near the bar and sat down.
"Simon, you haven't been out since you signed your divorce papers. Hannigan with the Seattle PD recommended this place. Supposed to be a great jazz/blues bar."
"Jazz?"
Jim signaled the bartender. "Sorry it's not that obnoxious music you like, Junior."
Blair crossed his hands back and forth in front of him. "That's not true. I like jazz."
"Could have fooled me," Jim replied as the bartender limped over to their table.
The bartender, Joe Dawson, stepped up to the table, order pad in hand. He glanced over the three men at the table, stopping to stare at a familiar face. The man, broad shouldered with closely cut, black hair offsetting his dark face, looked up at Joe.
"Is there something wrong?"
Joe shook his head. "No. You just . . . Have we ever met?"
"I don't think so."
"The resemblance is uncanny," Joe muttered to himself. "Well then, what would you guys like to drink?"
"Beer," the three men said in unison.
"You want a pitcher?"
Jim and Simon nodded while Blair shrugged.
"Before I go get the beer I'll need to see your id," Joe said, turning to the youngest member of the group.
Blair sighed and reached into his jacket, pulled out his wallet, and handed it to Joe. "I hate being carded."
"Enjoy it now, Kid. It won't last forever," Simon replied.
"Sorry, Mr. Sandburg. I don't want to lose my license," Joe said, handing the wallet back to Blair. "A pitcher of beer coming right up," he added before turning and heading back to the bar.
"So tell me again what happened today," Simon ordered, turning to Blair.
Jim and Blair quickly told Simon the afternoon's events once again.
"You sure the injuries you saw weren't in your imagination?" Simon asked Blair.
Blair slammed a hand against the table. "I don't have that active an imagination!"
"Simon, it was weird," Jim said, drawing the attention away from Blair. "The kid told Sandburg he had a cut on his upper arm but I didn't smell any blood. When I held his arm I felt some sort of strange tingle."
"You didn't tell me about that. What did it feel like?" Blair asked.
"I don't know. Static electricity. And his arm was warm near the elbow."
Simon shook his head. "Didn't you tell me he had just taken a shower? Could that be what made his arm warm?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Like I said, it was weird."
"I might have a book that explains some of this back at my office."
"Look, Teach, I'm sure you have a book that could explain crop circles but that isn't going to help here."
Blair rolled his eyes in disgust. He was about to respond when he suddenly sat up straight and whispered, "They're here."
Jim and Simon turned in their seats trying to get a good look at the door. They watched as two men, one tall with long dark hair pulled back the other shorter, with long legs and blond hair, entered and walked over to the bar. The bartender came over to greet them while the younger man turned to scan the bar. When his eyes caught sight of Blair and Jim at their table, Blair waved. The blond nodded, returning the wave, and turned quickly back to the bar.
**************
"Mac, they're here."
"Who's here?" Duncan asked without turning around.
"Blair and his friend," Richie replied, jerking his head back toward their table.
Duncan turned and saw Jim, Blair and another man watching them. He nodded briefly before turning to Joe. "Did you talk to them, yet?"
"They ordered a pitcher of beer. What's wrong, Mac?"
"Hopefully nothing. Have you ever seen those men before?"
Joe shook his head. "Although I could have sworn that the one man over there was Carl Robinson."
Duncan turned back around and took a good look at the man sitting facing the bar. Without facing Joe he said, "It's too dark to tell for sure. But he's mortal. Joe did you get a chance to do that favor I asked you about earlier?"
"Get a line of who may have run down Richie? I'm working on it."
"What are we going to do?" Richie asked, tilting his head toward the men behind them.
"What else can we do, Richie? We'll go over and join them."
"But Mac . . ."
"Richie, they've already seen both of us and we've seen them. It would look odd if we didn't go over and at least say hi."
Joe reached over and grabbed Duncan's arm. "Would you play waiter for me and take them their drinks?"
Duncan nodded and waited for Joe to finish preparing their tray. He took the tray Joe handed him and led Richie over to the men's table.
"Joe asked me to bring you this," he said, putting down the tray.
"Thanks," Blair replied. "Why don't you two join us?"
Duncan nodded his thanks and sat down between Jim and Blair. Richie reluctantly turned to find an empty chair and then pulled it over to sit next to Simon. When everyone was seated, Blair introduced the two immortals to Simon.
Duncan stared at Simon. Joe was right. He looked just like Carl.
"Something wrong?"
Duncan nodded. "Not at all. You look like someone I know." He turned to Richie. "You remember that Chief's game I took you to over the summer?"
Richie nodded.
"Remember meeting my old friend, Carl Robinson?"
Richie's eyes squinted as he tried to remember yet another of Duncan's old friends. Looking at Jim's captain helped Richie place a face to the name Duncan had mentioned.
"Wow. You really do look like him."
Jim turned to regard his roommate. "I told you he looked like Simon. But you insisted that I was wrong."
Blair shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. I said I couldn't see him well enough to tell."
"Would somebody tell me who you are all talking about?"
Turning to Simon, Jim said, "The pitcher for the Chief's is Carl Robinson. You two could be twins."
"Doppelganger," Blair added.
"What?" Simon asked, sounding slightly irritated.
"Doppelganger. It's a double for someone. All sorts of cultures have stories about them."
**************
The five men sat around the table enjoying the music and the company and avoiding talking about the events earlier in the day. Most of the conversation centered around sports.
Suddenly noticing the time, Richie said, "Ten o'clock! Damn! I've got a class in the morning."
"Oh man. So do I," Blair said. "Do you need a ride home?"
Richie turned to Duncan and noticed he was deep in conversation with Jim. Turning back to Blair, he shrugged. "Yeah. Thanks."
Blair nodded, reaching around Duncan to wave his hand in front of Jim's face. When the man didn't respond he snapped his fingers and shouted over the music, "Hey Jim!"
"What?" Jim asked.
"I'm going to take Richie home. Meet you back at the loft."
"And how am I supposed to get there?"
"Don't worry Jim. I'll give you a lift," Simon replied.
**************
The two young men rode through the nearly empty streets surrounded in silence, interrupted only by the occasional indication to turn by Richie. He was about to indicate another turn when Blair suddenly spoke.
"Hey, Richie. I've got something back at the university that you might want to see. Do you have to time to go there now?"
Richie's heart sank. He was hoping to end this evening quickly and tried to think of an answer. Realizing that anything but an affirmative answer might arouse Blair's suspicions, he nodded. It was going to be a long night.
**************
Forty minutes after Richie and Blair left, Joe caught Duncan's attention and gestured for him to come to the bar. Duncan excused himself and quickly went to hear what Joe had to say.
"Get something?"
Joe nodded. He didn't look pleased. "You won't like it, Mac. Ever hear of an immortal named Tom Cranouer?"
Duncan shook his head.
"Probably a good thing. He likes being the only immortal in the area."
"And now he's living in Cascade," Duncan stated.
Joe rubbed a hand across his salt and pepper beard as he nodded. "And working at Rainier University in the anthropology department. Mac, he'll come after Richie again. And he's good."
"Can I borrow your phone?"
Joe pulled the phone out from under the bar and handed it to Duncan. He quietly watched while the immortal dialed a number which he recognized. It belonged to Richie.
Duncan listened to the phone ring fourteen times before finally hanging up. He turned to regard the men at the table he had left.
"Richie's not answering," he told Joe before walking over to the table.
When he reached the table, he leaned down and asked Jim, "Do you know where your friend may have taken Richie?"
"What's wrong?"
"Probably nothing. I just couldn't reach him."
"I bet he wanted to show Richie that damned book he was talking about," Simon commented to Jim.
"What book?"
Jim closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Some book which he might have at the university which might explain what happened today."
"The university?"
"Something wrong?"
Duncan ignored the question. "Where is his office at the university?"
Jim regarded the man standing in front of him before answering, "I'll show you. See you in the morning Simon."
"Fine, just don't tell me what's going on," Simon complained to the backs of the men hurrying out of the bar.
**************
"What exactly did you want to show me?" Richie asked, taking in Blair's office as he sat on the edge of the lone desk.
The office was really an artifact storage area that doubled as an office. A few file cabinets lined the wall next to Richie. Behind him sat a portable stereo amid stacks of files that threatened to tumble from the desk.
Blair was rummaging through a pile of books on one of the file cabinets. He found what he was looking for and pulled the book out of the stack, barely catching the top most book as it started to fall.
"A friend of mine gave me this a couple of years ago. It's about various legends and myths in certain cultures. No solid evidence," Blair said, bringing the book over to Richie.
"One of the chapters deals with a myth that can be found in various cultures about people who cannot die."
Richie's face blanched at the instructor's comment. Blair didn't notice as he thumbed through the book trying to find the chapter in question.
"Now I'm sure that is just an exaggeration but they also say that these people can heal very quickly from serious injuries."
Richie was about to attempt a joke to divert Blair's attention when he felt the pull of another immortal. He turned distractedly toward the closed door and unconsciously reached for his sword. He wasn't sure who was out there but he knew it couldn't be Duncan.
"What's wrong, Richie?"
Richie turned to Blair. Pulling out his rapier and heading to the door, he said, "Stay here."
Blair watched Richie leave, confusion spreading across his face.
**************
Richie shut the door quickly behind him. Stepping into the dimly lit hallway he scanned both directions until he saw a dark shadow move away from the wall to his left.
"No car this time?" Richie, asked, guessing at the immortal's identity.
"That was just a warning, boy. This place is mine," the immortal stated as he moved into the light.
Richie shrugged as he tried to judge the raven haired immortal in front of him. The man was about two inches taller than Richie and appeared to have a twenty-five-pound advantage with broad shoulders.
Richie hefted his rapier and stated, "I'm Richie Ryan and I'm not a boy."
The man harshly laughed. "Tom Cranouer and this is my university. Boy," he said before charging at Richie.
**************
Blair stood with an ear against the door. Listening to the sound of metal against metal, he decided to do what he usually did when told not to do something. Ignore it. Opening the door, he looked out.
The sight that met his eyes surprised him more then anything he had ever seen before. Richie and a Professor Cranouer he remembered meeting a few weeks before were fighting. With swords! As Blair watched in breathless silence, Richie stumbled and Cranouer took the opportunity to land a deep, slicing blow to his right leg.
Blair turned and ran back into his office, looking for something to use against Richie's attacker. Spotting the portable stereo on his desk, he dashed forward and grabbed it as he turned and raced back to the door.
Opening the door again, Blair saw Richie fall to his knees. Cranouer raised his sword and swung at Richie's neck.
"No!" Blair yelled, slamming the stereo against the professor's arm, knocking the sword out of his hands. Before the man could react, Blair brought the stereo crashing into his forehead. Cranouer slumped to the ground and Blair rammed the now broken stereo into the back of his head. Cranouer dropped, unmoving, to the ground.
Blair took several deep breaths as he looked at the man laying at his feet. Turning his attention to the shattered stereo he still held, he dropped it to the ground.
Richie pulled himself to his feet, one hand held to a bloody wound at his side. Blair's breathing was ragged as he knelt beside Cranouer, checking his throat for a pulse. He didn't find one.
"I killed him," he barely managed to gasp out.
Richie shook his head and stepped over the temporarily dead immortal to grab Blair with his free hand. "Come on," he said, as he dragged the man to his feet and then down the hall.
Blair turned to look back at the man he had killed, forcing Richie to stop.
"He's not going to be that way for long," Richie stated, jerking Blair back around.
"What?" Blair asked as he allowed himself to be pulled along by Richie.
Richie didn't respond. He was too worried about getting Blair out of the building before Cranouer came back to life.
**************
Duncan quickly drove to the university in silence. Jim sat in the passenger seat, his tension mounting.
"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"
No. I don't, Duncan thought but he didn't see any way to avoid the issue.
"The man who runs the bar is a friend of mine. He has certain connections. One of those connections suggested that the person who ran Richie down worked at the university and may try it again."
Jim nodded quietly. It wasn't much in the way of an explanation but it was more then he had been expecting. Jim couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right with Duncan and his employee. He just wished he'd been paying more attention to Blair when he said he was leaving. He didn't want the kid anywhere near these two.
"Why don't you tell me what Richie meant when he said the person who hit him was 'one of us'."
Duncan was so surprised by Jim's request that he almost lost control of the car. Jim seemed unfazed as he silently watched the immortal steady the car's movement.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do. Richie made the statement this afternoon, when Blair and I were leaving."
"Exactly how did you hear that?"
It was now Jim's turn to look uncomfortable, realizing he had given away too much information. He leaned forward to peer out of the T-Bird's windshield as Duncan turned the car into the university parking lot.
"That's the building over there," he said, pointing to the dark building to the right of the lot.
Duncan steered the car over to the building and came to a stop as Jim opened the passenger door. The man was already running toward the entrance when Duncan turned off the engine. Not bothering to shut the door behind him, Duncan took off in the same direction.
*************
Richie had to drag Blair through the anthropology building. Blair seemed to be in shock from the results of his actions. Richie felt sorry for the man but he didn't believe there was enough time to stop and teach him about the fundamentals of immortality.
He felt the presence of another immortal as they neared the stairway exit. Cranouer couldn't have gotten in front of them that quickly, of that much Richie was certain, but he wasn't about to take any chances. Pushing Blair back underneath the stairs, he raised his rapier, prepared to defend the mortal's life.
The door swung open and a large dark shape entered the building. Richie couldn't make out any features of the person standing in front of him nor was he certain that this was the immortal he was still feeling.
"What happened to you? And where's Blair?"
Richie lowered his weapon in relief, recognizing the voice of Blair's roommate. The stairway was suddenly flooded with light, surprising both Richie and Jim. Richie realized that it was Duncan, standing behind Jim, who had turned on the lights.
"Jim," Blair said, stepping out from under the stairs and moving around Richie. "I killed him. I didn't think I'd hit him hard enough but I must have 'cause he didn't have a pulse," Blair said, his words coming out in a rush. "I just . . . I . . . He was going to take Richie's head. I didn't know what to do."
Jim stood in front of the younger man and placed his hands on his shoulders. "It's okay, Chief. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."
Blair followed Jim's instructions as Duncan moved around the mortals to check on Richie. He could tell that the detective wouldn't be happy with any explanation the two immortals tried to create. There was too much blood on Richie's clothes.
"It's healed already," Richie whispered to Duncan. The detective's sudden sharp look in Richie's direction confirmed Duncan's suspicions. The immortals weren't the only ones who had some explaining to do.
"Blair, it sounds like you did the right thing. I'm going to check on the body. Why don't you stay here?"
Blair nodded and Jim turned to go down the stairs.
"Stay here, Richie," Duncan ordered, following into step beside the detective.
*************
The two men walked in silence until they reached the door to Blair's office. Jim stayed away from the door as he surveyed the area. There was a lot of blood but no body.
"Sandburg has a pretty active imagination at times but he's good about keeping his head in stressful situations. Doesn't seem likely that he'd make a mistake about a dead man."
Duncan shrugged. "I'd say we both have our stories to tell."
"Not here." Duncan nodded in agreement. "Our place isn't too far from here."
"Let's get out of here. I don't like leaving Richie and Blair alone up there," Duncan said.
*************
"I just don't understand," Blair said as Jim handed him a cup of coffee. "I was certain the man was dead."
"He was," Duncan replied from his seat on the sofa, taking a cup of coffee from the tray Jim held.
Richie, sitting beside him, shook his head when Jim offered him a coffee. He was already wired from his earlier fight.
Jim shrugged and took the remaining cups to his dining table and sat down on a chair next to Blair. He waited patiently as Duncan took a couple of sips of coffee.
"Richie and I, along with Cranouer, are immortal."
"What? You mean you can't die?"
"I wish," Richie muttered.
"There is one way to kill us . . ."
"Beheadings," Jim concluded as certain aspects of the case he was working on fell into place.
Duncan nodded.
Jim turned to Blair. "How long has Cranouer been working at the university?"
"He was hired about two months ago. But what you're thinking . . . Wait a minute. One of the legends in that book I showed Richie involved a small clan in Scotland where a warrior was killed in battle and then came back to life, twice. The clan name was MacLeod."
Duncan chuckled. "That old myth made it to a book? Actually there were two MacLeods who were killed in battle and yet came back to life. I was the second one, almost 400 years ago."
Jim grunted, still not sure he believed the immortality aspect of the man's story. "Both beheadings in Cascade occurred in the last two months."
"Cranouer doesn't like other immortals to live nearby."
"Nice guy. But I still have one question. How many of the beheadings in Seattle are you two responsible for?"
Richie turned wide eyes to Duncan. The older man seemed unfazed by the detective's question.
"I've had my share. I usually don't fight unless I have to."
"Usually?"
"There have been times when an immortal needed to be stopped. When he was hurting mortals," Duncan admitted.
"So you took it upon yourself to kill them?"
Duncan shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to think of a way to gain the detective's trust. He was still trying to come up with a solution when Blair broke the suddenly oppressive silence.
"You do the same thing, Jim. You hunt for people who need to be stopped."
"But I don't kill them, Blair."
"You killed Lash," Blair stated, referring to a serial killer Jim had killed before he had the chance to kill Blair.
Jim admitted to himself that Blair might be right. He tilted his head and regarded Duncan for a long time. Deciding to let the situation play itself out, he said, "It's not like I could prove anything."
Richie relaxed. Maybe he could resign up for that anthropology class.
"You still haven't told me how you could hear a quiet conversation between Richie and myself from the other side of a closed door."
Blair turned to Jim, his eyes wide. "You told him what you heard?"
"It's a bit complicated. Blair would probably be better able to explain it then me."
Blair took a deep breath. "Several months ago Jim started having strange experiences with his senses. He came to see me . . . "
"You tricked me."
"Okay, I tricked him into coming to see me because I knew what was happening to him. He has inherited enhanced senses. Something the explorer Sir Richard Burton described among primitive tribal cultures as Sentinel abilities."
Blair paused, noticing the confusion on the faces of the men on the sofa. "In a nutshell it means that Jim can hear, see, touch, taste, and smell things that the rest of us can't. Like that static electricity feeling he got when he shook your hand back at the dojo."
Richie looked at Jim in surprise. "You could feel my arm healing?"
"I wasn't sure what it was."
"What about you, Blair?" Duncan asked.
"He's just your typical grad student working on his doctoral thesis," Jim answered. "Although I'm not sure he's completely normal."
"Oh. Ha ha."
"He helps me out. Unfortunately I don't have as much control over this as I would like."
The conversation lapsed into silence as each side tried to digest the other's tale.
"What now?" Richie asked, breaking the silence.
"I'm going after Cranouer," Jim answered.
"You won't be able to bring him to justice," Duncan said. "He'll just arrange his death and escape."
"I'll make sure that doesn't happen."
"How? Are you going to tell your superiors some wild story about immortals? They won't believe you."
Jim was quiet as he contemplated Duncan's words. He was right, Jim realized. He couldn't tell anyone about Duncan or Cranouer any more then he could tell them about his own abilities.
"What do you recommend?"
"Richie and Blair stay here and I come with you. Besides, I can find out where he lives with one phone call."
"So can I." Jim took a deep breath, blowing the air out of his mouth. "All right. Let's go."
*************
"I hate it when he takes over my fights," Richie complained, pacing through the apartment.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Blair had moved to sit on the sofa after the two older men left and Richie walked slowly over to sit next to him. "It wouldn't do much good. Mac is a bit overprotective."
"Sounds like Jim."
"What is it with guys like them?"
Blair shrugged. "Big Brother Syndrome. The overwhelming need to protect the younger friend. Even when he doesn't need protecting."
"I haven't heard of that one."
"I made it up after living with Jim for awhile."
"It fits Mac."
"Fits Jim, too."
Richie started to chuckle, when the unexpected presence of another immortal wiped the grin from his face. He rose to his feet, turning his head in an attempt to locate the immortal.
"Not again," Blair moaned, recognizing the look on Richie's face. It was the same look he had in the office before Cranouer attacked.
"Is there another way out of here?"
"Come on," Blair said, jumping up from the sofa and moving past the kitchen toward a green door. Richie followed him to the door.
Blair was turning the knob when a strong kick sent the front door rocking on its hinges. Blair turned back and grabbed Richie, pulling him through the open door as another kick broke the front lock.
Blair pointed to a door on the other side of the hall. "The stairs are right there. Get going."
"What do you think you're going to do?"
"Lock the door," Blair answered, pulling his keys from his pocket. He stuck a key in the door and turned it just as a body crashed into the other side.
"It may not stop him but it'll slow him down," Blair stated, pushing Richie through the stairway door.
*************
"Why did we come up here?" Blair asked, leaning against the door to the roof.
"We won't be able to get away and there's more room to fight up here."
"You almost lost last time," Blair protested.
"I know but I have a better chance in the open," Richie stated. Coming closer to Blair he said, "You have to promise me that you won't interfere this time."
"But . . . "
"It's one of the rules, Blair. Promise me!"
Blair nodded reluctantly.
Richie's shoulders sagged in relief. "Get on the other side of the chimney, over there," he said, pointing to the large structure. "I'll try to keep the fight away from you."
"Good luck," Blair said before moving to the location Richie had indicated.
Richie followed until he reached the center of the roof. He spun to face the door when he heard it being thrown open, raising his rapier.
"So, the boy's ready to play," Cranouer growled. He briefly scanned the roof, his eyes stopping when they found Blair, peeking around the chimney.
"I haven't forgotten what you did to me, Sandburg. When I'm done with this one I'm going to enjoy killing you."
"Is that the best you can do?" Blair shouted across the roof. "I've been threatened better than that by a psychopath."
Cranouer's face turned red in rage as he started toward Blair. Richie quickly stepped in front of the immortal. He wasn't sure if Blair was serious but he did appreciate the man's barbs. They just might make Cranouer sloppy.
"Me first," he stated.
Cranouer bowed his head slightly before raising his sword and bringing it down quickly, aiming for Richie's throat. Richie's rapier came up, deflecting the blow. He took a quick step back, out of Cranouer's reach, trying to draw the other immortal away from Blair.
Cranouer followed, raining blows in the younger immortal's direction. Blair watched, breathless, as Richie deflected strike after strike. He grasped the chimney in front of him in a desperate attempt to keep his promise to Richie.
*************
"He's not here," Duncan stated as they pulled up to Cranouer's address.
"How can you tell?"
"Immortals can sense each other."
"All right," Jim said from his position beside Duncan in the immortal's car. "What do we do now?"
"We wait. He's got to be back sooner or later. Richie's not listed in the phone book."
Jim jerked up in his seat. "We've got to go back."
"What's wrong?"
"Richie may not be in the phone book but Blair is."
"I didn't think cops listed their phone numbers," Duncan said, starting the engine.
"I don't but Blair has his own line. It's not in any regular phone book, either, but it's in the staff directory that the anthropology department put out."
Duncan didn't respond as he backed the car. If Jim was right, they were already too late.
*************
Blair choked back a yell as he watched Richie stumble and fall under Cranouer's onslaught. The young immortal was barely able to deflect Cranouer's next blow, aimed toward his neck. Rolling away from his attacker, Richie scrambled to his feet.
Cranouer laughed as he followed Richie's path. "You're mine now, boy. And I'll have fun with your friend."
Richie ignored the man's comment. "You're a fool if you think that a few threats are going to frighten me."
Cranouer laughed again as he charged Richie. Seeing his opportunity, Richie ducked under Cranouer's sword, plunging his rapier into the man's chest. Cranouer stumbled back, pulling himself off the sword.
"Not laughing now," Richie noted as his opponent fell to the ground.
Cranouer lifted his head in defiance while Richie raised his rapier to deliver the killing blow. In one clean movement, Richie separated Cranouer's head from his body.
Blair watched the scene in front of him in fear and wonder. He thought it was finally all over when Cranouer's body crashed to the ground beside Richie. He was wrong.
Richie turned to see Blair running to him. "Stay back!" he yelled.
Blair stopped, confused. He was about to ask Richie what he meant when he noticed a strange bluish light beginning to emanate from the dead immortal's neck. What appeared to be ball lightening rose away from the body and suddenly slammed into Richie, sending him stumbling toward Blair.
Blair backed up quickly as a bolt of lightening slammed into the ledge a few feet from where he stood. He ran to stand behind the large chimney. From his vantage point, he peered around and watched as more and more lightening rose from the dead body. Some of the bolts struck the roof but most found Richie.
Richie absorbed Cranouer's Quickening, his arms outstretched. A yell was torn from his body as the Quickening forced him to his knees. The presence of an approaching immortal was barely felt by Richie until the Quickening began to ease and then stop.
Supporting himself on one hand, Richie turned to see a stunned Jim Ellison step away from the door he had been using for protection from the effects of Cranouer's Quickening. The man's eyes locked on Richie for a brief instant before he jerked them away, scanning the roof for Blair.
"Sandburg!" Jim called, moving aside to let Duncan head over to Richie.
"Over here, man," Blair said, slowly coming around the chimney. He wasn't sure if the light show was over and he definitely didn't want to become part of it if it wasn't.
Jim nodded in relief. "So, Chief, how was your night?"
"Oh man," Blair sighed, walking over to Richie.
Duncan helped the young immortal to his feet. He patted Richie on the back, pride filling his eyes. Richie ducked his head in embarrassment.
"You all right?" Blair asked.
Richie laughed. "I'll live"
"Good. Because I expect to see you in class on Thursday," Blair said.
Grinning, Richie said, "I look forward to it. If I can resign up for the class, that is."
"I'm sure you could convince the instructor to give you an over ride," Duncan said, shepherding everyone to the stairway door.
Blair stopped in the doorway, forcing the others to stop as well. "What about Cranouer?"
Duncan looked over his shoulder at the body, saying, "Richie and I will take care of him."
"Uh huh. I want to close that case."
"So what do you suggest?"
Jim gently pushed Blair back to the stairway. "Let's go back to our place," he said. On the way down the stairs he weaved a tale about a serial killer and a case of justifiable homicide.
The end
What did you think of the story? Hated it? Liked it? Write to me and let me know. Laura
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