Haven (12) “How do you feel about it?” Dom asked, now interested in her opinions of the Organization’s fanaticism. “I don’t know if it’s even possible,” she said. “Haven is the first of a long line of experimental targets.” “So, you expect me to believe that the Organization wants the two of us to destroy every vampire in Haven?” “Not exactly,” Grace answered nervously. “Explain.” Dom did not like the feel of this conversation. It somehow seemed treacherous. “Look,” she said after a time. “Let me start at the beginning.” He nodded and waited for Grace to continue. “We received word from our Fae contact almost a year ago. He gave us more than enough information to send in a crew of Cleaners. You were dispatched her five months ago for more than one reason. Your reports about Chicago had troubled some of the Organization’s higher-ups. For the most part you were sent here as a formality and for confirmation of what the Fae had told us, but there were other reasons too.” “Such as?” “They thought you might be a sympathizer. It’s a common occurrence with Observers. Your reports served no purpose but to gauge your personal feelings on the subject of Haven. We already had all the information on Haven’s master vampires, including the High Ones, and the old hall.” Grace sighed. “I was sent here as much to observe you as to clean the city.” “Clever of them to send someone like you here,” he said with a smile. “I assure you I was sent here on the basis of my past—“ “Come on, Grace,” said Dom. “You’re young, pretty girl with no experience. They expected that if I had doubts about my job, then I would be most likely to confide in someone like you.” “Are you going to let me finish?” Grace spoke sternly with the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “You weren’t finished?” Dom thought that she was overreacting a little bit. “No. You wanted to know why there are only two of us cleaning Haven. Somewhere along the line you got distracted by how my body affects the way you think.” “And, since I’m totally wrong on that point…” Dome smirked. “Why don’t you continue.” “We specifically targeted the High Ones and all of the master vampires. This is all being done in an attempt to destroy the vampire hierarchy in Haven.” “I don’t see what effect that’s going to have.” Not for the first time Dom was confounded by the Organization’s logic. “You have only been in Haven for five months. We have been aware for some time of an unstable relationship between the High Ones and Haven’s police force. After assuring the police that we could remove the more powerful vampires in the city, they agreed to organize a group to pick off the rest.” Grace slumped back against the sofa as if she had nothing more to say. “So, what do we do now?” He asked the question, but after everything he had learned, he scarcely cared. “We confirm Jenny’s death. Hit our last target, Sarah Rossmanith, and stay in Haven for two weeks to look for Martin and Amanda.” Grace yawned and closed her eyes. “Well, it sounds like we’re in for a good time.” * * * * * * * Dawn had risen and the day was filled with life. That is the nature of things in Haven. The day belongs to humans, but most of them know better than to tread the city’s interior by night. So, when the sun fell again, Seamus said his good-byes to Abby, not knowing that she too planned on braving the night. Jenny left Jill’s abode and crept to a safe place to lick her wounds for that night. Far away from the business of creeping vampires and hiding humans, other things went about their lives. While the city was the declared realm of vampires and humans, the forest belonged to other beings. The lycanthropes had first called the forests of Haven home. There was no objection when the Fae also began to dwell there. Most recently, and looked upon with the least favor, the raksasha had found their way to Haven. This night, Toby raced through the woods, giving not a care to the raksasha. The vampire girl that he had met had given him some disturbing news, which only added to the disturbing news that he already carried. Methos was not going to be at all happy about the news that Toby brought, and Toby was not too excited about bringing it to him. He did not like dealing with other branches of the Fae, especially Methos’ tribe. Toby’s tribe, the Stazra, were by nature a carefree bunch. It was only by dire occurrence that he ever dealt with the elder Vindo tribe of Methos, or the chaotic tribe of the Lant. After a long time of running through the pines, Toby reached his destination. He had come to a sizable clearing almost in the very heart of the forest. Toby fell exhausted to the ground, panting wildly. How long he lay there before the sound came from ahead, he could not be sure. When finally he bothered to look up, he was most surprised by what he saw. Dealings with Methos almost always involved some sort of surprise, which usually involved the shape he might take. Toby had heard that Methos was possibly the oldest Fae in existence, and he often wondered if boredom of age might account for his constant fluidity of shape. He was at least glad to see that tonight he had at least favored Toby with a humanoid shape. Methos stepped out of the shadows looking like the old man that he was. His face was nearly covered with a long, gray beard that fell to his knees. He carried an ancient-looking cane of twisted oak and walked with slow shuffling steps. Wisps of long gray hair danced in the breeze and covered large portions of his face that the beard had missed. “I understand that you’ve been looking for me,” he said in a hoarse shaky timbre, completing the illusion. “I come bearing urgent news, most ancient vender.” Toby raised himself to his knees as he spoke, but dared not stand before Methos. “Then stand up and tell me,” Methos said, somewhat amused. “And, please drop the formality.” “What would you have me call you?” Toby asked. “My name is always a good chance to take on that one.” Toby nodded obediently. “Now, continue.” “We have discovered that a faction of the Fae have waged a war against the undead.” “Is that so?” Methos took a step or two forward in interest. “Yes.” “Tell me, do you think that they have any chance of winning?” “Well, no. If they were just in it alone, then they would have no chance at all of succeeding. However, they have found a dangerous ally, Lord Methos,” Toby stumbled over his words several times, but managed to finish it gracefully enough. “None of that Lord business, Toby. Just Methos will do.” Toby nodded. “Now let me see if I can guess what friend these Fae have found to help them.” The old face furrowed its brow in thought and closed its eyes for several moments. “Well, certainly not the raksasha. They are too mindless and likely another enemy of this faction.” Toby nodded at his correct assumption about the raksasha. “The shapeshifters would surely not bring themselves into another war against the vampires, so not them either.” Toby was beginning to grow restless with this guessing game. Was Methos only playing with him, indicating that he was already aware of this information? “Well, I’m sure the vampires would not turn against on another. There are, however, several unknown races in Haven, but those are even more dangerous than they are difficult to find.” Methos stared at Toby. “I give up,” he said at last. Toby only stared at the old man, unsure. “Well, tell me.” He laughed. “They have allied themselves with that damnable organization of killers that we discovered some years back. They have been giving them information about Haven. Now, they have finally found it.” Toby regretted the fact that he had let some of his ire slip into the statement. “I see,” said Methos. Finally, his voice had shown some real interest. “Have they started their business here yet?” “I fear that they have, Methos. There are dark energies flowing at the old hall. I think that the High Ones are already gone.” “Oh.” Toby thought that the ancient was waiting for more information. He did not realize how deeply this did affect Methos. The old Fae’s life had encompassed much of history, and more than a little of it had involved the elder vampires. Namely, Stephanie. Toby was unaware of the fact that Methos was in her homeland two thousand years ago, and he had much to do with her transformation. “If something is not done soon,” Toby continued, “the Fae could supply them with enough information to destroy every vampire in Haven.” “Let me ask you a question, Toby.” The young Fae nodded to Methos. “As Fae we are protectors of life, why should we not do away with the undead of the world?” The old man’s voice was now stern and serious. “I don’t know, Methos.” Toby hanged his head in shame for betraying his kind. He knew how the Fae were supposed to fell about the undead. “There is no need to lie to me, Toby. I have no power to punish you for your thoughts.” His voice had become a little more kind. Toby looked up at the ancient Fae, debating what he should say. The values that he had been taught, and the morals he had learned warred for voice. Finally, he decided that he could not believably spout out the jargon that he had been trained to say. At least, not well enough to convince Methos. “I believe that even the undead contain a life of their own. It is not the life that we are most familiar with, but certainly the two varieties are akin to one another.” Toby stood in fear of what Methos might say to him. He imagined a thunderous curse being laid upon his very soul. “I very much agree with you,” Methos said with a warm smile. “What this violent faction of the Fae is doing is truly wrong, but they will never be convinced of it. And, truly, that is a blessed thing.” “Methos?” Toby was confused by the ancient’s contradictory words. “It is the most horrible sin for one of our kind to destroy a life. Since these Fae do not believe as you and I do, the fate of that sin will not be laid upon them. It is something so horrible that no Fae should ever have to bear it, no matter the circumstances.” “What is it?” Toby was marveling in fear of this thing that Methos spoke of so seriously. “Only one of our kind has ever deliberately taken a life away from someone. His curse is something that no other Fae could begin to understand.” “But, what is it?” Toby drew closer to him. “An eternity of guilt,” Methos said in a whisper. “That is all?” Toby was visibly disappointed. “Trust me, Toby, it is not a thing that any being should even have to bear for eternity. I speak the truth, and I speak from experience if you follow my meaning.” “You killed someone?” Toby was in awe. Methos only nodded silently. “Why?” Methos looked to Toby with a confused expression. It slowly faded away again into sadness. “Because it was necessary.” The confession had left him weary, and there was still much left to be done. “Is there anything else that I need to know?” he asked as he stared to walk away, and gesturing for Toby to follow. Toby took up pace beside him saying, “All of the rest is just coincidental, except for the fact that Martin has returned to Haven.” “That is interesting. Have we any clue as to his end yet?” Methos really sounded very bored with the subject. “No, we cannot even see if he will certainly die.” “I see,” said the ancient. “Do we know anything new about Angelique’s child?” “Unfortunately, no. She still does not know that we are aware of the child.” “Good. Is there anything else?” Toby shook his head. “Then I really must be going. Something must be done about all of this.” Methos stopped and looked to Toby. “Go have some fun,” he said to him. Toby looked rather puzzled. “There is a pretty little sylph named Pepper that’s been poking around the city for a little fun. Why don’t you go find her?” “If you think that would—“ “Don’t go just because I told you to. Go because you’ve borne a heavy burden tonight. Go because you want to be carefree. Go because she’s pretty.” Toby continued to cast a puzzled stare at him. “All right,” Methos said with a sigh. “Go because I told you to.” After Toby had gone, Methos sighed and let the old man form slip away. A moment later he looked as young as Toby, though not quite as human. Dar, longish hair leapt wildly from his head, revealing the taut skin of his now beardless face. He knew that Toby would not have responded to Methos as such an authoritative figure if he had kept this form for him. Methos headed north toward his home. He needed to be comfortable in his thinking for a while. He had suspected that something dire was occurring among the Fae, but he had not thought it this bad. In all his years of life, he had never experienced something this confounding. How could he convince them that what they were doing was wrong? He did not know exactly what would be done, but it would have to be something impressive. Methos had always been good at making an impression. * * * * * * * Amanda hefted the body of the fallen girl off the street and flung her easily over her shoulder. Had Amanda not known that the girl had been tainted with Render, she would have killed her on sight. Aside from getting her to a safer place, though, there was little that she could do. Vampires did have a slight healing power in their saliva that could heal small human wounds. However, Amanda did not want to risk ingesting any of the Organization’s vampire killing chemical. She had seen the girl fall in front of the old hall as she herself was approaching the place. This had seemed such a coincidence that it led Amanda to believe that the two agents she had spied in the darkness had known she was coming. This disturbed her more than a little. She knew that an inside man on the Haven cleaning could prove to be a rather dangerous variable in Martin’s plan. In the meantime the girl the agents had accidentally targeted was bleeding profusely on Amanda. She decided that she had to do something to try to save the girl. If nothing else, she wanted to know if the girl had been intentionally going to the old hall. Amanda was also morbidly curious about Render’s effects on a human. Martin had done as much research as he was capable on the chemical, but it had proved to be a confusing substance. It seemed that its effects often varied on vampires depending on several factors. During his imprisonment by the Organization, Martin had told Amanda that he had actually been injected with a rather large quantity of the substance, causing excruciating and violent reactions in his body. Martin had also had suspicious that they were in the process of developing a stronger version of Render, but he was not sure when it would be released into the field. Whichever of the two had been used on this girl that Amanda carried prevented her from receiving any help from a vampire. Amanda dare not change her either for fear of what the drug that was already in her system might do in such circumstances. The girl was a mystery to Amanda, and if nothing else she wanted to question her. Finally, the two of them reached the motel on the edge of the city. Amanda carried the girl to her room and tended to the leg wound as best she could with a damp cloth and dry towel. It seemed that the puncture took an abnormally long amount of time to clot, but it was rather deep, and Amanda could not be sure. After an hour or so, the girl gained a measure of consciousness, though still rather dazed and groggy. “Where am I?” she asked of the blurry figure beside her that would not stay in focus. “You are safe,” Amanda said to her. “Can you tell me your name?” “Abby,” she said weakly. “Where is Seamus?” “I don’t know anyone called Seamus. My name is Amanda.” Amanda did not think that she was going to get any vital information out of Abby in this condition so she kept to the basics. “You are a vampire, aren’t you?” Amanda was rather taken aback by the question.
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