Awakening: The Elder Chronicles, Volume 1 Page 11

  Still leaning back, the shifting of her weight caught Alec off balance and he stumbled backward. The interruption snapped her from the moment. The heat of embarrassment colored her cheeks and she turned away from him, walking for the terminal.

  I don't think these two are the ones we want, Mistress, Elena heard the voice say. I think they may be another pair of backpackers. The conversation paused. Yes, Mistress, the voice said again. I will follow them to be sure. I understand completely.

  Elena leaned in to Alec. "We are going to be followed. Her Mistress has told her to follow us." After a brief pause, she asked, "What's our plan? What do we do now?"

  Alec replied without bothering to whisper. "We're in London. Let's go sightseeing."

  After picking up their luggage, they made their way through the passport and security checks, talking all the while for the benefit of their tail.

  "I hope you feel plenty rested after your plane and car rides," Alec said at one point. "We have about a twenty-mile hike to get to the hostel we're staying at in Hendon Park."

  Elena sighed. "Hon," she replied, taking his hand and pouting at him, "don't you think it would be safer to take a cab?" She batted her eyelids at him and smiled.

  He stared at her, either not buying her plea, or impervious to her attempted charms.

  She sighed again and resigned herself to the fact she would be walking. "Do we at least get to pass any neat landmarks on our way?"

  "Actually, we are about to leave one now," he explained to her. "Heathrow Airport was formerly a military airstrip converted into a commercial airline terminal. Once we get to the hostel, we can spend the night there and then take the Underground into London proper tomorrow. We could visit Big Ben, Parliament, and Buckingham Palace. All the typical touristy crap."

  "How about Notting Hill?" she asked with sudden interest.

  "What's so special about Notting Hill?" Alec asked with genuine curiosity.

  "What?" Elena poured it on pretty thick and acted surprised at his ignorance, adding some pouting for effect. "Haven't you ever seen the movie with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts? I figured it would be great to visit, is all." Her tone became very sullen.

  Alec kept step. "Well, okay. Sure," he said. "Why not? We have time to kill. This is a backpacking trip."

  He hefted his pack and buckled it about his torso. "Now, strap your pack on," he told her. "We have some ground to cover before we can get to sleep tonight." Alec pulled out a cell phone and began dialing a number. "I hope we have a room at the hostel by the time we get there. I am going to try and call ahead."

  He kept the conversation short, and as he hung up, he said to Elena, "They'll hold a room for us."

  Having a definite place to sleep for the night brightened her mood. They spent the rest of the day keeping up their pretense of being tourists while making their way toward the hostel.

  They reached the hostel, checked-in quick and were soon carrying their packs to their room. Alec waited while Elena soaked up a long, hot shower down the hall. Then he showered himself. Once dressed again, they decided to venture out to a small kebab stand, where they grabbed a quick meal. Afterward, they explored Hendon, finding a small Irish pub on Vivian Avenue in which to while away a few hours before heading back to the hostel for the night. Elena had not overheard any further communications from their pursuers.

  The dark, smoky pub's half-timbered walls were hung with typical banners reflecting Celtic pride. On her sticky leather seat, Elena nursed a very dark, heavy beer while listening to a rowdy crowd as they screamed and yelled at a soccer match playing overhead on a small television screen. After sharing a couple rounds of shots with the other patrons, Alec slugged down a couple of beers and watched the crowd closely. Elena noticed he studied people a lot, as if he were trying to read them like characters in a book.

  He seemed to have read her mind. To herself she wondered, Did he hear me while he was watching those people? He turned to her, smiling. "No," he replied, apparently hearing her this time. "But I have to admit I am a people watcher. Humans have such a full range of personalities and such great potential when they overcome their personal differences. It amazes me time and again they fall into the same mundane traps. They have such short lives, and yet they spend so much time fighting with each other over foolish things." His voice a little less of a whisper than she would have liked it to be.

  He chuckled kind of gaily and his speech seemed to be getting slurred.

  He began again. This time, however, he did his best to simulate a whisper—one neither quiet nor discreet. "And here we are surrounded by this raucous band, fueled by alcohol, testosterone, and too many bad decisions, watching a sporting event which in the great scheme of things will not mean much of anything but still escalates their furor."

  As he spoke, his voice kept rising in volume until it finally surmounted even the riotous din of the crowd behind them. "I mean, how many of these guys do you think are fathers? How many should be spending the precious few years of their lives at home with their wives and children instead of at a watering hole, crawling ever closer to the brink of alcohol dependence? How many do you think will go home and take out whatever disappointment or disdain for the game on their families?"

  Elena kept her eyes on the patrons as he talked. She was sure his diatribe would at some point attract the wrong attention. To Elena's relief, the volume of his voice finally dropped. Too many of the nearby patrons eyed him warily.

  "Humans have such great potential for love and compassion," he said through a drunken slur. "I have seen it. But instead, they tend to fall victim to stupid vices. They arrange their priorities so objects hold more fascination than the intangible moments of value between them, which they miss because they are not paying attention. They live for things instead of memories, experiences, and moments."

  Another round of shots came their way. She didn't remember having ordered it. Neither did she remember Alec purchasing them. But as the liquid fire passed through her lips and down the hatch, it made a bee line for her bladder. Elena excused herself and made her way to the ladies' room in the back of the pub.

  The bathroom walls were painted all black with a single row of mirrors hanging above the white-on-white sinks and counters. The stalls were all stainless steel. A few drinks had made the industrial simplicity of the décor fascinating. After flushing, she walked to the bank of sinks, ran the water as cold as it could go, and splashed her face in an attempt to sober up.

  "One hell of a guy you've got there," a voice said. She glanced up into the mirror and saw a young petite brunette with short curly hair standing by the stalls, staring at her. If not one of the local bar flies, then she probably escorted one of the rowdy gents out front. Yet, there seemed something familiar about her. Elena couldn't quite put her finger on what.

  "Yeah," Elena replied, "he's a one of a kind." She bent down to splash more water on her face. She really didn't want to be chatting it up with some seedy bar patron.

  "It seems like he can't hold his liquor, though. He's pretty pissed." The woman continued, chuckling.

  Elena noticed her standing next to her at the sinks touching up her lipstick.

  "And what the hell was he rambling on about?" she asked.

  Elena splashed water to her face again. Oh great! She had heard. She didn't want to try to explain Alec's strange behavior to some complete stranger.

  "Trust me," Elena said to the woman, "I have no idea. He gets into these strange moods when he drinks." She had been talking to this woman for a few brief moments, but grew tired of her incessant questioning.

  The woman continued, "Your man sure is cute—even if a little strange. He seems so young. In fact, I wouldn't guess him to be a day over two-thousand years old."

  Elena's face felt cold as the blood drained from it. She had not seen the woman's mouth move while she spoke. She sobered almost instantly, the hackles on her neck rising as she stared at the woman's cold smile. She recognized the voice in a moment of lucidi
ty as the one she had heard at the airport, their tail, their stalker—one of the Opposition.

  My mistress was right, the woman's voice continued. She told me it would be a matter of time before one of you two slipped up. The amazing thing is you both slipped up at the same time. The woman turned to Elena.

  The woman stood nearly a whole foot shorter than Elena and appeared much more fragile. Elena tried to gauge whether or not she would be able to handle this woman on her own. She knew from experience Daimon men were quite powerful, but never expected such strength from females.

  Let me clue you in on some secrets. First, Daimon men cannot handle their liquor. In fact, all Daimones are very quickly undone by alcohol. The woman eyed Elena up and down before saying, Second, you could never take me on. To illustrate her point, the small woman gripped the countertop and crushed a small section of it into powder.

  "What do you want from me?" Elena asked.

  The choice is simple, the woman replied mentally. Either come with me to see my mistress. Or...

  "Or?" Elena asked, realizing she would regret this decision.

  Or you and your companion die, the woman replied. A placid and sickly happy smile spread across her face as she said it.

  The woman's evident pleasure at making such a dire threat sent a chill down Elena's spine. She conjured up the most severe feeling of pain she could imagine and directed it right at the Daimon woman as she had done to the other Daimon in Canada. However, instead of the anticipated effect of crippling pain she had seen in the Daimon man, the woman's eyes flashed, and then she laughed.

  Silly girl, the woman said to her mentally. I am no mere weakling. Your foolish mind games have no effect on me.

  Alec...I need your help! Elena cried out, hoping beyond hope he would hear and come to her aid.

  The woman started laughing even louder. A terrifying grin crossed her face. He can't hear you. Alcohol impairs Daimon abilities. And Alec has had a few too many. I guess I shouldn't have bought him so many rounds!

  Elena didn't wait for the woman to move. Filled with blind rage over being trapped by this woman, she pressed her attack. If her death was on the menu, then she would take this woman with her as dessert.

  Elena bowled into the small Daimon woman, throwing all of her weight into the attack. To her surprise, the woman fell backward with her arm clutching at the sink.

  She didn't stay down for long, though and responded by pushing back at Elena with startling speed, shoving her back a few paces.

  Elena responded as fast. She threw her hands up in anticipation of the Daimon woman's attack. However, she couldn't fathom what kind of attack to expect coming at her.

  The small woman was lithe. She maneuvered herself underneath Elena's arms and thrust upward with both arms like lofting a volleyball lifting Elena off of her feet and throwing her into the far wall. Elena managed to turn herself sideways in order to absorb her impact with the wall and push herself off into a counterattack.

  Elena rushed across the room. The woman crouched at her approach. Instead of missing her target, however, Elena lowered her center of gravity and leapt, flying over the woman's back. While sailing over her opponent's body, Elena stretched out and grasped the woman around the waist.

  Elena's momentum carried her forward, and she tucked her head and rolled, pulling the Daimon woman off her feet and flipping her onto her head with startling force. The Daimon's legs flailed and slammed into the large wall mirror, shattering it.

  But she did not stay down for long. Before Elena could right herself, the woman leapt up and moved back across the room. Elena stood and whirled to face the woman but was caught off guard as a fist struck her across the face. Surprisingly, it did not carry much force. Elena brushed the blow off and delivered her own to the woman's chest, forcing the woman back several feet.

  The Daimon crumpled, winded by the force of Elena's attack. When the Daimon stood again, she clutched a large shard of the broken mirror, which she wielded like a knife.

  The woman's glare spit hellfire at Elena. You're going to die, child.

  The Daimon leaped, but Elena had already anticipated the move. She stepped to the side, and twisted her body away from the blow. As she turned, she grabbed at the woman's back and shoved as hard as she could. The woman's momentum, along with Elena's shove, carried her smashing right through the counter, crushing it into the concrete block wall behind. Elena wasted no time trying to decide if the Daimon would stop her attack. She moved in and grabbed one of the woman's arms from behind. The mirror shard came slashing at her face in the woman's other hand as she twisted out of Elena's grasp. With speed she had never realized possible, she grasped the wrist of the hand clutching the shard and squeezed it with all of the strength she could muster. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the woman's bones snap. Elena twisted her hand and could see the arm bend at a right angle. Filled with rage, she threw her fist at the woman's face. The woman's scream sent chills down her spine. Elena stepped in shock, her blow had dislodged the woman's jaw and it hung loose from torn flesh.

  How is this possible? the woman's voice screamed into her mind. Sudden understanding dawned on the woman's face as she stared at Elena. It's you! she said pointing to Elena, You are the Source! Elena heard the woman's voice again, but much more faint. Mistress! The girl is the Source!

  Yes, Mistress. The Daimon woman sprung to action. She swung the balled fist of her unbroken arm, but Elena caught her hand mid-swing. Again, she felt the woman's bones collapse in her grasp, as a scream of pain chilled her. It sickened her knowing she'd caused someone so much pain. But what alternative did she have? The woman was thirsty for her blood and had so far been unrelenting in her attack.

  Elena released the woman's hand and pushed her away.

  Fists pounded on the bathroom door. "Oi. What's going on in there?" The voice belonged to a Cockney. "You beach not be busting up me loo’, 'ear? Or I'll bust some 'ads!"

  Exactly what, wondered Elena, is Irish about this pub?

  She then directed her thoughts to the woman's head. Who are you? she asked the woman mentally. What do you want with me?

  I was going to bring you to my Mistress, the woman replied, but now I am going to kill you. My Mistress wants to speak with you, but you will never live to see her. Nor will you see the damn Elder. The woman groaned in pain.

  Why won't I see the Elder? Elena asked. Apparently, he's the one who has any answers about what is happening to me and why you people want to kill me.

  Do not call us people, the woman hissed in her head. Do not dare to lower us to the same level of human scum! The Daimon stood and lurched forward again with a tremendous effort. The whole conversation had taken place in a fraction of a second, in between the beats of the fist pounding on the bathroom door.

  Elena raised her foot and kicked the woman square in the chest, sending her again sprawling against the broken remains of the counter. The blow had knocked the woman unconscious.

  The fists against the door fell silent, but were followed by a louder, hollow thudding sound. A bald and rather burly unshaven man burst through the door on the third hit.

  The man's eyes grew wide with shock as he surveyed the damage done to his bathroom. The walls to the stalls were broken, his countertop and sinks were destroyed, and a small brunette woman lay crumpled on the floor unconscious with blood dripping from the torn flesh of her lower face.

  Elena raised her hands up halfway in surrender as she stepped toward the exit door. The man took a step back, and from behind his back he brought a well-used black wooden baseball bat with more than its share of dents and scars.

  "Now, you be'ah keep your 'ands up dere, luv. I got the bobbies comin'ere." He turned his head to the bar. "Oi. Any of you boyos wanna lend a'and until the pigs show? We got a cat fight in me loo."

  Elena narrowed her eyes at the man. "This woman tried to kill me," she explained. "All I did was defend myself."

  The man studied Elena, then the unconscious woman lying on
the floor. "Listen, luv. I don' care'oo done'oo wrong."

  The woman on the floor groaned and twitched. "Listen, she is going to wake up soon," Elena said pointing to the woman." And when she does, she will be angry. Don't be fooled by her. She is very dangerous."

  "I think I could handle this li'ul girl'ere," the bar owner replied.

  Elena took a furtive step forward. "This is not any little girl."

  "Stay right where you are," the man roared at Elena with obvious fear in his voice. He shouldered the bat as if he were ready to knock one out of the park. "Take anovah step and I'll smash your'ead in."

  Elena took another step.

  "I mean it," he said, his voice raising a few octaves. "You be' ah stop where you are."

  She could see the fear in his eyes and knew it could make him attack.

  "Do what you will," she said to him. "I'm not stopping. I'm leaving. So, you can either get out of my way, or, I'll go through you." She tried her best to be firm and convincing.

  Another step forward and the man tensed his arm muscles. She could tell he meant business. Still, she took yet another step.

  The man's powerful torso spun and his arms released their coiled tension. The baseball bat flew at Elena's head with remarkable speed but stopped dead in her grasp. The shock on his face told it all. She pulled on the bat and yanked the man off balance. He stumbled forward and fell sprawling onto the bathroom floor.

  Elena stepped over him. "If I were you, I would stay down." Once past the owner, she raced to Alec's side. He leaned against the bar, nearly passed out.

  "C'mon," she said to him. "We have to go." She yanked him off his stool, surprised by his low body weight.

  Alec laughed without provocation as if he had heard the most fantastic joke. A hint of recognition leapt to his face. "Hey... It's you!" He chuckled again like he'd heard the greatest joke, "Did everything come out all right in the loo?" She could hear him draw out the word "loo."