Thanks to Alexis for giving me the 'kick' of inspiration I
needed in the 'action' scene (I'm just so bad at those ^^;;;)
On the Beat
The gun fell to the floor, making an unnatural noise in the
sudden calmness on the nightly docks, but Xandra didn't hear
it through the blood rushing in her ears. Terror creeped up
her veins, like a serpent that waited for the right moment
to perform it's deadly bite.
Frantically, she thought about possibilities to get rid of
her gloves, start a surprise attack and drain her opponent
before he could tear her guts out. She almost laughed
hysterically as she remembered that he knew the nature of
her powers well enough. She didn't stand a chance ... Almost
casually, the man strolled closer, lightning a cigarette.
"Long time, no see, babe. Hey, what's wrong? Don't ya remember
yer old buddy?"
"Hi Creed." Xandra's whisper was hoarse, her stance betrayed
her urgent need to flee.
"What? No hug fer ol' me?" He grinned ferally as he stepped
closer. "See, babe, it's a real shame our 'cooperation' back
then didn't turn out as expected. Mmh, really liked yer mom,
she was a hot chick. Pity she was turned in..."
Xandra winced and Creed's smile became even wider, while
a dangerous gleam entered his eyes. He mock-slapped his forehead.
"Oh, I forgot. YOU turned her in. Bad bad girl. You betrayed
us and blew the mission ... that wasn't very nice, don't ya
A low growl escaped his throat, becoming louder, more dangerous,
as he tensed, then jumped at the young woman. Xandra stood
like a statue, frozen, gaping as the feral mutant jumped at
her, claws extended and saliva dripping from his fangs. Then
it was over, he was past her, and all she felt was coldness.
Her eyes still unnaturally wide, she looked down at herself
and watched a dark liquid soak her shirt over her stomach.
She lightly touched the wet area and looked at her now red
With the realization came the pain. Hot, red pain, that savagely
stabbed through her guts as her weakened knees gave way and
she dropped into the dirt again. Through the red blur of her
vision, she saw the beast approaching, then picking her up.
"A real shame, babe. But ya had to find yer conscience, huh?"
Xandra heard the words, but couldn't find a sense in them.
Her mind was clouded and she barely even noticed as he dropped
her again, until the East River took her into it's cold, deadly
Reflexively, she opened her mouth to scream and it filled
with icy water, nearly choking her. She moved frantically,
tried to get to the surface again, but she didn't know which
way was up anymore and the gash in her side punished her every
movement with a flood of pain.
After a few moments of hysteric paddling, Xandra calmed somewhat
down. And with the calmness came the realization. The realization
that she was dead. Then, her angel came to save her.
Everything was working according to plan. The Detective was
chasing the killer to the docks, where she confronted him.
Remy, following at a safe distance, grinned inwardly as his
two most dangerous adversaries opposed each other. The Detective
that had come closer to his trail than any had before, and
the killer that had been hired to clean the world of his handsome
Kill two birds with one stone. Luckily, Kitty had helped
him to trick Thorne into getting rid of Creed in his stead.
The thought that it could be vice versa, that Creed could
kill her, slit the tender, white skin of her neck, was suppressed
She was the enemy. Sooner or later, he would have to defeat
her. At any costs. He COULD not be imprisoned, would die there,
needed his freedom like air to breathe. And he would keep
this freedom for a long while, he thought smirking as he watched
the scene on the docks unfold before his eyes.
Obviously, Creed and Thorne weren't complete strangers. Well,
this was not according to plan. They talked, and the Detective
looked as if she had seen a ghost. Remy slowly approached
the pair for he couldn't understand a single word they were
saying. Then, suddenly, Creed became savage and attacked the
woman. Remy froze in the middle of the movement, staring at
the dreadful scene that played at the shore of the East River.
The human beast slashed at the frail woman - Remy had never
noticed before, how small and weak she was - and brilliant
red blood spilled at the floor, mingling with the dirt. Then,
he picked her lifeless body up, like a doll, and threw her
into the river.
Horrified, he watched her drown in the dirty water, saw every
weak movement and stared at the point where she had been even
after she was long gone.
The low growl that was Creed's voice jerked him back into
reality as he mockingly said good bye to the drowned woman
and wandered away laughing.
Then he ran. He hurried to the riverbay, stumbling over his
own feet, though born with an enhanced agility. Terror filled
him, terror that he might be responsible for another being's
death. He knew that she HAD to be dead, that she had been
underwater for too long, but images of her corpse, of the
blood spilling from the gash in her abdomen, caused an incomparable
horror in Remy that he knew he would never forget if he didn't
try anything to make up for his self-righteous play.
Deep down though, there was no trail of guilt or responsibility
for the Detective's situation. There was only the thought
that SHE IS GONE, that made him run and jump into the East
River, fighting for his own consciousness at the impact and
the strength to move on, to dive deeper until he saw her lifeless
form flowing in an undertow.
It was this thought, the thought of never seeing her again,
that made him mobilize every resource his body still held,
move towards her and grab her to pull her to the surface again.
Gasping for air and trembling of the cold (had to be the cold...)
he pulled Xandra to the docks, feeling her wrist, then her
neck with numb fingers to find ... nothing. No pulse. No breathing.
Frantically, he started to perform CPR on her, noticing with
horror that everytime he pushed down her chest, fresh red
blood flowed out of the gash in her side. If she didn't wake
up soon enough, the bloodloss would kill her as certainly
as the water in her lungs did now. Sheer horror written on
his face, he went on and on, pushing her chest, breathing
into her mouth ... way beyond the point where any medic would
have given up.
She was dead. She KNEW she had to be dead. Yet, she could
feel every muscle of her body aching, felt the sting of the
injury Creed had inflicted on her. She tried to open her eyes,
but they wouldn't listen to her orders. Forcing her mind out
of the pitch black darkness it was embedded in, she grasped
for the thin line of consciousness that tied her to reality.
After a few moments of strain, she managed to open her eyes.
To no use. The room she was lying in was darkened, the curtains
locking out every possible ray of light. She moaned and lifted
her hand to search for some kind of switch to turn on the
lights. Bad mistake. At the sudden movement, her injury protested
with a painful sting that made her wince and breathe sharply.
"I switched dem off so your eyes wouldn' hurt, unused to
Xandra turned her head at the sound of the voice, but she
needn't see the face in the dim light he now flashed on besides
her bed to recognize the accent, the smoothness of the voice,
though somewhat strained now.
The thief's face looked hollow in the flickering light of
the oil lamp he now put on her nightstand, but Xandra was
sure he would look little better in daylight. He was obviously
exhausted, way past the point of pure weariness, his eyes
flickering around her features restlessly. He removed the
blanket and pushed up her shirt a bit to check the bandages.
"Good, de wound hasn't broken up again. Now, ya better be
Xandra gleamed at him, suspiciously.
"Why are ya helping me?"
The thief only grinned tiredly.
"Must be de gentleman inside o' me. But why 'aven't you helped
yourself? Far as I know, ya're a cop, but ya did not'ing to
defend yourself. Ot'erwise, le bête wouldn' 'ave been a match
He held her gaze now, trying to read her, trying to find
out why she had let Creed get the better on her so easily.
Xandra looked away. What should she tell him? That she felt
she deserved to be punished for what she had did to her mother?
She knew it had been the right decision, and she would do
But was this a good enough reason to betray her own mother
and commit her to a life deprived of her highly cherished
freedom? For Xandra, it was. Ever since, she had worked hard
enough to gain her place among the side of the angels, to
become a cop despite her past. It has always been clear to
her who the good and the bad guys were.
And she had promised herself to fight every single one of
the bad guys. Like she would fight the thief that had just
saved her life. By any means, she would be the one to make
an end to his story of pinches. She turned to look at him
again, spite and determination in her dark-ringed eyes.
"Well, obviously, it ain't my business. Try to sleep a bit,
chère, ya need de rest." Remy blew out the lamp and watched
the Detective close her eyes and shift into a more comfortable
position with his sensual eyes. He had seen the fire in her
eyes, that was why he had told her to sleep. He wanted to
escape this look on her face, but the image was unerasably
burned into his memory. She would still fight him. He knew
that now. Without making a noise, the thief left the apartment
of Thorne's colleague, where he had brought her only hours
Continued in Chapter
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