urban fantasy Sightlines (Incomplete)

[Wannatripbaby]

4 minutes ago, bbykimmy said:

Great questions!  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

What do you think the answers are?

Sal's Monster half is either a creature I'm unfamiliar with or something you made up.

And Whisper is a term exclusively used by whatever is inside Faye.

[bbykimmy]

Chapter Thirteen

Elena Romano, Underboss of the Winchester coven and right hand to the White Witch, watched the television in her hotel room in horror.  The entire tower was gone.  She had been avoiding work for a week, expecting disaster, expecting someone to come knocking on the door of her condo... it was suspicious enough that she even had a place away from the Ivory Tower.  When she felt Sarah Trippoli die... she ran.  Without packing a single thing, she fled her condo and rode the wind until she found a hotel suitably far away and paid with cash.  She sealed herself away and slept, magically hiding her signature and energy in a forced slumber - it was risky, she knew she would be vulnerable while she slept, but it was her best bet.  Everyone would be looking for her the moment Sarah went down.

But now, the next morning, she watched the smoldering ruins of the Ivory Tower on the news, a petrified imp delivering the report of mass death to the Winchester Witches.

I never should have given her that spell, she lamented.  It wasn't ready, it was a half-baked thing from Apex...

Her current lover - Sophie - was a tech in the R&D department of Apex, their equivalent of a Lieutenant, and she had convinced him to tell her about the research... and when she, unlike most other people in the Apex woman's life, had shown true interest in the inner workings of the spell, Sophie had shared a prototype, making Elena promise not to share it with another Witch.

So she hadn't.  She had written the spell down, the formulation and theory, and handed to a Troll who gave it of his own free will to the White Witch.

And the damned thing worked.

They hadn't started with a valuable target, just some waitress that her boss found interesting while they were out one night...

And now Winchester Tower was gone, her sisters were dead, and she knew that Familiar had something to do with it.

And that Apex would be coming to kill her.

Paranoid thoughts danced through her head as she watched the report, watched the imp somberly give the death toll and talk about the wonderful services the Winchester coven provided for the world... when she realized one of her tripwire spells had gone off during the night.  Someone had broken into her condo.

"Fuck," she moaned as she rushed to the sink, stoppering it and running a couple of inches of water.  She blew on it, mumbling her incantation... and watched as an older man, obviously Witch-blooded crept through her apartment wearing spellshades.  "Fuck... " she complained again as she watched the man pick up the laptop off of her table and tuck it under his arm, taking nothing else and leaving...

"It's encrypted," she assured herself.  "It's encrypted and it's bespelled.  He's Witch-blooded, he won't be able to get in... Fuck."

If Apex got a hold of that laptop, she was dead... there was a copy of the prototype spell on the laptop, among other small things that she had gleaned from Sophie.

She had to get that laptop back before the old man gave it to Apex - well, sold was most likely.  The Winchesters were extinct unless Elena herself decided to rally the few field agents and surviving Witches together and declared their continuation... but she wouldn't.  It was too dangerous.

She needed that laptop.  And the Witch-blooded bastard had already had it for hours.

*     *     *

Aurora sat in the darkened safehouse - all of the windows had been covered with heavy curtains - and thought long and hard about the Black Witch's offer.  Thanatos had seemed like the best move, the safest... life was not pretty for the Anomic.  There was a reason Witches organized into covens - the ties of blood were valuable, the protection real.  If she slighted another coven now, there would be no one to protect her.

The law might do a great job keeping the Witches separate from the filthy humans, but there was no protection against another Witch... except one's coven.

But the idea of "serving humans" disgusted her.  Humans were cattle, worthless shells until you stuffed something of value into them and filled them with a Troll, or an Imp, or any of the other lesser souls waiting to be bound in the Other Place, waiting for a chance to ride a human and escape the monotony that was their eternal war.  Humans were worthless and weak, a plague upon the world that the Witches had finally corralled after countless centuries.  The Witches had been in power - openly - for almost two hundred years now, and the idea of "serving" the small, pathetic creatures that were human bothered her.

She sat in the leather chair - she honestly would have preferred humanskin like the one in the White Witch's penthouse, but those had been outlawed for a while - a "show of good faith" to the humans, they called it, after the brutality of the Witches' overthrow of the human society and the glorious times that followed... no, the only other thing the humans were good for were pets.  Knowing it was a terrible idea, Aurora walked to the "nursery" where she had kept her Familiar...

And her heart broke.  Tears of blood fell to the floor as the pain all came rushing back.  If Apex hired that woman, if they were behind the explosion that cost her everything... she'd kill the Blue Witch herself or die trying.

But first she'd discover the identity of that Familiar, which would hopefully lead her right to the saboteur.  She had to find out what she could, she only had a matter of hours before she needed to make her final decision.

Thanatos or the life on an Anomic.

Serving humans or living as a hermit, alone, unsafe.

She stepped out to her balcony and called the winds, flying for the human law enforcement agency.

 

*      *      *

"Hey there little Faye," Sal cooed, holding the overwhelmed Familiar close.  The Whisper was so much louder here, away from her Owner...

I don't have an Owner, she reminded herself, but it felt wrong... the Whisper didn't like that thought.

Sal was different - she sounded different inside.  The horned-man had a Whisper, but he was the only one.  There was something in Sal, but it wasn't a Whisper, it was quiet, like a murmur, barely there.  Rachel didn't, she was the quietest inside.  The other girl, Rachel's favorite sister, Faye kept listening for her Whisper, thinking that they were the same - they smelled the same - but she couldn't hear it.

It didn't make sense.

She felt calmer after Rachel talked to her, she said the words the Whisper liked to hear, the words that her Owner would say when she was Mommy.

"Pretty pet," Faye whispered to herself, snuggling deeper into Sal's arms.  "Pretty pet."  She closed her eyes, relaxing, listening to Sal's slow breathing, rattly and raspy, like she had tiny rocks in her chest.  The words made her feel nice, made her feel tingly.

But the Whisper wanted her to get closer to the half-Witch.  She couldn't right now though, Sal was making her sleepy.  Something about being in Sal's arms made her so sleepy, like sleep was just radiating off of the woman, like she was drawing the sleepy right out of her and absorbing it.  It felt nice - it made her feel like Sal seemed lighter inside somehow.

And she liked Sal.  Faye stretched and yawned, whispering to herself as her thumb slowly found its way into her mouth.

The other Little suddenly banged past Sal and Faye, striding into her room and yanking open the accordion doors on her closet with excess force. "Come on, Faye," she said. "Let's go for a walk."

"She's not even fully dressed!  She needs to rest." Sal protested. "Rachel said- "

"Rachel just left, she has a couple errands to run," Claire retorted. "And we're not going to go far, Sal, she needs fresh air and I just want to-"

"No," ordered a voice, clear and quiet. Claire colored as Oliver, the Witch-man that the Whisper liked, leaned in the doorway. "She's not leaving. Not until Rachel gets back at the very least. Andrew's gone, Oscar's gone, it's just me here and I can't protect the three of you on my own. So we're holding down the fort until your sister gets back."

Claire pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply through her nose before sagging. "Fine," she muttered. "Come on, Faye, let's get you to the toilet then, and into those pull-ups that are one-hundred-percent going to be too big are going to need duct tape to keep them up... but heavens fucking forfend that I try to exchange the damn things!"

"We'll make do," Oliver said quietly.  His voice was like silk to Faye’s ears, she wanted to be closer.  "We always do."

Claire clicked her teeth together but said nothing more, simply tugging Faye down the hall down the bathroom possessively and loudly shutting the door behind the pair of small women.

 

 

Oliver raised an eyebrow and looked Sal up and down. "You look like you got your second wind."

"Happens sometimes," Sal said with a shrug, "but you're not wrong. I was ready to drop earlier but I'm feeling better now." Gathering up the sheets Claire had stripped off the bed and dumped in the hamper, Sal edged past her boss and made for the small laundry room she'd managed to cobble together. The dryer crapped out half the time, but the washer was nearly new, it'd been tossed for just a circuit-board malfunction. A bit of solder and some patience and Sal'd been able to resurrect it. Considering the six-month continence estimate Rachel had just given her, that was probably a bit of a blessing.

Ollie followed at her heels, patient and silent as always. He waited until she'd dumped the scoop of handmade detergent she made into the tub and had the water nice and sudsy before helping her feed the soiled sheets into the washer. Then he reached past her and grabbed the lid, closing it slowly until it clicked shut quietly.

"I think," Ollie said, "that now is a good time to discuss going on the attack."

*     *     *

Lyra had changed so much in the past few months.  Instead of a t-shirt and jeans, she was wearing Nieman Marcus and alligator-skin boots. She half-expected the woman to start filing her teeth the way some of the more twisted sycophants did, trying desperately to fit in with Witch culture, as if they could ever be anything other than human.  Zoë had introduced her friend Lyra to her boss, Mr. Marcel Dubois - the Blue Witch of Apex himself - hoping to get her friend a cushy job, like she had lucked into.  They both came from a poorer part of town, born to blue-collar parents who worked hard for every dollar they earned and Zoë considered herself very, very lucky to sleep in the penthouse of the Apex building, serving as nanny for His Grace’s Familiar.

She had never expected Mr. Dubois to take Lyra as a lover.  She lived in a condo he provided, drove a car he provided, wore the clothes he provided.  And now she was putting it all in danger, like an idiot.

"I really don't think sleeping with Sebastian is a good idea," Zoë said softly, not wanting to wake the Familiar in the carrier.  The girl had been a bit of a terror today, temper tantrums and whining, but she was just tired.  Marcel had been really hard on her during the week, draining her dry daily until she was a sobbing husk.

"Why not?" Lyra asked too loudly, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder.  Zoë winced, glancing into the carrier under the table.  She had picked up the Blue Witch's dry cleaning and had been stopping to eat when Lyra messaged her, inviting her to lunch at Bavette's in Marcel's private balcony.  She expected that the Blue Witch would be there, but it was just the two of them.  Apparently, Lyra got access to even more that Zoë realized.

"Because you're crossing His Grace," the nanny said to her friend gravely.  "It's really not a good idea to cross him, Lyra.  I've worked for him for five years, he's very, very particular about what he considers betrayal.  If you do this... "

"It's done," Lyra shrugged.  "He was a good lay, better than Marcel, honestly."  She laughed as Zoë's eyes flew wide.  "What?"

"You... you really shouldn't talk like that, Lyra.  He's a Witch, he... " the nanny looked around for eavesdroppers.  They were alone, but that didn't mean anything.  The wall itself could be listening - nothing could be taken for granted where a Witch was involved, especially the most powerful Witch in the world.

"Oh boy, do I know he's a Witch," Lyra grinned.  "Have you ever had sex with a Witch, they're- " Lyra's face went from excited and emphatic to bothered as Elise woke, sitting up.

"Nanny?" the Familiar yawned, rubbing her eye with the back of one hand.  Zoë stifled a sigh, narrowing her eyes slightly at Marcel's mistress.  The nap had been far too short, but now it would be impossible to get Elise back to sleep.  "I'm still tired... "

"I know, sweet girl," Zoë cooed, leaning down and pulling the Familiar into her lap.  She loved Elise, in a way.  She pitied the other woman, of course - but Elise had been the catalyst for her rise from the gutter.  She had simply smiled at the Familiar one day while she was serving coffee to Mr. Dubois, not even realizing who he was, and the Familiar had asked to keep her.  And Marcel had.  She lived with them, Marcel, his human wife, and Elise, in the Apex building, towering over the city.

"Can you believe that Familiar used to be human?" Lyra scoffed.  "It's so crazy that she was a real person once."

"Holy Hecate, Lyra - are you hearing yourself?" Zoë scolded, using the Witch-swear without thinking.  "She has feelings."

Sure enough, tears were welling up in Elise's eyes.  Shit.  Zoë scrambled to unbutton her blouse, but she wasn't fast enough.  A wail erupted from Elise and the Familiar began tugging fitfully at the designer tartan romper she was in.  The nanny guided the Familiar's mouth to her nipple as quickly as she could, wincing as Elise nipped her accidentally.  She felt her milk drop quickly and her charge was suckling, the crisis averted.

"She doesn't have feelings," Lyra smirked.  "She's a battery."

"I don't even know you anymore," Zoë said, not even trying to mask the pain in her voice.

"What's to know?" Lyra shrugged, draining her glass of wine before standing.  "I'm hot, I'm sexy, and Witches want me.  I'm on top of the world... and here's my chauffeur for the day.  Hello Margot, you were right, the veal was divine."

The color drained from Zoë's face as Margot strode over.  She knew the Witch, she answered to His Grace directly.  She shrank back, holding Elise tightly.

"Your Radiance," Zoë bowed as best she could, hoping it was good enough.

"What?  Margot's just driving me today, why are you- "

Lyra's voice cut off mid-sentence as Margot raised a hand and placed it on Lyra's face... and then with a burst of violet energy, Lyra's brains were all over the balcony wall.  The Witch leaned over and picked up a large hunk of veal with her clawed fingers and lowered it into that mouth full of terrifyingly pointed teeth.

Zoë bit back tears as her once-friend's body slumped to the floor, but she didn't dare disturb Elise.

"You're a good kid.  Sorry you had to see that," Margot said to her without a smile, walking out as steadily as she had entered.

[Wannatripbaby]

Wow! That escalated quickly! At least it was an instant, painless death. I half expected Margot to place some kind of agonizing curse on the woman.

Also I'm not even gonna try to guess what the heck (or hecate?) Is going on with Faye anymore. There are just too many unknown variables at this point.

Also did you write Elena's lover as "Sophie" before or after your friendship with her budded?

Also what's a hecate?

[bbykimmy]

5 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Wow! That escalated quickly! At least it was an instant, painless death. I half expected Margot to place some kind of agonizing curse on the woman.

Also I'm not even gonna try to guess what the heck (or hecate?) Is going on with Faye anymore. There are just too many unknown variables at this point.

Also did you write Elena's lover as "Sophie" before or after your friendship with her budded?

Also what's a hecate?

Kachan actually named Elena's lover before I ever mentioned Sophie... this part got written while I was still posting Breaking the Girl so Sophie is not Sophie-chan, my twin.

Hecate is the goddess of Witches

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hecate

Also, I think Margot might be my favorite character in Sightlines <3

[YourFNF]

Wow these witches are terrifying. So it's been two hundred years, still trying to figure out the date.

[ELLIE52]

Why didn't Aurora take the Black Witch of Thanatos' offer to bring her Familiar back?

[bbykimmy]

7 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

Why didn't Aurora take the Black Witch of Thanatos' offer to bring her Familiar back?

Because judging by the other non-dead creatures wandering about the Thanatos home.... she'd get a zombie and not her beloved pet.

[bbykimmy]

Chapter Fourteen

Sasha had tossed and turned all night. She'd sent a couple of junior detectives out to the site to see if any of them had found anything else after Tristan's report had come in but all came up with bupkis. This wouldn't be an issue but the Mayor was breathing down the Captain's neck and since Tristan had the morning off - lucky bastard - she was sitting in the hot seat in his stead.

Typing up the zillionth report and making plans to return to the crater that had once housed the second most powerful coven of Witches in the city and the strongest mob boss in the northeast, Sasha barely noticed when the newb at the counter had to get off her stool. The academy graduates did their best but law enforcement was a dying career, especially in a town like this one, and when cutting your teeth in the system required alternately riding stool all day or tromping through the hellishly hot streets as a meter maid, most of the baby cops quit within a year or two. Still, if you paid your dues, you could get moved up, get your own beat. Hell, even sitting at the edge of the city in a squad car hefting a radar gun was better than riding the stool. However, the ones who didn't move up were either stupid, arrogant, or had been blinded by the rhetoric at the Academy, the kind who'd never been corrupt a day in their lives and weren't likely to grasp the ins and outs of the brotherhood of cops in a Witch-run city. Every cop worth their salt had to look the other way when a Witch was involved if they wanted a career or to, you know, keep breathing. 

"I said," enunciated the Witch standing at the front desk to the bullpen, "that I want to talk to whoever deals with the lost and found." She grimaced. "The missing persons report. Missing humans, anyway, they don't particularly count as people. I need to look it over."

"Uh, well, we don't just give that information out?" the new-girl hesitated and Sasha twisted, watching the way the new-girl's head kept angling downward. Either the Witch had a weapon - unlikely - or she was holding something weird. Sasha couldn't see what it was from where she sat though, so she slowly, casually rose and sauntered over toward the counter with the coffee and the decimated box of crullers. It was a cruel stereotype, but not exactly untrue. Pouring herself a cup of foul black sludge - whose turn was it to dump and refill today anyway? - Sasha tipped in a packet of sugar and unabashedly listened in. Anything was better than cramping hands and an aching back from hours hunched over the keyboard again.

"I. Am. A. Witch." the woman growled out. "Surely you're not so stupid as to not see that?"

"Yes, ma'am," the new-girl agreed, "you are most certainly a Witch. But we still can't give that information out. Especially to-" she cut herself off and flushed and the Witch straightened, eyes narrowing.

The shift revealed a pair of gloves.

In this sweltering heat.

Thanatos.

Sasha set down her cup and immediately twisted to make for the front desk before this went sideways and fast.

"I am Aurora Gennova, of the Ivory Tower!" snarled the Witch and Sasha, stunned, slammed her hip into a filing cabinet. Jory, thankfully, wasn't at his desk though the framed picture of his poodle toppled over. Making a mental note to set it to rights before the end of the day, Sasha kept moving. 

"Look, ma'am, I don't care if you're the White Witch herself," the new-girl was saying, with a stunningly patronizing tone - oh shit, she was one of those who thought that Witches actually had to follow the fucking law. "I can't let you see the-"

"I can," Sasha said sharply, pointedly jostling the new-girl on her stool as she reached the desk. "Sasha Anderson," she said, jutting her hand out. "Did I just hear you say that you're one of the White Witches?"

"Was," the woman, Aurora, said distinctly, clicking her teeth. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "I'm looking for a missing human."

"Lose a Familiar or a pet?" Sasha asked, putting as much faux sympathy in her voice as she could. "I know there weren't too many of those in the Ivory Tower, but I'd imagine in the chaos at least one or two made it out."

It was both the right and wrong thing to say. The Witch's eyes narrowed but then her lower lip trembled. "Yes," she whispered after a moment. "Something like that."

"Follow me, please," Sasha invited her, and led the way back to her own pristine workstation. She switched their chairs - her moderately comfortable office chair for the rather uncomfortable visitor's chair - and began typing rapidly. "You're actually in luck," she said as the Witch, grimacing in distaste, settled into her seat. "I am one of the detectives assigned to investigate last night's... incident. So. You coming in here? It's like kismet. We help each other. I interview you, and as soon as I've got your report, we'll go and get you every missing person's report in the city and last night's reports of who came into the ERs and whatnot. If the person you're looking for is hurt, we'll be able to locate them for you, get them home nice and easy."

It was painful to offer this, to be this obsequious, but she had to give the Witch something or else she'd get a lot of hemming and hawing during the interview. 

"Now then," she said, hitting send on her message to Tristan, warning him about the Witch in the station and why she was there, and grabbing her recorder, "let's step into the interview room and see if you can help us catch the bastards who did this."

She didn't miss the way that the new-girl frowned at them as Sasha guided the Witch away. Or how the second the Witch vanished into the interview room the new-girl was suddenly texting rapidly on her phone. Her very, very expensive phone.

Fuck, Sasha thought dismally. Aurora would be safe so long as she stayed in the building but the second she stepped out of it, she'd bet there'd be another Witch waiting for her. Possibly more than one. Great. Just great.

 

*     *     *

It was a warm morning already; Tristan, very aware of being an older man alone in a park, waited until he spotted Rachel limp her way to their meeting bench. She was on crutches and her expression was neutral.

What the hell happened last night?

The sounds of children playing on the playground - few as there were, they were a noisy bunch today - covered the sound of his footsteps. Casually sliding onto the bench beside her, he gently dropped the laptop in the bag between his legs beneath the bench. She didn't turn her face toward him but he knew from the twitch of her left hand that she'd seen the drop.

"Lovely day, right?" he began. Hello. Are we okay to talk?

"Yeah, it really is. Not hot at all," she replied. We're fine to talk, I scanned the area and no one followed me. If she'd responded with a negative, or claimed the weather was stifling, he'd know they weren't safe and to leave immediately.

Slouching further down on the bench, Tristan crossed one leg over the other and waved at the playground. "I find the fact summer's nearly over hard to imagine. One day the kids are all, 'No more teachers! No more books!' and the next they're tearing up the playgrounds." What the hell happened? You were supposed to kill Sarah, not knock down an entire building!

She grimaced. "Well, people are like that. They'll look back later and wonder where all the time went."  It's difficult to explain.

He chuckled. "Everyone grows up, I suppose. Doesn't mean they shouldn't recognize what they have at the moment."  Try me.   He didn't want to move until she'd given him some kind of explanation or he wasn't going to stick his neck out again, no matter how amazing he thought this woman was, no matter how much moxie she had.

Clicking her tongue against her teeth, Rachel leaned over and grabbed a leaf on the ground, stripping off a branch and set it on the bench between them. Then she moved it over an inch. Not here. Someplace safer.

He knocked the leaf off the bench. Fine. When you're ready to talk, contact me in the usual way. 

She nodded and then frowned, glancing at her phone. "Oh, crap! I'm gonna be late for my shift at the vet. We're IDing stray pets today." I will. I rescued a Familiar. I need to find out who she was.

Tristan felt the blood drain from his face. Not five minutes before he'd gotten a text from Sasha - one of the Witches had survived the Ivory Tower's collapse and she was very interested in the Missing Person's report. Apparently, she'd had a shit night.

Which meant he'd have to pick up food on his way to the station. Extra bloody for the Witch.

"Take care," he whispered, not bothering with code. "Good luck finding the pets new homes."

She nodded. "Thanks."

Leaning over, Rachel grabbed the backpack and her crutches, slinging the bag over her shoulders and limping away.

 

*     *     *

Claire, Oscar, Sal, and Ollie sat around their "war table", an old poker table they had scavenged with a faded green velvet top.  The mood was serious in the room, despite poor Faye sleeping in a basket of laundry off to one side of the table, her legs dangling over the edge.  Claire hoped the girl didn't leak on the clean laundry, that pull-up wasn't the best under ideal circumstances.

"Shouldn't Rachel be here for this?" Claire asked, still eyeing Faye.

"Probably," Ollie shrugged, "but she isn't and we've got an opportunity here.  The Winchesters are down, the other covens are going to be scrambling for everything they can get - the Winchester people, assets, businesses.  They had their hands in a lot of things, restaurants, retail stores... and politics.  Everyone is going to be trying to take their piece of the Winchester power base, and that means they're going to be spread thin."

"So who are we targeting?" Sal asked, cocking her head.  "Jade Mask?  Talon?"

"Apex," Ollie answered, causing everyone to sit bolt upright.

"Apex?" Oscar asked uncertainly, "Is that a good idea, boss?  We never go after Apex directly.  If any coven is going to bring the hammer down on us, it's... "

"The Blue Witch is going to be spreading his people even thinner than the other covens - not only will Apex be going after the Winchester resources, they'll be actively trying to keep everyone else from getting any of them first.  Hard to play defense and offense at the same time unless you overcommit."

"Usual play then?" Claire inquired.  "Oscar and I go out and recon a target, I play the innocent Familiar being walked by a bodyguard and we find our in?"

"I don't think so," Ollie smirked.  "I found the location of an Apex thinktank - some of their best and brightest.  We're going to blow it the fuck up."

"What?" Claire screeched, jolting forward.  "You're kidding, right?  That's not how we work, Ollie!  One target at a time!  Why don't we pick one of these brainiacs to lure and do it the usual way?  Low risk- "

"Low reward," Oliver countered.  "Apex will be vulnerable and Apex is never vulnerable, Claire.  This could be our one shot.  For all we know, this is the very place that they developed the Transformation spell originally."

Claire felt the grip on her heart.  That was a low blow.  She hated Apex more than anyone, more than any coven, but crossing them was a bad idea.

"Think about it," Oliver continued, "What if this is how we stop whatever their next human-altering spell is?  What if we can save someone from what happened to you and Faye."

"Fine," Claire snapped.  "Fine.  How do we do it?"

"We're going to need Andrew," Oliver sighed.  "Every hand.  Rachel too.  Sal's going to get into their security and put the building on lockdown, you are on lookout.  Oscar and Andrew are wheelmen, Rachel and I are going to plant the explosives."

"What explosives?" Oscar asked, idly rubbing a horn.

"We've got the bombs that we got from that Talon hit way ba- "

"You're crazy!" Clare stood in the chair, throwing her arms up.  "We aren't Witches, Ollie!  You're the only one who's going to be able to trigger the spell on those!"

"And Faye," he replied quietly.

"What?" Claire asked defensively, looking over to the passed out Familiar.  "You're kidding, right?  She can't do a mission.  She got rescued yesterday, she's got to come down from- "

"She blew up the Ivory Tower, Claire," Oliver snapped.  "For all we know she could blow this place up by herself.  I can feel the magic in her, she'll be able to trigger the damned bomb."

They sat silently around the table, all their faces ashen and drawn, when the entrance taps came at the basement. Three long, two short, three long, one short today. 

Oliver rose slowly, his hand crossed over his chest to his shoulder holster, fingers barely brushing the butt of his gun, and peered through the crack in the wall - across the hallway there was a security mirror angled just so to give a hint who exactly was outside the basement door. 

"Rachel," he said softly and dropped his hand off his gun before jogging out the sub-basement door, up the flight of stairs, to the enchanted and enhanced basement door where he quickly unbolted the locks and drew the chains.

"This shit's heavy." Rachel's voice carried down the stairs. "You carry it."

"Of course, highness," came Oliver's amused drawl as Rachel limped down the stairs. She paused in the doorway, face sliding into a careful blankness at the sight of them all.

Claire felt her heart sink. They'd forgotten: Rachel's leg was broken. She wasn't breaking into anywhere in that condition.

The tense figure of Oliver slipped past Rachel and she realized that Ollie had just realized the same thing. They were all used to Rachel being, well, Rachel. Unbreakable. Uncatchable. Untouchable.

But she was just a human.

"Fuck," Oscar said succinctly, joining the other two in the realization.

"Hello to you too," Rachel drawled. "It's hotter outside than Pompeii after Vesuvius blew. Why are you all huddled right next to the damn dryer?"

Claire grimaced. "Come on, Rach."

"What? Too soon?" her sister teased with a grin, limping into the room and settling down in Oliver's abandoned spot. "I figured shit that happened during the Roman Empire was fair game."

"We’re planning a job, but… your leg's broke," Oscar groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Rachel raised eyebrow. "Seeing as you were the one who, ya know, drove me to see Doc earlier, I figured you would've noticed by now. What the hell is going on, guys?" Oliver dropped the backpack he'd been carrying - obviously whatever Rachel had him carry down the stairs - and she yelped. "Hey now! Careful with that!"

"What is it?" he asked dully. "Did you scan it before you brought it in?"

"I did, actually," she replied, pursing her lips and examining him thoughtfully. "It's why I'm late. But your friend and mine, our friendly neighborhood contact, left a message saying this was the Ivory Tower Underboss' laptop. Stolen from her apartment." Rachel dug into her pocket and came up with a slip of yellow sticky paper, dropping it on the nubby velvet tabletop. Claire glanced at it but the note just looked like a grocery list to her. Oliver picked it up, made a moue of disgust, and dropped the crumpled paper back on the table.

"I'll get right on it," Sal said with a grimace, reaching out and snagging a strap, reeling it toward her.

"Make sure Ollie looks over it again when you pop the case," Rachel reminded her. "Just because the sniffers say it's clean, that doesn't mean that there aren't any other nasties hidden in the laptop itself."

"Gotcha, thanks," Sal said and bundled the backpack in her arms, hurrying off.

Claire couldn't help herself. "Ollie wanted to blow up an Apex think-tank," she tattled.

"Wants," Oliver said. "Oliver wants to set a bomb off in an Apex think-tank."

[YourFNF]

I like this plan. But yeah it's going to bring a lot of heat.

[HyperShark]

8 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

I like this plan. But yeah it's going to bring a lot of heat.

The best idea would be to frame this attack as an attack from another coven. With the recent fall of Winchester you may be able to get a witch civil war going.

[YourFNF]

9 minutes ago, HyperShark said:

The best idea would be to frame this attack as an attack from another coven. With the recent fall of Winchester you may be able to get a witch civil war going.

Good thinking

[ELLIE52]

7 minutes ago, HyperShark said:

The best idea would be to frame this attack as an attack from another coven. With the recent fall of Winchester you may be able to get a witch civil war going.

Good Plan, Hyper.

*****************

Which coven was Claire in as a Familiar?  Was it Apex?

So many of the police are crooked.  It would be a good idea to figure out which coven is funding them.

[Guilend]

Good idea, pin it on another coven, maybe that one that deals with dead things that way they can show their true power and become the number 1 coven over night, wiping out the worst of the worst

[Wannatripbaby]

I love the code-talk between Rachel and Tristan!

And I also like Sasha's realism about the whole law enforcement situation. Witches are above the law. Period. You can either accept that and do what you can to protect the innocent or you can get your head blown off.

Grammar Patrol:

1 hour ago, bbykimmy said:

She didn't miss the way that the new-girl frowned at them as Rachel guided the Witch away.

You mean Sasha?

[CDfm]

I absolutely cannot keep up with your crazy pace. That’s not a bad thing but I don’t get to provide feedback or leave likes as I should. The story is moving on great. I think that what they need to concentrate on is harnessing the power that Faye has. That and getting into that computer. Faye can both protect the group and be used as a very powerful weapon. I was pleased to be able to give this a like. I hope to stay on top of things but I know that isn’t likely. 

[warpiper]

Is this story still going? We got crazy fast updates and now nothing. It has me hooked!

[Wannatripbaby]

4 hours ago, warpiper said:

Is this story still going? We got crazy fast updates and now nothing. It has me hooked!

She took a little break to work on a special side-project. I.e. Barbara Davis, Why Thirteen? I'm sure we'll be getting back into Sightlines real soon.

[bbykimmy]

6 hours ago, warpiper said:

Is this story still going? We got crazy fast updates and now nothing. It has me hooked!

I'm so glad you stopped in to comment!  As far as I'm aware, Sightlines has like 6 real fans (7 now!) and to everyone else it's kind of "meh" ... so I haven't been suuuuuper motivated to work on it.  It's a love project between me and my mommy-type, we're writing it together.  As Trip said, I put it on hold to write my Choose Your Own Adventure story and that's all done now (and the Likes have started to trail off already ). 

I'm going to build up a backlog of Sightlines chapters again and go back to posting 1 per day, that's how I always do it

So when we start up again, it'll be crazy fast updates.

1 hour ago, Wannatripbaby said:

She took a little break to work on a special side-project. I.e. Barbara Davis, Why Thirteen? I'm sure we'll be getting back into Sightlines real soon.

Yep, Kachan and I started working on this one again this week.  We'll kick back into gear in the next week or two.

[Crinkleybutt]

Yay! I'm super happy to hear that this story hasn't been abandoned.

[Bluebird67]

Yes, please continue with this story. There are so many interesting plot threads and characters. Also, we get to see what you and Kachan create when you combine your talents.

[bbykimmy]

Chapter Fifteen

Aurora shifted uncomfortably in the human-sized chair.  In her opinion, the creatures should have converted all of their furniture by this point, and she hated having to duck to walk through their tiny doors.  The Witches had been in control long enough that their buildings should have been modified by now.  It would be vastly preferable for them to tolerate furniture that was too large than for her to have to suffer through walking through a world that was too small.

The Witches should have been more hands-on long ago, rather than ramping it up in just the last fifty years or so.

"This is officer Sasha MacCabe interviewing, Thursday, August 12th, year 412," she smiled what Aurora assumed was intended to be a friendly smile with her disgusting flat plant-chewing teeth and nodded.  "Please, Your Reverence, state your name for the record?"  Aurora blinked in surprise that the creature had gotten her honorific correct without being told.  Perhaps she wasn't completely stupid after all.

"I am Lieutenant Aurora Gennova of the Winchester Coven, third degree White Witch," she answered, obliging the human in response to her proper manners.

"Last night, Your Reverence, the home of the Winchester coven - traditionally referred to as the Ivory Tower - was destroyed.  Is that true?"

"It is," Aurora agreed.

"The destruction was determined to be magical in nature - what, exactly, blew up the Ivory Tower?"  The human's tone was still deferential, but the questions were becoming more difficult.  She could end the interview at any time, but it would be easier to get what she wanted if she played along.

"I am not aware of any spell that could cause the destruction that was wrought upon my sisters," Aurora emphasized the word, making sure to let the human know she was treading on dangerous ground.  "The Ivory Tower was invaded and heinously attacked by an unknown assailant,"  she couldn't tell the human that the assailant was a non-Witch - it didn't matter if the red-haired woman was human or Witch-blooded, to admit that a lower creature had destroyed the second most powerful coven would give them false hope... and no one wanted the filthy Resistance to be emboldened.

Apex was behind this somehow, she was sure of it.

"What can you tell me about this assailant, Your Reverence?" the human asked, fixating on the one thing Aurora didn't want to discuss.

"I am not going to answer that question," Aurora sniffed.  "It is Witch business."

Sasha went down the traditional list of questions first, despite the Witch’s obvious disdain for the whole of humanity - this initial interview had to be as by-the-book and airtight as she could possibly manage. She could leave no future wiggle room for anyone involved and the line of procedure had to be unbroken and smooth. Sasha doubted that whoever had the balls to blow up the damn Ivory Tower would still be sticking around to get collared, but criminals sometimes flubbed. The stupider ones did, at least. After about the tenth question, the Witch was growing noticeably agitated and by the fifteenth, she was actively irritated. By the thirtieth, Sasha was supremely glad that the cameras were rolling, for otherwise Aurora might just reach across the table, grab her by the neck, and pop her head like a zit.  The consequences of killing her on film would be inconvenient, at least.

The whole interview took over four hours - it was nearing noon by time Sasha was able to shove her head out the door and call for an assist. When the intern - a doe-eyed thing from the local high school - brought the last three months’ missing persons reports, Sasha was exhausted and hoping that Tristan had thought to grab her a burger on the way in. The whole room stank of ozone and Witch temper - the hairs on her arms felt permanently risen from the pressure changes the Witch wrought with her shifting moods - and all Sasha wanted was to escort Aurora out.

Maybe she'd stalled enough for whoever was waiting to have bailed? A girl could only dream.

"Would you like us to put a team on you?" Sasha offered as Aurora eagerly snatched up the file of pictures and began flipping through them rapidly. "For protection? Surely if someone were trying to harm your-"

"No," the Witch said absently, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I don't need your pathetic human excuses for- OH!"

She slapped the folder down. "This is her. She's been altered into a Familiar, so she looks slightly different now, but this is her! I'm positive!"

Sasha leaned over to see the poster for an okay-looking blonde woman.

 

FAYE ELIZABETH HERALD
22 Years Old
Last Seen: Darran's Old-Fashioned Diner
IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION ABOUT THIS WOMAN, PLEASE CONTACT 732-555-3131.

 

"Faye," Sasha said in a musing voice. She checked the dates, the girl had been missing eight weeks at this point, nearly nine. "And you're certain this is the Familiar?"

"Positive," gritted out Aurora just as there was a tap on the interview room door and Tristan poked his head in. "I'd recognize that face anywhere!"

"Lunch," Tristan said. "I picked up extra for our guest."

"Human food?" Aurora asked with distaste, staring at the unmarked brown paper bag.  She watched, barely hiding her disgust as the Sasha unwrapped her burger and took a giant bite.  Tristan slid a wrapped container across the table before unwrapping his own.  With a sigh, the Witch opened the package - she looked hungry, every human knew how to tell a hungry Witch from a contented one, their lips thinned out and their claws extended slightly, and their pupils took on a faint red tint.  Angering any Witch was foolish, angering a hungry one was suicidal.  Sasha couldn't see Aurora's claws beneath the gloves, but her eyes were tell enough.

Why is she wearing the gloves?  Sasha wondered.  The Winchesters would kick her out if she were Marked.

Sasha flashed three fingers and then clenched her fist twice in a way that Tristan would catch it out of the corner of his eye... he did, good.

"I hope it will be to your liking, Your Reverence," he said smoothly.  Perfect.

The ex-Winchester opened her food and revealed the medium-rare half-pound burger patty wrapped entirely in bacon.  The Witch was so surprised, apparently pleased, and hungry... that she slipped off her gloves and grabbed the food, taking a big bite with her terrifying, sharp teeth.

Sasha looked away quickly, averting her eyes from the Deathmark crawling up the Witch's right hand...

That's not good, she thought, her heart pounding.  Shit, what do I do?  Any Witch with a Deathmark outside of the Thanatos was bad news.  They were unhinged, dangerous.

"So why is a Winchester interested in a Familiar?" Tristan asked boldly, not looking up from his food.  "I thought your sisters hated pets."

"Hate is a strong word," Aurora replied, a look of contentment on her face.  I guess the way to a Witch's heart is through her stomach too, Sasha mused, wishing more than anything that Aurora would slip her gloves back on.  "Some of us are quite fond of Familiars.  If you've ever spent time around one, ever cared for one... you'd understand."

Finally, finally the Witch realized what she'd done and slipped the expensive leather gloves back on.  The detective tried desperately not to sigh her relief as the Witch's eyes bored into her.  Sasha stared at her burger, as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything.

"You sound," Tristan said as he finished a bite, looking up and meeting the Witch's eyes, "like you know from experience."

Shit Tristan, Sasha winced, clenching the fingers of her left hand rapidly, trying to signal Tristan to drop this line of conversation - he hadn't been there when she'd almost stepped on that landmine four hours ago.  Don't.

"My Familiar died in the explosion," the Witch's voice actually sounded pained.  Sasha finally looked up, surprised to see what appeared to be real heartbreak on her face as she finally answered one of the questions she had danced around or flat out refused during the four hour interview.  "I loved her very much."

Panic rose in Sasha's heart as she looked to Tristan - he had the upper hand here, he could twist the knife and really hurt the Witch... but it would not go well.  He saw the Mark, he had to realize she was unstable.  Don't.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked calmly, "Want to tell me about her?  She obviously meant a lot to you.  More than just a dumb pet… "

"She was the best thing that ever came out of the wretched cesspool you call humanity," a blood-tear slipped down Aurora's cheek and Sasha's heart almost stopped.  "She was sweet and gentle and too good for this world."  The Witch set the half-eaten burger-thing down, wiping her gloves on a napkin before snatching the folder with Faye Herald's information.

"Wait, you can't- " Sasha objected instinctively and was rewarded with a gust of wind that slammed her against the wall, still sitting in her chair.

"I am a third degree White Witch," Aurora snapped.  "And I can."

Tristan and Sasha watched as the Witch stormed out, a sudden breeze blowing papers this way and that in the precinct.

"Get ready for the light show," Tristan remarked.

"No... who showed?  I stalled like hell to give her a chance."

"Apex," Tristan said as he rose, walking out of the room with his burger in hand.  "Find a north-facing window."

"Why didn't you warn her?" Sasha scrambled after him.

"Because she's a Witch."

*     *     *

Zoë slowly pushed open the door to the penthouse. It'd been a small miracle, but Elise was out again, curled in her carrier like a kitten, her thumb in her mouth and her lashes spread in an arc over her cheekbones, leaving pale shadows against her flesh. She carried the Familiar to the nursery, stripped her down, cleaned her up with wipes, and then dressed the small woman in her personal favorite nightgown for Elise - a scoop-necked simple cotton smock, cap-sleeved and patterned in buttercream and buttercups, that fell just past Elise's knees. Elise wasn't gorgeous - the prettiest Familiar in the Apex clan, so far as Zoë knew, belonged to some no-name accountant down on the sixth floor - but she was supposedly powerful.

"Gotta bathe you later," Zoë whispered to her, easing the Familiar into the crib and flicking off the light, flicking on the noise machine, and easing backward out of the room on tiptoes. Still, she really did adore the tiny woman, hollowed out or not. Elise was sweet and gentle, when she wasn't drained absolutely empty all the time, and she laughed like paper bags crumpling, a low crinkly, crumbly noise that never failed to make Zoë smile.

Dazed, Zoë stumbled down the hall, past Guinevere who stopped cold, the briefcase falling out of her hand and clattering on the ground. Without thinking, Zoë knelt down and began gathering the fallen papers. Gwen knelt beside her and asked quietly, "Who died?"

"Lyra," Zoë whispered.

"Reason?  Location?" Guinevere had once been on a meteoric rise toward District Attorney before her looks, brain, and ambition had brought her to Marcel's attention. She still practiced law - entirely for the Apex, of course - but it was mostly to keep her hand in. She wasn't quite the lady of leisure Marcel wanted for a wife, the status symbol of an unworking and exquisite wife, but he had... well used to have... Lyra for that.

"Affair with Sebastian, I'm sure.  Bavette’s," Zoë choked out and Guinevere grimaced, then nodded once sharply.

"I don't suppose you have any other beauty queen friends you feel like sacrificing to the altar of Marcel's libido?" she asked calmly, but Zoë knew Gwen was both serious and joking. It was a common defense mechanism for the human members of the Apex clan. Always leave yourself reasonable doubt. "Elise down?"

Zoë didn't miss that Guinevere didn't ask about her own daughter or son - her children with Marcel were fourteen and ten respectively. Bethany was Witchblooded and Marcel recognized her but mostly avoided her. Anthony was a Witch but more interested in blowing things up and getting expelled from private school after private school for being a royal, entitled shit than he was in his family. Both were home for the holidays before they were shipped off to their respective boarding schools. Guinevere fought every year to keep them with her, as she had since they were small, but Marcel's will always prevailed. Bethany was a bit of a snob but ultimately okay, in Zoë’s opinion. Anthony... Zoë didn't like being alone in a room with him, only ten years old or not, and she never left Elise with him either.

"Yes, ma'am," Zoë nodded. "She's exhausted."

"I bet," Guinevere muttered. "Okay, dear, go clean up. I'll send a team out to Bavette's, if it hasn't already been done.

Curtseying, Zoë said nothing but slipped past her and trudged slowly to the bathroom. The image in the mirror showed a shell-shocking looking face she barely recognized - a tangle of dirty-blonde hair, too narrow features stippled with dried clots of blood and what could only be brain matter. Numb, she smacked the faucet until the water ran and then stripped, leaving her ruined clothing in a puddle on the floor. It'd been a miracle that she hadn't been stopped walking back to Apex Tower, honestly. 

Stepping beneath the spray, Zoë began lathering the shampoo through her gummy hair. The splash hadn't been huge, not as bad as it could have been.

"Gotta call Drew," Zoë whispered. "Finish the shower, call Drew. Finish the shower. Call Drew."

Then, helplessly, she stumbled back against the shower wall, feeling the tile shockingly cold against her back, slid down to the floor, and began to cry. 

[Wannatripbaby]

okay, so we've learned a few things this chapter:

-The year is 412. Obviously not by our calendar. Apparently whatever happened to cause this world's timeline to split from ours happened 412 years ago.

-Witches can't hide their emotions as well as humans. Both because they don't need to and because their bodies morph slightly based upon their mood.

Side note: Once again bacon saves the day. :)

Also I have a question: what's the difference between being a Witch and being Witchblooded?

[CDfm]

That was another awesome chapter. Knowing who the familiar is still doesn’t mean they know where to go and find her or what powers she has. Still they are at least one step closer to finding her. This was well worth a like. I am looking forward to reading more. 

[Sarah Penguin]

Hope for more when you can

[bbykimmy]

On 7/15/2019 at 10:12 PM, Sarah Penguin said:

Hope for more when you can

Sadly, this one will never be continued.  I was writing this with my partner and we broke up.  I won't be continuing it, sorry.