No Angel Came: Chapter 2 *HF*
By Loki
"I don't think you even know what you think you just said."
--Tori Amos
She was only 5’2, but such power seemed to radiate from her. Or maybe it wasn’t so much power as a presence. You could tell by looking at her that she had seen things that others would never see and knew things that no one else could possibly know. Bobbi Todd seemed very average looking when you first looked at her. Fair skin and soft brown eyes . . . an easygoing personality. So she was easily dismissed at first. And perhaps that was her greatest power. The way that the world underestimated her could very well be her greatest weapon. Bobbi Todd sat at her desk now and chewed on the end of her pen. Everything had been going very well for the Grey Court lately, right down to their new recruits. Daemon was turning out to be a very powerful king that demanded respect. He was well worthy of the position, she was sure. Yet . . . somewhere . . . something was off.
Bobbi remembered having a dream last night. A weird dream that she couldn’t remember now for the life of her. And the more she tried to dismiss it, the more it haunted her. It suddenly seemed terribly important to remember it. As she was concentrating she started to develop a headache between her eyes. She winced but ignored the pain. She let it build until it was almost unbearable. The pain pulsed within her like a great white light that she could almost see. And then . . . right when she was about to give up and relax . . . it stopped. Bobbi blinked twice and got up from her desk. Then, almost as though in a trance she started making her way towards Daemon’s room.
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He used to know who he was. He had it down to a handshake…to a blink. He was exactly who he wanted to be. Things were good then. Predictable and clean. But then…it happened. The change that came so quick that he never knew what hit him. It felt like slamming into a wall. And now he had been so many people that he was no longer sure which one he really was. And he was no longer sure that it even mattered anymore. But by talking to him, you could never tell. Perhaps Jacob was a true God of Lies, but he could never lie to himself. Now he stared at Greg and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do. He raised the gun . . . he was an assassin. It was his job to kill, not to question. He took aim but didn’t press on the trigger. Instead, he followed Greg . . . keeping him in range almost playfully.
“Just a little pressure, Greg,” he whispered to himself. “That’s all it would take. Just a little pressure and BAAM!”
“ . . . You’re dead,” a voice answered from behind him. Slowly Loki looked up to see a young girl standing above him, her gun pointed at a most inconvenient spot.
“You must be Loki,” she said, keeping her gun aimed at his groin. He groaned inwardly but simply smiled at her.
“And who the fuck are you, my pretty?” he responded, careful to keep his voice low and soft.
“I’m Toby . . . the white assassin.”
“So the white finally meets the grey. . .”
“I could kill you,” Toby said smugly, her eyes never leaving his face. She seemed calm, but she was also young. He could see right through it. Loki stared at her, the slight smile still on his face.
“But, why would you want to do that?” he asked. “I mean, don’t you want an assassin friend to play with?”
“Quit talking to me like I’m a little kid!!” Toby yelled. “I’ve killed people before and I’m certainly not afraid to kill a jerk like you!”
“No doubt,” Loki agreed with a shrug. “Well, quit trying to shoot me and just goddamn shoot me then. I’m tired of this stupid game!” Toby’s lip quivered but she kept the gun steady. She was used to being yelled at.
“Or we could forget the gun and just fool around inst--” before Loki could finish his sentence the gun went off and he felt a white hot pain in his knee.
“I hear the kneecap is one of the most painful places to get shot,” Toby said flatly as she lowered the smoking gun. “Maybe next time you’ll learn to speak nice to a lady!” As she marched away, Loki couldn’t help but laugh through his intense pain. Finally, someone as crazy as he was!
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It was so dark. No crickets or tree frogs could be heard. Nothing except the cars passing by and an occasional yell or scream. It was a good night to rest. Yet, she could not rest. Her sheets were twisted with earlier efforts to push these thought away and sleep. Her body wanted to cry, but her mind wanted to race. Blackfire sighed and sat up straight in bed. Her hands groped for the lamp beside her and she massaged her temples. She couldn’t help but feel ever since she left the white court that she was some sort of criminal. So far she couldn’t even find a place where she felt safe to stay. She tried staying with her best friend, Josh, but felt like she was putting him in danger. Then she went to Michael Breslin, who she hoped would give her some good advice. But Mike had been away and she had decided not to wait for him. Probably for the best anyway, she thought. Blackfire stretched in the bed and yawned. Then she stood up and looked out the window of the small motel room that she was in. Such a pretty, peaceful night. It almost seemed. . . too. . . peaceful. The ringing phone caused her to come out of her daze quickly as she blinked. Then she smiled softly to herself. “I knew it was too quiet”. Blackfire walked up to the phone, which seemed to glow with eerie indifference in the dark and picked it up.
“Hello,” she whispered into the receiver.
“Hello. . . Sharon?” the voice was a female, soft and calm, though slightly higher than her own.
“Yes?” Blackfire answered. Now her looked had turned from one to amusement to one of concern.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” the voice went on. “It’s just. . . okay. My name is BobbiTodd and I am Daemon’s secretary.”
Daemon, she thought to herself. Good God!
“Is he okay? What happened?” she demanded.
“Oh, no no, he’s fine,” Bobbi answered quickly.
“Then what is it?” Blackfire demanded. “Why are you calling me so late?” She didn’t mean to lose her patience, she had just been so scared that something had happened to Gabe. And he was really the only person besides Khalid and Josh that she felt like she could talk to anymore.
“Well, this is going to sound really weird,” BobbiTodd said apologetically. “But sometimes. . . sometimes I can find lost things.”
“Like. . . keys?” Blackfire asked.
“Well, yes. And people. . .”
“Like missing people?”
“Lost people, yes. Anyway, I had a really weird feeling just now and I think I went into a trance. When I came out of it I was in Daemon’s room, which he usually keeps locked, and I had your phone number in my hand.”
Blackfire took a deep breath.
“I think there’s been a mistake, Bobbi,” she said, keeping her voice steady as her heart raced. “See, I’m not lost.”
“Honey, I just see things. I don’t decide them. I just thought I would give you a call and tell you.”
“What should I do?” Blackfire asked.
“I couldn’t tell you that. I only know what I see and feel.”
“What do you feel?”
“I feel that you should come here as quickly as possible.” Sharon stared out the window again. It would be nice to visit Gabe for a while. Besides, getting out of these smoky hotel rooms would probably be good for her. She didn’t know BobbiTodd, but something in the woman’s voice seemed genuine and concerned. Besides, if something happened to Daemon and there was something that she could have done about it. . .
“Okay, Bobbi, I’ll be there in the morning.”
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Mystikal sighed as she stared at the clothes in her closet. She hated, hated, hated these damn meetings where they had to dress up! She would much rather sit back and watch some television. As much as she liked the grey court, she still didn’t quite feel like she was a part of it. Part of Mystikal wanted to be loved and to belong so bad, and the other part told her not to give a fuck. But she did. She was just really good at hiding it. Finally, she picked out a long black dress that set off her silver hair. She didn’t bother to add any jewelry. Besides, she was already running late! Scampering to one side of the room, Mystikal half tripped and half walked as she tried to put on her high heels at the same time as she was trying to pull her hair back. Screw it, she thought as she left her hair fly wild down her back. She jerked around when she heard a laugh at the doorway.
“There you are, Celeste! Damn it, help me find my other shoe!” Siren walked in, still grinning and started the hopeless search for the missing shoe.
“You’d better hurry, Shannon,” Siren warned. “They’re almost ready and I don’t think Daemon would appreciate you being late.”
“Trust me, I’ve learned that lesson already!” Mystikal said as she tripped over a brush on her floor and barely managed to regain her balance.
“Aren’t you girls ready by now??” came the bewildered voice of Martin Blank from the hallway.
“AHHHHH!!!” Mystikal screamed in frustration. “Celeste, shut the door so I won’t have to listen to him! And, for god’s sake, where is my shoe!!”
“You mean, this shoe?” Bobbi Todd, who had just walked in, asked as she lifted the black shoe out from behind Mystikal’s bed.
“Oh, now that’s not fair!” Mystikal said, stomping her foot on the ground.
“Hey,” Bobbi Todd answered, “when you’re good; you’re good!” Mystikal forced her poor foot into the shoe and started walking with Siren, Bobbi, and Martin to the meeting.
“Where is Echo anyway?” Martin Blank asked.
“Why do we all have to get dressed up like this?” Siren asked, staring down at her light green dress, which was shorter than Mystikal’s and went well with her red hair.
“Echo will be there, and because we just do,” Bobbi Todd answered. “Now quit being grumpy and enjoy yourself!” Siren looked at Mystikal, who rolled her eyes. Siren shrugged and continued walking. They were all greeted by Byron standing at the door. She was wearing dark red, a color that seemed appropriate for a hell goddess, and her lovely blonde hair was pulled back, showing off her face. She smiled at them and gestured for them to enter the room. Bobbi Todd entered first, followed quickly by Martin Blank, who was still searching for Echo, Siren, and a very reluctant Mystikal. As Mystikal was walking through the door, Byron caught her arm. Mystikal looked up in sharp surprise and then heard Byron say:
“Don’t worry, I don’t like these stupid meetings either.” Byron smiled and Mystikal smiled back. Maybe there was some kind of understanding between them.
Mystikal sat down on the other side of Siren in one of the softest chairs that she had ever been in. “I want one in my room,” Siren mouthed to her, pointing to the soft cushiony grey seat she was sitting on. Mystikal nodded her agreement and gave Scrib a friendly smile as Scrib plopped down beside her.
“I just want to get back to me rum,” Scrib said with a mischievous grin. “I do believe it’s callin’ me name. I hate t’ leave it lonely.” Mystikal tried not to laugh out loud as she focused her attention to the front, where Daemon was standing. He almost seemed patient as he sat there and waited for them to get settled in their seats. Marvel Girl stood beside him, looking wonderful in a pearl white dress. Daemon suddenly cleared his throat in an effort to get them all to be silent and began to talk.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he began. “And I’m glad to see you all could make it.” His eyes scanned the crowd quickly as if to make sure this statement was true.
“Yes, I’m glad to see. . . hold on a minute. . .” Daemon suddenly said. Mystikal was alarmed to see a sudden fierce look in his eyes. Someone was in trouble!
“Hold on a goddamn minute,” Daemon said. “Where the fuck is the grey assassin? Does he think he can just skip out on these meetings?” Marvel Girl’s eyebrows went up as she scanned the crowd too for Loki. In fact, everyone started almost frantically looking around them for the missing man.
“This had better not be one of his stupid tricks,” Daemon added. “I am so sick of this! If I had wanted tricks, I would have hired a goddamn clown!”
Mystikal felt herself standing up suddenly. She didn’t know Loki too well, but she decided that she had better either defend him or distract Daemon until he got there. She decided on the latter.
“Uhm. . . Daemon?” she asked uncertainly. Daemon’s eyes met hers just as a figure bursts through the doors with a wild yell.
“Oh Lord, here it comes,” Scrib whispered.