Depths of Chaos Ch. 10

Depths of Chaos Chapter 10

This story is part of a series. Although it can be read on it's own, parts of the story may make more sense when read in order. I highly recommend reading the story "The Demon" in order to discover the origins of our beloved Kali. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

"What are you?"

Kali had a feeling she would grow tired of that question very quickly in the years ahead. Of course, that presumed she would survive to see those years. She didn't know what was expected of her, but she did know the Sorcerer wanted her powers. And while Tral'zla'thor might not have had any moral compunctions against using them in certain ways, she certainly did.

Kali couldn't find the speakers, but somehow the electronically modulated voice seemed to fill the room. The electronic filter made it impossible to tell anything about the speaker, but that fact didn't worry her. She didn't need to hear the real voice to know it was the Sorcerer. She assumed that there was a microphone to go with the hidden speakers.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Not really true. Kali could certainly guess, especially considering what Simon had shown her of her aura, and even more because of her powers. In truth, the question probably rankled her so much because she simply didn't have an answer for it. Even Simon and the PIA didn't know how to classify her. And the demon's seemingly infinite knowledge didn't help any.

"I summon the mighty Tral'zla'thor and find instead a teenage girl. Who are you?"

There really was very little hint of emotion. It could be the modulator, but Kali suspected it was mostly a case of the Sorcerer's lack.

At least this was a question Kali felt comfortable with. She could lie, considered it for a moment, but the Sorcerer already knew the truth. After all, the policeman had tracked her down fairly successfully. Granted she was in the same exact spot as the only other time the two had met, but the first time she had been with Simon.

"Kali Donnoly."

"Thank you. If we work together in order to figure out this mystery, it will go much more easily."

This time there was courtesy to the tone. The filter could have masked if it was forced but at least it demonstrated an attempt at civility. That alone gave Kali hope that there might be some way out of this alive.

"Now, how is it that my attempt to summon a greater Demon connected me with you?"

Kali paused to think of a response. She didn't know if she should tell the truth. How would the Sorcerer react to the knowledge that a Demon's power, their very essence, could be stolen? Although she still couldn't seem to access the demon's memories, she did remember that a Sorcerer's potential was only limited by the amount of power they could pour into a spell. Although there were some things her powers could do that even a Sorcerer couldn't, they were few and far between.

"I... I somehow absorbed the demon you're trying to summon."

Silence. There hadn't been any static or other indications that there even were speakers in the walls. Unfortunately, that meant that the lack of conversation kept Kali from any guesses. How had the Sorcerer reacted to the news? She could imagine any number of responses, from anger to confusion to curiosity, and all of them could bode poorly for her.

The minutes dragged by. Kali was now almost certain that the Sorcerer had left. Whatever the response, it had been too overwhelming to continue the interrogation. She nearly jumped when the voice finally returned.

"The third time I tried to summon you was different. I almost succeeded, despite your resistance, but someone fought for you. Who's help did you summon?"

Another question that the Sorcerer likely knew the answer to. Kali knew how to answer this one without revealing too much. Especially since the policeman who had brought her here had seen the attack.

"There's a PIA agent in town investigating the murders. That attempt led him to discern the pattern of the attacks and suspect the role you played in them, inadvertently or not."

She didn't need the Sorcerer to know that it was she who had actually given him the pieces to put together.

Kali was surprised by a quick snort of laughter at her comment. It was the kind that could not be controlled. What it told Kali was that the Sorcerer thought something about his, or her, involvement with three murders was ironic. Kali wasn't sure that there had been a fourth murder. That could simply have been a ploy to get her in the police car.

"That is all I need of you for now. I will likely have more questions for you later."

Kali nearly toppled the cot in her haste to stand.

"Wait! What about me? You can't just keep me here like this! What am I supposed to do in here? What about food? What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

Once more there was no reply. Kali's words briefly echoed off of the walls, but quickly died. She sat heavily on the cot and fell back to lie with her hands behind her head. Frustration virtually radiated from her. She had been kidnapped, and there was no way Simon would be able to find her. After all, he couldn't track either the Sorcerer or the demonic killer. She supposed the Sorcerer might have released the other demon, after her capture, but more likely it had been kept on retainer in case things didn't pan out with her.

"Do you still eat?"

Kali jumped at the voice's abrupt return.

"Of course I do! I'm still human. I might have been able to conjure something up, or maybe even avoid the need to eat, and... well... whatnot, but you've shut down these stupid powers."

"I see."

Kali cringed. She'd just given the Sorcerer a lot of very valuable information, and all of it had just slipped out. Once more the insecurity about her true nature had stung, only this time she'd been the one to cause the damage. Not only had she revealed that she had abilities, but she had confirmed that whatever the Sorcerer had done had successfully negated them. Even if either of those facts had been merely suspected, she had confirmed them.

"Never fear, I endeavor to be a gracious host. To mortals at any rate. Food will be brought to you soon. Do you have any medical impediments I will need to be aware of; allergies, diabetes, asthma, or the like?"

Kali simply shook her head and slumped back into the cot's uncomfortable embrace.

A gracious host wouldn't hold me against my will!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clawed fingers wrapped around Simon's arms like a vice. Although he couldn't move, the hands that held him didn't feel harsh or scaly, as he would expect from the physical contact of a dragon. All he could do, as the beast's maw opened, was tense for the final strike.

"Please. You have to help us!"

Simon's teeth shook slightly as the hands that held his body shook him. But the almost comical action wasn't what startled him the most. Simon, like most mortals, could not hear spirits. Only very old entities tended to know how to interact with the physical world, and by the time they learned how, all had inevitably lost the motivation to do so. And given the size of this dragon, roughly only six feet or so, it could not be much older than half a century old.

Yet the dragon had clearly just spoken to him. What made Simon's eyes truly widen was the dragon's voice. Every text he had ever read implied it was difficult, if not impossible, to determine the gender of a dragon without years of experience. Not only did this one have a woman's voice, but it almost seemed the epitome of femininity. His only conclusion was that this was a trick of some form, and not a very studied one at that.

"Please. I know you can hear us. We need help and you are not only the only person who can see me as I truly am, but the only one who might be able to help. It is what your organization is for is it not?"

Simon had a hard time as the dragon spoke to him. With a longer dialogue, not only did the voice jar, but it looked wrong. The words were English, but it was like watching a badly dubbed foreign movie. They clearly did not match the dragon's mouth.

Even more confusing was the thing's uncertainty when it came to pronouns.

Great, just what I need, an insane weredragon.

The thought startled Simon for a moment. The dragon stopped shaking him and simply looked expectantly, perhaps even hopefully if he read the thing's emotions properly. This could be another dragon, one which sought out his aid to help the trapped spirit, but more likely it really was the weredragon.

It would be an easy thing to identify which the situation was. Simon took a deep breath. Instincts and training all insisted that he should keep his full attention on a potentially lethal opponent. Without his other-sight he wouldn't be able to track the dragon if it was fully a spirit. That was the crux of his plan. If it was the lycanthrope then he would see it's physical form, the poor person it had been stuffed into. However, if it was a true dragon, then he would see nothing. The same instincts that insisted he shouldn't do this, trusted that the dragon meant him no harm. He hated when his instincts couldn't even agree with themselves.

With a literal blink of the eye, the world of the spirits disappeared. Before him stood a perfect explanation for the very feminine voice of the dragon. Simon judged the woman to be almost half a foot shorter than he was, although it was hard to gauge as she stood over him and leaned forward to hold his arms. The position also thrusts the woman's small breasts close to his face. He was fairly certain the dragon hadn't thought of that tactic. It probably didn't even realize how distracting it could be, given that most spirits minds were truly alien from the human perspective.

Simon didn't find it very difficult to shift his attention and take in the entire image of the woman. Long blond hair caught at her shoulders before it spilled down to frame her face. The sports bra and tight, cotton, short-shorts certainly explained why he had assumed she was merely a jogger. They also revealed a very athletic body and excessive amounts of skin. His gaze traveled back up to the soft pink lips and expressive light blue eyes that shared the impression the dragon had given. All of her... its... their hopes rode on him.

Simon's heart soared for a moment. A woman stood before him, very attractive and clearly dressed to display her assets, and all he could think were professional thoughts. Kali maintained a sole position in his personal interests.

After another deep breath, Simon addressed the two.

"Please, sit and tell me what happened. By all rights I should destroy you on sight, but I sense that there is much more here than meets the eye." The woman nodded, let go of Simon and collapsed to sit sideways on the bench. "I'm Agent Pie. What should I call you?"

"I'm..." The woman started to answer but then paused in confusion. Simon definitely understood that. He had never heard of a lycanthrope comprised of two sentient beings. Would they choose one of their names to identify themselves, an amalgam of their names, or perhaps an alias? Their answer might be very telling. The woman sighed heavily and her blue eyes looked up to meet his. "My human half is Sascha, and since neither you nor she could pronounce my real name it seems best to stick with that."

Simon nodded. At the very least the dragon was capable of accessing the woman's memories.

"Perhaps you could answer a question that has haunted Agents and hunters alike for centuries. Is she still in there?"

Sascha's head cocked to one side. She/they responded in that soft, mezzo-soprano, voice. "I don't understand. We sit before you."

Her confusion was clear. Simon realized that spirits might not dwell much on the nature of lycanthropes. It was also possible they already held much more knowledge of the circumstances than the corporeal races did. The problem was that animal spirits reacted rather than thought. When they possessed someone, they completely subsumed their victim's spirit. The cursed person never remembered what had happened to them.

"Am I to infer that you have more than merely Sascha's memories? That Sascha shares the body with you?"

"Of course! Therein lies our problem. The problem with which we need your help."

Simon was tempted to shift back into his other-sight, or perhaps an blend of the spirit and physical worlds, but he knew he would find it more disconcerting. At the moment, the image before him, as Sascha curled her feet under her and sat sideways on the bench, matched the sense of security and trust that he sensed from them. To see the dragon, even overlapped on her features might trouble him unnecessarily.

"Okay. I would love to be able to discuss this further at some point. We honestly don't know as much as we would like about lycanthropy. However I think I should at least hear of your troubles. Then we can see what we can do about them. But first, I should warn you that you are wanted for multiple murders."

Sascha nodded through his suggestions until he brought up the crimes that she, or at least the dragon, had committed.

"I have killed no one. I refused to be party to violence. That was my contract with the Sorcerer."

Simon nodded. He suspected the part about the contract was true. Dragons had no reason to seek out violence. Despite the more modern demonization of their race, many ancient accounts held them as pacifists. However, Simon always read between the lines to assume it meant they really couldn't bring themselves to care about corporeal matters.

"The untimely deaths were the results of the actions of the Sorcerer. He killed them as part of a ritual designed to regain control of a Demon. He could not have known it would be impossible in the manner he supposed."

"Sascha, I've seen the bodies. Unless your Master is capable of inhuman feats of strength and transformations, the murders had to be your fault."

Sascha's head shifted until it was cocked the other direction. "He is a sorcerer. He is capable of anything given the proper understanding and formula, and sufficient power. However, I suspect he lacks all three of these things for the effects you propose." Then, her tone turned indignant. "And he is not my master."

Simon held up his hands in a conciliatory manner.

"I apologize for the misinterpretation. But the fact still remains that there have been four murders where the victim has been torn apart. Marks were found which, at the very least, would match your talons."

Sascha sighed heavily. "Yes. And that is part of why we need your help."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was this lunch or dinner? Kali wasn't entirely sure as she stared at the plate. She didn't remember feeling tired, but suddenly she woke up to find a tray of food by the door. When she retrieved it she noticed a full set of silverware, which surprised her. The knife she had been provided was actually rather sharp.

Now she sat cross-legged on her cot and stared at the meal. Curious of the aroma that wafted from the tray, she lifted the cover. Some form of marinated chicken breast, mashed potatoes and steamed carrots and peas were artfully arranged on the plate before her. The whole setting reminded her of something that would have been provided by room service at Simon's hotel. There was even a silver set of salt and pepper shakers. After a quick sample of the mashed potatoes, she used both.

"You know, in some cultures, providing a meal that has salt as an ingredient was a binding contract of honor. If the guest ate it, it meant both that he intended no harm to his patron, and was guaranteed safety in return. For either to forfeit their word was an egregious breach of honor. Often punishable by the gods."

Kali froze, fork halfway to her mouth. She wasn't the slightest surprised that the Sorcerer watched her. What concerned her was the possibility that something has been done to the food. Or perhaps it was that she hadn't even considered that it might be poisoned. Of course, if the Sorcerer intended to hurt her, there would have been plenty of opportunities while she slept.

She put the fork down, uneaten, and decided to try to understand her captor better. "Do you come from such a society?"

There was a pause of silence. Kali wondered if she had been taken somewhere far from the Sorcerer. The pause could readily be explained by the communication lag on many standard transmission methods.

"No, I do not. Nor, do I suspect, do you. I merely wished to relate a bit of trivia regarding your actions." When she lifted the fork to her mouth and ate the first bite, the Sorcerer continued. "Would it have mattered to you? Do you mean me harm enough that you would have chosen not to eat rather than offend my sense of honor?"

Kali continued to chew, and the swallow, in order to give herself a moment to think about her response. When she was ready, she looked up into a random corner of the room. She was sure there was at least one camera up there somewhere, so at least it signified that she spoke to her captor. "You hold me captive and ask about my intent? It is a prisoner's first duty to try to escape. Who said that, Rambo?"

"Tsun Tsu more likely. But I truly don't know. Would it help our working relationship if you felt less like a captive and more like a guest?"

Kali stared incredulously at her point on the ceiling. Was the voice trying to mock her? She had been kidnapped, and held against her will in a locked room for who knew how long. Now they were supposed to build a 'working relationship?' The only thing she could think to say was to admit the bare truth.

"Yeah, it would certainly be a start!"

"Try the door once more." Kali couldn't help but glance at the door. "I am very serious. It has not been locked since the first time you tried it." She swung her legs back over the edge of the cot and moved to the door. She stared as the knob turned in her hand. "Please, bring the tray and we may eat in the dinning room."

The door opened as easily as the knob suggested. Now cautious to the point of paranoia, Kali kicked off a shoe and used it to prop the door open as she retrieved the meal. She slipped her shoe back on and left the room.

The corridor beyond was extremely opulent. Once more she wondered if the Sorcerer had the audacity to hold her captive in a hotel. With evenly spaced doors on either side of the hall, she expected that at one time it had been a hotel, but now was were the Sorcerer lived, or perhaps simply operated from.

Kali found herself about halfway along the hall, and was forced to guess the direction she needed to go. Of course any helpful signs that pointed out the way to the elevators, or even main lobby, had been removed along with the numbers on the doors. She tried one at random only to discover it too was locked, as was the second she tried. She gave up and continued down the corridor. Either she would find the elevators, or the dinning room. Either way she could improvise.

Farther down the hall, Kali spotted the light from an open door. Compared to the dim light from her room, or the sconces along the hallway, the intensity was downright blinding. Her free arm shaded her eyes as she turned in to the room. The light came from the full length, floor to ceiling, windows that made up the entire opposite wall. She judged, by the level of light outside, that it was early afternoon at the latest. Either she had been unconscious for more than a day, or she had barely been out at all.

A long table ran parallel to that bank of glass. A pure white tablecloth spread over it, with a silver candelabra placed every few feet down the entire length of the table. Beyond the unlit light fixtures, the table was bare.

"Please, sit anywhere." The tenor voice drew her eye. Only conscious effort kept Kali's jaw from dropping open. The man before her simply couldn't be the Sorcerer. She wasn't sure what she had expected him to look like, or even if she had expected a man at all. Perhaps a business suit, or thaumaturgical robes.

Kali never would have expected something of a cross between Christian Slater and Keanu Reaves out of a skateboarding movie from the eighties. His light brown hair was almost buzzed on the sides and only a couple inches on top that swept artfully across his face. Brilliant green eyes sparkled at her. His feet were kicked up to rest on the edge of the table and reveal tennis shoes and cargo shorts. The only thing that she had expected was the expensive, button-up shirt. However, even that remained inconsistent since he wore it buttoned only halfway up to reveal a completely hairless, and well sculpted, chest.

Kali got over her shock rather quickly and looked around the table. She had plenty of choice as to where to sit, but the decision would set the tone for this meeting, even if it was supposed to be lunch more than a professional meal. In the end she moved around him to sit at a chair on his left. The single chair between them indicated a not quite intimate discussion, but also remained close enough that she showed trust in him. By placing herself on the side of the table by the windows, and away from the door, she hoped to demonstrate further trust in his intentions.

The Sorcerer dropped his feet to the ground and smiled as she pulled the cover off of her lunch and picked up the utensils. The smile suited him and brightened his face. He was attractive, despite his dubious taste in style. Then again, he appeared to be in his mid thirties, which would mean the look had birthed in his youth, perhaps even teen years, and could be forgiven.

Most of all, she realized she was staring at him far more than he was at her. She was used to men's stares, either surreptitious or blatant, as they coveted her body. It felt odd that he didn't even seem to notice. Of course, he'd had plenty of time to check her out. Even if it was only early-afternoon that still meant he probably had held her for a few hours now.

"It might be hard to discuss anything if you do not have a name by which you may refer to me. In that spirit, please call me Armageddon. I know, it seems rather drastic, but it has served me well as an internet handle for many years." Kali began to eat as Armageddon leaned forward to speak, his hands clasped before him on the edge of the table where his feet had been moments before.

"First and foremost, let me apologize for the situation with Tral'zla'thor. When I used my magic to weaken the wards that bound him, I never anticipated an innocent would be around as a complication. To my understanding, the young men only intended a single sacrifice. In truth that was all they needed for their ritual. I did not expect they had more nefarious thoughts in mind for a second young woman."

Kali had to pause in the middle of her meal. "And how exactly did you know that I was in the park with them?"

Armageddon's smile was soft, apologetic. Kali tried to be offended, but couldn't find it in herself to be angry. "I was in the park that night. Unfortunately I was not there in person, merely through an astral projection, so I was unable to do anything to stop the attack. I had already weakened the wards in anticipation of their arrival and intended to summon it myself the moment it finished dispensing justice to those men."

Kali nodded slowly. "If you meant to summon it yourself, why did you loosen its bonds somewhere else first?"

The man actually blushed! "Actually, my intentions were threefold. First was the threat the men represented. Their fraternity has held the summoning ritual for many years. I stole the ritual from them and that was the most certain method to ensure that none who may have memorized the process survived."

"The second reason, I must admit, remains even more self-serving than the first. Each one of those men was fully indebted to the demon, and each death, each of their souls, fed Tral'zla'thor's power. This meant that it would be much stronger when I summoned it."

"But for the third reason, you must understand something. These were very perverse and detestable men. The things that they demanded of the demon not only stole the freedom of choice from their victims, but brought those same victims at least partially under the demon's possession as well. Their death, by the demon's hands, was nothing more than appropriate justice."

Armageddon had been completely honest with Kali about his motivations. She didn't need any powers, or even the demonic memories to understand this. He wasn't a saint, that was clear, but he certainly didn't seem evil. Even as she opened to ask him about the second demon and the murders, he held up a hand and continued.

"I'm sure your next concern will be for the series of murders. I must be completely honest with you. Every single one of those poor people were already dead before my dragon tore them apart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon couldn't believe what she had told him. Sascha sat in the passenger seat as he tried to maneuver through the mid-day traffic. He didn't know if what she suggested was even possible. But, he supposed, if it was then a Sorcerer was the one who could accomplish it. When he wrote the full report for this case, the PIA would need to create three brand new files; one for weredragons, one for absorbed demons, and one for nature spirits animating human corpses.

The later two were so novel that there weren't even terms for them. Neither showed up in mythology to the best of Simon's knowledge. That meant that he, as the agent who first recorded their existence, had the privilege to name them. He honestly couldn't think of a term for the nature-zombie that he liked, so he would probably leave that for the researchers. He cared too much, however, about Kali, to let anyone else come up with a term for her condition. While there were researchers he trusted to create a suitable term, there were those who most certainly would not. Kali would not be known as a 'demon-vamp' or some other similarly insulting term simply because he couldn't predict which researcher would pick up his case.

Simon shook his head to clear the portion of his concentration that was supposed to assess the current situation. None of the supposed victims had died of dismemberment. If Sascha told the truth, they had been corpses before the Sorcerer stuffed the dragon into them. When the magic that bound them to the bodies began to slip, likely when he tried to re-summon the demon, it was forced to rip its way free of the cumbersome prisons. The damage it did astrally translated into the physical.

Unfortunately for both Sascha and the dragon, this time the Sorcerer used a live human for the dragon's prison. It could not escape without causing the death of Sascha, an occurrence that it wanted to avoid. The dragon understood its own immortality. Eventually Sascha would die and it would be free. Any other species might lose their patience long before that could happen, but dragons were much more pragmatic. This was simply a chance to experience life as a corporeal being. Assuming, of course, that Simon couldn't help Sascha be free of it.

He didn't know of any way to separate the two, and had told them that. Then again, he wasn't the most knowledgeable in matters relating to spirits. As a field agent, he tended to focus more on the corporeal or the spiritual, but rarely on the strange circumstances which caused the two to blend. In the rare occasions which they merged, he usually acted purely as defensive backup for a much more qualified researcher. If there was a way, the PIA might know of it.

Of course, if a dragon did not have knowledge of a method to separate the two, without the destruction of one or the other, then it might not exist. Simon wasn't entirely disheartened by the thought however. The other race that might have answers was the Sidhe. Once upon a time they had been equally of both worlds, and even though they were predominately corporeal beings these days, their lore might include spells or procedures to separate the two. And although the Sidhe and PIA were on neutral terms, at best, he had a few contacts among the secretive race.

Sascha sat in the passenger seat and gripped the dashboard with white knuckles. Simon really needed to figure out how to think of the two. Should he think she, after the host body, or they? With most lycanthropes it didn't really matter. They were regarded as the host body, but that was because the spirit within was usually too far gone to even remember it had a gender, if it did to begin with. Not all spirits did. And even the ones that did had been reduced to pure rage by the time they were discovered and needed to be destroyed.

Simon swerved around a few cars. "How would you like me to call you. I mean, I understand about your names, but should I refer to you as two entities or one?"

Her head turned to regard him. Sascha's calm expression was a stark conflict with the tense hands. It was as if the dragon controlled her face while the woman controlled the rest of her body. Or perhaps, given the spirit's lack of experience with automotive travel, it was the other way around.

"It's strange. Somehow it's as though we're both in here. There's certainly two different personalities here but it's kind of hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. Kinda like different sides for different purposes. Each of us sees our own world and understands it, but are fascinated with the other's world. The newness each sees is exciting to the other. Like watching a child view the world for the first time." She laughed lightly. "I can't wait to see how she reacts to work. Like bring your kid to work day."

Well, that explained which of the two was terrified. Simon found it amusing that a probably-multi-millennium old dragon was afraid of a little inner city, midday, traffic. Then he realized Sascha had provided him with another interesting fact. "So the dragon is female as well? I don't mean to sound ignorant, but it's very difficult for all but the most experienced Mystics to tell the difference."

Once again Sascha laughed. "So she tells me. I'll be honest, she's in here and I can't tell the difference. It's kind of strange. They have gender but it's much less important a distinction than for real people, excuse me, corporeal beings. Fortunately, that means they also get less offended when we can't tell the difference." She added a wink to the last part.

Simon finally found parking not too far from their destination and pulled in. Sascha had delivered the most chilling news last, news that had prompted the very quick flight across the city. In the guise of the most recent 'victim,' the Sorcerer had instructed the dragon to approach Kali as a policeman. He then drugged her and brought her to the Sorcerer with the promise of freedom from the Sorcerer's control. Well, in one respect the bargain had been met. Within the body of a live mortal, the dragon could no longer be summoned or controlled by the Sorcerer.

He stopped before the building and turned a startled look at Sascha. She had agreed to lead him to the Sorcerer's residence, but explained that she was honor-bound not to take any action, physical or supernatural, against the true monster. However, that oath had not restrained her from leading Simon to him for justice. Now he found it difficult to believe she had led him straight.

The Sorcerer lived in a upscale hotel in the heart of the city. The location of the final 'attack' made much more sense in light of its proximity to the building. Only a block away the dragon had attempted to make good its freedom, only to be caught and forced into another body, this one alive.

"He lives on the sixth floor." Sascha's eyes flickered slightly in a manner that Simon had learned meant she and the dragon held unheard conversations. "Apparently he owns the business. It flourishes to provide a decent income, but more important is the protection it offers him. The main elevators surreptitiously skip his floor, and those above are mislabeled accordingly. There are separate elevators to the roof and his floor, both designed with the subterfuge that his floor resides highest."

Simon didn't need to ask how she knew. While such primitive methods could fool basic investigation, a simple astral projection would reveal the truth, as the spirit rose through floors to discover the actual placement of the residence. It served to support his suspicion that the Sorcerer maintained other, less legal, enterprises. These were precautions designed to protect him from a commando raid, such as would be staged by legal authorities.

As he walked into the main lobby of the hotel, he realized that Lieutenant Michaels would be very interested to know the full scope of the criminal behind the murders. He would, of course, fully inform the lieutenant of the perpetrator. He would also explain the method of neutralization, if he could. Simon couldn't afford to admit to what amounted to murder. Then again, if it came to that level of threat, it would be far more likely to be justifiable through self defense.

The tricky part would be to explain the weredragon's role in all of this. He began to formulate plans for that eventuality, even as Sascha plugged the key into the exclusive elevator. Simon had decided that a modification of the truth would be the best bet. The Sorcerer had killed the people and left it to her to dispose of the bodies. Unable to directly oppose the Sorcerer's will, Sascha had done so in a relatively public location in order to attract the attention of the authorities, and indirectly the PIA.

The doors chimed open and Simon strode down the hall. He drew his pistol and held it by his side as he walked. It was a comfort if nothing else. A number of supernatural creatures would be completely unaffected by the gun, but the Sorcerer was mortal. Even though extremely powerful, there would be little he could do to stop a bullet.

Simon's other hand tried the doors as he passed. He wasn't surprised to discover most locked. Those that opened, he quickly scanned with both mortal and other-sight simultaneously. He could have projected himself throughout the level, but that would certainly have triggered any mystical alarms. Likely their presence had been noted already, but there remained the slight possibility of the element of surprise.

Unfortunate, the surprise was Simon's. As the next door opened, his first sight was a very familiar, black-haired, beauty. Kali looked up from her meal and her eyes sparkled to see him. A moment later the joy turned to anger and jealousy as Sascha slipped into the room behind him.

"Ah, my faithful pet, I see you have delivered the good agent as promised."

Copyright June 2007, by Deathlynx