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Ultimate Line

By: Erosa007



Baron eyed the blazing sign of the local red neck bar. This was a perfect night to experiment or die. The sky was clear with brisk temperatures and intermittent wind.

Swallowing his rising fear, he braced his shoulders while his fingers clenched around the small device in the palm of his hand. The faint vibration from the gadget warmed his palm and eased his mind. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he waited a second longer before moving. One step, then another, brought him closer to his goal.

A strong wind whipped around the corner, sending his cap flying toward the street. Long strands of mousy brown hair whipped wildly around his head. Patrons eager to escape the change in weather flowed around him as if he were a stone in the midst of a stream.

Interesting.

Grabbing the flapping panels of his jean jacket closer, he searched the parking lot. Senses on alert, he wondered if Adrian, a vampire hunter, and Lukian's accounts of the device were accurate. 

They claimed the device blocked the presence of vampires. Was such a thing possible? Could he walk into the lion's den undetected? What if they'd built a counter device similar to the one he worked on? Could they ferret out his presence?

A tremor shot through his slight frame that had nothing to do with the elements and everything to do with his capture at the hands of his enemies.

Pulling the hood over his mop of long straight hair, indecision warred with his need to know if the device worked. He kicked a stone and watched it skip a few feet ahead. It stopped at the bottom step to the club, next to a pair of scuffed dark brown cowboy boots. An unfamiliar tingling raced through his system. Like a deer caught in headlights, he froze.

Hunter. 

His stomach clenched. Suddenly absent of fluid, his mouth dried as the Hunter's gaze swept the parking lot. He'd swear an eerie light flashed from the giant's eyes, searing through everything in its path.

A metallic taste hit the back of Baron's throat as wintry cold gray eyes passed over him. The warm plastic in his palm pulsed. He released a swoosh of air as his natural enemy turned and walked through the heavy door.

To say he fully understood the risks of this experiment and its possible outcome was just proved untrue. What was he thinking coming to a hangout for vampire hunters? 

It'd been years since he'd been in the presence of one of those killers. He had no idea they grew as tall and large as tree trunks. 

No wonder Lukian, Leader of the Sentinels, was on edge. Hunters mirrored the speed, strength, and agility of Lukian's league of warriors. A simple vampire scientist like him, with no fighting skills, wouldn't rate as an appetizer to the mammoth who had just entered the bar.

On shaky legs, he inched backward a few steps. Mindful of the loud thumps from his chest, his gaze remained on the door until he reached the shadows of the parking area. 

Exhaling a breath he'd been unaware he held, he turned and headed for his car. It was a quirk of his, to blend in the human world as thoroughly as possible to further his scientific research. Driving helped him achieve that goal. Besides, he enjoyed the feel of the supple leather seats and the ability to shape the atmosphere within the confines of the vehicle. 

For a small man like himself, small comforts rated high on his list.

Romance novels and Hollywood had done his people a tremendous favor. Everyone thought vampires were these tall and handsomely compelling creatures. If that were the case, they'd stick out as cannon fodder for the Hunters. It was times like these Baron appreciated his nondescript appearance. 

Average height, average weight, brown eyes and hair, and glasses that he didn't need, helped him blend in. People rarely gave him a second glance, which suited him fine.

Night sounds, music, and human conversation flew across his ears and mind as he neared his car. The dark husky scent of one voice stopped his forward momentum. Like a sieve, his ears filtered and rejected ever other sound until it zeroed in on the melodic cadence that held him enthralled. 

Without thinking, he listened, eager to hear another syllable of the sound that touched off a spark inside him while moving closer to its location.

"Brina, I thought you were going to meet me here tonight," the voice said. He tried to identify the emotion behind the words, but having so little interaction with humans he remained clueless as he continued to listen.

"Yeah, like going out on a weeknight is something I do on a regular basis. I had to get a sitter and everything." Anger, but not true anger. There was no bite, no fire to the words from the woman as she spoke to someone on her phone.

Baron squeezed the device in his hand as an extra measure and walked closer to the car where the voice emanated from. The driver's door stood open. One bronzed, long, bare leg tapped impatiently on the ground. A splash of fabric covered a small portion of her well-toned thigh. The rest of her body lounged in the shadow of the car. Red polish gleamed from five tapered toes flashing from some sort of strapped heel. 

If anyone had asked him before tonight if he had a thing for shoes or feet, he would have said, "Not even." However, the sight of her finely sculpted leg in high heels with red toenails just became a thing for him.

Grateful she couldn't detect him, he breathed deeply. The smell of peaches greeted his flaring nostrils, the scent teased his tongue, and for the first time in years, he hungered for something other than science.

"Heaven," he whispered, not ashamed to enjoy the fruits of his trespass. He stood beside her trunk, getting high off the sound of her voice and drinking in the sight of her leg. Who said the finer things in life weren't free?

****

Brushing past a woman and her small son, Simone rushed through the door before the closed sign appeared. She had been violently ill for the last week and was behind in her work. Her doctor claimed she had a 48-hour stomach virus. 

Obviously, that was code for "we don't know what it is, so take these pills, they'll kill anything." There was nothing to do but rest and take the antibiotics. Even though she still felt a little off, she had to take a pill and keep going. The mortgage company wasn't interested in her health crisis. Bills had to be paid and her business required her attention. Looking back to make sure she hadn't dropped any of her files, she slammed into someone standing on the other side of the door.

" Oooph," she yelped as her arm and folders flew up. In an awkward attempt to catch herself, she grabbed hold of the nearest thing. Unfortunately, that happened to be someone's arm. Before she could yell out, a hand broke her fall, saving her from a hard fall onto the concrete floor that was now decorated with her research paperwork.

"Damn," she muttered, looking at the mess before she realized her rescuer still held her arm.

"Thank you," she added. Without looking at him, she bent to pick up her documents. It was useless to put them back in any type of order right now, so she shoved them into the files. Moments later, he surprised her by assisting her collect the papers from off the floor.

"I shoulda planned this better," she muttered, throwing papers into folders. "Allowed more time. But one thing happened after the other, and now I'm late." To make matters worse I'm talking aloud. Heat climbed up her neck and jaw as she offered a smile to her rescuer.

Standing, she realized they were close in height and he was cute in a down home kind of way. His brown hair was much longer than she usually liked, but it looked soft. Gold flecks dotted his brown eyes, and in the bright lighting they appeared to sparkle. She glanced at his firm lips. They were moving.

Simone groaned her embarrassment. She'd been checking him out while he'd been talking. Thank God, Brina and Tressie weren't here, they would never let her live it down. They'd swear they were right in saying she needed a man in the worse way.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his tone curious. But what captured her attention was his accent. She tried to place it. She'd always had a thing for sounds, and cataloged faces by their sounds and scents. His voice reminded her of smoke and woods, sending a tingle to the midst of her belly. Caught up in her musings, she failed to see him move closer.

"Miss, I asked if everything was all right." His voice turned impatient, cold. 

She shivered as he watched her through lowered lids. 

Startled out of her reverie, she rushed to assure him. "What? Oh yeah, thanks. I, uh, was thinking about all the work of putting these files back together. That's all." Unable to believe her reaction to him, she offered a smile and watched him from the corner of her eye. Maybe it was the accent, but her opinion of him changed. Now he looked downright handsome. He wore brown corduroy pants and a brown tee. Nothing fancy, yet she was drawn closer. Inching forward, she breathed deeply.

He stepped back, mouth agape. A frown marred his face as he glared at her. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked in clipped tones.

The sound of his accent, deepened by his emotions, sent a giddy thrill through her. As his words penetrated, her face warmed as mortification set in. What was wrong with her? "Sorry about that. You sound familiar and I was trying to place your voice."

His right eyebrow arched. "By smelling me?"

Simone's cheeks burned. The condescension in his voice jerked her out of her trance and fueled her anger. There was no need for him to talk to her like that, she hadn't done anything wrong. Remembering she'd ran into him just a few minutes earlier, she amended her thought. She hadn't done anything wrong intentionally. Looking around to see if anyone had overheard his remark, she stood straight, placing the papers in the forgotten folder.

"Yeah, by smelling you," she said in an unrepentant tone. "Sorry if I offended you." Tossing her head back, she turned on her heel and strutted off.

"What the hell..." Baron caught himself as a young teen-aged boy walked by, smiling. Simone must've heard him since she laughed from where she stood waiting for the elevator.

Baron was intrigued. He'd just bumped into the rest of the body of the leg he'd admired last week at the bar. The moment she'd touched him, her intoxicating scent had slammed into his mind and ricocheted to his libido.

For a moment, so enmeshed in memory, he'd lost his train of thought until her lush body toppled toward the floor. At the last minute, he regained control of his body and saved her from hitting the concrete. Guilt over taking liberties in the parking lot the previous week, and now in the bookstore, sent him to his knees to assist the lovely woman in retrieving her papers. Shock, and another emotion he refused to acknowledge, reverberated through him when he caught her staring at him.

No one stared at him. He prided himself on being invisible.

Unable to resist, he'd peeked into her mind to discover her true motives. She liked his voice, thought it was familiar. He frowned at that. Then he ran into a blank wall, she'd shut him out. Like a television in the midst of a lightning storm, her thoughts dropped. Before he could reel in his shock at her ability to shut him out, she'd smelled him. Inhaling his essence just as he'd inhaled her scent the other night. Except, he felt as though she'd taken a part of him into herself. He had no idea why that thought lightened a tiny corner of his heart.

To stop her intrusion, he gave one of his famous cutting remarks. She appeared unperturbed and had the audacity to laugh at him, dismiss him. Had he been too busy in his lab? Had things changed that much that his kind could no longer read the minds of humans? A chilling thought flashed across his mind. What if there was a new device that prevented his kind from accessing the minds of humans? If so, how were they to know who would be best for blood donations in emergency situations? How would his kind in remote areas feed?

She appeared human. He hadn't sensed an unearthly aura, yet she'd effectively blocked him. Not a good sign, since his psychic abilities were among the strongest of the vampires. The scientist in him demanded to know more. To study the woman who appeared to be an anomaly. The vampire male in him demanded caution. A warning blared in the back of his mind even as he acknowledged she aroused him in ways he hadn't experienced in years. The scientist won. A barrage of questions surfaced as he moved quickly to catch her at the elevators.

Chapter 2

Simone sensed the snooty guy the moment he passed the elevator. If she didn't have such a backlog of appraisal work on her desk, she might have flirted a bit. He was kinda cute and she had no one in her life at the moment. She'd barely made it in the door of the bookstore before closing, she needed to pick up the reference materials that arrived earlier that day. Now she regretted the decision to bring the files with her to make some quick comparisons of the older architectural structures she'd inspected.

Armed with her research, she left the bookstore, and a few minutes later entered the coffee shop on the corner. Intent on completing her work, the ringing of her phone startled her to the point she almost dropped her files and books again.

Glancing at the number, she rolled her eyes. For a moment she debated whether or not to answer. But if she didn't, he'd just call again and again. "Simone Locklear." Deliberately, she infused boredom and disdain in her voice. Not that he hadn't received worst from her, he had. When it came to Javier Chavez, she never bit her tongue when it came to her feelings about him. She couldn't stand the man. He was worse than dung. Lower than scum.

There was no greeting, she didn't expect one. He got to the point. "Don't forget I'll be picking up Marissa tomorrow at six o'clock."

Marissa. The only reason she still dealt with this douche bag. Her niece was all she had left from her twin sister, Sharita. After the death of her sister, he had harassed her through the courts for visitation privileges with his daughter. Much to everyone's surprise, he'd won. Money could buy the best lawyers, and he'd paid big time. She still didn't understand why. He'd barely paid Marissa any attention while his girlfriend, Sharita, was alive. Now he tried to be daddy of the year. Tomorrow would make the tenth time they would spend unsupervised time alone.

Damned if she hadn't kept count. Sharita had shared horrible stories of his drinking, drug use, and abusive behavior. In her opinion, Javier was nothing more than a thug in a suit. Unfortunately, he had no criminal record and the courts weren't interested in her opinions.

"Got it on my calendar lil' man," she needled, just to remind him of her opinion of him.

"I got your lil man, bitch! Make sure she's ready. I know she's itching to escape that shit-hole you call a house and get some air." He immediately disconnected before hearing her comeback to his dig on her modest home.

"Gotcha." She smiled, delighted. She'd caused him to lose his cool. "Ah, the smaller pleasures in life are meant to be savored." Despite his unasked-for opinion of her humble three-bedroom home, it was her personal haven. It belonged solely to her, purchased with money she'd earned. In a way it was her badge of honor. No one thought she'd escape the cloud of her youth and make something of herself, but she'd proven them wrong. Shaking off thoughts of him and her youth, she collapsed on a chair and began her research.

****

Baron and Rauff, his business partner, stood outside a coffee shop on Tryon Street in the heart of Charlotte. The night was clear and the weather comfortable.

"You've got to be shitting me, mate." Rauff snickered. "You want me to attempt to read that gorgeous brown creature sitting in the back of the shop. Why would I do that?"

Baron ignored Rauff's impatient gaze. "Black."

"Hmmm? What do you mean black?" Rauff asked, while brushing something off his jacket.

"I've been told the correct term is black creature, not brown." Lukian had been tutoring him on the proper protocols, racial variances of humans, and their history.

"She's not black, Baron. You can plainly see she's more of a café au lait or caramel color, delicious looking actually. You really need to get your eyes checked, old boy. You've been in hiding too long." There was a smug undertone in his voice that Baron ignored.

His attention stayed on the female sitting at the back of the café. "I was referring to her ethnicity. She is Black or African American. That's all I meant. I was not referring to the actual color of her skin."

"Whatever. I don't involve myself with the latest fads. Regardless, she's still human." Rauff's tone was dismissive as he moved slightly to the side, looking up the street to watch people weave in and out on the sidewalk.

Baron recognized the signs. Rauff wasn't interested in much that did not directly benefit him. If Baron wanted to discover the truth about the woman, he would have to do something to entice Rauff to go inside.

They stood in front of the coffee shop a few minutes longer. Never one to allow a problem to simmer long, Baron's curiosity drove him to discover if her ability to block thoughts was unique to him. Could Rauff penetrate her shields? Although the male in him hated the idea of Rauff trying, the scientist needed to know. Sighing deeply, he looked at Rauff and explained what happened earlier in the bookstore, omitting his body's reaction to her.

"So you think she can block all of us?" Disbelief was obvious in his tone, his wry grin plainly said he didn't believe him.

"I don't know."

"You don't?" His eyes widened. "You do not know?"

Baron glared at Rauff. He knew that look, one of interest, and not just in the problem at hand. 

"No, I do not." Why in the name of the Ultimate, are we partners? Rauff was a self-centered master con artist who had no problems interacting with humans, or any other beings. 

Which Baron detested. 

Rauff could charm or repel, depending on his mood. He was the face to their businesses. Both of them knew Baron was the brains. As long as Rauff didn't cheat him, he let things be.

After a quick mental shake, Baron continued. "With all the problems that Lukian and the Council have been having, this situation has me concerned." Moving to the side to allow a few patrons pass, Baron glanced at Rauff, who was focused on the couple who'd just walked by.

"You are one of the strongest telepaths we have." Rauff raised his hand, cutting Baron off. "But I know you are not going to let 'this' rest. So, for the sake of science, I'll give it a whirl."

Rauff opened the door and proceeded to the line. Baron watched to see if the human female noticed his partner. Most women of all breeds noticed him immediately when he entered a room. He fit the Hollywood stereotype of the romantic vampire: tall, dark, and studly. 

She didn't glance in Rauff's direction the entire time. Receiving his drink, Rauff walked toward the door. Still no reaction. 

Baron flushed with excitement. After all, she had noticed him and ignored Rauff. What did that mean? Was she smart or blind? He didn't know and it didn't matter. He opened the door before Rauff touched the handle.

"Well, were you able to read her?" he asked Rauff after they'd moved a short distance away.

Rauff, appearing deep in thought, spared a glance at his friend. "No, not really. Although I did not get the impression of intentional blocking like with shifters." The deadpan quality of his voice, just like his staring across the street at the foot traffic, irritated Baron. Trust Rauff not to see the importance of this discovery.

"She didn't pay you any attention." Rauff's vanity would never let that statement go unchallenged. Baron didn't have time to bargain, he needed information quickly. He sensed this information was significant, for him anyway.


Ultimate Line Ch. 02



Baron appeared in his living room. The night at the lab had been long and he'd been unable to focus. The woman intruded his thoughts at every turn. The distraction baffled him. He had no idea what to make of it. Was she a friend? An enemy? Why and how did she invade his thoughts? None of it made sense and the more he thought about it, the more his head ached. 

His head ached? 

That never happened. Nevertheless, he'd been experiencing some discomfort for the past few hours. The need to lie down pressed hard against him. Entering into the master bedroom, he pressed a series of buttons on a panel in the wall. A door appeared in the wall. Tired and irritated he walked down the stairs into his sleeping chambers. 

"I should have bypassed the stairs," he grumbled as the pain increased. Soft candlelight appeared, although he didn't need it. He had become so accustomed to blending in with humanity, sometimes he forgot to use his vampiric gifts. Instead of punching in the numbers, he waved toward the door. It locked tight. He floated to his bed and sat on the edge for a few moments wondering what was going on? 

He sent a query to Rauff. "Is all well?"

"Not now, Baron." The man grunted, sounding breathless, or as breathless as a vampire can sound. 

The pain in his head turned into a deep throb. He grabbed the sides of his head as the throb elevated into the equivalent of a vise tightening around his skull. He fell back onto the bed rolling from side to side in agony.

"Arrghh," Baron yelled as he hit the floor.

His lips tightened into a straight line across his face. Grinding teeth echoed in the room. Fast shallow breaths pumped through his quivering nostrils. His body shook as a leaf on a new twig in a gale. Muscles tightened in his jaw, snapping his mouth shut when he tried to scream. Writhing on the concrete floor, his flesh rippled and tore. Tears, mixed with blood, ran down his face as it contorted, bones shifted, reformed.

Clueless as to what was happening or why, he tried desperately to stop the agony and curled into a fetal position. Images flew beneath his closed lids. His head flopped rapidly, banging against the floor. Shuddering in denial at the last image, his head snapped back at an awkward angle. If he were human, it would've killed him.

An inhumane scream shot from his mouth as his chest and back twisted, pulling up from his lower torso. Fluids—possibly sweat—poured down his body. His back tightened and spasmed until he couldn't form a thought. Before the uttered plea to the Ultimate for assistance escaped his lips, his arms shot out. 

He begged for death.

His lower torso pulled forward while his arms and legs chaotically hit the floor in an odd rhythm. A silent to scream escaped. His throat locked tight, refusing to allow any sound of freedom. A sticky liquid coated his body, drenching him as he tried to inhale through the pain. Rolling to the side to avoid his own filth, he cried as his eyes burned in his crackling skull. He was dying, Baron was sure of it. His body had betrayed him for hours.

Death, take me, he thought.

"Awwww," he howled hoarsely as a searing sensation hit his lower chest. Shaking, head thrown back, his back arched off the floor. His legs trembled under the weight until the burning ceased. What was happening? The question ran rampant through his mind before he slumped, falling into a deep sleep as the pain finally eased.

****

Baron woke physically drained. Mentally scanning his surroundings, he sighed in relief. The shields around his home were in place, although someone had walked on his property. More information of the trespass filtered through. Odd. Humans should not have been able to see his dwelling, let alone access it. The porch thorns had pulled a sample of their blood enabling him to identify the person. 

The fact he accepted her presence on his property and didn't investigate the breach further said more about the mental and physical gymnastics he'd undergone in the past twenty-four hours than anything. His brainpower lay scattered on the floor. He had no idea, no point of reference to decipher what happened to him. He lacked the energy to examine any evidence and the will to make any determination. Simply put, exhaustion kicked his ass.

****

It was dark again. Lying still, Baron's mind went on full alert as he tried to decipher what happened earlier. Sitting on the cold floor, a putrid smell from somewhere to the right of him tormented his nostrils. He rolled to the left, surprised at the size of his hands on the floor. They were huge, like a bear's paw.

"What the fuck?" Kneeling, he noticed his head reached the top of the mattress of his high poster bed. Impossible. The height from the ground was the main reason he'd commissioned the construction of the four-poster bed. He used steps to access it every night. Twisting his neck, he stretched and stood.

"Hell," he yelled as he looked down. Somehow, he'd grown overnight. Standing in the middle of his room, he fumbled for the spectacles he kept on the side table. Not that he needed them to see. He used them as part of his wardrobe and was accustomed to putting them on every day. They didn't fit across his face. Holding them loosely in his hand, he ran to the mirrored vanity in the bathroom. His gaze slid to the extra large Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. He'd be making use of one of them soon.

Leaning forward, his breath caught at the reflection. He turned away in shock. A quick glance around the tiled room assured him he was indeed at home. Everything was as it should be... except him. Slowly he returned to the image in the glass.

"What the hell..." Reaching up, he gently touched his face. It was similar and different at the same time. The larger angular shape was familiar, but his eyes were now a lighter brown with red and gold highlights. They were more intense, as if someone dumped a hundred shades of color together to create this unique shade of brown.

Blinking, he couldn't believe the length and thickness of the lashes, and the slashing thick brows over his eyes. A slight shake to his head set a thick wavy curtain of brownish black hair with gold and light brown highlights in motion. After running his hand through it, he realized it fell down his back. He pulled a wad in his hand, rubbing the strands together. He yanked it hard and smelled it. Nothing special. Slowly, he released it.

As a man of science and vampire, he knew and agreed that there were things outside the box. However, this transformation stretched past that point. He had to see, touch and pull as well to believe. Pushing back from the sink, he studied his body. His legs were long and sculpted, as were his arms, muscles on top of muscles.

Hell, he was taller than Rauff and probably Lukian, the leader of the Sentinels. He lifted one arm, then the other. Forgetting to breathe, he completed a bicep curl. His muscles appeared to have tripled in size from just three days ago. His chest had expanded to twice its previous width, and probably matched Lukian's. 

Turning to the side, he saw ropes of muscle trailed across and down his back and arms. Left arm lifted, he bent forward in an attempt to see a new mark on his lower stomach. Grabbing a small mirror from a drawer, he looked closer. It was an ancient Valdine symbol, signifying last.

Baron's legs buckled and he hit the marble tiled floor. Last, what did it mean?

"Nooooooo," he wailed.

He couldn't be the last of his race, he thought desperately. He'd just talked to Rauff last night at the club. He opened his senses and let out a sigh of relief. No, he wasn't the last Valdine. Standing, he walked into his bedroom and lay across the bed. Breathing deeply, he opened his mind to his line, to his brethren.

No answer.

He attempted to locate his linesmen Icar and Brevar again; although he hadn't seen them in centuries. Last he heard, they resided in the East somewhere. They preferred the Eastern culture and through the years trained with priests and monks. He had thought them invincible.

Closing his eyes, he waited for a sign of life from anyone of his line. Nothing. A yawning void filled him at the realization he might be the last of his line. 

Just as the Jewish nation was split into twelve tribes, the Ultimate had divided the Valdines in the same manner after their arrival on Earth. They were promised there would always be at least one original person or one of their direct seed on the planet from each line. It appeared he was the last of his line. The thought numbed him.

After soaking in the whirlpool to ease the remaining aches, he showered, still amazed at how much more there was to him now. Feeling better, he foraged his closet and found a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt Lukian had left behind.

Dressed, he called out telepathically to Waliff for a meeting. Within moments, he stood before the Elder. Waliff's greeting area had a few scattered upholstered chairs, expressive artwork, and a desk off to the side. The marble floors gleamed with golden inlays that pointed in the direction of the meeting rooms. Baron had always thought they changed depending on the nature of the visit, but had no way of verifying his thought. Overall, it was an impressive room. One entire wall was transparent, allowing one to stare at the majesty of the mountainside behind it.

"Greetings, Claudius Baron," Waliff said from his seat behind the desk and waved to a chair nearby.

Baron offered a slight bow before walking toward the offered chair. He sat forward allowing the inspection that took place.

"Greetings, Elder Waliff, it's good to know my scent is still familiar, I was unsure if I would be recognized in this new frame. Tell me, am I the last of my line?" 

Waliff looked closely as if inspecting a valuable antique. "It appears so. I see your entire line reflected in your stare and your appearance." He steepled his fingertips beneath his chin. "I see the intelligence and patience of Council member Cull. I sense the strategic brilliance of Ian. Marias the Just winked at me. Icar and Brevar, bowed. Rhiannon, Sven, Bulgar, Halgreth, they are all there." He sighed blinking and sat back. "I saw them all plainly. You have an impressive line of healers, spellbinders, entertainers, fighters, builders, tempered with justice and wisdom."

Baron gritted his teeth. He hated not knowing. It went against his nature. That Waliff saw something that he'd missed aggravated his sensibilities. "Be specific please."

"You carry each individual in your initial line. That's probably why you are so tall, have the odd coloring of your eyes, the hair, the muscular frame." He pointed to each feature. "You've also obtained or have access to the knowledge each lineman held." Waliff tapped his lips as he stared thoughtfully. "You can probably kick ass like Brevar or move as fast as lightning like Icar."

Baron cringed at the imagery. "I abhor violence. This information does not please me at all." Despite the deep baritone of his voice, and the change of his body, he was still a scientist at heart. He planned to keep as much of himself as possible. Inwardly he groaned. Things had changed, he felt the jockeying inside, the tingles of memories that were not his, whispers of recognition.

Most of the names Waliff called out were legends amongst his people. He understood he had a responsibility to his line and needed to learn everything he could. But how to do that and maintain some semblance of who he was?

"With all the warriors, healers, diplomats and gifted ones in my line, I can't believe the last one to survive is the quiet Scientist. I've never been interested in fighting, the arts or medicine. My interest lies in discoveries, inventions, and things to assist us while we are here. I am humbled and honored by this selection," Baron said trying to reconcile what this meant for him, the changes and challenges it presented. The two men shared a quiet moment.

"We weren't sure how the Ultimate would accomplish such a feat. As usual, His ways are perfect. You are the walking embodiment of your entire line, and as you procreate we, as a people, live on." Pausing, he peered at Baron, "I trust the transformation was not too difficult."

Pushing back the painful memories he answered. "Hmmm, let's just say I never want to go through that again. It took three days and while I was in the midst of it, a human breached my security and knocked on my door." He'd been meaning to discuss the strange occurrence in the bookstore two weeks ago with Waliff and hadn't had the opportunity.

"Ah... explain please," Waliff requested and sat back in his chair, fingertips once again steepled beneath his chin.

"Let me start at the beginning, it may make more sense to you." He explained the initial meeting in the parking lot. Then the bookstore and the subsequent experiment on the sidewalk of the coffee shop. He explained he'd been following her from time to time to make sure she wasn't connected to the Hunters or the rebellion. Nodding his understanding, Waliff seemed surprised but didn't interrupt.

He waved at his body. "When I resurfaced into this, I noticed my security had been breached, which has never happened. The smell is the same as the human female from the bookstore a month ago."

Noticing Waliff had gone completely still, Baron leaned forward to make his point. "How could she see my resting place? Granted it's a house, but with all the electronic equipment and wards, it's not visible to the naked eye of any creature. She knocked on the wooden entry, how is that possible?"

"Was it deliberate? Was she looking for you?"

Baron paused in thought. "I don't think so. I got the sense she didn't realize the significance of what happened." Leaning back into the chair he attempted to get comfortable, wrestling with the long arms for a moment. Miffed, he settled them across his lap and resumed his speech. "Is this something that's common amongst our people? I mean I rarely socialize with anyone, especially humans, so I may be behind on some things."

"You said she paid Rauff no attention?" At his nod, Waliff frowned. "Hmmm, that's unusual; however, I confess I have not heard of such a thing. No, it is not just you. Tell me, were you attracted to her?"

"Attracted?" Tilting his head, he paused to think. "Attracted, yes. However, I believe intrigued to be a better word. Yes, that's it. It's not often I observe someone so different." He crossed and uncrossed the long legs in front of him. Aggravated, he stood and paced in front of the desk.

"This is ridiculous! I feel as though I need to relearn walking and moving. I'm this freakish giant with all this... this hair!" He stopped in front of the desk pulling a section of the thick mass. "My life has been quiet, unobtrusive. No one noticed me or paid me any attention. I had peace and quiet to gather data and conduct my experiments. Now, at over six and a half feet, with wild hair whipping around my shoulders, I stand out like a monster amongst lambs. I don't like it."

Waliff stared up at him, seemingly dazed at the ranting and transformation. "You have always been one of the most laid back Valdines in existence. No question about it, your temperament has certainly changed, you've picked up some of your line mates aggression. You resemble a warrior of old." 

"Great, just great. Those were wicked days when men settled their differences quickly and without a lot of talk." Arms folded, Baron glared at Waliff from across the room. Admittedly, he felt better having his situation confirmed, but he needed advice on how to proceed as the last of his line.

"Happy?" he smiled as the older man's eyes refocused on him.

"Quite, what about you?" Waliff asked.

Sighing, he returned to his chair and eased into the seat. "What's expected of me as the last of my line, Waliff?" Worry threaded through the tone in his voice. "I mean besides stud service. I understand the procreation part."

He shrugged. "You are the first to ever reach this change. I'm not sure. However, there are some practical matters that we can attend to." Reaching over he picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers.

He spoke into the receiver. "I have a unique situation that requires your personal expertise. Can you make time within the next few minutes?" He paused, listening.

"We'll be there in a minute or two, side entrance. Have it cleared." He paused. "Thanks." Hanging up, he gestured for Baron to stand and follow him. The two walked toward the veranda and disappeared.

They reappeared in front of a red wooden door. After a momentary scan, it opened, and they entered. The hall opened into a sizable waiting area with large comfortable leather chairs, magazines on tables and a game area for small children. A muted television sat in the corner broadcasting news of the day. Waliff moved toward a perfectly coiffed, young woman. Latina, if Baron had to guess. Her smile made it apparent she knew Waliff, even as she looked Baron up and down.

"She's expecting you, Sir. Please go right in." She pointed toward a closed door while winking at Baron.

Waliff nodded his thanks as they walked forward, opened the door, and sealed it. Selma Ackland raised her brow at the sealing of the door. Her gaze slid to Baron. Her mouth dropped, and her eyes widened. The pen dropped as her hand covered her mouth. Her face tightened, as it leached color.

"Ian," she murmured. Turning toward Waliff, she rose slowly to meet him and his guest.

"No, Selma not Ian," Waliff rushed to explain. "Baron is the last of his line, which appears to be a culmination of his entire line. I'm sorry to distress you so." He reached out to offer comfort.

She nodded and stared at Baron.

He remained still, uncomfortable with the attention, and unsure how to avoid it.

"I know it can't be Ian, but I sense him, Waliff. I smell him." She walked over to Baron. "I see him in you," she whispered, her fingertips trailing along his arm. 

Goosebumps exploded across his flesh.

"You're blushing. Do you have his memories as well?" she asked.

Baron turned aside, feeling like an interloper as intimate memories of her panting flashed before his lids. His eyes latched onto the patterns of the blue, gold, and crimson mosaic in the marble floor, while he attempted to beat back the heat threatening to choke him at her words.

He coughed to cover his embarrassment. "I'm, I'm not sure yet. This change happened recently, and I'm feeling my way." He hoped the awkward pat on her arm put her at ease. That flash of memory of her and his lineman rose so fast and clear; he couldn't help but stare at her and wonder at her flexibility. 

In contrast to his linemen, Baron's sexual experience was indeed limited, and never extended to anyone outside his race. He wasn't sure what Selma was, but she wasn't Valdine or human.

"We have a dilemma," Waliff said bringing the attention to the purpose of their visit.

Baron was happy to have the interest removed from him. Then Waliff pointed at him. "He is no longer the same. Since we had no warning, there's no termination file in place. Also, we have no rebirth file for this transformation. What do you suggest?" he asked as she returned to her desk and slowly sat down.

Selma owned and operated the highest rated transition firm in the world. Unlike the movies, every species aged. They just didn't die like humans. They transitioned, and it was a big production. Companies like Selma's were masters at making the process smooth, from the funeral to reentry a week or month or so later. The cycle simply kept turning. She'd been doing it for centuries. Baron had used her company for years, although this was the first time he'd been in her office. They had little in common and had never had a conversation.

Typing some information in the computer, she looked up at Baron. He offered a tiny smile. Shaking her head, she continued typing.




Ultimate Line Ch. 02



Waliff arched a brow at him.

He shrugged and sat on the sofa stretching his legs.

"Baron you were only in your previous state for ten years. Have you developed any romantic liaisons or friendships with any humans who would notice you've gone missing?" She asked as she continued typing.

"No I have not." He spoke quickly.

She glanced up and over at him. "Please stand and move to the spot next to the desk."

He did as requested.

"Look up at the dot above my head please. Thank you. Now, can you smile?" He smiled, her hand faltered while he waited. "Um, okay. Now do you have any identifying marks that you didn't have before?"

"Yes, I do."

She waited. "Can I see it? And then I'll need to record it."

Nodding, he pulled the tee shirt off and threw it to the chair. Lifting his arm, he pointed to the mark on his side.

"Selma?" He looked at her after a moment. "Selma it's right here." He pointed with his other hand. "Have you recorded it yet?" His face and throat tightened. He hated being the object of stares.

"Um, yes." She smacked her lips and peered closer at the spirals and odd markings. "That's unfamiliar, what is it?"

"It's a Valdine symbol meaning last," Baron answered as he moved away to get his shirt.

"Wait," Selma yelled, stopping him. "I... I need to record you. I mean I need to record your mark." She watched every move he made with an unnatural light in her eyes. Like a hawk savoring its next catch. 

Uneasy, he glanced at Waliff who stared at his movements before he caught his eye. The older man nodded.

"Selma are we finished here?" Waliff asked handing him his shirt. "Baron will need to keep his name. I hope that can be arranged." 

"Yes, I'm just about done here." Baron turned his back on the woman as he slipped into his shirt. His face blazed with discomfort of her treatment of him. Waliff smiled at his obvious embarrassment.

Standing, Selma walked over to Baron and handed him an envelope. "You've been in the system for just 10 years, so I updated all your data with your new photo and tattoo. You are good to go." She stood close to him, staring at his fingers, with the envelope clasped in her hand. He tugged and she released it with a strangled sound.

Her hand latched onto his forearm. "Baron...Baron, you look really good," she said on a whispery sigh. "I see Ian and a few others from your line. Yours was one of the better lines you know." She inched closer and inhaled.

Pulling his shoulder back, he looked down surprised. He'd known Selma for centuries, and they'd never gone beyond a polite greeting to one another. He'd never been interested and nothing had changed. Now, his mind clicked with memories, which certainly weren't his, of her doing things with his linesman he'd never seen or heard of.

"Th-thanks, Selma" he stuttered, sure his face was stark white. "I've got to get going. There are some things I need to take care of." Peeling her hand from his arm, in a blast of speed, he made it to the door as Waliff unsealed it. Without a backward glance, he escaped.

"Baron," Waliff called out. He stopped on the other side of the door. "Baron, you can't run every time a woman is attracted to you. Get a grip, man." Although he spoke quietly, Baron heard the laughter underlying his tone.

"Very funny, you knew she'd had a-a fling with Ian didn't you?" he countered as they reappeared in Waliff's veranda.

"Yes, but truthfully it happened so long ago, I'd forgotten until she called out his name. By the way, until you discover how Icar and Brevar departed, you might want to mask your scent. You don't want anyone thinking they've come back for retribution."

"They left willingly on a conquest of honor, there was no foul play." Baron answered harshly. His hand flew to his mouth, and his eyes widened first in surprise then apprehension. He gazed at Waliff, concerned. "What the... where did that come from?"

"It came from you." Waliff stared at him pensively for a moment. "You need some time alone with your line to get reacquainted. You are our first hybrid. I trust you will keep notes so in the future we won't be caught off guard. I'm sorry, I cannot tell you more about what to expect. All I know is that this is a promise fulfilled by the Ultimate, and He is aware of what's happening. Neither He nor the good Madre has shared anything with me, my friend."

Nodding, Baron stretched. "You were right. There are some strong personalities in this line, and I must get to know them. Parameters need to be put in place as we discover how to function in this new setting." He waved at his body.

"Also, you will need to take a seat on the council." He waved down Baron's objection. "I know you prefer to sit on the sidelines and stay in your labs. Nevertheless, this transformation has changed everything. After the disaster with Schylar and Skye, trust in the board had been damaged. As the Elder in your line, and the wisdom you carry inside, you must consider a place on the Council. Your people have need of you. When word gets out of this transition, the promise from the Ultimate fulfilled, it will strengthen our position against the opposition."

He paced in front of his desk, something Baron rarely saw him do. The opposition must have gained strength. His thoughts drifted toward Skye, a Valdine breeder who'd recently mated with a hunter. Her life had been threatened by a Councilman and his daughter. The results had been tragic for the Councilman who'd played a role in kidnapping the breeder's child. 

"Also, your desires will change with the addition of your linesmen. You may no longer be content to hide in the shadows. You are no longer the same person from before, and your responsibilities have changed." He regarded his friend. "Think on it, Baron."

Baron executed a head bow. "Thank you, Waliff for all your assistance. I will do as you ask and think about everything. First, I must bring order to my house." He bowed deeply from the waist and disappeared.

Waliff sat heavily in his chair. Baron would gain control of his line. The man was disciplined and logical. Even though some in his line were wild, he doubted they could influence Baron to be anyone other than who he was at his core. He wondered what Baron would say if he knew, Garritt Noorda, leader of the rebellion hated and killed Ian, centuries ago. 

Garritt's hatred would extend to Baron. As long as Baron was the last of his line, he would survive, but how would that affect his seed? Would his offspring become a new line? Or would Baron always be last? Rubbing his forehead, Waliff needed answers before blood spilled. Not everyone would be pleased with Baron's new status.

Tapping his desk, he shook off the morose thoughts. He made notes from their conversation and his observations for his files. The Ultimate had chosen wisely. Baron was a genius and would have a positive impact on his line and more importantly their race.

Baron had just left when Waliff sensed another presence. He wondered at the novelty of both men seeking his counsel on the same day. He hoped Garritt had not heard of Baron's transformation yet, he needed time to set some things up first.

"Garritt it is good to see you," Waliff stood to accept the bow from his guest. "It has been too long." They both moved inside from the veranda overlooking the mountains and sat down. From behind his desk, Waliff took the opportunity to study his long time associate. The years appeared to be good to Garritt. His color was good, a light tan. Dark brown hair framed a square face, with a hooknose. Overall, an arresting visage coupled with a rangy physique. Light gray eyes shifted around the room, scoping the space while seemingly at ease. Appearances in Garritt's case were deceptive and, Waliff knew, how quickly the man's temperament could change.

"I take it you are not here to return to your position as the leader of our Sentinels." 

Garritt snorted and they chuckled at the long-standing joke. Garritt had indeed given up his commission centuries ago, and Waliff had been requesting his return just as long. They'd reached a compromise. Garritt and Orton, another former council employee, trained Valdines for combat. Almost all the graduates were granted positions as Sentinels if they choose.

"I appreciate you seeing me, Elder Waliff. I have questions and would like to discuss them with you," he said, more subdued.

Neither suffered illusions regarding the feelings of the council towards Garritt. As an Elder and leader, Waliff may seem a little more flexible, but in the end, he would defend the council's position.

"Thank you for coming to discuss things with me first, it is appreciated."

Garritt nodded in acceptance of the rebuke for the time he and his comrades went over the council's authority, attempting to make a direct plea to the Ultimate without their knowledge.

"I know you are aware that I am not pleased with this planet. I believe a terrible bargain took place between the ancients. The Ultimate stripped us of our identity, customs and values. These fragile frames in which we're housed can be painful and are easily destroyed. Our people, who had no knowledge of immorality, prior to coming to this planet, are so steeped into the carnality here that we are forced, to police and destroy our own." He stilled his hands from making more gestures.

"In addition, Hunters refuse to recognize that not all Valdines are Vampires," he spat the name given them. "Not all are violating the agreement with the Ultimate. Most of our people just want to live in peace, quietly. But, the hunters have been harassing our community just because of who we are."

Both men reflected on the situation as it stood. No matter how you sliced it, Waliff recognized there was going to be trouble as long as innocents died.

Garritt sat forward, hands clasped together on his knees. "We, a strong race, depend on others for our sustenance to live. Why is that I ask? The Ultimate could have fashioned this, this thing." He gestured to his body. "In a manner that would have left us with some dignity, something, anything, that did not involve taking food from others in order to survive." 

Waliff stacked a group of papers together and moved them to the side of the desk, needing to do something with his hands. This was an old argument between them and nothing had changed.

"This is unacceptable and we will no longer tolerate this treatment. Too many Hunters get a free pass to slaughter innocent Valdines and nothing is done. We cannot go to the human authorities, to do so would be a violation of the canon. When we retaliate, we are hunted, and our people die! We cannot outwardly show our strengths or harm His precious man! That's another violation of the canon! To die with such indignity, as cats being slaughtered by mice, we should have accepted our fate with the explosion of Valdoon," Garritt said, his tone scathing.

His face burned red with anger, not from blood but from his passion. His piercing eyes bled to white with pin-points of gray an indication of his turbulent emotions.

Waliff spoke before the old discussion grew more heated. "I hear your anger and hurt. I glory in the fact that it comes from a place within you of pride and love for our people. Those are admirable traits. However, I believe you have forgotten a few things."

He waved a hand at Garritt, who tried to get up, causing him to sit immediately. "Valdoon, our planet is no more than a pile of rubble in the galaxy. We could have stayed and perished or found another place of habitation, you say. Tell me Garritt; were we wrong to want to survive? To come to a place that promised our continuation?" He gazed intently at his guest. "Remember, no other planet answered our frantic summons. What would you have done at such a time?"

He waited as Garritt pondered his question.

Gritting his teeth, Garritt scoffed, "Asked more questions, and sought more guarantees for the continuation of our way of life. We cease to exist here. We are being murdered; we have no heritage, no legitimacy."

Waliff nodded. "You are right. We ceased to exist in the form we were when we came to this planet. But first, answer me this. What right or bargaining tool did we have to secure any guarantees? Our planet destroyed, and no resources to offer in exchange." He was perplexed at Garritt's line of reasoning. "We threw ourselves at the mercy of the Ultimate. He could have said no or not answered our distress call as the rest did."

Waliff stared at Garritt, refusing to make this easy. Too many lives were at stake. He would make sure Garritt thought through every nuance of the situation. Perhaps they could avoid an uprising. He doubted it, but he'd try reasoning first.

"Why didn't he just let us come here as we were? We could have tunneled the planet core for him, honest work an honest exchange," Garritt asked. "I survive in the mountains in this hostile place. Every century a few more like me move to a new mountain. These dark areas have become a sanctuary for our bruised spirits. I still say we could have bargained for more."

Waliff's canines descended for a moment before he regained control and snarled, "This planet has rules and a system in place that changes for no one. We needed a place to survive and had to agree to the terms, otherwise we'd be dead." His stare matched Garritt's. He sat poised as if he were granting a job interview.

"Do you remember the panic?" He asked Garitt softly. "The shrill noises, screams, and the pain experienced when the asteroid hit our planet? Not everyone left. Some chose to die at home rather than leave. What about the hysterical pleas sent out for assistance to the neighboring planets and the dreadful silence that followed? Do. You. Remember that?"

Garritt nodded slightly.

"Our planet was destroyed. Only pieces floating in the beltway prove it once existed. We barely escaped to earth. Now, centuries later, that act of kindness chafes you? Is that what you are telling me? Please let's be plain. I want to know what alternatives we had when we were dying and no one came to our aid. No one," he yelled. "Except the Ultimate."

Taking a deep breath, Waliff lifted his hand and smoothed it over his hair. Licking his dry lips, he looked thoughtfully at Garritt, who sat quietly in the chair, watching him.

"This planet belongs to mankind. You must understand they are the primaries; it is the way the Ultimate set it up. Nothing and no one can ever change that." His tone was adamant.

He bent toward his visitor and stated simply. "We are guests here, and like good guests, we must obey the rules."

"And if we don't?" Garritt threw out, appearing ruffled by the finality in Waliff's voice.

Waliff looked up from his desk, his eyes seared him with their intensity. "Then our destruction is complete."

Garritt sneered. "Some bargain, I thought free will was one of the four conditions."

"It is. You can obey the rules or suffer the consequences for disobedience. No one can make you choose either way. If we could our numbers would still be strong." 

"Free will is nothing more than a trick to rob us of who we are."

Waliff glared at him.

Garitt punched his chest with his fist. "I am Valdine. Not this pathetic creature made to inhabit this place. My line has built tunnels in the caverns since the beginning of time, and I refuse to be at the mercy of these sniveling, destructive, immoral beings occupying this place."

With just a touch of smugness, Waliff responded to the rant with a smile. "You say you are Valdine, and yet Valdoon the planet no longer exists. On Valdoon, no one argued, yelled or complained. Nevertheless, here you are ranting and raving. Valdine's burrowed into the ground digesting what they dug and rested, yet I feel your desire to move about this small space. These are not the actions of a Valdine, but the very creatures you claim to hate."

Garritt struggled to move from his chair.

"Be still, Sir Valdine," Waliff mocked. "We have been here for centuries. Some of our kind unfortunately could not adapt. That was understandable. Our old bodies could not survive in this atmosphere. The Ultimate allowed us to remain true to ourselves on the inside, where it matters."

He waved down Garritt's attempt to interrupt in protest. "Because of that, this flesh we inhabit refused to make the fluid necessary to sustain life. We reached a compromise; we could take the little we needed from humans as long as we caused them no harm. To make that a reality, we were also given limited abilities to affect the minds of the donors so no record of the feeding remained." 

Beetling his brows at Garritt, he forced the man to meet his gaze. "You and I both know our race broke that rule repeatedly."

Garritt sputtered as his visage purpled. "Unfair. We were new, the concept of legs and arms foreign. There was so much to learn, and thirst an unusual necessity for us. There were no liquids on our planet to draw compromises."

Waliff meant to hit a sore point. Valdine's had no emotions before coming to this accursed place, now they exploded at the most inconvenient times. He knew Garritt well enough to know he hated it when he lost control.

"It's not fair to throw the early days of our existence in our faces. His precious man has committed worse against their own, repeatedly, yet He gave them the knowledge to exterminate us."

"True and He did not." Waliff agreed as he scanned a page on his desk. Pulling his gaze upward, their eyes clashed. "But Garritt, need I remind you that humans were not exposed to our secrets until the past few centuries. I think it's safe to say, it should not have taken us more than a century to become accustomed to our new way of life. The Ultimate has been more than fair in giving us time to get acclimated. Yet, we still harmed His man. Remember, we set up the Sentinels after the proclamation that they were given knowledge, not before. We knew there were those who violated the rules and did nothing about it." His voice had taken on a weighty sadness, filled with shame as he remembered his earlier transgressions.

Garritt's mouth turned up at the corners. "So he punishes everyone by allowing the humans to hunt us and still require that we do them no harm." 

Waliff wanted to get to the root of the man's anger. Unlike most of the council, he didn't hate or despise the rebel. He understood the difficulty of change. But, he could not allow one Valdine or a small group of them to destroy their way of life. "Yes, although most humans don't believe we exist and are not after us. As long as we follow the rules we can co-exist, live in peace. Isn't that what you want?"

Garritt looked at the mountainside, inhaled, and glanced at him. "I want to be able to share my heritage with pride. I understand that my world is no more." He raised his hands. "But perhaps there is another similar world we can inhabit that is more like home. This place..." He gestured toward the view outside the veranda. "This place is so noisy, and they have multiplied so quickly, they are everywhere. The men have no integrity, neither are they concerned that they are destroying this planet. In truth, most men do not care for The Ultimate. I find it hard to understand why He cares for them at all. There are enough species here that He can wipe ungrateful man out and start over." Both men sat quietly for a moment. Contemplating their situations, vastly different views, yet bonded from a joint beginning.

"What you want, you cannot have," Waliff said in a lowered voice full of command. "We cannot expose ourselves to mankind." His eyes drilled into Garritt's pale ones as if he could write the dictates into the corners of his mind.

"If you don't like the noise, continue to stay in the mountains where there is quiet. If they are multiplying, it is with His permission. You talk of matters that are not your concern."




Ultimate Line Ch. 02



He rested his hands on the arms of his chair as he leaned back into his seat. "The relationship the Ultimate has with man is their affair, stay out of it. Despise them if you wish, but do so from afar, and do not touch them. I speak the truth to you. He is jealous over them, and champions them whether they appreciate it or not. If it matters not to Him if they believe, then it does not matter to us. We know there is much in the unseen and are not ignorant of the higher powers. We tap into it daily to survive." He tapped a finger on top of the papers that lay on his desk to drive home his point.

After a moment of silence, Garritt spoke. "I have heard that the Ultimate will put us out if there is too much disturbance." He leaned back in his chair, appearing relaxed and unruffled at the warning he'd just received.

Warily, Waliff looked at him. "You heard wrong. We can leave at any time if the majority chooses. However, if an individual disobey the rules, that person will be destroyed. Our numbers will continue dwindling until we learn to live harmoniously."

"Humph. Why would He destroy us after going through all that to save us?"

Scoffing, Waliff tilted his head to the side. "You act as if what He did taxed His strength." He knew Garritt didn't understand the breadth or depth of the state of affairs. "What was life altering and complicated to us, was merely a thought for him. He knew when we requested to maintain our essence that we would later require changes; that's why we always have access to Him through the Madre." 

He took a glimpse at his visitor's face, before continuing. "Most of our race calls this place home and has no desire to leave. What will you do now? The longer we stay; we become more acclimated to this way of life. We are breeding. The young do not know the old way of life. We have changed and operate in family units, another thing uncommon on Valdoon. Emotions, strong desires, lusts, and yes, even perversions are a solid part of our makeup now. I don't see that changing, so tell me what will you do?"

Garritt stood, stretched, and began pacing, his boots the only sound in the room. No doubt, his mind raced over all he'd been told, Waliff mused. Most he knew already. Garritt wasn't crazy, at least not yet, and he understood the terms of the canon. He just didn't like it.

Finally, Garritt spoke while looking out towards the mountains. "I still believe the ancients committed a gross injustice to our people. Earth was never the answer; it compounded the problem. We are quickly losing our identity. Most of us are more human than Valdine. Our people have become lazy through the centuries, they refuse to survive without what they consider comforts." Hands spread wide, he appeared lost. "I also believe our people are casualties in a master game between the Trickster and the Ultimate. Yes, we were told of the Trickster prior to the bargain between the ancients and the Ultimate. But Waliff, there was no way to understand how intimately the Trickster dwelt with man and his kind. We were desperate and had no frame of reference. We were, and still are, pawns." Garritt's head hung as he made his last remark into the quiet of the room.

"You ask what I will do. I...I do not know." He sounded bleak. "I cannot settle this thing in me. A war rages inside, and I'm having a difficult time controlling it. Orton has deep concerns over my stability and helps more each day with the training. We have decided to take only a handful of students and even that will be curtailed. I admit, I cannot continue this path. It tears me apart. One minute I know what you say is true, we had little choice, the next I feel as though we have been betrayed and become enraged."

Sighing, he executed a short bow. "I have heard your words, and I know they are true. We are indebted to the Ultimate, although I do not like it." Garritt shuffled towards the entrance, shoulders slumped, his earlier bearing changed.

Inwardly, Waliff grieved for his comrade, yet he recognized the danger the unstable man presented.

"I thank you for the time you have taken with me today," Garritt spoke from the door.

Waliff returned the bow and watched him leave. "Do not allow the Trickster to fool you into doing something that will destroy you."

Waving his hand tiredly in reply, Garritt continued down the path.

Waliff sat and began writing the notes from this meeting, reflecting on all he'd heard. Although Garritt did not commit to anything, his words set hard upon Waliff's shoulders.

Garritt was right; their people had known nothing of deceit or immorality. There had been no concept of right or wrong prior to entering this realm. The seduction began soon after their arrival. Greed, jealousy, and pride followed shortly thereafter, causing many to forget the canon they'd formed with The Ultimate. 

He'd seen it all, had participated himself at first. It was not one of their more shining moments as a species, but they'd gotten a handle on it and began turning things around. Humans called them Vampires, and they were correct, he thought. They preyed upon man in order to live. No one should have to live like that.



Ultimate Line



"Hmmm, what? What did you say?" Rauff asked, confused.

Baron, still going over the information in his mind, waved him off. "Nothing, what do you mean not really? Either you can read her or you can't." Aggravation clung as he tried to dissect Rauff's vague remarks.

"What did you mean she didn't pay me any attention?" Interest renewed. It never failed. Rauff was about Rauff.

Baron smiled. "Usually when you walk into a room, a park or a baseball field, women, and some men, stop to check you out. It's been that way for centuries. I have watched." He nodded in the direction of the human. "She didn't look up or in your direction. I found that odd."

Baron and Rauff stared at each other and then back at the human in the shop. Her head was bent over a few books as she highlighted and made notes on a pad.

Predictably, Rauff's arrogance peaked. Baron knew he wasn't interested in the female personally. It was the chase, the challenge, which drew his partner's interest.

"Hmmm, you may have a point. I didn't think about how dangerous this could become." Without looking at Baron, he made a suggestion. "I think I'll walk back in for a biscuit or something, and this time I'll monitor her scent and heart rate. That way we'll know if she's playing a game, or if she's unique." The indifferent tone he'd used to unique made it clear he didn't believe it possible.

Baron understood, and nodded his head in agreement. Although he found himself a little uncomfortable with Rauff testing the human, his curiosity won the debate. Having lived as long as they both had, things that were different and upset the status quo were always worth pursuing and studying.

He watched both Rauff and the human. She stretched, rubbed her eyes, and drank some more from her cup. Not once did she glance at anyone else in the shop, including Rauff. His partner walked out the shop with a perplexed look on his face.

"Her heartbeat and breathing remained steady and strong the entire time. But you were right; she did not pay me the least attention." He admitted with a slight shrug, and started moving down the sidewalk. "Although the blond and brunette sitting near the door passed me their business cards as I left."

"No surprise there," Baron muttered. After a last look at the human, he turned and caught up with Rauff. They walked around the corner in companionable silence. They'd been associates for centuries, had traveled across the globe together, and watched out for one another. If he had any of what humans claimed as friends, then Rauff would fall under that category.

"Do you think I should talk to Waliff about this?" Baron asked, referring to the head Elder of the vampires. Things were already tense in the vampire community. Hunters now used electronic devices, there was talk of an uprising, a council member had been beheaded, and Waliff was in the midst of it.

Rauff shrugged. His leather coat barely moved. "I don't know. We've been here so long there's bound to be anomalies. Rules have been broken and matings are happening between species today that were taboo centuries ago. Does it make a difference you can't read a human? I don't know."

Surprisingly, what he'd said actually made sense, and Baron nodded as they continued to their cars. The night air felt good and smelled fresh. Horns honked at pedestrians, neon lights flashed welcome and establishments beckoned the night patrons.

Baron spoke quietly, after a group of teens brushed by. "The big question, 'what if' comes to mind."

Rauff hissed at him as he rolled his eyes. "Whatever Baron, you've held me up long enough. I have to get back to the club. You are always making more of—"

"I know, I know," Baron agreed in an attempt to stall a lecture. "I'm always looking for more, when they may not be more." Exhaling, he continued. "Well, this could have some repercussions, you never know. It may be just the tip of the iceberg."

Rauff snorted, pulled up his collar and stepped into his car. "You've traveled across the world, discovered more and done more to help our kind than you'll ever receive credit for. Yet you rarely take time for just fun and relaxation. We've discussed this many times in the past, so I don't expect tonight to be much different. You really need to relax." Smiling wickedly in the face of Baron's frown, he said, "maybe you should find out more about your human, talk to her and, ask her on a date. Then you can ask all the questions you'd like." 

Rauff started his engine, missing the dark scowl and finger sent his way.

Leaning against his car, Baron's mind returned to the black female. He'd been attracted to her from that first night at the bar. Her voice teased him with a siren's promise. He'd stood behind her car listening to the seductive cadence while watching her long shapely limb, until she drove off. 

Tempted to turn back to the coffee house and wait for her, he realized Rauff might be right. Perhaps he was making too much of this. He left for home, a part of him screaming for him to turn around. The battle that raged inside him had never happened before. It concerned him. That night was the first time in centuries he failed to answer a summons from Lukian. Instead, he drove around for hours to clear his nose.

Chapter 3

Could it be more humid? Simone blew a strand of curly hair from her sweat-drenched face as she and her trainee, Carrie, stepped out of the small compact car. Although the general area was familiar to her, she looked in both directions for a quick neighborhood assessment. Newer model cars graced the driveways. Freshly painted homes with manicured lawns lined the street. Satisfied the area remained stable, she made her notes, then touched the pepper spray in her pouch.

Firsthand experience had taught her looks could be deceiving. She always prepared for the unexpected. Pulling out her folder with the assignment information, she retrieved the necessary forms and placed them on the clipboard. Glancing downward, she verified the address on the house and walked toward the front door. They had a full day of inspections scheduled, and she wanted to finish early so she could spend some time with her niece, Marissa. Her thinned lips softened as a smile curved her lips as the thought of Marissa returning home later today.

Walking around the car, she looked at her assistant. "Go ahead and get the pictures of the street, and the front and rear of the property, Carrie. I'll let the—" She glanced down at the name on the order. "— Browns know we're here. Make sure you grab the tape measure."

Carrie nodded, holding up the measuring device, and headed to the middle of the street to snap photos.

Reaching the porch, Simone looked around for the doorbell. She walked the length of the concrete porch, searching. After a moment without success, she knocked on the dark mahogany stained door.

No answer.

She looked again to verify the house number attached to the wall matched her documents. It was missing. Her gaze scanned the front of the house. Somehow, it looked different from what she'd seen from the street or in her Googled photos.

"What the hell?" she murmured, glancing back at her car. Positive she'd verified the address prior to approaching the house, she knocked again, harder. Inching backward, a sharp prick dug into the back of her arm. Yanking it forward, she cupped the bruised member, and watched beads of blood well up on her arm. As she glared at the offending thorny plant, intense pain radiated from the injury on her arm throughout her body.

"Where did that bush come from?" Striding from the porch, she cradled her bruised arm. Once she reached her car, she pulled out a tissue, folded it, and applied pressure on the wound as she searched the area for Carrie.

"I hope she hasn't started measuring. No one's home to allow us entry," she muttered, trying to ignore her throbbing arm. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped because she'd never been good at handling the sight of blood.

"Simone, are you ready?" Carrie yelled, walking from the side of the house.

Simone's mouth dropped open, then snapped shut at the sight of the opened front door and smiling elderly man striding toward her assistant. Shaking her head, she focused on the house again. The front now looked just like the house she'd seen when they had initially arrived. Her eyes narrowed on the prominent address affixed to the front wall. 

Walking forward, she searched for the thorny plant that had attacked her, and the mahogany door with no door bell. "I am not going crazy," she murmured.

If it weren't for her still-painful arm, she'd swear she'd hallucinated the entire incident. Setting her confusion aside for the moment, she pasted her professional lets-do-this smile across her face. She thrust her right hand toward the elderly man.

"Good afternoon, Sir, my name is Simone Locklear. This is Carrie, and she's assisting me today. We're here to do the appraisal inspection on your home."

The man studied her for two, maybe three seconds max, then looked at Carrie and smiled wide. His dentures clicked together in his haste to greet the petite blonde.

Inwardly, Simone groaned. Yep, today would be long, hot, and humid. Forging ahead she explained the procedure. "We'll be starting on the outside, taking pictures and measuring the building."

She waited for his response, only to have him nod without taking his eyes off Carrie's bust line. "After we complete the exterior inspection, we'll come inside and inspect the interior. Do you have any dogs?" Simone continued, her tone crisp.

"No, just a couple of cats." He looked at Carrie. "You're not allergic to cats are you?"

Carrie smiled. "No sir."

Simone rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. Carrie needed to complete a certain amount of appraisals to become a Certified Appraiser. Simone didn't care how men acted around Carrie as long as it didn't interfere with their work. Being a Certified General Appraiser, Simone specialized in commercial appraisals, but could handle a residence in a pinch. Today, her lead residential appraiser had called in sick, and she had to cover for him.

Completing the outside work, they knocked on the front door. "We're ready to inspect the inside now." Waiting, Simone searched the area again for the mahogany door and the demon plant. Her arm still throbbed, reassuring her she'd actually had a mishap.

The door opened wide and he swept his arm forward. "Sure, come on in." Glancing over at Carrie, he grinned. Inside, a big tabby cat purred around Simone's ankle and then moved toward Carrie in greeting.

Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Carrie clicking photos. With a sigh, Simone wrote beside the sketch. "We'll be taking pictures of each room and filling in the sketch to complete a floor plan for the mortgage company. This way, coupled with the photos, they'll have an opportunity to get a better idea of your home."

Eventually they approached a closed door.

"Mr. Brown can we inspect this room?" Simone asked, looking back at him.

He tugged his ear sheepishly. "Um, I'd rather you didn't. Could you just say you did?" His face turned cherry red.

A dull throb rose in the base of her head. Two fingertips bracketed her nose as she stared at the door. "No, and if I can't access every room of this house, this inspection is over and the appraisal will not be completed. The refinance of your property may not continue, but I will be compensated for my time. Do you understand?" Frustration laced her voice. This asshole wanted her to lie, possibly lose her license, her livelihood, for his secrets. Hell no. Sharp pain shot from her shoulder to the fingertips of her abused arm. The well of patience she normally drank from, dried up. She motioned to Carrie and walked off.

He huffed behind them. "Wait, wait just a dang moment."

Neither she nor Carrie spoke, they just continued to the front door.

"Please 'cuse my language. It's just that, dang it, I didn't know women'd be a coming today. Never had a woman before." He sputtered a quick correction. "Uh, I mean, uh, woman appraiser, not that I've had one, well, let me just shut up while I'm ahead." His face and neck flamed red.

Simone stopped and turned, worrying he might have an attack of some kind. "Are you opening the door, Mr. Brown? Otherwise, we need to leave. We have other appointments today." She pushed, not wanting to stay another minute longer than necessary.

The moment the last word left her mouth, nausea churned in her gut. Her mouth and throat dried up as though the plug had been ripped from her saliva bin. To secure her balance, she stood with legs apart, positive she'd hit the floor otherwise. Closing her eyes, briefly, to regain her composure, her breath hitched as beautiful, colorful images flew past her lids so quickly she couldn't grasp their meaning.

"You coming? Simone?"

Simone opened her eyes at the sound of Carrie's voice. Breathing deeply, she coughed as the smell of cat and stale tobacco assaulted her senses. Her eyes watered at the pungent mix of odors.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," she said, covering her nose. Why hadn't she smelled the stench when she first walked in? Thinking hurt. Pain traveled up her arm, past her shoulder, and now lashed out across her chest. Her fingertips went numb. Throwing her head back, she shuddered in agony as her back tightened and pulled.

Her eyes widened. Scared shitless, afraid to move, she took deep breaths to contain the pain. Carrie turned and reached toward her. Shaking her head, she whispered, " No."

Carried backed off, a concerned frown on her face.

"Sure, sure," he grumbled, unaware of her troubles. He fiddled with a ring of keys, eying each one. "Ah, here it is." Walking back to the door, he unlocked it. Pushing it open, he stepped back so they could walk in. Carrie entered first, leaving her to follow.

***

Unbelievable. It took all kinds.

As Carrie pulled away from Mr. Brown's, they burst out laughing.

Simone popped four Tylenol's into her mouth and guzzled down a bottle of water. She held her pounding head and chuckled. Mr. Brown had his own private porno lounge in his third bedroom. 

No wonder he didn't want them to see. Large posters of naked women in various poses, women with women, toys, and even a blow-up doll lounged in that room. As professionals, they'd tried to hide their surprise as they looked around, and then up at the reddened face of Mr. Brown.

"He had to be about what—sixty or seventy? Carrie gasped around fits of laughter. "He looked older than that. Goodness, you think that's his masturbation room?"

The pain had returned with her outburst of laughter. She lowered her voice in respect to the agony racing up and down her side. "Could be, he had two other bedrooms. I can't imagine a woman feeling comfortable in there. He had that big chair in there, remember?" Simone's lips rose at the corner. "I've been at this for six years and I've seen some weird stuff, but that goes to the top five categories."

"I wonder what he has locked in those storage rooms outside" Carrie said, glancing at her. They looked at each other and laughed again. When she was able to talk, Carrie continued. "He told me to feel free to visit him anytime, said he'd make it worth my while." She managed straight-faced.

"No shit, stop girl. You're joking right?" Simone shuddered at the image of Carrie with a man old enough to be her grandfather.

Carrie laid on the horn at an encroaching driver.

The loud blaring noise in Simone's ear flipped her lips from a smile to a grimace. A stab of pain shot through her head as her vision blurred. The discomfort vibrated throughout her body. Grabbing her phone, she placed a call to her doctor and prayed this hell was only a twenty-four hour virus.