Children of Infinity 4

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CHILDREN OF INFINITY

Disclaimer:

For disclaimers, please see the prologue

Chapter Four

Leslie Burkette sat quietly on the red velvet settee, shoveling one powdered sugar doughnut after another into her round mouth. Crumbs fell from her lips on to the front of her yellow and green flower print sundress. Absently raking crumbs from her dress onto the hardwood floor, she stuffed the remains of her bag of doughnuts into her overly large purse and joined Elizabeth Wu on the veranda.

The slender Asian sat at a round, black, marble table in the corner of the veranda, which overlooked the gardens. She had not, for the most part, forgotten Leslie's presence. She was scribbling down notes in a furious rush, as though afraid her hand would not keep up with her thoughts; topics, to cover at the next board meeting. She was certain this was the time to expand again, especially now that a major competitor like NigelCorp was ready to sell. And it was the perfect opportunity to take care of a nasty little Otherrealm demon problem possibly brewing in Santa Monica.

She wrote a note in the margin of her electronic notepad to call Carrie, her assistant. She wanted someone handling this end of the expansion venture right away. She would send one of her trusted assistants to California to tidy up the deal and solve the demon incident. She couldn't be in two places at once, but the more areas she could expand Wu Software Industries into, the easier it would be for her people to monitor rising problems. Looking up as though to catch an errant thought, she saw Leslie approaching her. The two had met by accident on the Ferry transport to the island and had arrived together at the manor via the island's taxi service.

"So," Leslie grinned snidely, "have you any idea why His Highness and the Royal Queen have summoned us?"

"Alright Leslie, can the bitching. We've been here less than an hour," Elizabeth reprimanded the woman flatly and then shook her head in annoyance. She turned her attention back to her work and dropped down a few more notes. Replacing the electronic notebook and pen wizard neatly into her briefcase, she snapped it shut. Satisfied that the thumbprint scan mechanism on the hi-tech locks had been activated, she looked back at her long time friend and gave her a tolerant smile. She spoke more kindly this time. "I would think that you'd be a little excited. You must admit, the six of us under the same roof after so many years is well … unbelievable." 'Twenty-two years to be exact.' Elizabeth stubbornly ignored the shiver that stole over her. She had come here hoping this reunion was to settle the past and mend the friendships that had become estranged a lifetime ago. It had taken some doing, but she had managed to engineer herself a week from her hectic schedule and had achieved the impossible by finagling herself passage on a flight to North Carolina an hour after Hessing's call. Elizabeth suspected that the others had also had to work miracles to be here and so soon. For immortals, last minute travel could be … challenging. None of them led slow-paced lives. Even Leslie had managed to surprise them all with the opening of her restaurant chain. Elizabeth had visited one of the elegant establishments a few times and had been impressed.

"Well, I wouldn't count on there being 'six' of us at this little reunion. No one's heard from the Dark Bitch in ages. Too good for the likes of us." Leslie's snide smile left Elizabeth itching to slap the smugness out of that grin. But Leslie often had that effect on others. The blonde raised a beefy hand to swat at a fly. The sudden movement caused the excess flesh under her arms to jiggle violently. Her embarrassed blush softened Elizabeth's heart. Leslie had always been one to be taken with several grains of salt.

"She'll be here," Elizabeth gentled her tone. She shivered again and stood to her feet abruptly, startling her companion who was still a little embarrassed by the reminder of her weight. Elizabeth, in contrast, was small and firm. 'There's not an ounce of fat on her. There couldn't be. And there never would be.' Leslie watched the woman walk gracefully to the low veranda wall and lean over it. 'She's more beautiful than I remembered. Humph. Those pictures in Time Life Magazine do her no justice.' She stifled a wistful sigh and joined the woman to peer down into gardens illuminated by stars and a sliver of a moon.

The island of Haven Cove was extraordinarily beautiful, with plush green rolling hills as far as the eye could see and trees that seemed nearly as tall as skyscrapers. All surrounded by water so strikingly clear it was possible to see to the bottom of the sea-green depths. Elizabeth looked forward to a swim in the inviting drink. It had been many years since she had last visited Haven Cove.

The Island was a virtual haven, right down to the varied imported inhabitants who spoke very little, if any, English and asked even less questions. Elizabeth suspected they were imported illegal immigrants/workers. It was the perfect hunting ground - surrounded by water on all sides, one could not have done better by erecting a wall to keep out the undesirables. Elizabeth chuckled at that, considering that six of the world's most dangerous citizens would be converging within the Island 'walls'.

The mansion was as grand a spectacle as was expected; practically a castle, with … its North, West, South, and East wings that boasted of personal suites. And Just beyond the main gates, a ridiculous mote, equipped with a drawbridge that stretched to the main road and was operated by a lone gentlemen in a security booth. It was just the sort of raised-nose, blue-blood pretentiousness their host and hostess would engage in. Elizabeth was not ashamed to admit that she was just as surprised as Leslie that Philip and Victoria had contacted them and had called for this little gathering. And perhaps ten years ago she would have refused, but enough years had gone by to make her curious about what had given them the gall to contact her. That mystery alone was enough to convince her to cancel all of her appointments for the next week or so and have her curiosity satisfied. She suspected Leslie's reason for being there would mirror her own, albeit on a rancorous level. She shrugged the questions from her mind, not willing to delve too deeply into her troubled misgivings. For the moment she wanted to enjoy the view.

Looking down at the garden below, Elizabeth inhaled deeply as she took in its magnificence. It was a lovely vision of colors - blues violets, reds, pinks, and yellows. In the moonlight, the garden resembled the magical fields she'd read about in books of far away netherworlds. Her reverie was interrupted by Leslie's complaint, "It's hot."

"Well, if you can't stand the heat..." a soft, feminine voice spoke from behind them. There was no mistaking that sultry Southern drawl. Victoria Mercer didn't finish the cliché. Instead, she posed in the doorframe for the effect of the 'Goddess by Moonlight', smiling broadly as Elizabeth spun around sharply and returned the smile. Victoria hid a yawn behind a deceivingly dainty hand. "Sorry Ladies; but you know," she paused for dramatic effect, "I've always been somewhat of a ... uh, late riser."

"Victoria." Elizabeth walked towards her. For the moment, old angers and past misdeeds were set aside. Both women's arms opened to receive the other. "I have missed you."

"I've missed you too, Darlin'." The genuine affection between the two left Leslie feeling the bitterly familiar sting of being an outsider. Victoria eyed Leslie coldly over Elizabeth's shoulder. Leslie returned the glare with heated venom. She wasn't fool enough to believe that Victoria wanted her here. Turning up the corners of her top lip, she feigned disgust at their emotional display.

Elizabeth stepped back from Victoria and looked at her. As dramatic as ever. Victoria's long black dress could almost have been a replica of that of the Addams family's Matron, Morticia. The dress was cut dangerously low and tight and full, pale breasts strained at the fabric. "You look as beautiful as ever, Torie," Elizabeth told the fiery, auburn haired woman.

"And you ... Eli," Victoria's green eyes sparkled mischievously, her gaze moving over the woman with her usual flirtatious appreciation, "look absolutely delicious."

"Are you two through yet?" Leslie interrupted, tired of being ignored. "This is really becoming quite nauseating."

"Leslie," Victoria purred approaching the distrustful woman, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It's so good of you to come." Her voice was thick with redundant politeness. "And I see you haven't changed ... too much." Leslie steeled herself for the dig she knew was coming. "Why, with the exception of the loss of weight ... control, you're still the same disagreeable sow you were in college."

"Go fuck yourself!" Leslie hissed. She stood to her full height, towering over the smirking face of the redhead by an inch. She stepped forward and closed the distance between them.

"Plan on sitting on me, Darlin'?" Victoria challenged, "or smacking me with one of those fat rolls?" She ran her eyes over the woman, displaying her disgust and disapproval with the wrinkling of her nose.

"When I'm done with you..."

"Torie! Leslie!" Elizabeth snapped; appalled by the animosity that still existed between the two women. She zinged a narrow bolt of lightening from her fingers and zapped the small space between the two who were now facing off with each other. Elizabeth's light show startled them, causing both women to part abruptly. Victoria's verbal attack had been over the top and unsolicited. Elizabeth had never condoned attacks on a person's appearance, and she was not about to start. "This is a reunion, not a rematch! And I don't plan on playing referee to you two." Her eyes narrowed with warning. Leslie bristled for a moment and then backed down. Victoria followed suit.

"Some other time then." Leslie spoke softly, her eyes flashing with the need for retaliation.

"Some other time," Victoria nodded coolly. She plastered on her best charming smile and reclaimed her jovial hostess voice. "For now." She turned back to Elizabeth with amusement. Oh, she knew she had raised the Asian's ire, but it was worth it to get in that first, below-the-belt punch. Remembering her role as hostess, she threw both women off guard by perking up suddenly. It was a talent. "I have a surprise for you both. I picked up a stray last night at the tram station." They followed her through the door into the spacious interior of the mansion's parlor. It wasn't hard to guess what the surprise was, or ... who. Only one of them would have thought to take a tram.

Alexandria Parker, dressed casually in button-fly Levi's and a simple black T-shirt, stood from her stool at the wet bar and smiled as the three women approached her. Her elongated canines were bared slightly, giving her a slightly inhuman look. Her hair fell in long, thick curls and was as unruly as ever. "Alex." Leslie's eyes sparkled with mischief and real affection, "Anyone ever tell you that had you been born black," she pointed to Alex's hair "that would be one helluvan Afro?" All four women laughed easily at the innocent, long-standing joke started by Logan upon her introduction to Alex Parker more than twenty years ago. Elizabeth pulled the impossibly thin woman into her arms for a warm embrace and released her only because she knew that Leslie especially would want to hug her.

Alex was swallowed up in the soft pudginess of her closest friend's embrace. She smiled angelically as she returned the hug wholeheartedly. Leslie, Alex was of the firm belief, gave the best hugs in the world.

She'd missed Leslie keenly.

Leslie was at once filled with relief and calm. Alex at least had always accepted her as is. No hidden agendas or double meanings behind her smile. Alex was simply, Alex. She released the skinny woman and stepped back, still grinning at her with genuine affection. "So, how was the water-tram ride?" Leslie teased.

"Long," Alex shrugged. "Uneventful, boring ... and wonderful." She smiled broadly, throwing her arms out in a grand gesture of joy. Her three companions chuckled at her ever-present predictability.

Victoria stepped behind the bar and set up four wine glasses. "Can I interest you Ladies in a drink?" She retrieved a wine bottle from a small stainless steel cooler and held it up for their inspection. "1987." She chuckled lightly and winked. "Vintage virgin."

"Good year," Elizabeth nodded. That was their sophomore year at Cayce College and the year after they'd all met, minus Logan, and formed their little group. Pulling the cork, Victoria began pouring the thick crimson liquid into the glasses. She inhaled the scent of well-aged blood from the cork and ran her tongue across her slightly elongated fangs.

The hostess handed each of the women their drinks before settling herself comfortably on a chaise with her own glass. "I'm rather looking forward to this little gathering." Victoria smiled coyly and engaged Alex and Elizabeth in some light 'catching up on each other' conversation. Leslie could barely hide her grimace of distaste. Each time that fake little demure laugh escaped from Victoria's lips, Leslie thought her ears would bleed from the sound.

'Bullshit.' She glanced at Victoria, so effortlessly playing the perfect hostess, and had to sustain from physically objecting to being in her presence. 'This is all bullshit.' She rifled through her large handbag and smiled in triumph as she found the remains of her powdered sugar donuts. She rescued them from her carryall, convinced they would go very nicely with the virgin blood. After a bite and then a chaser of the fluid, she was satisfied that she had been correct. Another eruption of laughter from Victoria and she felt her nerves becoming quite jangled. There was nothing in Victoria's eyes or body language that spoke of sincerity.

'Something's not playing well here.' Especially considering that the last time the six of them were all together under one roof, one of them had transformed into a murdering, vengeful banshee that had nearly killed them all. Something stank of festering boils. She turned her attention back to the object of her loathing and shook her head slightly.

She wasn't buying for one minute that Philip and Victoria suddenly had experienced a change of heart and wanted to renew old bonds. To begin with, there had never been any love lost between Philip and her, 'not even when we were fucking.' They had been friends out of convenience, although Elizabeth had been too kind-hearted to see that. And as for her and Victoria's hatred for each other, that had been forged at first sight. 'Of course,' Leslie grinned pleasantly at a memory, 'it didn't help matters any when she found out Philip and I had been screwing around behind her back.'

There was no reason for her Royal Cuntness (of course Leslie would never call her that out loud; Alex and Elizabeth would object to her using such a crass word, although why their opinions of her still mattered was often a mystery to the blonde) to contact her in a bid for a renewal of friendship. No. This was no social gathering and she suspected that even Elizabeth, who often peered through the eyes of the fatalistic optimist, was aware of that.

"So where's the rest of our little clique?" Alex questioned after taking a sip. "Philip and...?"

"Philip's taking care of some last minute business," Victoria supplied quickly and averted her gaze when Elizabeth glanced in her direction.

"And as for our sixth member?" Leslie smirked and shrugged carelessly.

"She'll be here." Elizabeth spoke with confidence, ignoring the harrumph from Leslie. Elizabeth wasn't sure exactly what to expect from this summons. Though she hadn't seen the caramel-skinned woman in quite some time now, she was always very aware of her. The bond between herself and the woman was unlike that which Logan shared with the others.

Elizabeth was empathically conscious of Logan at all times; much like sharing a home with someone and being in the house or room with them but only seeing them peripherally. At peak moments however, it was as if she were under the woman's skin, feeling every hunt and kill, every moment of anger and sexual passion. And for the past twenty-four hours there had been a tarp of edginess constricting painfully around the Huntress. Logan was off-balance and possibly very dangerous. "She'll be here."

"Oh yes." Philip stepped into the foyer with a deep scowl on his face, obviously displeased with something. "You can be assured that she'll be here. After all, the idea for this little reunion was all hers."

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

Darelling rubbed the sweat from his left eye and studied the sample under the scope once more. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it. The major component of the virus seemed to be some type of blood. If it was blood, it wasn't from a human or from any animal that he knew. He glanced up at his door for the hundredth time. He was perspiring profusely with anxiety.

The small sample from the vials that he had kept for himself could bring him fame and notoriety, if he could discover all of the virus' properties. He'd not had time to make copies of Dr. Houston's findings. His contact had ordered that all the samples found and Doctor's notes be turned over to him at once, refusing to allow Darelling to study them further. He knew the man he had spoken to on the phone had intended to destroy the other samples and the notes. "The man has no respect for science," Darelling had decided upon receiving his final orders. What he had briefly glimpsed of the deceased doctor's notes had been useless. They had been written in some kind of code.

He had been working blind, but had at least been able to ascertain some of the virus' capabilities before turning the major samples over. Using some of the Doctor's own blood and a sample of his own, he had conducted tests that showed that in some cases the virus attacked the blood cells, completely devouring them but at other times, the virus attached itself to samples, mutated the blood and then expanded, thriving on the nourishment and further mutating itself.

It wasn't air borne and so would have to be either ingested or entered through the blood stream - an open wound or scratch would probably be enough. He would have liked to question Houston on her reasons for its creation, but he knew the doctor well enough to realize that she would have been trouble. But in fairness to her hard work, he had decided to name it HDF; Houston's Discovery Factor. Of course he wouldn't be sharing what those initials truly stood for.

'Amazing.' He poured himself a shot of Scotch and took a sip. 'If I can break down the components in this thing, I can create a vaccine and put it on the market. What government wouldn't want to get their hands on this?' A warring government could simply taint the enemy's water supply. He was certain the US would outbid any nation before allowing HDF to fall into anyone else's clutches. Darelling took his responsibilities as a scientist seriously, but he also considered himself a businessman. With the profit he would make from the sale of the virus and his vaccine, he could fund his own projects - projects that Sci-tech had rejected as too unethical or costly.

He looked around the sparse lab in the basement of his home and smiled with satisfaction. With the very generous payment he had received from his benefactor, he would begin buying the equipment he needed immediately and take a leave of absence from Sci-Tech. Downing the remainder of his Scotch, he poured himself another, glanced nervously at the door to his basement and laughed at his own paranoia. 'But a person with ambitions,' he reminded himself as his gaze returned to his workstation, 'needed to be cautious with every step' - a lesson Dr. Houston had learned too late. "Ambitious men and women always have a devil nipping at the jugular." He spoke out loud.

"No truer words have ever been spoken, Doc." Startled, Darelling lost his grip on the glass. It shattered at his feet, the contents dousing his shoes and the bottom of his pant- legs. He glared at the intruder angrily and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Well, I never liked Scotch."

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded furiously. He vaguely recognized the woman but couldn't recall from where. He glanced nervously to the sample he had resealed in the containment cylinder. He turned his wary eyes back to the intruder as she circled the crude lab as though inspecting it. "Well, I asked you a question," he snapped impatiently when she neared the cylinder. Logan smiled coyly and approached, slowly backing him into a wall.

"I'm that devil you mentioned." She let out a roar and laughed at the strong odor of urine that suddenly permeated the space between them. Darelling's mouth opened, but he was too frightened to utter a sound. She towered over him, pressing her body against him and lowered her head to run her nose gently like a lover's caress along the side of his neck, inhaling his fear. "But I don't want your jugular." She shoved her right hand through his breastbone. He began to scream and Logan groaned with pleasure at the sound. "I want your heart."

Ripping the organ from his chest, she tossed it over her right shoulder. It sounded much like a wet sponge hitting the cement floor of the basement. She laughed and stepped back as he slid down the wall to the floor. Darelling stared down in horror at the gaping hole that was gushing blood from his chest to where his heart lay beating on the floor without him. He lifted his left hand and pointed at it as though in amazement. Darelling's body began to spasm in a death rattle, and then he slumped over on to his side, dead.

Logan stood over the body a moment longer and considered reviving him so she could have the pleasure of killing him again. She smiled at the thought but decided it would take too much time. And killing him a second time in the zombied state he would awaken in wouldn't be nearly as satisfactory as it had been the first time. She stepped over to his table and retrieved the cylinder and notes. She tensed immediately upon sensing the presence of another. Her jaws clenched together reflexively in anger.

"You really must learn to control that temper." Logan ignored the unexpected intrusion. She stuffed cylinder and notes into her coat pocket and then proceeded to tear the lab apart. "You know you're not going to find those other vials here." She turned around and stared at the dead man still slumped over on the floor. "Killing him before finding out what he did with those other cylinders ... Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Not a very smart move, Logan."

"What do you want, Carl?" she finally acknowledged his presence as she continued rifling through file cabinets in search of clues. He growled in response to the name Carl. Logan smirked with satisfaction. She called him that because he refused to tell her his real name - it really pissed him off - and because she had no intentions of ever calling him Father, as he had suggested upon their first real introduction.

"Killing him didn't get you what you wanted."

"Oh, that's not true." She grinned ruefully over her shoulder at the dead man. "I wanted him dead. He's dead." She shrugged.

"So, for whom was he working?" He smiled at her immediate irritation. "Uh huh..." he folded his arms across his chest like a scolding father. "Didn't consider that before killing him and his accomplice, did you?" He raised his brows questioningly, "Or better still, where are the other cylinders?"

"I'll get them back," she hissed, perturbed at him for being right. "And I'll find out who paid Darelling off." She turned away to avoid his gaze, irritated at his smugness. "Besides, it's apparent that neither he nor his little sidekick knew who hired them. If he'd known what he'd really been dealing with, he would have been cowering in a hole somewhere on the other side of the planet."

"Maybe you're right, but you're still not thinking clearly, Logan," he warned. "You haven't been since you heard of the Doctor's demise." He walked over to her and lifted her chin with his finger so that she was looking him in the eyes. "You're letting human sentimentality cloud your judgment. I warned you about that."

"She was my friend," Logan ground out angrily.

"You don't have friends," he spoke crossly to her. "She was a tool and nothing more." She snatched her chin away from him, only to have her mentor reclaim it with a firm grip. "Friends..." he spoke the word as though it were an abomination. "... make you weak and affect your thinking. You can't afford to make costly mistakes."

"I've got everything under control." She tried to jerk her face from his grip, but he squeezed painfully. Ignoring the discomfort, she growled at him warningly, her eyes flashing with fury as she shoved him forcefully away from her. He chuckled at her fiery spirit. She wasn't afraid of him and he liked that. "Nothing is going to get between me and what I want." She brushed past him and up the stairs to Darelling's kitchen. He appeared in front of her before she could reach the back door and raised a hand to halt her.

"What about your five college chums?"

"What about them?" The suspicion in her voice amused him.

"I advised you to kill them."

"It wasn't necessary," she stated flatly, obviously disinterested in the subject. "They're no threat to me." She moved around him and reached for the door handle.

"Oh, no?" His tone stopped her, and she faced him impatiently.

"Just what are you getting at?" Her eyes narrowing, she closed the distance between them until they were standing toe to toe.

"Remember, if it weren't for them, you would never have been out that night." He raised a brow. "Alone and unprotected." He ran finger along the side of her face that had been scarred years ago. "It was their betrayal, Logan, that got you hurt." Logan batted his hand away from her face.

"Old news." This time she was out the door, leaving him staring after her.

"Maybe." His voice followed her out into the dark. "But you've been betrayed again."

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