05-19-2015, 10:41 AM
Jensen's question left Connor considering. The last time the man had contacted him, they'd ended up in the middle of trying to rescue some kids from a human trafficking ring. He had snapped that night, had just lost it on that man. For a moment, the anger that had spiked his blood then returned, and he felt his fists clench and unclench. The man was dead, beaten and stomped to death with his own hands and feet, the little girl saved.
But how safe? Jensen's words indicated that it might not have been enough. Still, it had felt good to do something, to make a difference, to save people. He realized that he hungered for that. He wanted his life to mean something, to matter. In the back of his mind, he imagined Hayden sat there, watching him, believing in him. He wanted his son to be proud of him.
He looked at Jensen. Hiss eyes were intense and earnest. He recognized it. The hunger to help, to do something. If Jensen needed his help, it was worth doing.
All trace of banter and joking was gone. "I'm in. You tell me what you need and I'm there."
He heard Charlie shift and wasn't sure what else to say. His getting involved was one thing. Involving Charlie, though....come to think of it, what about Ayden? The last time, he'd been shot. Yeah, it was by her.
But they had turned a corner. No secrets. He wouldn't hide this from her. In fact, she might be able to help. She had a unique set of skills. A smile tugged at his face as he brought out his wallet to text her-
At that moment a scream tore through the restaurant and his head swung in that direction. Everything seemed to move so fast. That man in the trench coat was being savaged by...something. Connor jumped to his feet even as he looked about the ceiling. Was it an ijiraq? He didn't see the tell-tale signs. He looked at Jensen for a moment- they had met fighting an ijiraq- and then he pushed through the now panicked restaurant guests as they scrambled for the exit. He had to get to the man to....he couldn't do anything. But he couldn't just run either. That wasn't who he was.
One of the men was standing with his badge trying to usher people and Connor slipped past him. That girl was on the ground calmly, trying to stop the blood gushing from the man's throat. Connor felt his insides clench at the sight. Had to be a nurse or something. The lack of hesitation despite getting sprayed with the man's blood, reminded him of Jamie, of how she was able to compartmentalize her emotions to take care of what needed doing. She had things in hand.
Connor looked around, trying to figure out what had happened, what had killed the man. He suddenly wished he had Aria there, to ask her what other creatures were out there. Between the ijiraq and now this, he suddenly felt an understanding as to why the Atharim were needed. At least, in regard to this. The realization made him sick- perhaps it was also all the blood and the man's entrails that hung slackly to the side of the man's torso.
Whatever it was, the thing was gone. He looked down at the body feeling a deep sadness. It was a torn piece of meat, a husk, the face now nearly white, the silent agony permanently etched on it. The girl had been sprayed with blood and got up to get a napkin to wipe off. The quiet in the room was deafening after the screams. He looked at the other man. Roughly the same age and build as himself. Connor's voice was soft but seemed loud in the emptiness. "Did it get you?"
The girl returned. "Either of you?"
His eyes scanned both of them....and noticed the tattoo on the man's arm. His eyes narrowed. Of course. The man carried no sword, though he suspected that swords were only one of many weapons Atharim must carry.
He looked the man directly in the eye, understanding finally coming. This man must have been the target. "What was that?"
But how safe? Jensen's words indicated that it might not have been enough. Still, it had felt good to do something, to make a difference, to save people. He realized that he hungered for that. He wanted his life to mean something, to matter. In the back of his mind, he imagined Hayden sat there, watching him, believing in him. He wanted his son to be proud of him.
He looked at Jensen. Hiss eyes were intense and earnest. He recognized it. The hunger to help, to do something. If Jensen needed his help, it was worth doing.
All trace of banter and joking was gone. "I'm in. You tell me what you need and I'm there."
He heard Charlie shift and wasn't sure what else to say. His getting involved was one thing. Involving Charlie, though....come to think of it, what about Ayden? The last time, he'd been shot. Yeah, it was by her.
But they had turned a corner. No secrets. He wouldn't hide this from her. In fact, she might be able to help. She had a unique set of skills. A smile tugged at his face as he brought out his wallet to text her-
At that moment a scream tore through the restaurant and his head swung in that direction. Everything seemed to move so fast. That man in the trench coat was being savaged by...something. Connor jumped to his feet even as he looked about the ceiling. Was it an ijiraq? He didn't see the tell-tale signs. He looked at Jensen for a moment- they had met fighting an ijiraq- and then he pushed through the now panicked restaurant guests as they scrambled for the exit. He had to get to the man to....he couldn't do anything. But he couldn't just run either. That wasn't who he was.
One of the men was standing with his badge trying to usher people and Connor slipped past him. That girl was on the ground calmly, trying to stop the blood gushing from the man's throat. Connor felt his insides clench at the sight. Had to be a nurse or something. The lack of hesitation despite getting sprayed with the man's blood, reminded him of Jamie, of how she was able to compartmentalize her emotions to take care of what needed doing. She had things in hand.
Connor looked around, trying to figure out what had happened, what had killed the man. He suddenly wished he had Aria there, to ask her what other creatures were out there. Between the ijiraq and now this, he suddenly felt an understanding as to why the Atharim were needed. At least, in regard to this. The realization made him sick- perhaps it was also all the blood and the man's entrails that hung slackly to the side of the man's torso.
Whatever it was, the thing was gone. He looked down at the body feeling a deep sadness. It was a torn piece of meat, a husk, the face now nearly white, the silent agony permanently etched on it. The girl had been sprayed with blood and got up to get a napkin to wipe off. The quiet in the room was deafening after the screams. He looked at the other man. Roughly the same age and build as himself. Connor's voice was soft but seemed loud in the emptiness. "Did it get you?"
The girl returned. "Either of you?"
His eyes scanned both of them....and noticed the tattoo on the man's arm. His eyes narrowed. Of course. The man carried no sword, though he suspected that swords were only one of many weapons Atharim must carry.
He looked the man directly in the eye, understanding finally coming. This man must have been the target. "What was that?"