A Scripta

They pulled into the garage. Billy had called ahead and a woman was inside the garage holding a small first-aid kit. The woman nodded to Dmitrius, "Welcome back, sir," she said and attended to Billy.

Dmitrius nodded. "I'll get your bags, sir," said Billy, while the woman took Billy's hand away from his neck to assess the damage. "You can go right in."

He went up a set of stairs and opened the door at the top of it. They found themselves facing a small hallway. Dmitirus took Kalius by the waist and guided him inside. "Don't worry. Rowena's the only resident Kindred."

They walked out of the hallway into a two-floored foyer. Kalius knew his jaw dropped because he heard himself close his mouth with a "clack". It was decorated in dark red mahogany wood along the pillars and off-white walls. Another woman came in. "Dimitrius!" She hugged him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You're back!"

"Visiting," he said with a smile. "Marie, this is my fiance, Kalius."

The lithe woman smiled at Kalius and offered her hand. "It's good to meet you. Come inside, Rowena's home."

"Will you be sleeping together?"

"No," Dmitrius said.

"Yes," Kalius countered.

They looked at each other. Dmitrius smiled gently and turned to him. "We sleep in a vault downstairs. It's not like Havens where I can sleep in your bed."

"Then I'll sleep with you downstairs."

"It's air tight." Dmitrius caressed his lover's face gently, and Kalius put his hand on top of his. "I need you here during the day, beloved."

"All right." He didn't look too happy about it.

"She's upstairs in the theater," she said, and took their bags up the spiral stairs. They followed. The closer they got, Kalius could hear voices. They walked past the foyer's hallway to another room, where he could distinctly hear the dialogue of the movie, Casablanca. Dmitrius opened the door and they were immediately assaulted by how loud it was.

A woman with flaxen blond hair, dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, sat caressing the head of a young man on her lap. She would take his arm and lift his wrist to her lips, her eyes still glued to the huge plasma screen TV, then bite. The young man flinched, and the woman sucked once, as if she was sipping soda.

"Hello Rowena," Dmitrius said.

She touched a remote on the chair, and the sound stopped suddenly. "Dimitrius, dear!" She pushed aside the young man and got up. The frame on the screen froze as she bounded over and kissed Dmitrius in continental fashion. "And this is Kalius?"

He smiled, "Yes. Erastes, this is Rowena, one of my best friends since the Inquisition."

"He saved me," she said to Kalius. "Has he told you?"

"No," Kalius looked up at Dmitrius and smiled.  "Though I believe it."

"I have owed him my life ever since. And he is a dear, dear friend in these troubled times."

He showed Kalius to one of the couches and sat next to him, holding his hand. "Alex," Rowena said to the young man, "Go fetch Louis and tell him Dimitrius and his lover are here." The young man nodded and left the room. "Did you have a good flight?"

"The flight was fine, it was leaving the airport that was a problem. Your ghoul was shot."

She frowned. "We chased the Sabbat off your property. You have Josef to thank for that."

"Remind me to thank him properly." The door opened and two young men came in, one carrying a tray of finger sandwiches and a small carafe of coffee. He set the tray down on the coffee table in front of Kalius, and turned to face Dmitrius, and passed a hand over his neck. Dmitrius looked up at him. "I'm all right."

Rowena smiled, and waved her hand in dismissal. Kalius assumed that was Louis, and watched him leave, though the young man looked slightly dejected. Alex returned to his mistress' side, and Kalius picked up a chicken salad sandwich. "Tomorrow night, Dimitrius, Kalius, we will go to Highland Village."

"I should present myself to the Prince," he said.

"Why?" she asked. "You are my guest. Do you think I can't provide you with vitae?"

"I would not want--"

Rowena gave him a look. "Dimitrius, let me entertain you like I used to do."

Dmitrius smiled and sat back, putting an arm around Kalius. Kalius relaxed, leaned into his lover. "I'll call him instead." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. With his arm still around Kalius, he spoke quickly. "Just tell him I'm in town, I'm staying with Rowena for the week. I'll be fine. Okay, George, see you." He hung up the phone.

Rowena nodded. "George will tell him. I want to finish the rest of the movie."

"Of course." He hugged Kalius close. Rowena turned the volume down, and they watched the movie.

((See floor plans of Rowena's haven.))

They chased the darkness into Houston. Dmitrius wanted to get to Houston at a reasonable hour, and the plane touched down at the George Bush Intercontinental Airport at ten p.m. The two men went through security without an issue, and were waiting for their bags when Dmitrius turned to Kalius and spoke in their native tongue. "Old enemy standing at door two, the security guard."

Kalius passed his eyes over the area and noted the man, tall, gaunt, sunglasses, in a security guard's uniform. He didn't even look like he was breathing, he stood so still. Dmitrius and Kalius picked up their bags, and then Dmitrius turned to door two. Kalius said, "Reinforcements," noting four more men behind him.

"Behind," replied Dmitrius. Kalius passed an eye behind them to see two more men.

They started walking toward door two, not directly looking at the security guard. They got past him, and were quickly flanked by him and his friends. Dmitrius watched their reflection in a window as they passed by, the two men in front pulling their suitcases followed by half a dozen men in security guard outfits. Although it was late in the airport, there were still too many people around to get into a fight.

In the terminal itself, a few people were gathered to pick up passengers. Dmitrius scanned them and saw a black man in a suit coming toward them. He nodded to Kalius, and then went to greet the man. They shook hands warmly. Dmitrius turned to Kalius. "This is Billy McCain, he's a driver for Rowena. Billy, this is Kalius."

Kalius shook Billy's hand. Billy nodded to him.

"Sabbat still in control outside the airport?"

"Yeah," Billy said, and took their bags. "They let me in without a problem. Maybe they're busy."

Dmitrius nodded behind him. "Not really."

Billy met the security guards' eyes, and they melted away. He started walking to the front door of the terminal. Dmitrius asked, "So is there anything I should be aware of?"

"Rumors of your demise." Billy smiled at him. "They thought your sudden retirement was brought on by torpor."

Kalius knew that meant a sort of sleep that some vampires put themselves in, where they could sleep for centuries and not awaken. Most of the time they did it to heal from grievous wounds. Sometimes they did it out of boredom.

"Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated," Dmitrius said as they walked out the doors.

"Noted, sir."

They went to a black Cadillac sedan, and Billy tossed the luggage in its ample trunk. Kalius noted that he handled the heavy luggage easily, so realized that he was probably a ghoul - a human with some vampire blood in him. Dmitrius explained that the human would be utterly devoted to the vampire, would do anything for him, and in return he would get some of the vampire's abilities in a lesser manner and only temporarily.

Dmitrius and Kalius climbed into the back seat. Billy got in. "Buckle up, I saw a couple of packs on my way in. They might not want to let us out."

The two men did what he said, and Billy eased out of the parking space. He stopped to pay his way out of the garage, and suddenly a couple of cars appeared before them. "DOWN!" Billy yelled, as some people jumped out of the cars. Kalius didn't see what they were doing, but Dmitrius grabbed him and pulled him down on the seat, covering him with his own body.

Billy gunned the car and peeled forward. People jumped out of the way - he deftly wove between the cars and used the sidewalk, barely missing a bus stop and plowing through the redlight, heading out to the main road. There wasn't much traffic at this time of night, luckily, and he roared through the main streets.

The rear window exploded, covering Dmitrius and Kalius in glass. Kalius could swear he heard gunshots. "Shit," Billy spat, and pushed the car to 90, tearing down the main road, ignoring red lights, heading to the highway. Dmitrius got up, shedding glass, smelling blood. He risked a glance at Kalius, but it wasn't his blood he smelled.

Billy had one hand on his neck, the blood flowing between his fingers. He glanced in the rear view mirror at Dmitrius. "I'll be okay. Need to get you to the haven."

Dmitrius, although he had fed and was satiated, licked his lips at the sight of the red fluid flowing from his neck. He took Kalius' hand to reassure himself that he didn't need the blood, that there was something more important to concentrate on.

Kalius let out a breath. "You always get this kind of welcome home?"

"Actually," Dmitrius said with a small smile, "Yes."

Grim was walking by the babies’ room and got assaulted by a vision in his mind of ...wetness.

He stopped at the door, and peered into the room. Anwen was right at the bars of the crib, her brother on the other side, sleeping peacefully. Anwen looked at him with those blue eyes of hers, and drew Grim right in. “What’s up?”

The vision in his mind was something he had sworn he would absolutely, positively never do. He stared at her. “I have never changed a diaper in my life and I don’t plan on starting now.”

Her face suddenly fell into a pout, and seemed to be a step away from a full cry.

“Wait, wait…Oh, hell.” Grim went closer. He looked at the diaper table, looked at Anwen, still with that pleading in her eyes. He sighed, bent down and picked her up by her armpits. He looked down at her very large diaper.

“What’d you do, have a Big Gulp?” He carried her at arm’s length and set her on the dressing table. He studied the make-up of this diaper contraption. It had two tabs on the sides, so he figured he’d undo those. Then he pulled the front down.

He jerked his head back. “Jesus.” He put the front back on her. Grim looked around for heavy-duty gloves. Not seeing any, he did catch the baby wipes on the dresser. Pulling out about a dozen, he lined them up next to her. He looked at her, and said, “All right, I’m going in!”

Quickly he pulled the front of her diaper down, and tried to figure out how to get her butt out of it. He knew if he wiggled the diaper off, it would make more of a mess. He covered his hand in the baby wipe and lifted her butt gently first on one side, and then the other. He pulled the diaper away, and pinched it between his fingers, tossing it into the basket. “Uck.”

Anwen gurgled. Grim used the baby wipes he had lined up – and more – wiping her down. Now she looked and smelled much better.

Anwen sent him the image of a diaper, and he said, “I know, I know, I gotta find one – oh here.” He pulled out a diaper and held it up. He looked at its length, looked at her, then at the diaper again. He glanced at the trash but didn’t dare go back in it to get an idea of how it could be placed. “Where’s the front of this thing?” He turned it over and over in his hands. “Well, I guess I put your butt in and hope for the best.” He put the diaper together, and then shoved her legs through the holes, pulling the diaper up. He lifted her by the diaper's waist, and pulled it up nice and tight.

“There we go. Pain in the ass these diapers are.” He put her down, and saw that Caden was awake. Grim’s phone went off – loud. “Yeah, yeah…Wait, not you too?”

The phone kept going off. “Shit…” He picked up Caden by the armpits also and brought him to the dressing table. The phone stopped, and Grim sighed. He undid the diaper, and pulled down the front, preparing for the worst. At least he didn’t have to deal with a mess this time.

“Don’t pee on me, don’t pee on me…” Grim worked quickly, using almost half the box of baby wipes. Caden grinned, and Grim said, “Yeah, you’re thinking about it, but you have an empty bladder, ha ha.” Grim put together the diaper again, feeling like an old pro at this now, and shoved Caden’s legs through, lifting him up like he had done his sister. “There! All clean and happy baby.”

He turned and put Caden back in the crib. He rearranged the pillows like he had seen Raina do. He gave them runes of unicorns and pegasi to watch, and then turned to the door.

To see Raina and Jack standing there, grins on their faces.

“You saw nothing,” Grim said, shoving by them, going into the hallway.

Dean Joseph Griffin looked up at the soft knock on the doorframe. A short, bald man, dressed all in brown and tans, peered into his office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Dean Griffin raised his head and studied the man. He looked to be about his mid-thirties, was bald, with piercing grey eyes. He seemed well-built but short. “Yes, Dr. Thontius, please come in.”

Thontius went in and closed the door. Griffin still watched him as he sat down. “Okay, Doctor, I have no idea who you are.”

The man chuckled. “Professor Harrison asked me to step in for him while he’s ill.”

“He didn’t ask me. You’re not even on the payroll, and no where do I see your name on the faculty list.”

“Oh?” Thontius looked surprised. “Then what do you need to know? You can take a look at my Facebook page, my resume is there.”

Griffin blinked. “A Facebook page?”

Thontius tilted his head. “Doesn’t everyone have one?”

“No.” Griffin folded his arms. “I assume your doctorate is in history?”

“University of Athens, 1999, specialty in Greco-Roman Influence in War and Culture.”

“You don’t have an accent.”

“I’ve been here for close to 10 years, lecturing here and there, so I’ve lost it for the most part. I’m published in Military History of the West, American Journal of History, Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies, Journal of Interdisciplinary History—“

“Okay, I’ll assume they’re on that Facebook page?”

“Yes, links to my articles are there.”

Griffin couldn’t understand this. He had heard of other professors calling in substitutes for one or two classes, and they would do it gratis, but for an entire semester? And undergraduate basic world history, when this man was obviously an established professor of ancient history?

Griffin sighed. “I did hear your lecture on Alexander the Great.” Thontius opened his lecture with the statement, “Alexander the Great was gay and a drunk” which grabbed everyone’s attention right from the get-go. He then proceeded to explain things in detail in a story-tale fashion, writing down the sources on the board as he went along. He explained how natural and normal it was for homosexuality between military men and how normal it was for Macedonians to have all-night drinking parties at that time. He compared it to modern values and made it seem that the modern view was skewed. “However, you didn’t touch upon the textbook.”

“They can read the book. That’ll be on the exams.”

Griffin had been burnt out by teaching undergraduate history and was more than happy to pass it on to professors newly entered into graduate school. This guy was a doctorate. Had been at it for years. And wasn’t burnt?

“I guess it seems all right,” Griffin muttered.

The man smiled. “You’re not paying me, right? I’ve done this many times before.”

“We must follow the undergraduate curriculum, Dr. Thontius.”

“Sure, on the exam. My lectures, though, don’t have to.”

“Are your lectures on the exam?”

“Of course.”

“That will get them confused."

"It will keep them intersted."

"Dr. Thontius, your job is not to get them interested in history but to get them through this class.”

He smiled again. “You never know, there may be a couple of budding historians there, or at least a few buffs.” He got up. “Take a look at the Facebook page when you get a chance, that might alleviate your fears. And email the other colleges I’ve worked for, their contact information is there too.” He nodded to Griffin. “Have a nice day, nice to have met you.”

Griffin watched him leave, slightly confused. “Well, might as well take a look at it.” He signed onto Facebook, and searched out the name of Erik Thontius. A picture of a Greek postage stamp of the first King of Athens greeted him in a small square. He clicked around, found the articles and other schools he had worked for, all around the country and in Canada. His last placement was in Yale as a guest lecturer on Greco-Roman weapon construction. There was a picture of him with a portable forge, making spearheads.

Griffin tapped his fingers on his chin as he did when he was thinking. There was no harm to the university to have this man here; in fact, it could be positive. But he seemed to want to skirt under the radar for some reason. The page linked to critics as well, but there was nothing more scathing than the possible misinterpretation of some Latin sources, which was typical of nitpicking historians.

“Doctor?” paged through his administrative assistant, “you have a call.”

He took the call, and promptly forgot about Dr. Erik Thontius.

Grim was halfway down the hall when he heard Dmitrius, “Grim, can I talk to you?”

Grim stopped and turned around. “Well, aren’t I the popular guy tonight.” He walked back toward Dmitrius. “What’s up? How’s Kal?”

“Good, considering.”

“Yeah, he actually let me go early. What can I do for you?”

“We’re going to Texas next week. He needs to have his weapons, and you know they won’t let him take them on the plane.”

Grim smiled. “Yeah, I don’t think they’d be happy seeing some guy with a gladius boarding their plane.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“Come with me.”

Dmitrius followed Grim past the children’s room, to Grim’s room. Grim opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a purple velvet pouch. He handed it to Dmitrius. “There are four crystals. Put them at the four compass points, and they’ll create a teleportation anchor. Then give me a call and I’ll send the weapons to him.”

Dmitrius hefted the bag. “We appreciate this.”

“All his magic’s gone?”

Dmitrius nodded sadly.

Grim looked at Dmitrius. “Can’t you give him your blood?”

Dmitrius shook his head. “It will make him addicted to it and to me. It’s called being ghouled. He’ll be like a devoted servant. I don’t want to force him to love me.”

Grim considered. “Is your blood magic?”

“It can be used for that, yes.”

“Do you know how?”

“I do not.”

“Hmm...I have a couple of ideas.”

Dmitrius peered at him. “What are you thinking, mage?”

“Good old fashioned blood magic.” He turned from Dmitrius. “Let me sleep on it.” He went into his room, and gently closed the door. Dmitrius shrugged, tossed the bag absently in his hand, and headed back to his and Kalius’ room.

Dr. Edward Feinstein looked at his appointments for the day and tilted his head in confusion. “Patty, I don’t remember scheduling an assessment for this morning.”

“Your first four patients cancelled on Friday and this was flagged as an emergency case,” she said.

“Don’t you think that’s unusual that they all seem to cancel for a four-hour block of time?”

Patty, usually pretty much on the ball, looked up at the doctor. “No…?”

“Did you see them yet?”

“Nobody’s come in yet.”

He nodded and headed off to his office. He had to pass by the waiting room, and he peeked in. A man in a black trench coat sat with a little blond-haired girl who looked about nine or ten. Feinstein glanced at his appointment sheet. The blond-haired girl looked around and caught his eye. “Grim!” she said, and tugged the man’s sleeve.

The man called Grim looked up at the doctor. “Are you Dr. Feinstein?”

“Yes, are you…” He looked at his appointment sheet. The assessment was for a Rorri Starkweather and the contact person was Michael Labonte. “Mr. Labonte?”

“I am,” he said. The little girl stared at him in disbelief.

“Just give me a minute. I wasn’t expecting an assessment this morning so I don’t have everything set up.”

“No problem.”

He went back to his office. Grumbling, he got out the forms and games that he would use to assess her IQ and psychological profile. He hated doing Monday morning assessments. His mind usually wasn’t clear enough from the weekend to do it properly. He took a form for the child to fill out and went back to the waiting room.

“You’re Rorri?” he said, getting down to her level.

She looked at him, keeping her gaze steadily on him to the point it was uncomfortable. She didn’t say anything for a long while. Finally, after a good two minutes of this, she said, “Yeah.”

He got up, slightly disturbed, and looked at Lebonte. “Do you mind if I take Mr. Lebonte into my office to answer some questions?”

She shrugged. Feinstein looked at Lebonte, who got up. “Don’t destroy anything.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Oh, can you fill this out?” He handed her the form and a pencil. She looked at it, looked up at him, and then bent her head to the form.

“Mr. Lebonte.”

“Call me Grim.”

“I’m sorry?”

“A nickname.”

“Oh.” He wondered if that was indicative of this man’s mood. They sat down in his office, and Grim proceeded to weave a tale that he had never thought possible in all his years of psychiatry. She was a clone, created by a madman to be used as a weapon – to be constantly used as a weapon. She was a shape changer, regenerated almost instantly, and had grown up pretty much without a parent or guardian in her first nine years of life. She’d never gone to school. Never had a normal childhood.

This was beyond Feinstein’s expertise, and he knew it. However, all Grim seemed to want was a basic assessment, IQ, psychological issues. He believed they were “legion” in his words. “I want to know what I’m dealing with,” he said.

Feinstein sat back. “I can do that, but as for treatment…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Feinstein looked at Grim. “Do you feel she’s in need of treatment?”

“Certainly,” he said. “But, believe me, she’s not your average patient.”

They rose together, and went to get her. She had filled out the form and sat tapping the pencil and her hand on the arm of the couch in a beat, adding sound effects. Label one: ADHD.

“Ready, Rorri?”

“Uh huh!” She jumped up, and walked by Grim.

“Be nice to the good doctor,” Grim said, and sat down on the couch.

Feinstein said, “This will take about four hours.”

“No, it won’t.” Grim pulled out a book from his coat and put his feet up on the couch, settling in to read. He looked at Rorri and winked. She giggled, and followed the doctor to his office.

Two hours later, the doctor returned, haggard. Grim looked at the clock on the wall. “Wow, you did better than I thought. I thought you would have brought her back an hour ago.”

“Mr. Lebonte,” he said, forcing himself to be calm. “Rorri needs to be…inpatient.”

Grim looked at Rorri and smiled. Rorri smiled back. “I answered all his questions. You told me to be honest.”

“I know you did, and that’s good.” He looked up at the doctor. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. Did you at least get through the battery of tests?”

“Most of them, but when she started talking about where to put bombs to blow up Galaxy City, we stopped right there.”

“I want to know her IQ.”

“It’ll take some time to score it—“

“We’ll wait right here.”

“More than—“

Grim looked up at him. “If you start now, she won’t get impatient and start wandering around the hospital. You really don’t want that.”

Feinstein never scored an IQ and psychological assessment so fast in his life. As he did it, he knew this girl’s treatment was beyond him. He picked up the phone and called the only two physicians who had worked with disturbed mutants in the hospital. He explained the situation, and they both actually rushed right down, something that surprised even him.

Felicia Goduti was a mutant herself, with the ability to walk through walls. Also a mutant was Dr. David Bostrom, a small wiry man who could build himself up to a huge bulk by using the air of the area. Feinstein saw Bostrom in the waiting room, while Goduti he met in the hallway. He showed her the scoring thus far, and she nodded. “To be expected,” she said, and went to the waiting room.

Bostrom was talking intently to Rorri. “You don’t feel the need to hurt yourself?” Feinstein noted he had left off the “or others” that usually went with that question.

“Why should I?” she asked.

Bostrom looked up at the entrance of the other two people. He looked at the scoring and also nodded. “Well?” Grim asked.

“Her IQ is off the charts,” said Goduti

Rorri beamed. Grim also did.

“But she has a multitude of psychological disorders, and we’re not done with the testing yet.”

“ADD is but one of them,” said Bostrom. “That’s the most severe. She really should be brought in for more testing.”

"What do you have so far?"

"Bipolar, ADD, conduct disorder..."

“That's what I figured,” said Grim. “I would much rather she continue outpatient.”

“I’m sorry, but we may have to commit her without your permission.”

“Commit me?” Rorri looked horrified. Grim stood up, put a hand on her shoulder.

“That won’t happen,” he reassured her. “Thank you for your time.”

Then they both disappeared.

Feinstein realized he wasn’t holding onto any paper any more, and saw dust on his hands, and a small pile on the floor. The doctors looked at each other. “Your documentation,” said Bostrom, and the three doctors almost ran to Feinstein’s office. On his desk were small piles of grey dust. He checked on his computer – her name had been erased from the appointment program, and his other patients who he hadn’t seen were replaced there.

Feinstein looked up at the doctors. They both sighed. “You were dealing with a wizard,” said Bostrom. “Do you remember his name?”

“LeBon…no.”

“Dammit.”

Feinstein said looking confusedly at Bostrom and Goduti, “Why did I call you in here, again?”

"You are an idiot!"

Ares, with a small smile, examined his gauntlets. Athena looked so impotent when she was mad.

"Do you realize what you've done?"

"I'm teaching him a lesson. I'm reminding him who his master is."

Athena threw her hands up in frustration. "You don't think!"

"That's not my job, it's yours." He gave her an insolent grin.

Athena looked around for something to hit him with. There was nothing but trees and flowers. She could use that...She put her hands through her hair, and Ares, still grinning, watched her. "Ares," she said patiently, as if to a child, "They have a dagger that can kill you."

"They have to get here, first."

"They have a guide, you fool! The mage!"

"The mage?" He looked confused.

"The mage."

Ares blinked, and looked thoughtful.

"You really don't pay attention to your charges and their lives, do you?"

"So long as he serves me, I don't care."

Athena glared at him. "Well, I do. You have tortured him enough. And to threaten to take away what he's worked so hard for--"

"Ha! That was brilliant of me. He wanted a reason to fight, so I gave him one."

"Just as you have all these years." Athena crossed her arms. "I'm going to right your wrongs. Again."

"What do you plan on doing?"

"I'm going to help him, since you won't."

"He's my servant. You can't take him away from me."

"Your deal with him is over, Ares. He's found his lover, am I right? I'm sure that we can discuss this with father."

"You wouldn't."

"Dare me?"

Ares watched her. She most certainly would, as she was still well-loved by him. He was already on Zeus' bad side. She smiled sweetly at him, turned on her heel with military precision, and walked away.