"Beginnings and Endings"
Prologue THEN Deborah Dancer yawned as she stretched in her chair. It had been years since her adventures with Andrew Bennett, and the years were beginning to catch up with her. She had used the knowledge she had acquired in their hunt for Mary, Queen of Blood and her Cult of the Blood Red Moon to become a successful horror novelist. She pushed back from her computer and rubbed her eyes. She smiled. “Late nights used to be easier,” she thought. Her eyes went wide as a familiar figure was reflected in the window. She didn’t even have time to scream as a hand shot out and slammed her head through her computer monitor. With blood streaming from her face, she fell to the floor. She slowly rolled over and tried to crawl away as terror etched itself across her features. “It can’t be you,” were her final words as her attacker advanced and seized her. The next night, the moon shone bright and clear in the sky. Red eyes scrutinized a newly-purchased newspaper. “Horror Writer Murdered!” read the headline. “Deborah,” Andrew Bennett whispered. Sadness filled his features as he remembered the old days when Deborah Dancer and Dmitri Mishkin had accompanied him as he had chased Mary, Queen of Blood around the globe. The adventures had ended when Mary was destroyed, however, due to a serum he had ingested, he was now truly immortal. He slowly walked down the sidewalk as he read the article. He finally saw a picture and his eyes shot wide open. “It cannot be,” he murmured. He threw the newspaper into a nearby garbage can and started running down the street. He had to get to the mortuary. The mortuary was easy enough to gain access to. To be honest, if you could transform your body into mist like Bennett could, most places were easy to enter. The mist reformed in a filthy restroom and Bennett strode out and down the hallway toward the freezer room. No one challenged him as he walked toward the room, even without his needing to control their minds. He just acted like he belonged there and people ignored him. Finally he entered the autopsy room. A quick mental command convinced the coroner he needed to forget seeing Bennett and make a phone call instead. Bennett quickly flipped through the various file folders lying on a counter and finally found the one labeled Dancer, D. He hurried to the indicated drawer and pulled it open. He pulled the sheet back and saw Deborah’s face. He gasped as he saw her throat. To the untrained eye, it looked as if it had been gashed open. Bennett, however, knew better. The remorseful look on his face was replaced by one of urgency. He leaned closer and studied the area over her jugular vein. His eyes narrowed as he discovered the two carefully-camouflaged punctures in the vein. A quick check of her teeth showed that she had not been turned, only drained. Bennett gave Dancer’s body a quick peck on the forehead before he replaced the sheet and closed her drawer. A moment later, the cloud of mist had departed through the air-conditioning system. The mist reappeared as it seeped under the sealed door of the crime scene that had been Deborah Dancer’s apartment. A moment later Bennett stood there. He slowly surveyed the apartment, focusing in on the blood-spattered floor where her body had been found. His eyes narrowed as he carefully looked over the desk and open window. He eased the desk’s drawer open and quickly scanned its contents. His eyes went wide as he discovered a file folder labeled Mary. His shock at this was nothing compared to what he found when he read the contents. NOW Bette Kane looked around as she taped shut the final box. Her room in the former Titans West headquarters had been cleaned out, and all of its contents packed into the boxes that now surrounded her. A knock at the door grabbed her attention. She turned and saw Paco Ramone standing there. “You almost done?” he asked. “I’m starting to need supper.” Bette glanced at her watch and winced when she realized how much time had passed. “Sorry,” she apologized. “It took longer than I’d thought it would.” She laid down her tape gun. “We can pick these up later.” She walked out and carefully closed the door behind her. “How’re you doing?” Paco asked as they walked through the deserted complex. “I know that these guys have been a big part of your life for a long time.” “It’s not easy,” Bette admitted. She stepped into the old conference room and looked inside. The table had been covered with a sheet and all of the chairs were covered as well. “It never is.” ”Chica,” Paco said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know. I’ve been a member for a long time, too.” He stayed in the doorway as Bette walked into the room and lightly ran her hand over the covered table. “You know,” Paco said, “if you want to we can cancel this road trip. Jason’s still around, and we could probably find Dagon, Risk, and Captain Marvel Jr., too. If you want to, we can try and put things back together again.” Bette turned to look at him. “That’s sweet of you to say,” she said. “It just wouldn’t be right without Gar here.” At the mention of his name, tears filled her eyes. “We’d need Gar and Tara back.” An instant later Paco’s arms were around her. “I know, chica,” he whispered. He held her a moment. “Are you all right?” Bette nodded and stepped back. “As all right as I can expect, I suppose,” she said. She wiped her eyes. “I’ve just got to keep moving.” Paco motioned around the empty room. “That’s why I think it’s good you’re taking this trip to Opal. It’ll give you a chance to get away and get your mind off things.” ”Wrong,” Bette said, smiling once again. “It’ll give us a chance to get away. At least once you finish visiting your family in Detroit.” Paco jumped as someone else entered the room. “You could at least do that in the privacy of your own room,” the familiar cold voice said. “Dagon?” Bette asked. “I thought you’d already be gone.” “Gone where?” the vampire asked. “It’s dark and quiet here, which makes it perfect for me.” ”I thought Mal was closing the place up,” Paco said. Dagon smiled, exposing his fangs. “He can’t close up every ventilation shaft here. That’s all I need.” “If you say so,” Paco said. He looked around. “It is kind of quiet down here, doesn’t it? I never noticed it before.” ”You were too busy blasting your Bananarama records,” Bette noted. “That’s good stuff!” Paco protested. “And besides, my Alan Parsons Project albums hadn’t come in yet.” “It’s much better than the music where I came from,” Dagon said. “There are only so many ways you can praise Lord Chaos before it starts getting old.” “Dagon?” Bette asked. “Was that a joke?” ”Maybe,” Dagon said. His smile was the last thing she saw as he transformed into a shadow and disappeared. “Old Spooky’s got a sense of humor,” Paco said. “I can’t believe it.” Bette smiled. “I know. We’ve all changed from our time on the team. Maybe we helped him learn to open up and have fun.” ”Maybe,” Paco said as they left the empty meeting room behind and started toward the hidden exit that led into the Blue Note’s management office. “Couldn’t hurt.” Bette stepped through the hidden doorway and turned back to Paco. “So what sounds good for dinner?” Paco patted his back pocket. “Not much,” he admitted. “I left my wallet downstairs.” Bette shook her head. “Nice try,” she said. “But you’re not getting out of paying that easily.” Paco shrugged and started back down the stairs. Neither he nor Bette noticed the mist seeping past them into the base. Down below, Dagon’s eyes snapped open as a chill ran down his spine. He recognized the feeling. He’d only experienced it once before, when he had run across a group of other vampires. His eyes narrowed as he remembered the trouble that they had caused. His muscles tensed as he slowly slid open the lid of his coffin. “Got it!” Paco said, holding the wallet aloft. Bette came to the door of his room. ”All right,” she said. She glanced at her watch. “Well, we’re not going to be able to get into most places. Want to go upstairs and see what Mal’s got on the menu tonight?” “Sure,” Paco said. “I’m set if you are.” As he and Bette turned to leave, a snarling Dagon appeared before them in the hallway. “Oh, man, he’s going all Dracula on us!” Paco yelled. Bette ignored him. “Dagon, what’s wrong?” she asked. “Where is he?” Dagon demanded. “Who?” Bette asked. “There’s no one here but me and Paco.” Dagon shook his head. “No.” He looked back into the hall. “There’s someone else.” Bette and Paco followed as Dagon stalked into the meeting room. A man stood there, studying the paintings of Titans West team members on the wall. Dagon snarled and bared his fangs. Andrew Bennett turned around. “So I was correct. Mary has created more of us. Prepare for destruction.” To Be Continued... Next Issue: It’s Dagon vs. Andrew Bennett! And what will happen when Mary strikes again? Previous Issue | Next Issue |
