[Hollows Fic] Return to the Hollows - Rachel/Ivy (7/11)

[jaina47]

Title: Return to the Hollows
Author(s): Jaina
Fandom: The Hollows aka Rachel Morgan aka that series by Kim Harrison
Characters: Rachel Morgan, Ivy Tamwood,
Genre: Drama, angst, romance
Summary: Rachel is always making mistakes. One day things go too far. Some mistakes can't be fixed or gone past. Some mistakes are lasting, and some have consequences that can change lives.
Disclaimer: All characters, and the universe that they go with belong to Kim Harrison. I'm just playing in the sandbox. No infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Goes through White Witch, Black Curse, although I don't think they're particularly glaring or massive.
Notes: My thanks to my beta for this one, infinitlight . She was awesome enough to look over this massive fic for me, and I really appreciate the time, effort and level of detail that she put into looking over this. Also the number of times that she had to uncapitalize were and warehouse. Sorry, dude. My bad.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six


Part Seven

Ducking to slip the strap of my bag across my chest, I took a deep breath before walking into the FIB headquarters with my head held high.  I was a runner - a damn good one - and they would show me the respect that I had earned.  Despite the many complications in my life, I was good at my job and a professional.  That was why Glenn had called me back here; I wanted to prove that he was absolutely right in doing so.

"I need to see Captain Glenn," I said to the petite woman sitting at the desk.

Even after all of these years I had half-expected it to be Rose, sitting there.  When the woman held up a finger as she turned to answer the phone, I caught a faint whiff of redwood that jerked my senses to attention.  The woman sitting in front of me was at least a warlock.  I wondered if the FIB knew or even if they cared these days.  I hoped that all she was doing was answering a phone though, because whether or not the FIB cared, the I.S. would not take kindly to her working for their human rivals.

I smiled. I couldn't help it.  Either way it took guts for a warlock to work for the FIB, and I couldn't help but like a woman with guts.  Her lips quirked as she finished her conversation and hung up the phone.  

"Thank you for your patience, Ms....." 

My smile grew just a little bit wider.  "Morgan. Rachel Morgan."

The look on her face changed instantly from one of polite attention, to recognition.  She knew my name.  Not surprising.  I had done more than a few things to land myself in the papers before I had left the Hollows.

"Ms. Morgan.  Captain Glenn said to send you back to the first conference room as soon as you got here.  He's waiting for you to begin."  

"Oh," I said, startled that Glenn had left instructions for me. This was going so much more smoothly than my previous FIB visits.  Maybe Glenn was waiting to start the pissing contests over turf and what exactly I would be allowed to do when I got there.  "Thank you."  I glanced around, at the much-changed surroundings.  "Could you point me in the right direction?"

"Of course," she said cheerfully, scribbling on something before she stood.  "Down the hall to your right. Third door on your left."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

She held a card out to me, and I took it without thinking as I turned to head down the hall.  It was only after I had taken a few steps that I looked at the card.  

It read "Claire Wallace, Administrative Assistant".  Below it was printed various contact numbers.  The cell number was circled in the bright pink sparkly pen that she had been using at her desk. I shook my head again at the ways the FIB had changed.  Rose would never have used a sparkly pink pen.  

It was a moment later before it occurred to me to flip the card over.  It read "Call me" in loopy letters.  I frowned and then flipped it back over as if the front would provide a further explanation.  She was either hitting on me, not an impossibility, or she wanted to tell me something that she didn't want her colleagues in the FIB to overhear.  Either possibility was full of complications, even if she just wanted to talk about what it was like to be a witch in human law enforcement.  

With a sigh, I shoved the card in my back pocket to be dealt with later.  There was no time like the present to procrastinate. 

I came to the door that I had been directed to and glanced through the small window.  Inside I caught a glimpse of a tight, dimly lit observation room.  Through there I could just catch sight of what was obviously a two way mirror and beyond that a table and chair where the were sat.

I gave the door a few quick raps with my knuckles and then let myself in.  I wasn't going to wait out in the hall like some errant schoolgirl.  

Glenn didn't seem to be upset when he saw me though, just beckoned for me to join him. 

"This is him?"  he asked. "We need an official confirmation of his ID before we can start asking him questions."

I shrugged.  "It was dark when he jumped me." From behind, with no warning.  I smirked when I caught a glimpse of his smashed nose.  "That certainly looks familiar though," I said, pointing to his damaged face.

Glenn laughed, actually laughed.  "Good enough for me.  Let's go."

I caught his arm. "Who are you and what have you done with Detective Glenn?"

Glenn shrugged and looked slightly bashful.  He couldn't quite meet my eyes.

"When I was a detective, I spent all my time following the rules to the letter."

I raised an eyebrow, thinking of a certain ketchup habit that I had helped to foster.

Glenn glared, but still managed to look slightly embarrassed.

"Well, almost all the rules."  He shook his head.  "When I got promoted to Captain, I realized that I was expected to be a stickler for the rules now, and I had missed my chance to break them all." He shrugged.  "Now when I have a chance to bend them a little, I take it."

I grinned and shook my head, playfully poking him in the shoulder.  "Captain Glenn, respected FIB officer, finally corrupted. I can't believe it."

Glenn glared.  "I could still throw you in lockup if you'd like, Morgan. I'm sure there's something in your past that was slightly questionable."

Instead of flinching as I might have once, I laid a hand over my heart and protested my innocence.  "Me?  Involved in questionable activities? Why, Captain Glenn, never!"  Okay, so maybe the Southern accent was a bit much.

Glenn just rolled his eyes. 

"Can we get back to the case?"

"Sure," I replied easily.  "Has he told you anything yet?"

Glenn shook his head.  "Nothing.  Not even his name.  We're running his prints right now to see if that comes up with anything, but we won't know for a while."

I took another look at the were on the other side of the two-way mirror, and started digging through my bag.  I kept a good supply of un-primed amulets most of the time and I knew there had to be one more truth amulet in here.  My hand closed over it triumphantly a moment later.  It didn't take me long to prick my finger, activate it, and slip it around my neck.  

I glanced over to see Glenn watching me with an steady smile. 

"What?"

He shook his head.  "Nothing.  You ready?"

"Absolutely."

***   ****   ***

"What's your name?"

Silence.  Well, a truth amulet wasn't going to do me much good if he wasn't saying anything at all.  Still, I had picked up a few things over the years.  I didn't have to just rely on magic.  I wasn't a one-trick witch.  

"It's only a matter of time, you know," Glenn said conversationally beside me.  "We're running your prints and I bet you already have a record.  Don't you think so, Rachel?"

I deliberately let my gaze rake up and down him. 

"Oh, yeah."  I went back to fiddling with my nails, but I kept a steady eye on him from underneath the edges of my long hair.  

A soft knock on the door startled me, but I didn't take my eyes off the guy across from me.  Glenn shot me a quick look and then went to answer the door.  He was scowling slightly at the interruption. As soon as he was out of sight, I leaned forward across the table, splaying my elbows out and propping my chin on my fingers.  I gave him a shit-eating grin.

"The FIB can't find their ass with both hands and a map."

The guy blinked in surprise; a corner of his mouth tugged up like he wanted to smile. 

"That's the good news," I continued.  "The bad news is..." I paused dramatically, working this for all it was worth.  "I'm not FIB.  My name is Rachel Morgan." 

His eyes widened slightly.  He knew me, all right.  Whether because he had specifically been sent there to hurt me or because my reputation preceded me, I didn't know.  But now I had leverage.  Occasionally, being a witch with a nasty reputation for dealing in demons and an aura covered in black smut came in handy, like when you needed to terrify someone for information. 

"So you know what I'll do if you don't answer my questions.  I'll give you a hint: It's not leave you alone in this room until you're bored out of your mind."

He blinked again and bit his lip.  He was about to crack. I could see it. I just needed to apply a little bit more pressure.

"Rachel."  Glenn's voice snapped me out of my tight focus.  

I shot the were one last dark look, before I turned to Glenn with a scowl of my own.  I had been close. Now I just might have to start over again, if this break gave him a chance to regroup. 

"What's up, Glenn," I asked, looking up at him.  

He didn't look annoyed at my scowl, just grim.  Oh, that wasn't good.

"We have another murder."

*** ***   ***

The ride down to the station was quiet since I had insisted on bringing my own car.  I didn't want to be stranded there until Glenn was ready to leave. I had learned a long time ago that I wasn't nearly patient enough to wait while Glenn jumped through bureaucratic hoops and attended to the minor details of a crime scene. This was especially true when I had already done everything that I could do and I was itching to go track down my next lead.

The scene was already busy when we got there, nearly overflowing with people.  I parked haphazardly near Glenn's car and watched the crowd for a minute.  It was a small, sleepy suburb on the Hollows side of the river.  Usually these neighborhoods were the quietest.  Murders didn't happen here, or if they did the FIB certainly wasn't called in. Something must have scared these people badly, or we wouldn't be here.

The late afternoon sun was fading, and the dull oranges and muted pinks of dusk were upon us.  Soon it would be full dark and this neighborhood would experience a sudden upswing in activity.  I wondered idly if tonight was a full moon. It might explain why those weres had been so aggressive today. I made a mental note to find out as I got out of the car.  Full moons were something I usually kept track of - it paid to stay well informed in my line of work - but I'd been pretty busy lately.

I could see Glenn, up by the line of the security tape.  He was standing with one hand on the tape and scanning the crowd, probably trying to see me.  I tried to push my way through the crowd with minimal fuss.  It wouldn't hurt to take a look at all of the people in the crowd.  Often the criminal was drawn to return to the scene of the crime for some voyeuristic look at the damage they had caused. 

"Hey, Glenn," I said softly, as I stepped up behind him.  

He jumped slightly, and shook his head as he held up the crime scene tape for me to step under. 

Turning to take one last look at the crowd, I froze, halfway bent over as I caught sight of a very familiar face.  What in the Turn was Ivy doing around here?  I had taken a step towards her before I brought myself to an abrupt stop.  I could ask her later, if it turned out to be important.  Not here, not now, not in front of all of these witnesses.  Besides, even if she did know something, there was no way that Ivy would be willing to talk with all of these people milling around.

"Rachel?"  Glenn questioned.

"Coming," I said softly, turning away with Ivy. 

Breaking eye contact with her felt almost like a physical loss. It had to be some effect of the binding between us, but it was one I had never heard of before.

The medical examiner was bent over a huddled form that I assumed was the body.  I was about to take a step towards the body when Glenn caught my elbow. 

"Uh, Rachel, I know I asked you to come look at this, but you don't actually have to look at the body."  He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and wouldn't look at me.  "You could just take a look at the scene, and tell us anything that you pick up from that."

My eyes narrowed.  "I appreciate the chivalry, Glenn, but this isn't my first body." 

He knew that.  He had shown me more than one or two himself, so what was the problem now?

Glenn stopped rubbing and stroked his hand over his goatee before he looked at me. 

"It's pretty bad, Rachel.  Worse this time than any of the others."

"I can handle it, Glenn," I said, a little bit more sharply than I had intended.  

What I needed was to see the body, not to have Glenn get all over-protective on me. 

"Fine," he said in a clipped voice, almost sounding hurt. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He let go of my arm and I brushed past him.  I almost wished I hadn't rushed past him as I rocked to a stop an instant later.  Glenn was right. It wasn't pretty. 

Blood was everywhere, so much of it that I was amazed it had all come from one person.  Even in the fading light, I could see that it had already turned dark, almost black.

After a minute, I forced myself to take a step closer and bend over.  I held my hand up without looking back.  A moment later Glenn slapped a flashlight into it.  I clicked the light on and fell back on my heels. I barely managed not to fall on my ass in the process.  Her torso was just so much raw meat.  It had been shredded, destroyed with an incredible amount of malice, by something very, very powerful.

I swallowed, looking down at the asphalt under my feet and trying not to see the blood all around, and took shallow breaths until I didn't feel like throwing up so much.  

Then I made myself look at her face.  It was mostly unblemished, except for the splattering of blood across her cheeks and forehead.  They were like gruesome freckles.  Her green eyes were widened as if in shock at the last thing that she had seen, whatever that might have been.  Her hair was a bright red, dyed, most likely.  It wasn't a shade found in nature. 

The urge to throw up was back.  I stood up and backed away, almost running into Glenn as I did. 

"He had something to do with this," I said without preamble.  

"Who?"  Glenn said in surprise.

"The guy you have locked up."

"Rachel, he couldn't have-"

I shook my head.  "He didn't actually do this. We know that, but he knows who did it or why they did it.  He knows something about it, though, and I'm going to find out what it is."

"I have to finish up here, so...."

"Do you mind if I talk to him?"

"Sure, I can have Frescetti go with you."

I shook my head. "Alone."

Glenn's eyes widened.  "Rachel, you can't-"

"Can't what, Glenn?"  I smiled bitterly.  "I promise I won't leave one mark on him. Well, not one more than I've already put on him."

Glenn shook his head, like he couldn't quite believe it.  His eyes flicked past me to the woman lying on the ground and then back. 

"Don't hurt him."

"Got it," I said sharply, already striding away, in a hurry to do this before Glenn changed his mind, or someone had a chance to do this again.  

***   ***   ***

When I walked into the interrogation room, the guy's head was down, resting on his arms.  From the sound of his slow, heavy breathing he was asleep.

I wanted to kick him.  He didn't deserve to catch a nap while that woman lay dead on the cold ground.  Mindful of my promise to Glenn, I slammed my hand down on the table as hard as I could. 

Turned out, that was pretty hard.  The fabricated wood cracked.

"Wake up!"  I snapped.  "Get up."

His head jerked up, and he fell back in his chair, so quickly that it tipped him back on the floor.  He scrambled to his feet as I stalked toward him.

"I am done playing around.  Tell me who you work for."

He was up against the corner now.  I could see the fear in his eyes, but he still kept his mouth shut.  I was starting to wonder if this guy could even talk. 

I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him towards me. 

"You know who I am?"  

His eyes widened gratifyingly. 

"You've heard the rumors that I deal in demons?"

He nodded, the first time that he had responded to me so far.  Good.  Now we were getting somewhere.

"Well, they were right."

I tapped a line.  It wasn't hard.  There was a major artery flowing right under FIB headquarters.  I wondered if they even knew.  It was a little bit harder, bringing a passenger. It had been years since I had done it, when I was practicing with Al, but I had learned a lot since then.  I was a much more skilled witch.  I concentrated, and we jumped.

The next instant I was sucking in an acrid breath of burnt amber, and too-dry air.  I shoved him away from me, and sent him staggering until he tripped over his own feet and fell.  He stared up at  me in shock.

"Welcome to the ever-after," I said, spreading my arms wide and inviting him to take in the scenery, such as it was.

Familiar, haunting wails echoed across the landscape.  With the fall of darkness, the minor demons who haunted the surface were just beginning to become active.  Soon they would start prowling for real. Anything left here when they arrived would not be alive for much longer.

"Are you insane?"

"What do you think?" 

He was shivering now.  His entire body shaking with fear, now that the reality of his situation had had a chance to sink in.  I squatted down, so that I could look into his eyes.  His breath was hot against my face and he was panting like he had just run a marathon.

"You're going to listen very carefully, because I'm about to offer you a chance to save your life.  You don't take my offer, I leave you here for those demons to catch up with you."  I didn't need to illustrate my threat any further.  His eyes widened even more, and he was already nodding.  

"Anything," he blubbered.  "I'll tell you anything you want to know, just take me back.  Please, take me back."

I shook my head slowly. "Not until you tell me what I want to know."

Another demon wailed, closer now.  I kept my attention focused solely on the Were in front of me.  

"Okay, okay," he said looking around wildly.  "My name is Mike Carter and my pack was hired to stop you.  My Alpha thought the warehouse would be a good place to rough you up and scare you a little so that you'd leave town."

Too simple, too easy.  And anyone who knew me well enough to send a pack of weres after me knew that a few minor scare tactics wouldn't work.

I dusted off my hands and took a step back.  "Well, I think you'll enjoy your time here - as short as it will be."  I faked a look of deep concentration, and hoped it didn't come out more like constipation. It wasn't like I spent hours practicing in front of a mirror.

"Wait, wait!  You said you would take me back."

I rolled my eyes.  "And you said you would tell me everything.  Guess which one of us lied?"

I caught motion out of the corner of my eye.  Not close, but definitely moving in our direction.  I stabbed a finger behind me. 

"See that?  That's a very hungry minor demon, who's spent centuries on the bottom of the demon hierarchy. You do not want to be here when he gets here.  This is your last chance."

He swallowed and went a shade of pale that looked especially unnatural in the odd light of the ever-after.

"It wasn't personal," he blurted out abruptly.  "My pack has nothing against you, Rachel Morgan.  My alpha was contacted to do a job, and the reward was something that he couldn't refuse."

"Details," I said sharply, deciding to focus on that later instead of pointing out just how personal this actually was.  "Who contacted your pack leader and what did they offer?"

He looked behind me again and for a moment I wasn't sure if he would answer.  He still looked terrified. 

"Promise me that you'll protect me." 

I looked at him like he was crazy.  "You tried to kill me this morning."

"You have to promise. Otherwise, he'll kill me." 

I gritted my teeth.  "The FIB will protect you to the best of their abilities."  Hopefully with you in a very protective jail cell, I thought, but did not say.

"Not the FIB," he said sharply.  "You.  You're the only one who can."  

I couldn't stall here.  I had pushed him as far as I could.  My only options were to actually torture him, which I wouldn't do, or to leave him here.  Neither would help me.

"Fine.  Now tell me."

"Trent Kalamack hired us in exchange for the location of the Focus, a statue that contains an ancient curse, that it's said will bring power back to the weres.  With it, the packs will quickly rise to prominence over vampires."

Idiot!  Could he not see that it would throw the entire world into a war?  Did he not even care?  I was so angry that for an instant I was tempted to leave him here.  I took two quick steps toward him and grabbed a handful of his shirt before I could change my mind. 

Comments

[dollfleshdecay.livejournal.com]

The cell number was circled in the bright pink sparkly pen that she had been using at her desk. I shook my head again at the ways the FIB had changed. Rose would never have used a sparkly pink pen.

It was a moment later before it occurred to me to flip the card over. It read "Call me" in loopy letters. I frowned and then flipped it back over as if the front would provide a further explanation. She was either hitting on me, not an impossibility, or she wanted to tell me something that she didn't want her colleagues in the FIB to overhear. Either possibility was full of complications, even if she just wanted to talk about what it was like to be a witch in human law enforcement.

*snicker* Oh, Rachel. Even after all those years she is still slightly oblivious. I liked how it took her a minute to figure out that she was hitting on her.

Okay, so maybe the Southern accent was a bit much.

This made me giggle.

I loved Ivy in the crowd, but I wish Rachel had talked to her. And I am enjoying the subtle layers on Glenn's character.

btw... is it just me, or does Trent remind you of Artemis Fowl a bit? (you may have no idea what I’m talking about if you’ve not read Eoin Colfer)

Great job! Can’t wait for part eight!

[jaina47.livejournal.com]

*snicker* Oh, Rachel. Even after all those years she is still slightly oblivious. I liked how it took her a minute to figure out that she was hitting on her.

It's possible I had too much fun throwing that in. :D

btw... is it just me, or does Trent remind you of Artemis Fowl a bit? (you may have no idea what I’m talking about if you’ve not read Eoin Colfer)

I've heard of it, but I haven't read it. Good?

[dollfleshdecay.livejournal.com]

It's possible I had too much fun throwing that in. :D

*grin*

I've heard of it, but I haven't read it. Good?

Artemis Fowl is an excellent series. I've read them all. The age that he markets to is a bit younger then the Hollows, but Artemis ages in the series. Eion Colfer is a very talented writer. He has wonderful plots and ties everything together quite nicely, along with a healthy dose of character development too. Plus, he's Irish.

The main protagonist is a boy billionaire genius who is a lot like Trent, but better. He’s got a bodyguard rather like Quen, named Butler, who is like his best friend. And Holly Short, a spunky fairy. Artemis is rather interesting because he is an anti-hero, but still remains likable to the reader, and you don't really see that in genre fiction. Most fantasy authors stick to the Mary Sues, but he doesn’t. you can read more about it on wiki