The Relic

[Isabella Rastafari]

*The wind blew harshly across the desert, causing the sand to become a living, breathing entity. This sand storm was capable of tearing the flesh from any exposed limb, while choking any crevice that it rapidly filled. Brant Daniels instructed his team to seek shelter within the ruins until the wind died down, but even as they scurried back inside, he feared that the wind would only get worse. Something had happened when he had found the Relic, he had felt it reverberate deep throughout his entire being. A kind of… shift. Judging by the nervous glances of his team mates, he suspected that they had all felt the same thing. Still, he had taken the Relic, retrieving it from its hiding place within the mummified corpse of its ancient guardian, and raising it up to the light of the fading sun to examine it closer.

Although shadows threatened to consume the inner sanctuary of the tomb, a few large cracks in the stone ceiling above provided just enough sun light to filter into the darkened chamber, illuminating the Relic enough for Brant to perform a thorough inspection. The fading light shone against the dark red ruby eye of the snake that seemed to be carved from someone or some things bone. A bleached, mottled white, the snakes body was covered in intricate carvings and sigils, its coiled body grasping a somewhat hollow prize of what appeared to be nothing more than air. As he held it up higher to examine the underneath of the relic, he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt the snake move, its body uncoiling enough to slide down his hand, before it began to tighten around his wrist. Even as he moved quickly to pry the snake off his wrist, the feelings of rage, power and an overwhelming sense of evil washed over him in sickening waves. As if it sensed that he was not the one the Relic was intended for, the snake released its hold, uncoiling enough to allow its removal before becoming still once more. Brant shivered and quickly dropped the Relic into the leather satchel he had brought with him for such a purpose.

Now a few hours later as he and his team huddled together in the small dark tomb, he rubbed his dark red mottled wrist as the wind howled outside, a deep and sinister moan that sent shivers running up and down his spine. He had noticed the departure of one of his crew, a young man by the name of Pedro who had suddenly appeared before they had left Argentina and had volunteered to assist them in Peru. Claiming to have local knowledge, Pedro had lived up to his claims of being able to direct Brant and his team directly to the Nasca Lines, and although he was a quiet and sinister looking chap, who insisted on only travelling at night, Brant had found his local knowledge invaluable. The fact that Pedro had disappeared as soon as Brant had located the Relic had not escaped him, and he wondered why Pedro had suddenly vanished at such a time. Fearing that the find had triggered a series of events that had resulted in something tragic happening to Pedro, Brant never entertained the notion that Pedro’s disappearance had been related to the Relics’ find in a completely different way.

After making the necessary calls to his Mistress to advise her as to the find of the Relic, Pedro had then begun the long journey into town to prepare his men for the next stage of the plan.
One of the people Pedro had called had been a young girl by the name of Marissa. Marissa had fallen for Pedro when she was a mere girl of fourteen, and after his kiss of death had ensured she would enjoy that age forever, Marissa had been bound to Pedro for eternity. He had set her up quite high in the food chain of his clan, and Marissa had repaid his kindness by serving as his personal assistant. She helped him with all of his needs, no matter how mundane or sinister, but to her dismay her generosity was not returned. Marissa was only one of Pedros conquests, and it was this knowledge that had inspired her to look elsewhere to have her needs met. Her search had led her to find a young vampire by the name of Ethan who was quickly moving up the ranks of the First Blood Clan. It was Ethan who she called before she forwarded the message to the Mistress of her own clan, and although she knew that Pedro would be destroyed once word got out, she did so with a smirk upon her lush full lips.

Less than an hour later, Isabella was being briefed by Ethan as one of her servant girls brushed her long jet black hair dry as she sat in front of the roaring fire, her back to the warm flames. Although the details were sketchy, Isabella was confident that the Relic would soon be in her possession. Dismissing the servant with a flick of her hand, Isabella waited until the young woman left before she addressed Ethan. Beckoning for him to come closer with nothing more than a finger, she smiled demurely as he approached and knelt before her. While he kissed first her hand, and then her wrist, Isabella smiled as she spoke, her flesh tingling where his tongue trailed upon her skin.

~Gather a team of our best retrieval experts, I would say twelve should be suffice.. have them leave for Peru immediately.. under your direction of course. You are to make contact with this Pedro and do what you can to assist him in his retrieval attempt of the Relic. If he succeeds, you will then retrieve it from him.. if he does not.. your team will succeed where his has failed..~ She caressed the back of his head as he nodded while nibbling the inside nook of her elbow.

~I shall stay here in Rome.. for the time being. I expect you to stay in contact at all times.. inform me of things as they are happening, and when you return with the Relic, you shall be handsomely rewarded..~ she allowed his lips and his tongue to trail over her bodice enclosed waist and breasts, offering the expected shivery moan as his lips found the flesh of her throat and then her lips. As he kissed her with what she assumed he thought was a fiery passion that she had ever known, she forced all images of Benitos face from her mind as she pushed Ethan way gently. ~Go, my pet.. you have much to do.~ He nodded happily, like some giant puppy who had just received his masters highest accolades before he bounced off to do as he was commanded.

Isabella watched him go before she crossed to the large bay window that enclosed the whole west side of her penthouse apartment. Although the heavily tinted windows provided her with the necessary protection from the suns harmful UV in the daylight, now, it was a crystal clear portal to the outside world, and she stood frozen in thought as she gazed out at the bright city lights. Rome at night was truly magical, and Isabella hugged herself as she wondered what Benito was doing at this moment. Growling deeply in her throat, she forced him from her mind once more as she turned her thoughts towards more pressing matters: The Relic. It would be hers, of that she was certain. *

[Tak]

Brant shivered slightly. The dank tomb was cut off from the hot, arid landscape it was located in. It was the total opposite of outside. It was still dry, but the temperature was so much more lower. How he missed the warm, beautiful climate of his home back in Visalia. It was normal there. Well, he couldn't call this place abnormal, for it was normal to it's inhabitants. So he settled on foreign. That's what Peru was. Foreign. So different from the US. The people were different. The food was different from his home. At least he didn't have to stay in this place forever. At least he hoped not.

He got up from his seat on the floor. The dark room was full of his fellow employees, going about their business. They were stuck in this place until the sand storm outside died down. He had deadline to meet. He moved his hand to his side, clutching the bag, feeling the slithering living form of nothing but cold stone. This thing was going to drive him crazy. Inside was The Relic, in the form of a small golden snake with ruby eyes. It looked valuable, and the museum of natural history wanted it. Since they were the ones paying for this so called dig, they were the proud owners. Brant stalled as his mind flashed back to earlier that day. Had the snake actually affixed itself to his arm? He hadn't remembered a thing while it was on. But he felt .... powerful, when he wore it.

He was jerked to the present as one of his staff members approached. He recognized her as Stephanie, a New Yorker who was new to the archeology scene. She wasn't exactly pretty, more like one of those girls who in high school were glued to their books. She wore pink horn rimmed glasses, giving him the impression that she was perky today. Stephanie had some sort of problem with her moods. Nice on minute, sad the next. As long as it didn't interfere with her work, Brant was fine with it. "Hey Brant?" She looked toward him, her stare filled to the brim with a caffeine-like perkiness,

"When are we getting out of here? I want to get home." Brant shrugged, his shoulders accenting his height,

"I have no idea. We'll just have to wait this sandstorm out. It may take a while." She looked down and muttered.

"Oh...." She was sad again. She began to drag her feet to her earlier position. The truth was that Brant agreed with her on this one. He wanted out just as much as she did.

(Sorry that it's not longer, I'm not good with long posts.)

[Isabella Rastafari]

*The hours ticked by on silent clocks of trepidation as the storm raged outside. The wind was not dying down, if anything it was becoming stronger and faster as time wore on. Tonnes of sand were being blown onto the roof of the previously hidden tomb, and any archaeologist with a trained eye would be able to see that the tomb would soon be hidden once more. This time it would be buried by thousands of layers of sand and if Brant didn’t move his team out soon, they would soon be trapped inside.

The horses and camels that had carried the team to the site had since disappeared in the sand storm, presumably searching for shelter by sheer instinct alone. The one existing road that led to the nearest village was now hidden by the rippling sand dunes which were rapidly filling up the previously flat and barren wasteland. The various pegs and twine that had once been so intricately laid out over and around the dig site were now scattered into the four corners of the globe, while any papers that had not be secured in or on peoples bags and bodies were now nothing more than torn shreds of dancing snow.

If Brant did choose to direct his team to leave the site and try to make their way to the village, he would find a perilous journey ahead. If he did not move his team out soon however, their journey would come to a premature and frightening end. *

[Zarick Gunn]

The Playhouse Annex was alive with the return of its master. Passion, anger, and blood filled the haven. Bodies of priests, rabbi, and pastors lie strewn across the complex; remnants of the feast held for the master’s homecoming. For at one time being wary of its new master, the Annex Clan has come to embrace its master. Currently, that master was in his private chambers accompanied by a few of the more alluring females of the clan. They were eager to make their master comfortable, after his trip by any means. He was seated in his throne of gothic design. Two of the females were at his sides, sitting on the arms of the chair, the other on her knees in front of him. The two at his sides were seductively attending to his neck and ears, while he sat eyes closed deep in thought. None of the workings of the three girls strayed him from his thought. His mind stayed sharp even as the third girl slowly slid onto his lap and began to disrobe him.

Much needed tending to yet, the clan could be in danger. Is the enemy aware of the clan’s home? No if they knew where the clan was, they would have attacked already….wouldn’t they? Was this all a trap? No these vampires showed no concern for the lives of humans, just like the Annex Clan should. Zarick’s mind was a war zone of questions all with answers that could prove vital to his clan’s survival. Interrupting Zarick’s thought was the sound of the intercom turning on and a male voice issuing forth. “Master, forgive the interruption, but the First Blood Clan is on the move.” The words had reached their intended target causing Zarick’s eyes to snap open. Zarick’s movement had also caused the girl on his lap to giggle slightly before leaning in and softly biting her master’s lower lip.

Just before Zarick began to speak his reply, the girl released his lip from between her teeth. “Then we are to move as well. They must be privy to some information that we aren’t as of yet.” With no regard for the girls still trying to please him, Zarick rose from his seat, the girl who was previously on his lap now clung to him, arms around his neck and her legs clutched his waist. In this new position the girl leaned in placing her lips next to Zarick’s ear and whispered seductively, “Ohhh, this could be fun,” before biting at his ear. With a distant look in his eyes, Zarick turned his head to look towards her, garnering some surprise from the vampire. His movement caused her to look at him with confusion evident in her features. “There is much that needs to be done.” Were the only words to escape his lips. “Oh, but that can wait can’t it,” she asked as she placed her lips to his neck. With out a word from her master she knew the answer based on his demeanor. After removing herself from him, she looked up at him, he stood a full head taller than she, and easily dwarfed her. She placed her head against his chest and looked up to him with as innocent a look as she could manage and merely said “Later?”

An answer never passed her master’s lips before he began his preparations for following the First Blood Clan.

[thisone]

Everyone at the dig site was nervous, everyone on edge, everyone disliking their situation....well, everyone but the man holding one of the few lanterns still lit. The man held the lantern up higher to shed some light on the casket that the Relic had been pulled from. There was some writing on the covering, aswell as along the walls of this place, and that was one of the only reasons why Nathan Renfield was here. He was a professor of hieroglyphics from Banbridge, and something of a mythology buff. He loved using his brain, loved trying to decode things, and that's exactly what he was doing here.

Nathan held the lantern closer to the wall, moving so that his nose was maybe three inches away from it. The lantern in his right hand, he looked down at the small brown leather notebook in his left. "Brant, Come look at this!" he called exitedly, his voice filled with a childlike wonder dispite their current situation, and with that subtle british accent.

Nathan was by no means an imposing figure, being only about six feet in height and only about a hundred and twenty pounds. His brown hair was kept short, but it still found some way to be messy. He backed away from the stone wall and examined the artwork in a broader view. His brown leather boots were filled with sand, and it felt like his tan slacks and white t-shirt weren't fairing much better in that department. He moved his left wrist up and pushed the thin-rimmed reading glasses farther up his nose, then turned his hand back around and gazed down at it with his dark brown eyes.

"Look here" he said, pointing to a large portion of the wall depicting a serpent coiling itself around some sort of human-shapped black mass. "I think this is some sort of depiction of what the Relic must have done. Or maybe it's something about it's creation, I have yet to figure that part out." He looked back down at his notes, happily continuing with his work.

[Tak]

Brant knelt on the grainy floor, riffling around the sand as he tied his shoelace. It looked as if it had been mauled by a bear, the aglet was probably shifting beneath other people's feet by now. He had caught it on a jutting piece of stone while inspecting what the others were doing. The rock had nearly ripped off half the lace. At least there were no jutting rocks higher than their feet. Brant stood, embracing his full height and looked around. Stephanie was sitting on the floor cross-legged, playing her game boy. Apparently she was racing, because she turned her body in sync with the game. Man, she was weird. He managed to hear a voice over the worried tones of the other team members.

Brant looked to the far side of the tomb, where he had found the Relic, laying untouched for millenniums in its resting place. That snake would never see this place again, it would now sleep forever in the natural history museum. The voice had belonged to Nathan Renfield, who was inspecting the hieroglyphics on the side of where the Relic had once layed. He was calling him over, probably to tell him about some new finding.

Brant abided him and walked stiffly over, the whole place looked as if it was going back to the depths of the Peruvian desert. They had to get out of there soon. He walked over to Nathan, and inspected the hieroglyphics over his shoulder as he explained it to him. It was a black ... something, it looked human, but there was something about it.

Suddenly, Brant felt the place shake as a small portion of the roof caved in, right over Stephanie's head. The rock's jagged form lay over her. He heard a few boops and beeps from the game over screen on the game boy, and then nothing. She was dead for sure. That was solid limestone. Brant spoke hurriedly.

"Nathan, you should take a picture of it, fast." He knew Nathan wouldn't leave without something to study. Brant sprung into action, and ran as fast as he could to the center of the room. He knew how to take command when the situation demanded it.

"Everyone! This place is going to fall any minute now, I need you're full cooperation! Somebody try the door! If it opens, I want you all to file out single-file! If that doesn't work, take a rope and climb out the hole!" Brant raised his voice. They needed to act fast. The whole place was trembling. Sand was falling from crevices in the ceiling. Why hadn't he gotten them all out earlier? Brant hurried off to help as the members of the crew scattered to do their jobs.

(Sorry I killed off Stephenie, I wanted to start some panicky situations.)

[thisone]

Nathan was a few pictures with his disposable camera when he heard the crash behind him. He turned to see the bloody puddle beneath the stone where Stephanie once was, and his blood ran cold. The camera fell from his hands as the final sounds faded from the little digital device. She loved that little thing, almost as much as Nathan loved her. Why? The question repeated over and over again in the professor's mind. Why her? The next instant and Nathan founds himself trying with all his strength to lift the jagged piece of rock off the girl. And he wept. A few of the other workers tried to pry Nathan off the rock, but the man was inconsolable. It took an additionaly two minutes for Nathan to give up the hopeless endevor, and instead took up the girl's Gameboy and ran out with the others.

Nathan had harbored a secret crush on Stephanie since he had arived and saw her playing her little games while everyone else around her worked hard. He had hoped to tell her once this was all over, but that wasn't going to happen now. The wind felt like daggers as he forced his way through the sanddunes and into the night. What little was left of thier base camp was nothing more than a pile of sand with the occasional tarp point sticking out of it. Everything that they had, every computer, every note, everything that they hadn't brought with them into the crypt was gone. And the sound of rumbling from behind told them that anything left behind was now lost aswell. All that was left was the slicing winds, the bitter sands, and the gameboy that Nathan clutched to his chest, praying that Stephanie was at peace.

((Yeah...i just wanted to add that little part...i don't know why, but yeah))

[Rory Connery]

'My bad!'

Said a deep accented voice, the sound echoed through the cavern and over the sound of rushing sand.

Sand continued to pour into the ancient tomb, a limp dark figure could be seen sliding with the sand, he twisted his body at the last second and landed animalistic on all fours in a crouching position.

The man pulled himself to his full height; he wore a black head cloth over his head and mouth, leaving only a slit for his eyes. They glowed ever so slightly a blue yellow hue disturbingly. He began to unbind the cloth around his head.

'You'll never believe the weather out there, it's terrible'.

He said conversationally, the pouring of sand was slowing down but still continued to fill the tomb, and while it didn’t stop it was giving them some extra time, The Shrouded man shook his leg clean of sand. He wore a black vest over a red long sleeve shirt and black pants. He finally pulled the cloth of his face revealing a handsome young man; he smiled wolfishly, his pearly white teeth clashed against his tanned skin.

'It took me forever to sniff you guys out… I mean… you know locate you, with my sand… finding…instruments and stuff…'

He said quickly trailing off, his gaze moved to the mess of blood and gore that used to be a woman.

'Ew…'

He said simply and stepped back a little.

'Who's in charge here? Brant i think the name was? I'm Rory Connery, I work for your employer, He was getting worried about you're progress so he sent me out to find you, and here i am!'.

He said cheerily with a dramatic wave of his arms, His gaze shifted from person to person trying to locate Brant.

'I presume you found the relic?'

He said to nobody in particular, waiting for Brant to speak up, Rory had an Australian accent; it wasn’t hard to pick his nationality.

[Tak]

Brant turned around to face a devilishly handsome man. Brant had been busy filing out the members of the dig into the harsh winds and scalding air. He stopped to comfort Nathan along the way, who had burst into hysterics when Stephanie had been killed. The devilish man called himself Rory Connery, looked about twenty, and was speaking aloud to the rest of the dilapidating room. He said that he worked for Brant's employer. The next thing he said made Brant tense up. "He was getting worried about you're progress..."

Brant shook his head slightly. His employer, Taylor Muns, was a woman. Not a man, not a "he". Brant walked over to the man, thinkng about who this man was, he clearly didn't know Taylor Muns. Brant shook the mans hand in welcome, wondering who in the world this man was. Well, apparently, he was from Australia nd he was Rory Connery, but what were his true intentions?

"Why hello, I'm Brant Daniels, leader of this dig." said Brant. Suddenly, some sand began to pour onto Brant's head. He blushed as he shuffled to the right to avoid the falling dirt.

"So sorry about that, we're actually trying to get out of here. And to answer your question, I haven't found the relic." Brant lied slyly, trying not to give it away. He wasn't about to tell this man where a priceless piece of Peruvian history was.

(Hope that was okay? Sorry to keep everyone waiting for my post.)

[Rory Connery]

Rory sniffed the air, Brant was lying, his heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly, he was a good liar…

‘Hmm… The Old boss won’t be happy about that… Oh, I should explain, I answer to the dude above your dude… it’s all very complicated…’

He said, once again flashing of his impressive smiles.

‘Anyway, spot on, lets jet’

He said in a very Australian Manor. He began to wind his scarf back around his face carefully, he looked around. The entrance above was obviously lost to them. He sniffed the air again, there was a way out, he could smell the fresh air slowly seeping from another direction, he followed the smell, taking careful steps. There was another crash in the distance and once again the temple began to fill with sand, it would only take another 30 minuets before any sign of the temple existing would be lost.

‘Your one hell of a good arche- ah… ‘finding guy’, I can’t understand why nobodies ever found this place before!’

Rory called out over the roar of the sand. He moved through the temple and over sand, assuming Brant and his people were following behind him. He sniffed the hair again, it was getting stronger. He turned around waiting to see an entrance but only thing that awaited them was a large dead end.

‘But I could sme…’

He stopped himself before he finished his sentence, the only thing in their path was a huge golden circular disk, pushed firmly against the wall, he took a closer look at the tablet, it had small inscriptions and carvings of a woman taller than the other stick figures around her, her mouth was opened wide and her fangs were long and sharp. People cowered and some shot arrows at her, but she remained triumphant, her arms raised towards the sun. Rory growled slightly inhumanly, he grabbed hold of the tabard and pushed it to the left. Revealing a large hole in the wall.

‘Oh… that’s what I meant to do…”

He said with a hidden smile, he pulled himself low onto all fours and crawled through the tunnel to freedom. He moved much faster than a human should on all fours. He felt the sun hit his skin.

((Hope thats cool Tak? Let me know if you want me to change it.))

[Tak]

(It was perfect.)

"Hmmm..." Brant mumbled to himself. Maybe this guy was legit after all.

"Hey! I'm getting some stuff, be right there!"Brant yelled to Rory, who was probably outside by now. Sunlight streamed through the holes in the ceiling, hitting Brant as he jogged around the cave nervously, grabbing up small things that would be needed later. He ended up with a handful of junk. He didn't need any of this. Brant released his armfuls of stuff, keeping only a small map and PDA that Stephanie had once owned.

"Not any more..." Brant whispered to himself. He could use it outside. Tell Taylor about what had happened. Brant practically ran into the gaping hole in the wall where Rory had exited. Hopefully he was waiting patiently on the other side. For some reason, Rory didn't strike Brant as a patient person. Maybe it was the situation, but Rory had been acting weird back there. Was he about to say "sniffing"? He crawled hand over hand through the cramped tunnel. Sand was trickling down on all sides, covering him in dirt and grime.

Brant appeared outside, the sun so bright that it made his semi-long hair shine in the brilliant light. As he stood up from his position on his knees, all of the dirt that had fallen on him trickled down the folds of his clothing to the shifting sand below. You never would have known it was a desert from in there. Especially not now, where Stephanie's body was covered in pebbles and sand. He scanned the rolling hills of dust for the enigmatic Rory.

(Hope that was long enough?)

[thisone]

((Sorry i've taken so long, i've been kinda busy))

Nathan slowly came out behind Brant, his hair somewhat caked in sand. He shook his head to get said sand out, and he looked around. He had been in a sort of depressed shock since he came out of the tomb, since he saw Stephanie die, but he was slowly coming out of it. "I know I'm not exactly the authority on this, but do you believe this Rory to be trustworthy?" He asked, looking down at his notebook and pushing his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose with his palm. He had watched as this man, this Rory, sniffed the air on their way down. If he was nothing else, Nathan was perticularly watchful, and alittle anal when it came to little details like that. Something about his guy didn't sit well with him, and he couldn't help but wonder if this guy was more animal then man.

This idea was much more realistic to Nathan, even though it would seem insane, even idiotic, to most other people. However, most other people didn't have a relatively good grasp of the supernatural aswell as a PHD in cryptolog and ancient languages. He had even become, in his own eyes, a somewhat capable spellcaster. Granted he could only do small things as of yet, like creat a orb of fire about the size of a tennisball and talk to ghosts, but he didn't really need anything more powerful as of yet.

[Tak]

A cloud flew over the sun as Brant began to respond to the questioning Nathan. "Well, I don't see why we shouldn't trust him." Brant shook off some the sand that had gathered along the the creases of his boots. Being clean was a kind of habit with him. Everything had to be clean and presentable at the Daniels' household.

"He may not make the best first impression, but I have a feeling that he'll come through for us in the end." Rory, Brant didn't know exactly how to explain him, but he had an unnatural air about him. Like he wasn't quite .... human. Brant felt that Nathan felt the same. Brant had to squint as the cloud that had drifted over the sun had finished blocking it from view, letting the glaring sun come out with a vengeance.

"Do you have a feeling that he isn't exactly normal? I mean, he wasn't exactly the figure of politeness. He has this animal feel to him." Brant didn't know what it was, but it creeped him out. But it also gave him reassurance, like this man could protect them somehow.

(Sorry, it doesn't seem very long, but I think It'd be better if I had more time to revise and add things. My mom wants on the computer.)

[Ciarnait]

*Ciarnait swallowed the growl that had begun to form in the back of her throat. The kid that was sitting behind her continued to kick the back of her seat with his steady rhythm, and Ciarnait rolled her dark eyes back into her head and forced herself to slowly count to ten in an effort to calm down. If she did not manage to quell her rage soon, the werewolf part of her would soon emerge and the boy would learn quickly what happened to kids who couldn’t keep their feet under control.

Beside her, Sanford Dennigan chuckled as he watched her out of the corner of his crystal clear blue eyes. With her own eyes still closed Ciarnait growled ~I’m glad that someone is finding this situation amusing..~ as she forced herself to refrain from tearing Sanfords eyes from his smug handsome face. If she had not found the man so sexually arousing, she would never have agreed to sit beside him on the plane, despite his offer to give up the aisle seat for her. Not that she had had much choice in the matter – Isabella had only brought her along to keep an eye on Sanford after all, but Ciarnait now wondered if she should have just refused to accompany the man on this trip. The fact that she had to travel in economy class while Isabella and Rose travelled in first class style, merely served to fuel the roaring anger that she tried so hard to repress. Realising that she should put as much distance between herself and Sanford if she did happen to turn, Ciarnait kicked the seat in front of her angrily as she pushed herself out of her seat and snapped ~Need to pee!~ before she turned around to kill the kid with a single glare before she stalked off down the aisle. Grateful to find an empty toilet cubicle, Ciarnait locked the door behind her as she began to take her rage out on the small toilet stall. Kicking and punching the walls with all the rage that she had, Ciarnait expertly avoided hitting the toilet bowl, basin and anything else that might cause her damage. After several minutes of her frenzied attack, the toilet walls appeared in dire need of a new coat of paint, but she felt much better. Flexing her fingers, she checked her nails to make sure she had halted the regression, and smiled in relief as she paused to check her reflection in the mirror. Her long dark hair was tied back in her trademark loose braid, leaving several long strands to hang loose around her beautiful face, and Cairnait licked her full luscious dark lips as she smiled approvingly at her reflection. Sanford was done for. Of that she was certain.

On the way back to her seat, Ciarnait veered towards the front of the plane where Isabella and Rose were seated. After a brief discussion with Rose, during which Isabella gazed wistfully out the window into the darkened sky, Ciarnait headed back to where Sanford sat, reading the magazine that Ciarnait had discarded a few minutes after their take off. In his khaki cargo pants and pale safari style shirt, he looked everything like the archaeologist he claimed to be. An Egyptologist with the highest credentials and experience that money could buy, Sanford Dennigan was a valuable asset for Isabella, one that Ciarnait had been charged with guarding. While she would normally hold exception with being a glorified babysitter, Ciarnait was grateful for the chance to leave the boys of the Pack and the Warehouse. Considering the fact that Sanford was more than adequate eye candy, Ciarnait offered him a dazzling smile as she slipped back into her seat. He blushed slightly as his blue eyes met hers over the top of the magazine.

~How can you read this tripe?~ he moaned as he passed the magazine back to her. She just laughed and dropped the magazine onto her lap. ~ Care to offer me some other form of stimulation Sanford?~ she purred as she leaned in close to him, her lips almost caressing his ear. Clearing his throat, he sat up higher in his seat and glanced at her nervously.

~Uh, your boss.. I don’t think she would approve of any… uh.. distractions. This relic, it is of the utmost importance, and she…. ~ he paused as her hand found his thigh, his voice going strange. ~ Warned me not to allow myself any.. distractions. ~ The last word was whispered as he gulped while her hand found its intended target. Smiling at Sanford, she purred ~Don’t worry about me distracting you sweetheart, I guarantee.. once I’m finished with you, you will see things with a strange sense of the purest clarity.~ Grinning as her lips found his, Ciarnait was pleasantly surprised to find that Sanford was a far better kisser than she had anticipated. With over ten hours left of flying time ahead of her, Ciarnait was confident that she would soon become a member of the mile high club. For the fifth time.


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Meanwhile, in First Class, Isabella stared out of the window, thinking about Benito and her time in Rome. He had done another of his famous disappearing acts, the most recent lasting many months, and Isabella was past angry. She had fumed for months, fretted with worry, raged with frustration and still, she held no clue as to his whereabouts or why he had departed so suddenly. As this relic was the last thing he had told her about before he had disappeared, Isabella hoped that in some way her trip to Peru would provide her with the necessary answers. If anything, it provided a happy escape from her villa in Rome which had quickly begun to feel like a prison. She had planned on letting Pedro and his team handle things in Peru, but her recent bout of depression and sense of lonliness screamed at her for a change of scene, and Isabella had quickly planned for her girls to accompany her to Peru. Despite the reassuring closeness of Rose’s body in the seat beside her, Isabella hugged herself as she felt agonisingly alone. Turning away from the dark window beside her, Isabella failed to turn away from her dark heart as easily and she smiled sadly at Rose.

~Once we arrive, I think you and Ciarnait should travel with the Doctor to the hotel. It should be just after seven when we land, so I will have time to see Pedro and get a progress report. I’ll be at the hotel just after Midnight. Have some food waiting for me will you? I wont have time to hunt.. besides.. I prefer for us to hunt together when we can..~ her smile warmed as she gazed upon Rose. ~Thankyou for coming with me my sweet sister… I can not imagine this journey alone.~

The in flight movie was an Adam Sandler comedy where he pursued a forgetful Drew Barrymore. Isabella smiled faintly as her eyes flickered towards the screen.

~If only real love was as simple as they show it in these “movies” ..~ she mused to Rose. *

[Rory Connery]

Rory heard it all. He shook his body like a dog, getting rid of any sand that clung to his clothes and body; he looked like a child dressing up as a ninja in his red cloth face mask. It was intuitive, they had figured out he wasn’t 100%, either Rory was being a bad actor (impossible) or the pair really were as intuitive as they appeared. Most people never even considered that Rory wasn’t human... just that he was odd.

Rory’s pants beeped, a small dust cloud was forming in the distance

‘That’ll be the ride I organized... give me a second to take this’

He said with a wolfish grin, he pulled out a small flip phone and flicked it open, he nodded and answered with ‘yes’, ‘no’s and finally ‘aye aye boss man’ He hung up the phone.

‘Well it looks like our illustrious employer just made it to Peru. He’s waiting for us in town’.

A bus slowed down near them, throwing sand and dust cloud at them, the bus was covered with a thick coat of sand, water squirted onto the windscreen and wipers swiped the dirt away.

The Door sprung open, an attractive blonde woman in shorts smiled at them.

‘All aboard lads!’

She said cheerily. Rory jumped on board, winking at Lara, he sat in the seat directly behind him bouncing in excitement.

It didn’t take long to reach town, a 45 minute drive, when they arrived Lara and Rory jumped from the buss and walked into what looked like a large white building.

‘Boss man owns this...’

He whispered to Brant as they entered the building. A surprisingly young handsome man dressed in a black combat jumper and cargo pants smiled warmly. His dark hair was cut long around his face messily; he took Brant and Nathan’s hands in a warm handshake.

‘I think it’s time we had a long discussion about the world...’

Peregrine said with a grim smiled, indicating with his hands the men should sit. Rory sat by his side, he had pulled off his head scarf and grinned wildly.