The large villa looked eerie in the late evening. Every curtain had been closed and the lights were dimmed. Heero expected a maid to appear with a candlestick in her hand, adding to the spooky atmosphere. It was Quatre himself who opened the door and bade them inside.
"What's going on?" was Heero's harsh demand. Quatre looked at Duo, all dressed in black. "This way," Quatre said and lead them to the impressive, Titanic-size stairs. They were flanked by two marble female statues: naked, with a few draperies around their lower legs. The carpet was so thick that it completely muffled the sound of their footsteps. No one spoke.
Upstairs, a few maids had grouped together, looking troubled and worried. A tall man, unmistakably a butler, wore the same troubled expression. When Duo and Heero arrived, they all looked up with renewed hope in their eyes.
Quatre opened the doors to a large bedroom, and it took only a second for Heero to figure out that he was about to enter Treize Khushrenada's private quarters. Harriet would faint if she knew!
It was warm in the room; a huge open fireplace gave off the intense heat. An enormous self-portrait adorned the west wall, and a prominent display case was set up so that everyone could see the various awards he had won. The luxury of the room was eccentric and decadent; Heero hadn't expected anything else.
Quatre went straight to the bed, wringing his hands. He followed him, almost bumping into Duo, as he stood still. Only now Heero noticed Chang Wufei standing next to the luscious bed, katana in hand, unsheathed. Khushrenada was on the bed, eyes closed.
"Maxwell," Wufei acknowledged Duo's presence, ignoring Heero.
"Wufei," the other said. "What's going on?"
"See for yourself. There's nothing left." He took a few steps back. Duo took his place and leaned into Khushrenada.
The playboy actor was dressed in an expensive silk pair of pajamas. On his nightstand was an autobiography of Marlon Brando, a few scripts with post-it notes attached to it and a half-finished glass of water. No pills, no syringes, no white stuff. Everything looked spotless clean, and Khushrenada himself as if he was simply sleeping. Duo held his hand over Khushrenada's face, moving his fingers and slightly tapping him on the forehead, eyelids, nose, lips and chin. He looked troubled.
"This is bad," he muttered under his breath.
"What happened?" Quatre asked. "What am I supposed to say to his friends and family?"
"He has to be brought to the hospital," Wufei said. "He obviously can't take care of himself right now, and he'll die if he goes without nutrients and water."
"But what about his family? His career?"
"The tabloids are going to be all over this," Duo said. "'Playboy actor drinks himself into a comatose state'."
"But…" Quatre said.
"Which is better than 'Playboy actor gets soul sucked out after paranormal experiment going wrong'," Duo continued dryly. Quatre was silenced, his eyes widened.
"Wait, what? But… everything looks so peaceful!"
"I know." Duo narrowed his eyes. He looked at Quatre so intensely that the business man took a few steps backwards. "There are many questions to be answered, but we don't have much time to waste if we want to retrieve him."
"Please do," Quatre sighed.
"It cannot be done just like this, in a matter of seconds," Wufei all but snarled. "We have to set up our defenses properly, Maxwell. We will have to go in deep!"
"True." Duo looked a little defeated. "We better figure out what went wrong first. If we know what the flaw in his summoning was, we can focus on that and adjust our strategy."
"Finally some sense and wisdom coming from you," Wufei muttered under his breath. Heero was sure Duo had overheard it, but he didn't comment. Quatre was still looking from one to the other, obviously worried.
"The man outside, is he a doctor?"
"Yes. The maid looking up on Khushrenada alarmed him."
"Why was she looking up on him?"
Quatre pointed at a button next to the copper alarm clock. "He had pushed it."
Duo clacked with his tongue and Wufei made a noncommittal sound. "Any witnesses?"
"No, she found him like this. She immediately alerted the butler, who called me. I'm not sure why the man made that choice, I don't know Khushrenada that well, but it might have to do with that my name has been connected to…" he was searching for the right words, "… strange cases."
"There's nothing to see." Heero was confused. No blood, no visible injuries, no sign of a struggle… just Khushrenada, lying lifeless on the bed. Then it dawned to him. Lifeless. There was nothing there. There's nothing left.
"Qullu'an. Soul reapers," Duo said. "His summoning must've gone wrong. I don't know what he tried to summon or why he did it alone… but it's a mess."
"Soul reapers?"
"Very strong demons." Wufei looked annoyed. "He used a ritual to summon it, but somehow he botched it."
"I see the amplifier." Duo crossed the room to a cherry wood bookcase and took a small statue from the top shelf. It looked like a Polynesian god, grinning at Duo. Wufei's rigid posture didn't change for a moment, his hand never loosening its grip on the katana. He was the only one not startled by the sound of breaking clay and porcelain. Quatre paled.
"What have you done? That was priceless!"
"Khushrenada will thank me later," Duo deadpanned. "This was the amplifier, and it opened the gate for the qullu'an."
"So… you're saying they… whatever… took his soul?" Heero reacted with horror. No wonder there were no signs of struggle. This wasn't something physical.
"Soul reapers are the lowest of the lowest," Wufei said, not bothering to hide his disdain. "But they're also strong."
"And they often are controlled by a boss," Duo said. "Soul reapers are called into existence. Someone - or something - has willfully and consciously created an entity to steal a soul and do with it only the Gods know what."
"What would… anyone want to do with a soul?" Quatre's voice wavered.
"It is rare to have the entire soul taken," Wufei said. His knuckles on the katana had turned white, but still he didn't let go of the weapon. "Human souls are sources of spiritual energy. Demons like to fester on it, like parasites, because the energy sustains them for so long. That is why people can be possessed; it is always a demon feeding itself off of the spiritual energy. But to take a soul in its entirety…"
"It still could be the result of a bad summoning." Duo looked around. "I don't see anything pertaining to a ritual, though. It might be that the statue activated on its own, something we overlooked during the party."
"We fixed the rift," Wufei said. "If the soul reaper had already been in the house, we would have sensed him, especially you, Duo. It is a Death-type, after all."
"We better take care of Khushrenada," Duo's voice drowned out Wufei's. "Get him to the hospital, and leave it to his PR department to come up with an excuse about his absence. We have other things to think about."
Quatre wrung his hands. "I don't know what to do," he said.
"Go home, Quatre," Duo said. "Leave it to us."
"I will look into the matter," Wufei said and finally loosened his grip on the katana. "You go prepare, Maxwell. I will catch up with you later."
"All right." Duo hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. "We'll make sure that Khushrenada will be safe."
"What about me?" Heero asked.
"You're going home too," Duo said firmly. "There's nothing you can do here."
Heero stared at the ceiling of his small bedroom. Quatre followed up on Duo's words and had send Heero home in his company car. Nobody said no to Quatre Winner, and grudgingly, Heero had conceded. The chauffeur had been silent. Not that Heero was up for a chat. He was worrying. Worrying about Duo, worrying about the strange things that happened, even worrying about Khushrenada. He wished no harm upon the man, and he could still see his lifeless body on the bed.
Heero turned around, the sheets softly rustling with the movement. Ghosts and demons were out of his league. He couldn't get it out of his head. What was going on? Khushrenada wasn't the only one interested in the paranormal. What kind of ritual had he been performing? Had he been vulnerable because of the rift in the villa?
No, this wasn't his problem, Heero told himself. He was only hired to do some research, to discover who or what was targeting Winner's property. Khushrenada had fallen victim because he dabbled with powers he didn't understand. He was collateral damage.
Heero felt vulnerable all of the sudden. He wanted to know how Duo was doing and tried to call him, hanging up before the voicemail message was finished. The American was hard at work to retrieve Khushrenada's soul.
Heero turned around once more and rolled himself into his warm and heavy blankets. Besides feeling vulnerable, he also felt cold.
The office was empty so early in the morning, apart from Harriet; he wondered if his secretary had a hidden bedroom somewhere in the building. She looked at him over the rim of her glasses and brought him his standard, black coffee. Tilting her head slightly, she looked at him.
"Mister Yuy, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. "Any calls from Mister Maxwell?"
"You would've known, since it's my job to patch him through," Harriet snipped in return, offended.
She left his office and closed the door louder than necessary. He didn't pay any attention, not to her, not to the stack of paperwork on his desk.
Heero laced his fingers together. Strangely enough, it was bothering him that Trowa Barton had been absent yesterday. Heero hadn't forgotten the strange look Trowa and Duo had exchanged at the party, and that the usually stoic business associate had been shocked. Even if it had been his evening off, wouldn't he immediately drop everything when his boss called him, obviously in panic? And why had Quatre of all people received a call for help from Khushrenada's staff?
Heero started to drum on his desk. He didn't like it that there was nothing to be found on Barton. Everyone left their mark, a paper trail: family, friends, schools, previous jobs. Duo, Wufei, Trowa… All three of them hadn't left any imprint on this world. Duo hadn't mentioned a thing about his childhood. Wufei didn't look like he was raised conventionally. Trowa had no past until he started to work for Winner Enterprises. How could three people slip through the maze like that? It bothered him.
No calls from any of the spirit hunters, and Heero focused on his other cases. After lunch, he checked a gossip website and quickly discovered what Khushrenada's PR machine had been up to: according to the press release, the actor had checked into a private resort to combat fatigue.
Some fatigue…
Heero was itching to call Duo again but decided against it. Instead, he ordered a bouquet of flowers for Harriet, apologizing for his earlier, gruff behavior. She was totally flustered with the nice gesture and assured him that she hadn't been offended at all, but he could see how she appreciated the flowers. Heero went home earlier than usual, but the thought of his empty apartment wasn't an exciting one.
The cup of instant ramen was cheap and overly salty compared to Duo's lavish cooking. Heero checked his cabinets and his pantry, but there was nothing in his sterile kitchen but instant soup or noodles, not even a vegetable or a fruit. He was used to eating out or having his dinner delivered at the office.
With a sigh, he tossed the cup into his trashcan and started leafing through a small stack of restaurant flyers. It didn't take long to place an order, and in the meantime, he took a quick shower.
He barely finished drying his unruly hair when he heard the knock on his door. Sure, delivery was fast, but this was extremely fast. Heero quickly put on his robe and grabbed his wallet as he went to the door. Another hard knock, and he called out: "Just a minute!"
He had only one bolt removed when the door was smashed out of its hinges. The wood snapped like a match, splinters flying through the air. Heero instinctively put up his arms to protect himself, dropping his wallet to the floor. A dark figure approached him rapidly, pushing him back into the hallway. He had no chance to defend himself, let alone to attack: the blow to his face made him stagger backwards, into the wall, the side table pressing into his lower back. Grunting, Heero moved to lash out with his right arm, but his blow was easily deflected. He received another punch, to his jaw this time, and everything went dark.
He opened his eyes, groaning. A repetitive sound echoed in his head, and he didn't recognize it. Again, the sound was audible, like massive church bells ringing inside his head - ringing. Ringing. It was his cell phone, and Heero could see it on the floor, despite his double vision.
His head was pounding, the pain almost too much to bear. His body refused to obey him when he tried to get up; every bone felt like lead, every muscle pulled him down, and he couldn't move. Get up, he told himself. Get up! He simply couldn't. The phone kept ringing. It was dark; he could only see the display of his darn phone. What time was it?
The phone went silent. Heero heaved a sigh. Very slowly, the memories came back. Food delivery. A knock on the door. Someone punching him in the face. He could barely feel the lower part of his face, and it dawned to him that his jaw might be broken.
Anger welled up in him. He had practiced martial arts for sports for the majority of his life, and he had reached a high dan before he had to drop out due to his busy life. His practice of the martial arts might be rusty, but it was still there. He should've been able to defend himself..!
The anger fueled him. Heero forced himself to get up. Slowly but surely, he was able to move his legs, and he turned himself around on his stomach, so he could use his knees and elbows to get up on all fours. As soon as he started to get up, the entire world spun around him. Heero groaned and stretched his arms, catching the wall. He stood there for hours, or so it seemed, just to hold his balance. Every time he let go of the wall, everything started to spin again. It had to be a concussion…
Where was his phone again? He had to call for help…
Finally Heero let go of the wall and managed to walk into his living room like a drunk man, swaying from left to right, flailing with his arms. He made it to the sofa, collapsing on top of it, and this time he welcomed the darkness with a smile.
Blessed, comfortable silence. When he woke up for the second time, a pleasant light surrounded him, not darkness. Light and silence, and everything around him was a pure, bright white.
This wasn't his bedroom. Where was he? The only sound he heard was a beeping noise. He felt extremely comfortable, and no one was attacking him here. His mind at peace, Heero drifted in and out of consciousness until he noticed someone standing close to him. His eyes flew open and he gasped.
"You're awake," the nurse said dryly. "Good. Your vitals are okay, too."
"Vitals?"
"What do you remember?" She continued checking him, her eyes sharp on his face.
"I was attacked in my own apartment."
"Good. You have a pretty hard head. We feared your skull was cracked, but all you got is a minor concussion. You'll have to take it easy for awhile." She scribbled something on his chart. "The doctor will visit you in the afternoon. He'll probably want to keep you a night longer for observation. Now that you're awake, I'll get you something to eat."
"Thank you." Heero leaned back into the pillows. Yes, he could remember everything again. How long had he been in the hospital? What date was it? Another nurse returned with a tray and served him a sandwich. He ate without really tasting the food, and his mind went to Duo. Where was the American? Where was his cell phone? His clothes? How was he going to get home?
"I'll take care of that," a female voice replied, startling him. Heero had voiced his thoughts out loud, and Relena had overheard him. She looked worried, troubled, and a lot older than she was supposed to be. He almost dropped the remnants of his sandwich.
"Relena," he said.
"I was so worried!" She closed the distance between them and gave him a brief, but firm hug. "Duo Maxwell found you, and after calling the ambulance, he called me. I didn't know you had me on speed dial, Heero."
He shrugged awkwardly. "I don't have any family in case of emergency…"
"I know," she shushed him and shook her head. "You look awful," her voice was filled with sadness, "like someone has grabbed your head and smacked it against a concrete wall. Who would do such a thing?"
"I don't know," Heero said, wishing he had a mirror… and at the same time, he wished he didn't. He could make a pretty good mental picture of what he looked like.
"The strange thing is," Relena hesitated to continue, "whoever did this to you searched your apartment. When Duo called me, I went to your home first to grab so you some stuff-" she pointed to a small table, with a pile of clothes and some toiletries on it, "-and everything had been torn apart."
"My furniture?" Heero asked, incredulous.
"Everything was put upside down and taken inside out. Someone has been looking for something."
"That's incredibly weird." Heero tried to think, but coherent thinking was nearly impossible at the moment. Relena patted him on the hand.
"Tell me more about this Duo Maxwell," she said lightly, to take the conversation into a more upbeat mood. "A friend of yours?"
"We're working together on the Winner case," Heero blurted out. "He's an expert."
"An expert in what?" Relena winked at him. "And do all experts make house calls?"
"I had left a message on his voicemail," Heero said, "I didn't expect him to visit me at home." And when he did, he saw me at my weakest. Great going, Heero Yuy.
She tapped him lightly on the nose. "An expert in what, Heero?"
"Confidential," he grunted in return. As always, Relena didn't pry any further. Instead, she started talking about the doctor and agreeing that another night in the hospital for observation would be the best for him. Heero protested, but Relena could be extremely adamant when she put her mind to something, so he had no choice but to spend another night in a hospital bed.
Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 |