Chapter Five:


Mulder

Navy Pier
7:00 a.m.


I took an early jog around Navy Pier, which wasn't too far from the hotel. Around the lake, as it curved into the shore. As I ran, random thoughts, as always drifted to Scully. We'd only stayed about two hours there, daring not take a chance on more stolen time. We'd crawled into the bed, holding on to each other in the dark. Talking about everything and nothing.

How sometimes I wish things could have been different for us.

It was best not to think like that, so I shook the thoughts away again. And found them zeroing in on the other redhead and her husband. Vampires, but unlike the others I'd seen. It was possible there could exist different kinds of vampires in this world, perhaps they were a subspecies all their own. More than animal, less than human. Somewhere in between?

Animals think on instinct, can be nocturnal and hunt to survive.

They had adapted well to the modern world, living among us. Aylebourne seemed especially good at hiding the secret, what with the art career and all. Adderley, I'm sure he knew. They'd need someone to confide their secret to, protect them and help them survive. Which was why Adderley's kidnapping surely had to be more than random chance. It was more like...a warning to Aylebourne. That's why he was so visually disturbed by it all. I was certain of it.

I headed back to the hotel, running full speed. I hadn't talked to Scully since we'd parted ways last night. Silently moving in opposite directions down the hallway of the Days Inn. Quietly respecting her need to reapply the distance between us necessary for us to work together.

"Good night, Mulder," she had said, punching the elevator button up.

"It was a good night," I'd said, smiling at her. Her suit was wrinkled all over, her hair tousled, her lips full from where I'd kissed her. And I could smell her, on me. That musky, heavy smell of sex.

This morning, I made sure to take a nice, long, cold shower.

****

FBI Field Office in Chicago
12:25 p.m.


I didn't need any "evidence" to tell me that Aylebourne wasn't all he appeared, but Scully did. I'd gotten a fax back from INS. There were no birth records of a Peter David Aylebourne. No family connection. A few random addresses here and there. I called upon the services of an old friend of mine from Oxford, Phillip Warrens, who researches family histories. He proved to me more helpful.

The only record he found was a Peter David Aylebourne born to a duke over 400 years ago. Apparently, this heir vanished after the suicide of his fiancé...

I downloaded the attachment to Warrens e-mail, there was one family portrait of the Aylebourne family from the 1500s. I fished a bag of sunflower seeds out of my pocket as it downloaded.

I leaned in closer as the painting appeared across the screen. It was a mother and father as well as two daughters and two sons, one of which looked remarkably like Peter. Younger than what he was now, but the face was the same.

Mere coincidence, Scully would probably say. Dismissing it to genetics. I printed it off to show her anyway.

I wondered when Aylebourne turned Jessica. It couldn't have been that long ago...

"Mulder," Scully said, walking up to me. "I'm off to get some samples from Adderley. That viral agent, there's nothing like it on file. I'm shipping samples back to Quantico, and I wanted to get more from Adderley. Before it disburses too much."

She may not believe in my vampire theory, but she was certainly pursuing the one thing she could. The scientific aspect of this case. Perhaps she'll be the one to find an answer to my questions about vampiric origin. I couldn't think of anywhere else the victims might have gotten the virus from.

"I got a call from Skinner," I said, reaching for another sunflower seed. I rolled it on my tongue, savoring the salt taste of the husk.

"Oh," she said, hand on her hip.

"We're needed back in DC. Tomorrow," I replied, cracking the shell and taking the seed out. "I'm finalizing the flight times later."

"What are you going to tell him in your report?" she asked, staring down at me.

I leaned back, thinking for a moment. "That I suspect the kidnappings may be connected to some kind of cult activity perhaps. Explain the meanings of the symbol. I'll finish my profile this afternoon on the perp. Perhaps even theorize on a possible connection to vampirism....pending your scientific findings on the blood."

Scully smiled at me. "You're holding back that one? Just for me?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I don't need to prove they exist. I know they do."

She opened her mouth to say something.

Was she going to disagree with me? Challenge me? Admit what she knows is true?

C'mon Scully. Say it. So do I, Mulder. I know what I've seen.

"We'll see," she finally said, taking a deep breath. "I'll be back later. I'll call you."

I watch her go, walking slowly out of the office.

She talks so much about faith all the time. Faith in God. Faith in the future. Faith in the fucking search for the truth. But I wonder when she'll have faith in me. In my theories. To just go with it, for once.

And then I smiled. I knew better than that.


****

Peter

Aylebourne Apartment
10:45 a.m.


I woke up with my wife in my arms.

After spending a blissful time making love on top of the piano, we'd slowly made our way to the bedroom; pausing to make love on the sofa in the studio, against the wall in the hallway, on the window ledge in the bedroom over looking the city. When we'd finally reached the bed, I was certain Jessie would have been too tired to make love there. But then my Tigerlily has always been full of surprises.

I opened my eyes to find myself spooned up behind her, my arms wrapped around her sleeping body. I kissed her bare shoulder. When she didn't respond, I kissed her bare skin again. She didn't move.

Curious, I studied her sleeping face and saw a small smile tugging at her lips. I grinned. The little tease was trying to convince me she was asleep. I gave her shoulder a playful nip.

She giggled, then rolled over to smile up at me. We didn't speak a word. We didn't need to as we slipped our arms around each other and softly began to kiss.

I remembered what I had told Agent Scully the night before; about having faith in someone. Jessie had an enormous amount of faith in me; so much that she was willing to give up her mortal life for me. She had given up sunlight, having children, being able to live in one place for very long, just to be with me. She had chosen this strange, dark life just so we could be together.

It still staggered me how much faith she had in me, how much she loved me.

My Tigerlily has always been full of surprises.

"It looks like we're stuck here for the day," she breathed to me as my mouth made its way down her neck.

"Oh dear," I whispered against her skin. "What in the world will we do?"

"Hmmm," she sighed. "I don't know. But you know how I hate being bored."

"Well," I murmured as I pulled myself up to peer into her beautiful face. "I'm sure I can find some way to... entertain you."

She giggled merrily as I began to kiss her again.

****

Aylebourne Apartment
12:25 p.m.


"What are you thinking about?"

Jessie looked up from the mug of tea she was sipping. She smiled as she answered, "I was thinking of Agent Mulder."

I was surprised. For some reason, this wasn't an answer I expected. "Really?" I asked.

She nodded.

"My, my, my, Jessie," I grinned at her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were rather taken with our Agent Mulder."

She then did something completely unexpected. She blushed.

I felt my grin widen. "Give, Jessie," I teased. "You find him attractive, don't you?"

"Well," she said with a grin of her own. "He is cute, in a manic sort of way."

I laughed. "Manic does seem to be the perfect word to describe him."

"Oh," she sighed, taking another sip of tea. "He's really not that bad. He means well."

"Agent Scully is rather nice," I smiled, remembering the dance she and I had shared. "But then I'm biased towards redheads."

"Thank God for that," she giggled.

We fell silent again, each getting lost in our own thoughts. Mine turned to the previous night and our talk with the Agents. I remembered how Agent Mulder had drawn that damn symbol on a napkin, then pressed me for information about it. How I had felt physically ill even at the sight of it. How it represented the worst part of my long past, a part I wanted nothing to do with anymore.

Agent Scully had asked me about Anna. Perhaps not by name, but she had asked about her. I hadn't thought of Anna for a while now. That certainly didn't mean that I had stopped loving her, I doubted I ever would. But Jessie was the main force in my life now.

Yet, thinking of Anna always seemed to bring back the past and this time it was coming back to me with a vengeance in the form of a man I once admired and called a friend.

If he was behind these kidnappings, if he was trying to warn me, to pull me back into Osiris' Ghosts, I knew Jessie was in grave danger.

I closed my eyes as memories flooded me and I shuddered as I remembered what I had once been. I had been something so angry, so terrible, that the suffering of others had meant nothing to me. I was cold to it, dead to it. It simply didn't matter to me. For so long, I just let people suffer, and in many cases was the cause of it.

It wasn't until the brutal murder of a small boy that I realized what sort of monster I had become.

In my mind, I could still see his small face, his wide eyes filled with terror as the knife was drawn across his throat. He had died slowly as his blood had flowed from his tiny body. And I had done nothing to stop it; nothing to even try.

Even now, centuries later, I was still paying for it; still searching for redemption. But now, I was beginning to believe there was no redemption for my past sins; that there was a special corner in hell reserved for me.

"Peter?" A soft voice and a gentle touch on my arm startled me, pulling me from my memories. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Jessie's pale green eyes. "Are you all right?"

I managed a smile. "I'm fine," I answered. "Just contemplating a few things."

She opened her mouth to respond when the intercom buzzed. "I'll get that," she said softly.

She hopped up and darted over to the door. Touching the button, she called out, "Yes?"

"Delivery."

She touched the buzzer. "Take the back elevator up," she instructed.

"Okay."

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. As I came out of the kitchen after putting our tea mugs into the dishwasher, I found Jessie studying a flat letter delivery envelope. She looked up at me.

"It's for you," she said, holding it out to me.

I took the envelope from her and studied it intently. My eyes fell on the airbill and I frowned. Whoever had sent it must have known something about me; my last name was spelled correctly. That rarely happened.

I pulled the side tab on the envelope, tearing it open. Reaching inside, my fingers touched paper. Yet somehow, it wasn't. It was rougher than regular paper, heavier.

Tugging it out, I found myself staring at a folded piece of parchment. A heavy feeling settled in my stomach.

Opening the parchment, a wave of nausea hit me as I stared at the symbol drawn there, nearly filling the page.

An inverted ankh.

Beneath it were five words, written in flowing script.

"It's time to come home."

At that moment, cold dread began to flow through me. My chest began to heave as I tried to draw in air. But it didn't work. I couldn't breathe. All around me, the world was spinning and I could feel myself swaying.

The last thing I was aware of was Jessie frightened cry as I collapsed to the floor.

****

Scully

Cook County General
2:45 p.m.


I knocked on the door to Jeremiah Adderley's room, wishing not to disturb him in case he was sleeping.

"Mr. Adderley?" I asked, leaning into the door.

"Ah! That is the voice of my lovely angel! Come in, come in!" he called from within.

"Mr. Adderley, I need to talk to you," I said, entering.

He was sitting propped up on the bed, reading a book. He tossed it casually aside when he saw me approaching, clearing a space for me to sit beside him. He was a handsome man, with a long, thin face and bright blue eyes. He was looking much healthier than the last time I'd seen him.

"And for heaven's sake, call me Jeremiah. Mr. Adderley is my father. And I'm not really on speaking terms with him," Adderley said, reaching for my hand to hold it. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

"First of all, I owe you an apology. I haven't been exactly honest with you the last time we'd met," I started, staring at our joined hands. I slipped mine slowly away, establishing a professional atmosphere as best as I could.

"A dishonest angel? Interesting," he said, folding his hands in his lap.

I reached for my ID badge and showed it to him. "My real name isn't Laura Petrie. It's Dana Scully. I work for the FBI."

Adderley cocked his head to the side, then reached for my ID. "May I?"

I handed it to him, and watched his face as he studied it. His face broke into a huge smile.

"My dear, this picture does not do you any justice," Adderley said, handing it back. "So now you are a government endorsed guardian angel. And I must confess, I do like the name Dana Scully much better than Laura Petrie. Being named after a plastic dish just isn't right."

"Blame my partner," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. Never let Mulder pick out names undercover.

"That man the other night?" Adderley asked. "The handsome one, with the dark hair and dark eyes? He's your partner? My, my, my. Lucky you."

"I'm here investigating your kidnapping. I'd like to take some blood samples, with your permission," I said, trying to focus back on the case.

"Oh, you're not going to stick me with a needle, are you? I've had quite enough needles in the past few days, thank you," he replied, folding his arms tightly.

"Please, Mr. Adderley," I said. "I'd really like to find out what I can, if there are any clues in your blood."

"Oh, who am I to deny an angel anything?" Adderley smiled, holding his arm out. "Go ahead. Play vampire."

I looked up, freezing at that word. The room grew silent for a moment. Was Mulder right? Did he know something more?

"Thank you," I said, gently swabbing his arm down carefully. I took out the syringe and pierced the skin. Adderley flinched dramatically, then smiled at me. "You haven't managed to remember anything, have you?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Flashes. Images. But they slip away before I can grab hold of them," he stopped. "And I've been having strange dreams. What are you looking for exactly in my blood?"

"There seems to be some kind of viral agent that all the kidnapped victims have in common," I said quietly at I worked. "It fades away quickly, so I think you may give me a better chance to examine it."

"Viral agent," he said, growing quiet. My eyes met his again. He didn't seem very surprised. Actually, he seemed nervous. But then he broke into a laugh. "My dear, this adventure of mine keeps getting better and better!"

"Mr. Aylebourne tells me you've been friends for a long time," I said, applying pressure to the spot over the needle, drawing it out slowly. I pressed a cotton swab over his vein to stop the bleeding.

"Yes, he is my dearest friend as well," Adderley replied. I had a distinct impression he knew more than what he was letting me believe about the Aylebournes.

I reached across, examining his eyes. "You said you had dreams earlier. What did you dream about?"

"That I'm trying to find my way home. But everywhere I turn, black walls block my way," he shuddered, falling back on the pillow. His hand reached up and rubbed the side of his neck.

"I've been kidnapped," I said, staring at his neck. I felt compelled to tell him I understood what it was like. I knew, all too well. "In the line of duty, many times. I do know how you feel."

"Did you ever lose your memory, too? It's a horrible feeling not to know what happened to you, isn't it?" he asked, reaching for my hand again.

"One time, I was gone for weeks and I still can't remember anything substantial of my abduction," I answered, taking a deep breath.

Adderley clutched our hands tighter. "Oh dear. I must be bringing back such terrible memories for you."

I don't know why I felt compelled to continue telling him about it, but I did. Violations. I wondered if he was experimented on as well.

"I woke up in a hospital bed with no recollection," I said, laying my other hand over our joined ones. "I wanted you to know I understood. We never found the men responsible for my kidnapping. But I want to find the one responsible for yours."

He smiled at me. "You really are my guardian angel."

"Hardly," I replied, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "But let's just say...I've been there."

"Thank you. I needed to hear that," Adderley said, closing his eyes.

"May I see the marking?" I asked gently.

"Of course, dearest angel," he said, holding his left arm out to me. "It's faded a touch. Peter told me that henna wears off in about two weeks."

My finger traced the ankh and I heard Mulder's voice in my head, telling me his theories. "It could be the symbol for everlasting death."

"Yes, I know. I'm tempted to try and scrub it off. I don't like the idea of something so malicious being a part of my body," he said, shuddering again. He reminded me of a bird, shaking his feathers into place.

"You know?" I asked, surprised by that admission. "Who told you that?"

"Peter did," he answered simply.

He did, did he? I thought. He didn't share that information with us last night. Suspicious.

"Thank you," I said, standing up to go. I gathered my sample and equipment.

"For what? All I did was let you play vampire and show you the funny thing on my wrist." He smiled. "I feel I owe you a little more than just that, Dana."

"Thank you for being honest with me," I clarified.

He reached out and took my hand in both of his. "Thank you for being honest with me. Right now, I think I need someone who understands. I've felt very alone for the past two days."

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers politely.

"I'll let you know what the results are," I said, slipping my hand out of his. How did such a charming man have gotten involved in all this?

"I'm sorry, Dana. I seem to have led you down the primrose path," he called as I turned to go.

"Primrose path?" I asked, reaching for the handle of the door.

"I've gotten this impression from you that, well...perhaps, some part of you was hoping for more than friends," he said, smiling at me.

"How so?" I asked. But he knew I had more than just professional interest in his ordeal. I had made it personal. My personal quest to find out what happened. To explain the virus. He interpreted this as something more.

"Just a feeling. If I'm mistaken, please forgive me," Adderley said charmingly. "I certainly wouldn't want to hurt my own guardian angel."

"No harm done. I know all the good ones are either married or gay," I smiled. "And you have no ring on your finger."

He laughed and clapped his hands. "Bravo! The great detective at work. Until we meet again, dear angel."

How lucky the Aylebourne's were to have such a loyal friend. One so dedicated to them. How far would he go to protect them? I wondered...

****

6:30 p.m.
Cook County General


I was running late, the lab was slow in processing the blood work up. I should probably call Mulder. He had called earlier, just to tell me our flight out of Chicago was leaving early tomorrow. I wouldn't have much time to finish the blood work here. I would have to ship it back to DC and Quantico. But I was able to detect that same virus in Adderley's blood. It was more concentrated than any of the other victims. But it was fading faster than anticipated. Even in the sample I'd taken today, I noticed it seemed to be breaking down hour by hour. I wanted to get another sample before I left, just so I'd have it.

I walked briskly down the hospital corridor to Adderley's room. I'd left my coat in the lab, so I didn't have my cell phone to call Mulder as I walked. I glanced at my watch. It was getting late. I had so much to do tonight. There was so much to tell Mulder. I felt like I was on the brink of discovering something. To prove to Mulder that science can explain the unexplained. I didn't believe in vampires like he did. Creatures of evil, shunning the crucifix and changing into bats. But what if there was a rational, scientific explanation for a human that drinks blood to sustain its life?

I felt like I was running on pure adrenaline. For once, FOR ONCE...maybe I'd beat Mulder to the explanation. A scientific one. Just one more sample from Adderley, and maybe I'd have it.

My hand reached for the knob to his room, knocking quickly, but entering anyway.

"Mr. Adderley?" I asked, pulling the curtain back from around the bed.

But he was gone.

"Jessica," said a voice behind me. A dark voice. "How nice of you to come."

I turned around quickly...into darkness...enclosing me....

****

Jessie

Aylebourne Apartment
2:45 p.m.


I wanted to scream when Peter passed out. But I was so frozen with fear that the only sound that escaped me was a small cry. Rushing forward to his side, I turned him over, half expecting him to be in convulsions from a hunger seizure. It had been a while since we'd both fed and the hunger was gnawing at both of us. So I was relieved to find him lying perfectly still.

My relief quickly turned back to fear when I saw the parchment he'd pulled from the envelope; the inverted ankh, the words "It's time to come home."

What the hell did that mean?

I gained many things when I was turned. I also lost many things. But for me, what I lost was an easy sacrifice to spend the rest of a long life with Peter.

One of things I gained was extra body strength. So picking up Peter's unconscious body and carrying it to the sofa in the studio wasn't a problem.

I rushed back to the kitchen and put together a cold compress. But as I headed towards the studio, I spotted the delivery envelope and the piece of parchment scattered across the floor. Snatching them both up, I headed back to the studio and to Peter.

Kneeling beside the sofa, I dropped the papers next to me and carefully laid the compress over Peter's forehead. There would be time to study them in a minute. Right now, my focus was on my husband.

His face was peaceful; a far cry from the look of pure panic I'd seen there just before he'd collapsed. Seeing that he was all right, I turned my attention to the papers lying on the floor next to me. I glanced at the parchment for a moment, but seeing that I couldn't recognize the handwriting on it, I set it aside.

What interested me was the airbill on the envelope. I sat there for a long time, well over an hour, studying it and thinking. I received enough sheet music by delivery service to know a bit about how they were set up. Studying it, I looked for a section marked "Sender." A box marked "Third Party" was checked. Beneath it was scribbled a credit card number. I frowned. Whoever this was, they couldn't be that stupid, could they?

"Jessie?"

Peter's soft groan of my name made me look up. He had pulled the compress from his head and he peered at me.

"It's okay," I said gently, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

"No," he whispered, his voice becoming choked. "No, it's not. It's very far from being okay."

"What are you talking about?"

He sat up and silently buried his face in his hands. "He won't stop," I heard him mumble. "He won't stop until he's destroyed everything that means something to me."

"Who?"

He sighed, pulling his hands from his face. "His name is Cyrus." He let out a bitter laugh. "I don't even know his last name. I never wanted to know." His laughter quickly died. "He and I are the only survivors of Osiris' Ghosts. I survived because I walked away. He survived because he killed anyone he even suspected of betraying him. As time went on, he became more and more paranoid, more and more insane. He actually began to believe he was a god and that dark forces were destroying Osiris' Ghosts." He sighed. "He never once believed that he was the one that destroyed the Ghosts with his insanity and his paranoia." He shook his head. "Cyrus has been trying to pull me back in for centuries, get the Ghosts riding again. He believes the only way he can do that is by destroying everything that's precious to me. That way, I'll have no choice but to go back to him." He reached out and brushed his fingertips along my jaw. "And to me, you are the most precious of all."

"So he'll try and destroy me," I whispered.

"I won't let him, Jessie," he whispered fervently. "I won't ever let him have the chance."

I pulled myself up from where I was kneeling next to the sofa and settled myself down next to him. He turned to me and wrapped his arms around me. I silently buried my face in his shoulder and inhaled his wonderful spicy scent, coupled with a touch of sandalwood. It comforted me.

"Why is this happening?" I whispered.

"It's me, Jessie," he whispered. "My past. Coming back to haunt us both."

"My past did that once," I said softly. "And we got through that. Remember?"

"Yes."

I looked up at him. "So who's to say we won't get through this?"

He suddenly smiled, though it was laced with sadness. "I love you."

I gently kissed him. "I love you, Peter."

As he hugged me again, the phone suddenly rang.

Peter hugged me a little tighter. "Let the machine get it."

We didn't move as we heard the answering machine beep quite loudly. Then Jeremiah's voice rang out.

"Hello, my dears. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you two are off somewhere trying very hard to exhaust each other. So I'll just leave the traditional message. I am home, my dears. They released me today and gave me a somewhat clean bill of health. I say somewhat because the very sweet Laura Petrie, otherwise known as FBI Agent Dana Scully, came by and took a sample of my blood. She said that there is some sort of viral agent lurking about my circulatory system. Could one of you call me please? This is making me quite nervous." A moment later, the machine beeped again, signaling the end of the call.

I felt Peter hug me even tighter, and I quietly clung to him.

We didn't bother to count the hours we held on to each other.


****


Continued in Chapter Six