Title: "Playing With Fire Part Nine"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG-13
Archive: Sure.
Summary: The killer is captured at last.
Warning: Darkness, and death.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Jean-Claude, or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. She is a dragon version of me. I've included the end of Part Eight at the beginning of this part inside <<>>. I use // for thoughts, :: for telepathy, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Playing With Fire Part Nine"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2002St Louis
Circus of the Damned
Sunday Feb 25, 2001
<<"I trust you will tell him our meeting went well?" The Master of the City asked, his voice once more bland.
"You can rely on it Jean-Claude," Becca promised him as she went out the door.>>
Hotel
Bailey's Room"How'd the meeting with the Master of the City go?" Malone asked Drake, not looking up from his drink.
"It went well. We're covered. There won't be any unwanted preternatural interruptions," Becca assured him as she walked up to the table, but didn't take a seat.
"Good. I talked to Dolph. We can have the warehouse tomorrow morning. He'll let us have it empty, *but* he insists on being on stand by outside with the paramedics," Bailey informed her, looking up to see her eyes.
"Dolph insists on being there...can't say as I blame him. It is his city the killer has been hunting in. I guess as long as he doesn't get a good look at my true form while we're stopping the salamander..." Drake allowed with a shrug.
"How are we going to stop the salamander?" Malone questioned.
"It will separate from the sorcerer when I die, when I heal nothing will be keeping it here. Or there shouldn't be anything keeping it here. I might have to make some fire for the salamander to travel through to it's elemental plane," Becca explained.
"Travel through to it's elemental plane?" Bailey shook his head as soon as he'd said it, "Don't bother trying to explain it."
"How long will you be dead?" Malone asked next.
"Truthfully? I'm not sure. It won't be enough to kill me neatly. The ritual will require my blood be spilt. I've never had my throat slit before," Drake answered him neutrally.
"Your throat slit?" Bailey had agreed to kill her, but...
"Ritual work is generally done with a knife. One clean heart blow would kill me, but it might not produce enough blood for the ritual. Slitting my throat will generate plenty of blood. If you're not up to it Bailey...," Becca's voice softened.
"Six years in Special Forces, remember. I can do it," Malone promised her.
Drake nodded silent acceptance of his promise, and sat down across from him, "Shall we eat, drink, and be merry?"
"For tomorrow you die," Bailey poured her a drink.
Hotel
Hallway
Monday Feb 26, 2001"Ready to slay the dragon?" Becca smiled impudently.
"Ready to catch the killer," Malone responded his mouth set in a grim line.
"Sergeant Storr already out at the warehouse waiting for us?" Drake asked more soberly.
"Dolph and the paramedics will meet us out there," Bailey answered.
"Great. I hope we've got the ritual right. It'll be a terrible shame if we...go through everything and don't get this guy," Becca observed dryly.
"Detective Reynolds, George, and you have been over the ritual. It's been checked and double checked. We're ready, Becca. We just have to do this," Bailey gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.
"Have I mentioned recently how grateful I am *we* are doing this?" Drake squeezed his hand on her arm.
"This is the first time you've mentioned it this morning," Malone grinned at her before pushing her down the hall.
Warehouse
"I do the ritual, kill you, and the salamander appears," Bailey began.
"I heal, send the salamander home, and Dolph and the paramedics come in for our serial killer," Becca finished for him.
"What do I do if it takes you a while to heal?" He asked warily.
"Mostly, stay the Hell out of the salamander's way. It won't listen to you. The salamander won't take commands until it's...consumed the sacrifice. It'll be totally focused on me. I'm the blue plate special," she told him as she knelt in her spot at the center of the ritual's pattern.
"Stay out of it's way. What about keeping the sorcerer alive?" Bailey moved away from her towards the beginning of the pattern.
"Depending on where the salamander-sorcerer come in, you may be able to call the paramedics in as soon as the salamander splits from the sorcerer. You just have to remember *everyone* needs to stay out of its way," Becca answered, trying not to tense up before he began the ritual.
"Ready?" Malone called to her from the beginning of the pattern.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Drake responded, waiting for him to begin.
Hospital
John's RoomGrant tossed in his bed. He hadn't slept well. His dreams had been full of nightmare images of Becca. He saw her lying in a pool of her own blood her throat slit. John watched her burn, the smell of her burnt hair following him out of the nightmare. Grant opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, //I wonder if they've begun the ritual. Becca said they'd do it today.//
Someone had already been by to tell him they were ready to discharge him.
//"You're out of here today. Finally get to go home. Pretty great huh?" I wonder where Becca is going when this case is over,// John closed his eyes again. He'd been a part of the VCTF for five years -- lived in Atlanta longer still -- but somehow the thought of it as home without her...
Warehouse
As soon as Malone began the ritual Drake felt the power respond, //This is not good. I shouldn't be able to feel it. I couldn't sense the cloaking spell or the ritual remains.//
Becca tried to tell him, and got another shock, //I can't move, can't speak, can't get a sound out of my mouth. The damn ritual must have a component to keep the sacrifice from getting away. I'm trapped, and Bailey is going to kill me. He's probably going to *really* kill me.//
Malone moved through the ritual concentrating on everything Drake had told him he had to do. He came to stand behind her, and noticed how quiet and still she was being, //Moment of truth.//
Bailey held up the knife she'd told him to use for the ritual. Malone spoke the promise to seal the ritual with a sacrifice, and slit Becca's throat.
Hospital
John's RoomGrant sat bolt up right in his bed, //I can't breathe! I can't breathe!!//
John fought to clear the panic and breathe, //Something's wrong.//
As his breathing eased he tried to decide where the panic had come from, //I wasn't asleep. It wasn't a dream.//
At least his burst of panic hadn't brought a wave of concerned hospital personnel into his room, //I guess word has gotten around my discharge papers are being processed. Yay. What's wrong?//
:: What's wrong? :: John tried, not sure if there was anyone listening.
:: Dying...I'm dying, :: a voice whispered back that sounded very much like Becca's.
:: Briefly, for the ritual. You said you'd be fine. You *promised* you'd be fine, :: he reminded her.
:: I thought...I thought I would...I didn't know...I... :: her voice got fainter each time it broke.
:: Don't you leave me Becca. Don't leave me! :: John growled fiercely, hoping she was still listening.
Warehouse
The salamander had come as soon as Drake's blood had splashed onto the ground. There had been a moment when Malone could see the sorcerer floating in its fiery center then the salamander had discarded the sorcerer and covered Becca.
//"Stay the Hell out of its way," I can feel the heat radiating off of it from here,// Bailey shook his head as he moved towards the sorcerer, keeping his distance from the salamander.
Malone was worried that Drake hadn't gotten up yet, but she hadn't been sure how long it would take her to heal. Bailey could see that the sorcerer needed medical attention immediately.
//You're right Becca he's only "mostly dead,"// Malone thought as he got to the sorcerer. Drake had said the salamander would stay focused on her. It was time to call the paramedics. Bailey turned his radio on, and told them to come on in.
Hospital
John's Room:: I'm burning....burning... :: Becca's faint mind voice whimpered.
John shook his head trying to deny remembering the smell of her hair burning, :: You're a dragon you can't burn. ::
:: I'm not...not a dragon...not a dragon to the ritual, :: she tried to explain.
:: What the Hell difference does that make? You *are* a dragon, Becca. You *can't* burn, :: he told her forcefully.
:: I am? I can't? :: Becca asked doubtfully.
:: That's what you've told me, :: John answered. The knot of terror in the pit of his stomach began to ease as she kept responding. Becca hadn't told him dragons couldn't burn, but he had the feeling it was the right thing to say.
:: I am a dragon...I *am* a dragon...I am... :: She didn't exactly seem to be saying it to him, but he could still hear it.
::Yes you are, :: he assured her.
:: John, I love you, :: Becca seemed to wrap the feeling around him.
:: I know. I love you too, :: John tried to wrap her in the feeling.
Warehouse
Detective Sergeant Rudolph Storr entered the warehouse behind the paramedics.
"What the Hell is going on in here Malone?" Storr yelled as he squinted against the heat from the salamander.
"It's under control," Bailey answered him evenly. He wasn't sure it was true, but he said it anyway.
"Under control?" Dolph repeated, looking at the salamander settled over Drake's unmoving body.
"We've got your perp right here," Malone told him, gesturing to the sorcerer the paramedics were already attending to.
Storr glanced at the sorcerer, and a flicker behind him brought his attention back to the salamander. Under it Drake's still from changed -- one moment it was a limp human the next it was a towering golden dragon. The flames that made up the salamander's form wreathed the dragon's form making each scale glow.
"Don't *ever* let me do anything that suicidally stupid *ever* again Bailey Malone," the dragon boomed out. It sat up on its hind legs, and spread its wings as far as it could inside the warehouse.
"The salamander isn't gone," Bailey pointed out to Becca with a grin.
"I told you I might have to help it back to its own plane," the dragon humphed. She opened her mouth giving Dolph a good look at all her sharp teeth, and produced a blast of fiery dragon's breath.
"Damn," Storr whispered as the salamander seemed to swirl into the dragon's breath and vanish.
"It's under control," Malone repeated, patting Dolph on the shoulder.
"I'm wrecked," Becca said tiredly. Storr could hear the exhaustion in the deep draconic voice.
"So come down here," Bailey gestured for her to settle down on to her forefeet.
"Coming," she answered, shifting back to her human form as she moved -- landing on the floor on her hands and knees.
Malone moved to help her up off the floor. When he got closer he could see how bloodied and burned Becca was, "You look awful."
"I need a hot bath, a long nap, and John Grant. Not necessarily in that order," she informed him.
"May I suggest taking the bath before you try to see John. Show up at the hospital the way you look now, and they'll want to admit you," Bailey smiled hugging her.
*The End of "Playing With Fire"*