Abigail Whistler moved through the motions of a complicated martial arts kata to the tune of the music blaring through the earphones connected to her MP3 player. It had been six months since Blade had appeared and disappeared in her life in the matter of a couple of days. Her father dead, Whistler had only Blade to turn to for guidance. King was far more of a brother or a companion than a guide.
A small smile creased her face when thoughts of King came. She just couldn't figure him out, hadn't been able to for as long as they'd known each other. He was fifty percent swagger, and flaky charm. The other half was a steel hard vampire hunter whose hatred matched her own.
Even that hatred wasn't enough to squash his jovial spirit. Abigail had seen the pure animal of fury and hatred he became after he was tortured by his former sire. He had bowed to Blade then, and something had changed in him that day. His jokes came less frequently, and his training more continuous.
He was now an expert in Baja, a stick-fighting art that was perfect for the stabbing needs of vampire hunting. He trained near constantly, and became more and more withdrawn as time grew on. Abigail trained as well, but she was beginning to worry about King. Before, he had always been light-hearted and focused, now he seemed obsessed. It was a way of life for Whistler, but for King, it just seemed something he did.
As the months had gone on, Abigail realized just how much King had come to mean to her, basically because she was losing him. He'd begun to fashion his own weapons now, after Hedges had died he didn't seem to trust anyone. With a clarity beyond her years, Abigail realized that she had become shut off too, and that it wasn't the way to live a life.
She finished her katas and her thoughts, and straightened up. She needed to talk to him, she knew. It just wasn't something that could be put off. Blade had been cold and hard, and nothing else other than a fighting machine. Whistler didn't want that, and knew her father hadn't wanted that either. As she walked through the Nightstalker's latest hideaway, she noticed that Zoe was gone from her usual spot in front of the computer.
She knew that King would be up on the roof; he preferred the solitude to go through his workouts, not to mention simply pass the time in gut wrenching exercise. She wondered where Zoe was, but Michelle pointed up to the roof. Whistler nodded to the biochemist as she passed, one of the three new members that had risen up from their sleeper cells. Michelle was a biochemist that had worked with Summerfield on the DayStar plague, and was working on a booster after the first one had failed to go global.
Out the back was Radar, named for his likeness to the character on MASH. Radar was their intelligence specialist, and weapons manufacturer, coming up with all the new gizmos that the Nightstalkers used to try to tip the scales. The vampires had been decimated by the DayStar plague, and had only recently come out of hiding again. The last new member was Karen, a haematologist who had created the cure for vampirism, in post-human subjects, anyway. She and King got along well, namely because they rarely spoke to one another, other than to discuss possible new weapons that could affect vampires.
As she moved up the stairs, Whistler smirked at the sight of several half-completed UV Arc laser weapons, modified from Hedges original design. King had created a shameless rip-off of a Star Wars light-sabre. It looked like a violin bow, only longer and made from steel. While he refused to use a silver-inlaid sword, King was quite happy to use his two Sun-Blades, as he called them. He was getting very proficient at using them, although he still preferred to use his guns or his stake-gauntlets, a pair of gloves with twin wrist mounted stakes that he often referred to as paws.
As she neared the top of the stairs, Abigail heard two distinct voices, both Zoe's and Kings. King had been trying to get Summerfield's daughter to write in a diary of late, and it was almost like a game between the two. Whistler slowed her steps and came to a halt as she saw the two of them. King was sitting on the roof, leaning against the roof's boundary wall, with his diary and a small table to lean on. Nestled against him, just under his left arm, was Zoe.
Abigail stifled a smile as Zoe glanced up at King, intent on his diary, and then happily prattled on. King's hand drifted up and ruffled her hair, even as he told her to write it down. She mock growled at him, and straightened her hair. King's face creased into a smile behind his beard, and Abigail smiled as well. She just couldn't figure him out. He had the steel to back up his swagger, but the softness he showed when he thought he was alone showed someone in real pain underneath.
They were silent for a moment, until Zoe stole a glance at King's diary, and compared it with her own. "How come Abby's a rock?" Whistler frowned, and King laughed softly. He glanced up, and she ducked back behind the shelter of the open door.
"It's not that she's a rock, runt, she's more like a steady influence...You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Zoe shrugged.
"No, but you never know what you're talking about, so that makes us even." King laughed again, and Abigail heard the sound of Zoe's book as it slid to the ground. She heard clothing rustle, and chanced a peak around the corner. Zoe was lying down with her head on King's thigh, curled up like the little girl she was. King stroked her hair, and smiled softly, and Zoe sighed. "You love her heaps, don't you?"
King's face registered his surprise at the perceptive young girl as she nestled in closer. He didn't answer for a moment, and then slowly relaxed. "What makes you say that?" Zoe shrugged.
