The Wrath of the Daemon

Author's Note:

Here is part 2 of this last chapter in the Life of D. Once again, I urge readers to go back and read the previous installments, for this chapter I must recommend that you read "the Interlude," as some elements from that story will be referenced here. Where as the first part of this story focused on the internal part of the Family, this chapter will focus more on the external aspects. The previous part of this story was left on a huge cliffhanger; I had to break down that part of the story to that point as a means of foreshadowing and creating the structure for it. Spoiler alert: this story ends in a similar way.

Think of this section as a way to bring up the final threads that needed to be tied up before everything can be revealed in the next installment, which will also be the last. I can already see the angry messages heading my way, even those humble me. As a commenter once said, "its a long road to nowhere," hope you're still around and I have changed your mind. Thank you all for taking the time to read these words, enjoy.

Much love,

aka_Mike

...

She knew her targets by name only; she had never before met either of them. But she had all the information that she would need to identify them all. She was more than familiar with D's methods, but even the thoroughness of this investigation, all the details that had been uncovered in such length of time were beyond impressive. He knew exactly what he was looking for and who specifically to target. She wondered if he had placed himself in the position where he would force their hand on purpose, or if it was a design that had to take place in order to balance out the sheets. To strike out in this manner without just cause would certainly have driven the entire Family into a state of panic, and fueled by a misplaced sense of betrayal, their bloody war would have ended their existence.

But like a chess master, she could see how he waited and bid his time. How carefully he placed each and every individual piece onto the board, how he outsmarted each and every one of the names on her list. This was the Daemon at his best, this reminded her of the countless legends that she had heard regarding that man. She would be his sword, delivering just and brutal vengeance on those that had betrayed the Family. Maybe after this, she would finally feel as if her own debt to D would at least be balanced out. The two brothers had moved mountains to help in her time of need, and even when both of them insisted that her debt had been more than paid off, in her heart she felt as if not enough had been done.

She had been young, and despite her many experiences with the Family business, her social skills were not the best that they could be, and a predator took full advantage of that fact. She had met him in the most unlikely of places, during one of her infrequent trips to the library she had stumbled across the man. His choice of books was curious; the book was filled with ancient fairy tales from the early 16

th

century. It was one of her favorites.

"The last few stories are not worth the wait," she found herself saying, never before had she engaged a person in conversation first. She had always stood quiet, blending in with her surroundings. Always waiting for the other person to break the stillness in the air or to walk away from her life. But somehow, watching another person read one of her favorite books made her feel a connection with him that she had not felt with anyone before.

"I remember," he replied, his eyes did not move from the page he was currently reading, "its like they were written by a different person, the tone is completely different. It loses the flow that the earlier stories were creating."

"Exactly," she replied, her enthusiasm was palpable, "I've tried to explain that to other people but they don't understand." She stood for a second, her eyes glancing about the man for a sign of a weapon, for some form of danger. His stillness was the only thing that stood out, his calm demeanor was unsettling. As she stood there, his eyes moved from the page and immediately moved to hers, completely skipping her body. Most men she had engaged in conversation would not even attempt to disguise their glances, but this one could not be bothered to look at any other part than her eyes.

"I would imagine that they don't read it as one cohesive story," he replied, gesturing with his hand for her to join him, "instead they read it as one story and another. They are missing the entire focus of the warnings, it's a good guide for the trials of life."

"I've always wondered why the book always attracted me," she replied, "that makes a lot of sense. It's like a guiding hand."

"Edmund," he said as he stretched his hand to her, "it is a pleasure to meet a fellow book lover."

"CeCe," she replied as she took his hand into her own, "I don't think I've seen you here before."

"No," he replied, "this is the first time that I visit this library, I am in town on business and whenever I have a difficult decision to make, I always try to read this book." He carefully closed it and placed in on the table, "but I am now more than glad that I needed to make that decision."

"Why is that?" She could feel the weight of his stare, the temperature of the room seemed to be increasing the more his eyes bore into her. She wanted to get a feel for him, she needed him to be a threat, anything that would prevent her from getting close to him. The magic of his eyes, the tone of his voice, his very smell was crying out to her. She needed to be his, some innate need was driving her into some madness she was wholly unfamiliar with, that frightened her.

"Because out of every person that has walked into this library," he began, she realized then that the entire time they had been speaking their hands remained together, "I was allowed to meet you, CeCe." The sound of her name pouring from his lips was like music made for the ears of Gods alone to enjoy. To hear him speak was like a heresy she gladly committed, if need be she would spit in the face of those same Gods if they would prevent her from listening to the tones of her name upon his voice.

"Sadly," he broke the fantasy of their encounter, like a dragon that slays the knight and burns the princess alive, "I must return to my work. I do hope that you can join me for dinner, perhaps?" He held a small business card out to her, carefully she reached out to take it, afraid that somehow it would shatter with her touch.

"I...I..." she tried to answer, the words were choking her.

"Then, until tonight," he moved her hand and planted a gentle kiss upon it, "it was a pleasure meeting you, darling." From that single encounter grew a life that had become more than hectic. She would learn that his profession had him traveling as much as her own, however their own need for distance from their particular jobs prevented each other from discussing much of their professional affairs. Regardless, she grew to love him as much as she had loved another human being, his mere presence reminded her of those feelings she once had for Angel when she was far younger. It was a feeling that she welcomed with each of his return trips. Until the day she no longer felt them.

That day did not come suddenly; instead just like their romance it grew from a chance encounter. Early on they had both established their need for distance from their particular jobs, each being the solace for the other one like an escape. But their own lives were destined to cross paths on more than the single occasion in that library, the second time they crossed paths would plant that seed of doubt. She had been on one of her assignments, this one was simple enough: surveillance. For weeks on end, she had been keeping track of a target; up until she received word from D she had no idea as to the connection between this individual and the Family. She had just followed orders and had not questioned the reasons behind it.

As she had followed her target into a designer store, her normal training took over. Her eyes scanned for every entrance and exit point, any guard or law enforcement agents inside, any sort of threat that she would need to immediately neutralize. It was as her eyes wondered that she spotted the all familiar profile of the man, Edmund was walking beside another woman. While her mind immediately tried to reason any sort of connection that was not romantic in any way, her anxiety and pain was increasing with every second she looked on these two. As much as she wanted to confront him, she forced herself to continue with her assignment; she was there for the Family, her personal business would have to wait.

She did not have to wait long, as she continued to follow her target closely, pushing those thoughts and emotions that Edmund had generated aside. Her mind was well trained; even in turmoil it remained steadfast in her objective. But once her objective had been completed, and her target objectives had been achieved, she allowed her mind to return to those concerns. She needed to know who the woman was, and more importantly she needed to know why he had been there with her. But asking him directly would put her in direct conflict with their one and only rule, and that separation that they had built for each other would vanish completely.

Once again fate intervened on her behalf and crossed their paths once more as she was leaving the city that had housed her latest target. Stuck in traffic at the same time, next to each other, any doubt of his fidelity left her mind. As she looked over to his car, she could see the unmistakable movements of a woman performing oral sex on the driver. Edmund had his head leaned back against the seat, his eyes half closed. CeCe looked on, her hand wrapping itself around the butt of her weapons, as they locked eyes much in the same way they had in that library so many weeks prior, she saw recognition in his eyes. She had to give him something, instead of foolishly getting out of his car in order to try to explain his situation, he cast his eyes downward.

The woman recognized the change in mood and felt that she had done something wrong, then as she picked her head from his lap she could see the woman in the other car looking at her. She was gracious enough to blush shamefully. He took his next exit, CeCe remained with her eyes fixed on her destination; she would deliver her report and would go off to seek solace in the best way she knew how to: a drinking binge. It would be hours before her phone started ringing, she did not need to look at the display to know who it was, not many people had access to her in that particular way. The brothers would never reach out to her in such a way; their methods of communication were far more precise. By the time she had given her report and had packed an overnight bag, she had missed 30 calls. Her phone began to ring just as she was walking out the door, at the last minute she pulled it from her pocket and carelessly tossed it into her living room furniture. The door locked just as the call had again gone unanswered to her voicemail.

All thoughts of vengeance were gone from her mind, there was truly no hurt in her heart from the entire situation. Part of her knew that those actions would be more than inevitable, it was as if she had been expecting them to happen and therefore had mentally prepared herself for the outcome. To outsiders, her actions would seem more rehearsed that instinctual, but she was simply going through motions in an automatic way. Part of her wanted to join Ma and Pa and seek their comfort, but she reminded herself that they were enjoying their own company at the moment inside an extended cruise that she had given them as an anniversary gift. Her own mother had long ago remarried, and with D's permission she was allowed to leave the state with her new husband.

She had lost track of time, she knew as her eyes focused on the large lights that were welcoming her to the small building. The loud music escaped through the walls and drowned out the sounds of drunken laughter that were all too familiar inside. This was a place she often ran to when she needed to escape her life and her reality, regardless of her profession these visits were few and far in between. With a contented sigh, she made her way toward the door where she was greeted as a regular. The sound waves wrapped themselves about her, the flashing lights confusing her senses, the bodies rubbing each other to beats and musical noises swallowed her. Yes, this was the place she needed at that moment. She could forget herself, and more importantly: him.

...

"Just like that?" The snap of his fingers added to the stress of his comment, "just one word from him and everything stops?" He had been in law enforcement for years, but this was his first time as the Special Agent in Charge. It did not take a mind reader to know how unpleased he was that there was a CIA agent in his group. This was someone he could not boss around, someone he could bully into doing things his way. But more importantly, if his reputation was as good as what he'd heard, this was not a man that one should mess around with; not just because of his connections but because of his extensive background.

"That's all it took from what our sources say," Elvis replied, he was not pleased with the circumstances either. He would rather be working alone if he absolutely had to do this particular assignment, however he took a great deal of joy in knowing that his presence annoyed the Special Agent more. "Nothing more than a word from D and it all stopped."

"Too bad we can't say the same about his brother's case," the Special Agent said under his breath, the difficult roadblocks that had been thrown at their case were beginning to endanger it. His superiors had been more than a little surprised at the brilliant mind that this third brother possessed when it came to dealing with the law. Not for the last time did someone with a badge curse aloud these Three. "I still don't understand how different they are from one another, and even less how there is absolutely nothing in this man's record that we could use to our advantage. Are you sure you looked closely enough?"

"I'll pretend that you are not questioning my integrity, and are merely expressing your frustration," Elvis replied, "otherwise, someone might think that you are insinuating something."

"Just speaking aloud," the Agent replied, "its not common to see such sharp minds together, let alone related to one another so closely."

"The case was already on shaky ground," Elvis lit a cigarette, "they were too dependent on the probable cause being justified, the rest of the charges were just padding to intimidate the Public Defender. It worked too well, I think, forced our hand when he did not fight back. Such a high value asset was not going to end up in their jail cells for long."

"How come you never mentioned the brother?" The Agent looked at Elvis closely, trying to figure out some emotion behind that mask he wore. Every man had some weakness; this man could not be the exception. He already knew that D was completely off limits, this would cause him to shut down and become less cooperative. But his brothers, they were a safe middle ground where the two could meet.

"Special Agent Carter," Elvis replied, "graduated top of your class, special emphasis on Criminal Doctrine and Organized Crime. Bachelor's Degree in Sociology with an expertise in Cognitive Behavior Therapy." He paused long enough for Carter to lock eyes with him; this was the battle of wills that this young Agent had been looking for since he was appointed Special Agent in Charge. "For all intents and purposes, you are a walking, talking, lie detector that can track and predict how a criminal will behave even before the criminal knows themselves. You tell me, what possible reason I would have to conceal this man's identity or any knowledge I may have had of him?"

"You are very familiar with my resume, Agent Presley," Carter tried to swallow quietly, trying his best not to reveal just how shaken this exchange had made him. Since he arrived in this position, careful steps had been taken to make sure that no one knew his identity until he had arrived. Since that moment, Carter had been within ear shot of the CIA operative, leaving little room for him to have looked at his dossier let alone memorize those details. "I am afraid that you have me at a disadvantage, since yours is so well... retracted. However, I was merely asking a question, one of many that will need to be answered at some point before the conclusion of this investigation. But if I were to guess why you held back any information, I would certainly say that it is because of some perceived loyalty to your friend."

"Is that your opinion as a Criminal Behavior expert?"

"Yes," Carter replied, he was regaining some of his bravado. He imagined himself in a boxing ring with this Agent against the ropes. In his mind, he was pummeling his adversary as he delivered his well-practiced speech; each adjective falling like a well-aimed fist that struck the most sensitive areas.

"My friend never spoke of him," Elvis replied, "in fact he spoke very little of his family. Good thing you're not a gambling man, Special Agent Carter." He turned to walk away, but added "your expertise seems to be limited to the criminal element, maybe stick to what you know, leave the investigating to the real Agents."

Before he could say anything his phone began to ring, he recognized the number and angrily mumbled to himself. "Special Agent Carter."

"If you keep pissing off the CIA, you won't be Special Agent for long!" The voice was loud, thunderous, some would even describe it as booming; this was the voice of an FBI Director.

"How..?"

"I got a call from our CIA liaison that said that you would be trying to play 'who's dick is bigger' with their local asset," the booming voice replied, "I told him an hour ago that you wouldn't be so stupid as to try to pull a stunt like that. Tell me I was right, Agent Carter."

"An hour ago?" Carter shouted into his phone, "I just got done talking to him..."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" The Director's anger could not be denied, every angry syllable escaped through the telephone like rats jumping from a sinking ship. "Jesus Christ, Carter, what did I tell you not to do when you got selected for this fucking case?"

"But..."

"Just answer my fucking question, what was the one thing I told you, not asked, told you NOT to do during this assignment?" The anger was increasing, Carter could feel the heat of every single word radiating through the line.

"To be careful and not to piss against the wind..."

"Then why is the first thing I hear about your investigation progress dealing with you pissing against the wind?!"

"He is an unreliable asset, completely out of control, does not follow protocol, withholds information, and is entirely too close to the subject to be impartial..."

"Of course he is too close to him," the Director replied, exasperation gripping the tone of his voice with a closeness nearing closer to hate and disgust. "No one alive is as close to our Subject as this man is," he continued, "no one with shared memories, experiences, or personality is around to talk to us about this man."

"I don't understand then, what is the point in using so many of our resources for one man that we are trying to bring down?"

"You don't need to know any of that information, Agent Carter," the voice responded, "all you need to know is that you have a job to do, and so far you are royally fucking it up. Get it together, while you still have a career to salvage." Before he could respond, the line went dead.

...

Her voicemail box was full, the number of missed calls from the same number was impressive. Those calls were enough to drain the battery life from her phone, at some point he would have resorted to leaving a long trail of messages. She was not disappointed. She listened to a few of the messages, each of them more desperate than the last. However, not a single one of those messages was remotely close to an apology in any way. No sooner had she finished deleting the last of the messages that her phone sprang to life with the familiar number in the open display. Unsure what to do, she decided against reason and answered.