Chapter Three
Introducing the Kings and Queens.
Rosie, sighed to herself. Her day was not going as planned, she looked out the window of the bus she sat in. it had been a long week, Her breakdown the other week well it was a sign that she was either accepting her past or she was going insane. She didn't know which of the two it was. Her house had been destroyed.
It had been a two story home, smaller than most, with two rooms' upstairs- her master ensuite bedroom as well as an ensuite, downstairs there was a large kitchen/ sitting room.t was a large open-spaced area, with a huge bay window overlooking the forest. There was a range- which she used for most of her cooking, it took a lot of practices and patience to get it to the temperatures she needed for certain spells, but it just made them stronger and more difficult to break, something which she had been glad of many a time.
It had been beautiful, until it was compromised by one of her contacts, it had been her favourite of her safe houses, one of her most secure to date.
Jacob, he had been the only person she had trusted with its whereabouts, and the only reason she had told him where it was, well she needed someone who could find her stuff and finish the job if she was killed, and part of her deal meant she was a false immortal.
It was very difficult to really difficult to kill a false immortal. False immortals lived until they were either beheaded or burned. They would heal from bullet wounds, though it might take a few days too. True immortals could not be killed, they were able to regenerate certain body parts- if they were completely destroyed.
To kill them, it was either beheading, or removal of the heart, other than she would not die, she did not get sick, bullets through the arms did not kill her, nor through any other body parts, which she had discovered on numerous occasions.
She smiled to herself- destroying her US hideout had given to some degree eased the rage she had had inside her after the mess she had made. There was nothing she could do about it now, damage control wasn't an option. She could not find any of the men; Cain, David nor Jacob, they had all gone deep underground.
Rosalie was going under the assumption that all her contacts had been compromised. There was nothing to do but continue on as she had, previously.
Rosalie's pride refused to allow her to accept what help the WSC (World Supernatural Council) had offered her; well what little help, offering to give her information she had already obtained, or would not be allowed access too. She could not bring herself to trust them, there was something weird about their deal, she could not understand why they were offering help now, and had refused to even think or investigate what she had been talking about.
The WSC probably wouldn't give her any help; giving Rosalie's Le Mon's brain or his soul to her now that they knew the truth.
Rosie sighed to herself, shaking her fringe out of her eyes, her once black hair had been bleached. She had changed it at home, home bleach and gotten it cut in a house, a woman she knew who cut the hairs of friends, luckily that woman owed her a favour. Wigs were useless she didn't want the hassle of putting it on, securing it and keeping her own hair clean. She had been growing it for the last two years, and it had now been chopped off. It was blonde and had been cut into a bob, oh how she hated it, but it was necessary she needed to be as non-descript as possible, her clothing was that of a business woman, pencil skirt, white blouse and a blazer, with a pair of running shoes to complete the look of a frazzled business woman on her way home from a long day at the office.
All her clothing had been bought from various charity shops around the capital of Ireland, ones she visited the a few days ago. She was not however going home to a husband and two children after a long day in a small cubicle staring at a computer screen. Besides who is going to notice an angry looking young blonde woman in business attire, they are everywhere. She was using any and all stereotypes that she could.
She had only two parts of Le Mon left to gather, before his body was complete and he would live normally; one was the most important; Le Mon's brain. Le Mon's soul, while vital, would suffer if she did not have a brain to hold it in, and allow his conscious to work.
She was working non-stop to fulfil her part of the bargain, then she could be left alone in peace. Le Mon's heart was the last thing on her list of parts that she needed to find. His body had been separated into the head, trunk, two arms and legs.
His brain and heart were removed as was his soul and all other innards. Le Mons brain and soul were in separate locations from the rest of his body; as an immortal it was only precautionary to keep them away.
He could live without his brain for a while, but the supernatural world, were prepared to use any and all methods to stop him becoming whole and go on a rampage.
Rosalie smiled and pressed the button as her stop came into view. It was a beautiful village, with plenty of happy looking homes. There was the typical mix of modern and rural styles, from people attempting to change and bring the place into the twenty-first centuries, to those whose families had lived there for generations and were happy with the way things were.
Her rental car, which had been a good idea turned out to be a dud. There was, however, thanks to the easy laid back view of the Irish, the option of buying a car and using that. It was a little more risky, if she was caught she would be arrested straight away as she had a warrant out for her arrest.
There was nothing she could do now, motorcycles would be too obvious, they were more expensive, and bicycles would not get her there and away fast enough, while a car, it was at that awkward stage of being too good, and a bad idea at the same time. However this was the only option she had left.
Rosalie had been getting as many buses as possible, and had ended up heading out to Kerry, in the middle of nowhere and she had just passed by a car that had a for sale sign and a phone number on it. It was why Rosalie was stopping the bus in this godforsaken town, it was an easy twenty minute walk to the car, and by the time she rang the owner, got through to them and saw the car- well she was going to buy it. She only needed to get to the village in Mayo, getting a bus there would be fine; leaving the village, however, in the middle of the night, well that would leave her with too many problems.
Planning this break in had been easy. All she needed to do was get into the house, the rest would be accomplished then. As easy going as the Irish were, the local pack was not so easy going, they had some of the toughest warriors there and they also had several allegiances with local vampire's coven and the fae.
The allegiances alone were unique, his friendships with the king of the vampires was even more unheard off. They were constantly training and improving themselves.
There was no chance she could screw this up, the brain was going to be the hardest one to obtain. The heart not as difficult. Rosalie smiled to herself as the bus came to a stop.
She thanked the bus driver and hopped off. He bid her good day and smiled to her as Rosalie turned and waved.
Rosalie good mood rubbing off on the previously angry bus driver- his stomach had been at him again, the ulcer was acting up and his tablets to fix it had not yet kicked in, but to have such a tired, yet happy looking and pleasant woman on his bus was a nice change from the usual angry business commuters.
Rosalie took out her phone searching for the number she had saved as the bus had ambled past the for sale car. The cars soon to be former owner answered, surprised that someone wanted to buy the car. He was happy to be rid of it, he had bought himself a new car and had no need for the old Peugeot that he had learned to drive in.
John agreed to meet her at the car in thirty minutes, just so she could give it a once over.
Rosalie waved at John as she drove away in her newly purchased black Peugeot. John flinched, his left eye puffing up. Rosalie, had not wanted to buy the car, she had very little money. Instead she had robbed him. The car was one of the more frequently seen cars she had noticed while on the bus, it would blend in with every other driver in the country.
Rosalie turned the radio on, and started singing along to one of her favourite tunes - Rhythm of love by Plain White T. enjoying her journey, winding through the mountainous west of the Irish landscape. She enjoyed the freedom it offered her.
She was generally so busy planning and sourcing information that the little things- like driving to a location in her search for Le Mons body, were seen as luxuries.
It was a sunny evening driving along the west coast of Ireland. There was a gusty wind blowing alongside her leaves raced against her new car on the roadside, what little shelter there was in this exposed mountainous area was barren, or almost completely devoid of life as the trees took their annual leave and settled in for the winter. There was a freshness in the breeze, and the smell of rain and thunder.
The horizon to the west of her spoke of an oncoming thunderstorm, one that was threatening to hit any moment as she raced northwards. It was fast getting dark as the night slowly settled in. There was however a beauty in the oncoming night, as the storm fast approached Rosalie became a small bit unsettled, tonight was her most difficult night to date.