Grimoire

"So where do we start?"

"We don't have to go far." Lively looked outside the car window, observing the scenery and trying to match it with what he had seen in his mind. "She's close. She wouldn't have been able to affect me so deeply if she wasn't close."

"Jason," Morris glanced over at him. "Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe we should get some help."

"And who do you suggest?" Lively spat. "Who do you suggest we go to for help? The police? Got a colleague or two that believes in the power of the grimoire?"

"You know I don't, Jason."

"Then don't ask. We're on our own or should I say,

I'm

on my own." He huffed, still scouring the landscape as it fled by. "I knew that I should never have involved you."

"You weren't saying that when I was saving you from 'The Great One'."

Silence pervaded the car and Lively knew that he'd gone too far, hurting the detective's feelings. After all, he would have been in jail right now if it wasn't for her and The Great One would have likely already fed from him moments ago had she not stepped in and taken control of the situation. He owed everything to her.

"I'm sorry, Helaine. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm a big girl, Jason. I can take care of myself."

"Not against this, you can't." He said softly. "The Great One is born from all of the sin in the world. She was created at the dawn of time and every generation of my family must send her back into the void."

"How is it that she gets free each time?"

"No one knows. It's almost as if the Devil plants a seed and she springs up, fully formed from a wound in the Earth."

"Does she spring from the same place each time?"

"I don't know. There are no records of first sightings."

"Your predecessors didn't keep any records about her?"

"Not really." Jason glared at a building for a minute, then looked away. "There is never enough time to lay pen to paper."

"Why not?"

"Helaine, I don't know how to explain this to you. I do not exist."

"What? You had one too many beers at dinner, Jason."

"No, I didn't. I don't exist. I don't have a social security number, I never went to school and I've never had a job. I was born and exist for the express purpose of killing The Great One."

Morris rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling the tension pulse there. "Jason, I've tried to be as supportive as possible, even though I run people like you over to the psych ward on a daily basis. But this is going too far."

"Pull the car over."

"Jason ... "

"Just pull over for a moment."

When Morris had found a place to park, she shut the car off, turning to him. "What now?" Lively showed her his hands and she examined them, noting that both palms were perfectly smooth. Skepticism ruled her as she released him, scowling and shaking her head. "You could have had them burned off."

"Then where's the scar tissue?"

Morris couldn't answer that. True, there should have been scars or at least something that showed that the regular whorls and lines existed. There was nothing. "You could have been born like that."

"I was but it wasn't due to any disease. It was because I was born the same way that all the other Livelys have been born."

"How do you pay for things?"

"The Legacy Corporation. I'm taken care of."

"You don't have to pay for anything?"

"Never have. My apartment, my car ... everything belongs to the Corporation. The Legacy is well-protected and well-cared for."

"That must be nice." She maneuvered the car back into traffic, angry that while she had to work her ass off, all he did was lie around, supposedly waiting to kill this chick. "Wish I could find a gig like that."

"You don't want a 'gig' like this, Helaine." Jason sighed, still searching the buildings. "Knowing that each day you live may be your last."

The detective turned and stared at him for as long as she could before returning her focus to the road. "Is it really that hard?"

Lively nodded. "Many people don't like Timothy Dalton's portrayal of James Bond but I do." He hesitated. "You know why?"

"No, why?"

"Because if you read any of Fleming's books, you would know that Bond lived every day, every second of the day as if it was his last. He was very aware of death hanging over his shoulder like the sword of Damocles, but he ignored it, choosing to live hedonistically instead of waiting for the ax to fall." Lively looked over at her. "Dalton captured that dark essence perfectly. He didn't crack jokes like Moore or exist on charm like Connery. And he certainly wasn't vain like Brosnan. He was an ordinary man who performed an extraordinary service." His voice broke. "An ordinary man, like me."

While Morris thought on his words, the young man grabbed her arm.

"This is it! This is the place I saw! She's here!"

The detective once again found a place to park, looking up at the building. "Now what?"

The excruciatingly loud noise of metal being ripped apart filled the tiny space as something rolled the roof back like the lid on a tin of sardines. Morris wanted to scream but couldn't; Lively wanted to move but was unable to.

Smiling happily, The Great One cast them into unconsciousness.

"Thank you for coming to me."

Her dark eyes hungrily devoured Lively's limp form.

"Shall we begin?"