The People v. Eleanor Warwick

The Hornet comes to a squealing halt in front of the middle-class apartment building.

Eleanor is out and on to the sidewalk within seconds. She stares up to the sixth floor as if she can see into Cassandra’s home.

Things are quiet. The time it’s taken her to get there is more than enough for Jessie to march up to 6D and confront Cassandra. The quiet indicates whatever scrape they may have had is over.

She wonders who won.

Straightening her collar, she approaches the door. Before she can enter, Marvin darts out of the nearby alley. “Ms. Warwick!”

“Marvin? Why aren’t you in the car?”

“I came to check on Jessie! She’s not moving!”

Eyes widened, Eleanor runs over and follows Towles into the alley. The hellblood lay in a crumbled heap on the pavement. Demon’s blood pools under her head, gumming up her ebony and crimson hair. The wizard kneels beside her and gently turns her face to get a better look.

A few scrapes and a nasty gash across her hairline mar Jessie’s attractive features. Glancing up, she spies a black splatter along the edge of a nearby dumpster. She also spares a glance to Marvin. The investigator paces around like a man in a maternity ward. Eleanor can’t help but wonder what happened during their stakeout.

Embarrassed by the very thought, given their current circumstances, she chases it away.

“She’ll be all right, Marvin. Hellbloods can take a lot of punishment. She was shot in the head last night.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. And she was up and kicking butt within an hour.” Summoning her magic, Eleanor sends energies into Jessie’s body to speed up the healing process

Marvin exhales heavily as Jessie’s wound closes right before his eyes. “That must be really handy.” A smile crosses his face, but it slowly fades as he realizes Eleanor is not nearly as relieved. “What’s wrong?”

The wizard only stares at Jessie for a moment before looking up to him. “Uh…nothing. Something is just…off.”

“What do you mean?” the investigator asks, concern returning to his voice. “Is she not getting better? She’s not going to die, is she?”

“No, Marvin. It’s probably nothing,” she answers. The look in her eyes defies her words. In truth, she can’t be certain anything is wrong, but as her arcane powers delved into the hellblood, they seemed to flow easier than they had in the past. Previously, there had been something there that slightly impeded them.

A hand suddenly grasping her wrist gives her a start. Jessie’s eyes flutter open and then focus hard on Eleanor. “Why the fuck are you touching me?” she asks, her voice somehow weak and angry at the same time.

Taking her hands from Jessie’s face, Eleanor rises with a smirk. “Yeah. She’s fine.”

“Oh, thank God,” Marvin exclaims. “I was really worried.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” The hellblood picks herself up and dusts off her jacket. “Have you killed that bitch yet? If not, I’m gonna.”

“I think we’ve both been taught a lesson about what happens when we go it alone. We’re double-teaming this.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just do it,” she replies curtly as she brushes past Eleanor and heads for the entrance of the apartments. A grip on her arm brings her to a halt. She immediately glares back at Eleanor. “Are you touching me again? Seriously?”

Eleanor releases quickly. “Sorry.” The wizard’s brows arch as she stares into Jessie’s eyes. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yeah.” Jessie glances over at Marvin who is looking at her with great concern. “Why?”

“Your eyes.” Marvin begins carefully. “They look…funny.”

“Funny how?”

“They’re sort of…” Eleanor searches for a suitable description but fails.

Grunting in aggravation, Jessie storms over to the Hornet. She flings open the door and hops into the passenger seat. She turns the rearview mirror towards her.

Her hazel irises are darker than usual. They seem to be getting darker, barely perceptibly.

Thinking back to her tussle with Cassandra, the wizard seemed confident the Tempus Stone was going to cause something very unpleasant to befall her. It’s then Jessie realizes she’s been absently flexing her fingers. Mild pain spikes in her knuckles and joints.

“Jessie?” Eleanor’s voice causes her to start. “What’s the story?”

“I’m fine.” Exiting the car, she slams the door behind her. “Concussion maybe. Fuck if I know. It’ll pass.”

“You sure?” Marvin asked.

“Yes! Damn! You two doctors all the sudden?”

“Okay. You’re fine. Good.” Eleanor turns her attention back to the apartments. “I’m going to go in the front.”

“Not without me, you aren’t!”

“Yes, without you. You’re going in the window.”

Jessie cocks an eyebrow. “The window?”

“Yeah. The broken window six floors up. That is how you got down there, yes?”

“Maybe,” she answers with a shrug.

“That’s where you’re going in. I’ll confront her directly and draw her attention. Give me five minutes and then head up.”

“What about me?” Marvin asks. “I can help somehow.”

“You’ve done your job, Marvin,” Eleanor answers with a pat on his shoulder. “You should go. We’ll take it from here.”

“What? No way! There must be something- !”

“She’s right,” Jessie interrupts. Her voice softens considerably when she speaks to him. “She, uh, she just doesn’t want you to get hurt, you know?”

Marvin smirks slightly. “She doesn’t, huh?”

“No. She wouldn’t want to see that,” Jessie responds, matching his coy smile.

“I didn’t know she cared.”

“She didn’t say she did.”

“Well, she should say so.”

“Maybe, she- .”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Eleanor exclaims with a roll of her eyes. “You two can flirt when we’re done here. Okay?”

“What? We’re not flirting. Shut the fuck up.” Jessie quickly composes herself. “You really should go, though.”

“Yeah. I get it.” Marvin nods. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

“Oh, uh, you too, Ms. Warwick.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” The wizard answers without looking at him. As the investigator retreats to his car, Eleanor and Jessie turn their attention back to each other.

“All right. Give me five minutes.”

“Right.”

Eleanor heads for the entrance before the hellblood stopped her.

“Hey, Warwick.”

The wizard looks back to her. “Watch yourself. That bitch is dangerous.”

“I will,” she returns with a smile that attempts to be more confident than the woman wearing it. “Thanks.”

Eleanor stands in front of 6D for a few moments.

She knows she can’t wait too long. She wants to make sure Cassandra’s attention is on her when Jessie reaches the window. Still, she hesitates. The energies she senses on the other side of the door are foreign to her. They’re powerful and deep, like nothing she had ever felt before. It has to be the Stone.

If Cassandra has charged up the artifact, things could get dicey. Even with her and Jessie working in tandem. Looking down at the floor, she notices an eerie blue glow emerging from under the door. “Oh. Spooky lights,” she mutters. “Great.”

Clutching the doorknob, she slowly twists the handle. The blue light shines out into the hallway as she swings the passage open. Quickly stepping into the apartment, she pushes the door closed.

The lights are off, and the uninviting azure glow fills the room. Eleanor doesn’t have to look far for her quarry. Cassandra sits on the floor directly across from her.

The mangled body of a dead snake rests in one hand, her thumb gently rubbing it. In her other hand she clutches the Tempus Stone. Clearly the source of the blue light, energy emanates from it in short bursts.

Strands of copper hair hang over her face. Her eyes are closed tight and her head sways about, as if she’s barely holding on to consciousness. Not certain if she’s even aware of her presence, Eleanor takes a step forward.

“Warwick.”

Eleanor hops back. She clears her throat. “Nice lighting you’ve got in here.” As soon as she says it, she shakes her head in disgust.

What the hell was that, she thinks.

Cassandra remains silent. Eleanor glances out the window. She and Cassandra are adjacent to the opening. Jessie could still try to blindside her, but Eleanor would have feel better about a surprise attack from behind. Carefully, she begins to circle around to face the window, hoping Cassandra will choose to stay in front of her.

No such luck. She stays put. “You have no doubt come to finish what Martin Warwick started.”

“I’ve come for the Stone. Nothing more. My offer from before still stands. You can hand it over and then we can see what we can do about the issue between our Houses.”

“Our Houses?” Cassandra’s eyes snap open and glare at her. “I have no House.”

“Yeah. I know. This whole thing again.” Discreetly looking out the window and seeing nothing, Eleanor decides to keep her talking. “Look. I read Sandy Crane’s journal.”

Cassandra’s deep brown orbs flare. “Do not say that name.”

“Sandy?” she asks with a quizzical eyebrow raised.

Springing to her feet, Cassandra glares with violent intensity. “I said; do not say that name, Martin. You don’t get to say that name anymore.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute, Cassandra. You’re losing me. I’m not Martin. I’m Eleanor.” This time, she barely bothers to mask her expectant gaze out the window. “Listen, I compared that…person’s…journal to Martin Warwick’s. I admit there seems to have been some cause for suspicion, but I can’t discuss this with you while you’re trying to erase me from existence.”

“You’ve spoken with Joseph.”

“Yes. He lied to you, Cassandra. The torrent is a myth.”

The slightest of smirks forms at the edge of her mouth. “Are you sure I’m the one he lied to?”

In truth, Eleanor isn’t sure of that at all, but it won’t matter if she gets the Stone away from Cassandra. She can deal with Traveski later. Still no sign of Jessie, Eleanor decides to go on the offensive. “You know what? Enough of this crybaby nonsense!”

Shock takes Cassandra’s face. She stares forward, bewildered. “What?”

“You heard me! I’ve got news for you, Cassandra: Nothing happened to you! Nothing happened to your parents or their parents or theirs! This was almost two centuries ago! You didn’t lose anything! You can’t lose something you never had! Something went down between Martin Warwick and Harold Crane! That may well be true! But you didn’t even know Harold Crane! You didn’t know anyone who knew anyone who knew Harold Crane!”

Cassandra’s eyebrow twitches and her breathing grows heavy, but Eleanor does not relent. “And you’re willing to tear apart the very fabric of time and space! Oh, yeah! That’s what you’re playing with, Cassandra! You’re going full Doctor Who! If you do what you’re thinking about doing, you could destroy everything that is, was, and will ever be! For the last time, nothing happened to you! You have lost nothing!”

For a few moments, the only sound in the apartment is Cassandra’s heavy breathing and Grace’s lifeless body dropping to the floor. Tears well in her still-twitching eyes. “I…lost…” Her sentence starts slow and so soft it’s barely audible and then suddenly explodes into a wet, painful shriek. “Everything!”

The sheer torment and rage in her scream prompts Eleanor to scamper back. She stares in stunned confusion, all the aggression in her posture gone.

“I lost my home! My friends!” Water rushes down her face.

Eleanor’s eyes widen in overwhelming shock. Cassandra’s voice is piercing and painful with the occasional quiver. Spittle flies from her lips.

“I lost my- my children! My babies! I had to send them to an institution! Just so they could eat! They cried and they begged! They begged me not to leave them there! But I would not let them live in the gutter with me, slowly starving!”

As she drops to her knees, she bawls into her free hand, which shivers uncontrollably. The other still clutches the Stone as if it’s a lifeline.

Eleanor tries to say something, but a few indistinctive noises are all she could manage. Her mouth hangs open as she stares at Cassandra, completely dumbfounded.

The wizard’s bellowing slowly whittles down to a soft weep. “Harold. They- He was- I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Didn’t- didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Creeping closer, Eleanor crouches down toward her. “Cassandra. Listen to me. You’re confused. Those things didn’t happen to you. Please understand, Cassandra. I…” her words trailed off as realization strikes her. Slowly backing away, Eleanor stumbles a bit. “Cassandra…Sandra…Sandy?”

Cassandra lifts her head. Her eyes are red with tears, but they focus on her with a disturbing glint.

“Sandy Crane?”

“I told you not to say that name,” she reminds her, her voice trembling. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”