Chapter 5

Initially, he told himself that the girl was just a means to an end. A talented young reporter who could cover his company's impending product launch with enough edge and controversy to create a hype about his machine. From everything he's gathered on Clair Fisher, creating a hype comes easy to her. She would do what she needed to do for his product launch. The launch was everything.

On the small monitor screen inside the private jet, he could see a very low quality video of her walking down the road, towards his location with a tall man by her side carrying her travelled bag.

"Who's with her?" Rick asked.

"Sir, it's Jude. He was supposed to be at the radioactive research compound but I fixed him to be Clair's escort since two other guards were already stationed there." Todd responded.

"That's good Todd. Very good." He turned his attention back to the monitor. Just looking at Clair walk to the plane does something he could not explain to him. He knew he had no heart, knew he was incapable of strong emotions. Then what is this thing he felt whenever he laid eyes on her. He only needs to set eyes on her, and a thousand years of good sense went out the window. Just like that. The emotions left him feeling utterly confused.

Rick  was waiting on the private air strip at since nine forty five. He'd felt strangely nervous about the whole endeavor and proposed meeting. How was he going to keep her from finding out what he was really building? Was she closed minded enough to dismiss the strangeness of her surroundings and focus on the explanations he gave her?

He didn't think she was. Clair looked like a keen observer to him. She looks like someone who would asked lots of questions too. He was started to worry that he hadn't thought this through. He could have taken more time to plan this meeting, plan the things he'll tell her if she asked certain questions. But he didn't have the luxury of thinking about all the things he could have done because at that very moment, the same woman was getting closer to where he was. She was medium height and shapely but walking beside tall Jude, she almost appeared short. Rick found that amusing.

" Open the door", he said into the intercom, rubbing his palms together.

A few seconds later, The plane door began to unfold, and someone wheeled steps up to his toes. he stood there squinting, trying to get a better look at Clair. She was walk-jogging in the harsh, cold wind. Dressed plainly with a glint of red shining from her throat.

The red stone pendant. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw it and thought about it.

Something turned in Rick's stomach. He felt his heart beat in his ears, his fingertips. His chest was heaved and his eyes began to water, and not from the cold or wind. It was as if molten Magma was flowing through his internal organs and despite the cold winter, he felt himself beginning to sweat.  As her face came fully into view, she smiled and waved at him when she saw him.

Then he heard it, "BANG". It was the car behind them. Something had hit it, Rick looked around to see where it had come from. He saw two black armoured trucks parked in the field and on the open roof of the car, he saw what looked like a man dressed in black aiming a sniper rifle in Clair and Jude's direction.

"They're under attack." Rick said to his head of security, fear seizing him. Fear not for himself but for the woman before him. For Clair.

"We're under attack. I repeat we are under attack. All stations report outside. Everybody out now! Grab your weapons and head out. Now!" Todd spoke into his radio transmitter and then hurried to get his gun. "Sir, please remain inside." His men rushed past him outside with their arms.

Rick's men started shooting at the attackers, but their attacker came prepared and were not relenting. Rick looked back at where Jude and Clair were, he saw Jude holding his left shoulder and falling to the ground. Seeing how vulnerable Clair was in the open right there, he rushed out of the jet towards her. But he was too late. Way to late to stop the bullet that caught her right between the chest.

 He shook his head, peering through the tears to see her fall.

This cannot be happening. No!

He heard the head of security shouting, " Get Down Sir! Get Down! Sir! Get down". Todd was running towards him. A pair of body gaurds following closely in his heels. He could hear his security guards shooting back at the men that attacked. None of all that mattered to Rick at that moment. The only thing that had any importance to him was lying unconscious or possibly dead a few feets from him.

Rick shut everything else around him and raced towards the woman bleeding on the walkway. He finally got to where she lay. The man lying beside her roused. Rick shifted his attention to him.

"I...I am ve... I'm so so...rry sir. I tried, I I really tried to protect her but they were too fast f...for me. I'm sorry." Jude said with gritted teeth, holding his wounded shoulder. He coughed and the sudden movement caused more blood to flow out from his injury.

"Save your breath Jude because it looks like you're going to need it." He turned his head and looked at the woman lying stiffly directly below him. He bent to check her pulse.

Rifles exploded all around him. Some of his security team was on the ground, surrounding him.

He put his hands on her face, felt her neck for a pulse.

No pulse.

"Fuck! Get her on the plane now." By now, the shooting had stopped and the attackers had left.

"But Mr Silver, she's dead", Todd,  tried to reason with him. "I have reported the incident to the Airport's security and I am very certain they'll inform the police.  security's coming, police will follow. Let them be the one to handle her dead body Sir." His head of security looked pissed. He blamed himself for not being thorough about his security surveillance of the area. That bullet was meant for his Boss Rick Silver, that much he was sure of. Whoever shot her thought that had been him walking her to the plane. Given that Rick and Jude were roughly the same height and Size.

Rick turned to glare full on at the man crouched beside him. At that moment, he felt like giving him a hard blow to the head that will probably crack his skull or even cast an inaudible spell on him.

"You're telling me she's dead? Me? I said get her on that fucking plane now! And I don't want to have a cause to repeat myself or I promise you, you wouldn't like yourself. Now hurry up before anyone sees her."

Todd called another guard over. "Get the stretcher from the jet, quick!" The guard came back a few minutes later with one. They picked her up, put her on the stretcher, carried her and headed for the aircraft. Even though Todd obeyed and did as he was told, Rick could tell that it very well took all his reserve not to flat out refuse.

Rick looked around the place. Then he realises that somehow his men had managed to chase off their attackers. The whole environment quietened down a bit. Only the groaning of a few wounded men and the running boots of the gaurds could be heard.

He didn't have to wonder too much about those that were behind his attack, he had a very clear idea who it was. This was the second attack in the space of two weeks, not to talk of the numerous call threats and messages. It all started the moment he announced that he'll be launching a new product soon, though there has always been some friction between Rick and his colleagues in the field, it has never resulted to this much violence.

Rick's only regret was allowing Clair to be caught cross fire. He should have provided more security for her. A mere bullet proof vest could have easily prevented the damage that just happened. But there was no time for regrets, he needed to act fast.

"You over there. Come here. Come and assist this man walk to the plane." This was Rick, calling a nearby gaurds to come help the wounded Jude make it to the private jet.

Rick turned and followed after the men carrying Clair's body. He looked at her lying down on the stretcher. When he had checked for a pulse earlier, he didn't get one. He knew she was already dead, her body was getting stiffer by the second. Rick was also fully aware that the men around him also knew that the female reporter they were carrying was dead. He was pretty sure they wondered within them why they didn't just leave her corspe on the tarmac and allow the local police deal with the case.

Rick was not having any of that. Clair was dead because of him, so it would also be him that will rectify the situation. He was going to do the one thing he swore he'd never dabble in again. The one thing that landed him in the situation he was in till date.

He was going to return back to dark magic. He had to. It was the only way.

And he was going to use it to raise Clair from the dead.

******

His team guarded him as he got back on board the plane. Rick waited until everybody was inside the aircraft, both wounded and not, then he spoke to them.

"Now listen up everyone", Rick got the attention of all the people around. It was time to make them forget that Clair was shot and that she died. He didn't want people raising brows when they see a girl that is supposed to be dead, walking around alive and healthy. It would draw attention to him that he didn't need at all. He was about to perform a similar magic to the one he did with Stanley. Though he hated the dark energy swirling within him, it was the only way. Performing on this amount of people could drain him but he had no other choice. He swallowed hard pulled in to their minds by stretching out seeking tendrils of power. When all their eyes went matte, muted grey, he knew he had them. He told them what he needed them to know.

"Some shots were fired! Several people were wounded from the attack. The attackers tried to shoot at Ms Fisher but Whoever it was, missed." He paused and watched as all of them listened with rapt attention. "Ms. Fisher is going to be cared for on Arcus island as she's fainted, and is in shock. Someone tried to kill me. This was most likely an attack spearheaded by one of my colleagues or a member of a pharmaceutical company just like mine. I'm afraid this might not be the last attack just as it isn't the first, until my product has been launched into the world. Now Todd has called some of the security personnels of the airport to come check the scene. When the police show up, you have them call me immediately. No one should talk to them deeply about the situation other than what I have just said. I'm sorry for the injuries and thank you for your work today."

He released them, severing the mental link. He staggered a bit but regained himself in seconds. Some of the Men that were not injured reported back to the plane while some stayed behind to tend to the injured body guards at the airport. They took them to the clinic at the airport.

From the little surveillance monitor, Rick could see that the Airport security was splitting up, looking for the gang that attacked them or evidences that could lead to finding them.

"Get us in the air before they ground us and start asking questions. And change of plans, we are going to Arcus island." he yelled, as he ran to the dead woman splayed out on a reclined seat at the back of the cabin. "Ok, Todd, put up the partition. I need to work". Todd looked pensive and worried. He hated when Rick broke the rules and did stuff like this. Rick could very well read his mind. His thoughts were like an open book. Rick smiled inwardly.

If Todd thought he was breaking rules and disobeying protocols, Todd had no idea just how utterly Rick himself was about to break his own rules.

"Let her die man, she's not worth the risk". But she was. Rick hadn't been so sure of anything since the day his own soul left his body and he realized he was forever changed. Something about Clair Fisher gave him hope. Something inside him had recognized her, and if his powers were meant for anything, it was to unravel the mystery around this woman. He couldn't do that if she remained dead. The choice was made the moment he heard the shot. Clair could not die.

Rick knew death to be a science like any other. Clair's soul had left her body, but it wouldn't move on for days. As long as he could heal her body, he could recall it and cram it back in. She'd be sick when she finally wakes, but she'd be alive surely. He needed to ask fast and he knew it.

Rick got his oversized briefcase that he always carried around down from the overhead slab where it was and took out a pewter bowl. He crushed various herbs and resins, added vials of liquids and powders. Then he set to chanting over the mixture as he sliced open his palm, and let the blood drip into his mixture. His voice was low, raspy and harmonic, like two being spoke from one mouth. The room vibrated. It was as if a wild wind with no origin was blowing fiercely through the space. He chanted some more, speaking out strange incantations into the mixture he prepared. When he was done, he set the bowl aside. He brought out an incense from the big briefcase, put it into a metal jar with holes and burnt it. He used the smoking jar to circle Clair's corpse, waving the smoke in her direction. After Rick set the incense aside, He removed the black winter coat Clair wore then tore open her blouse.

I will have to come up with an explanation for that. A believable one.

 With shaking hands he slopped the mixture onto her chest, over her heart. As his hands passed over her red stone pendant, he felt the electric shock again. He pulled away from it. Sweat beaded his forehead. He continued with the task at hand, resolving to deal with the necklace later. He slashed his palm again and allowed the blood to drop on the mixture he already rubbed known her chest. Wiping his hands on his slacks, he rose to hold her head by the temples.

Rick closed his eyes and  reached inside himself. He reached deeper and deeper into the expanse of his consciousness until he found the spark of life which kept his wretched heart beating. He coaxed it apart. The light of life essence that animated him split off in two, and he drew a small shard out. From deep within him, past his energies, past his thoughts,  it emerged like a firefly from his chest. It hung in the air weightless and shimmering. Ever so gently, he guided the spark, like a frightened gold fish, toward the mixture coating Clair's alabaster skin directed to the slop on her chest. When it found the welcoming home of his blood upon her flesh, it melted into her, emanating a white glow and then disappearing along with every trace of the mixture. As it sunk into her skin, she took a sharp breath. Her eyes opened suddenly. It did not last for seconds because it closed almost immediately.

"It's working," He said with a smile. She moved a finger. He chuckled with relief. Though he knew magic always had its loop hole he hoped that this particular act of Necromancy was not going to go wrong.

Rick lay a blanket over her and affixed an oxygen mask to her face. Not that she needed it, but breathing trouble was a plausible excuse for his ripping at her clothing and a good disguise to convince his guards about he said earlier. He packed up his tools and called Todd through the intercom.

"You sent for me sir."

"Yes, I want you to assign one of your men to stay guard in front of this room. Ms Fisher might wake up anytime and I want her to be well-taken care of." Todd nodded in response and went to do as he was told.

Rick went back and settled in next to her, waiting for her to wake. He knew it would not be so easy for him to leave her side. What he'd just done was beyond stupid. Necromantics were what got him here in the first place. Now he'd exposed yet another soul to this strange, unpredictable magic. The same magic that had taken from him the only woman he'd ever loved. It seemed even after a thousand years he still believed dark power was forgivable when used to save a life. He hadn't saved a life though, he had dragged it kicking and screaming back from the void, and forcefully transplanted it anew  into its physical prison.

Rick's hands shook as the realization of what he'd just done began to sink in. He walked with unsteady legs and fell into a nearby chair. He bent his head into his palms and stared unseeingly at the ground.

 It had been centuries since he'd given in and tapped into the dark powers of life and death. He sat staring at the woman he'd just performed a ritual on. He brushed the strand of hair on her face to the side. Moments from the ritual swam in front of his vision, ripping open her blouse, his own blood dripping all over her chest.

And then the shattering aftermath. The shame slammed into him like a train.

Since the day he'd become immortal, the most painful day that led to his thousand years of existence, he had used only the innocent magic of healing, a few light spells when needed, and the odd bit of mind control to keep his nature secret. He'd sworn that day, the day she disappeared and his own soul had been wrenched from his body, that he would never touch the evil and seductive powers of necromancy again.

Everything changed when he saw Clair Fisher walking towards his plane in a private hanger.

He wasn't sure what it was about her but he would bet everything left of his soulless being that his foreign and strange feelings towards her had everything to do with that red stone on her neck. And he was a few steps from confirming his suspicions.

The deed was done. Now he wait.