A little note

It's just as I said, there's still much more to the story than can be stuffed into one plot line. That and I promised to be as true to cannon as possible, giving our primary characters as much time to develop and 'grow' into each other as possible. Without further ado, I give you a preview of the next installment in the Chain.

Warning:

Potty mouthed-ness

Chain Link Two: Mortal Coil

Death-Proof

"Remember Chris, ya gotta take easy with these cakes and stuff. The sugar is bad for your teeth and ya know She'll give me an earful if you go back home with cavities." Leon knew his fretting was falling on deaf ears, what with the way his brother's wide blue eyes devoured the contents of the bakery bag. A smile tugged his lips in spite of the stern words and he reached out to ruffle the young boy's corn silk hair, only a few shades lighter than his own. There was no way he could put up a hard face to that wide happy smile, even if it meant having a long chat with his aunt later.

Just three days ago his aunt called to tell him about the change in plans. Apparently her household had been struck with a bad case of the flu and it was catching; so far Chris was the only other healthy one in the house but she was up to her neck with taking care of the others. Although they'd originally scheduled his trip for two weeks later, could Leon take care of his brother any way? Talk about timing. The detective was still neck deep with issues at work, concerning the messy conclusion of a long investigation his department had been handling over a serial killer with a rather unique modus operandi. Acting on a hot tip, Leon had walked into a murder scene, starring the serial killer and his victim. Both died in much the same fashion--gruesomely and with lots of trauma. Unfortunately, the 'murder weapon' was still at large.

So while the department internal affairs was clearing that up, he was supposed to keep a low profile. At least it meant he had time on his hands to clean up the apartment a bit and get a few things ready. He'd spent a whole day prowling grocery stores, list in hand because apparently his aunt was very strict about the kinds of things Chris was allowed to eat. Well screw that, Leon thought, all those foods involved a lot of cooking and he could already see what dangerous roads that would lead. It was safer for everyone if he just kept the pizza shop's number on the fridge…sure he'll get healthy stuff like fruits and veggies into the mix, maybe try one of vegetarian pizzas while they were at it.

Big brother, I don't even know which one to start with…strawberry crème pie or the cheesecake…

The detective chuckled. "How about you make that decision when we get home? It's not nice to eat in the streets ya know?" Good thing he was a fast reader and had at least brushed up on his sign language.

Chris hastily nodded, a soft flush of chagrin stealing over his fair features. His fingers rapidly moved in the air.

Sorry.

To say he stood in awe of his older brother was an understatement; he literally worshiped the ground beneath the detective's feet. Chris had always wished to live with his big brother but for one reason or another, this dream remained just that—a dream, a subject that was occasionally touched upon by the grownups but always quickly shelved away. He had to be content with the rare snatches of time they spent together now and then, hoping that perhaps when he was a little older his aunt would finally allow him to stay in San Francisco. He knew, from the way she spoke about him and her expressions whenever Leon called, that she didn't think much of his ability to take care of a child. He had a dangerous job with the police and was still an 'unrepentant bachelor.'

Of course there was the part that they never let Chris forget; the fact that Leon himself was the one who gave him up to their aunt. His cousin Sam never tired of of drumming it into his ears: When your mom died giving birth to you, Leon dumped you on our doorstep and never looked back. He always suffered a mix of guilt and hurt whenever anyone reminded him about this, because of the little voice whispering darkly in the back of his mind. But he couldn't tell this to anyone, not to his family and least of all his big brother.

Chris was determined to keep these things quiet and completely revel in happy moments like this, keeping them in his safe place of precious memories. He shyly reached forward and slipped his small hand into Leon's; it was like wearing a warm, calloused baseball mitt. Forgetting was the hard part, especially when Chris was alone, but for now he was not going to think about that. The blonde man looked down to their joined hands and smiled, his blue eyes turning the color of summer' sky.

Walking down the street hand in hand, both in white tee shirts and rugged jeans, it was difficult for anyone looking at them to think them anything other than father and son.

They got to the intersection and joined the already gathered masses waiting for the cars to stop passing and the light to turn. Leon glanced across to the other side and recognized among the people standing by, a certain cheongsam clad Chinaman.

Count D.

He could never figure out why the other man insisted on being addressed by some phony title, particularly since he was sure one had to be European to be called Count. Count D owned a pet shop in the heart of Chinatown, one with a controversial history with his department, and was once a major suspect in the particular case they were still dealing with. Leon had been all poised to nab him when evidence and surveillance removed him from the murders, not that it eased his gut feeling about the man. D might not be involved with the latest string of deaths but there were too many fishy circumstances surrounding him and his pet shop. The detective had pretty much forgotten about him, what with the flurry of issues he was dealing with, but just looking at that ever present smirk brought all his subsided feelings about the man to the forefront of his mind.

Ironically enough, the blonde had sought 'expert advice' from the very same Count with the fact that their serial killer had been using animals to attack his victims. He had to endure the pet shop owner's countless thinly veiled jabs at his person and profession before finally agreeing to help. He and...and… Leon shook away the fuzziness in his head, tightening his hold on his brother's hand as the light turned green. With any luck, they would pass by each other just like that. There will be other opportunities to pursue the subject of Count D but not today. He didn't feel like trading mental punches this evening, not with Chris in tow.

The Chinaman looked up and their eyes met. No such luck. Leon held his brother back as the latter absently began stepping toward the crossing. Chris looked up and blinked askance at the detective, whose eyes were still fixed ahead. He turned across to see what he was looking at and saw the approaching figure, eyes widening in awe.

*

Count D's eyebrows rose when he saw the American across the street. Of all the days to run out of cake. He supposed the brief moment of respite was over after all, steeling himself for whatever the detective would choose to throw his way this time. Even though they'd parted ways in a detente of sorts, human nature was notoriously capricious and forgetful.

He joined the retinue of people crossing the street, keeping the usual aloof smile on his face. It would be rude not to at least acknowledge his nemesis—that and he wanted to test how the human's memory would recover from tampering. The crowd in front of the Count parted as he reached the middle of the intersection, revealing the small figure standing next to the detective. His eyebrows shut up even further because the young boy was an almost perfect replica of the blonde. The only difference where the former had stared at him with eyes hardened by cynicism, only wonder and innocence reflected in the child's.

Count D knew it shouldn't come as such a surprise; the detective was old enough to have a child or two of his own. Human males often prided themselves on their early knowledge of the ways of the world and this particular one didn't look as if he'd ever practiced a moment of forbearance in his life. No, the Kami reconsidered, the real surprise would be the fact that there is only one and not a retinue of little detectives milling about the place.

"Good evening detective, what a surprise to see you here and so far from my shop. Just when I was getting used to not having to look over my shoulder, you kindly remind me otherwise," he began brightly once they stood face to face with each other, glancing down at the young boy without waiting for his father's reply. "Is this your son? What a charming young man, a spitting image of yourself if I might add." The child was obviously an introverted type; hiding behind his father's leg with his face half buried in the latter's pants.

"Hey Count D and no, I'm not shadowing you. Don't you think I've got better things to do with my time than to be tailing your ass- erm tailing you all over the place?'

The Chinaman smirked at the quick correction, done for the sake of the child, no doubt. "Well I would hope you are not dragging your son into your murky world of police business just yet. He will have years ahead of him to step into your shoes." The boy was still holding on to his father's pants but his face was no longer hidden from view. Wide blue eyes held the Count's for an instant and within them he read awe, as well as recognition. A small frown hovered on his brow but the detective had begun speaking.

"I don't have any kids!"

He looked back up to the outraged eyes and inclined his head apologetically. "Forgive me for coming to such quick conclusions but it is an easy mistake to make. You two share an uncanny resemblance." Not father and son...perhaps children of the same parents then?

The human shrugged vaguely, eyes moving away to stare at nothing in particular. "Yeah I get that a lot…come on Chris, stop hiding behind me." He reached and successfully pulled the boy forward. "This is Count D; Count D if he ever goes missing, you know who I'm coming after."

Count D had the good grace to look only mildly affronted by this charge. "Detective I have told you time and time again that I do not trade in humans, only love dreams and hope." He turned to the boy and held out a hand in the proper Western fashion. "Hello Chris, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The boy seemed to hesitate for a moment before shyly stepping forward and putting his small fingers in the Kami's hand. "N-Nice to meet you Count D"

"Come on Chris, he's just said hello"

The boy merely hung his head, the sheet of fair hair shielding his face from view.

"He's just being too shy to sign properly," the blonde murmured somewhat apologetically.

"Oh." The Count straightened, his frown becoming more pronounced. He was certain he'd just heard Chris's soft tenor murmur a reply and risked another glance at the boy, who was now staring at his cheongsam with rapt attention.

The detective shifted his weight from foot to foot, a sure sign of agitation. "Yeah well we've got to go."

"Of course, and I must hurry to the bakery before it is closed. I see you have just returned from there as well," the pet shop owner gestured to the bag in Chris's hands, giving him another kind smile. It should be so easy to visit his ire at the detective upon the child but he couldn't, not in the face of such unsoiled innocence. "Goodbye Chris, feel free to visit my pet shop at any time. Perhaps we can find a nice pet for you."

"Oh hell no," came the vehement reply from Leon and he shook his head with a sigh.

"Whatever you say detective."

The Count bowed slightly to the pair and walked away, feeling both the sting of ice and the tickle of fire from their encounter. There was much to ponder. He found himself looking over his shoulder, just as the young boy walking ahead did the same.

Their eyes met and held for a long moment.

**

It was nighttime and the Kami was making the last few entries into the pet shop's ancient tome of records. The room was largely deserted, the comfortable quiet broken only by the faint scratch of fountain quill over rice paper. The wind chimes outside tinkled and he looked up with a frown because surely it was too late for anyone to be thinking of patronizing the shop. He had just gotten over the humans' suspicions of his shop and here was yet another person about to give them confirmation of 'late night solicitation' in his premises. The shop keeper could already picture the look on a certain detective's face, brandishing a glossy photograph in his face.

"So what you got to say about it this time, eh D?"

He shuddered and shook his head in resignation as the door swung open, walking over to his usual welcoming position. Perhaps whoever it was just lost his or her way to the latest rave in American-Chinese* cuisine. A black booted foot crossed the threshold and he bowed low.

"Welcome to my pet shop; we sell love dreams and hope. How may I be of service to you?"

Count D looked up as the pair slowly walked in, hand in hand. They looked around the shop and made a sound of assent.

"I'm guessing you're Count D?"

He made a sound of assent to the one who had just spoken. "Indeed I am, and I presume you are here on recommendation from one of my customers?"

"Yeah, an old acquaintance," the other lightly replied, as they took a step closer to the light in tandem. One was dressed from head to toe in black; black silk shirt over dress pants and gleaming leather boots. A stylish looking suit jacket hung from his fingers, thrown casually over one shoulder, while the other hand loosened the silver clasp on his black tie. It was all a rather conservative picture, save for the glint of silver on his ears, neck, fingers and lips when he moved or spoke. Cool black eyes regarded the Count with an expression of wry amusement, as though he was in early on the irony of life and still contemplated sharing it with the rest of the world. Perhaps it was because of all the surrounding black, but his alabaster white skin stood out very sharply in the light, gleaming with an almost ethereal luster.

"I want get a pet for this one here."

By this one here, the Kami surmised that he meant the other man, who was taking in every feature in the shop with childlike attention. His appearance couldn't have been more starkly opposite to his partner, the hot pink top, ripped jeans and chain link belt screaming out loud where the latter wanted to blend into the background. He wore a large and ornate looking collar over his neck, complete with dangling silver bone, and ankle length silver boots. His scarlet streaked black hair was mussed and scattered every which direction over his face, as though the handiwork of childish and impatient fingers. Like the other man, his pale skin had that pearlescent sheen to it. His partner's finger poked his cheek and he nodded with a bright smile.

"Mmmm-hmmm, something to keep my mind occupied," he added, skipping away to look at the Count's collections of bird stands. "We're new to these parts and Kona's been very busy, so he hasn't had as much time for me as he should."

The other man rolled his eyes and walked closer to hug him from behind. "Don't be like that Zai; it takes time and attention to run a club. You know these things take time to sort out. Once we open and everything settles down, I'm all yours again."

Count D watched with increasing bemusement as they carried on, clearing his throat discreetly to regain their attentions. "I see, and exactly what kind of pet do you have in mind?"

Kona shrugged, tugging on his lover's hand to come away. "I don't know, just something that will keep his attention from wandering."

"Ha ha, he really doesn't like me being bored," Zai clarified, turning toward the stacked aquariums. "Ooh pretty fish."

"No fish, remember what happened the last time I bought fish for you?"

He turned away from the glass cases, looking to the pet shop owner with an appealing pout. "How was I supposed to know beta fish shouldn't be put together in the same tank?" The innocent expression on his face disappeared and was replaced by a sly smile. "But it was fun for a while, watching them go at each other."

The Kami did not like the relish in Zai's voice or the unsettling gleam of hunger in his eyes and broke eye contact, turning to who it seemed was the sane one of the pair. "No fish then."

Kona shook his head, reaching a beckoning hand to his wandering partner. "No fish, cats or dogs...no birds of any kind."

That didn't leave many other options. "We do carry hamsters and ferrets as well, if you would be interested in a small furry animal."

"Ferrets and hamsters, don't insult me Count D," He retorted with a chuckle, languidly gesturing around him. "Our old acquaintance told us that apart from these, you also carry some more exotic animals."

The air in the room stilled as Count D stared down the other man with raised eyebrows, a bland smile forming on his face. "Exotic animals…"

Zai's laugh rose in the air like the low shivery thrum of a violin, his boots cracking in the air as he circled the pet shop and came to a stop at the other side, so the shop keeper was standing between him and Kona. "Yes, exotic animals, hopefully something less boring than a hamster. The idea is to keep my mind and my hands busy, and I don't see a little furry accomplishing that."

"Who was it again that recommended me to you?"

They shared a meaningful look over his head, and Kona shrugged. "Sorry, we should have said our late, old acquaintance."

There was something predatory about the way the two of them walked around the Kami, forcing him to have to turn this way and that from one to the other. So who was the intended prey, him? The thought filled him with equal parts irritation and amusement. Why not? If this was the game they wanted to play…

Count D came to a decision and turned to his would be customers, his lips spread into the semblance of a warm smile, eyes gleaming with dark light. "In that case, it seems you come well informed." He moved from his solitary position and gestured to the interior of the shop. "Will both of you take responsibility for this pet?"

Kona waved an airy finger, brushing the question off, and the other two disappeared into the shop. They returned some minutes later, the pet shop keeper in the lead, his partner cradling something covered with a sleek black veil.

"He found me a pet, Kona its perfect!"

Count D inclined his head slightly. "I was able to furnish him with exactly what he deserves."

Zai nodded vigorously, adjusting the folds of the veil. "Mmmm-hmm and he made me sign a contract. There's no way I'm letting this one die on me like the others." His voice was giddy with excitement and he practically bounced from foot to foot but Kona wasn't so enthusiastic about the find.

"Contract, what sort of contract are we talking about? Maybe I should have gone in with you after all."

The Kami hastily raised a placating hand, his patronizing smile in place. "Oh it is nothing to worry about, just a few guidelines that he must adhere to with the handling of his pet. An exotic animal must come with specific needs and requirements, do you not agree? As long as these needs are met, there is no cause for concern. All we did was put it on paper that there is a clear understanding of these requirements and he signed the dotted line." He handed over a sheet of paper. "Even those purchasing our more ordinary pets are required to sign this contract."

Kona glanced at the letterhead and then over to his happy lover, and a wry smile formed on his face. "Paper and ink…you should have made him sign it in blood."

A puzzled frown hovered over Count D's brow as he too glanced at Zai before looking more critically at the other man. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh you'll find out soon enough," was all he got for reply, those cool black eyes continuing to laugh at the situation and his ignorance. "How much is this exotic pet going to cost me?"

"How much is the value of a rare creature?" The Kami lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. "I believe it is a relative matter of opinion. Price is not the object; my customer's happiness is more a important factor in this agreement. I believe that this is a worthy investment you will come to agree with me eventually."

The other man nodded slowly, his calm eyes sharpening as he pondered the words. "I understand how you feel about this." He reached into the suit's inner pocket and withdrew a leather bound checkbook and pen. "But we're new to these parts and it's important to make a good impression." He scribbled into a single check and ripped it out, sliding it in front of the shop keeper. "Let's not call this payment for this then, but a stepping stone for future transactions between us. I'm sure you won't have a problem with that."

Count D spared the slip of paper the barest glance and slightly inclined his head. " Your generosity is most encouraging."

Kona unfurled his suit, sliding one arm into a sleeve, and then the other. "Come on Zai, I've still got a few more things to look over at the site. You know I hate being late." He tightened the tie, shaking his head. "Some people have no concept of punctuality."

"I heard that," the other man retorted as he came abreast of the other two.

Kona rolled his eyes, extending his left hand to Zai, who promptly linked their fingers with his right. "Thanks again Count, you've done us both a favor tonight." His lover nodded happily, jiggling the veiled covered object in his left arm.

"You've done him a really big favor. Actually, you should come to the opening of our club. Right, Kona?"

"I am afraid that the club scene is not my cup of tea," the Kami hastily demurred.

Zai broke their linked hands, reaching into his back pocket for a small black card, which he extended to the shop keeper. It was velvet lined and written on with silver calligraphy.

"Our club is a different cup of tea than any you've ever tasted. We can guarantee that," Kona laughed and stepped closer to the shop keeper, a soft strain of persuasion warming his voice. "You're a beautiful person, and beautiful people are the reason Club Dante came to be in the first place. So we absolutely insist on your presence."

Count D blinked, momentarily startled by the admission. He knew that people were always aware of his superior physical features but few ever openly voiced this, perferring to their admiration, and the occasional inappropriate thoughts, to themselves. "Thank you for the compliment but—"

"—Kona does not do compliments," Zai cut in, shaking his head. "He's simply telling the truth. We noticed this when we first walked in and that's why you must be at the opening."

There was something strange about it all, and not just their words, so the Kami merely gave a vague shrug. "Thank you for the invitation. I will think about it."

The pair nodded and exited the shop, hand in hand, just the way they came.

"Did you have to give them that one?"

Count D turned slightly to the kitsune waiting by the beaded curtains. "It was inevitable. As fate would have it, what he wanted is exactly what he deserves."

***

It was cold, very cold, and still and silent. A smell hung heavy in the air, harsh and nauseating, perfecting the aura of gloom in this cold and silent place. It was not an inviting place but one that hastened the living away for many reasons, the most important being that it was the SCD's underground morgue.

A finger twitched ever so slightly. Hardly abnormal, cadavers were known from time to time to exhibit muscular spasms, except that it was soon followed by a more vigorous wiggle. And then another, and then the clenching of a hand. Said hand jerked wildly, slapping against a smooth metal surface, and the awakened neurons sent a clear message of pain to the brain, jolting it out of stupor. Eyes snapped open in the darkness, blinking, searching. A leg thumped here and there but the space was narrow and movement, limited. There was a harder, more urgent thump and then another, hitting more forcefully to the supposed weakness in the surface until it suddenly gave away.

Martin Delaney slipped off the folded gurney and onto the hard floor, the plain white sheets somehow hanging on and covering his nakedness. He looked around the spacious room, wondering where, why and how? He got to his feet, wondering why his skin felt so stiff and strange; a searching hand felt the rough stitches forming a misshapen Y over his torso. He didn't have any more time to ponder on this before the hunger came. It was sharp and fast, nearly bowling him over in urgency. With the hunger came dawning understanding.

They'd said something like this would happen but he didn't expect it to be so soon. What had happened—how had it even happened?

He knew these were important questions but a topic even more vital pushed all others from his mind—the hunger. Frozen jaws worked themselves loose and he licked his cracked lips. Need…he needed…Blood. Warm, living, gushing with every pounding heartbeat, emptying and filling at the same time. He moaned and began drawing in a breath but quickly stopped. It was pushing out the stitches around his chest.

Blood.

Need.

He took his first step, blindly seeking out like a new born vole for its mother's teat. Where? Where?

****

Martin Delaney looked at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced. What a mess! This was important because he knew he didn't like messes. He didn't know why though, but for some reason that didn't matter. Blood sluiced down his fingers along with the warm water he raised to clean his face. Clothes…he would have to change at…home. Something appropriate for the…the…

Terror

He jerked upright and looked around, flared nostrils scenting the air. Terror, panic…pain and pleasure, it was a jumbled mix of emotions, chaos his mind couldn't order fast enough.

"I'm late."

This was even more important than everything else. Martin Delaney tore the door off its hinges in his haste. He was late, so very late.

*****

Leon wiped the last plate in the sink dry before setting it back into the cupboard with an incredulous smile on his face. The plates were brand new, and so were the shiny cutlery pieces standing in an ornamental jar on the counter. Table manners used to be a foreign concept in this apartment, along with bed time and separate laundry loads. He gazed fondly at the small figure parked on the couch, currently entrapped by the 'anime' show on a TV channel he only a few days ago knew he'd been paying for with his cable subscription.

Why won't they call?

Leon trained his gaze on his cell phone, willing the device to come to life and deliver a much needed dose of normality to his system. Strangely enough, it worked. He practically dove for the machine, turning it on as though it was a life line. "Leon here."

"Orcot, get to HQ pronto; we're recalling every single detective, including those on leave."

It was assistant director Paulsen. He frowned slightly, wondering what could be important enough to cause this break in protocol. "What's going on?"

"It's director Jillian."

The detective could feel the tension laced into the terse words crackle against his skin. He forced out a chuckle, putting the worst at bay. "What, she suddenly decided to retire?"

"There was an incident in the building. She's in the ICU, Orcot. "

The line went dead but Leon didn't notice. So profound was his shock.

The dead tell no tales and the living make no promises.

---------

*Internal joke there...lol

But seriously, that's all she wrote on this chain link.

See you on the flip side and the Mortal Coil