by Harold Wall
"Hey, boss, how ya doin'? Cinnamon, huh, I don't really care for the spice myself, but if you like that sweetness, nothing beats nutmeg. Nutmeg will do ya a world of good, and it's
not limited to deserts either. Of course, nothing beats chasing down a human in the woods huh, boss?" Thierry raised his eyebrows in alarm.
"Did I say human, I meant rabbit, and I don't care for bloodshed myself." The agent gave a disarming smile. "That last mission was so simple I was amazed that the vamps simply
didn't stake themselves for cryin' out loud, that's how easy it was. What's next, mass suicides? Now, don't get me wrong, they're my kin, I understand we need to convert them or
what not. But between you and me, I don't think we need those kind of chatter boxes in Circle Daybreak. These Night Worlders from the enclaves don't know nothing about the real
world so they go on about embroidery, their yachts…Eh, who needs that? So what' sup now boss?"
Through the short chat (and Thierry knew from experience that it was a short chat) he settled himself onto a divan. A young man of considerable height, with a wiry frame and
reddish orange hair, brown bright eyes, and skin as pale the land of his namesake, Kyros Snow (of no relation to the Lady of the household) personified the summer Arctic Fox to
the last detail.
"There is a girl," Thierry began, unconsciously taking a slower rhythm than Kyros', "that fits the description of Maria Tybal."
"Her name? Cuz, you know, boss, I'm gonna kinda hafta know her name if I'm gonna go lookin' for her." It appeared that sarcasm was a prerequisite before entering Circle
Daybreak.
He sighed a very tired sigh. "Her name is Maria Tybal…" Kyros let out a bark of laughter.
"Well, boss, I don't think we need to go checking her out if she's got the right name and physical features."
"We need to know if she remembers anything, or if her mysterious rescuer tampered with her memory. She just moved to New York to complete her last years of college and since
you've been working for quite some time, this could be an opportunity for you to visit some family and old friends."
Kyros pondered it for some time, scratching his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I don't like to mix my personal life with the missions. You know how it is, if
one slips away and follows me to my ma's house and then they know how to get to me. It's not safe."
"You won't be killing anybody on this mission, Kyros."
"Hey, you don't know that for sure. I could go to Milwaukee for some ice fishing and end up killing somebody. Life's unpredictable like that." It was at times like this that made
Thierry wonder if Rashel and Quinn trained their men to be too prepared.
"Listen, all you have to do is befriend her, find out if she knows, subtly I might add, and then get out. She's new, so she'll be eager for new friends, I hope. Geez, Kyros, I thought
you'd be grateful."
"Befriend her? You're asking me to get chummy with the little imp?"
"NO arguments. Out, now." What was supposed to be a quick day at the office began to look like back to back meetings. What was it about post Final Battle that made daybreakers
so chatty?
Kyros raised his hands as a sign of surrender and slowly backed out of the office. Just when Thierry thought he was gone, his messy head of hair popped back into view. "You know
for a guy who's thousands of years old, you don't have much patience." Kyros narrowly dodged the end of an envelope opener and sprinted out the mansion. What was it about post
July 7, 2000
Clayton, California
"I feel like the kids who tied up their baby sitters and kicked them outta the house." Morgead stretched luxuriously, making Jez shift next to him. It was a tight squeeze on the lawn
chair, but it was cozy. The remnants of the Goddard barbecue still stuck to the grill. It was her uncle's idea to let Morgead try their new gas grill.
"I know. It was strange to know Quinn was watching our every move and probably making fun of us." Morgead gave a sound of agreement that sounded very much like a snore and
Jez nudged him awake.
"I wanted to see Maggie and Del's new apartment. They're settling in Washington, you know."
"Yeah, I know, I don't feel like driving up all the way up there. Maggie's okay, but Delos annoyed me sometimes. He was too head strong, and he always thought he was right. Too
damn stubborn if you ask me."
Jez's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Yeah, I'd hate to be stuck with a guy like that."
"Hardy, har, har. Claire was bugging me about a wedding date. What the hell is that? We're engaged and we need to date?"
"No genius, she meant the date of the wedding. Do you feel like getting married in a hurry?"
Taking his silence as "I want to say no, but I don't know if that will make you mad," Jez continued.
"I don't either. I like staying engaged for a long time, see how it feels. Then, when we're good and ready we'll buy me a dress, you a top hat, and take the last mile down the aisle.
Okay?"
"Got it." His blithe tone showed happiness to her decision.
There was no hurry. After all, he was a vampire who could stop aging, and Jez could become a vampire if she chose to do so, though the possibility of that was slim to none. And
both were certain to make the use of every moment they had together. Jez supposed the near end of the world had the same effect on their friends.
"I hear," he began, "that Hannah's planning to organize little reunion parties at least once a year now that so many kids have moved out. Think anybody's going to come?" Morgead
tried to visualize the mansion in permanent emptiness and shook off the depressing image.
"Probably not all of them, since everybody has their own life now and there aren't pests to take care of. And maybe it won't be empty all the time. Maybe Hannah and Thierry will
luck out and be able to have children. If they don't, I remember Hannah telling me that she would adopt if necessary. I hate the picture of them alone in that giant of a mansion."
"Hey, speaking about being alone, I think it's high time we found Claire a boyfriend." Jez's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She's always picking on us about our relationship. ' Our'
being the key word there."
"I think if Claire wants a boyfriend, she'd have one by now. She doesn't need out help, Morgead." Jez loved her fiancé to pieces, but not when he began to criticize and nit pick her
family.
"See, that's the problem. She thinks she doesn't want a boyfriend, but all she needs to do is meet the right guy, and boom! They're in love. And I have the perfect man in mind."
Still suspicious but also intrigued, Jez said, "Go on."
"Philip."
"Philip North?" Jez began to laugh. "Philip North, you want to set up Claire with Philip North. Morgead, that's crazy."
"Why? He's close by, I'm told he's cute ( but, let's face it, he doesn't hold a candle to me) reliable, and willing to serve and protect a woman he loves. The last point was illustrated
by his love of Poppy and their mother."
"You just described a puppy. How are James and Poppy, by the way?"
"Fine. Any who," he continued, "he's been hinting for some time that he's interested in her. At least, I think he's hinting…"
"He must be ten years older than her!"
"More like four or something. He only acts ten years older than her. Any way, I invited him over for next month's barbecue. Now all we have to sit back and watch the fire works."
"You're crazy," she said again, but Jez was willing to let the subject drop.
"Yeah, but that's why you love me." Jez opened her mouth to shoot out another jibe, but found herself smiling instead. He was right.
July 8, 2000
New York City, New York
"OOF!" All the heavy and, unfortunately, fragile books fel
l scattered all over the third flight of stairs. She hoped they wouldn't soak up the tracks of muddy water her feet left on her
way up.
"Oh sorry, about that," the man who bumped into her apologized. With surprising strength for a man of his lithe build, he helped her off and swiftly retrieved all the books.
"I'm new to this neighborhood. Bullfinch's Mythology? What, do you have trouble sleeping?" She opened her arms to take the books, but he continued walking up the stairs and motioned with his head to lead the way.
"No," she said shortly. "It's my major. Mythology's very interesting actually, if you get past the strange names." Normally, she wouldn't have been so brusque with a man who just
helped her, but he insulted Greek Mythology. Somebody had to defend it.
"Sorry." She spied an amused smile on his lips and found herself smiling back.
"No, I'm sorry. I mean, thanks. Thanks and sorry. I just find myself defending mythology to a lot of people."
"Well, I guess you have to delve a little deeper in the stories to get it. One look at the names like Hephestus, and I shut the book. I'm Kyros by the way, Kyros Snow. I'd offer a
hand but, they're kind of full right now."
"Maria Tybal." Since his hands were taken, she patted him on the back. "No, don't go on," she said as he was about to walk up to the fifth and final flight of stairs. "This is my floor,
the fourth. Kyros sounds familiar…" she murmured as struggled with the key and lock on an ancient looking door.
Kyros cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Oh is it?" Behind the rickety and creaking door laid a small and crowded apartment, full of quirky objects. The walls were yellow in an
attempt to bring more light in the cramped space, the furniture blue, and the lamps, and other necessities had no connection in styles at all. But somehow, in the cluttered mess she
called home, the mismatched objects worked to give the impression of a sloppy but educated child.
"Yes, oh, I'm sorry, come in. Kyros, Kyros…that means ice in Greek, doesn't it?"
"I just always assumed Kyros rhymed with gyros and that was the only Greek connection. Tasty, too. Hey, you tell me. You're the major here."
"Would you like something to drink? Yes, I'm fairly certain that Kyros means ice. Ice Snow, I must say it isn't a fitting name, you look like a very lively fellow. And with that burning
bush of hair I would have figured you were Irish." The way she looked at it made him unusually self conscious. He studied her as she searched for something in the cupboard.
Still short, she had traded in the waist long jetty tresses for a tapered and softly curled do that fell just a little lower than her shoulders. Her once glowing amber eyes had calmed
down to a bright brown behind sooty lashes. Full, lips that normally held a pout or indifferent stance now looked puckered and slightly chapped, as Maria appeared to constantly bite
them, as if holding back words. On her left wrist, he saw faint pink lines zigzagging for two or three inches. It gave him a twinge of sadness when he realized that she reminded
him of a shorter copper skinned Nissa. But then again, five months ago he saw a resemblance of Nissa in Ash Redfern. He assumed that now he was only reminded of Nissa in just
females meant that he was leaving the delusional grief.
"Now that you've shown off your knowledge, it's my turn," he joked when they settled to the tiny table in the breakfast nook. "Tybal…Tybal…means princess, right? Well, I've never
heard of a princess choosing to live in the dark tower." He gestured around them, referring to the limited space.
"Whatever works, ya know? I gotta bed, a tv, and a refrigerator. And then some extras. What more could you ask for?" The longer she talked, the more she started to sound like
him. It was faint but noticeable accent of New Jersey.
"Ya got an accent?" He almost added that he never heard one from her lips before, but that would have ruined his plan.
Maria put a hand to her lips as if she just burped. "Oh, it slips out once in a while. I don't like it much, makes me sound like a thug. It's been forever since I've been influenced by my cousins in Newark. We used to visit there, me and my family, because of my grandpa. We used to visit every summer, since I was a baby…and now I'm talking too much so I'll
just shut up…"
"So I sound like a thug? Thanks." For a moment, Maria looked perplexed, and then she laughed.
"I'm sorry, I don't seem to be myself. I mean, I just invited a total stranger into my apartment and insulted him. Do you go to NYU?"
"NYU? Oh, New York University. Nah, I've already done the college thing."
She smiled, probably wondering just how old he was.
"Ya gotta boyfriend?" If anybody did erase her memory, he probably still hung around. And Thierry did mention something about that.
"No, no boyfriend. No friends at all, actually, I just moved here too. Listen, as much as I'd like to sit here and chat, I've gotta study and…"
"Study? It's July, there's no school."
"Yeah, but I've gotta catch up with everything I've forgotten. I always manage to flush out everything I've learned in the first week of June." She stood up and looked ready to see
him to her door. "You're going to move in right?" It seemed logical, because she hadn't seen him around and why else would he be loitering in her building? "Well, then we'll see
each other another time."
"Wait," he said, too urgently. Maria looked at him as if he were crazy. "Wait," he said in a calmer tone, "I could help you. You know, help you study."
"But you said that mythology was boring." Kyros began to regret his words and her tendency to notice details.
"Yeah, for you I might make an exception." The flirtatious reply came out before he could stop it. Kyros caught himself; this was Maria. Maria Tybal of all people. Flirt with her and
you might lose a limb.
Instead of blushing, Maria gave him a look that clearly expressed derisive disbelief. But she didn't refuse, she simply said, "Go ahead and try."
Settling once again in kitchen chairs, Kyros executed his mission, ready to leave as soon as possible.
"Who is Delos?" Maria remained stonefaced momentarily before she smiled again. The act alone made Kyros surmise something life altering did in fact happen on the Damn Clan
Island.
"It's not who is Delos, it's what. Delos was the name of a sacred island where the treasury for the Delian League, Athens' alliance with other city states, excluding Sparta. The
Delian League freed Ionia from the Persians and also purged the Aegean Sea of pirates. Somebody had some god's kid there, but I forget…Zeus and…Iona. Am I right? Or somebody
and somebody. See? Literary amnesia!"
Puzzlement was written all over his face. "Uh, yes, you're right." I think. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Who is Galen?"
"Galen was a Greek physician who provided the Romans with the basis for medical science. He dissected dogs and apes and discovered that arteries carried blood, but he also
believed the liver digested food. His views were later proved wrong by Andreas Vesalius in 1543. Not exactly mythological though…"
Huh, never knew that one. "Does the name Jezebel ring any bell?"
"Um…the definition of a promiscuous, devious, and or all in all bad woman? That's not even Greek! Kyros, I thank you for your efforts to spark my knowledge in the miscellaneous,
but I do need to study so if you hurry along now." By this time she was pushing him out the door.
"Wait!" He needed more time to find out if she was bluffing. Damn, why didn't Thierry send a vampire to figure this out? "I know mythology…um, who was Cupid's mother?" The
door slammed shut an inch from his face.
Then it reopened, but only a little crack to show Maria's small face. "In Greek mythology, his name was Eros and his mother was Aphrodite, fathered by Ares…or somebody. See
yo
u around!" The door shut for a final time. With a shrug, Kyros sauntered down the hall, whistling a merry tune. He fished in his pockets for his cell phone and a smoke.
"Are you sure she doesn't remember anything?" Thierry's voice was unusually urgent, for he had expressed little interest in this particular case.
"Pretty sure. Damn, I meant yes, absolutely sure she doesn't know anything. Now question in my mind. Dumb as an ox, blind as Aradia. Oops, sorry just got used to saying that, I
know she sees now. Doesn't know a single thing…You don't believe me do you?" To Thierry, "pretty sure" and "almost certain" didn't cut it. Kyros remembered this far too late.
"We've just got wind of some vampires wanting justice for the defeat. And, ever since we've been finishing off the rest of the Night World, a strong case of…"
"Nationalism?"
"I wasn't sure if you could have nationalism without an established country. But yes, nationalism has been sweeping through the survivors of the Night World, and new leaders are
seeking to remove the main causes of their loss. Circle Daybreak, and…"
"Maria, got ya. You know, I saw a similar situation after World War I. The underdogs won the war, and then they tried to quell the Germans. Big mistake, it just made them even more eager to win and thus, World War II."
"So you're saying we have to watch out for a blood sucking Hitler?" Kyros made his way to an alley in viewing distance of Maria's building.
"Hey, when was there not a blood sucking Hitler? It was a joke, you know Hitler was a bad man, blood sucking…" Thierry made no response. "Yeah, well not everybody's a
comedian. I'm just saying ya better not try to kill their spirit as well. People willing to sacrifice everything for the mother country, or in this situation, the mother organization, are
dangerous and unpredictable. Check out the Palestinian situation."
"Kyros, the people of the Night World were already unpredictable and dangerous before the Battle. Just pay attention because you're staying on this mission. If they find out Maria
knows what she did and is living happily ever after, they'll kill her."
"They'd kill her any way boss, whether she knew or not." Kyros felt bored and tired and his voice showed it. He took a drag of his cigarette and continued. "Listen, I gotta go, boss."
