Post by Christian Monroe on Mar 22, 2010 19:46:33 GMT -5
With Clara gone, and no missions taking place, the house was quiet and dark. Most of the others had long since retired for the night, off to their beds to dream of a blessed, peaceful normalcy that escaped their waking lives. One among them was not so idle.
Christian moved through the halls with the stealth of a natural-born predator, calling on every ounce of training he'd ever recieved from his hated creators. Dressed head to toe in black, his long hair pulled back sharply from his face, his heavy combat boots made not a sound as they carefully manuevered him through the house.
He eased himself down the stairwell that would lead to the basement, where his goal was being kept. There would be one guard watching her, though hopefully lulled into laziness and a false sense of security in this late hour, with their leader far away and unable to take him to task for it. A sudden noise ahead caused Christian to freeze inside a long shadow, becoming like a living statue in an instant. Here he remained, his every sense stretching as far as it could in order to determine the cause. A faint flash of light glinted off his green-gold eyes, making them almost luminant in the semi-darkness just like the great cat he resembled.
After a few tense moments, Christian pinpointed the noise as being the sound of one of the Mages upstairs. Amanda from the sound and weight of the footsteps, probably going to the bathroom. Confident that she wouldn't be able to hear or sense his presence, Christian continued forward toward his destination. The door at the end of the stairwell was unlocked and well greased. The first few inches were opened painstakingly slow, so even if the guard inside was facing the doorway they'd have a tough time noticing unless they were specifically looking for the movement. Christian shifted on the other side, gaze sweeping the interior, and filled with satisfaction when he saw Max slumped in a chair off to the side, sound asleep.
Bella herself was curled up on her cot, also sleeping fitfully. Christian pushed the door open enough for him to fit through, and then moved toward the other Mage with the same deadly silence. Max never heard him coming. As soon as he was within reach the other teen went from eerily controled to lightening fast. One clawed fist lashed out, grabbing Max around the throat in such a way as to paralyze the vocal cords. So even though the other Mage startled awake at the attack, he couldn't do much more than gape silently, eyes wide, seconds before Christian's other fist struck in a powerful, near surgical maneuver to his temple. Instantly unconscious, Max slithered to the floor with a boneless thump.
"Christian?"
The furred Mage turned to Bella at that whisper-soft query. He motioned sharpy for her to be silent before bending down and making quick work of tying Max's arms and feet behind him, just in case he woke up before they were away. Then he stepped toward the cell, and the door--sensing his Mage blood--swung open easily. Isabella stared up at him with wide brown eyes, caught somewhere between nervous confusion and perhaps the beginnings of fragile hope.
"Christian, what are you--,"
"Getting you out of here," he responded, the mono-toned sharpness of his tone belied by the gentleness in which he used to carefully take a hold of one of her tiny wrists in his much larger paw.
"What about Clara?" she questioned, even though she gave no resistance as he carefully tugged her out of the cell and toward the doorway.
"Whatever Clara has become," he announced bitterly, tone so soft it was barely able to be heard as he led the way up the stairs, "it's not in residence at the moment. This is the best and probably only chance I'll have to get you out. Now try and be as quiet as possible," he admonished, glancing over his shoulder. Though wide-eyed, she managed a firm nod, and didn't ask him anything else even though he could see the many questions staring back at him.
Christian led the way out of the house, his entire body taut with tension and on high alert. The night was moonless, quiet and still and they made barely a whisper of sound as they started crossing the yard toward the hanger near-by, where their collection of vehicles were kept. They had nearly made it, and he'd nearly relaxed his guard, when he saw a sudden glint of metal to the left. His superhuman reflexes were the only thing that saved her.
Christian used the hold he had on Bella's wrists to yank her sharply to the side, leaping sideways and twisting midair. A sharp, fiery agony in what felt like his hip told him he'd managed to block the bullet that had been meant for Isabella's gut. Without even a second of hesitation for surprise or even acknowledgement of pain, Christian was pouncing forward with an eerily enraged snarl toward their attackers, claws fully extended.
Though Nathaniel was certainly enraged enough, his fighting skills and shapeshifting magic were no match for Christian's Mamba training. In mere moments he had the other Mage disarmed and immobilized. Christian hesitated only a moment, taking in the raw fury and hatred in the other male's pink-colored eyes before a sharp blow had him unconscious as well.
Behind him, lights were flickering on and voices could be heard, as the gunshot had alerted them all to trouble. Christian turned and caught Isabella's hand once more before dragging her into a full run, stealth having fallen by the wayside in deference to speed.
"Christian, you're hurt!" Bella tried to point out, but the lion-like teen shook it off.
"There's a skiff in the hanger we can use," he pronounced, nothing in his tone or demeanor letting on to the agony in his side. "If we can get to it and get off the ground before the others catch up, we're free and clear."
They had just made it to the hanger doors when the shouts reached him.
"It's Christian!" someone, he thought it might be Stefan, yelled.
"He's got the Martinez girl!" Rascal followed up directly afterward. "Quick, after them!"
Christian ducked just in time to miss a fiery projectile that had been hurtled at them by one of the other Mages. Isabella let out a startled scream, which was cut somewhat short by him yanking her into the hanger door behind him.
Though his heart was thundering relentlessly in his chest, his expression remained flat and his every movement controlled and calm as he led her to the skiff and punched in the code to open the access hatch. They managed to get inside and Christian hopped into the pilot's chair before the first of the other Mages began pouring into the hanger.
His Mamba training extended not only to combat but aslo how to pilot just about anything that could move, in preparation for any situation he might be faced with. Thus, Christian began executing take off proceedure quickly and flawlessly. He managed to raise the shields only seconds before Rascal let fly with one of his sonic blasts--which would have no-doubt shredded the wings.
The engines burst to life, and the others were forced to dive for cover or risk being roasted. Isabella fell into the other seat and managed to buckle herself in moments before the small shuttle blasted out of the hanger, taking half the flimsy building with it.
Christian didn't start to relax until the atmosphere of earth faded into the inky black of space. He quickly imputted a course into the system's navigation computer, switched to autopilot, then programmed a simple--but clear and effective--signal into the communication system on a secured channel that hopefully only the Plunder's Heart would be accessing.
Then he turned to his passenger, who was eyeing him silently, expression guarded. Probably because she had utterly no idea what to expect. Well, that was good, he supposed. Because that made two of them.
"I've put the skiff on autopilot," he began, tone somewhat businesslike. "And I've sent out a signal that should alert Captain Josetta Hart of our whereabouts. Hopefully she'll take the bait, if just to figure out what the hell I'm up to. Hopefully it won't take them long. Do you know how to fly a ship?"
Still looking out of sorts, Isabella's brow furrowed. "Uh . . . yes, I suppose. Why?"
Christian sighed. "Because I'm about twenty seconds away from passing out due to blood loss. This way you'll be able to manuever us around any major obstacles in the meantime."
Her eyes went wide. "You're what?!"
Unfortunately he hadn't been exaggerating. Seconds later his eyes rolled back and the large, furred teen slumped forward, completely unconscious.
Christian moved through the halls with the stealth of a natural-born predator, calling on every ounce of training he'd ever recieved from his hated creators. Dressed head to toe in black, his long hair pulled back sharply from his face, his heavy combat boots made not a sound as they carefully manuevered him through the house.
He eased himself down the stairwell that would lead to the basement, where his goal was being kept. There would be one guard watching her, though hopefully lulled into laziness and a false sense of security in this late hour, with their leader far away and unable to take him to task for it. A sudden noise ahead caused Christian to freeze inside a long shadow, becoming like a living statue in an instant. Here he remained, his every sense stretching as far as it could in order to determine the cause. A faint flash of light glinted off his green-gold eyes, making them almost luminant in the semi-darkness just like the great cat he resembled.
After a few tense moments, Christian pinpointed the noise as being the sound of one of the Mages upstairs. Amanda from the sound and weight of the footsteps, probably going to the bathroom. Confident that she wouldn't be able to hear or sense his presence, Christian continued forward toward his destination. The door at the end of the stairwell was unlocked and well greased. The first few inches were opened painstakingly slow, so even if the guard inside was facing the doorway they'd have a tough time noticing unless they were specifically looking for the movement. Christian shifted on the other side, gaze sweeping the interior, and filled with satisfaction when he saw Max slumped in a chair off to the side, sound asleep.
Bella herself was curled up on her cot, also sleeping fitfully. Christian pushed the door open enough for him to fit through, and then moved toward the other Mage with the same deadly silence. Max never heard him coming. As soon as he was within reach the other teen went from eerily controled to lightening fast. One clawed fist lashed out, grabbing Max around the throat in such a way as to paralyze the vocal cords. So even though the other Mage startled awake at the attack, he couldn't do much more than gape silently, eyes wide, seconds before Christian's other fist struck in a powerful, near surgical maneuver to his temple. Instantly unconscious, Max slithered to the floor with a boneless thump.
"Christian?"
The furred Mage turned to Bella at that whisper-soft query. He motioned sharpy for her to be silent before bending down and making quick work of tying Max's arms and feet behind him, just in case he woke up before they were away. Then he stepped toward the cell, and the door--sensing his Mage blood--swung open easily. Isabella stared up at him with wide brown eyes, caught somewhere between nervous confusion and perhaps the beginnings of fragile hope.
"Christian, what are you--,"
"Getting you out of here," he responded, the mono-toned sharpness of his tone belied by the gentleness in which he used to carefully take a hold of one of her tiny wrists in his much larger paw.
"What about Clara?" she questioned, even though she gave no resistance as he carefully tugged her out of the cell and toward the doorway.
"Whatever Clara has become," he announced bitterly, tone so soft it was barely able to be heard as he led the way up the stairs, "it's not in residence at the moment. This is the best and probably only chance I'll have to get you out. Now try and be as quiet as possible," he admonished, glancing over his shoulder. Though wide-eyed, she managed a firm nod, and didn't ask him anything else even though he could see the many questions staring back at him.
Christian led the way out of the house, his entire body taut with tension and on high alert. The night was moonless, quiet and still and they made barely a whisper of sound as they started crossing the yard toward the hanger near-by, where their collection of vehicles were kept. They had nearly made it, and he'd nearly relaxed his guard, when he saw a sudden glint of metal to the left. His superhuman reflexes were the only thing that saved her.
Christian used the hold he had on Bella's wrists to yank her sharply to the side, leaping sideways and twisting midair. A sharp, fiery agony in what felt like his hip told him he'd managed to block the bullet that had been meant for Isabella's gut. Without even a second of hesitation for surprise or even acknowledgement of pain, Christian was pouncing forward with an eerily enraged snarl toward their attackers, claws fully extended.
Though Nathaniel was certainly enraged enough, his fighting skills and shapeshifting magic were no match for Christian's Mamba training. In mere moments he had the other Mage disarmed and immobilized. Christian hesitated only a moment, taking in the raw fury and hatred in the other male's pink-colored eyes before a sharp blow had him unconscious as well.
Behind him, lights were flickering on and voices could be heard, as the gunshot had alerted them all to trouble. Christian turned and caught Isabella's hand once more before dragging her into a full run, stealth having fallen by the wayside in deference to speed.
"Christian, you're hurt!" Bella tried to point out, but the lion-like teen shook it off.
"There's a skiff in the hanger we can use," he pronounced, nothing in his tone or demeanor letting on to the agony in his side. "If we can get to it and get off the ground before the others catch up, we're free and clear."
They had just made it to the hanger doors when the shouts reached him.
"It's Christian!" someone, he thought it might be Stefan, yelled.
"He's got the Martinez girl!" Rascal followed up directly afterward. "Quick, after them!"
Christian ducked just in time to miss a fiery projectile that had been hurtled at them by one of the other Mages. Isabella let out a startled scream, which was cut somewhat short by him yanking her into the hanger door behind him.
Though his heart was thundering relentlessly in his chest, his expression remained flat and his every movement controlled and calm as he led her to the skiff and punched in the code to open the access hatch. They managed to get inside and Christian hopped into the pilot's chair before the first of the other Mages began pouring into the hanger.
His Mamba training extended not only to combat but aslo how to pilot just about anything that could move, in preparation for any situation he might be faced with. Thus, Christian began executing take off proceedure quickly and flawlessly. He managed to raise the shields only seconds before Rascal let fly with one of his sonic blasts--which would have no-doubt shredded the wings.
The engines burst to life, and the others were forced to dive for cover or risk being roasted. Isabella fell into the other seat and managed to buckle herself in moments before the small shuttle blasted out of the hanger, taking half the flimsy building with it.
Christian didn't start to relax until the atmosphere of earth faded into the inky black of space. He quickly imputted a course into the system's navigation computer, switched to autopilot, then programmed a simple--but clear and effective--signal into the communication system on a secured channel that hopefully only the Plunder's Heart would be accessing.
Then he turned to his passenger, who was eyeing him silently, expression guarded. Probably because she had utterly no idea what to expect. Well, that was good, he supposed. Because that made two of them.
"I've put the skiff on autopilot," he began, tone somewhat businesslike. "And I've sent out a signal that should alert Captain Josetta Hart of our whereabouts. Hopefully she'll take the bait, if just to figure out what the hell I'm up to. Hopefully it won't take them long. Do you know how to fly a ship?"
Still looking out of sorts, Isabella's brow furrowed. "Uh . . . yes, I suppose. Why?"
Christian sighed. "Because I'm about twenty seconds away from passing out due to blood loss. This way you'll be able to manuever us around any major obstacles in the meantime."
Her eyes went wide. "You're what?!"
Unfortunately he hadn't been exaggerating. Seconds later his eyes rolled back and the large, furred teen slumped forward, completely unconscious.