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21 February 2008 @ 03:51 pm
She's sweet and innocent
too beautiful to leave alone
Draw you near to her
and crush you like she's made of stone
It's a war that we're heading for
and it starts here tonight
Wipe you clean like a memory
Put up a fight

“Anson!” Alva called out as the door of the shop jingled merrily to announce his arrival by way of the windchimes tied to the knob. “Where the bugger are you, old man? I’ve a story for you about this mirror that’s going to earn me an opportunity to sample some of that lovely cognac you’ve got put away!”

There was no answer from the depths of the dim, cluttered little antique store, but Alva thought little of it. Anson Miller was a little hard of hearing, but still very spry for a man nearly eighty eight years old. He was one of Alva’s oldest friends, and not just chronologically. He’d been a steady, steadfastly reliable source of information since Alva’s departure from Harvard, and specialized in collecting articles of power.

Alva began to weave his way through the stacks of chairs, tables, and other assorted items of value, power, and incidental beauty. Along the way, he recognized several trinkets that were, in fact, very powerful talismans left hiding in plain sight.

“Anson!” he hollered again, raising his voice for the other man’s benefit. “Get out here! I’ve got the Sight of Ares, and the damned thing didn’t work! Now you wagered not five years ago that if you ever provided me with a poor piece of property, you’d let me at that bottle...”

He trailed off as he slowly reached the counter and found not a soul to be had...with the exception of a large pool of blood congealing on the countertop.

His eyes widened as he glanced around quickly, looking for some sign...any sign of what might have happened...

She emerged from behind the curtain just then...slim and swarthy, unearthly in her beauty. The white rag she used to wipe her hands was smeared in the same fresh, blinding crimson death...Alva realized that he would probably never know precisely what had happened to Anson.

All he would ever know was that Anok Sun Amun had killed him.

~ “Whatever you’re after...you won’t get it.” ~ Alva informed her quietly in hesitant Egyptian. He wasn’t fluent, but he could hold his own.

Her smile was a razor as she slowly glided around the counter and came to stand before him, answering in English. “You know my language...that’s good. It will make this easier.”

“You’ll have a hard time killing me...I’m not exactly defenseless.” he pointed out cooly. Physically, it was a lie, but metaphysically he was fairly sure that if he picked up the Eternal Sun sitting on an end table just to his left, he could stun her just well enough to run...

Anok Sun Amun laughed then, shaking her head as she reached up to touch his face gently. “Foolish scribe...I don’t intend to kill you. I don’t even intend to harm you. At least...not yet.”

Alva tried to jerk his head away from the to move her hand...but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He fought with all his being, but every muscle stayed loose and relaxed, even as bile rose in his throat at the intimacy of the caress.

“What the bugger did you do to me?” he snarled.

She smiled again...a razor that cut him to the quick as she leaned up, resting her hands on his chest. “Your town is not the only place of powerful magick, Keel.” she purred, nuzzling her nose against his. “All the power here...it is mine now. Just as you are.”

When her lips met his, Alva wanted to vomit...nausea churned in his stomach as he tasted ash, rotten linen, and pure death in her kiss. He realized then his grievous error...the incident in town, Anson’s shop in Hartford...the power which was at both her and Imhotep’s disposal.

She’d used the magick here to cause the disruption in Stars Hollow...every artifact here, every talisman and charm, created a breach just big enough for a single, small incident...

And gotten him out here to Hartford, beyond the town’s protections. Dear God, he had to warn Rick...

It was his last thought before the power she poured into him clouded his mind and turned the world black with the power she poured from her lips, and her soul, directly into his.

Muse: Alva Keel
Words: 712
Current Mood: distresseddistressed