Jackson and Macy arrived at the sprawling old farm within minutes of Anthony and Vivian. The others were more limited and would likely not arrive until later that evening. The four of them were met by an elderly grounds keeper by the name of Arthur Phipps. He had such a heavy Australian accent that it was almost difficult to understand him. He showed them around and gave them two sets of keys.

"Not many folk lock their doors way out here, but in case you feel the need..." he explained as he handed Anthony the sets.

There were separate keys for the top and bottom front locks and a key for the lock on the back patio. He also handed Anthony a separate key that went to the padlock on an old barn that was just a few yards away out in back of the house.

"Only have one of them, but I reckon you won't be needing more 'n that," he said, referring to the key to the barn.

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Phipps. We'll take good care of the place for the owners. Rest assured," Anthony said, shaking the old guy's hand. "Who shall I make payment to for the rent?"

Mr. Phipps looked at him in surprise. "Why, I was told the business end was already finished up."

Anthony turned around and looked at Jackson who just shrugged, winked, and then wandered off to take a look around. Vivian's expression was blank and Macy was busily opening drapes and windows, trying to air out the place.

He turned back and nodded at the grounds keeper. "Well, that should do it then."

"Will you folks be needing me to come check up on you later?" Mr. Phipps asked.

"No. No, I think we'll be fine. I wouldn't mind having a phone number to call of I need to reach you, though."

"Oh! Yes. The phone number is on a board in the kitchen by the telephone," Mr. Phipps informed him. "We're old fashioned 'round these parts. You've got the use of a land line if you want it. Just keep track of your long distance so you can pay for it, that's all."

Anthony's eyebrows went up and he smiled. "Well, thank you, sir. That may come in handy."

When the old guy was sure they didn't need him any further, he went out and climbed into an ancient pick-up truck and chugged off down the long, dusty drive way that led to the road.

Jackson wandered back into the front hall where Anthony was and grinned. "I feel like a genuine red neck, I tell you what!"

Anthony laughed and shook his head. "Hey! It's secluded and we'll have privacy. I think it's perfect."

"Don't get me wrong. I like it very much, actually," Jackson said.

The two girls were busy dusting and wiping things down. Macy carried the couch cushions out onto the wrap around porch and beat the hell out of them with a broom. When things were dust-free and brighter downstairs, the four went up the old stair case to the second floor.

There was a landing at the top. A corridor split off both to the left and the right. There was a bedroom on each side of both corridors. At the ends were identical master suites, complete with full bathrooms and dressing rooms. Each wing had an upstairs bathroom leading off the main corridor as well.

"Whoever built this house must have had a lot of money," Vivian said when they discovered the second master suite. "It sure is big for a farm house."

"Well, it's perfect for us," Macy said. "Who gets the big master bedrooms?"

"Hey, first come, first serve! What do you think?" Vivian replied with a smile. "Whoever does stay in the big ones has to share with someone, though."

Anthony opened his mouth to say something, but Macy spoke first. "I think Natalie and I should take one, you and Natasha the other, and the boys can all have their own rooms."

"Yeah. I have a feeling Natasha will have a tantrum if we put her with anyone but me."

"I think she will, too," Macy agreed.

Jackson gazed at her with a thoughtful expression. Suddenly he grinned and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Guess you're going to have to be sneaking into my room at night then, right Miz Grey? I wouldn't want to startle Vivian."

"Jackson! What on earth?" Macy squeaked, batting his hand away. "Come help me with my things, darling, could you?"

With that she hurried out of the room and headed toward the stairs. Anthony and Vivian exchanged a curious look and then followed the two detectives out of the suite.

...............................

Serena perched on top of a fence watching the new guards train with Gideon. They weren't very smart, but they were strong. As a matter of fact, none of the guards who worked for her Master were very intelligent. They all seemed to be all brawn and zero brains. Some could hardly read.

She sighed and thumbed the hilt of the blade on her hip. Gideon was pretty smart. He knew how to fight and he knew how to manipulate. If there were a "Captain of the Guards", it would be him. She watched as he squared off with two of the new recruits. They charged him and he ducked under one, whirled and then used him as a shield from the other. Then he gave the dazed brute a shove and sent him sprawling into the other, knocking them both over like dominos.

The others stood by slack-jawed as they watched. Serena hopped off the fence and glided gently to the ground. She walked over to the sweaty group of men and waited for Gideon to call a short break before approaching him.

"You look more worried than you usually do, Miss Serena." Gideon said before taking a swig from his water bottle. "What can I help you with?"

She shrugged and her golden eyes scanned the new men thoughtfully. She walked over to them and slowly looked each one up and down before returning to speak to Gideon.

"There seems to be.... something in common with every guard who works for the Master," she murmured, half to herself.

"Of course there is. They are all strong, but not smart enough to ask too many questions. Why the sudden concern?"

She ignored his question. Turning her gaze directly on him, she asked, "What is this 'lab' he speaks of? Where you were to get the new recruits."

Gideon spat on the ground off to the side and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You are going to see the facilities tonight. I have orders to take you over there and give you a brief tour. I'll meet you at the chapel at 7 PM."

"I see. That would be helpful. Thank you."

He started to turn back toward the waiting men, but when she didn't walk away, he hesitated. "Somethin' else on your mind?"

"The Master seems concerned. He speaks of people coming to do him harm."

"Yeah. So I've heard. What of it?"

"Does this worry you? Why would anyone seek to harm him? Has he done something to make anyone angry? I would appreciate you telling me anything that would be helpful."

Gideon snorted. He shook his head and looked away for a moment. When he looked back at her, he grinned. "No. I'm not worried. And yeah. He's done things that many folks would find objectionable. It isn't our job to judge what he does, though, is it? We are here to serve him in any way he sees fit. You'd be wise to just do his bidding and not ask too many questions. You'll know what he wants you to know when he wants you to know it."

She bowed her head. "You are right. I am sorry. I just hoped to gather information that might help me to protect him from whatever is coming." She raised her eyes back up to meet his.

"Don't you worry about his safety. The Master is more than capable of protecting himself."

"Why would he be concerned with keeping me close to him? He seemed as though he wanted protection if and when this enemy arrives."

Gideon threw his head back and laughed, startling her. She took a step back.

"Have I amused you in some way?"

"You sure have!" he laughed, giving her a look she didn't appreciate. It was a look that said he believed she was naive and ignorant. "If the Master indicated that he wants you near him if danger arrives, it is most probably so that he can protect you. Not because he needs you to protect him."

"I see. So all of the guards in his service are in place for my protection, then. Is that what you are telling me?"

The smile left his eyes and he stiffened a little bit. She saw it and knew she had him in check-mate.

"Like I said. You'd be wise not to be asking too many questions," he stated again. He turned on his heel and strode back over to the group of muscle-men without as much as a backward glance.

"What are all of the guards for, Gideon?" she called after him, but he didn't answer. She wasn't surprised.

That evening, she walked into the dark chapel at around 6:45 PM. She was a little early. The chapel was extremely old and it was falling apart. The building was crumbling very slowly. It had been a long, long time since any kind of services had been held there. The high windows were mostly broken out. A few still had some shards of stained glass clinging to them. There was only one window still intact in the whole chapel. It was a stained glass image of an angel with wings spread and arms held out in a welcoming gesture. The angel's wings were white and his skin was pale. 

Serena often stared at the stained glass angel. It was the nearest species to whatever she was, even if they were only created from the human imagination. She often wondered if maybe they weren't imaginary or fantasy. Maybe angels walked amongst the humans a long time ago. Maybe she was descended from one. She had no way of knowing. It didn't help that most of her memory was gone, either. She couldn't recall her childhood, her parents, siblings, or anything except fragments of images she couldn't piece together enough to get a clue.

As she walked slowly up the dusty aisle, careful not to trip over the rocks and weeds that had sprung up from the cracks in the floor, she gazed up at the gigantic cross that now lay sideways behind where the pulpit would have been. It seemed to have fallen over at some point, never to be righted. The statue of Christ that had once been hanging from the cross was mostly dust and chunks of clay on the floor. There was one hand still nailed there, broken at the wrist. 

She stood there completely lost in thought and when she heard Gideon's voice behind her, she nearly sliced his head off. Her blade was unsheathed and against his throat before he could finish his sentence. He had started to say, "Do you believe...." when he was cut off by the flash of the knife and its sharp edge just seconds from opening his jugular.

"You shouldn't sneak up on an armed woman," she said, stepping back and sheathing her blade. "Do I believe what?"

His voice croaked when he tried to speak again and he had to clear his throat and try again. "In God," he managed to say. He was visibly shaken by her lightning fast reaction to his presence behind her.

"I am very sorry for the knife to your throat," she said carefully before answering his question. He reached up and wiped a small fleck of blood from his neck. "I can't say that I believe in a particular 'god'. It is difficult to believe in much when you can't remember anything from your past. If there was any indication that there was a 'god' to believe in... Surprisingly enough, I am the type of person that requires solid proof of something or someone's existence before I put my faith in them."

"I'd say you yourself are pretty solid proof that God exists. Or maybe that Lucifer does, because you resemble a demon more than an angel."

She didn't reply. She felt a shudder run through her body as his words trickled into comprehension. She glanced back toward the fallen cross once more and then moved to step around him, heading back toward the entrance.

"Let's go," she whispered as she passed him.

She could sense him falling into step behind her and she put her shoulders back and her chin up. She refused to allow words spoken by anyone else to define her or categorize her. Whatever she was, she wasn't evil. She very well may not be human, but she didn't believe that she was a demon, either.

"That wasn't meant to be taken as an insult," she heard him mutter from behind.

"In what kind of reality would being likened to a demon not be insulting?" she asked without turning to look at him.

"A reality in which your Master is the Devil himself."

..........................

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