Story of Sebastian

The Story of Sebastian, Chap One

The Story of Sebastian

Chapter One:

"You okay there, Sebastian?" Dubhan asked, nodding at my rolling arm.

"Fine." The fucker stared me down. "Yeah, yeah, so my informant didn't feel like talking. It's nothing."

"We can postpone this if you need time... the guy isn't going anywhere any time soon."

I stood to end the discussion. "We get him tonight and you know it. Any more time and who knows what he could do."

Dubhan nodded and went back to the plan. That's what I liked about the guy, he didn't press shit. My last partner didn't make it very long in this business. That guy was too busy questioning every damn detail. He'd been asking a question when he'd gotten blindsided. Dubhan was quick on his feet and in his head and that made us an excellent team. We'd been doing this for at least a decade. Sure, he watched my back, but he also took care of his own. Yeah, I respected the shit out of that Warrior.

"So, we'll take the usual accessories and strike from here..."

I sat back down and eased forward on the groaning chair. We were big guys, the chairs had seen better days, and I didn't feel like landing on my ass. After all, the floor probably hadn't been mopped in ages. I studied the layout on the map Dubhan was gesturing over. So the son of a bitch was holed up in some old castle ruin... how quaint and predictable.

"This is really getting boring..."

Dubhan stared up at me. "I'm sorry, would you like me to spice this up?" I didn't miss the sarcasm in his voice.

I leaned back. "Seriously, don't these fuckers ever try something different?"

A black brow arched over an equally black eye in response and I groaned. "Different bad guy, same m-o..." I stood and stretched until my back popped. "A challenge would be nice for once."

"Meet up back here at 4?"

I smiled, so like the guy to ignore the philosophical side of crime fighting. He was all business. "Yeah, that's fine. Just point me in the right direction and we'll be back for dinner."

I watched him leave with all his notes tucked under his arm. Okay, so I wasn't in the mood for planning. Who could blame me? We'd been tracking this fucker all over Europe for months now. I was tired of the chase. I wanted a quick kill and on to the next challenge. If I was honest, this guy was smarter than the last one. He moved around on a not so regular basis and he had a lot of minions to go through. Finally dawned on me that I never asked Dubhan how he'd managed to track him down.

I walked outside and stretched again, restlessness always pulled at me. The air was cool and damp; typical moody Irish weather. I'd probably be sweating by noon. The question was how to keep myself busy until 4pm. Why bad guys always ran around during the day was beyond me, but it was an important lesson. Show up before dinner and not only would Mr. Bad Guy not be home but he wouldn't come home. They always had some kind of alarm system that let them know they'd been found. Interesting that they all did the same thing, sure they found different ways to spend their time but they were always bloody predictable.

I gave up on the scenery and headed back to my room. Might as well kill some time by writing everything down. Don't know what started the journal writing, but I did it every day without fail. Some inner dialogue about writing the rules down for the next guy to take my place, I told myself. I didn't completely buy into the excuse, but I felt okay using it. I studied the previous information on this guy before jotting down this morning's notes. This was a major nasty in my book. Guy liked to think of himself as a dark sorcerer. Yeah, right. He was a masochistic asshole with a penchant for run-away young women. And the women he tended to go after were from my neck of the woods, the powerful sort. Some how he sucked them dry and every dead girl made him stronger, hence the need to kill him quickly and soon.

I tossed the book back into my bag and snorted. Sick fucker, just the kind I liked to see dead. I wandered my way into the shabby excuse for a shower and soaked under the hot water. It eased the stinking in my arm, but it didn't slow down my brain. Our Mr. Magic had to move only when he'd kidnapped the wrong girl. He occasionally grabbed a human girl whose trail was harder to get rid of. That put him in sight of the human authorities and I still wasn't sure he was supernatural or human. The inconsistencies of his mistakes spoke to him being human... or really stupid. I could spot a supernatural from across the room. Of course, they'd all cringe if they heard me call them that.

Toweling off, I studied myself in the mirror. I was a supernatural and it was all I knew. Every other being was extremely proud of what they were... Dark One, Fairy, fucking Lephrechaun, Tuatha... it wasn't good to insult them by grouping them into one set, but it was what I did. I didn't know my own roots, so I didn't count the subtle differences among races. Everyone was good or evil, so some walked a fine line like me. A fine line was better that falling off the cliff into hell. I'd killed them all at some point for stepping out of line. I'd fallen into the business of being an Enforcer.