Title: Redemption
Series: Biblical
Author: Christina A
Fandom: Brimstone
Pairing: None
Characters: Ezekiel Stone, The Devil, Charlotte Rameses
Category: Alternate Universe, Drama, Angst, Original Character, UST
Warning: None
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Ezekiel Stone or The Devil or the concept of Brimstone. I do, however, own Charlotte.
Author’s Notes: This is the third story in the Biblical series.
Summary: The third story in the ‘Biblical’ series.
Redemption
by Christina A
Ezekiel Stone watched her as he had on so many occasions. It had been a year since he’d betrayed her trust. A year of their paths crossing and Charlotte barely looked at him. She wouldn’t speak to him unless it was necessary. She made no qualms about telling Lt. Fraker to remove him from ‘her’ crime scenes. She didn’t stop him from doing what he needed to do, but if it wasn’t one of his souls, he was quickly asked to leave.
He had sat back and watched as her colleagues cajoled the beautiful woman. Her nicknames included ‘Ice Queen’ and ‘Mega Bitch’. She’d distanced herself from everyone, allowing no one to get close to her. He had been the last. He hadn’t discussed the file with her; he’d believed the Devil to have given him all the facts. Stupid, he knew, and it had hurt her.
She’d opened herself up to him, and he’d hurt her. Charlotte hadn’t opened herself to anyone the way she had to him. She’d lived a sheltered life, only letting down the walls after he’d determinedly punched a hole in them. But they were back up now and fortified with metal girders.
Thing was… he wasn’t so sure he should try to break them down again. He’d gathered most of the souls, though collecting the last thirty was the most difficult. He had no guarantees that he’d get his second chance, and if he didn’t… if he went back to Hell, it wouldn’t be fair to the one he left behind.
So he stayed away.
He stayed away, but he watched.
Right now, she was working a crime scene, yet another ritualistic series of murders. This one killed his victims in multiples of three and collected the eyes as trophies. Those two facts alone were enough to draw Zeke to the scene.
“I swear, first year cadets at the police academy know more about working a crime scene than you do,” Charlotte addressed the man who had been assigned as her partner for this particular investigation. “I know it may be a bit much for you to comprehend, but touching *anything* with your bare hands contaminates the evidence.” She brushed passed him. “Just get out of here.”
The man said nothing, seemingly relieved to be freed from her presence.
Seeing as to how this was more than likely the work of one of his callers, Zeke approached her. “Bit harsh, weren’t you?”
She sighed as if tolerating him was pushing the limits. “This is probably one of yours, so I’ll share what I know. But do not dictate to me how to deal with my subordinates. It is none of your business.”
“Funny, I thought he was your partner. Aren’t partners equals?”
The nonchalance of the statement was enough to make her turn cold eyes to him. “You really do not know as much as you think you do. He is not my partner, merely assigned to assist me with this investigation.” She looked away from him in disgust. “Assist me. In case you do not understand, that means he does what I ask him to do. Therefore, he is a subordinate.”
Zeke turned slightly so he was facing her profile. “Isn’t everyone a subordinate to you, Charlotte?” That said, he walked away, moving to investigate the bodies.
She watched him walk away and as his back was to her, she let a momentary flash of pain cross her face. She’d come so close to falling for him. The little jibes used to have been in jest for both of them. He’d teased her to get a reaction out of her. But now… now it was serious. Now there was a gulf between them. It was one that she wasn’t sure could ever be crossed. It seemed he didn’t want to anyway. “As of yet,” she informed him, “we have not ascertained exactly how the eyes are removed. It is post-mortem; I do know that.” She kept her voice as neutral as possible.
Kneeling next to one of the corpses, he investigated it without touching it. “There’s no trauma to the eye sockets.”
“Precisely.” She crossed over to him. “It’s how you can tell it is post-mortem. That and the other things.” She knelt beside him, using her pen to point to the victim’s eye sockets. “It has got to be one of yours, Detective.”
“I concur, Special Agent,” he responded, making his tone match hers. Sometimes, just being in her presence was exhausting.
“There’s something more,” she stood and carefully crossed over to where there was a mass of evidence tags. “It’s Sumerian. Text is written in blood.”
“Of course,” Zeke stood and made his way to stand beside her. “Have you translated it yet? This is one of the thousands of languages you speak, right?” He knew he was over exaggerating the number. He also hoped there would be a reaction.
“Sumerian is a dead language, Ezekiel. I have, however, translated the text. I speak over twenty languages, including varying dialects, and read and write approximately fifteen more. Those numbers hardly equal a thousand, and I would appreciate it if you did not belittle my abilities. I certainly do not belittle yours.”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She came through like gangbusters on the language jab, but as usual, she took it to the next level and turned insulting. “You belittle everyone, every chance you get.”
“I most certainly do not! I especially do not belittle your abilities as a detective. You’ve collected far more souls than even I believed you would.”
“Why, Charlotte,” Zeke gave her a smile. “I do believe you just paid me a compliment.”
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the text. “Do not let it go to your head,” she said but could in no way look at him.
“Too late,” he replied as he came to stand beside her again. “So what does this say?”
“It actually expounds on the ritual that is being performed. At least this block does.” She looked at Zeke, noticed his furrowed brows, and continued, “The soul you’re chasing was a scribe in Sumeria. The writing is precise… no mistakes. See this?” She pointed to a set of symbols. “This is four and twenty. I deduce that there are going to be twenty-four victims total. Thus far, there have been twelve.”
“Halfway there. Does this tell us anything about where we can find him though?”
“I wish I knew for sure. I do not enjoy the idea of knowing that twelve more people will die like this.” She pointed to even more script. “The ritual contains the soul within the eyes and then the eyes are removed. In essence, he is holding their souls captive. There’s more script, but I need time to translate it.”
Zeke let his eyes drift closed. Charlotte was a hard ass, but she held a sense of duty when it came to protecting innocent people. “Then we have to set them free.”
“We?”
“Yes, Charlotte. We. I need your help. I can’t read what he’s written. I certainly can’t speak his language.”
She thought about it for a long moment. Until now, she’d let him trail his own souls. He hadn’t asked for her help, and she hadn’t offered. He was right, though, he was going to need her for this one. “I will assist you,” she said before turning on her heel and walking out.
Zeke watched her go, but wasn’t surprised at who took her place.
“You think if you play nice and buy her roses, she’ll forgive you?” the Devil cajoled. “Such a kind soul, that one.”
“Leave her alone.”
“My dear, Ezekiel, is that a threat? Really. Do you think she’s one of mine?”
“No. Not in the least.”
The Devil didn’t reply, merely smiled.
Ezekiel sighed and finally turned to face his nemesis. “And, no, I don’t think she’ll forgive me. I’m not sure I want her too.”
“I’m not going to welch on our deal. You return all my souls; you get a second chance.”
Zeke rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, and the Devil never lies.”
Again, there was no response. There was only a laugh as he slowly faded away.
*-*-*
A week later…
“Charlotte?” Zeke questioned over a cup of coffee. They had reached a level of comfort that had once again allowed them to meet for cups of coffee. Invariably, she would buy him dinner. She knew Zeke’s monetary situation, and though she found the food barely suitable for human consumption, she was very generous with the way she spent her father’s money.
“Was there more to your question, Ezekiel, or were you merely inquiring as to the fact of whether or not Charlotte is my name? I can provide proof that it is.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were trying to be funny.”
The look she gave him was completely serious. “I was not.”
“I know. And the answer to your retort is ‘Yes’. There is more. I was just thinking of how to phrase the question.”
“Then you should think it through before you command my attention.”
“I wasn’t commanding any…” And that’s when he saw it… the glimmer of a smile that he hadn’t seen from her in months. “Well, holy Hell, Charlotte, you do have a sense of humor.”
“Once in a great while,” she explained, “I like to play the role of bitch to extreme to see how red your face will turn.”
He laughed loudly. “That is not very becoming behavior for the daughter of diplomats.”
“True,” she took another sip of her coffee. “There are times, Ezekiel, that you forget that my mother is capable of great humor. It would serve you well to remember that.”
“That it would.” He nodded over to her briefcase. “Now, I was going to ask about your evidence.”
She gave him a soft smile. “I took photos from all the crime scenes. The writing is Sumerian at each scene. The dialect is consistent throughout.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“A more amateur linguist may inadvertently slip between them, especially one who has aspired to be more than what he or she really is.”
“Quantity over quality.”
“Exactly. There are a few linguists who can master any language… any dialect.”
“You’re one,” he said, not meaning it as a jab, but as the compliment it was intended to be.
“Thank you,” she graciously accepted, smiling for the second time. Reaching into her briefcase, she presented him with the photos. “He’s actually telling a story. Sort of a chapter written for each victim. He knows them, studies them before he kidnaps them. From the profile, I’d bet he already has his next victims chosen. He may have already kidnapped one. We’ve received three reports of missing people since last night. One matches the criteria of the other victims. We’re looking into it.”
Zeke listened to every word she spoke, absorbed them like a sponge. She was an enigma… wearing a suit that cost a grand easily, drinking coffee from a sleazy diner, and talking to a dead man about a serial killer. People didn’t come any more complex than Charlotte Rameses. He was right back where he started from… wanting to get to know her… to break through the exterior to the woman underneath. Her past didn’t matter to him… but the future…
One thing at a time. Souls first. He’d capture the souls, get his life back, and then decide what to do about her.
“Ezekiel, are you listening to me? I already know all this information and do not need…”
He laughed, shaking his head to clear it. “I am. Just impressed with how smart you are, wondering what the hell a woman like you is doing having coffee with me.”
“You need me,” she stated flatly. “You need someone who can help you catch the escaped souls so you can live again.”
“You need me too,” he replied, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“I do,” she said. She knew she surprised him with that. She surprised herself as well. “I should not hold your past transgressions against you forever. Friends do not do that.”
“Exactly. I won’t hold yours against you either,” he affirmed. For the first time in a long time, he felt they were making progress.
“Very funny,” she teased. She stood and closed her briefcase. “I really should be leaving now, Ezekiel. I still have a lot of translating to do. Besides, we both know that I have made no such…”
It was the last she said, however, as she found herself spun around and in his arms. She also barely managed a gasp as his lips where on hers. He hadn’t thought as to why he was kissing her… just that he needed to… he wanted to… he had to. He’d been denied her for a year. And whether or not she was serious in her latest critique of his statement, he couldn’t deny any more that he wanted to kiss her. What surprised him most was that she returned the kiss. That she was just as passionate and driven in kissing as she was in everything else she did.
When they finally parted, he was half certain she would slap his face, turn on her heel, and walk away. What she did, however, was smile at him. She smiled, reached back and grabbed her briefcase, and kissed him again. “Redemption, Ezekiel, is such a wonderful thing,” she said quietly before moving out of his embrace and walking out of the restaurant.
He smiled at her as she walked away. “Oh yes,” he said softly. “Redemption is a wonderful thing. I hope I get it… all the way around.”
Tags: alternate universe, angst, charlotte rameses, drama, ezekiel stone, original character, rating: pg-13, the devil, ust