The concept of 'Immortals' and 'The Game' belongs to Panzer/Davis of Highlander. So it stands to reason that the character of Adam Pierson and any other Highlander characters that are likely to pop up are the creation and property of Panzer/Davis. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. Several upcoming characters will belong to their creators on the RPG list and I will point those out as they appear. In this story, Erin does not belong to me. Erin belongs to Carrie. Antar belongs to Rob. Van and Reid belong to me. Landon belongs to herself and to me.
Thank you to my beta readers: Lorenzo and Kim
Landon's Diary
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
November 27, 2000
Bon Jovi Concert
Part 2
Antar posted that he had this rule… If he runs into someone new once, it's nothing to bother with; that happens all the time. If he runs into her twice, there is purpose behind it. Call it karma, fate or destiny if you want but whatever you call it, it's something he does not dismiss. This rule applies double in this case in that this person isn't like any random person. This person is quite unique. Antar goes on to describe Landon as he sees her: a beautiful, lucky to still have her head considering how vulnerable being an Immortal teenager is, and special in that she has knowledge of other kinds of immortals not like herself. He includes in his observation that he found himself tempted to bite her, but he does not bite her. He introduces himself instead.
"I'm the Princess of Wales," Landon scoffed. "Pleased to meet you."
Outwardly the Immortal girl played it cool, but secretly, she was shaking, terrified, but also impressed. This Immortal who stood before her called himself Antar. She knew he was no ordinary Immortal. He was a vampire. An extremely bold vampire to move as he just had among so many mortals. She had seen him first on the upper level of the Air Canada Centre and seconds later he appeared below her on the stairs down to the floor of the arena.
Landon could feel Antar's vampiric presence enveloping her and wondered how thoroughly he was mentally scanning her. But it wasn't like she really had a choice. If he wanted to invade her thoughts, he would do it. He was tall and lean and gorgeous but that did not entitle him to any part of her. She was however relieved to remember vampires do not involve themselves in The Game. She should not be requiring her sword tonight; at least not with Antar. Landon hoped she might also be safe from Antar's vampiric nature. There would be no bloodletting here surrounded by so many concertgoers. If he meant to attack her, he would have already lured her outside and done so. He would not have approached her and engage in conversation. She hoped she'd guessed right with her limited experience dealing with such creatures of the night.
Landon noticed that beside her Van shot an annoyed look in her direction. Van took one step down the stairs, urging her to follow him.
Suddenly the lights in the arena cut out, leaving all three creatures in utter darkness. Well, at least two of them. Antar could probably still see just fine.
"I've got to go," Landon said. "Jon's about to take the stage, and I've got a concert to bootleg."
Antar remained still and silent, the expression taking over his face was impossible to read.
Landon turned as a strange sort of elevator music wafted from the huge speakers. Her heart leapt at the desire to be in that front row when her band burst onto the stage in their customary explosion of light.
Just as she'd forgotten him, a barely noticeable tug at her elbow caused her to stop and turn back around. Antar stood there staring at her. Landon felt herself shiver, scarcely able to believe the vampire had touched her. Landon hoped it was just a continuation of his consistent boldness. Landon thought of Armand, the first vampire she had ever encountered. He, though unquestionably bold in his own ways, had been careful with his contact with her. She had WATCHED his hands come up to take her by the shoulders. She had WATCHED those soft cold hands move to her face. Antar had reached out to her when she did not watch. She tried to mentally shake off the uneasiness at the difference and concentrate on the possibility that Antar might know Armand. It had been thirteen years since Armand had first appeared to her. The girl had heard Armand was gone. As in dead; ashes; the way vampires typically react to the rays of sunrise. Perhaps Antar could confirm or deny the news. Landon, as a rule, always harbored hope in and for all the things and people she loved.
"Van? Go on down to our seats. I'll be there in a minute," Landon promised. The elevator-like music played on. Bon Jovi was so close. She reached covertly into her coat and set the mini-disc to recording. Then she shrugged off the coat, handing it to Van. He stood there holding it, his mouth agape, his eyes revealing his utter shock and confusion.
"Do you even know this guy?" he cried over the screaming fans. "I'm not just gonna leave you here." Van stared intently at Antar. The two would stand at eye level if on an even surface but not these arena steps.
Landon kissed Van quickly, her eyes and mouth calm and steady. "I'm fine," she told Van. "I do know him. He is Antar." Landon turned to the vampire and repeated, "I'm fine." The Immortal heard her voice saying these words as they tumbled from her lips but she could not clearly remember the thoughts forming behind them.
Van must have realized the futility of his arguing further with her, and though frustrated he took off down the stairs toward his brother and Landon's older, pretty friend.
Later Landon might notice she had handed over her two most prized possessions to a mortal, a toy to be played with and someday forgotten. Van walked away with Landon's mauve coat and her weapon of the Immortals: her sword. But for now, she did not notice.
Landon stuffed her small hands into the pockets of her tight black leather pants. "I'm not really the Princess of Wales," she smiled slyly at Antar.
"But you were once, in a way," the gorgeous vampire told her. His sparkling violet eyes held her irrevocably. People rushed past them down the stairs. The elevator music had ceased. The crowd was absolutely roaring. Bon Jovi had taken the stage.
"You don't know who I am," Landon warned.
Antar spoke again as if she had not spoken a word. "Your title may have paled over the years, Landon, but you still wear your crown." Antar paused and glanced over Landon's head down toward the stage. Did he see the band or did he see her friends?, Landon wondered absently. Antar's gaze returned to the girl's brown irises and he said, "Your noble place shall be restored someday. Of this I am sure."
Such riddles! We've just met!, Landon's brain screamed at her. What right did this vampire have to prophesize about crowns or thrones or whatever in Landon's life? Antar spoke just like Armand had: deep yet meaningless gypsy words. Playing with her mind, but for what purpose? Everywhere she'd gone this week, everyone she'd met tried to interfere with her karma and with her tradition with Adam Pierson. Landon should have forgotten that man by now, but everyone was interfering. First Erin, the Watcher and Adam's protégé, and now Antar, whether he knew it or not.
Princess of Wales, Landon laughed to herself. What a joke, but a wonderful dream to hold on to. Adam had first found her in Wales, but his princess she had never been. Self centered ideas these may be, Landon actually hoped Antar's vampire mind could read hers now.
"Speak in plain English," she demanded of him, "Or I'm going downstairs to my seat."
Bon Jovi was halfway through the exhilarating first verse of "One Wild Night." It sure has been one of those, Landon thought to herself. And it's not nearly over, she thought as she followed the vampire out of the large arena and to a darker corner of the stretching corridor…
to be continued
© 2000 Rain Pierson
first penned December 2000
revised through April 2001
