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Thank you, dear readers for being so patient. As a reward, here's a long addition.

For the second time in three nights, Sara sat on her sofa staring at the box of items her father had left her. This time, the staring was accompanied by beer - two, in fact. The box sat unopened on the coffee table before her. She loved her father, and he loved her. That had been enough for her for so many years. But now she had the Witchblade and needed to know more about it which meant investigating her past. The information Gabriel dug up was coming but slowly. Irons was a Witchblade expert, but there was no way in hell she'd ask him. Nottingham probably knew as much Irons, but Sara doubted that Nottingham would go against his master's orders. She didn't know what the objects in the box meant, but she was beginning to realize that she had to find out who she was. Did her birth parents know about the Witchblade? Was that why they put her up for adoption? Was she a Bronte or a Jamison? Both? Neither?

Sara set the beer bottle down on the coffee table next to the other empty one. She sat back and closed her eyes, thinking about what Gabriel had said. "Maybe you aren't alone in this." And right now she could really use someone to talk to about this. Where the hell are you, Danny? The Witchblade tingled on her wrist, and a comforting warmth spread through her. Refuge. Nottingham.

"I might enjoy your visits more if you actually knocked."

"If I knocked," Nottingham replied easily from her left, "would you actually let me visit?"

Sara almost smiled at that and blamed the beer. She opened her eyes and spotted Nottingham standing by the edge of the couch. He was dressed again in what she thought of as his uniform - coat, combat boots, cargo pants and watchcap - and she couldn't help herself from asking, "Slumming?" Damn beer.

His brow furrowed slightly in confusion, and Sara saved herself from explaining by asking, "Why are you here?"

"You have questions."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And you have answers for me?"

His eyes met hers, and he nodded once. He seemed to hesitate, then nodded again with more certainty.

"Okaaay," she drawled. "You. Jarod. Warrior bloodlines. Tell me about it."

"Throughout the history of the Witchblade, there have been those whose destiny is tied to the Witchblade and the Wielder. They are chosen by the Wielder. The Chosen is…an associate…a sibling of sorts. He or she serves as a partner, friend…" He seemed to be struggling to find the right word. "…an ally… a champion…a companion…a consort…"

"A lover?"

"Sometimes," he said softly, then lowered his head slightly. "Sometimes an enemy."

Sara frowned, not quite understanding why the Wielder would 'choose' an enemy.

Nottingham added, "Their duty is to help the Wielder reach her full potential. To push her to use the Witchblade, to teach the Wielder, to help her understand it. To challenge her."

Sara suddenly remembered Irons' words when she had first acquired the Witchblade. "We are linked, you and I. Does this disturb you?"

"So Irons is from one of these bloodlines?"

"Yes."

"And you, too?"

Nottingham nodded and Sara's vision blurred for an instant…

Irons sitting on a piano bench, turning to a little boy with dark hair and troubled brown eyes who was saying, "Father, I had the dream again…"

Sara had known that the two men had a relationship that was more than employer/employee, but she would not have guessed that it was a familial one. It did, however, go a long way to explain some of Nottingham's behavior. She tilted her head slightly, feeling a strange mixture of tenderness and confusion towards Nottingham. "Like father, like son."

Ian shrugged. "In this lifetime."

Sara sat back, crossing her arms across her chest. "I rejected him, so now I'm stuck with you?"

Sara saw the flash of hurt in his eyes before he focused on the floor. He said, "Only if you wish it."

"And if I don't?"

"There are others."

Without warning, Sara's vision blurred again…

A Wielder dressed in the Japanese armor of a samurai, smiling, being hugged from behind by a man who had his face in her neck…the man lifting his head…the brown eyes, the long black hair…except for the moustache, the man looked just like Danny…He turned the Wielder towards him and cupped her face with his hands, saying, "We will go across the sea. As long as we are together, we will be safe. I promise you, Itagaki…"

Sara blinked as the vision faded, then bolted off the sofa. When she looked at Nottingham, she saw that Danny now stood a few feet from the wall at Nottingham's left. Danny had a sad smile on his face, while Nottingham looked tense and ready to attack as he scanned the general area where Danny stood.

Sara pursed her lips, trying to hold in her anger. She looked at Nottingham accusingly. "Like Danny? He was from one of these bloodlines too, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you didn't help me that day at the Rialto? Is that why you let Danny die that day? So I would choose you or your master instead?"

"Sara," Danny started in a warning tone, but Sara interrupted him angrily.

"Stay out of it, Danny!"

Nottingham looked from Sara to the spot she had addressed then let out a breath, visibly relaxing. He turned back to her and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Do you really believe either of us had a choice that day?"

Sara opened her mouth ready to argue with him then shut it just as quickly as she realized that he was right. The Witchblade had orchestrated that fiasco to test her. It had manipulated all of them. She glanced at Danny, who now stood leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets. He appeared to be watching her conversation with Nottingham with little more than casual interest.

Sara waited a moment, forcing her anger to subside. "Why did you knock Jake out?"

"If I had not, he would also be dead."

"Didn't think you cared."

"I don't," Nottingham replied honestly, "but he, like Gabriel, is not a part of this." With his right hand he made a small back-and-forth motion, indicating the Witchblade, Sara and himself.

And that answered what would have been Sara's next question.

"Jarod is from one of the Chosen bloodlines?" She made it sound like a question, but she already knew the answer.

"Yes."

"Is he your brother?"

Nottingham smiled somewhat sadly. "Not in this lifetime. Unfortunately."

"And Parker is from a different Wielder line?"

"Yes."

"Does Irons want her to take the Witchblade from me?"

Nottingham's eyes widened ever so slightly, and Sara was sure she had surprised him with the question.

"I do not know...but I do not think so."

Sara raised a questioning eyebrow. Irons wanted to control the Wielder, that much Sara knew for certain, and if he couldn't control Sara, she was sure he would find an alternate. Parker seemed like a good candidate.

Nottingham added, "I am certain Parker does not know about the Witchblade… at least, not yet. Neither does Jarod."

If she did, would she want it? Sara wondered. And what would she do with it? Sara glanced at Danny. He looked pointedly at the box on her coffee table then tilted his head at Nottingham.

Sara opened her mouth to ask Nottingham about her family and closed it just as quickly. It really bothered her that he could know more about her life than she did. It made her believe that she didn't know who she was at all. She had always felt a certain security as Sara Pezzini, cop and daughter of a cop, but now the Witchblade seemed to be going out of its way to take that security away from her. Was it trying to unbalance her? To gain more control over her? Or was it just blindly leading her to the truth?

Danny said, "Just ask him, Pez."

She glared at Danny who just smirked at her then she focused on Nottingham again. "Do you know who my birth parents are? Does Irons?"

Nottingham looked at her with an expression so full of sympathy that she almost believed it. "Mr. Irons might, but I do not. I am sorry, Sara."

Sara plopped herself back on the sofa, staring at the box. She stopped herself from asking the other questions that kept swirling in her head. Did her birth parents know about the Witchblade? Is that why I was adopted by…the Pezzinis? Is Elizabeth Bronte my grandmother? Why were Jarod and Parker brought into my life now? Did they or The Centre know anything about her birth parents?

She wasn't sure how long she sat there lost in her thoughts, but she barely registered Nottingham's voice as he said, "Perhaps, I should go."

She looked up to find him halfway to the front door. "One more question, Ian."

He turned back to her, his expression expectant and open.

She stood again, walking around the sofa, wanting to be face to face with him when she asked the question on her mind. "Why? Why go against Irons now?"

He took a few steps closer to her. "Because the only thing I can give you, the only thing you would accept from me right now, is the truth."

Nottingham sounded sincere, but Sara still wasn't sure she could trust him.

Danny said, "He's trying, Sara. Despite what it might cost him."

Sara looked over her shoulder at Danny. "What do you mean?"

Danny looked at her as if she was a complete idiot. "Figure it out."

Between Nottingham's familial ties to Irons and his Black Dragon training, it was no small thing for Nottingham to be disloyal to Irons. She heard the click of her front door and snapped her head back around. Nottingham was gone.

~*~*~*~*~

to be continued...