Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Firefly on Thu, 03/04/2004 - 18:54

Posted in

L.A. By Night Game Board

*** March 1, 2007, around 2 am ***
*** Isla Nublada ***

Daye stood on the deck and gazed down at the dark blue waters below. She listened to the hushed conversation behind her between Inés and her boyfriend, Connor. Further back, near the rear of the boat, the mysterious man who’d contacted them and started them on this road stood, staring into the water as well. Daye wondered again just who exactly Ellis Longwood was, and why he had gotten involved in this. Daye thought about how hectic the last week had been after Inés contacted Alessa’s mind, and Ellis gave them the final link to the Council. That was what had brought them here in the first place, and with any luck this would be the last leg of their long journey.

Daye scanned the island that they were approaching, the boat enshrouded in mists. She shivered, quickly zipping up the light jacket she was wearing. It was cold and wet here on the water, and the island didn’t appear to be any more inviting.

“Alessa, if you’re out there,” Daye whispered into the wind, “just hold on. We’re coming for you.”

Inés was listening distractedly to Connor beside her; she wasn’t really paying attention to him. Her thoughts were recounting all that had happened in the last two days. From the moment Daye, Ellis and her had put two and two together and discovered where Alessa had been taken, everything had happened in a rush. Ellis had almost taken over the whole operation, hiring a plane and then this boat to take them to the island where she was sure Alessa was being held captive. He knew people in Colombia, he had said, and right now he was proving he did.

She leaned on Connor and wondered again at his reasons for helping too, but she was really grateful to him for offering his help as soon as he knew of Alessa’s kidnapping. His temper had clashed several times with Alessa’s friend, Ellis, but he was holding his own, and risking much. A jungle was no place for a vampire if day caught them ashore.

The sight in front of her was strangely familiar, although it felt as if she were seeing it from above, probably from a plane. She knew this image wasn’t hers, it was Alessa’s and it was so full of dread that Inés gritted her teeth. Since the moment she had first got in touch with her cousin the images she received kept becoming more blurry and distressful, a jungle and fear was all she could feel at the moment. The quality of her thoughts was deteriorating in a worrisome pace.

She shivered, not only from the cold, and she was grateful to feel Connor’s strong arm go around her shoulders. She gave another look at the misty island that was slowly getting nearer and nearer. She sighed; she just hoped they got to Alessa in time.

Ellis heard the demoness sigh and frowned. He was worried too. His associates in Colombia had sounded terribly scared at the sole mention of Isla Nublada. That was exactly the kind of stuff that enraged him, peaceful demons being terrified by humans. For some time he had received vague reports of experimentation linked to the Council; many demons had apparently been taken to a research facility of some kind in South America not to be seen again. But he hadn’t been able to discover where the facility was situated nor exactly what kind of ‘things’ were done in it.

However it wasn’t until he had talked to Danny and confirmed that Alessa had been taken by the Council and her cousin had called telling him that she knew Alessa was in Colombia, that he had made the link between Alessa and the research facility. His hand closed in a tight fist at the thought of her in that island.

Daye turned towards the others as the boat bumped against the shore. A small stretch of beach extended out from the edge of the jungle, and that was where their guide had brought them. From what Ellis had said, the man was very nervous about coming to Isla Nublada, but he couldn't resist the ridiculous amount of money Daye had offered.

Whatever had happened to Alessa, she knew that once again the Council was somehow involved and even though it didn't make any logical sense, she felt responsible. She just hoped that Alessa was going to be all right, and that whatever research was going on here was not as horrible as she was beginning to suspect.

“Well, we had better start looking," Daye said to Inés. "If we can find her before the sun comes up, that would probably be for the best. We don't know what kind of monitoring they have set up here. I'd rather get Alessa and just get out.”

“Yes, we'd better,” said Ellis and turned to look at Connor.

The vampire raised an eyebrow but understood the look quite well. This man knew about his nature, and for some reason hadn’t reacted to it. He turned to help Inés out of the boat, but smiled when he saw her jump lithely from the deck. Inés looked at home in this tropical setting.

The demoness walked a few steps towards the jungle and stood motionless for a moment, as if listening, but the rest knew she was trying to catch any hint of Alessa’s scent. She turned to them after a couple of minutes.

“I can't smell her, but Ellis said Alessa would be near a brook or stream, and I can smell water. Let’s follow that trail,” she said and started to walk towards the jungle line, the rest following right behind her.

Ellis nodded. He had received that inside information the night they were leaving for Colombia. He just hoped Alessa hadn’t done something stupid just when they were coming to get her. He turned to signal the guide to wait for them with the boat ready and then walked behind them.

James followed soon after Inés. He was carrying enough ammo to kill a hundred Watchers. He was angered because of what happened to Alessa and besides, he was warming towards Inés and he wanted to help her. It gave him a reason to function. As they got to the jungle, James hung his rifle from his side and took out a big machete to open a way through the thick bush, behind Inés. Somehow the demoness seemed to glide along the greenery, and did not need a path.

"Jungle imp," he said to himself but caught her smiling at him over her shoulder.

"You can’t imagine how much," she said, laughing, and changed before his eyes. The hairy, brown creature was much more secure and able in the tropical jungle.

Daye followed Inés and the others, feeling more than a little apprehensive. This island was shrouded in more than just natural mists. She could feel the prickle of strong magic on her skin, and she detected great suffering. Daye was not as sensitive as Kate, so she knew whatever was happening here was very, very bad. She shivered as they entered the dark, forbidding jungle, concentrating. She might need her magic at a moment's notice, and she wanted to make sure she wasn't slow on the uptake.

Daye walked with Ellis, her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She desperately wanted to cast a spell to create some light, but knew that would be foolish. Instead, she stayed close to Ellis.

"Sorry if I seem a bit forward," Daye whispered, huddling near him, "but I'm a bit... well, to quote the Americans, freaked out. This place is really creepy."

Ellis turned his eyes from the demoness figure, and smiled at the Watcher.

“No problem,” he said, adjusting his pace to hers. “I agree with you. There’s something evil in this island, even I can feel it.” He looked around, he wasn’t carrying a rifle like Connor, but his gun was secure under his arm, unlocked and ready. “And we should be prepared…” he stopped at Daye’s stare, “for anything that may happen.”

Daye understood. She didn’t say anything more until they came to the river. Inés stopped there and bent low to the ground, apparently trying to scent out Alessa.

The Verbati squatted near a tree with large plank buttress roots. The mattress of dead leaves, insects and dust, so natural to all jungles, was unnaturally matted and trampled, as if somebody or something had slept there and she could smell Alessa’s scent. It was faint, very faint, but it was hers. Inés’ heart skipped a beat; finally, proof of Alessa being in the damn island.

Then she frowned. She sensed another smell as well, some kind of animal, probably a big mammal, mingled with Alessa’s scent. She stood up and moved towards the source of the smell, up in the trees. With a mighty jump she reached the lower branches of the giant tree, clawing her way securely up she got to the core of the tree. There the smell of Alessa was stronger, but so was the smell of the animal. She looked around trying to focus on the smells, her huge paws touching and feeling the tree’s branches, finally finding what she was looking for. In her hand was a tuft of hair, the cinnamon color of Alessa’s Verbati fur.

Inés jumped down then, resuming her human form before touching the ground with the grace of a big cat.

“She was here,” she said. “But so was a big mammal, probably some kind of cat. Follow me,” she said and started to move again.

As she walked she tried to reconstruct Alessa’s steps. Suddenly they walked into a small clearing among the trees. Inés walked surely following her cousin’s scent. A few feet away she found the spotted carcass of a jaguar; she squatted again next to it and touched it with a stick. It wasn’t stiff yet.

She looked up to the others and smiled broadly. “This explains the fight traces I found. She killed it.” Then she looked at the dead cat again. “Bien hecho, chica.”

“And it sm- looks fresh too,” added James, cursing from almost giving himself away; although the man already knew he was a vampire he didn’t want to alert the Watcher about it. “She can't be too far. Let’s go on.”

He watched their surroundings carefully; the full moonlight giving enough light to see around, but not enough to be too clear. The clearing finished a hundred feet away and the thick bush started again. Strange sounds and odors were coming from it.

James remembered his times in the Royal Army. He had been in jungles before, as a soldier, Africa, India… you name it, every major British Colony, and he could move in a jungle too. He looked at the back of Inés, already starting to cross the empty spot, and smiled… Well, not as well as she did, but he could manage himself quite expertly. He gripped the machete again and prepared to continue cutting their path into it.

Inés hurried her step, she felt the scent get stronger and stronger, and they were close. She was nearly running, gliding and moving with expertise through the undergrowth of the jungle. She was talking as she moved.

“She’s hurt, the cat… the cat hurt her. I can smell her blood; it’s a richer trail, her blood.”

Ellis gritted his teeth as he started to follow the pair in front of them, taking Daye’s elbow when the woman staggered with a raised root. More and more worried, as he heard Inés talking absently to herself. He couldn’t imagine the ordeal Alessa had had to go through in this forlorn island, hurt and alone, not knowing if she would ever make it. Wondering if… Chance… would get to her. He cursed, such timing!

They entered the jungle and were enveloped by its green darkness again. The humans could barely see the path Connor was making, but the swoosh of his machete cutting left and right was clear enough to follow.

“Wow!” came Inés’ startled cry from the front and he ran to join the two, almost collapsing into the vampire who extended an arm backwards to stop them. He steadied himself and looked down.

They were standing on a ledge, the trees growing just to the border, its roots protruding from it like dark hands off a tomb. There was a long drop down to yet another ledge and then, far below to a stream that glittered silver in the moonlight. Inés was looking down, her face the picture of dismay.

“She’s down there,” she whispered. “She must have fallen.”

James’ arms enveloped her. “Don’t lose hope, Alessa is a tough woman.” He turned to Daye and Ellis. “Care to do a little alpinism?”

“You go on, we’ll follow. This can't be worse than climbing Mount Blanc,” answered Ellis, eyeing the pronounced drop.

James smirked and started to follow Inés who had already started to half slide, half jump down the slope, using rocks and roots as help. When they finally got to the bottom, Inés looked around again and a small cry she run towards a dark figure crumpled on the ground. It was Alessa.

The demoness was in her natural form, and looked battered, but they couldn’t see how much until they got to her. Her cinnamon fur was tangled and dirty, dried blood matted the fur of her left leg and Daye saw with horror that it was terribly jagged, as if she had been bitten by a huge sharp-toothed mouth. She also bore several cuts and bites, probably the result of her fight with the big cat.

“Oh, Alessa, ¿qué te pasó prima? What happened to you?” whispered Inés, kneeling beside her and taking the demoness’ head gently in her hands. Inés felt her eyes fill with tears watching the sorrowful state of her cousin. She looked up to see Daye in a state of distress similar to her own. The Watcher was on her knees too, and was moving her hands over Alessa’s body, a look of concentration in her face.

“She’s alive,” she finally said, “Barely. I can help her, heal her, but not here. I don’t dare to do magic here.” Daye looked around, as if expecting fiends to materialize around them any minute. She was sure there were magical wards on the island; any magic she could perform would be surely spotted.

“Let’s go. The sooner we get her to the boat the sooner you can start the mending magic,” said Ellis, then he looked down at Alessa again, doubt in his eyes. The demoness looked too heavy to carry easily, they should try to make some kind of… he was surprised when Inés, changing again into her Verbati form, lifted the big creature with ease. He grinned. *Never underestimate a good demon.*

The party slowly climbed up the ledge again, but once they did the rest of the way was uneventful and easier than before. Following Inés’ sense of direction they moved steadily towards the shore where the boat was waiting for them. A couple of hours later they were sailing off the shore and leaving Isla Nublada behind; starkly delineated against the full-moon sky.

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Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Hola-Meg-a-Cola on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 09:30.

Tuesday, 29th May 2007 – 10:10pm

Delancre rubbed his temples tiredly. It had been a long, long day today and he was ready for nothing more than to collapse in the arms of his waiting Alessa. But he had one more task to perform tonight.

If he had been in a better mood, he might have waited until morning when it would be a more decent time in the country he was contacting. But Ambrose Delancre was far from being in a good mood at the moment, despite the scent of recent sex that still lingered on his skin. The day’s events had been too large for one hurried lovemaking session to erase.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on bringing a particular sigil to his mind’s eye. When he had it firmly fixed he opened his eyes and spoke.

“Saracens. Saracens, wake up!”

Through the link that he shared with Christophe Saracens, Delancre could feel the man waken slowly, disturbed from his slumber by the voice in his head. Delancre smiled ruefully. The man’s insistence that magic was not a factor in this world had been considerably eroded by this very real demonstration of its power. Over the past month, while he held the man’s daughter hostage, Delancre had been pushing Christophe Saracens to build the ships he had designed.

The deal they had struck was simple: Saracens would build and deliver a fleet of ships – under the supervision of Delancre’s own people, naturally – and Delancre would return his daughter Gwen, unharmed. Not surprisingly, Saracens had seen the wisdom in acquiescing to his demands, and now Delancre needed to push. Production was almost completed, but he needed those ships now.

“Wake up, damn you!”

Saracens stirred, raising his heavy eye lids. His wife was still asleep, her chest moving up and down. The aging gypsy shook his head a bit, recovering from the heavy pounding created by Delancre.

“I am awake, Monsieur Delancre, give me but a moment,” he reasoned, his voice whispering.

The gypsy king pushed away his white satin sheets, exposing his blue pinstriped pyjamas. He raised his thin frame, age seeming to catch up with him. Rubbing his temples, Saracens reached out to the glass of water on the counter, bringing it to his lips, and refreshed himself in its warm, yet cooling taste. Placing the glass down, Christophe rose from his bed, slowly walking out of the room he and his wife had shared for thirty-two years in this house in southern France. He could sense that his dog, a golden retriever, was at his heels. The man smiled.

“All right, monsieur, now you have received my full attention from my slumber, please tell me what you wish of me.”

“Ah, Saracens,” Delancre rumbled in a quieter tone, which nevertheless held an undertone that was more menacing than his shouts had been. “How many of those ships of mine are fully complete, would you say? Or, better yet… how many are not?”

Saracens felt disgust fill him from Delancre’s arrogance. This trait was infamous, according to some of the inner circles which Saracens had consulted. Christophe placed his hand over his eyes, his head raised towards the ceiling. He thought back to the reports he’d received the other day. A small smile escaped, realising most were finished.

“Maybe two or three, perhaps four, if some of my workers are particularly lazy…” Saracens informed, resting himself upon the living room couch. His dog followed him, positioning its body right on top of Saracens’ legs.

“So, at least sixteen are fully capable of being launched. Good, good.” Delancre allowed a small smile to grace his lips. At least some things were going right for him today. “Very well. I want you to despatch the completed vessels to Isla Nublada, and I want those remaining ships to be finished as soon as possible. Double the work shifts, whatever you have to do; I want those last ships ready to launch no later than twenty-four hours from now.”

Injecting a tone of warning into his voice, Delancre added, “Remember, I have my own people overseeing the work – I will be informing them separately of this new development and they will ensure that you comply. You know the stakes if you do not. Those ships that are ready are to be loaded. Five hundred units apiece. If the remaining vessels are not finished in time, then overload the ones we have. Six of my mages shall accompany each ship. You, of course, can choose which you wish to board to complete your journey. I suggest you fly down to the shipyards in Colombia this morning, Saracens.”

Christophe sighed, gently stroking the golden locks of his old dog. His brown eyes moved to the elegant grandfather clock in the room. It was a bit past 7 am. A disgruntled sigh escaped Saracens’ lips.

“I shall send ze orders myself, Monsieur,” he agreed, continually stroking the golden retriever. Saracens had no other choice in the matter; the heir, or more correctly, heirs, to his company were at stake. Without them, the future for both Saracens Co. and the Saracens family was bleak.

“Shall I be expecting you at ze ship yards?” he asked.

Delancre scoffed. “No. I have my people there to take care of business at that end. Just make sure my fleet arrives in Los Angeles in a timely manner, Mister Saracens. When my cargo is safely delivered, you shall receive your reward. If I’m feeling very generous, I may even throw in a bonus for you.”

Saracens’ temper flared. Delancre’s haughtiness beginning to get to him. The man was so arrogant every time they spoke, and it was enough to drive him insane. But he held back. Instead, he calmly began, “Monsieur, if you please…”

He cut himself short. The constant nagging of tears came to his tired eyes, but, as he had for over a month, held them back. He continued, “Monsieur Delancre, when can I see my daughter again?”

Delancre sighed heavily. The man had a one-track mind. Every time he spoke with Saracens all he wanted to know about was that miserable whelp of his. Patiently he explained the situation once more to the doddering old fool.

“She will be returned to you upon safe delivery of all my cargo. As for seeing her, I can let you view her once more if you like. Not much will have changed – she is still in the same room where you viewed her before. Last time you viewed her you could see she is being kept in the best of comfort, surrounded by the pretty things that I’m told girls like. Do you wish to view her again? I feel that it is a fair payment for the good news you have delivered me this evening.”

Slowly, within Christophe’s mind, a blurred vision of pink formed. Saracens began to smile as the blur began to mould into the familiar room where Gwen resided. The creases in the wall blossomed, as did the other trinkets lying about. And there, in the corner, was his little girl. His smile turned into a frown, as he observed her closely. She seemed… emotionless. This was not the little girl he raised. But the old man’s smile returned as he saw her slowly rubbing the growing bump on her frail frame.

He had but a minute to see his baby girl alive. As quickly as the vision came, it disintegrated away, blending Gwen into the pink nightmare that was her room. Everything became black again.

“Merci, Monsieur,” he said softly.

Pleased at the man’s deference, Delancre smiled indulgently and when he spoke his tone was much warmer. “Now, if you will excuse me, it grows late here and I have had a somewhat trying day. Good day to you, Monsieur Saracens.”

Without further ado, Delancre released the power he was channelling in to the link, and his sense of Cristophe Saracens faded. He rubbed his throbbing temples once more and massaged the back of his neck. Thoughts of Alessa flitted into his brain; the way the water had dripped from the ends of her hair earlier, and down the curves of her luscious body. He turned towards his private chambers, where he was sure she would attend willingly to his aches and pains.

His conversation with Saracens had improved his mood, at least. He realised that the blow those annoying White Hats had dealt today was nothing more than the bite of a gnat. His empire still stood, and in no more than a week he would become unstoppable. The thought bolstered his spirits, and he felt a familiar stirring. Hmm, there were other bodily needs of his that Alessa could assuage, too. His stride quickened towards the bedchamber where she awaited his arrival.

Saracens felt Delancre fade away, leaving his mind at peace. He observed the old dog, Louie, that rested upon his lap, the creature’s eyes shinning with loyalty and love. Warmth came over Christophe as he stroked his dog’s head, murmuring to his faithful pet, “It’s almost over, Louie… it’s almost over.”

robert is resurrected

Submitted by Firefly on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 14:00.

*** Wednesday, May 30, 2007, 5 am ***

*** Arcane Laboratory at Watchers’ Council LA Headquarters ***

The body of Robert Forth lay on the cold table in the sterile laboratory. A handful of men in dark robes milled around the room making preparations. They spoke in low whispers. None dared to disturb the man standing near the body. His head was down and his whole attention seemed focused on the corpse. Soon, the other men gathered around him at a discreet distance.

Lord Delancre raised his head and glanced quickly around the room. His people were in place and all the preparations were complete. Taking a deep breath, Delancre laid his hands on the still, cold body before him and nodded. Five other mages came close and mimicked his movements. Without turning to look, Delancre knew that there were six other men positioned around the room at precise points, each with a bound and gagged demon on its knees before him. Standing at the head of the room was a powerful young necromancer of his acquaintance. She began to speak in a cool, crystalline voice, invoking her power and signaling the beginning of this complicated ritual.

Delancre could feel the ebb and flow of power all around him as the magic wove in an intricate pattern, surrounding the corpse of this former Watcher. He recalled that the energies involved here were slightly different than the ones he’d experienced while performing a similar ritual to raise The Nightwalker. He supposed that was because Robert Forth was wholly human and Delancre was only a minor participant in this ritual, as opposed to leading it himself.

Robert’s body was now enveloped completely by the magic, which appeared in the form of a shroud of light. Slowly and painstakingly, the necromancer manipulated energies and invoked gods. She reached across the Veil and searched for the spirit of the dead mage. Delancre knew how difficult a task it was. He had struggled to do the same with his demon assassin. However, necromancy was not Delancre’s strength. He had caused great pain to the demon in the course of restoring him to life. It had been a hatchet job of a spell, and afterwards, Delancre had been surprised to have succeeded at all.

This time, Delancre needed to know what Robert knew. He didn’t want to risk making a mistake that would leave Robert Forth useless to him. So he’d hired a professional. The spellcasting was complicated and tedious, but there was every chance that Robert would be able to fully serve his master when they were done. And more importantly, as far as Delancre was concerned, Robert would be fully possessed of his memories at the time of his death. The only person who could tell him for sure what had transpired during Amanda’s rescue was the man lying on this cold slab. However long this took, it would surely be time well spent.

The mages in the room were focused and efficient. Just before dawn, the chanting abruptly stopped and there was utter silence. Delancre stepped closer to Robert’s body and leaned down to examine it. He was pleased to see the slow rise and fall as the man drew in breath. They had succeeded.

“Very good,” Delancre said, straightening. He turned his attention to the exhausted-looking woman at the head of the room who had thrown back her hood. She was leaning heavily on the two young male assistants she’d brought along with her. “Thank you very much, Miss Lelaine.”

The woman nodded but didn’t speak. One of the young men turned towards Delancre and spoke in her stead. “Miss Lelaine is very tired now, of course. You should know that it is crucial that no one disturb the Returned for at least twelve hours. After that time, you must still take things slowly for the first two days.”

Delancre nodded. He’d already gone over these things with Miss Lelaine before they’d begun. He knew that her assistant was just being thorough. “I understand,” Delancre said.

“Then we’ll be going now, Lord Delancre,” the young man said. He turned and with the help of his fellow, led the necromancer out of the lab. Delancre waited until they were gone before turning back to his people.

“All right,” he said briskly. “You keep a close eye on our dear friend, Mr. Forth. As soon as he awakens, I must speak with him.”

The mage standing closest to him promised Sir Ambrose that his orders would be followed. Satisfied, Delancre turned and left, headed for his quarters and some much needed rest.

Healing...

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 15:27.

Wednesday, 30th May 2007 – 9:45am – Tash’s Apartment, 1318 Poplar Avenue

Kate released a burdensome sigh as she knocked on the door of Tash’s apartment and then waited patiently for someone to answer. It had been her idea for Ryan to take Daye and the rest of her family there after Kyle and Darian had brought an enraged and infuriated Tash to her home late last night. She knew that Poplar Avenue was extensively warded and that there were enough White Hats living there to make sure that they’d all be well protected if Delancre decided to come after them.

Stifling a yawn behind the back of her hand, Kate knocked again. She had awoken early that morning to a house full of witches as her troupe from Sindell descended to begin preparations for the ritual that afternoon. Her living room was already beginning to resemble something from a Harry Potter novel with scrawled symbols on the floors and smudge sticks being burnt to cleanse the air for their magical workings, and things were sure to escalate even further by the time the ritual was ready to take place. Kate had only managed to talk to a few people so far but it seemed like they were to expect a number of new additions to those that she already knew were infected with Hyde.

As the door opened, Drew’s weary and distressed-looking face filled the entrance. “Oh it’s you…” he said with relief, smiling weakly at Kate as he stood to one side to let her in. “Thank god, come on in, I was beginning to think-”

“I’m a little late, I know,” said Kate uneasily as he led her inside. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of a chair, glancing around the apartment so that she didn’t have to look Drew in the face. “I have things to do today; the cure for Hyde… there are preparations that I had to put in place before I could get away. So…” Kate forced a weak smile to her lips as she turned to Drew, “how is she? Did she manage to sleep last night?”

“Yes, but not too well I’m afraid,” said Drew, gesturing towards the room where Amanda was sleeping, following Kate as she headed in that direction. “She slept, but not easily. I tried to soothe her but…” Drew looked away uncomfortably. “She was saying things, crazy things, I’m not really sure what they meant.”

“She’s been through a lot, Drew,” said Kate sympathetically, keeping her attention focused ahead as she walked to Daye's room. “Physically, mentally, emotionally; those kind of scars are difficult to heal.” She clasped her hands together with a sense of determination before patting the bag which was slung across her shoulder. “Which is why I’m here.”

“I got everything you asked for - it’s all waiting in her room. …Kate…” Drew looked at the woman awkwardly as she turned to face him, shoving his hands inside his pockets. He knew what Amanda had done to Kate; it amazed him that she could still continue to act so selflessly in the face of all that. She had gone out of her way to raise a force to save Amanda and risked her life in seeing that plan to fruition. Now she was going to attend to her wounds, nurse her back to health. It was more than anyone in her position should be expected to do for the woman who had so maliciously betrayed her.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said finally with a sigh, “I can never repay you enough.”

Kate shook her head as she stopped outside the door, her hand poised above the handle. “Drew, I’m a healer,” she said simply before twisting the handle and pushing the door open. “This isn’t an act of compassion, this is what I do.”

Shaking her head a second time, Kate let the door close behind her, listening to Drew’s muffled footsteps as he made his way back towards the sitting room. She sighed wearily as she turned into the room, standing quietly in the doorway. The curtains were still drawn tightly across the window, blocking out the early morning sunlight and bathing the room in dull yet peaceful shadows. Daye lay in bed with the blankets tucked high under her chin but she was far from peaceful. Her head rolled from side to side as though battling against some invisible adversary, her eyes were screwed up tightly in fear or pain or probably both while her lips moved noiselessly, occasionally mumbling something incomprehensible.

It took a great effort of will for Kate to force herself to take that initial step forward. Her feet felt rooted to the ground. She had almost convinced herself that the previous night hadn’t been as bad as she’d remembered, despite the nightmares of Sekhmet ripping apart her friends and Daye being violated by that vile little man Robert Forth. Seeing Daye laid out here, her face contorted in horror and her hair damp with perspiration, brought everything rushing upon Kate like a tidal wave.

Slowly she approached the bed, quietly picking up a chair and moving it close to the side before sitting down. Despite his platitudes it had been Drew who had entreated her last night in the aftermath of the rescue. While they waited to hear news from Kyle, Darian and Nikolai, he had made her promise him that she would take care of Daye, make sure that she was attended to. Kate really hadn’t wanted to, but Drew… she had always held a soft spot for him. She thought he was crazy, wanting to take Amanda back after all this but despite that, or maybe because of that… maybe she hoped that Drew’s deluded sense of forgiveness would somehow allow herself to gain closure on this whole affair. Whatever it was, Kate had made that promise to Drew and now she had to see it to the end.

“Well I guess I should make a start,” Kate said to nobody in particular as she unslung her bag and lay it on the side of the bed before removing three white candles and placing them at correspondent points around the room surrounding Daye. Silently she made a small waving gesture with her hand and the three columns of wax spluttered to life, their steadily growing flames shedding delicate light into the room.

Taking a cleansing breath, Kate carefully folded back the bedsheets, wincing uncomfortably at the cuts and abrasions that covered Daye’s shoulders, arms and legs. Putting aside her own discomfort, she turned to the basin of water that Drew had set out for her on the dresser along with a stack of fluffy hand towels.

Kate opened her bag again and emptied a vial of green liquid into the warm water, dipping one of the cloths into the tepid liquid and wringing out the excess. Gently, she lifted Daye’s arm, running the damp towel across her marred flesh as she washed away the ingrained layer of sweat, dirt and blood that seemed to cover Daye’s entire body. Beneath that protective layer, new wounds became visible. Dark, purple bruises and fresh cuts and lesions decorated Daye’s frail limbs like sadistic body art. Kate winced again, her touch becoming even gentler. She dipped the cloth into the bowl of lukewarm water and let it trickle across Daye’s parched skin.

Amanda murmured in her sleep as the wetness made contact with her flesh, warm and comforting. Kate’s eyes moved back to look at the woman’s face, frowning a little before returning to her task. Daye was so thin she looked practically malnourished. Her cheeks were hollow and her limbs were so frail and enervated: she seemed almost flimsy, as though she would blow away in the wind or break in two if mishandled.

Carefully, Kate took hold of Daye’s hand. Her wrist was a mess of open sores from some kind of shackle and her knuckles were scraped and bloody and Kate stroked her own fingers across those raw wounds before picking up the bowl of water and resting it on her lap. Gently she dipped Daye’s hand into the basin, cupping her own as she gathered the water and poured is across the sore skin until the contents of the bowl turned a pale red colour.

Replacing the basin on the dresser, Kate took Daye’s hand and began to dry it carefully in one of the fresh towels. Kate continued silently in her ministrations until Daye’s skin glowed dimly in the dull candlelight. She frowned a little, fingering some of the deeper wounds; they looked like they’d been attended to already, though not particularly well, probably just enough to ensure that Amanda didn’t bleed to death before Delancre extracted what he wanted from her.

Shuddering at that thought, Kate was just straightening out Daye’s nightgown when she noticed a pattern of bruises along her inner thighs. Her concerned frown increased as she pushed the soft cotton fabric to one side. Kate’s hand flew to cover her mouth and she inhaled sharply, her breath trembling and anxious. Those kinds of marks were familiar to Kate, too familiar. In a not so distant life she had spent many hours disguising similar bruises and scratches to the outside world, ashamed and disgusted with herself for allowing such things to happen.

Rolling the material back in place, Kate placed a hand low on Amanda’s abdomen and rubbed gently, kneading her fingers tentatively into those tender areas. Daye began to mewl quietly, her body tensing up in discomfort at her touch and Kate drew her hands away in shock, wiping away tears that were beginning to gather in her eyes.

*I can’t think about this now…* she thought to herself, not even trusting her own emotions enough to be able to say the words aloud.

Kate tried her best to push those thoughts from her mind as she picked up the first candle. By now the thick column had burned a hollow within the outer shell, filling itself with hot, molten wax. Kate made several weaving gestures around the candle, her hands sweeping through the burning flame as though it were no more scalding than liquefied ice cream or cold tea.

“Magic mend and candle burn,” she whispered softly, “Sickness end, well-being return.

Kate lifted the candle high, the molten wax shimmering with a soft silver glow. Carefully, Kate tipped the candle forwards, allowing the hot liquid to spill forth, dripping onto Daye’s bare flesh and pooling into her open wounds.

”Remove and banished, all suffering is vanished. By my word you see, radiant health, blessed be.”

She repeated the motion with each candle, pouring the wax upon Daye’s body. The silvery substance slowly melted into the lacerations and drew the flesh together as it did so, closing the wounds and leaving a trail of thin argent veins across Daye’s skin which eventually vanished into nothing.

Kate sat down by the bedside, exhausted and glancing at her watch. She had a little while longer before she had to return home and her magical reserves didn’t feel too worn; it would serve her well to attend to Daye a little more, at least that way she wouldn’t have to make too many return visits. Performing a cursory examination, Kate could see a few particularly nasty looking wounds that hadn’t healed properly during the spell and there were still a number of painful scratches and cuts all over Daye’s body that needed some attention.

She gathered the bedsheets in her hands and pulled them back into place, folding the edge and tucking it under Daye’s arms carefully, her fingers lingering on her abdomen.

“I suppose you think I should feel sorry for you now,” said Kate quietly, looking up into Daye’s sleeping face. “That I should forgive you for the pain you caused me… like this is somehow your punishment?” Kate shook her head morosely. This was all too much for her to bear, it felt like she couldn’t breathe any more. She turned her attention to a small yet deep cut on Daye’s upper arm and Kate held her palm across the wound, a golden glow beginning to grow beneath her fingers. Slowly the magically infused radiation soothed away the burgeoning infection, rebuilding skin tissue and knitting together muscle until the area looked as good as new. Kate sighed wearily, wiping her brow. “Maybe it is, maybe…” she frowned again, “but nobody deserves this kind of punishment.”

Daye mumbled again, rolling her head to one side so that it rested against Kate’s knee. Kate looked down at Daye’s dry and cracked lips and tear-streaked cheeks covered in swollen bruises. She picked up a glass of water from the bedside table, wetting the ends of her fingers and dripping the cool moisture upon Daye’s mouth. She sighed in her sleep, rolling her lips together and swallowing the precious liquid. Kate repeated the action several times until Daye appeared to rest more contentedly, then she took the damp cloth again and gently drew it across her forehead. Daye mumbled once more at Kate’s touch as she cooled her cheeks and throat using mercifully tender strokes.

“Why did you have to go back there?” Kate asked quietly after a while, her eyes fixed on Daye’s bruised and beaten form. “Why do you always have to try and be the big hero all the time? Would it really have been so difficult to ask for help? You stupid… selfish woman. You put us all at risk, Alessa is still in danger… why couldn’t you have just… asked for help?”

Kate took out a small jar from her bag and unscrewed the lid. Inside, it contained a thick greasy emollient that smelled strongly of lavender and camomile but Kate knew that its healing properties were much stronger than those of mere herbs. She scooped the salve onto her fingers and gently applied it to the scratches and cuts on Daye’s face and lastly to her dry and bleeding lips.

“I do care, you know. Despite everything… maybe that makes me weak, because I should hate you so much and yet, you’re my best friend. You used to be my best friend,” Kate corrected sadly. “I just…” she turned her gaze away dismally, focusing her bleary vision on the deep flagellations across Daye’s shoulders where she must have been whipped or beaten repeatedly.

“I keep remembering how you used to be, how you were there for me when Emma died… how you held me when I cried, when I was in so much pain I felt like I was going to die. How you told me everything would be okay, that you’d help me through it and then you-”

Kate inhaled deeply, trying to control the rush of emotions that flooded her suddenly, sniffling back impending tears. “When you told me… that you’d slept with Galen… I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. You went out of your way to hurt me, to tell me how weak and pathetic I was, what a failure I was, as a witch, as a wife… and a mother…” Kate looked up into Daye’s face, her lower lip trembling slightly.

“And I knew something was wrong because it wasn’t like you to be so cruel, so spiteful… so not like the Daye I know. I guess the worst thing was that I believed it, deep down inside… it felt like it was true, the things you said. I let Emma die and I let myself go over it… I felt pathetic and weak… and unattractive. I couldn’t blame Galen for turning away from me, as though any man would have been interested in me. …And then there you stood, radiant and brilliant… and beautiful…”

Kate snorted miserably. “Kind of ironic now, isn’t it?” she trailed her fingers across Daye’s cheek before wrapping her hand under her neck and rolling her over more comfortably onto the pillow. Kate’s fingers combed through the tangled and dirty length of Daye’s hair, hair that had once shone brilliantly and fallen in wild, untamed curls around the pretty face of Amanda Blaise.

“There were nights I prayed for you to feel the pain you’d caused me,” Kate admitted. “When I was alone, feeling empty and dead inside… such incredible loneliness. You have no idea how much your words haunted me, how I felt your presence taunting me, how much… how much I would have done, anything to wipe that smug expression off your face. I’m not a vengeful person but… I wanted revenge for what you did to me. I wanted it so badly maybe…” Kate looked away sadly, “Maybe I’m to blame for this, for your pain… because I willed it, because I wished for it so much… For you to know what it felt like, for you to feel what you’d done to me. But I never wanted it to be like this… I want you to know that, Daye… I would never wish this on anybody…”

Kate wiped frustrated tears from her eyes, “I don’t expect you to understand… I don’t understand myself. My Goddess, I hate you so much! I do! I can’t deny it! You took the only thing that mattered to me, the only thing I had left! You took him from me; you made me feel so… so worthless… so stupid! I hate you for that, I don’t care if it was Hyde or, or if goddamn aliens spirited you away and set you back down to wreak havoc against your will!”

Kate looked down at her hands as she twisted large handfuls of Daye’s hair between her fingers. She suddenly let go and stumbled back from her chair in horror at the absolute black malice she felt inside towards this woefully defenceless woman. How she could have happily ended her life in those fleeting seconds of bitter hatred.

“I’m sorry…” she said quickly, grabbing her things and shoving them haphazardly into her bag, retreating from Amanda slowly before suddenly turning and throwing the door open. She ran down the corridor, Drew’s head snapping upwards as she appeared, looking distressed and fraught.

“Kate?”

“I have to go,” she said hastily, grabbing her coat from the chair and pulling it on, not even bothering to fasten up the buttons.

“But-” Drew watched the woman in a daze, wondering what on earth could have happened.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Kate interrupted, heading towards the door. “Just… give her lots of fluids and try to get her to eat something… something light, not too heavy. I… I have things to do, I’ll call around tomorrow.”

The Great Mana Draining Ritual

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 15:35.

Wednesday, 30th May 2007 – 5:11pm
Kate Eldridge’s house

The final arrival was announced by the slamming of car doors as two figures exited the black Skyline in perfect unison and moved around to the back. Chastity waited by the gutter on the passenger side until Reah had made her way around the boot to join her, giving off a distinct ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe that Chastity had quickly come to discover was something of a trademark of the woman.

“Are we gonna get her out now?” Chastity looked across her shoulder to Reah who was stepping slowly onto the footpath while gazing distractedly at the house before them with something of a ‘don’t really want to be here, either’ vibe emanating off her too, now. Obviously this was yet another layer to the complicated woman that she probably wasn’t going to find out about today. If ever.

“Reah?”

“Yeah.”

Flinging the door wide open, Reah bent over, all businesslike again, and leaned in to grab her sluggish cousin who was now glaring venomously back. Or at least Reah figured it was meant to be venomous if her eyes weren’t so droopy and bloodshot.

“Could you be so kind as to stop even trying to squirm, Quinala? It’s pathetic.”

Nikolai moved towards the door quickly in slight apprehension. The emotions in the house were getting to him. Worry and a bit of apprehension... and Tash’s “pissed off” vibe was considerably strong. He was sure that she was deliberately focusing on it to make her feelings as strong as possible just to annoy him and anyone else there who was capable of reading emotions. Then there were about a dozen other witches under Kate’s direction. Really Nikolai was starting to look forward to the mana draining ritual, as it meant that he would finally be able to shut off his empathy for a short period of time, even if it would be odd to experience the silence again.

Opening the door, he could guess precisely who Quinala Kossinton was supposed to be – if Reah forcibly carrying her to the ritual didn’t give it away, the fact that she was under some rather heavy sedation would. “Reah, hi. Glad you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Reah sniffed, her eyes only bothering to give him the briefest of glances as she slipped by, readjusting the hold on her cousin and bumping past him. She didn’t have much love for a lot of these people after the past few months – but the worst part was, she couldn’t blame them. For her to just bite her tongue and swallow was one of the hardest things. So much easier to punch faces in.

From where sat in one corner of Kate’s living room, Tash glowered at the new arrivals. She’d awoken not long ago, having been kept under some sort of sedation since Darian and Kyle shanghaied her yesterday. At first she’d tried to friendly her way out of the situation, but it was soon clear that it was a futile tactic. All her weapons had been removed and Kyle stood watch over her, making sure she didn’t so much as twitch. As more and more people arrived, Tash grew more sullen – and terrified.

She was certain Kate was infected with Hyde, as was Nikolai. Either the others were likewise infected, or Kate and Nikolai had joined forces and convinced them to go along with whatever plan they were cooking up. Tash watched as Reah and Quin entered, noting Quin’s unhappy expression. It seemed she was yet another unwilling conscript in this venture. Tash’s concern deepened further, and once more she tried talking to Kyle.

“Look, all I’m asking is that you tell me what’s going on,” she said reasonably. “I mean, you kidnapped me, dragged me here, kept me drugged, and now I’m a prisoner. Does that seem like rational behaviour to you?”

Kyle’s only response was to shift his stance and shake his head at her. Tash sighed heavily in exasperation and continued her survey of the room, ready for whatever opportunity might present itself, though her chances seemed slim to say the least.

For starters, Kate had brought something like a dozen Sindell witches with her from England. The next to arrive was Darian and Cole with Dominika and Adriana, then came a large black man someone had called ‘Mike’ who was keeping close tabs on a handsome Englishman. Jeet and Darian were surrounded by the witches while Nikolai and Galen hovered around the place, and now Reah had arrived with Quin and another young girl, making it very cramped in the room. Escape would be difficult, unless everyone’s attention was diverted at some point – that was one advantage to having so many people. If she was able to slip out past Kyle’s eagle eye, it might be a while before she was missed.

Kate silently observed the new arrivals as Nikolai followed in Reah’s footsteps as the woman strode inside and dumped Quin unceremoniously upon one of the armchairs that had been pushed to the very edges of the room. Kate tried not to make eye contact with Reah, remembering quite vividly their last encounter and the unpleasant things that had been said.

She sighed as she returned her attention to the rest of the room. Her retinue from Sindell had arrived early that morning and they’d spent most of their time arranging the ritual site in her front living room – removing furniture and replicating the elaborate pattern of runes and symbols that made up the focusing circle. With the arrival of Quin, it seemed like they were almost ready to begin, with one exception.

Darian and Jeet sat almost rigidly at one side of the room as they were carefully bathed in preparation for the ritual by half a dozen attentive witches. Kate couldn’t help but smile as she joined them. Both men looked exceedingly uncomfortable, though they tried hard to hide it. Kate wasn’t sure whether it was because of the possibly risky task that lay ahead or because several women were now painting various runes across their semi-naked bodies.

Ellis watched from a distant corner at the people assembled in the living room. It was starting to feel crowded and suffocating. He shifted uncomfortably; he didn’t know most of these people, just Nikolai and Reah from the Armoury, and he had been disappointed to see that Alessa wasn’t there. Disappointed and worried; it meant Alessa would still be infected. He wondered if this Kate would perform this ritual again for her alone.

“You are paying attention, right?” he asked Mike, who was still standing next to him, as if afraid of him bolting and running away any minute. “We may need to have our mages perform this for Alessa.”

“I am. Alessa will be fine,” Mike said, trying to sound assured. He hadn’t told Ellis about Alessa’s whereabouts and didn’t want his friend thinking about those lines, and getting distracted. This had better work.

Ellis nodded and his eyes shifted to the witches working in the preparations for the ritual and idly thought that his father would love to be watching it too. They seemed to be done rubbing those poor souls; and if they were the vessels, he wondered what they would do to the infected.

“You guys okay?” Kate asked Darian and Jeet gently as she took over the preparations, the other witches disappearing to finish getting ready themselves.

“I explained what’s going to happen…” Kate spoke softly as she painted the thick black mixture across Darian’s chest, curling the end of a straight line upwards to form a loop. “This is just to mark you out as the holding vessel and protect you during the ritual. Don’t worry,” she said to Jeet’s concerned expression. “We’ve done this once before, but if this doesn’t work you won’t be in any danger.”

Wiping the last of the colouring from her fingers, Kate rose to her feet. “There, done. Ready?”

Jeet smiled up at Kate nervously. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Darian offered Jeet a reassuring smile. He was none too certain about all this himself, but Kate had been confident both he and Jeet would be safe, and looking around the room at his friends he knew he simply had to do whatever he could to make them well again. He nodded firmly to Kate.

“Yep, let’s just get on with it.”

“Get on with what?” Tash called. She tried to rise, but Kyle’s firm hand pushed her back down into her seat. Glowering at him, Tash continued to speak.

“What the hell is going on here? All of you – do you know what Kate is really planning to do? What has she told you? You know she’s been plotting against us for months now, against all the White Hats. You can’t let her do this, she’s been taken over by something evil. Reah! Come on, let’s bust our way out of here. Come on, Reah, you don’t want to be party to this. Darian, Jeet – Kate’s manipulating you- mmmppphhh.”

Tash’s struggles against Kyle’s restraint grew more frantic as he covered her mouth, effectively shutting her up. Nikolai quickly moved to join Kyle, and between them they held Tash almost immobile. She could feel Kyle’s fingers over her mouth, and managed to open her mouth just enough…

“OW! Fucking…” Kyle flinched, but slapped his hand right back over Tash’s mouth before she could do more than draw breath.

Reah merely eyed Tash over with a passive glance and shook her head. It was all too depressing.

“I need Ms. Conspiracy Theory over here guys,” directed Kate after Tash’s little tirade had been cut short.

Kyle and Nikolai hoisted Tash to her feet and pulled her into the middle of the ritual circle. At Kate’s instruction Ellis joined them, with a reluctant glance towards Mike while Reah took hold of a rather unsteady Quin and brought her into the middle with everyone else. Tash began to rant and rave again as Kyle let go his hold, returning to his position on the periphery though he maintained a ready stance in case Tash should need subduing again. However, as Tash got an arm loose from Nikolai, Ellis jumped in to wrestle her back down again and between them both they kept the woman rooted to the spot.

Dominika looked at Adriana, who had given her nothing but attitude since they arrived, and grabbed her arm. With much effort, Dom dragged her sister to where the other “infected” people were placed, saying aloud, “Adriana, don’t be a bitch. Just stand here and be a good girl.”

The gypsy squinted her eyes at her sister. “Fuck that! You think I’m just gonna willingly go along after I saw Tash get the shit kicked out of her?” she roared back, pulling away.

Dom sighed. Her eyes then moved to a picture frame on a nearby end table, of the married couple who owned the house. Slowly, her hand wrapped around the elegant frame and grasped it tightly. Her hand moved swiftly, as the frame crashed against Adriana’s head. Dropping the shattered frame, Dominika allowed Adriana’s body to fall into her arms. Steadily, Dom dragged Drea’s motionless body towards the others. Looking at Kate, she glanced back at the frame and back at her.

“Sorry about t’e frame,” she apologized, smiling a little.

Kate shrugged as Dominika handed her the shattered remnants of the wedding photo. “Sometimes things get broken,” she mumbled, laying it to one side as everyone began to get into position.

At Kate’s nod, Gerald walked over to the windows and began to close the curtains. The heavy fabric blocked out the sunlight, plunging the room into momentary darkness until Inanna began to light the candles that marked out the ritual space. The flickering flames cast an eerie glow across the faces of the thirteen witches as they took place around the circle, their long black robes trailing around their feet. The remaining members of the group stood back, not wanting to get too close but also filled with a sort of morbid curiosity as to what was about to happen.

Tash bucked and squirmed. Nikolai knelt at her head, holding her shoulders firmly to the floor, and while at other times Tash might welcome a handsome man sitting on her waist, the fact that Ellis was keeping her legs locked in place pissed her off no end. Despite the lack of information, from what had been said and from what she’d gleaned from the thoughts of those in the room who were less well-shielded than others, she’d worked out the purpose behind the ritual preparations.

“Nooo!” she yelled. “No, don’t do this. I’m not infected with Hyde, Kate is! Kate has Hyde. Kate and Nikolai. They’re evil. It’s a virus, it turns people evil. Don’t let them do this! Reah, Darian, Jeet, help me. Whatever she’s about to do, she’ll do it to you, too. She’ll make slaves of us all!”

Nikolai slowly shook his head, looking around at the group. It was true that he had it, but they knew damn well that Kate didn’t from the tests. Without even realising what he’d done, the heavy blackjack appeared in his hand, delivering a hard thwak to the back of Tash’s head. Steadying her head as it lolled, he looked around the room at several of the shocked looks.

“Well someone had to stop her screaming,” he said sheepishly. “She should be fine in a bit, though.”

“Thank god!”

Reah’s eyes snapped on Chastity and her sudden outburst.

“C’mon. I was just sayin’ what everyone else was thinking’!”

Reah looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. She had to hand it to her. The girl wasn’t half bad! And for someone so estranged to the mystical monster world, she certainly found no troubles in adjusting. Reah almost had to wonder just how many drugs she’d taken in life.

Ellis smiled in spite of himself as he rose from the now unconscious woman, and he shared an amused look with the Russian. He had wanted to shut her up himself, but he hadn’t dared. He didn’t know all these people to guess at their reactions. Besides, it was Tash. After all Alessa had told him about the woman, he felt she deserved it.

Kate felt a sting at Tash’s words; it was proof that she had known about Hyde all along and though she had suspected as much after hearing about Pelor, it didn’t change the fact that Tash had known that her friends were ill and had done nothing to help them. She couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Koyla laid her out cold; at least now they wouldn’t have to listen to her demented accusations.

One by one, the witches all stretched out their arms towards the next, their fingers almost touching though not quite as they bridged the divide. With Tash silenced, a temporary quiet filled the room as the witches all began to draw power into their circle. The effect was slow at first but gradually picked up pace and Kate inhaled sharply as a strong wisp of magical energies floated into the room like a cool breeze on a hot day. The sensation took her by surprise; it had been a long time since she had experienced such focused and intense magic and the feeling was incredibly powerful.

As the strength of the magics intensified, a rippling surge of energy connected the circle of witches, linking them with dazzling light jumping between their outstretched hands like bolts of lightning. In unison they began to chant, their voices combining into an unearthly melody that filled the quiet room.

“Atua wairua, whakarongona mätou,
Horoi ö toto, ö mätotoru
Rauhï ö koiora hau
Hoki tukua te nei kino
Tukua te nei kino.”

Darian felt energised as Kate’s spell wove through him and around him, linking him to those in the centre of the circle. He could feel Tash, Adriana and Quin’s life threads, behind a screen of something that pulsed with a dark malevolence. He turned momentarily to Jeet, and could tell that Jeet was experiencing something similar with Ellis and Nikolai.

The eerie chanting continued, and with each passing moment Darian and Jeet felt their connections to their respective hosts growing stronger. To Jeet it seemed as though Ellis was trying to keep a part of himself connected to the dark, ugly thing inside him, but slowly the magic Kate and others were weaving separated Ellis’ essence away from that of Hyde. Jeet knew the moment Hyde was no longer joined to Ellis, and could feel the energy that the virus tried to consume instead making its way through the unnatural shadow and into Jeet’s own body.

Nikolai’s essence was already transferring along a separate conduit, and Jeet could feel the twin streams of mana swirling within the confines that had been created within him. Kate had assured him that holding the essence of Ellis and Nikolai for several days would be perfectly safe, that it wouldn’t mix with his own. But as he continued to fill with the energy he wondered, and hoped Kate was right.

Jeet’s eyes caught Darian’s, and the fae grinned back at him. Darian had felt Tash and Adriana’s mana begin almost immediately, since there was no conscious will tying itself to the virus. Darian was especially grateful now that Nikolai had knocked Tash out – with the woman’s insistence that she was uninfected, Darian worried that if she’d been conscious the link may not have worked properly. Quin was fighting the process a little, but Reah had apparently drugged the girl, and her resistance was minimal. With three streams of mana filling the prepared places inside him, Darian found his breathing quickening. The sensation was akin to drinking a strong wine, he thought.

From his distanced position across the room, Galen watched the Sindell witches work their magic. At first he thought he was imagining it, but as he strained his eyes through the dull candlelight he would have sworn that he could actually see something in the air, like tiny particles of light glittering in the darkness. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, yet they combined together to create a trail of vapour that wrapped itself around the infected quintet and then seemed to link itself to Jeet and Darian also.

As the chanting grew louder and more frantically paced, a dark smoke-like substance seemed to emanate from the mouths and nostrils of the five people all huddled together in the middle of the circle, curling and swirling like a living entity. It seemed to try to latch on to the vapour trail, trying to follow the flow of mana as it was steadily drained out of its host.

Suddenly the chanting stopped and the entity retreated back into the hosts. Kate opened her eyes slowly, glancing around the circle as they gradually dispersed the bonds of energy between them, letting the borrowed power slowly ebb away. As the power in the room returned to normal, all were still, observing the group that still crowded together on the floor, trying to determine whether the spell had worked.

Adriana’s eyes began to flutter. The faint golden glow of candles was blurred in her vision, as were the other figures. She began to lift her head, only to begin to feel the pounding on the back of her head. A groan escaped her lips.

*I’m gonna kill you, Dom…*

Slowly, she pushed herself from the ground, allowing her body to rest on her knees. As she held her head, a new sort of pounding entered, but not that of a head ache. It seemed to be… memories. Vivid flashbacks to March came into vision. Before her, her temper towards Dominika played out, as well as her flirtation with Brody. The haunting memory of her rendezvous with the Russian mobster and the cold break up with Darian flashed before her, sending chills down her spine.

It was already too much. She saw, to her disgust, how she had treated everyone around her. Horribly and cruelly. By the time they had ended, Adriana was hunched over, her face buried in her hands, and sobbing quietly, “Oh God, oh God…”

Darian regarded his ex-girlfriend quietly as she sobbed on the floor. Despite the number of people in the room, it was almost completely quiet but for Adriana. Ellis and Nikolai were lost in their own private hells of regret, while Quin was staring dazedly around her and Tash was just barely beginning to stir. Of the other participants, none seemed ready to move towards the group of five in the centre of the circle just yet, although all eyes were on them.

Darian took a tentative step forward. He could still feel the links between himself and the three women, but they had faded to the background, nothing more than a pressure he could only feel if he stopped to think about it. Adriana continued to sob softly, but Darian couldn’t help but think of the bitter, hateful words she’d spat at him when she’d broken up with him. “God, you’re such a little bitch. All you do is complain! Get over yourself!”

Still, he knew she’d not been herself when she’d said those words, and he couldn’t bear to see her in such distress now. Moving closer, he knelt beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Drea? Drea, it’ll be all right, I promise.”

Adriana looked up, her eyes red and streams of black stained her face. Tears still poured from her as she moved away, digging back into her hands. *Why is he doing this? After all I did to him, why is he comforting me?*

“No, Darian,” she began, wiping her eyes, only to start over again. “Don’t pretend like you care. You don’t have to.” She didn’t want to hurt him. But after all she had done, she could barely look at him. “I know what I did to you, know what I’ve said… You have every right to hate me.”

Darian swallowed. “No, I don’t hate you. I…” He broke off and looked around at those still gathered around the edges of the room, then cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “I think maybe we need to have a long talk soon, but for now please just believe me. If I can forgive Cole some of the things he did, I’m sure I can forgive you for anything you may have done.”

He wrapped an arm around Drea’s shoulder and rocked her gently as her cries slowly lessened.

A murmuring slowly filled the room as people began to relax a little, but an awkward stillness descended once more as Tash groaned and put her hand to her head before struggling to a sitting position.

She blinked her eyes for a moment, grateful for the quiet darkness that filled the room and eased her pounding head. For a second she thought she was completely alone, then she noticed shapes in the dim room. Wondering why she hadn’t sensed anyone there, she looked up sharply, and moaned again as her sore head objected.

The shape she saw resolved itself into the familiar form of Kate, and Tash was surprised at the totally impenetrable shield the witch had managed to throw up around herself. Not so much as the mere hint of a presence or the glimmer of an aura showed to Tash’s senses. Then Tash frowned. She recalled quite clearly what had happened before someone – Nikolai, she thought – had knocked her out, and she forced herself to alertness as she noticed how many others were still in this room with her.

“Kate, what did you…? Did you do something? You had the virus, the virus that… oh no.” Tash felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh no… no… It was me, wasn’t it? Oh hell… What have I done?” Her voice held all the horror of the things she’d said and done – and planned – over the past three months.

Kate knelt beside Tash, her eyes searching the woman carefully as she became more aware of her surroundings and much, much more. Seeing Tash so confused and disoriented took Kate back to the previous night when she had seen Daye all beaten and broken and barely a shadow of the woman she had once been. Kate inhaled and then sighed, resting her hand on Tash’s shoulder.

“You’ll be okay,” she said detachedly. “You must have been infected for quite a while but… you’ll be okay. You’ll feel strange for the next few days. We had to drain your mana, your powers…”

Kate glanced at Darian, focusing her sympathetic powers on him and Jeet. She could faintly detect the remains of the mystical mana draining valve that still connected the infected to the two men and would do until Hyde eventually starved to death. “But they’ll return once the virus has died, just like before. You’re gonna be okay, Tash.”

“But everything I’ve done to you. Said… And to everyone. Alessa, Daye… Oh God!”

Tash sat bolt upright, swivelling her head to take in everyone there. Reah was beside Quin, holding the slight girl in her arms while Cole looked on wistfully, and Mike was talking quietly with Ellis while Galen consoled Nikolai. Darian had taken Adriana to a corner and the two sat huddled together. The witches from Sindell had retreated in a group, presumably to the next room. It was disconcerting to know there were so many people in the house and not be able to sense a single one of them. Tash took it all in with a moment’s glance, remembering the wrongs she’d done to each person. But she had other things to worry about first.

Turning back to Kate she said urgently, “Kate, it’s Daye! Delancre has her. And Alessa’s at the mansion, too. But Daye… she’s in the cells, he’s been torturing her. Oh God, and I wanted to…”

Catching herself, Tash pressed on. Full confession could come later. “We have to get her out. Delancre wants Maia, and if he gets her then we’re all fucked. We have to stop him. Oh God, she’s been in there for ages.” Tash felt the tears welling in her eyes but ignored them. “And I didn’t do a damn thing, not a damn thing.”

“Shhhh, shhhhh,” hushed Kate gently, holding Tash down. Kate could feel a whole range of emotions running through the woman: fear, panic, horror… but mostly guilt. She could only imagine what kind of things Tash had been party to under Delancre’s influence and encouragement.

“Tash, I know,” said Kate quietly but firmly, brushing away the sickening feeling she felt in the pit of her stomach. “Daye is… well, she’ll be all right in a few days. We got to her just in time before-” Kate bit her lower lip tentatively, not wanting to think what else could have happened to the woman if they hadn’t come to her rescue when they did.

“When Kyle and Darian broke into the Watcher’s mansion to get you, it was part of a diversion so that Ryan and… myself, so that we could rescue Amanda. She’s in a bad way, but she’ll get better. As for Alessa…” Kate looked deep into Tash’s eyes. It felt good to look at her and know that this was the real Tash despite everything that had happened between them. “Alessa knows all about Delancre, and though I don’t agree with her decision she thinks it’s for the best if she remains playing the part of his…” Kate looked uncomfortable, tipping her head to one side, “…well, you know.”

Kate sighed wearily, squeezing Tash’s shoulder in an attempt to offer the woman some comfort. “We’re planning an attack anyway so none of that will matter but we can talk about that later. Right now you’re tired and weak and you need to rest.”

Tash looked up at Kate, relief in her voice. “You got Daye out? Thank God…” With all the turmoil in her mind, Tash was having trouble thinking straight, but one factor leapt out at her. That dark cloud of Death was most certainly Marcus’ work, which meant that Kate – or Nightwalker – must know Marcus. Tash just hoped they hadn’t had to pay too high a price for the necromancer’s assistance. The memory of the screaming from the mansion made her shudder, and once more she looked at the woman who she hoped to still call friend.

“Kate, I’m so sorry for everything I did and said to you. I know it’s not enough, that I can never undo any of it, but for what it’s worth I wish I could go back and change it all. You’re one of my closest friends…”

For a moment Tash let herself be comforted by Kate’s hug, but her thoughts were still whirling. There was so much she had to tell them about what was really going on inside the mansion. She pulled back and wiped her face dry. “You said you’re planning an attack? Good… we need to stop him. And there’s a lot I have to tell you. I can help, if you’ll let me.”

Kate nodded. She was in no doubt that Tash had much to tell but right now wasn’t the time. The reserves from the Watchers’ Council would arrive in the next few days and make contact with the ‘Ghosts’ Will had mentioned. Hopefully by then Hyde would have been completely purged from her friend’s system and then they could start talking strategy. Even so, a few days seemed like an age away – too long – but there was little else that could be done.

Glancing around the room, Kate turned her attention back to Tash. “We’re going to need everyone’s help to stop Delancre, and there’s a lot I have to tell you too. But right now, you rest, you get stronger… then we’ll talk.”

Tash nodded, swallowing. Without her abilities she had no way of telling what Kate was feeling, beneath those businesslike words. Tash could only hope there was something left to salvage of their friendship.

“Sure, rest sounds good.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 15:47.

Wednesday, 30th May 2007 – 8:04pm
Kate Eldridge’s House

Kate glanced at her watch with a sense of relief as she heard the front door close, signalling that the last of her ‘guests’ had finally departed. Even though the ritual had ended several hours ago it had taken a while to ‘tie up the loose ends’, so to speak: closing the circle, giving thanks to the gods - not to mention replacing the contents of her living room. Kate sighed wearily as she stood at the stove stirring a pan of soup with thoughtful contemplation before pouring some of the thick broth into a bowl.

Kate set up a few other things on a tray before carrying the light repast towards the library. Tash had refused the offer of a bed, but Kate had been insistent that she get some rest before they talk again. Eventually she had convinced the woman to take some time to herself in the library – there was a more than comfortable sofa in there and Kate hoped that Tash had made use of it and at least had a little sleep in her absence. Pausing outside the door, Kate listened carefully for any signs of life before quietly pushing the door open and walking inside.

Lying on her back on the sofa, Tash snored lightly. She’d sat down in the dark room simply to rest for a minute and let the pounding in her head subside, and sleep had swiftly overtaken her. Now she stirred and mumbled, one hand coming up as though to shield her face from some unseen assailant. The slight movement in the room disturbed her and she blinked her eyes in the dim light from a single lamp that was glowing in the corner of the room.

“Who’s there?” she asked sharply, sitting up quickly before letting her breath out and relaxing a little. “Oh, it’s you, Kate. I didn’t sens- Oh, no. Of course not.”

Memory flooded back as her brain awoke, and Tash recalled Kate’s explanation of what they’d done to her – and why. She sat up fully and watched as Kate placed a tray of food on the table near the sofa.

“Thanks, Kate. I’m feeling much better now. But there’s an awful lot I need to tell you. Have you eaten already? You can stay and I’ll talk while I eat, if you like. What time is it, anyway?”

Kate smiled at the influx of questions as Tash took the bowl of soup between her hands, blowing on a spoonful of the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip.

“It’s just after eight,” she said, switching on another table lamp before sitting down on the sofa next to Tash, watching the woman as she ate. Kate suppressed a sigh as she waited awkwardly; she could hardly believe the transformation in her friend. Only a few hours ago she had been little more than a violent, ranting savage, delusional and spitting poison. Now she was calm and subdued, even compassionate. Even though deep inside Kate knew that Hyde was responsible for the erratic behaviour of her friends it was still a shock to see the extent to which it had distorted their personalities.

“I’m sorry,” said Kate suddenly, unable to look Tash in the face. “I let you down, you and the others. I should have known something was wrong sooner… I didn’t even notice. I just thought-” Kate fiddled with her hands, turning her gaze into her lap. “I don’t know… I just thought the worst. I’m so sorry.”

Pausing with the spoon halfway to her mouth, Tash stared at her friend in disbelief. “You’re sorry? Good god, Kate, whatever for?”

Soup splashed over Tash’s shirt as she dropped the spoon back in the bowl and took Kate’s hands in her own, not speaking until Kate lifted her eyes to meet her own. “Kate, you have nothing to apologise for. It’s me who… gods, woman! You’d only just lost your baby and all your friends started acting like prize assholes. And I know what else you were going thr…” Tash looked down for a moment. She remembered all too clearly sharing a great deal of laughter with Daye over this one, when they’d both been at the mansion and before Daye’s cure. The memory made her ache inside.

“I know about Galen, too, Kate,” she whispered hoarsely. “It was hardly a time when you could be expected to consider that we’d all contracted some bizarre disease. You let nobody down. I mean, look at all this.” Tash waved a hand around vaguely, encompassing the house. “You cured us all, Kate. It’s me who needs to apologise. I used you, I used everybody. It was… even with that damn virus, I can’t believe how… how cold I was.”

Kate felt a sting at Tash’s words. She had never told anyone about Galen and Daye so she knew it must be the latter who had filled Tash in on the more pertinent details. She felt sick at that thought, of the two of them laughing and finding sport in her husband’s weakness and her own misery even though she knew that it was the virus that had made them act so cruelly. Kate grimaced uncomfortably, loosening a hand from Tash’s hold as she reached for the napkin she had placed on the tray, handing it to the woman.

“You have soup on your shirt,” she said uneasily, rising to her feet and pacing a little before turning back to Tash. “We shouldn’t talk about this. There are other things… more important…”

Tash felt the loss of her abilities keenly. If only she had a hint, a clue as to what Kate was feeling exactly. Was she simply trying to push away a painful memory? Or did Kate now harbour a deep resentment against her that would forever colour their relationship from now on? Having always had her psychic senses to give her these clues, Tash had never developed the skill at reading body language that most people did and she felt at a total loss.

“I’m sorry.” Tash had a feeling she’d be using those words a lot in the days to come. She ignored the stain on her shirt and dropped the napkin back on the table. “If you don’t want to talk about it all, I understand… but if a wannabe tinpot dictator is more important than how I’ve hurt you, then the whole damn world must have gone crazy.”

She kept her eyes on Kate, who stood uncomfortably in the middle of the library. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking or feeling at the moment, but if I were in your shoes I’d be mad as hell. Here you are, sitting with someone’s who’s plotted against you, who’s used Emma’s death against you, who’s been a thoroughly cold and calculating bitch, who’s planned to steal Delancre’s army and set herself up as dictator in his place…”

Tash could see Kate’s eyes widen at that revelation, but she pressed on to her point. “You feel like you shouldn’t blame me for it because ‘I was sick’. ‘I had a virus.’ ‘It wasn’t really my fault.’ Well, maybe not, but that still doesn’t lessen any of the pain I’ve caused you. Be mad, Kate. Blame me, yell at me. … But I’m back now, and I want to help, and I still feel like I’m your friend.” Tash swallowed. “I hope I still am…”

“I didn’t know what was happening,” confessed Kate after a long, uncomfortable silence had passed. “I thought the whole world was going mad, and I needed you all so much…” Kate breathed in deeply, holding back her tears and sitting down before her legs gave way. “I never felt so alone in all my life.”

Kate held her head in her hands, still unwilling to look at Tash. They had been such good friends and she didn’t want all that to change, but things had changed and Kate wasn’t sure whether that would turn out to be a good thing or not.

“When I found out about Hyde,” she said with a low sigh, “that there was the possibility that there was an actual reason for all of this, I told myself, convinced myself, that everything that had happened didn’t matter.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Kate finally looked up at her friend. “But you did hurt me,” she admitted, “and Amanda…” Kate laughed uneasily, throwing her hands up in the air. “Well you obviously know what Amanda did. I don’t know how to deal with any of that. You were my friends and yet you did these terrible, cruel things, and if I can’t blame the virus for it then I can’t make any sense of why any of this happened.”

“It happened,” Tash said quietly into the stillness, her voice bitter, “because one man thought he could set himself up as a god. We were all his pawns. Every shitty thing that those of us with Hyde did is because one man wanted to control us. And it worked beautifully. It set all of us against each other, divided us. Now he’s on the brink of achieving his goals, but we’ll do what we always do. We’ll band together and try to stop him.”

All the hurt and bitterness and guilt welled up inside Tash until she thought her heart would break with the weight of it. Her body started to shake with dry, racking sobs that refused to stay bottled up any longer.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I never even tried to stop myself from doing any of it. It all just felt so, so normal.” Tash looked up at Kate with a tear-streaked face. “I wish I could take it all back.”

Kate’s expression softened as she beheld the distraught woman. It didn’t seem like such a long time since Tash had sat in her living room on the day after Emma had died, holding her in her arms and telling her everything would be okay. Kate had been immensely comforted by Tash’s strength, in feeling her solidity anchoring her into the real world, keeping her sane. Warmed by those memories of friendship, Kate found herself wrapping her arms around Tash and holding her in a close embrace as the woman continued to sob, her body trembling against Kate’s as painful tears poured down her cheeks.

“I know you do,” she whispered softly, cradling Tash’s head against her shoulder like a child. Kate closed her eyes momentarily as she felt Tash’s genuine guilt and sorrow flood into her. She realised that she would never know what Tash had been through: having her most basic impulses manipulated, to feel that she was in control of her actions when in reality the truth had been the opposite. Kate had done some stupid and blameworthy things in the past months, but even though the consequences had brought misery and pain into her life at least her decisions had been her own.

“We’ll be okay,” promised Kate gently, rocking Tash in her arms comfortingly. “We can get through this, I know we can. I’m not prepared to lose any more of the people I care about…” Kate pulled back a little, looking into Tash’s watery eyes. “And that includes you.”

Taking solace in Kate’s embrace and kind words, Tash did her best to smile but the effort fell far short. “Thank you, Kate,” she said warmly. “For everything. For fighting for us when we didn’t deserve it, for finding the cure. Gods, do you know I knew the cure for this disease six weeks ago? And I-”

Tash’s face blanched. She swallowed and looked down at the floor. When she looked back up at Kate she spoke in a tightly controlled voice. “And I killed the person who told me of it. He was a demon friend of Alessa’s, and he’d helped her escape from the island back in March. I killed him, Kate, in cold blood, simply because I didn’t want to risk anyone else finding out about the cure.”

She shook her head slowly. “I have so much to apologise for, but how do I apologise to him?”

A confused frown spread across Kate’s forehead as she listened to Tash’s confession. She remembered Darian’s and Oz’s hasty phone call when she was still in England; they had relayed the tale of a demon called Pelor and how he had travelled all the way from Isla Nublada after Tash had failed to kill him. He’d been the one to provide the information about Hyde that had enabled her to complete the draining spell. Kate could only assumed that this was the person Tash was talking about, unless she’d killed some other poor soul also.

“Do you mean Pelor?” she asked uncertainly, pursing her lips together at the puzzled expression that suddenly appeared on her friend’s face – it was all the confirmation she needed that her guess had been correct. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but he survived whatever you-” Kate paused, feeling sick in her stomach at the mere thought of Tash committing such a brutal act. “He made it to Los Angeles somehow. I don’t think I would have been able to do any of this without his help…”

“He… he’s not dead? Oh, thank god,” Tash sighed in relief. It didn’t lessen the enormity of what she’d done – she’d fully intended to murder Pelor – but she felt a tremendous weight lift from her at the thought that he was not only alive, but well enough to have travelled to LA. The wrong she’d done him was horrific, but maybe now she could find some way to atone for it. “And I’m glad he helped with the cure – it’s kind of ironic, really. He may never have got out of that cell otherwise.”

Tash gave a short half-laugh that quickly faded again. In her mind’s eye all she could see was Pelor’s still form as he lay bleeding on the floor of that cell block, and the feeling of triumph it had given her at the time. Now all she felt was revulsion at herself.

She looked up at Kate again, straightening in her seat with resolve on her features as she fought past all the self-recrimination. “You’re right, Kate. We do have other things to discuss than how bad I feel about what I’ve done. I have to deal with all of that, but I also have to tell you about Delancre. You’ve found out a lot, I’m sure, but maybe not all of it.”

“Tash, wait-” said Kate quickly, suddenly realising her error. She could feel Tash’s relief, even happiness that she was not to blame for Pelor’s death. Kate didn’t want to rob her friend of that feeling but it just didn’t seem fair to let her go on in ignorance.

“About Pelor…” she said gently, reaching out and taking Tash’s hand, “I’m afraid…” Kate shook her head remorsefully. “I’m sorry Tash, but he’s dead. Delancre sent one of his assassins… I don’t really know anything apart from that. I just, I thought you had a right to know.”

For a moment Tash stared at her friend in blank incomprehension, then her face crumpled and her newly acquired resolve evaporated. “Assassin? Delancre?”

Tash closed her eyes and hot tears splashed onto the hands she held clasped in her lap. When she reopened them they held all the anger and bitterness she felt towards that man. She set her jaw and tried to stop the shaking that set her whole body trembling.

“Then we shall avenge him,” she said hoarsely.

Kate nodded, feeling ever so slightly guilty for causing her friend’s tears. She could have just let Tash go on believing that Pelor was safe, that there was some hope that she could make amends to the demon she had tried to murder. But the truth would have come out eventually, it was the one thing that nobody could be protected from.

“We will,” she reassured Tash, hoping to cool the vengeful rage she saw in her eyes, “and everyone else that man has managed to harm.” *Ourselves included,* thought Kate as she inhaled uncomfortably. Despite the healing Sindell had performed after her own brush with death, Kate still felt a cold pain reside just below her heart at the site where she had been stabbed.

“Unfortunately we have to be patient. It will take a few days before the Hyde virus is completely purged from your system and I’m not even thinking of taking Delancre on until we’re more organised. That's where you come in.” Kate held Tash's gaze steadily, hoping that if she gave her friend something specific to focus her anger towards it would help her in the days to come. “You know more about what kind of resources Delancre has up his sleeve than anyone else; we need your help to make sure that we’re properly prepared when we do make a move.”

Tash breathed in deeply a few times, pushing her hurt, guilt, self-loathing and anger to one side as she focused on the task at hand. She had a job to do, as always, and as she had with Victor’s death she found that concentrating on work numbed her to her more painful feelings.

“I can tell you what the situation was like before I was taken, but how much that changed after Mar- … afterwards, I can’t say for sure.” Clearing her throat, Tash considered where to begin. She had to reveal all that she knew, even the parts she found personally unpleasant, such as…

“Firstly, Delancre has – or had – something of the order of two hundred living troops at the mansion, and one hundred and four zombies. Delancre believes he has full control over the undead soldiers, but I can take that away from him any time we choose. He has several mages, and he’s a highly accomplished sorcerer himself. As for his plans, originally I thought he was merely trying to set himself up as a ruler. You know, the usual megalomaniac dream of having everyone under your sway.” Tash swallowed; it was a dream she’d held as well, until yesterday. For a moment she wondered why the virus had woken such a desire, but she knew she couldn’t waste time now pondering her psyche’s deeper workings.

“Anyway, when I was at the island I found out he had bigger plans. He wants to use Maia to make himself essentially a god. He’s been manipulating Daye for years, and Nightwalker. We have to keep Maia safe from him – but if you’ve rescued Daye already, I’m sure she’s already talked about that part. I…” Tash paused before continuing.

“Did he hurt her badly? He had her for such a long time… and all I could think about was how I had to make sure she stayed quiet. She knew too much about me, and could put me in danger with Delancre, you see. So I… I kept trying to get to her, to kill her. Kate, I wanted to kill Daye!”

Tash placed a hand over her mouth and stopped the sobs before they started. Kate had moved closer again, but Tash made reassuring signs. “It’s okay. I know what you’ll say. It was the virus again. But still… I don’t know – maybe if it had come to actually doing it, could I have gone through with it? I don’t know, I couldn’t get to her.”

In that moment Kate was glad that Tash couldn’t read her thoughts or sense her feelings. How she felt towards Daye was something that she was having a hard time coming to terms with. There had been a time when she would have very much liked to see her ‘friend’ in pain, suffering at the hands of her own personal tormentor. But now… Kate didn’t feel the same anger she once had but there was still something there, something dark and resentful, and Kate wasn’t sure if it would ever go away.

She held in a weary sigh; it was good news about the zombies at any rate. If Tash could take over control of them then that was more ammunition with which to fight Delancre. “Actually, Amanda wasn’t really in any shape to say anything when we rescued her. But Ryan… Nightwalker told me about Delancre’s plans for Maia. He’s been staying here ever since he escaped the compound and I fully intend on keeping her well out of his reach.”

Not really wanting to dwell on the subject of Daye, Kate decided to push on. “Was there anything else? You said you’d been to Isla Nublada? Why did he take you there?”

It was good news about Nightwalker, at least. That he was in this house unnerved Tash slightly, though. She’d done him as much hurt as anyone, really, but didn’t have the comfort of past friendship to help repair their relationship. She just hoped she could mend that fence. But Kate’s question rang in her ears and she knew she had to answer.

“He took me in April because he believed I was to be trusted. I daresay he knew I had Hyde, and he was testing me. I… I took him a sample of Alice’s DNA, so he could use her genetics in his army,” Tash admitted.

She glanced down. “I’m not at all proud of most of what I did there. I used people, I created zombies, I plotted to take Delancre’s place, and even tried to kill my friends. Hell, I am responsible for Pelor’s death – he’d still be in his cell if not for me. We could have rescued him when we clean out the island.”

Turning her face away from Kate, Tash took a moment to compose herself again, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. “Alessa’s at the mansion, too. She has Hyde as well, but she doesn’t seem too badly affected by it for some reason. She was patient zero, actually. Delancre sent her back to us to infect the White Hats. Anyway, she’s half-pretending to be Delancre’s consort. She says she’s trying to find out what he’s up to. Of course, I already knew, but I wasn’t going to tell her, was I? It might spoil my plans to take over the world. Damn! It’s all so stupid!”

Controlling her sudden anger at herself for her weakness, Tash breathed deeply. “Sorry. Sorry, Kate. I just… I’m so mad at myself for being so stupid, for behaving like that. We have to get Alessa out of there. I have the formula for a cure, or you can do the ritual again, but we have to get her safe. If Delancre ever finds out she’s not genuine…”

“You’re right,” nodded Kate in agreement. “Knowing what we do now there’s no reason for Alessa to keep up her pretence.” She shook her head in dismay. “I should never have let her go back there in the first place, it was too dangerous and after what happened to Amanda… but you know Alessa, there was no stopping her once she got the idea into her head.”

Kate sighed, curling her lower lip thoughtfully. “Koyla should be able to get a message to her and as for the virus, that shouldn't be such a problem. Apparently the Verbati are a particularly resilient race, their immune systems are far more developed than ours. It’s Alessa’s demon side that’s stopping Hyde from taking control of her. She mentioned something about… primal form. If she takes her primal form then it should eradicate Hyde from her system. The only reason she hasn’t done it so far was because the virus made… certain things easier for her to do.”

“Like sharing a bed with that, that-” Tash made a face. Then she mused, “Both Daye and Alessa... I seem to have skipped that aspect of Hyde…”

Her voice trailed off as she remembered her recent nights of passion with Onyx. *Was that just because of Hyde? No, surely not.* Thinking about Onyx for a moment, Tash felt a familiar stirring and half-smiled in relief. Still, she would have to go visit Onyx soon and test that theory. If their relationship turned out to be nothing more than lust brought on by the virus, Tash would have to let Onyx down gently – she didn’t want to hurt her. After all, Onyx was the innocent party in the situation if that were the case. And if she still felt the same way, well…

Looking up with a start, Tash wiped the secretive smile that had formed on her face. “Sorry, I was off with the fairies for a minute there… but it does remind me of something. You and Nightwalker went to rescue Daye, you said, right?”

“Huh? Oh… yes, that’s right,” said Kate quickly, blushing as she tried her hardest to push aside the sudden influx of erotic feelings that had emanated off Tash like a tidal wave. She tried her best not to intrude past her own barriers, realising that Hyde had removed all of Tash’s usual psychic precautions. At the same time she couldn’t help but secretly wonder who had inspired such feelings in Tash; she hadn’t been aware of any ‘special someone’ in her friend’s life, Kate wasn’t even sure that Tash had completely come to terms with losing Victor.

Oblivious to Kate’s preoccupation, Tash pursued her train of thought. “But I was there, at the mansion, during it. And you’ll never guess what popped out of the woodwork… You know, hiring a necromancer is one thing, but letting him summon something like that – it’s not your usual style. Even for our enemies, that was a horrible way to go.” Tash shuddered, remembering the soul-rending cries of those attacked by the Ibilisi.

Kate shook her head, feeling rigid at Tash’s words. She still felt sick from the events of that night, angry too though she had tried to rationalise, rationalise like hell. If Marcus hadn’t done what he had they might be dead now, but at what price had their safety been procured?

“Yes, well… we all can make mistakes,” she mumbled uncomfortably, “and that hell demon wasn’t part of the plan…” *My plan, anyway.* “The last thing I wanted was for Darian and Kyle, or you, to get hurt. If I’d known I would never have asked-“ Kate pursed her lips together with an air of finality. “Well what’s done is done, it can’t be changed.”

Tash backed down. “Well, okay, if you didn’t know… I… Well, I have another confession to make.”

Laughing hollowly, she added, “There’ll be an endless supply of confessions for a while yet, probably. But I have been working with Marcus myself – he helped me with the first batch of zombies. And my payment was knowledge. He asked me to help him to control such a manifestation, but he didn’t tell me why. At the time I wanted to take part in the ceremony with him, but I had no idea… Kate, even with Hyde in me, with the desire for power driving me, I was afraid of it. I could protect myself from it, but it was so strong, so… primal.”

Sighing heavily, Tash turned her head away for a moment. “You know, I think that’s what it was… the hook Hyde had in me. I hate being scared, and I’m scared almost all the time. Yeah, I know I don’t look like it most times, but I am. And if I became the thing to be scared of, then maybe I could relax. I think that was what was driving me.”

Kate nodded, trying to make sense of everything Tash was saying. She’d half suspected that Marcus had been the one to help Tash raise her zombie army; it was the only thing that made sense. She didn’t have the magical capability for such a feat and Marcus HAD been putting himself about in the community of late. The dead didn’t just raise themselves after all.

“You’re not the only one with confessions, Tash,” said Kate hollowly, feeling that inner darkness that she had tried so hard to bury open up a little. “I don’t usually consort with necromancers but… I had a specific purpose also.” Kate could almost see the realisation dawn upon Tash as she hung her head ashamedly. “Tash I… I tried to bring Emma back… that’s how I know Marcus Dalton. He helped me, I paid him to help me. I know it was wrong… very wrong, but at the time it was the only way I could think of to try and get back some of what I’d lost." Kate frowned, “I was so lonely and… I just missed her SO much…”

“… Oh. Oh, Kate.” Tash held out her hand and twined her fingers through Kate’s. “And of course, none of us were here to offer support… Oh, Kate, how awful. Did…?”

Tash swallowed. There was no sign of Emma about, and having spent so much time lately dealing with the world of the undead she was well aware of the risks involved in such a venture. It was more than likely that Kate had succeeded – but brought back something that was an unspeakable horror, a parody of her little girl. Although Tash wasn’t sure what she could do apart from offer a shoulder to cry on should that be necessary, the desire to help Kate even at this late stage mixed with morbid curiosity, pushing her to ask, “Did you… get her..?”

Kate shook her head numbly, looking down at the hand that Tash held. Even now, several months later, Kate felt a deep aching at the loss she had felt as Marcus had ended the ritual, severing the link and ripping all trace of Emma from her, sending her eternal spirit back across the Great Divide.

She sighed, closing her eyes; “I felt her soul Tash… it was beautiful, so pure, so untainted. I was close but,” she shook her head again. “It was… for the best.”

Pulling Kate closer, it was now Tash’s turn to do the holding while Kate sniffed on her shoulder, though there were no tears. Tash found it eerie to be right next to someone who was so distressed and not feel anything. There was nothing at all, not even a sense of Kate’s presence. Except for the warmth of her body, it was like holding a corpse. Making a face at herself for her analogy, Tash concentrated on soothing Kate, rubbing her shoulder in slow circles.

“At least you got to touch her spirit again, if only for a second. You can remember her that way now, forever. It was a precious gift.”

Kate closed her eyes again while Tash tried her best to comfort her, too little too late. It felt strange to be so close again – the last time Kate had met Tash the woman had been cold and hostile, before that cruel and hard. Now she was Tash again, whatever that was. Kate just wished she could have been there when she needed her, when her world had been falling apart, when she had been so alone that she’d almost…

Pulling back from their embrace, Kate dried her eyes, rising to her feet with a sense of determination. “No good comes from dwelling on the past,” she said frigidly, “and we have important things to take care of, things that we CAN do something about.”

Once more unsure whether Kate’s coldness was directed at her, or was simply a defence mechanism against getting into territory that was too personal and painful, Tash could do nothing but nod tightly.

“Of course. Everyone may need a day or two to settle down after the cure. It’s a rough transition, I have to tell you. But after that, we need to make plans. The sooner the better. And I guess I should get home, get some proper sleep. Um… do you have any idea how long it’ll be before I’m, you know, back to normal?” Tash held up her gloved hands and wiggled the fingers.

“I can’t sense a damn thing, I feel like I’m blind.” Frowning at her hands for a moment, she decided to experiment. Slowly she peeled off one of the gloves and placed her hand gingerly against the back of the sofa on which she sat.

“Oh, my God! It’s just… couch!”

Kate managed a half laugh without enthusiasm at Tash’s sudden discovery. “Believe me, I know what it’s like to be blind, but you’ll adjust. It should only take a few days before Hyde is starved to death, after that…” Kate shrugged a little, “I’m not sure. The mana should return steadily, as will your abilities, but it could take some time. There’s no way of knowing exactly how long, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’ll just have to take it as it comes. This has its compensations, though,” Tash remarked, as she let her fingertips glide across the soft material, feeling the texture against her skin. “I’ve not felt anything for so long… whenever I touched anything with bare hands the visions were always so strong I never noticed the physical sensation.”

Almost guiltily, she looked back up at Kate as though she were a child who’d been found with her hand in the cookie jar. “Right, more important things to think about, I know. It’s just…” She gazed at her hand, watching it as it crossed a seam and she felt the change in texture. “Wow.”

Pulling off her other glove, Tash shoved them both in the waistband of her pants and rose to her feet. “Well, I should get going. I think I might need a good, long sleep tonight. Tomorrow… tomorrow we should see who we can get together and begin planning where to go from here.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 15:56.

Wednesday, 30th May 2007 – 10:15pm
1318 Poplar Avenue, Apt 301

The sound of a key turning in the lock had Drew on his feet in an instant, leaving Daye where she lay sleeping fitfully in the spare bedroom, and heading towards the door to Tash’s penthouse apartment. Drew had known that sooner or later Tash would come home and just hoped that with everything else that was going on Kate had remembered to warn Tash of Daye’s presence beforehand.

Bracing for a confrontation, he was relieved to see Tash simply open the door and nod briefly. “Hi, Drew. Kate told me someone would be here.”

She threw her keys on the kitchen table, her gloves following right after, and went straight to the fridge where she gathered together ice, limes and tequila. Grabbing the salt from the cupboard, she began preparations for a stiff margarita. Kate had almost forgotten to tell her about where they’d placed Daye, grabbing Tash’s arm at the last minute before she left to claim the taxi she’d rung.

“Oh, Tash. I’m sorry, it almost went right out of my head. Um, I hope you don’t mind, but Daye… She was pretty badly hurt and we needed to keep her someplace safe and we knew Poplar Avenue is well protected. And, well, there wasn’t much space with Darian or Reah or anyone, and we knew you were going to be here last night, and… I hope you don’t mind.”

No, of course she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind one bit. In fact, it was a small comfort to know that Daye was safe and that – albeit without knowing – Tash had already begun making amends. She knew that with Daye especially, she had a lot to atone for, even if Daye didn’t know it yet. *But I will tell her – as soon as she’s well enough.*

She looked up to see Drew watching her intently and she blinked at the half-made margarita before her. “Oh, sorry. Did you want one?”

“No, no thanks. Uh, are you sure it’s okay that we’re here? Daye’s not in your bed, we put her in the spare room. Sam and I have been looking after her in shifts and…”

Tash moved around the edge of the counter and guided Drew to a chair as he began to sob quietly. “It’s okay, Drew,” she hushed, “It’s been a tough time – for all of us, one way or another. But we’ll get there.”

“But she’s so hurt, Tash. She’s…”

For several long minutes Tash simply sat beside Drew and rocked him as his pent-up emotions of the past months found an outlet. She felt as though she could join him so easily – her own tears lay just behind the surface, ready to boil forth. Instead she murmured soothing words and rubbed his back and rocked him, falling back into the role of steady rock as though she’d never left it, as though Hyde hadn’t scarred her. But she knew better.

“I’m sorry, Tash. I know it’s going to work out all right.” Drew sat up straighter, wiping the wetness from his face. A smile ventured onto his features. “She’ll get better, and we’ll go back to our lives. We can forget all of this. I mean, it was the virus that made her do all that stuff, wasn’t it? It wasn’t really her, so we’ll just put it behind us and get on with things.”

Tash worked hard to keep her face impassive. She knew just how much of what she’d done had been of her own choosing. Hyde may have made it easier to ignore the morality of the decisions she’d made, and had removed any concept of guilt, but the plans she’d been making had been all her own. It meant that the things Daye had done… somewhere, deep inside her, she’d wanted to do them. Tash had a feeling that Daye wasn’t about to forget quite as quickly as Drew thought, but it wasn’t her place to burst his bubble. Besides, she was still feeling pretty unsettled herself.

So she put on a smile and nodded. “I’m sure it’ll work out somehow, Drew. So, uh, is there anything you need in there to make it more comfortable? I can get more bedding if you need it, or-”

“No, no, it’s fine, Tash. Actually… Kate said there was a spare apartment downstairs. We thought an empty one might be better. Quieter, you see. But we only had the key Kate got from you after, well, after they’d knocked you out. We didn’t want to break in or anything, and thought this would be okay temporarily. Until you got back, that is. So… is it all right if we use that other apartment? Kate said you were sort of… attached to it.”

They wanted to put Daye in her apartment. Hers and Victor’s. In the bed they’d shared together. The apartment she’d kept locked up ever since her return from G’rnatha.

“Sure,” she said as brightly as she could muster. “I’ll open it up and get it aired out. When do you want to move her? Tomorrow?”

“Well… tonight might be best, since you’re back. You won’t want us underfoot all the time…”

“I don’t mind, really.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But if we could do it tonight…”

Knowing she was facing a determined opponent, Tash gave in with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll help you move her. But first I’ll dash down and unlock it, open up the windows for some fresh air, that sort of thing.”

After a few minutes, a far more tranquil Tash returned to her current apartment. Seeing the reminders of Victor’s presence had brought back fond memories of happier times, and without the temptation to relive those moments through her visions she’d found herself relaxing as she passed through the rooms. It had smelled a little musty, having been closed up for so long, but now the windows were all open down there and she’d put fresh sheets on the bed. All in all, it hadn’t taken her long to prepare it for Daye’s convalescence.

She nodded to Drew, and he led the way to the room where Daye still slept. Although she’d prepared herself for the worst, Tash still hesitated a moment in the doorway at her first glimpse of Daye.

“Oh, Drew…”

Tight lipped, Drew merely nodded and moved towards the woman he loved. “Baby? We’re going to take you downstairs, okay? It’s going to be all right, sweetie.”

Daye didn’t respond and Drew whispered over his shoulder, “We gave her something to help her sleep. Seems to be working all right, at least.”

For a long moment Tash could barely drag her eyes from the sight of her friend. Dry, cracked lips stood out in sharp relief in a pale, gaunt face that sported some nasty, jagged cuts. Purpling bruises mottled the skin of her face and of the arm that lay on the cover. A white bandage wrapped around her wrist stood out in stark contrast to the black and purple skin surrounding it, puffy fingers peeking from the edges. Trying to find something more useful to do than staring, Tash cast around for a means of transporting Daye without hurting her.

“Hmm, handy,” she commented as she found a gurney stationed in the corner of the room and wheeled it beside the bed.

“Yeah, we used that to get her up here. Three flights make for a lot of stairs.”

Daye murmured and moaned as Drew and Tash carefully used the sheet Daye was lying on to transfer her to the stretcher. They rolled her gently to the hallway and then hefted the trolley between them, keeping it as level as possible as they gingerly descended to the second floor.

Before long they had her ensconced in Tash’s old bed, and Drew was preparing to change the dressings on Daye’s wrists. Having seen only Daye’s face and arms, Tash didn’t want to imagine what horrors might lie in wait beneath that sheet. Anger filled her, and remorse so strong it almost choked her. Daye had been in those cells for so long, while Tash wandered about freely on the grounds. She’d already told herself a dozen times that she’d tried to reach Daye – albeit for nefarious purposes – and had failed. But deep in her heart she knew that if she’d been herself she’d have moved heaven and earth to rescue her friend. *As Kate did…*

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said,” Drew repeated with infinite patience, “that I’m okay to take it from here. You look like you really could use some rest yourself, and there’s nothing much to do here except watch over her.”

“Well… are you sure you wouldn’t like me to keep you company for a while? It can get pretty daunting when you’re looking after someone with nobody else there to help out.”

Drew glanced over his shoulder at Daye’s room, then turned back to Tash. “No, really, I think I’d like the time alone for a while. Besides, Ryan’s just gone out for supplies and will be back soon and Sam’s coming over with Maia in the morning… It’ll be nice to have a minute to myself before the chaos.”

Smiling wryly, Tash nodded. Truth be told, she’d be happy to simply curl up in her own bed and let sleep claim her. Maybe in the morning she’d feel a lot better about everything… *Yeah, and maybe I’ll sprout wings overnight,* she thought with a sigh.

“Okay, then. Well… good night, Drew.”

“Night.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Logan on Thu, 08/26/2004 - 21:42.

***Thursday, 31st May 2007 – 11:23am – The Laughing Dogs Diner***

Inanna glanced around the restaurant as a waiter dropped a pile of dirty plates on the floor with a loud crash. Somewhere a noisy dog started barking and the supervisor came running out of the kitchen, shouting in Spanish at the poor waiter and the man who had brought a dog into the restaurant in the first place.

She chuckled to herself as she turned her attention back to Blake who sat opposite her, wolfing down a plate full of bacon and eggs. She had left Los Angeles behind two years ago and yet nothing seemed to have changed. The people were still loud and brash, everything still moved at an incredible pace and you could still get a full breakfast for under five dollars.

“You think he’s going to show up?” asked Blake as he emptied his coffee cup for the third time, gesturing to a passing waitress for a refill.

Inanna regarded Blake with a casual eye; it wasn’t fair how he could still look like an entry from Mr Universe after eating such junk. “I’ll bet you lunch at Chez Leon that he does,” she said with a smile. Many of their colleagues from Sindell had been particularly impressed with the young Mr Matthews; it was why they had asked to meet up with him this morning. Inanna glanced at her watch, rolling the sleeve of her sweater back into place. “He’ll be here.”

Not ten seconds later, the young teen they had been discussing walked into the restaurant, his demeanour obviously nervous, even bordering on scared. He was here to meet with a representative from Sindell. Although the average teen wouldn’t be excited to meet these two seemingly ordinary people, to Cole it was the equivalent to having breakfast with a rock star.

*Oh man, I wonder what they want with me?* he questioned, scanning the restaurant for the witches. Really, he had no clue why they had asked him to meet them. Sure, he had helped with bringing down the wards, but for Sindell sorcerers it surely wasn’t a impressive task. *Or maybe they heard about earlier this month,* he frowned, thinking back to the enormous amounts of black magic he had used. Maybe they had invited him to scold him, and punish him for dabbling in things he shouldn’t have. *Oh no, I hadn’t thought of that…*

The boy didn’t have any longer to think about the ‘whys’ as his gaze finally landed on a pretty, young-looking woman and a man who seemed he could be from the WWE. *Oh man.* Taking a deep breath and rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he made his way over.

“Good morning Ms. Fairchild,” he finally managed to squeak out nervously.

“Hey, Cole!” said Inanna cheerfully, scooting over the bench so that the young boy could sit down with them. “Ugh, please don’t call me Ms. Fairchild like that, my name’s Inanna… but you can call me Anna, everyone does. Blame Sindell, they like to give us orphans fancy names.” She smiled at her companion, noting how nervous he seemed. “This here is Blake, Blake Westmoore. I don’t know if you remember him from the other night; at any rate you probably didn’t get a chance to be properly introduced. He’s a member of Sindell’s Warriors’ Circle… can I order you anything? Coffee? Something to eat? This might take a while…”

“I’ll just have a coffee thanks,” the boy replied politely, as he and Blake exchanged a handshake. *I doubt he needs to use his magic at all when fighting,* he thought, noting the warrior’s extremely firm handshake.

“Part of the Warriors’ Circle? That sounds really exciting, Mr. Westmoore; you must have a ton of amazing stories.” Cole began to flush as he cursed himself internally: not five seconds in and already he was acting like a star-struck fan-boy.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, kid,” smiled Blake, thanking the waitress as she filled his cup and brought a fresh one for Cole.

“Or maybe you would,” interrupted Inanna. “I’m not going to lie to you Cole, we asked to meet with you today because Sindell is particularly interested in your talents. They tend to keep an eye on those considered to be of a certain magical aptitude, especially those outside the system, so to speak. Have you ever had any official training in the Craft?”

“Well when I was younger, my mom showed me a bit, but she passed away shortly after. Since then I’ve just pretty much taught myself. Well, except for…” he paused abruptly, biting back his tongue, wishing he could turn back time so he could not vocalise that last thought. He couldn’t be sure, but the boy highly doubted that Sindell witches would approve of the time he spent under Daye’s tutelage.

“Except for what?” Blake asked, rather intrigued by the boy’s story.

Cole began to shift uncomfortably in his seat as he looked from Blake to Anna. “Well I don’t know if Kate told you guys at all, but I was one of the first people infected with the Hyde Virus,” he said quietly, his tone filled with pain and regret. “Amanda Blaise and I formed somewhat of a student-teacher relationship for about a month.”

“Until? Come on kid, don’t be shy,” the muscle-bound witch coaxed.

“Until I,” Cole took a deep breath, as he began to fidget with the paper napkin in front of him, “until I used a Seal of Lasarna to steal hers, and others’, magic and try and kill Kate.”

Blake looked surprised, glancing at Inanna who seemed strangely unperturbed.

“Kate did mention something,” she said after a moment’s silence had passed. “Actually she explained quite a bit… I don’t know about your trying to kill Kate but you’re lucky she didn’t do the same to you. You’ve seen her in ‘battle mode’, right Blake? Scary stuff.”

“I’ll say. You must have balls kid, stolen magic or not.”

“It was a really bad time for me, and I’m just really thankful Kate saved me. Otherwise…” he let the sentence drop, not wanting to think what could have happened. “And it’s been hard since then; using magic, I mean. There’s that constant tugging at the back of my mind, the darkness.” Cole looked up, realising he was dragging the conversation into a rather gloomy area. “But I’ve got some really great friends who are helping me through it all,” he finished, trying to muster a slight smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, Cole,” said Inanna with a reassuring smile, “we’re not here to judge you. Far from it.”

“The Craft is a peculiar mistress,” Blake interrupted. “There are very few of us who haven’t at least been tempted by the lure of the dark arts. Mostly just harmless experimentation you understand, but everyone has to learn their limits.”

“Sindell is a lot more broadminded that you might think,” continued Inanna, sliding in her seat so that she could face the boy properly. “We understand how alluring magic can be, especially to those without any formal instruction. I was lucky enough to be indoctrinated into their teachings at a young age; it has helped me to understand the Craft in ways that I never imagined possible. People on the outside, they can’t comprehend the opportunities that are opened up to a young witch just starting out on their path, and this is a perilous path we walk, Cole. You know that more than most.”

A mental “phew,” passed through the boy’s mind, as the two witches seemed to easily disregard his rather shady past. “It’s really nice of you guys to be so understanding, but I’ve got to admit, I’m not really sure why you guys invited me here,” he said, breaking the silence that had descended on the three.

“Well… like I said, Sindell is particularly interested in your talents,” said Inanna, sharing glances with Blake as she spoke, “and I know I can speak for a number of my colleagues when I say that we were very impressed with how you handled yourself the other night at the ritual.”

“To cut to the chase, Sindell would like to offer you a place at the Academy.” Blake smiled warmly at the young boy’s startled expression. “Obviously, you’re well acquainted with the Craft already and there would be certain examinations that you would have to take in order to assess your magical proficiency level…” he turned to Inanna with a grin. “What do you think? An MPL 7?”

“Oh at least a seven,” agreed Inanna, her smile broadening some, “maybe even an eight.”

“Join Sindell?” Cole sat speechless, his jaw open in total shock. It was the offer of a lifetime. Learning the Craft in one of the word’s best institutions, being taught by some of the most powerful witches, having access to the best resources: it was a dream come true. Yet, despite all that, the boy was hesitant. “It’s such an honour, but I don’t know. I mean what about my life here, my friends? I know this may sound stupid, but for the first time, I finally met people that treat me like family and I don’t know if I can give that up.”

“You shouldn’t think of this in terms of what you’re giving up, Cole,” said Inanna seriously, “more… in terms of what you’ll be gaining. Your life here will still be waiting for you, and so will your friends. Joining the coven isn’t a life sentence but it does offer the kind of training and opportunities that you just can’t find anywhere else.”

Inanna placed her hand over Cole’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Outsiders will never understand the gift that you possess. At Sindell we’re all the same. There’s no fear, no judgement, just acceptance. You said you’ve been finding it difficult using your powers again after what happened to you. Well, Sindell can show you how to control that fear, how to rid it from your heart. You never need to feel afraid of magic again; that’s what you want, isn’t it Cole?”

Blake slowly nodded in agreement, sensing that the boy was beginning to open himself up more to the idea. “You fought against the Brotherhood didn’t you?” At Cole’s tentative nod he continued, “I imagine that with that kind of experience in the field you could make apprentice to the Warriors’ Circle in less than three months. You’d get to see the whole world; Sindell has affiliates all across the globe.”

Cole glanced down into his untouched coffee as the two continued to fill his head with the wonders and possibilities that would be laid at his feet if he took them up on their offer. But there was only one thing in his mind, Anna’s words… magic without fear… He wanted to believe that he could feel that way again. Maybe it was possible, and if Blake was speaking the truth then he could be part of the Warriors’ Circle too. Then perhaps Sindell would show him how to become the kind of man that Chance would have been proud of.

“I can see you’re going to need some time to think this over,” said Inanna, retracting her hand as she removed her wallet from her jacket pocket and dropped some money onto the table for the breakfast they’d had. She gestured towards Blake and the two of them shuffled out of the booth.

“Kate knows where we’re staying if you want to talk some more. Or you could always talk to Kate; she knows Sindell better than most people.” Inanna smiled and patted the troubled looking boy on the back. “Don’t look so worried, we don’t need a decision right away. Take your time and get back to us.”

Marcus visits Daye after the rescue

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 00:40.

*** Thursday, May 31, 2007, 1 pm ***
*** Poplar Avenue ***

1318 Poplar Avenue in Alhambra had once been the beating heart of the White Hats, a group of dedicated heroes brought together by their shared desire to overcome the forces of evil. Wherever those special people may have made their homes, they all felt a connection to the modest brownstone. It was here that Victor and Tash had met, here they had lived and loved, here the dream of the White Hats had been born. For the last few months those who lived at 1318 Poplar, and those who visited it often, had become caught up in things that took them away from the building, and ultimately from their purpose. Now, it seemed only fitting that it was here, in this place where it had all started, that they come together to regroup.

Daye had been considering the implications of such things as she lay in the small bed in Tash’s apartment, resting and healing after her ordeal at the Council house. She was still very weak and very tired. Her body still sported the bruises and cuts inflicted on her by Delancre with his own cruel hands. Sometimes, when she wasn't focusing on something else, she would remember how it had felt to have him invading her mind, stealing her memories and knowledge. Sometimes she wanted to hide under the covers and pretend she was somewhere else, anywhere else. Kate had been in each day to check on her, but Daye could feel the distance between them caused by her terrible betrayal.

Of course, Drew was there for her. He'd taken a leave of absence from the University. He wanted no one else to care for her. Daye felt both grateful and ashamed as he lavished her with his love and attention.

Others had stopped in, to check on her, or perhaps to see for themselves if she really was back to "normal".

Not that Daye felt normal now. She wasn't sure she ever would. Despite the fact that she had acted under the influence of the virus, Daye could remember every heinous act she'd committed. She had done those terrible things, and she was ultimately responsible for them. At times, she didn't know how she would ever be able to feel like herself again. At other times, when Maia was with her, or when she spoke to Drew, she felt that if she just tried a little harder she should be able to get past this.

Marcus stood outside of 1318 Poplar Avenue and tried to remind himself just what he was doing there. He had come to see how Daye was, but really, considering how they’d parted after the weekend at Aspen, he wondered how wise an idea that would be.

On top of that he was sure she’d see his agreement with Drew as extortion on his part. No doubt she’d find the methods he’d used during the rescue as distasteful as Kate did, too. Especially if Daye found out just what his last spell had cost. All in all there were numerous reasons why coming here was a bad idea and in the face of those, concern for her seemed a little tenuous.

“There’s always Tash, too…” Onyx said from by his side. “Whether she’ll stand by her bargain now that the virus is no longer colouring her responses.”

Marcus repressed a smirk. Onyx had, he was sure, other reasons for wondering about Tash. “I think we’ll refrain from reminding these people about my mercenary ways for a little while yet.”

There was something deeply ironic about the fact that the people he had met since coming to L.A., whether they were members of Russian organised crime, witches, or merely the head of a charitable foundation, had turned out to be members of an altruistic organisation so deeply at odds with his own worldview.

Marcus shook his head. ”No, we’re here purely to look in on Daye’s recovery. The rest, I think, can be left for another day.”

Having rung previously Marcus knew in which apartment Daye was recuperating. He selected the appropriate intercom button and waited. The small camera set behind its grill whirled for a second.

“Yes?” Marcus didn’t recognise the voice, even accounting for the intercom’s distortion.

“I’m Marcus Dalton. I’m here to see Amanda Blaise.”

“Oh… Oh yes, of course. Um, come on up.” The door in front of Marcus clicked open.

Marcus walked inside and shivered.

“Strong wards,” Onyx said rather redundantly.

“I noticed. You know it’s such a shame I can’t just pay them any more…” Marcus wondered just why the only capable people in L.A. wouldn’t work for money. It was downright infuriating.

Suppressing his irritation, Marcus headed up the stairs and knocked on the door to Daye’s temporary apartment.

Samuel Aubrey checked once on Maia, who was sound asleep in the portable crib they'd brought from the house. She had adapted remarkably well to all the changes, taking it in stride that she'd have to be away from her room and her home for a while. She'd actually been happy, once she'd seen Mommy brought through the door by Ryan. Sam was having a tough time getting the little girl to leave Amanda alone to rest. Thankfully, he'd taken her to the park that morning and worn her out enough that she'd undoubtedly be asleep for quite a while.

Sam looked up at the knock on the door and moved to open it. Marcus Dalton had been instrumental in rescuing Amanda from that terrible house in the hills. Sam didn't know exactly what the man had done, but he did know that Kate was pretty put out about it. Sam also knew, despite the fact that the necromancer had to be paid for his assistance, that Mr. Dalton had been one of the many lovers his sister had taken while under the influence of the Hyde virus. Given all that, Sam was at a loss as to why Marcus had shown up here today. Thankfully, Drew and Ryan were both elsewhere. They'd gone to the house to pick up some essentials, and then Drew was going to make a stop at the grocery store to pick up some things.

Sam opened the door. "Hello, Mr. Dalton," he said. "Please, come in."

Sam stepped aside to allow the man to enter the apartment. He then noticed that Marcus was not alone. A very beautiful dark haired woman had been standing in the hall as well. Sam didn't know what to make of her, and before he could think to ask both of them had entered the apartment. Sam shut the door behind them.

Marcus’ eyes darted round the room for a second. Whoever had decorated the place, it wasn’t Amanda; in either of her incarnations. His gaze then returned to the man in front of him.

Marcus offered a hand and took a guess. “You’d be Sam?”

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, uh, sorry." He took Marcus' hand and shook it briefly. He shifted uncomfortably and a strained silence settled on the room. The only sound for a few moments was the soft whuffling coming from the portable crib where Maia slept.

The tension wasn’t totally unbearable but Marcus realised he’d let the silence linger too long. “How is she? Amanda, I mean.”

Sam shrugged. "She's still, uh, really... She's been trying to rest," he said. "Her body is healing. Kate helped a lot with that. I, I don't know, uh, how she's gonna, uh, be... with everything else, I mean. She's real... quiet."

Sam's expression was suddenly bleak. "Daye was never quiet before. I-it's not right."

“No, she wasn’t quiet.” Amanda hadn’t hid herself behind silence, not when she was infected nor after Onyx had cured her. “Is she up to visitors? I’d like to see her.”

Sam nodded. Maybe Marcus would be good for Daye.

"Sure, just down that hallway, on the right. She's supposed to be sleeping, but I doubt she is. Go ahead. I have to stay here and keep an eye on Maia."

Sam inclined his head towards the crib. He glanced at the silent woman standing beside Marcus. "Do you... is your... uhm..."

Sam had no idea what to make of her.

“Forgive me. Sam, this is my assistant, Onyx. She’ll-”

“I’ll look in on Tash.”

“No business,” Marcus admonished.

“Purely personal,” the demon replied with a smile.

“Very well. Sam, could you-”

“I can find my own way.” Tash’s aura was easily detectable to Onyx.

“Of course.” Marcus looked to Sam who seemed bewildered by the quickfire conversation that had just taken place. “Down the hall and on the right, yes?” Marcus asked as Onyx moved to the door and left.

Marcus smiled at Sam’s silent nod and moved down the hallway to the indicated door. He knocked softly. “Amanda?”

Daye looked up from the book she had been studying. Sam wouldn't knock, unless he was afraid that she wasn't decent. And since she barely had the strength to get up and use the bathroom, that seemed unlikely. Drew wouldn't knock either. Which meant she was about to endure another visit from an uncomfortable friend. Daye sighed.

“Come in," she called reluctantly. *I really wish I could bury my head in this comforter until whoever it is goes away.*

She knew that was out of the question when Marcus entered the room and stood still studying her for a moment.

“God, you look awful.” Marcus’ tone was blunt, but there was an underlying touch of humour. He didn’t know what had happened to her when she had been caught, though if the state they had found her in was any indication it had been awful. He just hoped his tone conveyed the right message. That she didn’t have to hide the lingering pain and humiliation. That he would listen and not judge.

Daye glanced up at Marcus. His blunt assessment made her smile. Here, at least, was someone who didn't seem to feel the need to tiptoe around her. She felt herself relax by degrees as he came into the room and shut the door.

"And you look... perfect, as usual," Daye said, her mouth twisting in a sardonic smile. "Is it possible you could at least muss your hair or something?" she asked mournfully. "You make me feel inadequate."

Marcus grabbed a chair and pulled it towards the bed. “Well, you see, a Dalton has certain standards to maintain. Standards lesser souls like yourself can’t hope to match.” He sat down and shrugged. “Plus, I have Onyx.”

"You know what they say. Behind every great man there's a great woman... demon... whatever." Daye laughed, the sound surprising her. She hadn't felt like laughing, or relaxing, for so long. Everyone else she'd seen had left her feeling lost and guilty. It felt good to be able to talk to someone who honestly seemed bear her no resentment. *Not that he isn't entitled to some,* Daye thought, her thoughts turning serious and a frown marring her face. *After the things we said to each other before I left; after what he thought I meant; after he turned out to be right all along.*

"I, I'm glad you're here," Daye said seriously, reaching out to lightly touch Marcus' hand. "I didn't think you'd come to see me. I honestly didn't think you'd want to."

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” Marcus ducked his head a little then shook himself and looked at Amanda again. “We didn’t part on the best of terms.”

Daye nodded. "No, I was very... ungrateful... and I think perhaps I gave you the wrong impression," she said. Daye took firm hold of Marcus' hand, trying to catch his gaze. "I need you to understand what I meant."

“You don’t need to explain,” Marcus replied quietly. Yes, he’d been angry at Daye’s implication, but it had hurt only because it was true. It wasn’t as if he’d not had other women virtually throw themselves at him before. He’d not taken advantage then, why then had he with Daye? *Because I find her desirable, and what does that say about my ‘self control’?*

"No," Daye replied. She pretended there was no sudden heat at the touch of his hand. "I want to explain."

Daye paused. Her mind flashed for a moment to the strange dreams she'd had of him while in Delancre's clutches.

"I, I don't regret meeting you," she said softly. "What happened between us - I know if I'd been in my right mind, I never would have done some of the things I did, but I still don't regret it. I think you're a remarkable man, Marcus Dalton. I do, very much, want to be your friend. When I was first cured I was so distraught, so full of guilt over my actions, my lack of control; but even then, I wasn't lumping you in with all the others. There's something... different about you. I never meant for you to think that I was somehow tainted from our... association. That's not what I meant at all. I realize that's how you took it though. I, I'm very sorry for that. I consider you a friend. I try very hard not to hurt my friends."

*Oh yes, remarkable, and yes, I’m sure we’ll be friends till Kate explains that I fed five souls to the Great Divide itself so we could rescue you.* ”We seem to keep having this conversation,” Marcus said with a smile while unnoticed his thumb rubbed circles across her hand. “I guess we’ll need to keep having it till it sinks in, and I warn you I’m not exactly flavour of the month with some of your other friends. Kate especially.”

"I'm not sure I can count Kate as a friend myself," Daye replied. She was all too aware of Marcus stroking her hand. She forcefully ignored the little shivers of awareness coursing through her body from his innocent touch.

"Not that I blame her," Daye added honestly. "She's been more than generous, helping me and all. I certainly don't deserve her support, considering all I've done."

Daye lapsed into silence. It was like this all the time now. Whenever she started to think about things, the heavy weight of shame and guilt settled upon her. She knew that Sam and Drew were worried, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She felt so cut off from the life she'd once had, and she was afraid she'd never find a way back to herself.

“Hey…” Marcus reached out and brought her gaze back to him. “You’ll get through this. It’ll take some time, but they’ll forgive you, even Kate. That’s what friends do, isn’t it? Forgive each other.” Marcus withdrew his hands and let his tone become a little more serious. “But they aren’t the only ones who need to forgive you.

“All that guilt you’re feeling? You have to let it go. Not all at once. No one can do that, but a little at a time every day. Don’t think you can’t be happy. You can.” Marcus looked down at Daye’s hand where even now her engagement ring was absent.

Daye wanted desperately to believe what Marcus said, but she couldn't ignore her own doubts. The only people who'd welcomed her back with unreserved forgiveness were Maia and Drew. Even Sam seemed hesitant and uncomfortable.

"I... In my head, I know that," she said softly. "I know that I can't keep thinking about it, that I can't keep berating myself, but in my heart, most of the time, I still feel trapped and lost. It's so hard, being here. Sometimes I feel like, like there's pressure, you know... to just go back to who I was before, how I was before. The problem is, it's not that simple. I can't unlearn the things I've learned or undo the things I've done, as much as I might want to.

"When I told you I was going back to the mansion, you tried to show me, but I was too angry and confused to see it," Daye continued. "I'm very weak. That's why this has all happened. Hyde preyed on that weakness. I'm not who I thought I was. That virus, it enabled me to do terrible things by, basically, removing my conscience, but everything I did, that was all my own choice. I picked my own particular brand of nasty. The virus didn't do that. I, I've always been careful; of people; of magic; of myself. While I was under the influence of the virus, for the first time in my life, I took without concern for the consequences and I let loose, because somewhere inside of me, I've wanted to for a very long time.”

Daye stopped speaking abruptly, a look of shock on her face. Until she'd said it aloud to Marcus, she'd never really acknowledged that fact before. All her life she'd had to be responsible for one reason or another. Hyde had freed her, briefly, from the weight of her responsibilities. She didn't want to be the person she had been during her illness, but neither could she go back to the person she had been before.

*Hyde? The virus.* Marcus didn’t reply for a while but by his manner he was obviously thinking about how to do so. Eventually, he spoke.

“You know I think everyone wants that. No rules, no responsibilities - just take what you want and damn the consequences. Even I’d like to be free. I’m not saying everyone has the same burden or even that theirs are as altruistic as yours but they’re there. Maybe… maybe something good has come of all this, unwittingly perhaps, but good nonetheless. Maybe it’s given you a chance to reflect on your life. I know you say you don’t feel you can go back, but you don’t have to. To either life. Just find a way to be happy now.”

Marcus' words resonated deep within Daye. She couldn't go back, but maybe she could go forward. The things she'd done were terrible things, and she never would have done them if her conscience had been intact, but that didn't make her a bad person. Every day, people were faced with the choice between doing the right thing or doing the easy thing. She'd spent her whole life afraid... not of the things that go bump in the night, but of herself. Daye was passionate and impulsive. She tried so hard to rein herself in. She always had. Maybe it was time she found some way to reconcile the wild witch and the studious bookworm. It was time she found out who she really was.

"I've never really thought about what I do; about the choices I've made in my life this way before," Daye said. "It is a burden, sometimes, always wondering if what you're doing is the right thing."

Daye sighed, settling back on the stack of pillows behind her. She laughed softly. "I really am glad you're here, Marcus. I feel better than I have in a while. Thanks for that."

“Well I’m happy to be here too,” he said with a smile. Marcus eased back in his chair and turned the conversation to less earnest, lighter topics. They talked for an hour or so until it was obvious that Daye was tiring badly. Marcus stood and walked over to the bed. “You need more rest.” He bent down and brushed his lips across her forehead. “Sleep. I’ll come back in a few days to see how you’re getting on.”

He grasped her hand. "It'll get better." Daye nodded wearily and Marcus turned to leave; at the door he glanced back at a now sleeping Daye and thought she looked better than when he'd arrived.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Evalyn Toussaint on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 09:01.

Thursday, May 31st, 2007 - 19:09
1318 Poplar Avenue - Kossinton Apartment

“Hey, d’ya think I might check on Q again?”

Reah blinked down to the girl who was gazing up at the bland ceiling and resting her head back on Reah’s shoulder. The stark contrast displayed between the two was almost laughable; Reah doubted Chastity could get any comfier while she herself couldn’t possibly be more uptight. The girl was just too close for her liking, yet she was almost powerless to do anything about it for the sheer guilt she’d feel.

And just to make matters all the more perfect, there was the muted, unpleasant sound of Quin’s suffering in the background. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Chastity twisted her head around and rolled onto her belly. She was giving Reah one of those questioning looks while her hand was casually resting on Reah’s upper leg - probably without even the slightest thought or care given to what she was doing. Yet even still, Reah couldn’t bring herself to tell the girl to shove off. Not after Chastity had helped her.

Sighing, Reah slowly rose from the couch without seeming too eager to be gone and announced, “I’ll go check on her.”

Chastity smiled fondly up at Reah, just catching her eye and holding it for a moment. When Reah finally sniffed and looked away, Chastity flipped back on her back with a smirk, stretching herself as far out on the couch as she possibly could before giving a frown when she relaxed. “I don’t know how your not trippin’ over ev’rythin’ when you go in’ta that room. It’s so dark!”

Reah merely shrugged and headed off to her cousin’s room. “I’m just a freak.”

“Heh… I’ll say.” Chastity chuckled mildly to herself. Reah just shook her head and continued on ignoring the girl.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Evalyn Toussaint on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 09:04.

Thursday, May 31st, 2007 - 19:15
1318 Poplar Avenue - Kossinton Apartment

*I can’t. I can’t.* “I can’t.” *I can’t.* “There’s no one out there.” *I’m alone. Where are they all?* “Oh god! How-” *-could I?*

Quin rolled back and forth, hunched up in foetal position on her bed. Her shuddering gradually increased again, growing more and more violent until she was forced to throw herself over the side of the bed to vomit loudly in the bucket provided. The rotten taste of bile overwhelmed her senses once more. When it started to subside she tried to calm and control her breathing, fruitlessly spitting the unpleasant taste out of her mouth until her spine was suddenly arching again and she dry retched for what seemed like an age as her body strained to bring up anything it could in a vain attempt to eject the poison it had been exposed to not twenty four hours earlier.

Whatever drug Reah had used on her, it had definitely been powerful and effective. It wasn’t until later that morning that it had even shown signs of wearing off - of which Quin couldn’t be too sure she was grateful.

*What am I going to do? I can’t. I can’t.* “Trent…” *Oh god. Cameron. Balthas. Had to be. Oh god…* Quin gasped for fresh air, her face hot and slick with perspiration while her body twitched with uncertainty. *Reah… I couldn’t. I can’t. WHERE ARE THEY?!* “So cold…” *Alone. How could I? Can’t go back. Can’t. HELP ME! WHERE ARE YOU?* “Please come back…”

“Hey.”

Quin jumped and her stomach lurched at the unexpected hand intruding, clasping her shoulder and locking it in an iron grip. She twisted up, head pounding while strands of wayward hair obscured her face and vision as she stared up at her cousin, fearful and pleading. *Wha… what do you want? How long have you been there? I’m so-* “-sorry. I’m being too loud.”

Reah softly gazed into her messed-up cousin’s erratic eyes, gently rubbing her hand down off Quin’s shoulder to lightly massage her back. “How ya goin’?”

“Terrible.” Quin ducked her head away shamefully and stared intently at the swirling contents of the bucket as she felt another beginnings deep in her gut.

“Sorry about the drugs yesterday. They really are something rotten.” Reah sighed, soothing away the tenseness she’d felt buckling up her cousin again. “Try to relax. Breathe.”

Quin choked back on some bad air, then exhaled gratefully. “I should leave.” *I can’t be here.* “Need to run. He’s here.” *He has to be!* “I know it.” Voice trailing off into a whimper, she broke out in small sobs. “Why else would I…?” *Oh god!* “I can’t.”

“Shh, Quin. Shut up,” Reah scooted herself further across on the bed and folded her legs, pulling Quin gently back to cradle her head in her lap. “You’re starting to sound crazy. I always said you were stupid, but crazy is just going overboard. That’s my department.”

It wasn’t exactly a special or defining moment, but the two just sat there in the quiet isolation of Quin’s blackened room; neither uncomfortable, though neither peaceful either.

Reah’s mind drifted about without actually locking on any particular one thing, but regretfully she knew that half the reason she was still there wasn’t because she wanted to comfort her sorry younger cousin out of the goodness of her heart. Knowing it just made her feel all the worse, too. Not that she could help it. It just wasn’t something she could naturally do unless she was really close to the person.

And even then it was a bit of a trial.

“I’m going to be sick on you pants,” Quin mumbled between sniffles.

Reah sniffed, a cynical smirk crooking her lips, “Look who’s caring.” Though she spoke emotionlessly, Reah tilted her head down at her cousin’s and tenderly brushed the loose strands of hair back behind Quin’s ears. “We’re getting over it now. ’K?”

*Look who’s talking!*

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 09:19.

Thursday 31st May 2007 – 1:10pm
1318 Poplar Avenue

Onyx closed the door behind her and paused for a moment. She still wasn’t sure about Amanda’s relationship with Marcus. She might be suitable but having been burned once this century she wanted to be sure.

Onyx put that aside. Amanda and Marcus were for another day, now she had to deal with Tash and whatever changes her cure had wrought. Since she knew an immunological cure was potentially life threatening Onyx was fairly certain Kate was somehow starving the virus. Which meant Onyx would have to be very careful with magic around Tash if she didn’t want to expose her manipulation. Onyx extended her senses, neatly avoiding the wards laced through the building, and carefully checked for Tash’s presence. It took longer than normal since Onyx couldn’t track the usual ripples Tash’s psychic abilities left but eventually she found her – in the penthouse on the third floor.

Onyx slipped back into character and walked upstairs. A gentle rap announced her presence and she waited for a response.

Startled by the knock, Tash looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee cradled in her bare hands. For a second she frowned, wondering who had managed to get so close to her flat without her sensing them, then she gave a short bark of laughter. “Duh, stupid,” she said to herself.

“Who is it?” she called out, her customary greeting even when she had been able to garner a sense of who had come calling.

"It's Onyx, Tash."

Onyx. Despite herself, Tash felt her heart thump in her chest. Onyx was one of the reasons she hadn’t ventured out yet today. She knew one of the first things she should do was to see Onyx, to find out how her cure affected their relationship, but she was afraid to find out it was nothing more than a trick played by Hyde. And now Onyx was here… and the place was a mess!

“Oh God,” Tash muttered, eyeing the assorted piles of debris around the living and kitchen areas, and just knowing there was a mound of unwashed clothes on her bedroom floor. *Well, can’t be helped now.*

In a few short strides she reached the door and opened it, a tentative smile of greeting on her face. The sight of her lover’s face, however, brought with it the usual warm rush of feeling, and Tash’s smile broadened into one of genuine delight – and more than a little relief.

“Onyx, I didn’t expect… please, come in. The place is a mess, I’m afraid, but- Oh, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been… well, it’s been a rough couple of days.”

For all that Tash had talked with Kate last night, there was still so much she’d been through that she needed to work out. And seeing Onyx here, and feeling those same feelings of closeness and… *love?*… that she’d come to associate with her, Tash found her walls crumbling just a little more. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she ushered Onyx inside.

The tremulous quality of that first smile suggested Onyx wasn’t the only one unsure about how Hyde had affected their relationship, and the tears glistening in Tash’s eyes granted Onyx an opening. Inside the flat, Onyx ignored the mess and instead wrapped Tash in a tight hug before relaxing fractionally.

“Marcus came to visit Amanda; he didn’t mind so I thought I’d come see how you…” Onyx trailed off and released her hold on Tash as if realising her advances might no longer be welcome.

As Onyx pulled back, Tash let her hand trail down the woman’s arm, until their hands rested together lightly and Tash twined her fingers with Onyx’s. Smiling warmly, Tash moved to close the gap Onyx had just opened between them.

“It’s okay. I wondered… Well, I wasn’t sure if Hyde had anything to do with what we – I – felt. But seeing you, it’s like…” Tash heaved a deep breath. “It’s like I feel calmer, somehow. I feel like I’m home.”

Tash let her bare fingertips caress Onyx’s pale, perfect cheek, feeling the softness of her skin. Stepping even closer, Tash tilted her head upwards, her gaze trapped by Onyx’s blue eyes.

Inwardly triumph surged through Onyx but not a trace of that emotion touched her face. Instead was there was gentle concern and a hint of warm desire. Tash’s proximity and posture were all the invitation Onyx needed and she bent her neck to press a sweet kiss on Tash’s lips. Onyx’s arms slipped back around Tash’s waist and they continued to kiss, first gently and then with more vigour, Onyx letting her tongue swipe across Tash’s lips, then probing gently before utterly invading her. When they broke apart from that passionate kiss they found themselves wrapped in each others’ arms, bodies pressed tightly together. Onyx relaxed, that first surge of passion fading.

“I can’t…” she interspersed her words with more gentle kisses, “stay long… but we have… a little time for… ourselves.”

They retreated to the sofa where Tash curled up beside Onyx, their legs intertwining as Tash stroked Onyx’s lustrous hair, rubbing its silkiness between her fingertips. Having Onyx nearby was intoxicating, but right now Tash had more weighty matters on her mind than passion, and was able to push the lustful feelings aside for now. That, more than anything else, finally convinced Tash of Hyde’s complete lack of involvement with what she and Onyx had developed.

“I’m glad you’re here, Onyx. There’s so much I did over the past few months that was just… just awful. It’s as though you were the only oasis of decency in the whole terrible nightmare. Well, I don’t recall being especially mean to Marcus either, I guess. But I doubt I’d have been raising zombies if I weren’t… you know, infected.”

Tash looked away for a moment, then turned back and resumed her steady strokes through Onyx’s hair. “Maybe it’s because I didn’t know you two before I caught the virus. I don’t know, really. But I guess Marcus was helping me achieve what I thought I had to – I mean, Hyde just made me evil, right? Not dumb.” Tash laughed, but the sound was hollow and ended with something that sounded more like a sob.

Onyx drew Tash into another embrace, letting her hand stroke soothingly up and down Tash’s back. “I know you did some pretty awful things while infected but there’s nothing you can do about it now except make amends as best you can and move on.”

Onyx leant into Tash’s touch, rubbing her face gently against Tash’s fingers. “But you’ve no need to make amends to me or Marcus.” She frowned slightly, “Though I wouldn’t imply to Marcus there’s something wrong with raising zombies.”

“No, I suppose not, but… well, I’ve really been keeping all that vodoun stuff buried deep. Most of it’s pretty unsavoury, and...” Tash reached into her pocket and rubbed her fingers over the smooth leather she’d used to wrap around the control gem. It had barely been beyond her reach ever since Marcus had made it for her, just in case she needed to regain control of the zombies, and now she felt the burden of it.

Her conscience dictated that she should regain her power over the zombies and use it to let them rest at last. But her talk with Kate had set her thinking about what resources they had that they could bring to bear against Delancre, and having just over a hundred loyal troops at her command – on the inside, what’s more – was too valuable strategically to give up without considering. Withdrawing her fingers from the pocket, she tried to pick up the thread of what she’d been saying.

“I’m sorry, I know dealing with the undead is how Marcus makes his living, but personally I’ll be much happier once I’ve been able to de-animate the ones I made. Using Ohenewaa’s work makes me feel… sullied, somehow.”

It was hard hiding her dismay at Tash’s words but somehow Onyx managed it. She hadn’t realised Tash’s willingness to use her vodoun knowledge had been facilitated so much by Hyde. Her obvious discomfort at the thought forced Onyx to reassess her entire plan. If Tash wasn’t willing to help, she might have to fall back on developing Marcus’ skills and that could take decades. That wasn’t that great a length of time, especially in light of how long everything had already taken, but she had been given an opportunity of a shortcut to potentially have it snatched away just when it was in reach. It was devastating.

*No… there’s a way around this.* Onyx wasn’t about to give up and if there was a limit to how far her magic could push Tash still it had provided Onyx with an opening. She was Tash’s trusted lover; if she continued to play that role she could convince Tash. Onyx’s calculation of her and Tash’s future relationship didn’t show on her face and Onyx continued her gentle motions, soothing Tash.

“Is it safe keeping it buried like that?” The undertone of concern was, Onyx thought, pitched perfectly.

Tash shifted uncomfortably in Onyx’s arms, pushing herself to a sitting position from where they lay tangled together on the sofa. Even without her additional senses, she could tell Onyx was a little disappointed that she’d pulled away from her embrace, and let herself relax again a little, sinking back towards the warm, tender touch of her lover.

“Well, yes, I guess there is, really. When I first got the memories I kinda went over the edge for a while – but I’ve been living with them easily for ages now. It’s just… I’ve never used them so much before. I don’t know, do you think having awakened them they may not sink back quietly again?” It was something Tash hadn’t really thought about until now, but she’d had too many other things on her mind.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Onyx brushed her lips over Tash’s ear. “I’m not surprised you had trouble before.” She reached up and began to rub shoulders that had suddenly grown tense. “Humans aren’t designed to have a few centuries of additional life experience.”

Onyx kept her movements and tone of voice soft. “If you’ve really come to terms with them they should be yours to use or not as you decide. I’ll say this, though. You seemed to enjoy your sessions with Marcus as much for the challenge as anything else.”

Tash gave a short laugh. “They were certainly brain bending, and yes, we worked well together. But I… Oh, I still owe him a debt, don’t I?”

Muscles that had begun to ease beneath Onyx’s skilful fingers suddenly tensed again. “What am I going to do, Onyx? I do owe him, but I made that bargain when I wasn’t exactly my rational self. And… well, I’m not sure I should keep diving into Ohenewaa’s work. Maybe I have come to terms with her experiences and they can’t harm me any more, but they still have some unpleasant memories attached. That woman used to perform the blackest of black magic, you know.”

Once more Tash struggled to a more upright position. “Mostly he seems to work more in the grey areas, but then again he did summon that thing at the mansion. Damn, what do I do? Should I keep working with him to pay off that debt? Our sessions were interesting, but there are some areas I’m not keen to delve into. Or should I risk pissing off a powerful necromancer and renege? You know him, Onyx – what would he say if I begged off the remainder? I can offer him all sorts of impressive artefacts as compensation…”

“Helping Daye was important to him and you made that possible.” Unwilling to let Tash out of her arms for long, Onyx sat up as well before pulling Tash against her and letting her hands continue to ease the tension in Tash’s shoulders.

“He may be willing to renegotiate; either an artefact or perhaps some limits on what you can discuss. It depends on how he feels. Really he doesn’t need much; objects, money or anything else. So he can be somewhat… fickle over what he’ll accept.” Onyx pressed her mouth to the hollow of Tash’s shoulder, lingering there for a while. “Let’s not talk about Marcus any more.”

“No, you’re right. Let’s not.” Tilting her head to plant a teasing kiss on Onyx’s throat, Tash sighed. “You do make me feel better, just having you in the same room. There’s so much shit floating around in my head right now that it’s hard to think straight. I keep running through all the things I’ve done that I wish I could take back, but I can’t. All I can do is try to make it up as best I can to the people I’ve hurt.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And one way to do that is to take down the monster who started it all. I know Marcus has already helped with getting Daye out…” Not that Tash particularly approved of his actions that day. “Would you, and Marcus perhaps, be willing to help out with Delancre?”

Onyx tensed. There wasn’t much she could say to that – she could shade the truth but not by much. “I can’t say. There’s only so much freedom Marcus allows me and on something like…” Onyx shrugged helplessly. “As for Marcus himself he is a mercenary.” Onyx tried to take the sting out of that with a kiss and a joke. “And somehow we’re back to Marcus.”

Making a face to hide her disappointment at Onyx’s unenthusiastic response, Tash slid back down to rest her head upon Onyx’s shoulder. “Well then,” she responded in a tone as light-hearted as Onyx’s, “we’ll have to make a rule. Any mention of Marcus means five minutes where we aren’t allowed to kiss. Not counting that one, of course.”

Any further comment was muffled by Onyx’s mouth smothering hers, and after a minute or two Tash had forgotten what she wanted to say anyway.

Kate and Marcus Come to an Understanding

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 10:46.

Thursday, 31st May 2007 – 2:43pm - Outside 1318 Poplar Avenue

Slamming shut the door to her car, Kate glanced up at the brownstone apartment block with a sense of worry. Her visit yesterday had provoked mixed feelings; things she hadn’t really expected. She couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards Daye despite all her best attempts to remain impassive during her attentions - she had been a good friend to her once and even though things had changed Kate had found that she couldn’t just turn those feelings off. Nor did anyone deserve the kind of torture and suffering that Daye had been subjected to; it made her feel sick to think of the things that she had endured, the pain, the violation...

Feeling a cold shiver travel over her skin, Kate made her way up to the stoop, ascending the first couple of steps. She didn’t even notice the man who pushed open the door at the top until she almost collided with him.

“Hello, Kate.”

Marcus had been waiting in the front hall for Onyx to finish her visit to Tash when he’d seen Kate’s car pull up. She was probably here to check on one of her charges. Tash or Daye. He hoped Kate could help Daye through her recovery; the uncertainty she’d displayed during his visit had been momentarily disconcerting.

“How are things?”

“Marcus!” exclaimed Kate in surprise. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts that she’d barely noticed him. She frowned, looking up at the apartment building and then back at the necromancer. It felt strange to see him here of all places and in daylight too. Kate suddenly realised that every time she had met Marcus it had been at night, under the cover of darkness. Seeing him in broad daylight somehow made him seem almost normal, far from the mysterious and dangerous aspect he usually projected.

“I’m… good,” she answered vaguely, still puzzled as to why he was at Poplar though considering how often his name came up in conversation, first Cole then Drew and Nikolai and finally Tash, Kate was beginning to wonder if there was a person left in Los Angeles who hadn’t been introduced to the resident necromancer. “What are you doing here?”

Kate didn’t seem suspicious, just puzzled, to Marcus. So he decided to answer her question honestly enough. “Just visiting Daye,” he could put aside the antagonism of their previous meeting, “and Onyx wanted to drop in on Tash.”

“Really?” Kate’s voice was a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She’d had limited contact with Onyx but she just didn’t strike her as the ‘drop in to see how you are’ type. “Is she well? Amanda, I mean… I was just on my way to…” Kate shrugged awkwardly, “…healing.”

Marcus noted the initial surprise from Kate but brushed it away. He’d probably said too much with that remark already. It wasn’t the first time Onyx had taken a companion and the family had learned to accommodate the demon’s needs.

“She’s okay. A little confused by everything that has happened. What she’s done as well as what was done to her. Time and care will ease that I’m sure. Tired from the whole ordeal too. She was sleeping when I left.”

He was going to say more but really Kate probably had a better idea of what Daye needed than he did. It was more her area - the living - but he couldn’t refrain from one last comment. “She needs friends too, people willing to understand everything that happened.”

Kate could barely control her annoyance at Marcus’ words which were so obviously directed at herself. What right did he have to tell her how she should behave and what she should feel towards Amanda? She had risked her life to save her the other night and since then had run herself to the point of exhaustion to help heal her injuries. And what did he know about anything that had transpired between them? It might have been Hyde that had encouraged Amanda to do the things she did but that didn’t lessen the pain of her actions.

Struggling to contain her emotions, Kate climbed another two steps towards the open vestibule that led into the building. “Oh really?” she queried in annoyance. “You seem quite concerned for a woman who you had to be coerced into helping. You came to see Amanda out of the goodness of your heart did you? Or did you come to collect on your end of the bargain already?”

Kate’s response was exactly why he should have remained silent. He repressed a sigh and answered as best he could. Kate didn’t understand his motivations and their worldviews were too divergent for her to learn.

“My bargain was with Drew and I’ll claim that in due course. I was here for Daye, to be a friend, someone who wouldn’t judge her for acts that were not entirely her fault.”

“We all have to take responsibility for our actions, Marcus,” said Kate briskly, though she knew his words held some grain of truth and that was the very issue with which she was having such problems coming to terms.

Daye had hurt her so badly and she couldn’t just erase away those feelings just because of some virus. Besides, as she was coming to understand, Hyde had merely removed the restraints and inhibitions of its infected, it wasn’t responsible for the primitive desires of the host. Somewhere inside, Amanda had wanted to break free from her old life and a part of her had wanted to hurt those around her. Marcus might be able to brush aside that fact but then he hadn’t been on the receiving end of Amanda’s destruction.

“But you’re right,” she added as almost an afterthought, averting her eyes from Marcus’ piercing gaze. “She does need all the friends she can get. If that includes you then she’s lucky… for your understanding, I mean.”

*And what would you have done free of restraint?* Marcus ignored those words though he wished he could sit Kate and Onyx down and have the demon explain just what Hyde did, in practice not just in theory. Biological agents were unreliable at the best of times; including magic in them made them even worse. Kate wasn’t willing to accept the differences between Amanda and Daye, to do so would mean having to let go of her pain at Amanda’s actions and Kate was only human - she wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“I’m glad she has you as well. Whatever lies between you.”

Kate nodded slowly in acceptance. She still felt awkward though. The night of Amanda’s rescue and what had transpired afterwards lay like a barrier between them and although Kate was less certain of Marcus’ character than she had been before she still felt a need to clear the air.

“Do you mind if we walk for a moment?” she asked tentatively. Marcus was waiting for his servitor and she still had to go and see Daye but what she had to say wouldn’t take that long. At Marcus’ circumspect expression Kate explained. “There are things that need to be said, here just doesn’t seem like the best place.”

*Ah well were weren’t going to avoid this forever.* “Certainly.”

Kate laced her fingers together in front of her as they set off, waiting until they had cleared the apartment block before she began. “I think you can already guess what…” she ventured warily as they walked. Kate cast a glance in Marcus’ direction, noticing the stiffness of his poise and the fixed expression of his face.

“I guess I should just come straight out and say it…” Kate took a deep breath before she continued. “You saved our lives the other night Marcus and it was… unfair of me to censure you the way I did. I can’t say that I condone your actions, that your callous disregard for life doesn’t… unsettle me somewhat - though I should have expected as such from a man of your profession.”

Kate fixed her gaze on some high and distant point, not wanting to look at Marcus until she had finished. “The truth of the matter is, I was offended by the manner in which you profited from this affair. I considered you a friend, Marcus, and while I understand that you have your own ideas on what that concept entails they are obviously very different from my own.”

Marcus nodded. Freed of the danger his loss of control of Sehkmet had represented Marcus had been able to see Kate’s point of view more clearly. Kate was wiccan and did her best to live by the Rede.

“I understand your problem with my actions Kate. They were at odds with the Rede and as a Sindell witch I imagine that’s pretty important to you. I don’t share the same principles and my profession gives me a different perspective on life and death. Not enough to let someone kill me but still different.”

Marcus relaxed a little. Kate was still judging him which was apt to annoy him but she was much less strident about the matter and he could live with that. The second reference to his bargain with Drew did annoy him though but rather than giving in to his anger perhaps an explanation was in order. Kate wouldn’t accept it, the whole thing with Cole told him that, but he would try anyway.

“You realise Daye was cured by Onyx at my direction?”

At Kate’s nod he continued on. “I was against her return to Delancre’s mansion. I felt it was a needless risk and told her so. There were… harsh words. I promised if she was caught I wouldn’t help her.”

Kate shook her head with an air of weary acquiescence. She didn’t think she would ever understand Marcus; his views and opinions just seemed contradictory to her. In one breath he protested that he wouldn’t help Daye because of some argument they’d had, the next he was rushing to her bedside to see how she was.

“So, she ignored your advice?” said Kate with a slight laugh. “You’d better get used to it Marcus, it won’t be the last time I can assure you. Amanda’s one of the most stubborn people I know.”

Marcus laughed. “I’m aware of that.” He spent a moment to reflect on the shake of Kate’s head. “I want to be clear. That ‘promise’ to Daye, spoken in haste, is why I made Drew pay for my help. Not my finest moment I’ll admit, but…”

“But what is done, is done,” finished Kate with a measure of sadness. They walked in silence for a little longer before Kate spoke again.

“I know that you had no reason to show any kind of forbearance towards Drew and considering this promise you made to Amanda, perhaps no reason to pay her any lenience either.” She suddenly paused in mid-stride and reached out her hand to halt Marcus. “When I came to you for your help, I was the one asking, Marcus. Not Drew… not Amanda.”

Kate averted her gaze uncomfortably. “Perhaps… I thought I could prevail upon our friendship in doing so. I realise that I was wrong to do so, foolish maybe. I misinterpreted our association; made it into something more than just a simple business transaction - that was my fault. I should never have presumed that it meant anything more.”

“You may have made the approach but it was Drew who was really asking,” *pleading,* “and Daye who needed help.” Marcus sighed. “Perhaps you did presume on our relationship but I gave you no reason not to. It was more than a business transaction but I rarely let even friends… I should have made that clear.”

“Everyone has their boundaries,” admitted Kate, glancing back at how far they’d come. “Things they won’t do, no matter what.”

The door to 1318 Poplar Avenue opened as Marcus stood there thinking what to say next. It came down to divergent worldviews; Marcus couldn’t accept Kate’s position, Kate couldn’t accept his. Onyx looked around, then began walking slowly up the street towards them. Marcus watched her come.

“I’m not sure what else I can say. If you need help don’t be afraid to ask. If it doesn’t include assaulting the mansion of the First Elder of the Watchers’ Council I might even agree.”

Kate watched the demoness as she approached. She had never really felt comfortable around her; there was just something about Onyx’s silent obedience that seemed wrong, like she could be constantly plotting their downfall and all the while looking as though butter wouldn’t melt.

Turning to Marcus, Kate was somewhat amused by his offer. If only he knew what was about to happen, if he knew the battle that lay ahead. For the past three nights Kate had dreamt of nothing but and each time it terrified her to her core.

“I should go now,” she said quickly, thinking of Amanda asleep, hoping that she would still be that way when she arrived to continue her healing. “I hope that you will allow yourself to feel the same, Marcus,” she added, turning to face him before she left, snaking past Onyx as she strode towards her master. “If you ever need help…”

Drew and Daye talk after she's rescued

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 12:07.

*** Thursday, May 31, 2007 5 pm ***
*** Poplar Avenue ***

Drew slipped into the quiet bedroom and shut the door behind him with a soft click. He moved to the foot of the bed and stood there silently watching Amanda. She was asleep, one hand curled beside her cheek. Her eyes were closed, long eyelashes fanning pale cheeks. Drew clenched his fists at his side and once again cursed the impotent frustration he was feeling. Ever since Ryan had returned with Amanda, Drew had been battling back these darker emotions. He was furious, and not just at Ambrose Delancre. He was angry at Amanda as well.

*Why?* he asked himself once again. *Why did you go back? Why didn’t you just come home to me? Even that Dalton bastard told you to come home. So, why, Baby? Why?*

Drew moved slowly around the bed, sitting in the chair next to it. He watched Amanda sleep, struggling with all the emotions choking him. He hated that she’d taken such a terrible risk. It made him mad and it broke his heart. For whatever reason, most likely because she felt so guilty, Amanda had gone back to the Council house. She’d made a choice, and as much as he hated to admit it, that choice infuriated Drew. He wanted to believe she loved him as much as he loved her. He wanted to believe, despite the virus and the terrible things she’d done, that Amanda really wanted to be with him, that she cared more about him than anything or anyone else.

The problem as Drew saw it now was that what Amanda had done didn’t coordinate with that truth. If he and Maia were the most important things in the world to her, then why had she put herself in such terrible danger? If they mattered more than anything, then why would she very nearly get herself killed? Was it possible that Amanda did love them, but not as much as she loved the life she lived? Would she always put these things first? Would he spend half his life waiting in some dark room to find out whether or not she was alright, whether or not she’d be coming back?

When Ryan, Kate, and Marcus had raided the Council house to save Amanda, that’s what Drew had been doing. He’d sat in the front room of Tash’s empty apartment and worried. He’d prayed to a God he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore, one that Amanda sure as hell didn’t worship, and he’d fought back tears of fear and rage. He’d left Maia with Sam at his mother’s house. He’d wanted to keep his little girl with him, to use her as a distraction, which is why he hadn’t done so. He wouldn’t do that to Maia. It hurt too damn much to feel like someone’s distraction. He knew. Sometimes he felt like that when he was with Amanda. He tried to be understanding, but there was no way to stop what you felt, and it was damn hard to ignore it sometimes.

The worst thing, as far as Drew was concerned, was that he was sitting here beside the bed looking at her ravaged face, and he felt this way. He had seen every cut, every burn, every bruise, and he’d felt this burning rage and bitter disappointment. He pushed it down, deep down inside, but it was still there. It made Drew ashamed. How could he feel such anger for the woman he loved? How, now when she was suffering so, could he possibly want to lash out at her?

So, Drew was careful as could be. He made sure that he treated her with only gentleness, that he protected her. Amanda was weak now, and she was in so much pain. He wouldn’t, couldn’t add to it. So, he kept his mouth shut when the anger became too hot. He spoke of pleasant things. He cradled her carefully in his arms. He kissed her softly. He shielded her. But he never told her the truth, because the truth was too cruel.

Drew sighed as Amanda stirred finally in the bed. He pushed all thought of anger deep down. He mustered a warm smile for her as she slowly opened her eyes. When Amanda looked at him all she saw was the concerned and protective lover.

“Hi,” Amanda said softly.

“Hi Baby,” Drew replied, reaching out to brush the hair from her forehead. “You sleep good?”

Daye nodded. “Yeah… Marcus was here earlier. I must have fallen back to sleep when he left.”

Drew didn’t respond. Inside he felt a flash of jealous heat at the mention of the necromancer. The man had been one of the many lovers Amanda had taken while she was suffering from the effects of the Hyde virus. Despite what Kate and the others thought, Drew was fully aware of everything Amanda had done. He might not have the exact details, but he understood that she’d had indiscriminate sex with just about every male that crossed her path. He was fairly certain she’d seduced Galen Eldridge, which made Drew uncomfortable, but at least he knew Galen, and he understood how Galen could have done it. Drew liked and respected Galen. He could forgive the man and put the incident behind him.

The problem was that Drew didn’t know Marcus Dalton at all, and what little he’d managed to learn about the man only served to make Drew question the necromancer’s values and intentions. It grated on Drew’s nerves how superior Dalton acted. After all, he had slept with Drew’s fiancé, and then had the nerve to demand payment for helping rescue Amanda. Obviously, the man had only casual feelings for her, which was why Drew couldn’t understand Dalton coming to visit her. Surely the man wasn’t actually interested in Amanda’s friendship. Which was just as well, because Drew wasn’t sure he could pretend to like Marcus Dalton.

“Marcus came to see you?” Drew asked. “What did he want?”

Daye heard the sharp edge in Drew’s voice. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, though. After all, Drew probably guessed that she and Marcus had been lovers. “He just wanted to see how I was doing,” Daye replied. “He was very… nice. I’m glad he came by.”

“Well, if he made you feel better,” Drew said, “then I can’t really object. You and he are going to continue to be friends, I guess.”

Daye could hear in Drew’s voice that he didn’t exactly approve of Marcus. *Well, what the hell is that about?* she wondered. *Ok, yeah, I slept with him, but I slept with a lot of people while I was… sick… and I feel bad about that, but it’s not like Marcus is to blame. He had no idea I wasn’t acting like myself, or that I was involved with someone else, and as soon as he found out he not only kept his hands to himself but he went out of his way to help me get better. We owe him our thanks.*

Daye sighed. “Yes, I am going to try and be his friend, Drew,” she said flatly. “I like Marcus, and I think he’s more than earned both my respect and my friendship. Is that a problem for you?”

Drew wanted to snap at her, to tell her that her precious friend had only agreed to help rescue her once he’d been assured there was something in it for him. He wanted to rant that the man was no good, and that Daye would be better off staying the hell away from Marcus Dalton. That was what Drew wanted to say, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let him own jealousy or unease show through. Amanda was still very fragile and he didn’t want to upset her. He only wanted to make her happy.

“No, no problem,” Drew replied with a soft smile. “If having Marcus visit makes you feel better, then I’m all for it. I just want you to take care of yourself. I want you to be all right.”

Drew took Daye’s hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes shone with concern and adoration. “Baby, I love you so much. I just want everything to go back to normal now.”

Daye flushed, feeling guilty for her earlier negative thoughts. How could she question Drew? He truly loved her and wanted what was best for her. It was wrong to get annoyed with him, or to feel smothered. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and happy. He was a wonderful, sweet, kind man. He was the man she loved.

“I love you too,” Daye said. “I, I just want… I want you to be happy.”

Daye couldn’t bring herself to say that she wanted everything back the way it was before Hyde. She couldn’t lie to him or to herself. She wasn’t the same person. She could look at things in a different way now, and as ashamed as she was of her actions, she could also see how those actions had been an overblown expression of needs she’d long left unacknowledged. At times, Daye wanted to let go. She always had held herself so tightly reined in, and Hyde had shown her how sometimes taking a moment for herself could be liberating. Marcus had been right on the money earlier. She didn’t want to be the selfish slut the virus had made her, but she wouldn’t go back to being a total martyr either. She could use this experience to find a happy medium.

“I am. I’m happy just to be here near you,” Drew said. Daye saw the softening in his bright blue eyes and was unsurprised when he leaned forward to brush his mouth over hers. She could feel the restrained passion in his kiss. As always with this man, she felt the warm tingle of awareness in her body. She was in no condition to satisfy his banked desire, but she echoed it despite her other misgivings.

Daye smiled at him when Drew pulled away.

“Are you feeling all right?” Drew asked. “Is there anything that you need? How are you doing?”

Daye laughed softly. He asked her these same questions every time she saw him, which was just about every time she was awake. Drew was giving up so much just so he could be there for her, to see to her needs personally as often as possible.

“I’m fine,” Daye replied, pushing herself up slowly to a sitting position. She tried not to wince as the motion sent pain shooting through her abused body.

Drew saw the flare of pain in Daye’s light green eyes. He silently cursed Ambrose Delancre for the millionth time. What he wouldn’t do to get his hands around the First Elder’s aristocratic neck. Drew moved quickly to rearrange the pillows behind Daye’s head. He wanted to keep her as comfortable as possible.

“Sorry,” Daye said softly when Drew jumped to assist her, a dark frown momentarily marring his visage. “I guess I’m still pretty sore. But I’m feeling better. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to get up and around tomorrow or the next day.”

Drew frowned at her words. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “You’re still really weak, and you… The bruises; your face; your body…”

Daye could see how much it hurt him to talk about how she looked now. Daye lifted a hand to her still-healing cheek. She smiled ruefully. “I know, I don’t exactly look like a supermodel, but honestly, I think this looks a lot worse than it is. The sooner I get out of this bed and start at least moving around the apartment, the sooner I can get my life back on track.”

Drew nodded. He knew she was right, but part of him desperately wanted her to just stay locked up in this bedroom, where he knew she would be safe. He wished he could wrap her up in his arms and never let her go.

“Of course, you’re right,” he relented. “You can’t stay in this bed forever.”

Daye grinned, her eyes sparkling. “No, not this bed,” she agreed. “But I’m sure when I’m feeling up to it you could probably convince me to spend a few days in some other bed with you, just the two of us.”

Drew chuckled softly. Her suggestion fired his blood. He wanted that, to spend time alone with this woman he loved and brand her body with his own. He wanted to remind Daye that he was the man meant for her. He wanted to bury himself in her again and again, until he’d managed to erase the memory of every other man from her mind. And he wanted to marry her, to claim her and tie her forever to him as his wife.

“Sounds like a honeymoon to me,” Drew’s voice was husky.

Daye’s eyes widened at his sudden conversational turn. “Yeah,” she mused, “I guess it kind of does.”

“Well, to have one of those, you have to have a wedding first, don’t you?” Drew asked, slipping his hand into his pants pocket and drawing out a familiar-looking small wooden box. He popped it open and smiled boyishly at Daye. “So, whaddya say? You still gonna marry me?”

Daye’s eyes brimmed with tears. She wasn’t sure what made her cry. She was touched that he had been carrying the ring around in his pocket, but at the same time she was unsure how to proceed. She loved Drew. She really did, but Daye wondered if that would be enough. For so long, there seemed to be a conspiracy to keep them apart. First it had been her family in Ireland, then Ryan and Mother Mariah, now Delancre and the Hyde virus. Every time she felt that things were finally settling down, that she could think about forever with this man, something happened. Why was that? If they were meant to be together, then why was it so hard?

Daye couldn’t help but remember the conversation she’d had with Marcus earlier as well. She had meant what she’d said, that there was no way she wanted to just go back to the careful, controlled person she’d spent her life becoming. She didn’t want to go around screwing everything on two legs, or even more, but she did want to experience her own passions more fully. She wanted to grab a hold of life and take an enormous bite. Daye was tired of always being responsible and careful. She wanted to change herself, to find some way to let go and still do the things she had to do.

Drew waited patiently while Daye seemed lost in thought. He felt a sudden rising fear. Why did she hesitate? Was she no longer sure about him, about them? What could she be thinking? What held her back? Was it just how unsettled their lives were right now? Or, perhaps was it something - or someone - else that seemed to be coming between them?

“Amanda, Baby?” Drew prodded, unable to stop himself. “You do still want to marry me, right?”

Daye was drawn out of her confused reverie by Drew’s words. She focused on him, seeing the confusion in his eyes. He loved her. She knew that. He wanted her. She knew that too. He didn’t care what she did or who she was or wasn’t. Drew just accepted her. So, surely, he would understand her need to find a new way to be herself. There was no reason to refuse his proposal. She wanted to be his wife. She did. There was no one, no one, in the whole world that could be more right for her, no matter what other choices she made. She couldn’t disappoint him. There was no reason for her to.

Daye smiled, her eyes still shining with tears. “Of course I do,” she said. “I love you, Drew.”

Drew smiled shakily, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Until she’d said the words, he had actually been unsure of her answer. That was silly, but still he couldn’t help it. With everything that had happened, no matter how much he loved Amanda, part of him still struggled to trust her. He knew intellectually that her Hyde-influenced behavior had been outside of her control, but it was hard to make his heart believe what his mind accepted as truth.

Drew picked up Daye’s left hand from where it rested on the comforter and slipped the engagement ring back on it. He leaned forward and kissed her, long and slow.

Daye accepted both Drew’s ring and his kiss. She sighed with longing when he pulled away. Then she raised her hand and stared at the ring for a few moments. It was perhaps more beautiful now then it had been when he’d first given it to her at Christmas. Then, it had been a symbol of their love, but now it was a symbol of their determination as well. They would be married. It was what they both wanted.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 12:17.

Friday, 1st June 2007 – 6:39pm
Apt 205 – Poplar Avenue

Drew strode to the door and swung it open when he heard the knocking. He wasn’t surprised to see Tash standing on the other side. She’d stopped by a few times already, trying to catch Daye awake.

“Hi, Tash,” Drew smiled wearily at her. “You finally lucked out. She’s just having a little something to eat now. Come on in.”

“Oh, good news.”

Tash walked into the apartment, feeling that strange pang of familiarity and difference, and stopped to rest a hand on Drew’s arm. She had spent a little time chatting with him on her earlier visits, and wondered whether despite his unassailable optimism he might be starting to feel the strain. Without her talents she had no clue how he was really feeling, but there seemed to be a hint of tiredness around his eyes.

“So, how are you holding up?”

“Okay, I’m doing okay,” Drew replied. “It’s sort of... crowded in here, but I’m doing okay now that Daye’s starting to look better. I think we’ll be all right.”

Tash chuckled. “Crowded is right. These flats weren’t meant for four adults and a baby, you know. So, is it okay for me to go in to see her, or would you rather I wait until she’s finished eating? Sam’s with her, or Ryan?”

Tash swallowed. She hadn’t really spoken properly to Ryan – Nightwalker no longer – since her recovery, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react to her. She’d not been particularly nasty to him, but she’d tried to use him just as she’d used everyone else she’d come into contact with. *Except Onyx.*

“No, go on in,” Drew replied. “Uhm... Ryan’s in there...” There was definite an uneasy note in Drew’s voice at the mention of the demon. “Sam and Maia are back in the other bedroom, reading I think.”

“Hrmm, okay.”

Soon she was tapping lightly at the bedroom door that was only slightly ajar, pushing it open to reveal Daye half-sitting up in bed and Ryan hovering nearby watching as she ate. Tash nodded to the demon, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice as she said, “Hello, Ni… Ryan.”

“Natasha,” Ryan said stiffly. “You look... well.”

Tash made a wry face. “Depends how deep you look, I guess. I’m not sick any more, but I wouldn’t say I was exactly well. Just knowing that I had Hyde doesn’t really help me deal with what I’ve done to everyone. I… Daye,” she blurted, turning to include Daye in the apology, “I’m so sorry. I was there at the mansion all that time you were in the cells, and if I’d really wanted to I could have found a way in. I could have got you out before all this… I only got Nightwal – Ryan – out because it benefited me. I’m so sorry, to both of you.”

Daye sighed. She had been expecting to have these conversations with her friends, the ones where they apologised for their behaviour, as if she felt in the least justified in judging any of them.

“Believe me, Tash, I don’t blame you at all,” Daye said softly. “I was... what happened to me at that mansion was my fault.”

Tash shook her head. “Maybe you were dumb to go back, but I understand why you did. Hell, the second I was cured I was suggesting to Kate that I go back in. But she was right, it would have been suicide. Delancre was aware that Kate could have the cure…” Tash sighed, stopping her ramble before it got out of control. Kate’s vehemence against the idea had been formidable, to say the least.

She cast a glance at Ryan, who remained stony-faced beside Daye’s bed. Tash took a step closer to him and attempted a smile. “I am sorry, Ryan. I know there’s nothing I can do to make it all go away, but at least we can band together to fight the cause of it all.”

“Destroying Delancre is all that matters now,” Ryan replied baldly. “You did what you did. We all did what we did. I don’t care. I only care that Delancre is stopped... for good. I only care that Daye and Maia are safe... for good.”

Daye sighed. Ryan was steadfast in this. He wouldn’t look forward to what came after the battle. He only planned for it. She feared that was because he didn’t care if he survived and that made her heart ache.

“Do you think... Could we be alone now, Ryan?” Daye asked. He glanced down at her tray of food, hesitated, and then nodded. Without another word, he turned and left the room.

Daye turned to Tash and smiled weakly. She was still so very tired and in so much pain. “I’m sorry, Tash. He’s...I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Do you want to sit down? We could maybe... talk for a bit.”

Tash nodded shyly and settled on the chair beside the bed. “I’d like that. You’re looking much better, I have to say. Kate’s really been going to town on you, huh?”

“Kate’s been... she’s been wonderful. She comes by every day to do a little more and check up on me.” Daye’s voice grew small. “Goddess alone knows why she would bother. I certainly don’t deserve it.”

Reaching out slowly, Tash gently brushed Daye’s hand with her own to offer the comfort of human touch, and felt the slight tenderness of Daye’s skin still, although the bruising had all but faded.

“Daye, if you go by those criteria, none of us who had Hyde probably deserve anything from anyone. You know… while you were in the cells, I…” Tash paused and dropped her gaze, then started again.

“When you were taken, Nightwalker found me and threatened to expose my machinations to Delancre if I didn’t help him escape. So I used the hold I had over Alessa to force her to help me help him. But all I could think about was how having him out of the way made it easier for me to continue to play the loyal lapdog to Delancre.

“I knew there was someone else there who could expose me, and he had you in the most vulnerable position. I wanted to make sure you’d never tell him about my plots… and I…” She finished in a rush, “I planned to get to you to kill you.”

Biting her lip, Tash lifted her gaze back to Daye’s face, expecting to see shock, anger, recrimination, loathing… God knew she deserved it.

Daye was shocked by Tash’s sudden guilty outburst, but she quickly controlled herself. She could see the agony this admission was causing her friend. She understood how it felt, to now be aware of the terrible things you had done and be unable to undo them. At least, though, Tash had not gone through with the more nefarious of her plans while under the influence of Hyde. Daye herself hadn’t been so lucky.

“Tash,” Daye began gently, taking a firm hold of Tash’s hand, “whatever you planned to do... remember, you didn’t do it. Maybe you think you would have, but I think... no, I know you wouldn’t have gone through with it. Hyde... it was very seductive, very hard to resist. I don’t harbour anger at you for what you did, or for what you thought about doing. You’re my friend. I happen to need as many of those as I can get.”

“But all this… I might have prevented…” Tash looked down at their hands, dark fingers entwined with pale, and saw a tear splash onto the bedsheets.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, when she felt she could speak again. “Everyone’s been so understanding, even though I was horrible. And yes, I understand too why others were distant from me even as I was distancing myself from them. It’s all a big pot of understanding at the moment. But I have to wonder… will any of us ever truly trust each other fully again?”

She glanced up. “Has Delancre broken something precious, that we might never recapture? Even if we rebuild the White Hats… I’m sorry, I’m being maudlin. I am glad you’re feeling a lot better. And Ryan’s right, you know. We have to destroy Delancre before he can finish what he’s started. He plans to become a god.”

Daye paled visibly at Tash’s words. She knew, of course. She understood on a basic level how far Delancre’s ambition went, but she’d never heard it stated so baldly before.

“I suppose I knew that,” Daye replied. “He wants Maia, to use her to gain power over... everything. I... we can’t let that happen.” Daye’s voice quavered, but she couldn’t help it. She was afraid, very, very afraid of the First Elder. “So... do we have a plan?”

“We have the beginnings of one. Some of us have been discussing it over the past few days. Drew thinks it’s too early for you to be in on them, but really, I know if I were the one lying there I’d want to know what we had cooking.” Tash smiled brokenly, starting to feel happier now the conversation was steering towards more practical matters.

“Right now those of us who had Hyde aren’t exactly at our peak.” Tash held up her free hand. “No gloves, see? I can’t sense a damn thing. I had no idea how much I relied on that to clue me in simply to a person’s presence. It’s eerie being in a room with someone and not feeling them. But we still have assets. Kate’s magic is untouched, and I can still fight. We have most of the old White Hats, plus Ryan, and we’ve had offers of help from Mike Coulter and Ellis Longwood – Kate’s going to see them tomorrow, I think. Time is a bit of a factor…”

Shuddering at the memory, Tash explained. “When they came to rescue both of us, Kate asked a necromancer to help out, but he, um… got a little carried away it seems. Kate says she didn’t ask him to do it, but… and ironically, I helped him summon the thing in the first place. Anyway,” she pressed on, knowing her explanation was entirely inadequate but hoping to gloss over it, “the upshot is that Delancre has rather fewer troops than he did last week, so we want to move before he has time to build up the numbers again.”

“Rather fewer troops is a good thing,” Daye murmured, thinking about the significance of what Tash had just said about helping Marcus. She hadn’t realized that Tash even knew Marcus. “You... you know Marcus Dalton, then?” Daye asked. She didn’t know quite what to think or feel about Marcus being acquainted with so many of her friends. He had known Kate as well, and not through any connection to her. Daye was still very confused about Marcus. She was so grateful to him for helping her, and she really, genuinely liked the man, but it was awkward... all things considered.

Tash looked at Daye strangely. Something she'd only half-heard from Onyx yesterday, about Marcus coming to visit Amanda, finally filtered through to her addled brain. “Don’t tell me you know him too? Is there anyone who hasn’t? So who were you…”

Tash stopped, suddenly shutting her mouth on the words ‘raising from the dead’. It was not a question she needed an answer to, and was simply the first thing that had popped through her brain. She didn’t know if Kate had mentioned her attempt to raise Emma to anyone else, and while all her friendships were still in a delicate phase was not the time to be rocking the boat.

“Never mind. It’s not my business. I just… it’s odd, is all. That man seems to get around. Actually…” This was the part of the plans against Delancre that she wasn’t very happy about. She hated the idea of using these poor souls, but when needs must…

“Actually, I met him because I needed help with a control issue for my zombies. You know how they obeyed Delancre instead of me? Marcus helped me out there – the control isn’t permanent. I can take it back at any time. If we do it at the right time, it could turn the tide of battle if half his troops suddenly start fighting against him.”

Daye flushed at the beginning of the question Tash had nearly raised. She really didn’t want to get into the nature of her involvement with Marcus. It was too personal and too troubling. *Good thing she’s not sensing anything now,* Daye thought to herself.

“Right, zombies... I’d heard something about that,” Daye said. “We’re going to need lots of reinforcements, though. Even with Delancre’s forces somewhat depleted. They are very skilled warriors. Which you, of course, know very well.” Daye laughed derisively. “Are we... Do you think an attack on the mansion is a good idea? It doesn’t seem to be a winning proposition.”

Tash shook her head. “Not as such. At this stage the idea is that we might try to draw Delancre out of the mansion, though perhaps a diversionary attack could be launched against the mansion to help out there… a sort of feint. I can regain control of the zombies there, and maybe trap Delancre’s troops in a pincer move. Hell, depending on how many he has left it might be enough to mop him up. But if not… then a retreat away from his stronghold would be in order, yes. And yes, reinforcements, definitely – we’re still looking into some options there. We have a few leads, and with any luck we can get together a good-sized force, just in case.”

Daye nodded. She considered Tash’s words carefully. A feint would not be likely to draw Delancre out, not unless he had good reason. Daye could think of something that would catch his interest, but she was reluctant to suggest it just yet.

“I... I have my magic as well,” Daye said. “I should be up and about in a couple of days, and I want... I need to be involved in this.”

“I know. That’s why I told you about it.”

“Do you think that we could get Delancre out of the mansion?” Daye mused. “Would he... would he make that kind of mistake? Would we be able to lead him into a trap?”

Tash shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe, if he got mad enough. Ryan seems to think that if Delancre sees him at the feint he might follow, but I’m not sure it’s enough. Right now our biggest problem is Alessa. She’s with Delancre – she has her own agenda for undermining him but now it’s working against us. Unless she can do something on the inside to stop him, all she’s doing now is giving him another support. I wish we could get word to her… nobody’s heard from her in days. She used to be able to get messages out, but now…”

Giving Daye’s hand a squeeze, Tash sat up a little straighter. “We just have to keep trying, and hope we can get word to her soon, or find a way to get her out. But after the other day… I’m afraid Delancre’s got that place sealed up tight.”

“Alessa?” Daye repeated. “Oh, Goddess... she’s still there? I can’t... Why? What could she possibly hope to accomplish? We can’t move against him if it would endanger her. That’s just crazy. She shouldn’t be there.”

“No, just as you shouldn’t have been there, and just as I had to be convinced I shouldn’t go back there…” Tash offered a smile to Daye, reaching out to brush away a tendril of red hair that had fallen across her face. “If anyone knows why Alessa is there, it has to be us, right? Trust me, we’re doing all we can, but at the moment none of us can get near the place without being detected. Have faith – she’s a smart woman. We can only hope she’ll keep her wits about her and get out when she can.”

Daye sighed. “Yes, you’re right, of course,” she said. “I just wish this could all be over... and I wish I could get out of this bed and help you.”

“You can, and you will. I promise. But right now you need to rest a little longer. Drew will kill me if I make you too tired.”

For a moment, Tash felt a pang of jealousy that Daye had a man as wonderful as Drew to look after her while she recovered, while Tash… *I have Onyx,* she said to herself firmly. Still, being in this room… She looked around, remembering the times she and Victor had snuggled together in this very bed, the times they’d fought, the times they’d cried together…

She let her bare hand trail along the edge of the bedhead, but it was simply cold metal – no images rushed out of it to assault her senses, to enfold her in relived memories. She let her fingers feel the texture of the steel, tracing the outlines of the pattern it had been twisted into.

Glancing down, she saw Daye looking up curiously at her. “Sorry, I just know that I won’t have much longer to be able to touch things without my gloves…”

“I understand... I can’t imagine...” Daye said. “Sometimes it would be nice just to be... normal, huh?”

Chuckling quietly, Tash bent to give Daye a gentle hug. “Sometimes, but I think normal would get boring after a while. Take care, let that gorgeous man of yours pamper you a bit longer, and I’ll pop by to see you again soon, okay?”

Daye laughed softly. “Well, it’s not like I have a choice about the pampering,” she said. “Please, do come by again. At least that way I’ll feel like I’m not completely out of the loop.”

Daye returned Tash’s hug and then settled back, feeling a bit tired actually, as her friend slipped quietly out of the room.

Kate and Daye Get Things Out in the Open

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 12:33.

Saturday, 2nd June 2007 – 7:40am – Apartment 203, Poplar Avenue

Daye lay in the bed in her small room, a book open in her lap. She was restless, eager to be up and about again, but Drew and Sam insisted she wait until Kate came today. If the other woman thought she was well enough then, and only then, would they allow her to get up for a short time. Daye could hardly stand to wait. She was still in turmoil over the revelations she'd had while speaking to Marcus, and the man was too much in her thoughts. When Drew had come back after the necromancer left, so eager and hopeful and slipped that engagement ring back on her finger, for just a moment it had felt more like a trap than anything else. Looking at the man she loved, though, Daye had pushed that thought far from her mind. Marrying Drew was what she wanted.

Daye sighed and glanced back down at the text before her. She had been alternating her waking moments between studying various spellbooks to strengthen her magic for the coming fight, reading and rereading the Dynos, and making up for lost time with Maia. Slowly, despite her misgivings, the darkness that had accompanied Daye from the Council house seemed to be lifting. The little girl who called her Mommy had a lot to do with that.

Kate suppressed an inward sigh as she stood outside the apartment where Daye and her family had been staying for the past few days since the rescue from the Watcher’s compound. Since that first morning, she had returned to attend to Amanda with an almost religious persistence and she had to admit that the woman was looking much better for it even if Kate was beginning to feel quite drained from the effort. Hopefully in a couple more days and she would be fighting fit again, then Kate could stop and rest herself; Gaia knew she needed it before the looming battle with Delancre arrived.

She forced a smile to her face as Drew opened the door. “Hi, how’s the patient this morning?” she asked as the man let her inside, trying to force an acceptable amount of cheerfulness into her tone. Kate still thought that Drew was possibly the biggest fool alive for taking Amanda back after everything that she’d done to him, but it wasn’t her place to say anything. It was quickly becoming her experience that people would make their mistakes no matter what sage advice was given to them.

Drew grinned at Kate. "I think she's really much better. She wanted to get up and move around this morning, but I told her she had to wait until you came by at least. I don't want her doing too much."

“That’s probably for the best,” agreed Kate though she couldn’t help but feel that Drew was treating Daye in the same infuriating manner that Galen had thought was best for her not so long back. It had driven her mad being so confined, having her every move monitored. She doubted that Amanda was dealing with her enforced bed rest any better; she was much like herself in that respect.

Kate left Drew in the kitchen as she made her way to Daye’s room. She raised her hand to the door and knocked gently. “Amanda?” she enquired softly, hoping that she might have fallen asleep again. “It’s Kate.”

Daye set the book aside at the sound of Kate's soft knock. She sat up straighter in the bed and tried for a smile. It was difficult. "Come in," Daye called out, steeling herself for the thick tension her friend would undoubtedly bring into the room with her.

Kate closed her eyes in recrimination as she heard the other woman’s voice. Somehow during the past three days, Kate had managed to catch Daye in some state of slumber while she performed her healings. If at any time it had appeared that she might awaken, Kate had simply mumbled a sleeping spell under her breath and the inevitable confrontation had been abated. It seemed she would not be so lucky today.

Closing the door behind her, Kate stepped inside. The first morning that she had attended to Amanda had cemented her uncertainty, every day she was finding it harder and harder to separate her feelings from her duty where Amanda was concerned. A large part of her couldn’t erase the gloating, smug image of the woman’s face as she’d stood in the middle of her apartment and laughed about her conquests over Kate, of her affair with Galen, of Emma’s death and of Kate’s miserable inadequacy to prevent either from taking place. Yet at the same time Kate couldn’t forget the woman who had been her friend for years, whose daughter had played hide and seek in her garden and eaten cookies in her kitchen.

Restraining the urge to sigh, Kate forced another of her weak smiles onto her face as she observed Amanda’s slightly less weary countenance. It was obvious that Drew was implementing her directions to the letter. Kate had left strict instructions on how Daye should be fed and how her wounds should be attended to in her absence, even leaving behind a few of her own special magical ointments and balms that would aid Daye in her recovery.

“How are you feeling this morning? Drew said you felt ready to get out and about.” Kate didn’t wait for a reply - lots of things might have changed in her life recently but her ability to babble when she was uneasy still remained. “That’s a good sign, you should probably try to get some fresh air – presuming I can convince Drew to open your gilded cage that is, overprotective doesn’t really cover it, but at least that shows he cares…”

Daye nodded slowly. Kate had certainly hit the nail on the head with that one. After what had happened the last time she'd managed to make it home to Drew, the man was even more overprotective. He was constantly poking his head into the room, checking to see if she needed anything. Daye thought he was really checking to make sure she hadn't disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"I know he cares," Daye began. She sighed. "I do feel a bit stifled. I worry too. How long will he go on this way? Will he ever feel comfortable; safe with me again?"

“You can’t exactly blame him, Amanda,” said Kate, the smallest amount of annoyance creeping into her tone. Just how did she expect Drew to react after everything that had happened? In her own, obviously worthless opinion, Daye was lucky to have him at all. “I mean, he’s probably just worried - about you, that is.”

Daye heard the edge in Kate's tone. She blushed. Of course, she hadn't meant to imply that Drew was in any way in the wrong. She just was so afraid that things would never be right between them again. "I know, I didn't mean..." Daye shook her head in defeat. "I just wish there was some way to make things right again - with everyone."

Kate averted her eyes from looking at Daye’s hopeful gaze. “Yes, well, I’m sure Drew will forgive you,” she said emotionlessly, “he’s a very understanding man after all.”

Daye felt the meaning behind Kate's evasive comment all too keenly. "Too understanding," Daye replied softly. "I know I don't deserve his forgiveness, Kate. I don't deserve anyone's. I would hate for you to believe that I take him lightly - the amazing person he is. I don't take any of you lightly. You risked your lives to get me away from Delancre. I know that. And I know all too well how little I deserve any loyalty or understanding from any of you."

Daye paused. She could feel the desperate tears gathering behind her eyes. "I hurt you all so very badly. I'm deeply ashamed of the things I've done. And I know full well that I did them."

Kate felt a chill creep under her skin at Daye’s words. She had successfully managed to avoid talking to Drew about any of this despite the number of times he’d tried to broach the subject. He’d wanted to know how the virus worked, how it had affected Daye’s behaviour and a whole host of other questions that Kate really hadn’t wanted to discuss. But it seemed that the subject wouldn’t just disappear no matter how much she wished it would.

“I just-”

Kate stopped abruptly and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself a little. The last thing she wanted to do was to lose her temper with a woman who was in no state to defend herself. She breathed in deeply before returning her focus to Daye. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. You… you slept with my husband, you knew how much it would hurt me, you knew… you knew how much I needed him, and you did it anyway. And what’s more you weren’t even sorry about it, you were happy to see me so miserable and pathetic and broken…” Kate’s hardened façade crumbled slightly and a dry sob escaped her lips before she had a chance to hold it back.

“So what do you want me to say, Amanda? That none of it matters? That it doesn’t still hurt? That I don’t lie next to Galen at night and imagine the two of you together?” Kate shook her head dismally. “You don’t know how much I wish I could be like Drew, I wish I could say that I forgive you and mean it. But I only have so much forgiveness left inside of me Daye, and I’m not sure it’s enough any more.”

Kate's words struck Daye like fists. She knew that her friend was right, but the idea of Kate not being in her life hurt more than she would have imagined. Not that she couldn't... didn't understand why Kate felt as she did. Daye had betrayed her so heinously. She'd been cruel and deliberately so.

"I... I don't know what to say or do, either," Daye admitted sadly. She held no hope for their friendship anymore, but she so desperately wanted to be able to make amends. "I did those things. I was cruel, and there's no excuse. There's no way I can even ask you to forgive me. I- you're like a sister to me. What I did was so... I'm sorry. I know that doesn't help. I know that it doesn't even really matter, but I want you to know. If there was any way I could go back and undo just one thing, this would be it."

"Kate, you never did anything to deserve this," Daye was crying openly now. She couldn't help herself. "You don't have to come here anymore. I can't imagine how much it hurts you. You've done more than you ever should have had to. I'm sorry - useless words, but I don't have any others."

Kate’s own tears rolled freely down her cheeks though she refused to acknowledge them. Daye’s words had been the sincere apology that she’d so longed for all those months ago but now that she had it… Kate wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Part of her just wanted to turn and walk out the room, the apartment, leave this whole place behind forever. Daye was right; she had done more than what she should have had to. She’d helped Drew nurse Daye back to health even though it had been so terribly hard to care for someone towards whom she had such mixed feelings.

But instead of leaving, Kate found herself sitting next to Daye on the bed and wrapping her arms around the sobbing woman comfortingly, shushing her quietly in an attempt to placate her tears. Several tears spilled from Kate’s eyes again as she rested her chin on Daye’s shoulder. They HAD been like sisters; Daye had always been the one person Kate had trusted so implicitly, the one friend she knew would never turn her back, and now all that had been taken away from them.

“I hate Delancre for what he’s done to us, all of us,” she said quietly, her tearful eyes growing dark with malice. Daye might want to take all the blame upon herself for what had happened, but Kate knew it would never have come about if it hadn’t been for the Hyde virus – and Delancre was responsible for that. Even mentioning his name ignited a black fire in Kate’s heart, one that wouldn’t be quelled until the First Elder had been made to pay for his actions.

Daye shuddered at the mention of Delancre's name. She was filled with both fear and revulsion. As much as she hated him, after what he'd done to her she was terrified of him.

"Oh, Kate, how can we even hope to stop him? I want to make him pay for what he's done, but I'm so afraid of him. I resisted him for so long, and in the end, he got what he wanted anyway. If we don't stop him, he'll take Maia from me, and he'll take everything else he wants as well; but he seems so powerful. How can we hope to win?”

Daye’s defeated tone only made Kate feel more determined. “We fight, like we always do,” said Kate simply, drawing back from Amanda’s embrace. “We’re not alone anymore, his own Watchers have changed their allegiance and I brought more than just a cure for Hyde back with me from England. If Delancre’s plan was to subdue any resistance then he’s failed miserably.” Kate took hold of Daye’s shoulders and held her firmly.

“And don’t you dare be afraid of him. Ambrose Delancre is a coward. He was too afraid to face us on equal ground so he did this to us, tore us apart, made us turn on one another.” Kate’s resolve faltered for a moment but she quickly shook her doubts aside. “The things he’s done; he HAS to pay. I won’t stand by and let him take Maia from you, or anything else. He’s done, do you hear me? He had his chance but now it’s over.”

Daye felt renewed hope at Kate's words, but even more so because for the first time in months she thought that perhaps she had a chance to rebuild with her friend. Daye smiled tremulously.

"Ok, I hear you, Kate," Daye said. "I- I'll try not to be afraid of him. I think, maybe, it's still too fresh. I've never felt so violated in my life, and I'm not just talking about what he did to my mind in the end. I mean, he violated me so completely, for so long. I trusted the man. He was almost like the father I'd never had, and even after what he did to Ryan I'd often try to justify his actions to myself. When I really saw him for what he was, when I saw all that he's done to me, I just felt so... stupid. He's used me for years. He's manipulated my whole life. And he turned me into something I never wanted to be."

“I know,” said Kate, her voice a little more gentle. “I felt the same when Serapis and Janus betrayed me, they’d both manipulated my life for such a long time and I hated them for it. I felt stupid and gullible, but most of all I felt angry for what they’d taken from me. But you CAN get your life back, Daye. Just look at everything that you have to fight for, Maia and Drew. You can’t give up, because I need everyone on that battlefield when the time comes, including you. And you don’t want to let me down again do you?”

Kate knew that last was a bit harsh but she couldn’t help it. She still felt the pain of Daye’s betrayal deeply even though she could momentarily redirect it upon Delancre. Right now she could funnel all that hurt and anger towards the First Elder, and that helped to some degree, but Kate wasn’t sure what she would be left with once this whole thing was over. If she survived.

Daye flushed at Kate's pointed words. "No, I'll do whatever you need me to. You're right. I have to stand up to him. That's what I thought I was doing at the mansion, but I obviously didn't put enough thought into that little plan."

Daye realised it was too much to hope for to think that Kate would easily get past what now stood between them. She still felt there was a chance now, though. She'd just have to work very hard to regain Kate's trust.

“No, you didn’t,” agreed Kate coolly, still feeling annoyed at the woman for making such a reckless move. “Not only did you put yourself in danger, but the rest of us too. I know you wanted to try and help and…” Kate shook her head, rising to her feet and leaving Daye alone on the bed.

“There are just ways of doing things; you know that, Amanda, I still can’t believe you’d be so damn irresponsible! You have no idea what has had to be done, the sacrifices that have been made. And look at yourself! Look at the state you’re in, look at what that man DID to you…”

Kate grimaced slightly, remembering those bruises on Daye’s thighs and the tenderness in her abdomen. Part of her wanted to talk about that, ask her friend what had happened and offer a compassionate shoulder to cry on when she confirmed her worse fears… but she just couldn’t be that person just yet. She couldn’t talk about Daye’s abuse while she still had those images of Amanda and her husband cavorting together in bed in her mind, it just wouldn’t work.

She shook her head sadly. “Look at the pain this has caused Drew. He was distraught, Amanda. And what about the rest of your family? What about Maia? You really have no idea, do you?”

Daye looked abashed. Her eyes darted to the door. Just a few feet away, Drew was probably out there worrying over her even now. She felt another rush of guilt at the thought.

"I was very stupid," Daye admitted. "I just wanted to... I thought if I could just find out what Delancre was up to, or... Maybe I was even naive enough to believe that I could do something miraculous and stop the man by myself. I wanted to try and make up for my behaviour. I wasn't thinking clearly. Marcus tried to talk me out of it, you know. He told me I'd never be able to pull it off. He was right."

Daye sighed. "Apparently, Mata Hari I am not. And I'm sorry that I endangered everyone else. I honestly never considered that. I," Daye's voice was suddenly small and hesitant. "I guess I actually thought no one would care. I thought you would all leave me to die. Maybe, in a way, that's what I wanted to happen."

“Do you really think that Drew would just let you go like that? He is so devoted to you; he would have found a way somehow. He begged for my help, he begged Marcus for his help too. Can you imagine how that must have felt?” Kate sighed wearily. “What does it matter now anyway? What’s done is done, there’s no changing the past.”

Daye laughed bitterly at those words. "Yeah, there's nothing I can do to undo any of it. Believe me, Kate, I do understand. I understand all too well that my actions, my decisions, have hurt so many people. Even when I thought I was doing the right thing, I only managed to make things worse."

Daye looked steadily at Kate, firming her resolve. "I'm done being stupid now, okay. And I'm done being weak. Delancre manipulated me. He's controlled me in some fashion for a long time. He was only able to because I was both of those things. I should have been smart enough to see him for what he really is and I should have been strong enough to resist that damn virus. I was neither. I promise you, I'll be better from now on. You may not trust me right now, but you all can depend on me."

“Good,” said Kate hollowly, not even attempting to contradict Daye’s belief that it was her own weakness that had allowed Hyde to affect her so strongly. If she wanted to make herself a martyr out of all this then she wouldn’t stop her. Normally Kate would have offered words of comfort but she just didn’t have any right now. She could supply Daye with a means to fight if it meant wrenching her out of this miserable melancholy, but apart from that she didn’t know what to say. Right now she had to focus on Delancre and everything else could wait.

“Well, I should probably be going. There’s a lot to organise right now.” Kate moved over to the door and opened it a touch, turning back to Amanda. “I’ll tell Drew that you’re well enough to get out of bed and I’ll see you tomorrow as usual.”

*Was that significant?* Daye wondered. She'd already told Kate she didn't have to keep coming by. Did the fact that she would be mean there was still some spark between them of the deep friendship they had shared? Could Daye dare to hope?

"You... I'd like that," she said. "Thank you, Kate."

daye talks to ryan after the rescue

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 13:53.

*** Saturday, June 2, 2007, 1 pm ***

*** Poplar Avenue ***

Maia scrambled down from the bed and hurried out of the room. Daye watched her go. Every time Maia was around, for however long she was, Daye managed to at least begin to feel normal again. It was amazing how simple and peaceful a child’s mind could be. Maia didn’t think about what had happened or fear what still could. She simply lived in the moment, happy to have her “Ma” back. Daye thought that perhaps they could all learn something about life from her precious little girl.

Ryan stuck his head in the room a couple of minutes after Maia had left. “Uhm, you doing okay?” he asked hesitantly. “You need anything? Hungry? Thirsty?”

Daye shook her head. “No, I’m fine,” she beckoned him inside. “You can come in and talk to me for a minute, though. If you’re not too busy right now.”

Ryan smiled. “Sure,” he said, slipping into the room. “I’ve been wanting to, you know, just to see how you’re doing. I mean, how you’re really feeling. I just didn’t want to…”

Ryan glanced back at the partially open door. “I didn’t want to intrude. You and Maia - and Drew.” A pained look came into his eyes. “I wanted to give you enough space to start to… work things out, I guess.”

Daye nodded. “And you didn’t know where you’d fit in, or if you would at all?”

Ryan shrugged. “I guess. You’ve made yourselves into a family. I’m not a part of that. I don’t know, I think Sam and Drew are still pretty uncomfortable around me now. Not that I blame them, ’cause after our previous encounters, I guess you’d say - well, they don’t have a lot of reason to welcome me with open arms.”

Daye waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Nonsense,” she said. “You, maybe more than anyone else, are the reason that I’m here now. If you hadn’t gone to my friends for help, if you hadn’t risked your own neck, if you hadn’t come after me, I’d be dead now. I’m sure Drew is grateful to you. I know that I am.”

“I didn’t do it so that you’d all feel indebted to me or something,” Ryan replied. “What was I supposed to do? Let Delancre kill you? Amanda… Daye…”

Ryan’s voice was suddenly even more hoarse. He reached out a hand and tenderly cupped Daye’s cheek. There was a wealth of emotion in his eyes. “I- I can’t help it. I love you. I still love you so damn much.”

Daye felt tears welling behind her eyes. She didn’t know what to say to that. She knew even before Ryan had said it that he still had feelings for her. She could even understand it. For him, the past few years were like a stasis period. The essential Ryan had become subjugated to the Nightwalker persona thanks to Delancre’s manipulations. For Ryan, that meant that now, when he was finally free, the past few years were more like a dream than reality. To him, his life had been on pause. So, why wouldn’t he feel the same way he had nearly nine years before, the way he had when they had been lovers?

Daye could understand Ryan’s feelings, but she couldn’t reciprocate them. She wasn’t the same person she’d been back then. Nearly a decade had changed her so much. She had put her love for Ryan behind her, mourned and healed and begun anew.

*What am I supposed to do about this?* she asked herself. *I don’t love him, not anymore. Not like that. I love Drew. I don’t need another man in my life confusing me. Goddess knows, I’m confused enough. Marcus; Drew; now Ryan. It’s just too much.*

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Ryan broke into her thoughts. “I told you before, when we were still in the mansion, I don’t expect anything from you. I love you, but that doesn’t mean you have to love me back. I just need you to know. It’s enough that you know. It has to be enough.”

Tears freely flowed down Daye’s cheeks and Ryan brushed them away gently with his thumb. He watched her, and in his eyes Daye could see the loss and regret that were at the core of him. She wanted to reach inside and take away his pain, to somehow make right all the things that Delancre had made wrong.

“He stole your life,” she whispered. “Ambrose Delancre stole your life. And he did it because of me. I’m so sorry for all the hurting you’ve done because of me. I wish I could take it all back.”

“No!” Ryan retorted fiercely. “No, I don’t want you to take it all back. If I’d never met you, then I would never have loved you. Do you think that’s what I would want? Do you think I’d be willing to give up the love we shared for anything? That’s crazy.”

“I’m sorry,” Daye replied. “Of course you wouldn’t want that. I would never want that either. I just… Goddess, I just hate this so much.”

Ryan still held her face in his hands. His fingers caressed her cheeks and he couldn’t help the longing he felt inside. Daye wasn’t his anymore. He knew that. He knew that he had no right to her, could make no claim, but in his heart she was still the woman he loved. He’d avoided her partly because he didn’t want to get in the way of her happiness with Andrew, but also because seeing them together hurt him so very much. He hated Drew. He couldn’t help it. The other man was decent, and Ryan could see that he was good for both Daye and Maia, but still he harbored a deep hatred. Drew had everything that Ryan himself wanted, everything that should have been his.

“I know, Daye,” Ryan said. He let his hands linger on her cheeks for another moment and then pulled away. Even so simple a touch caused him to ache for what he could never have. “This is very hard. This is why I’ve decided that after we take care of Delancre, I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? What do you mean? Where are you going to go?”

“I’ve decided to follow your advice,” Ryan answered. “I’m going to go back home, back to Ireland. I miss it very much. This place, this silicone jungle, it’s just not the same. I miss green trees and having life all around me.”

“I know what you mean,” Daye’s tone was wistful. “Sometimes I miss home so much. That’s why I… Oh, of course - I should have thought of it before.”

“Thought of what?” Ryan was bewildered.

“The cottage, my mother’s cottage. I had it repaired when I was in Ireland with Maia last year,” she replied, growing excited. “There’s no one living there now, though. It’s quiet and isolated. I think you’d like it there. Maia, she already loves it there. She spent the first months of her life there. Maybe… Do you think you might want to use it - to live in it - at least until you maybe figure something else out?”

Ryan was shocked by her offer. Daye had talked often of the house where she grew up, and of the small village nearby. He thought that it all sounded so wonderful. A little house in the Irish wilds, a place like his own little house. He had never thought to hope to find a place like that again, but what Daye was offering, it could be just perfect.

“Isolated?” he repeated. “A place of my own, off by itself, that’s what you mean, right?”

Daye nodded. “Yes, I thought maybe with all you’ve been through that you’d like to find a place to get your head together. I know how you feel about how you look. I thought you’d appreciate the chance to have some time truly to yourself. I think, after a while, you may want to re-enter the world, but I can understand that right now you’re not really ready for that.”

“You’re right,” Ryan smiled. “It sounds like just what I need. I’d love to stay there, Daye. Thank you for offering.”

“I just want you to be happy again, Ryan,” Daye said softly. “I want you to find something worth living for again. You’ve been lost for so long, and I just want you to be found.”

“And could Maia… Do you think maybe she could come visit me there?” Ryan asked hopefully.

“Of course, that’s another reason I suggested it,” Daye answered with a smile of her own. She cocked her head to one side and studied him thoughtfully. “What do you think of her? Maia, I mean?”

Ryan chuckled. “Are you kidding? She’s unbelievable. She almost makes all this worthwhile, you know. I keep thinking, if not for what happened with Delancre, then maybe Maia wouldn’t be here, so I can live with what he did to me. I mean, I wish - oh, sometimes I can’t stop wishing - you know. She was supposed to be mine.”

Ryan paused. He reached out to gently brush a stray curl from Daye’s cheek. “You were both supposed to be mine. I know I can’t have you. I accept that even if I don’t like it. At least, though, maybe I can still have a part of Maia. She’s so sweet and so pure. I want to be in her life.”

Daye forced the emotion choking her down once again. She had known that Ryan would fall in love with Maia. She hated to be reminded yet again of how much Delancre had taken from this man. “And you will be,” Daye promised. “She deserves to know all the people who love her, but none more than you. You’re her father, Ryan.”

Ryan nodded. “I know. It’s so incredible.”

Daye laughed softly. Then, unable to stop herself, she yawned.

Ryan frowned, stepping away from the bed. “You’re tired. I should let you get some rest.”

Daye smiled apologetically. “I guess I am getting a bit worn out. Maybe I should try and sleep some. Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Ryan began to back out of the room. “I’m fine. I want you to rest. You need to sleep as much as you can. It’ll help you heal.”

Daye nodded, growing suddenly very drowsy. She snuggled down in the bed and closed her eyes. She was asleep moments after Ryan slipped out of the room and shut the door.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Fri, 08/27/2004 - 15:25.

Friday, June 1st 2007
11:57 pm

Ellis had been sitting in the bar for hours. He had been drinking far too much, and he didn't care. Alessa. God, he'd kill her; as soon as he was sure she was all right, he'd kill her. He had spent too much time floating in a soothing drug haze, damn Mike, and in that time she had gone and became Delancre's whore. He hated her… Ellis gave a humorless chuckle. Who was he kidding? He loved her. She had infected his body with Hyde, but she had infected his mind and his heart with herself. He wondered what it would take to make her love him.

He laughed, pessimism flooding him. *If*, he said to himself. He quickly downed the last of his whisky and decided to head back home. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to forget their last time together.

He stumbled out into the street and began to stagger back to the hotel. He wasn’t too far, just a couple of blocks to get to a completely different kind of town. LA was a city of contrasts. He had just needed to get drunk in Alessa's part of the city; dangerous, non-human LA.

He was about to turn the corner when a group of men emerged from the shadows. There were five of them, a tough looking bunch. Ellis looked at them, trying to size them up and figured out they were human. He hadn’t recovered his demon empathy yet, but they definitely didn’t have the look of vampires and they looked too human to be demons. He tried to ignore them and walk past but one of them grabbed his arm and swung him around.

"Where you think your going, pal?" the man asked.

"I'm going home, you loser. Let go of me," Ellis slurred to him.

"I don't think you're going anywhere," another man said as he stepped forward, revealing a handgun.

"Oh, beautiful," Ellis muttered. "You have no idea who you guys are dealing with." Ellis laughed at them. He wanted to show confidence, but he was starting to feel a little afraid. He had left his own guns at the hotel; he hadn’t carried them since Mike had taken control of his life. This drinking expedition was the first thing he'd done on his own in many weeks.

"No, you have no idea who you are dealing with, you English bastard!" the man with the gun yelled at him, imitating his accent. He eyed the expensive cut of Ellis' jeans and the shine of his boots. This was just a pampered rich boy; a good catch, for sure.

Ellis attempted to break free of the first thug's grip and received a crushing blow to his stomach. He cried out and struggled to get free, alcohol dizziness suddenly leaving him. He didn’t want to fight them; he'd beaten too many people while infected and was afraid of losing control again, but this was stretching it too much. He struggled again and almost got free when the man with the gun hit him on the head with it, temporarily stunning him enough to fall to the ground.

"Get his wallet!" one of the men shouted.

They reached into the pockets of his jacket and fumbled to get his wallet. Ellis felt the groping hands and was sickened by it. He was pissed, and he leapt up with his fist ready, punching one of the men in the face and felling him.

"Fuck off!" Ellis hissed at the rest. Screw bloody remorse. He took a powerful swing at one of the men and knocked him out, his look of surprise so funny Ellis almost laughed. Another one came from behind and Ellis backhanded him and he went down too.

Ellis looked at the two other thugs who were slowly retreating. Their prey was no longer so tempting. He smiled at them and charged. They started to run and he grabbed the slower one and punched him across the face, knocking him out cold.

Ellis stood back and surveyed his damage. Just then, it hit him, he wasn’t in the least out of control. His head felt clear, all traces of drunkenness completely gone, and apart from a good headache, those thugs would be well in a couple of hours. For the first time it downed on him that the ritual had really worked, he hadn’t felt much different before then.

He looked at the fallen men and decided to get the hell out of there. The running one could still get back with reinforcements and he wouldn’t push his luck. Part of him wanted to just ramble around. There must be some demon hunter out there, terrorizing some poor demon, or vampires hunting their dinner. He felt good again, so in charge. But not now; he needed to get alone and absorb all of this.

He needed to think about Alessa too. What would he do? He couldn’t leave her in that mansion, with that man! Her friends believed her to be safe still, but she was infected and not in control of herself. He thought about the ritual those witches had performed on him and the rest of the infected. He had asked Mike to pay attention, but Ellis knew that neither he nor Mike could even attempt to understand it. He needed to talk to Mrs. Eldridge and ask her to perform it again for Alessa, or at least get in touch with the 'M&R' mages and explain the ritual to them.

He would have to talk to Mike about getting Alessa out of the mansion too. Another thing to talk to Mrs. Eldridge about. He knew they had snatched a couple of people from the mansion; that meant they knew their way inside.

Ellis shook his head and he hurried his pace. He knew that he was probably being quite naïve about this whole thing, but he had to try. Alessa may not be as safe as those people thought, and he wasn’t going to wait sitting for her to simply walk out of this trap she had gotten herself into.

Reassurances and Aliances

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sat, 08/28/2004 - 20:26.

Saturday, 2nd June 2007 - 2:00pm - Kate's House

Ellis parked his car in front of Mrs. Eldridge's house and took off his shades before approaching the door. The strong sun hurt his eyes, and he still bore a lingering headache after last night’s events. In fact, he had found it difficult to get to sleep after he’d gotten to his room, and had only done so after many hours of tossing and turning. Of course, he had overslept this morning as a consequence.

Putting the glasses in the inside pocket of his jacket, Ellis ran a hand through his hair and knocked. He just hoped this Kate witch was home and could help him. His growing apprehension for Alessa's well-being was going to make him crazy if he didn’t do something about it.

Down in the basement, sweat ran down Kate’s forehead as, with a loud grunt, she delivered another high roundhouse kick to the punchbag. It swung backwards against the force, only to fall into the path of Kate’s tightened fist as she executed a series of cross and forward jabs, pounding her flesh into the hard PVC bag with obvious aggression. She had stepped up her training regime in England under the tutelage of the Warriors’ Circle in preparation for the fight that lay ahead, and despite the events of the past few days she’d managed to maintain her vigorous focus. Whatever else, she was never short of motivation.

Kate imagined the punchbag was Daye. Not the weak and infirm Daye that lay in bed propped up by a stack of pillows, but the Daye that had fucked her husband a week after they’d buried their baby daughter, the Daye that had laughed and jeered and made her feel pathetic and worthless. Quite frequently the punchbag was Delancre, his face smug and self-satisfied as her friends turned on each other and gladly tore their lives apart.

She sent a flurry of punches into the bag with renewed ferocity, her hair coming loose from the elastic band that held it all back from her face as she spun on the ball of her foot and landed another roundhouse kick to the swinging bag. It felt good, this controlled act of aggression; it helped her to purge herself of the impotent rage that she felt inside, rage so pure and dark it was simply frightening. At least here she could channel that anger, give it focus and beat the crap out of that punchbag until her fists were sore.

The sound of the doorbell made Kate pause mid-kick, her knee bent back into her chest waiting the outward thrust that would complete the manoeuvre. The dull ring of the bell sounded again, longer this time and with a sense of impatience. Kate grabbed her towel from the back of the press-up bench, wiping at her perspiration-soaked brow as she ran up the stairs, into the kitchen and in the direction of the front door.

Kate was quite breathless as she removed the safety chain and pulled open the door. She recognised the man on the other side immediately; he had attended the ritual a few days ago as one of the victims of Hyde. He was Mike Coulter’s friend, and a friend of Alessa’s too she was led to believe. His name was…

“Ellis Longwood right?” Kate asked, still somewhat breathless as she pulled the door open further. The man looked troubled and restless and the inflamed glaze in his eyes had the unmistakable mark of a hangover. Normally Kate wouldn’t just invite a total stranger into her home, especially when she was alone in the house, but despite the young Mr. Longwood’s dishevelled appearance she felt no cause for alarm. She stepped aside, wiping at her face again with the towel.

“Please, come in.”

Ellis nodded and smiled slightly at the woman in front of him. He was surprised she remembered his name, they had just met a couple of days ago and not in the best of circumstances. She looked flushed and utterly charming in her exercise clothes and Ellis was relieved that he felt nothing towards her but the natural admiration for a beautiful woman. No all-consuming lust, no need to toss her on the ground and rip her clothes off; it was certainly liberating. Of course, his supernatural radar didn’t pick up any signals from her either, even knowing that she was a powerful witch. A blind spot he would have to get used to.

“Thank you, Mrs. Eldridge,” he said and entered the pleasant house. His eyes soon adjusted to the difference in lighting. He turned around to face her and wished he hadn’t put his shades away. Now that he was there, he felt outright naïve and self-conscious. Mike had told him that this Kate Eldridge was Alessa’s friend; but he didn’t know the extent of that friendship nor the way the two woman had parted. She may not want to help him; not if Alessa had behaved as badly as some of the other infected had, himself included.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I… well, I wanted to talk about Alessa,” he spluttered. It was better not to beat around the bush, there was little else he may be there about.

“Alessa?” asked Kate in confusion as she led the way into the living room, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead. She had thought at first that there might have been some problem with the draining spell, some kind of side effects that she’d not accounted for. Mr. Longwood’s statement therefore had given her a small measure of relief followed by worry at the mention of her friend.

Offering Ellis the couch to sit down, Kate perched herself upon the edge of one of the armchairs. “Have you heard something from her?”

“Mmm, no, not really,” Ellis answered, relieved to hear concern in the witch’s voice. “Actually, I had hoped to see her at the ritual the other day; I haven’t heard of her since… Well, it seems like forever, but it’s just been little more than a month.”

He shifted in his seat and massaged the bridge of his nose; it still pained him to have learnt of his lover’s actions from strangers. He had left the Eldridges’ house in a state of mild shock, and not only because of the realisation of his own actions, but from what he had been able to infer from their conversations.

“I’m planning to try and get Alessa out of the Council’s quarters, and she will need her cleansing afterwards.” Ellis looked at the woman’s eyes, and added, his voice turning hopeful even without his knowing, “I understand you entered the mansion to get some people out, I was hoping you could give me some hints about security, layouts… that kind of thing.”

“I really don’t think that would be a good idea, Mr. Longwood,” said Kate hastily. “We infiltrated the compound last time through a secret smuggler’s entrance which I’m sure by now Delancre must have discovered.” Kate sighed awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t know what Ellis Longwood’s relationship with Alessa amounted to but the look of impatient disquiet in his eyes and the tense poise of his body had the discernible air of a restless lover.

“You care about her a great deal don’t you?” said Kate gently, smiling supportively as Ellis frowned in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly as he held her gaze. “I care very much about Alessa myself, she’s a very dear friend and the last thing I want is for her to get hurt. Where Hyde is concerned you don’t have to worry; Alessa’s demonic half gives her a certain amount of power over the virus, it stops Hyde from taking control over her like it did with the others.”

Ellis ran a hand through his hair again, this time in a frustrated motion and he closed his eyes in defeat. He was relieved to hear about the solution regarding her infection, but he didn’t want to even consider not getting Alessa out of there… it was out of the question. He looked at Kate Eldridge again and the sympathetic look in her eyes made his mind up. She sounded as if she really cared about her friend.

"I care for her, yes. A great deal, as you said," he spoke. "That's why I can't stand the idea of her in there, with that… that man." Ellis spat the words, it hurt him to even think of Alessa in the arms of Delancre. "I don’t know what she was thinking when she went there, she certainly knew what she was getting into. There's no way she didn’t-" He stopped, noticing the sadness in Kate's eyes and he realised he was rambling. He smiled tightly, and his gaze softened. "But she's certainly stubborn, right?"

He stood up, no longer able to control himself, and paced back and forth. "You were there, Mrs. Eldridge. You sound as if you knew much more than I do… is there at least a way we can get in touch with her? Do you have any plans regarding Alessa?" He was sounding desperate, but he didn’t care. "Anything at all?"

Kate turned in her chair, watching the man with worry. She hoped that whatever strengths and qualities he possessed that he didn’t share Alessa’s headstrong nature, the last thing they needed was for him to try some reckless attempt at a rescue that would put both himself and Alessa in danger.

“Please, call me Kate,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the distraught man as he paced the length of her sitting room. “And yes, Alessa is stubborn and she knew exactly what she was getting into, but as foolish as it may sound she did this for us, for her friends and the people she loves – because she knew the importance of finding out Delancre’s plans. I’m not saying I agreed with her decision, Gaia knows I tried to talk her out of it enough times!” Kate sighed wearily, “The truth of the matter is she’s angry, quite rightly so, she knows what that man has done to her and she wants revenge.”

Kate shook her head remorsefully, although she knew that rescuing Alessa along with Amanda would have been damn as near impossible she still felt guilty that they hadn’t even tried. “We set up ways for Alessa to contact us if she needed help, it was the only kind of safety net that we could provide her with at the time but,” Kate lowered her gaze woefully as Ellis’ head snapped in her direction, “we haven’t heard from her for almost a week. With the increased security at the compound I think it would be dangerous for Alessa if we tried to force a contact with her.”

“But there is something…” Kate took a deep breath, fixing her gaze on Ellis Longwood. Mike Coulter had said if she or the other White Hats needed help they shouldn’t hesitate to ask. Kate didn’t know what resources Longwood Inc. had access to but it was worth a shot. After all, they needed all the help they could get right now.

“Delancre’s plans don’t just end with Alessa; he wants to take over the world, make himself a god. For the past few days my friends and I have been making plans for an attack, a final attack. We are gathering forces, as many as possible… and in all that confusion it would be the perfect time for Alessa to switch sides. I know it’s not a perfect plan but it’s the best I can offer right now. Anything else could get her killed if her deception was discovered.”

Ellis nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. A god? It sounded perfectly plausible, given the man's oversized ego. He knew Ambrose Delancre had the abilities and the ambition to try to pull such a stunt, and succeed. The witch was right, they had to put a final solution to this madness.

"Yes, I see your point. I don’t want to put Alessa in more danger than she already is," he said.

He paused, musing about her words, and then went on. "You mean the White Hats are planning a big attack? Against the Council?" He looked up at her startled gasp and smiled; obviously she wasn’t aware of his knowing about their organisation. "This is a little more ambitious than the attack on the Hyperion, isn’t it?"

“I see you’re a little more familiar with our accomplishments than I realised,” said Kate with a relieved smile. “I didn’t mean to appear condescending, but the White Hats have fallen under some bad critique of late, I wasn’t sure if it would colour your opinion of us.”

"Well, I guess you have Hyde to thank for that, don’t you? But yes, I'm well aware of your accomplishments. My father was quite interested in your group and Alessa talked highly of you, at least when she wasn’t infected." He remembered Alessa's bitterness towards the White Hats after her rescue, but it had been tainted with Hyde, he now realised.

"However, you say you are gathering forces? I can bring some good fighters to the attack - that is, if you are willing to accept us. The company can help with many other things apart from muscle, too." He was already counting how many of the Demon Police he could gather to the battle. They would be willing to fight, even if it wasn’t their usual kind of thing. This Council of late was doing too much damage to the demon population to be let to continue.

Kate smiled again; it was obvious that Ellis was willing to do anything that would help secure Alessa’s safety but she could also sense that he wanted the opportunity to get his own measure of revenge on the First Elder.

“Well of course,” she said amiably, “whatever help you or your company can provide would be gratefully received. We have a number of allies already, even those within the Watchers’ Council itself. I managed to secure the assistance of my former coven house but what we greatly lack is actual numbers.”

He nodded again, relieved that Kate was willing to accept his help. "I can bring around fifty fighters, maybe a little over that, it depends on when this is going to happen. It's not an impressive number, I know, but all of them are experienced hunters with a grudge against the Council." He smiled, a little restless. "We call ourselves the Demon Police, or DP for short. Not an imaginative name, is it? But we can be quite effective."

Kate nodded, rising to her feet and walking over to a small console table. A date book lay open and she glanced at the page header, wondering when indeed they would be ready to face Delancre. It would probably be a couple more days until the mana draining spell had completed its purpose and Hyde had been thoroughly eradicated from the infected hosts. Pushing aside her worries, Kate opened a drawer and removed a pad of paper and a pen.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you an exact time when we’ll be doing this, all I can do is let you know closer to the date. Things are still rather up in the air at the moment you see…” Kate held back a weary sigh, time was not on their side right now and every day they waited gave Delancre more opportunity to recover his forces. She scribbled down her phone number quickly and returned to Ellis.

“This is the best I can do right now,” she said, handing him the scrap of paper. “I know it isn’t much, I wish I could say more… Contact me if you have any questions and I’ll keep you updated to our progress.”

Kate could tell that Ellis was disappointed. As she passed him the piece of paper she held onto his hand, feeling the weight of anxiety and worry that surged through him. “You want to protect Alessa, I can understand that. But if you know her at all you will have realised that she’s much stronger than she appears and she’s smart too. Have faith, Ellis, have faith in Alessa and hold on to the feelings you have for her, because once this is over she’s going to need her friends to help her through.”

Ellis nodded and he looked away. He felt strangely vulnerable with this woman, as if she could just read his every thought, which was probably how it went. "I know, Alessa is headstrong and stubborn, but she's not stupid. It's just that-" he stopped, concern and jealousy raging through him.

He shook his head, he couldn’t let his personal feelings for the demoness put her in danger; and he had already told her he'd be there for her when she came back. He just didn’t know if she'd need him then. "I'm not very sure how things will go between us when this thing is over, though. We didn’t have what you would call a good start," he finished softly.

He looked down at Kate again, and smiled apologetically, trying to change the topic. "I will need a few days to gather my people, anyway. Just be sure to call if you need anything yourself, you have Mike's number. The company's resources are at the White Hats' disposal too."

“Thank you,” said Kate sincerely. She felt a momentary flash of hot rage and jealousy pulse through his body and she released his hand, not really wanting to feel any more.

Ellis was perhaps in love with Alessa she realised, enraged because she had taken it upon herself to continue in the role of Delancre’s mistress and because she’d had the chance to leave - to be free of him - and she’d refused it. Kate didn’t know how she could ease his pain on that score, or if it was really her place to try. She didn’t know him that well after all, and she knew even less about his relationship with Alessa. It would be remiss of her to offer him reassurances on Alessa’s behalf when she knew nothing of her feelings towards Ellis.

“I will call,” she promised him as they walked towards the door. “In the meantime you must gather your forces and be ready. Mr Longwood?” Kate called as the man crossed the threshold and made his way down the porch steps, “This may not mean much to you but I have a feeling… I have a feeling everything will work out just fine.”

"Please call me Ellis," he said, smiling up to her as she stood in the doorway. He knew she wasn’t just talking about the battle's outcome there. "And thank you, I guess I'll just have to make ‘ifs’ become ‘whens’," he said cryptically, but he guessed she knew his meaning too.

William and Monk Strike a Bargain

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 08/29/2004 - 19:30.

Sunday, 3rd June 2007 – 7:40am – Denny’s Restaurant, Downtown Los Angeles

William Travers sat awkwardly in the diner as he nursed his single cup of black coffee between his hands. He’d called the number that Alexander Richmond had supplied him with back in London and left no message when the line connected to a private message bank. His next step had been to come here three days later. Denny’s wasn’t a regular Watcher meeting spot but it had its uses. The First Elder might be watching their frequented bases but he would never deign to turn his attention to such an establishment. Will wondered whether the phrase ‘Denny’s Quality Eateries’ was one that Delancre would even allow in his vocabulary.

Draining his cup empty, Will sighed, leaning back into the rather uncomfortable booth. He wasn’t a man used to playing these kinds of spy games; it unnerved him somewhat to the point that his eyes wandered to the door every time it opened. His contact with the Ghost Squad, Douglass Anderson or ‘Monk’ as he was referred to, was late. William had been raised under the doctrine that all tardiness was a sign of imprudent contempt; he himself had been a good ten minutes early for this meeting. The five cups of strong coffee he’d consumed in that time were enough to turn even the most composed man into a jittery wreck – that could have undoubtedly been Monk’s ploy from the outset.

Tapping his fingers in a tight staccato on the Formica table, Will’s attention was once again directed towards the door as a broadly built man strode his way inside, his steely eyes quickly surveying the restaurant and its diners before he headed in Will’s direction.

As Monk scanned the room he saw the eldest son of the Travers family and headed towards him. Even if he hadn’t recognised the man by sight he stood out like a sore thumb; his woeful attempts to blend in with the other patrons only served to further distinguish him from the crowd. His casual attire seemed altogether too fine but even discounting the freshly pressed slacks and shirt, the young Mr Travers had the unmistakable air of a Watcher from the disconcerted squint in his eyes to the hard frown lines developing about his forehead.

Monk arrived at the booth where the man was sitting and gave a small nod which the man returned as he took a seat opposite before offering his hand.

Will stared at this man’s hand with an air of annoyance and wondering how he’d managed to single him out before shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you finally Mr…?”

“Monk, just call me Monk, I can’t use my real name and all that jazz being a spy and all.”

William cast a curious glance towards Douglas, scratching his jaw ponderously. “If you don’t mind… why Monk?”

Douglas gave a loud sigh, “Because when I had my head shaved I looked like a space monkey.” William Travers only just managed to hide the mild amusement on his face as Monk continued, “So now the introductions are out of the way let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Of course,” said Will with a nod of his head. “It has come to our attention at headquarters that you have recently had certain… dealings with the First Elder. I was hoping you might be able to confirm the nature of these transactions.”

Monk sighed and thought to himself for a moment. “For fuck’s sake, can’t you just ask a normal question instead of being polite all the dammed time? Our dealing was very simple, mate. We killed every last Slayer on the planet until his little girl, Ana, got the calling. Then he gave us some rather fucking powerful weapons but in return he killed some of our best men so we are rather pissed off about this fact. That answer your question, mate?”

Will’s face turned several shades paler at Monk’s reply. He knew that there had been a certain amount of suspicion attached to the ‘calling’ of Ms. Graziani but he’d never imagined… “Ah,” he said after a moment’s silence during which he hoped he had managed to control his disgust both with the man that sat opposite him and his ever increasing abhorrence for First Elder Delancre.

“This is a most unfortunate turn of events,” said Will, struggling to regain his momentum. Under normal Watchers’ Council procedure he would be duty bound to take Monk in for questioning pending arrest. He might be a member of the Ghosts but they were still employed by the Council and subject to their laws and disciplines. But then again these were certainly not ordinary circumstances and Will got the feeling that Monk wasn’t the kind of person to just surrender quietly.

“Mr… er, Monk, I’ll level with you. I contacted you because the First Elder has fallen under scrutiny for a series of related crimes, and we at the Council believe it is time for serious action to be taken.”

Monk gave a devilish grin that nearly all the Ghost Squad had become accustomed to. “Oh it’s only taken you this long to figure that out has it? First of all - mate - I can tell by the look on your face that the whole Slayer killing is big news for you, but yeah we did it and we did it for the greater good, because the end justifies the means and all that pish. But before you start squirming around on your morals, putting creases in that nicely pressed outfit of yours it’s time to face facts. The reason that you are here is because you want a trained squad of nasty bastards who kill without thinking and are really soddin’ good at it. Well, we are just the men for the job. Now we will help you take care of that toffee-nosed ponce Delancre once and for all but in return you have to promise something for us, something big and there’s no room for negotiation.”

Will’s features became even stonier at the man’s uncompromising tone. He wished that Richmond had mentioned at some point that this Monk was indeed the ‘nasty bastard’ that he’d described himself as. “And what would that be?”

Monk’s face got much more serious so much so that it seemed to radiate from him in waves. “His name is Dukal. He used to be a Watcher - one of the first actually and a really powerful mage to boot. Somehow during his studies into the occult he discovered the secret of immortality. Now this happened to piss off all the other mages in the land who opened a gate to hell or someplace and trapped him there for the past 4000 years.”

Monk fixed the son of Quentin Travers with a stern and unyielding glare. “Now you’re probably wondering why I give a shit, right? Well over the past 4000 years Dukal has made several attempts to escape his prison and while each effort failed it managed to get him that little bit closer to freedom. The last time Dukal’s portal was opened it took him hours to transcend into the mortal realm and during that time he allowed a rather powerful being to borrow his powers. Ever wondered what would happen if an immortal being became even more so? Well that’s what happened; the vampire Krispin got such a taste, and even when the power of Dukal left this plane of existence he was still strong enough to kill the Slayer. With his gift of immortality he could walk in the sun… as could his childer and his grandchilder. How many vampires do you think are related to him now? And once Dukal sets foot upon his earth the change is permanent.”

“Dukal is just a legend, the kind of stories you tell children so that they don’t stay out after dark,” scoffed Will, though he could tell by Monk’s face that he was deadly serious. “At any rate what is it that you want me to do about all this?”

“A children’s story? God, I thought you guys were smart! The Watchers have everything to do with this; we need soldiers for the coming battle.” Monk chuckled quietly, “Sorry, I always wanted to say that, but yeah we need bodies. Lots of them – soldiers, mages all sorts to help take down Dukal and his harbingers, and if you don’t believe me about the whole Dukal thing why don’t you ask a person who was there? I know two myself. So, now you know the terms of our deal. If you want my men, strong men with top notch equipment and some nice magic at our disposal fighting by your side - we can do a lot of damage I can tell you, Mr Travers. You know what an invaluable asset we would be to you, and you to us if you agree.”

“The Watchers’ Council always takes care of its own, Mr Monk,” said William firmly. He wasn’t much in the mood to make deals of this sort, not when he knew little about what he was getting involved in. He made a mental note to find out more about this Dukal before things went much further. For now he could easily pledge his support and then withdraw it later if need be. It wasn’t the action of a gentleman but then Will was quickly discovering that the word of a gentleman wasn’t worth much nowadays.

“I have contacts, both within the Council and of my own,” he said eventually. “If this Dukal is as dangerous as you have suggested then I’m sure they would be only too glad to help you defeat him. You and your Ghosts are not the only ones who fight for the greater good, after all.”

Monk nodded. “Then it’s a deal. I’m a bastard for what I do but it has to be done. Just name the time and place and we shall be there Mr. Travers.”

Daye sees Cole for the first time since...

Submitted by Firefly on Mon, 08/30/2004 - 12:51.

*** Sunday, June 3, 2007, 10 am ***
*** Poplar Avenue ***

Ryan sat on the sofa in the quiet living room of the apartment on Poplar Avenue, a book open in his hand. He wasn't really reading it, but he had wanted the appearance of being busy in case Daye awoke and came into the room. He didn't want her to think that he'd just been sitting there, alone, listening both for trouble and for the soothing sound of her breathing in the next room. Daye had found him doing just that the other morning, and she'd told him in no uncertain terms that it made her uncomfortable. I don't need a babysitter, she'd said. And I certainly don't need one who is actually listening to see if I'm still breathing or something. You need to relax, Ryan. You're making me nervous.

So here he sat, a book he had absolutely no interest in open, so that it at least looked like he was trying to relax. He hadn't wanted to tell Daye that it would be impossible to follow her suggestion. Anytime he accidentally let slip something about what his life had been like in the Watchers' Corps, Daye looked so distraught. Ryan hated to be the one to cause her pain. So, he'd pretend it was possible to simply let go and relax, but in truth, that was something a soldier as well trained and consumed as he had been was completely incapable of.

Ryan cocked his head to one side when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone approaching the front door. Since no one had buzzed the intercom to be let in from the street, Ryan assumed they were about to get a visit from one of the other residents of 1318 Poplar Avenue. Perhaps Natasha was feeling well enough to stop by now.

Rising to his feet, Ryan moved quietly over to the door and swung it open after only one quick, tentative knock.

Taken by surprise by Ryan’s rapid response, the boy standing outside the threshold of the apartment practically jumped right out of his shoes.

Cole’s nerves were already on edge, and having to introduce himself to the intimidating man known as Nightwalker did not help the situation any.

“Uh, hi,” the blonde boy said meekly as he shifted his feet uneasily from side to side. “I’m Cole. You probably don’t know who I am, but I ummm,” he paused for a moment, thinking how to best explain his relation to Amanda.

“I know Ms Blaise, and I was wondering if I could have a few minutes to speak with her… if she is feeling up to it, of course,” he added with a final gulp.

Ryan's mouth twisted into an annoyed grimace and he glowered down at the nervous teenage boy standing before him. *So, this is Cole,* Ryan thought to himself. The kid didn't look like much to speak of, but Ryan had heard about the boy's powerful magic, as well as about his attack on Daye.

"What do you want with Daye, kid?" Ryan asked gruffly. He wasn't about to let anyone waltz in and disturb her, and certainly not someone who'd done Daye harm in the recent past.

A large part of Cole urged him to just leave before the 6’7 monster got angrier than he already looked (which was pretty darn angry), but the boy, although shaking slightly, managed to keep his feet firmly planted.

“I came to apologize for some stuff that happened between us when we were both infected with the virus. See, Ms Blaise was helping me with some magic stuff and, well, one thing led to another and we ended up having a big argument.”

Cole decided it was best to end the anecdote with a hint of ambiguity in case Nightwalker didn’t know exactly how badly Cole had treated Amanda.

Ryan snorted. The kid had balls, he had to admit that. Considering the truth about that 'argument', it was a wonder Cole had even considered coming up her to try and see Daye now.

"Yeah, right, an argument," Ryan nodded. "Not an unprovoked and vicious attack, right?"

Ryan leaned forward, going for menacing as he waited for Cole to respond.

*So I guess he does know.* The boy cringed, taking a slight step back. However, in Cole’s defense, Daye had not been totally innocent in the whole matter either - of course, did he want to bring up Amanda’s transgressions to her beastly baby-sitter?

“Well, uhh, see... the virus, uhhh,” he stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Ryan!" Daye's raised voice cut through Cole's stammering and caused both of them to turn from the door and catch sight of her standing just within the entrance from the hallway to the living room.

She leaned slightly on the wall, but there was no mistaking the outrage on her face. She'd been up and moving around the apartment quite a bit today. She was even thinking of taking a walk outside, assuming she was allowed to. The three men staying with her had apparently sat down and come up with a plan to make her feel both helpless and stupid. Apparently Ryan's part in the plan was to make sure that none of her friends ever actually made it inside to talk to her.

"Step aside and let Cole in," Daye snapped. "You have no business giving him such a hard time."

Daye turned to Cole then, smiling and slowly moving towards where he still cowered in the doorway. "Come in, Cole, please."

The teen quickly stepped passed the silently raging tower that was Ryan, and into the apartment. *That was a close one,* he sighed with the relief of not having to deal with the demon any longer.

The respite was short-lived however, when his mind realized that Daye was standing there, waiting for him to say something.

“Hi Ms Blaise, I’m glad to see you’re doing better,” he said politely, a drastic change from the words he had used during their last encounter. It was awkward, seeing the woman in this setting.

Both knew what had gone on between them; the dark rites, black spells, the evil conjurings, but it was just so difficult for him to bring it up. Looking back, it seemed like it was two different people than those standing in the apartment right now.

Daye sighed. Part of her had expected this visit from Cole. She knew that there were things they needed to say to one another. The problem was that the boy was a vivid reminder of the things she had done while under the influence of the Hyde virus, the things she was so ashamed of doing. Looking at Cole, standing there so innocent and unsure, a part of her wanted to order him to go away and never to bother her again. It would be so much easier to pretend she hadn't done those things.

*That's not going to work, though,* Daye thought to herself.

"Thank you, Cole," Daye said, moving towards the sofa. "Would you like to have a seat?"

The boy accepted, sitting on the far end of the couch, seemingly as far from the older witch as possible. Crossing his arms, Cole began to nervously rub the lower part of his shoulders; the conversation was definitely going to be harder than anticipated.

“So, I figured we uhhh… should probably talk about, well, everything. I guess. Wow, that did sound as lame out loud as it did in my head?” he finished, allowing the two to share an awkward chuckle.

"Yes. Well," Daye began, "I guess we do have a thing or two to talk about, Cole. Although, if it helps at all, I feel just as uncomfortable with you right now as you apparently feel with me."

Daye smiled gently at the boy. "It's okay, really. I'm not mad at you or anything, just so you know. I'm just very, very sorry that I caught you up in my downfall, to be honest. It’s me who should be apologizing, not you. I had it all planned from the very beginning, even before we started the lessons: Lasarana’s Seal, stealing your magic, trying to open a portal.”

The boy’s downcast body language spoke volumes, conveying the obvious pain those particular memories evoked. He had hurt many people in the process of trying to execute his plan, and for what? He hadn’t even managed to bring Chance back. He told her the whole, tawdry tale in halting words, leaving nothing out.

“So yeah, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he finally trailed off lamely, letting his gaze sink to the floor in shame.

Daye's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't heard from anyone the lengths that Cole had gone to in order to gain power. She was honestly surprised, but she also felt very bad for Cole. He was really just a kid, and he had in no way been prepared for all that he'd gone through in the last few months. Unlike Daye, Cole had never had the kind of formal training or initiation into their world that the Watchers' Council provided to young people. Daye could hardly imagine how desperate he must have been to have done what he did.

"Oh, you poor, poor boy," Daye said, moving over to where he sat, looking so ashamed. She knelt down and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I can't begin to imagine how hard all of this has been on you. But you should know, you're not the only one who did things wrong. You're not the only one with reason to feel ashamed, Cole."

Daye reached out and placed a gentle hand on the boy's chin, lifting his face so that she could look him in the eye. "I was wrong to offer to train you. I was wrong to even begin to delve into the magic we worked together, but I was even more wrong to ask you to join me. I'm very ashamed of myself for my part in all this. I don't know why you did what you did, but I'm sorry for the part I played in it. And I mean it when I say that I'm not mad at you. I'm in no position to throw stones."

“We did what we did 'cause of the virus,” he said, trying his best to sound assured. However, deep down, he wasn’t totally convinced. Delancre’s sickness preyed upon desires, simply throwing down the boundaries of inhibition: but who knew, even if he hadn’t caught the disease, who’s to say he wouldn’t have done something drastic to bring his friend back?

“Even knowing about the Hyde virus doesn’t make it much easier, does it? After the things we’ve done, things… they just seem different.” Cole wasn’t clear on exactly what Amanda had been up to since their last encounter, but he couldn’t help but overhear some pretty racy stories regarding his former mistress; things she no doubt had an equally hard time forgetting.

Daye sighed. "Yeah, it's hard to live with some of the things I did," she admitted. "You have no idea - and I don't let myself off the hook just because of Hyde either. I know that the virus made it possible for me to do those things, but it didn't make me do any of them, you know?"

"I know it was me doing those things," Daye continued, moving to settle herself beside Cole on the sofa. "I imagine we all feel that way. It would be great if we could just say, 'Oh, well, it was the nasty magical virus that made me sleep with your husband', but that's not really accurate, is it?"

“No, it's not,” he said flatly in agreement. “Think with time, you, me, Alessa, the White Hats, do you think things can go back to the way they were?”

"Goddess, Cole, I really hope so," Daye replied wistfully. “I hope we can all get back to normal and get past these things we’ve done to one another. I’m going to try, at least. I’ve already started, trying to mend the broken relationships I have with my friends, and thinking about the future. What about you, Cole? What are you going to do when all of this is over?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Since my little stunt with the Seal it's been hard, controlling my magic.” He paused, thinking back momentarily to his brief meeting with Innana and Blake: magic without fear. “I’m scared, Amanda. Magic is such a big part of my life, and if that’s taken away…” The bittersweet smile made its way over his youthful lips as he turned to stare out the window. “Sindell, they offered me a place in their academy.”

“Sindell?” Daye repeated, surprised but pleased. “That’s… wonderful. It’s a great idea, really. A perfect solution for you. They can teach you so much. Cole, I’m very happy to hear it.”

Daye paused. Cole looked so uncertain. “You’re going to go, right? You’re going to join the Coven?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied timidly. “My life, I’ve been moving from place to place since I was like thirteen. But now, even if it's not conventional, my life is beginning to gain some form of stability. I’m starting to actually be happy here.” The teen let out a great sigh. “But, on the other hand: the Coven, it's an offer of a life time.”

Daye smiled. She took Cole’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Cole, there’s no reason why accepting the Coven’s offer should mean leaving your life here behind. It’ll be like going away to school. We’ll all still be here waiting for you when you’re done. We… we’re a family - despite what’s happened - and that’s how families work. You should go.”

"Yeah, so long as you guys can patch everything up after everything that happened," Cole said softly.

"Right, so long as we can. And we will, Cole. We can make things right because we have to. If we can't, I don't know what will happen. I just don't want to think about that, because if it happens, then that means we've lost. Delancre did all this to drive a wedge between us all, to take us out before we could make a stand against him. I don't want to see him succeed."

The young teen’s saddened expression changed briefly, a slight smile crossing his lips as he looked up at Daye. “If we could beat the Brotherhood, we can handle Delancre,” he said optimistically.

"We have to beat Delancre," Daye said. "It's never mattered more that we win."

Ana strikes at Marcus and Onyx

Submitted by Firefly on Mon, 08/30/2004 - 12:51.

*** Sunday, June 3, 2007, 4 pm ***
*** The Dalton Building ***

Four gargantuan demon soldiers, one arrogant mage, and a lovely, dark-haired teenage girl stood in a shadowed alleyway across the street from what had once been the most prestigious law firm on all of the West Coast. Now, the Wolfram and Hart building was a derelict shell of its former glory and technically, for the last few months, it had been the Dalton building. This was why the motley group was assembled there to watch the place. Lord Ambrose Delancre's sources had assured him that from time to time Marcus Dalton and his female companion made inspections of the property he now owned. They had yet to begin the arduous task of turning the place into a workable space, but that was really of no interest to Delancre. What did interest him was that the building offered a far less secure venue for attack than the damnable hotel Marcus now lived and worked out of. At least at the Dalton building there was a good chance that Ana and her team might actually get a shot at the man.

So, Ana Graziani watched the street through a small pair of binoculars as she had for the past three days. She was tired, hot and uncomfortable, but she had orders to maintain surveillance on the building for the time being. Delancre would alter his plans if Dalton didn't make an appearance soon. Of that Ana was sure, but for now she had a job to do, one her Lord had given to her personally. She would not disappoint him.

Marcus got out of his Rolls Royce and took a moment to look at the shell of his new home. While he did so, he took the time to curse First Elder Delancre for his meddlesome ways. Had it not been for the man’s insufferable meddling Marcus knew his building would be undergoing renovations about now. Instead he was here to check on the temporary wards Daye had placed over a couple of the lower floors.

While Marcus was looking the Dalton building Onyx took her usual place by his side, but in addition to Onyx there were a couple of other bodyguards. The two ‘men’ were actually Naevorian demons. Dark-skinned, they could be mistaken for African Americans, at least as long as their reptilian eyes remained hidden behind dark glasses.

Without a further glance at his new security personnel Marcus walked into the building and headed for the stairwell since the damaged electrics meant the elevators were out of commission.

Ana smiled to herself, lowering the binoculars. Dalton had finally arrived, with more than his usual entourage. She gave him credit for not being a complete fool, as he must at least be expecting some sort of retaliation for his interference in Lord Delancre's plans. He had brought along two guards. They appeared to be human on first glance, but since there were a few demon races that could pass as such, she wasn't going to act solely on assumption.

Ana turned to the mage, an arrogant but thoroughly competent man named Peter White. White had been lucky to escape with his life after the attack by Dalton during the raid to rescue Amanda. The man was as angry about that as Delancre himself and thus thirsty for a bit of his own revenge. As were the four demons that rounded out this little strike team. They were the last remaining litter mates of what had been a complement of nine Trenoil'ka demons. Delancre's "headhunters" had picked them all up as infants from a burrow in the African jungle. The mother had been killed in order to allow the Trenoil'ka to imprint upon a new authority figure, namely Lord Delancre himself.

They were massive creatures, bulging with muscle beneath their ebony skin. They had six-fingered hands and six-toed feet, both ending in long, curved, red claws. The Trenoil'ka were loyal and cunning, one of the best demon races to have been recruited into the Corps. These four, and their five late litter mates, had all been Squad leaders. Now that the Los Angeles force was so severely depleted, Ana had decided they would be of far better use serving her more directly. They were particularly suited to this job, as they felt a passionate personal hatred for the man responsible for the deaths of their brothers.

"All right, he's here," Ana spoke softly. "Here's what we'll do. I want you, Mikksa, and you, Tissko, to take down those extra guards. From this distance they appear to simply be human, but you know that there's a possibility they are more dangerous than that."

Ana glanced up at the cloudy sky. The day was dim and overcast, but there was still a fair amount of light, which would reveal too much to one of the infrequent passersby on the street. Until they were safely inside the building, something would have to be done about that.

"White," Ana turned to the mage. "I need you to do something to cover up the Trenoil'ka. I don't want screaming anarchy from someone who notices them."

White nodded and began rummaging through the black leather bag slung across his shoulders. Ana turned back to the others.

"Once we're inside, I'll use this to track them." Ana held up a small device. "It follows heat signatures. I don't know about Dalton's pet demoness, but cold fish or not, the necromancer is still a living being, so I'll be able to find him fairly quickly. From the word on the street there are no squatters left, so the largest heat signatures that are not any of us have to be him. And when we find him, well, we strike - hard and fast," Ana continued. "This is a wet work. There's no need for mercy. Don't pull any punches, but don't underestimate the enemy either. We know next to nothing about 'Onyx'. She's a demon of undisclosed species and origin, so take precautions. If we die in this attempt, that's fine as long as they do too."

The three demons nodded, feral smiles twisting their mouths. The mage finally stepped in between them and Ana. He raised his hands, throwing a green powder over them as he chanted in Latin. Moments later, four thuggish police officers stood in place of the demons.

Ana laughed appreciatively. White was as clever as he was haughty. "Good thinking," she murmured in approval.

White flashed the Slayer a smile that seemed to say, "Of course, what did you expect?"

Ana nodded once with conviction and then spun on her heel, making a quick gesture for the others to follow. They started to cross the mostly empty street and approached the building.

Marcus had descended four levels when Onyx paused and placed a hand on his arm. A gesture from him stopped the rest of his security team and he turned to face Onyx with a questioning look.

“Onyx?”

“I’m not sure…” She cocked her head to one side and reached out with her senses. She’d felt the sparkle of magic but in this place it was difficult to tell if she’d felt something important or merely the interplay of fading energies. Onyx shrugged. “It may just be the building.”

“On the other hand it may not.” Marcus looked around once more. They had another four floors to descend before they reached the first of Daye’s wards but only two lower was a pool. Marcus didn’t know what had once been contained in it but whatever it was had left ‘echoes’. Those echoes would make any spellcasting tricky unless the caster was accustomed to them. That would be to their advantage if Onyx’s premonition was more than just nerves. As well as which, Marcus honestly needed to check the residue to see if it had spread or altered in any way in response to Daye’s activities.

“We’ll go down two floors. Onyx can do a more active scan from there. Onyx, leave an alarm ward here.”

There were only two stairwells leading down. The alarm would have a fifty percent chance of alerting them to an interloper. Which, considering some of the previous inhabitants, was much better than nothing.

Onyx nodded. Whatever had alerted her hadn’t been below them. She made a quick pass with her hands and a silvery grey web appeared in the stairwell behind them before fading to nothing.

Once inside the building, Ana flipped on the palm-sized device and they began to follow its signal. Dalton and the others were slowly making their way down into the lower portions of the building. The place itself was disconcerting. It was unnaturally chilly and shadowed. There was a trace of some energy here that even Ana could sense and, when she took a moment to glance at White, she could see he was having to concentrate very hard to keep going.

"Are you all right?" Ana asked him, pausing before the door to a stairwell.

White nodded briefly. "I'll be okay," he replied. "There's a lot of energy here. Whatever used to be here - past inhabitants, past events - they've left traces. Lots of different things mixed together." White frowned at Ana. "I'm not sure how effective my magic will be in this place. I'm sorry."

Ana shrugged. "We'll make do with what we have."

They continued their descent, moving as quickly as they thought prudent to try and catch up with their prey.

Four levels down, they unknowingly passed through a web of energy. They hurried on, preparing to catch Dalton and his people unawares.

“Something just crossed the ward.” Onyx’s voice was low and sharp. Marcus looked up from the circular indentation of the pool. He was somewhat relieved to note it hadn’t changed in any way. “How many?”

“I’m not sure. A half dozen, perhaps more.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. There weren’t six mobile entities left in the upper floors; something from down here may have been moving around but it was unlikely. No, this was something more dangerous than his property inadvertently trying to kill him.

“Positions. Onyx, I want overkill on whatever comes through there.” Marcus pointed to the doorway. “You two,” he looked at his latest guards, “You’re to hold up anything Onyx doesn’t get. Don’t get killed but give me as much time as you can.” Marcus knew he needed that time. His meddling with The Divide in the attack on Delancre had had unforeseen consequences; summoning reinforcements was going to be out of the question. He had other means of killing, though.

Ana and her team crossed down two more floors and came to a doorway. The heat signatures indicated that Dalton's group had stopped on this floor for some reason. They waited just beyond the door, sitting ducks. Ana gestured to the others and with only a brief pause, threw open the door. The four Trenoil'ka charged through in the lead, with the mage behind and Ana bringing up the rear.

White was chanting softly, throwing a net of protection around the group, just in case. He had to struggle to maintain control on the magic. It was almost as if something was fighting actively to rip the spell from him. But the man was an experienced and powerful wizard; he managed to keep control of his magic and maintain the shield he had erected.
The first demon stepped through the door and Onyx released her magic. Razor sharp discs crystallized out of the air and whistled towards her target. Most of the discs hit an unseen barrier before they touched the lead Trenoil'ka, shattering in the process, but some got through, slicing through the demon like a proverbial hot knife. Then whatever barrier had protected it collapsed and the storm of discs tore Onyx’s target to bloody shreds.

Marcus took no notice of Onyx’s horrific spell nor the motion of his other guards to intercept their attackers. Instead, his attention was solely on his spell. In this place the walls, the floor, the very air they breathed was steeped in death and Marcus was more worried about drawing too much power rather than too little.

Onyx steadied herself while the Naevorians trampled the bloody scraps into the ground and tried to bottle up the attackers left shocked by the sudden bloody death that occurred in their midst.

The three remaining Trenoil'ka demons howled in rage and pain as their brother was brutally cut to ribbons by Onyx’s attack. As the Naevorians closed ranks the three demons fell upon them, their massive size and near-blind fury giving them an advantage.

The demons were hardly aware of their foes, rampaging as they attempted to move past and get at the woman whose spell had killed Mikksa. The battle between the demons was fast and furious. The Trenoil'ka suffered wounds, but they quickly overpowered Dalton's Naevorians, leaving their torn and bloody bodies behind as they headed for Onyx.

Ana followed in the wake of the Trenoil'ka. Onyx appeared, at this point, to be the greatest threat in the room, and the demoness was one of their true objectives. If at all possible Delancre wanted her taken alive, though. A fact Ana had felt it was better to keep from her crew until the best possible moment. Making Onyx her priority, Ana barked an order at the demons.

"Fall back," she shouted. "The demoness is mine! Find the necromancer."

The three demons appeared to hesitate for a moment, but their near-perfect conditioning kicked in and they reluctantly veered away from Onyx as Ana pushed through and came to stand face to face with her.

"Lord Delancre is very interested in you," Ana spat. "If I can bring you back alive, he'll be so grateful. And I live for my Lord's gratitude."

Ana struck then, with a flurry of blows.

Unable to worry about the fact his assistant had just engaged a young girl in hand to hand and what that probably implied, Marcus kept his attention firmly fixed on the three rampaging demons rapidly approaching him. Considering what they had done to his Naevorians he decided to release every scrap of energy he had gathered.

“I am the thief of eternity.” Marcus’ face turned into a death-like visage, obsidian eyes glinting in a bone white skull. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees as the combatants’ breath suddenly plumed in the air.

Ghostly blue fire swept from Marcus’ hands and through the remaining Trenoil'ka. They collapsed to the floor and in moments their bodies had mouldered away leaving only aged, bleached bones to mark their passing.

Onyx realized she was in a fight for her life. The young woman had to be a Slayer; it was the only explanation for her strength and speed. Not only that but she appeared to be very good Slayer.

It didn’t help that she was recovering from her first spell and Ana appeared to be taking no chances. A three strike combination caught Onyx’s face twice then landed what would have been a crippling blow to her solar plexus had she been remotely human, but thankfully Onyx shrugged off the pain and decided to even the odds a little.

Ana cursed as a long straight sword suddenly popped into existence in Onyx’s hand; adjusting to the changed dynamic cost her a couple of nicks on her hands and forearms and Ana stepped back for a moment.

Barely pausing for a breath, Ana quickly drew the twin blades on either side of her hips and faced off against Onyx once again. She had no idea how the others were faring, but she couldn't take the time to check. This attack was not going as well as she'd hoped and she was terrified that she might once again fail. That lent an air of desperation to her actions.

Ana evaded Onyx’s blade and lashed out, spinning towards the demoness with blades bare and managing to slice her opponent on one arm as she passed, leaving a long, nasty-looking cut that dripped rich, red blood. Without pause, Ana turned back and launched another attack, this time coming in low.

Meanwhile, Peter White watched in dawning horror as the necromancer brought his magic to bear on the three Trenoil'ka demons, leaving them a pile of bones. White summoned his energy for an attack, fighting down his growing certainty that they'd made a tactical error in coming here.

Marcus felt White’s stuttering attempt to gather energy and realized that the pool was doing exactly what he’d expected: throwing the enemy wizard completely off his stride. It was, Marcus decided, time to show the fool one of the advantages of modern weapons. The gun Marcus drew from his shoulder holster was not the low calibre silenced weapon he had taken into Delancre’s mansion. It was instead a lethally compact Glock and Marcus calmly focused on White.

The wizard blanched. He didn’t have the energy to shield himself from bullets and staring across the room into the still, black eyes of the man he had come to kill White’s anger was overwhelmed with fear.

The hollow boom of a firearm crashed through the empty room and Marcus’ shot smashed into White’s chest like the Hammer of God. Marcus pulled the gun down and fired again and Peter White, Watcher collapsed to the ground, bloody froth from his ruined lungs staining his lips.

Marcus swivelled to face Onyx and the Slayer and waited for a clear shot, all the while pulling energy from his surroundings.

The Slayer swung low as she approached the demoness and her lethal blade flew out, connecting just below and to the left of the rib cage. She smiled in satisfaction as she felt the knife plunge deep. She wrenched it back and followed the momentum of her attack through, coming to a stop just before Onyx. Ana held her blade up for a moment, noticing that the blood coating it now was a dark indigo. She’d managed to pierce whatever disguise the demoness wore.

"Hmmm, so you are quite more than you appear," Ana snarled viciously. As Onyx flew at her, Ana dodged to the left and struck out blindly, managing to catch the skin of the demoness on the temple. As she pulled her blade away there was a ripping sound.

When Ana glanced up she was horrified to see that the skin of Onyx's face had partially peeled away, hanging limply down to reveal an insectoid face beneath. Onyx was covered by a smooth black carapace. She had long, elegant looking mandibles and dark, inhuman eyes.

Ana couldn't help herself, she recoiled a step. At that moment, two resounding shots echoed in the room and she turned to see the necromancer facing her, his face a mask of fury as he aimed the gun in her direction. Ana was dismayed to see she was the only remaining survivor of this expedition.

*Discretion is still the better part of valour, my dear,* Delancre's words echoed in her head. *If anything should go wrong, I want you to use this to come home immediately. I cannot afford to lose you now.*

Ana reached a hand up to grasp the charm hanging from a cord at her throat as she warily eyed Marcus Dalton. Did she stand a chance against both him and the wounded demon behind her, or was it time to retreat?

Marcus smiled; he had a clear shot and Delancre was about to be deprived of his Slayer. He squeezed the trigger.

Ana saw the necromancer's finger tighten on the trigger. She tugged the charm from her neck with lightning reflexes and shouted the activation word. A piercing whine filled the room and she was surrounded by a dark purple light. Ana felt the teleportation spell take effect and the bullet passed through the space where her head had been only a nanosecond before.

“Goddamit!” Marcus screamed as the Slayer vanished moments before he would have killed her. He took in Onyx’s exposed face and the way she pressed a hand to her side and growled. “I’ll flay her soul from her body! I’ll condemn her to an eternity of decay and pain. I’ll... no, not her, not Delancre’s bitch. I’ve had enough of this ‘First Elder’. The Watchers will whisper about his torment for decades and piss themselves to think of crossing a Dalton!”

Marcus stood in white-faced anger after his pronouncement and his chest heaved for more than minute but eventually he got himself under control and he crossed to Onyx. His hand touched the wound by her side while his eyes catalogued the damage to her disguise.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“It’s a puncture,” was Onyx’s melodious reply. “Quick to heal. The rest,” Onyx couldn’t smile but Marcus knew that the set of those mandibles and the tilted head denoted humour, “is superficial.”

"Very well. I think we'll forego the rest of the inspection," he said, looking at the surrounding carnage.

Drew is angry at Daye for leaving the building.

Submitted by Firefly on Mon, 08/30/2004 - 12:53.

*** Sunday, June 3, 2007, 4:10 pm ***
*** Poplar Avenue ***

Daye slowly made her way up the front steps of the brownstone and slipped her key into the lock. She entered the building and shut the door tightly behind her. As she was turning around she heard the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. Daye turned around and her eyes widened when she saw Drew all but flying at her.

“Oh God, there you are,” his voice was full of relief. “Are you okay? Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine,” Daye replied, mystified. “I was out walking. I just… I needed some air. What are you so upset about?”

“When I got back from the house, you were gone,” Drew replied. “I didn’t know where you went. Sam and Maia came back from the park, and they didn’t know either. I have no idea where Ryan is still. I was panicked. I thought… I was afraid…”

Drew’s voice trailed off and his face flushed. “I, I didn’t know where you were.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Daye repeated, unable to keep the slightest bit of exasperation from her voice. She took hold of Drew’s arm and started up the stairs. If they had to play out a little drama, she’d prefer they not do it for all the other tenants of Poplar Avenue. Not that she was even sure who those tenants might be at this point.

“I just needed some air,” Daye continued as they arrived at the door to Tash’s old apartment. Drew didn’t say anything in reply. He reached out and turned the doorknob, gesturing for Daye to precede him inside. She could tell that he was struggling not to lose his temper.

*For Goddess’ sake, I wish he’d just… blow up or something,* Daye thought rebelliously. *I’m so tired of being coddled.*

“Sometimes it can get so stuffy in here,” Daye added.

Drew shot her a curious look. *What is she saying? Does she think I’m being too overprotective? Does she feel smothered? Damnit, what the hell does that mean?*

Drew struggled to control his growing annoyance. He’d been pacing the apartment, fear gnawing at him for over and hour, ever since Sam and Maia came back without Amanda. He hadn’t known where she’d gone, or even why. She hadn’t even left a note or anything. And on top of that, Drew wasn’t sure it was exactly safe for her to be walking around the city by herself. Delancre and his people were surely still out there somewhere and were probably interested in getting her back.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Daye said. She moved from the entryway towards the living room and dropped down onto the sofa. She sighed.

Drew watched Amanda, still without speaking. The urge to berate her was so strong. He’d been trying so hard to be patient and understanding, but it was all growing to be too much for him. “Well, I did worry,” he finally said, settling himself on the sofa next to her. “I was scared half to death. Don’t you realize it’s not safe for you to be wandering the streets by yourself? You’re still very weak. What if one of Delancre’s goons had shown up? What would you have done then?”

“I would have blasted him or them to next Tuesday,” Daye snapped. “Right in the middle of the street in broad daylight if necessary. I’m not that weak. I have my magic, you know. I can take care of myself.”

Drew recoiled from the sudden anger in Daye’s tone. He just couldn’t help himself. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted. “You can take care of yourself? You looked in the mirror lately? Delancre worked you over but good, and I don’t think you’re any match for him just now. It’s just stupid for you to go and put yourself in potential danger. What are you, a child? I thought you knew better. I thought you would take precautions now!”

“No, I’m not a child,” Daye shouted back at him. “I’m a grown woman! Maybe it’s time you realized that! I don’t need a babysitter or a dad. I can and will make decisions for myself. If you don’t like that - or can’t accept it - then maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Drew asked when her voice trailed off. “Maybe take a hike? Maybe get lost? Maybe get out? Is that what you were going to say? You want me to leave you alone? You want me to butt out while you go and do something stupid? Why? Why do you even want to? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Daye parroted, jumping to her feet. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You think I don’t know I was in over my head with Delancre? You think I’m not afraid of him? What are you, nuts? He scares the hell out of me. I don’t want to end up at his mercy again. I’m not stupid.”

Daye paused. “I’m afraid of him,” she admitted, her voice dropping. “I’m terrified, really.”

“Then why go out alone and risk getting caught?” Drew was bewildered. “You can’t think that he’s not still after you - after all of us, maybe. Knowing that, why would you go out alone in the middle of the day?”

“Because I just couldn’t stand staying in here and hiding anymore,” Daye replied bleakly. “I had to get out. I had to get away from this place… from…”

“Me?” Drew asked, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice.

Daye quickly shook her head. “No. Oh, Drew, honey, no.”

Daye moved over to where Drew still sat. She knelt down in front of him on the sofa, taking both his hands into her own. “It’s not you, not really.”

“Not really?” Drew frowned. “What does that mean exactly? It’s me, but not exactly me that you’re trying to get away from?”

Daye sighed. She shook her head. How could she possibly make him understand? It seemed that today everything she said he took as a personal affront. How could she explain to him the feeling she’d had the last few days, the feeling of being caught in some sort of trap?

“I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of explaining myself to you here,” Daye said. “It’s not that I’m trying to, or even want to, get away from you, Drew. I love you, and I know it’s hard to do right now, but you have to trust in that. And then, when you’ve managed to, you have to give me a little breathing room.”

“Breathing room?” Drew repeated. “What the hell does that mean? Am I suffocating you?”

Daye grimaced. “No. Wait, yes… a little, I guess,” she admitted. “I just feel like, you - and not just you, but Sam and Ryan too - you’re all here all the time, and someone is always asking if I’m okay or if I need something. I just feel a bit overwhelmed and I suppose, on some level, I resent this constant monitoring. It kind of feels like none of you trust me or that you don’t think I’m competent. Can you even understand how that makes me feel?”

“I want to,” Drew replied softly. “I want to understand exactly what you’re going through. I want to be able to help you, and I want to be there for you no matter what. I just… it’s hard for me too, you know?”

“I know,” Daye said. “It’s not like I don’t think about how hard this has been on you. I hate what’s happened between us. I would love for things to just go back to normal. But can’t you see, it’s not normal for you to constantly be waiting for me to screw things up again? I can’t - no, we can’t keep going on this way. I have to get out of that bed and go on with my life.”

“But… but…” Drew struggled. “But when you’re lying in that bed, I know exactly where you are and I know you’re safe.”

“And you know that I’m not betraying you again,” Daye added frankly. “I know you think about it. If you think about it half as much as I do, then I just don’t know how you continue to function.”

Daye paused. She slid up onto the couch beside Drew. They were touching, but just barely, her shoulder brushing his, their hands clasped. “I know that before you said you didn’t care, that you didn’t want to talk about it but Drew, I think maybe that’s a bad idea. This… what’s happened, it’s like there’s this wall between us, built of what I did and what you imagine I did. Maybe it’s worse, what you think. Maybe it’s not, but until we talk about it how can we ever hope to get past it?”

“How can we get past it either way?” Drew muttered. “Whether I know what you did, or I just guess, how can I stop worrying that it will happen again? I know in my head that it was the damn virus, but in my heart I can’t stop thinking about you with those other men. I can see them touching you whenever I close my eyes.”

*Them?* Drew thought. *If you were going to be brutally honest, then you’d admit that there’s only one man who’s haunting you. What is it about that damn necromancer that drives me so crazy? Why him? Because he’s like Amanda, a mage, and he can understand her world better than you could ever hope to? Because he’s rich and attractive and he risked his damn neck to save her? Because I know she was his lover, at least for some time, and now she wants to continue to be the man’s friend? Why? What makes Marcus Dalton different from the others? Whatever it is, it’s what makes me so uncomfortable with him, I’m sure. I don’t feel safe with him around.*

“I know, but I think we have to talk about this. Or at least that we need to do something… else,” Daye argued. “We can’t go on this way.”

“I know you’re right,” Drew sighed. “I don’t know what to do though. Except, I need to back off a bit. I trust you, Baby. I do. I love you, and I trust you.”

“Oh, Drew, I love you too,” Daye smiled tremulously. She released his hands and reached up to tenderly cup his face. Bending forward, Daye pressed her lips to his gently. Drew hesitantly put his arms around her. Daye relaxed into his embrace. She kissed him softly.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Daye promised. “I won’t betray your trust, not again.”

*I love him,* Daye told herself, as Drew pulled her close for another kiss. *I want him to be happy. I can be who he needs. Everything will work out just fine.*

Premonitions - Part Two

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Tue, 08/31/2004 - 14:02.

Monday, 4th June 2007 – 5:23am – Kate and Galen’s House

A quiet, restless mumble escaped Kate’s lips as she tossed and turned in her sleep. Galen lay by her side, a fraught expression etched into his weary face. He’d been trying to calm her for the past five minutes since she’d woken him with a fist flying into his stomach. He had no idea that Kate had such a strong right hook, but he’d certainly found out that fact the hard way.

“Shhhh, honey,” he soothed, smoothing her damp, tangled hair back from her face and gently stroking her forehead with the palm of his hand. “Darling, wake up,” he entreated her, his voice soft and yet impatient at the same time. This was starting to become something of a regular occurrence. Ever since they’d returned to Los Angeles Kate had been plagued with a series of vivid, consuming nightmares. Galen had hoped that tonight might be different. He’d stayed awake long after Kate had fallen asleep, lying silently by her side as though his watchful presence might somehow ward off her nightly terrors.

“Katy… baby, please,” Galen urged, feeling his own anxiety rising as Kate started mewling distressfully in her sleep like a little girl. He took hold of her face gently, holding her still and tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Kate, wake up…”

Kate stood at the edge of the high cliff face looking down into the valley below. There were people down there, hundreds of them. She could see them clearly, engaged in some fight to the death. Their war cries and screams of abject fear echoed loudly in all directions. The clang of swords clashing together, gunfire, even more screams… the sounds all mingled together into one, lost in the melee as the battle between good and evil played out, oblivious to the real iniquity that lurked not far away.

Kate could feel it like some ravenous beast, growing, surging, ready to pull itself out of the very earth in which all life and death is equally consumed. Across the city a dark, ominous effluvium of dense black seemed to devour the skies, turning day to night and blotting out the sun. Shadows fell across Kate’s face as she continued to stand at the very precipice of the cliff, seemingly thousands of feet above all humanity, so close to the sky that it felt as though, if she had wanted to, she could have reached out and plucked the very stars from the heavens.

Then… the entire world seemed to settle for one perfect moment. The fearful cries from below ceased, the battle paused as a terrible howl issued from deep underground. A bright white light appeared on the horizon, growing in intensity until a noiseless explosion shook the land. Kate shielded her eyes as the blinding light sent a shockwave of flesh-burning energy across the city, the force stirring up a powerful wind that ripped through Kate’s hair and forced her to kneel on the precipice or fall to her death.

Millions of screams pierced the silence as all life began to wither and die. Kate sat on the cliff and wept, tears rolling down her cheeks as all around her the earth was set ablaze in unholy fire.

“No…” sobbed Kate as she opened her eyes to see the sky filled with the souls of the dead. “No… it wasn’t supposed to be this way…”

Galen almost jumped out of his skin as Kate awoke sharply and without warning, sitting up so quickly that they almost bumped heads.

Kate clutched a hand over her pounding heart, breathing heavily as she inhaled a lungful of air and held it inside until it felt like she would burst. A cold sweat settled on her bare flesh, the delicate silk of her chemise clinging to her dampened skin making her feel clammy and chill even though the bedroom was quite warm.

“Honey, are you all right?” Galen asked gently, wrapping his arms around Kate and holding her close as she continued to gasp for air, glancing around the darkened room as though unfamiliar with her surroundings. He carefully cradled the back of her head against his shoulder, feeling her slim body trembling in his embrace as he held her tighter, rubbing her back in a soothing motion. “It’s okay, it was… it was just a dream,” he said in an attempt to calm her. “You’re safe now, I’m here… …it’s okay.”

Kate closed her eyes tightly as she held onto Galen, wrapping her arms secure around his warm, naked back, her fingers clutching at his broad shoulders. She didn’t even know why she felt so afraid. Her dream had felt so vivid at the time but even now those images were beginning to bleed into one another becoming undefined and obscure. In less than a minute Kate couldn’t remember what her dream had been about at all even though her skin was prickled with goosebumps and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end.

As her breathing returned to normal, Kate drew back from the close embrace, sighing deeply. Galen smiled weakly and leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. “Are you okay? My god, Kate, I’ve been trying to wake you for the past ten minutes. You were really beginning to scare me…”

Kate was silent as Galen continued to hold her, kissing her again softly. He looked down into her eyes. They were tired and heavy from lack of sleep but there was something else there too: fear and apprehension. At her continuing silence, he brushed his fingers soothingly through her hair, letting his hand slip around the back of her neck and running his fingers up into the roots of her hair in a gentle massage. “Are you sure you’re all right? You were saying the strangest things… it was really quite bizarre.”

“What?” Kate asked steadily, “what was I saying?”

Galen frowned, “I’m not sure, it sounded foreign, Ad initio…” he frowned a little more. “Something like, inter spem et metum… oh, I don’t know. There was something else but I can’t remember. It was really strange.” Galen looked at Kate thoughtfully, “Does that make any sense?”

“It’s Latin,” said Kate, her voice hesitant and confused. “From the beginning, between hope and fear…”

The two of them were silent for what felt like hours.

“You’re probably just tired… under stress,” offered Galen eventually, though his hand tightened around Kate’s protectively, squeezing her fingers as though they might suddenly be torn apart. It wasn’t the first time Kate had been subject to strange dreams. It was part of her ‘gift’ as she called it, but even so it unnerved him. It always unnerved him when it took ten minutes for him to wake her from her sleep.

“Maybe…” said Kate distantly. They shared another moment of quiet unease, both feeling apprehensive and wearied and neither of them wanting to vocalise their worst fears, just in case. Kate sighed, flopping back down into bed, Galen watched her as she lay, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes glancing around in silent thought.

“Do you think it… do you think it means something?” he asked finally, “about what’s going to happen with Delancre?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Kate, turning her gaze to her husband as he settled down in bed next to her, pulling the blankets around them snugly. “I don’t even remember what the dream was about,” she said in obvious frustration. “But when I think about what lies ahead of us I feel no fear, no apprehension; it’s like I know that we’re going to come through this, that we’re going to win. I can’t explain how, I just do. But these dreams… they just feel different, a different time or place… or something.”

“Maybe it was a premonition? Like a warning, something that might happen in the future,” suggested Galen worriedly, taking hold of Kate’s hand and drawing her into his arms. He held her close, rubbing her bare shoulder protectively.

“God, I hope not,” said Kate. She could barely remember anything definite from the dream but the way it had made her feel afterwards… she could still feel a chill beneath her skin at the memory. She rolled onto her stomach and tilted her head so that she could look up at her husband properly. He seemed about as worried and confused as she felt inside. “Do you really have to go into work today?”

“I’m afraid so,” Galen sighed, glancing at the bedside clock as though suddenly aware of the time. “I’ve had so much time off lately I think people are gonna start wondering if I still work there.” He looked down at his wife and smiled sadly. Her wide, dark blue eyes stared back and he gently stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I wish I didn’t have to though, I’d much rather spend the day with you.”

Kate closed her eyes at Galen’s touch, sighing in appreciation. “Then make love to me,” she whispered softly, opening her eyes and gazing at her husband. “Before you have to leave,” she said, arranging herself more comfortably in his arms. “We’ve been so busy since we came home with the rescue and Sindell and Hyde and I… I want to feel you close again like before. Things were so nice in England, so good …and I’ve missed that.”

Kate ran her hands across Galen’s warm chest in contemplation, tracing an invisible line down his lean body with her index finger. “Maybe my dreams mean something and maybe they don’t. All I know is that there will always be another evil to fight in this world. But amongst all that, I just need to feel that there’s a part of US that will always be constant and unchanging, even while everything around us is so crazy and uncontrollable. Do you think that you can you do that for me?”

Galen smiled softly, feeling that familiar warmth in his loins already beginning to spread throughout his body at Kate’s intimate touch. He understood her meaning. Sometimes what they shared together was the only thing that kept him sane and Kate was right, there would always be another demon or power-hungry megalomaniac that they would have to fight. But knowing that he had her in his life, that at the end of every day they could lay like this together… it somehow made everything else worth while.

He let his hands gently explore the soft curves of his wife as she arched her lithe body against his, the silky material of her slip feeling so good against his bare skin. Galen wrapped his arms around Kate and rolled her over in the bed so that she was beneath him. He smiled again before leaning in and kissing her deeply.

“That’s definitely something I can do,” he answered solemnly before sinking into Kate’s waiting embrace.

marcus wants in on the attack on delancre

Submitted by Firefly on Tue, 08/31/2004 - 14:38.

*** Monday, June 4, 2007, 1:45 pm ***
*** The Bibliophile ***

Daye sat at her desk, a half eaten bowl of soup at her elbow and the cool glow of the computer screen casting a bluish light on her face. She had papers scattered all over her desk and a pencil tucked behind her ear. There were two other unsharpened pencils stuck in her hair, chopstick style, holding the mass up in a haphazard knot. She wore no makeup, so the still-fading bruises on her face were very much evident because of her pale skin. Joshua had left the office only a couple of minutes before. He'd come in with the soup, clucking his tongue at her and refusing to leave until she ate at least half of it. Daye had complied, just to get the man out of her hair so that she could at least manage to make it through the inventory files before she had to get back to the Poplar apartment. She'd had a hell of a time convincing Drew to let her come in at all, and neither Sam nor Ryan had been on her side. They didn't understand her need to just get away for a little while, but when she'd argued that she needed some way to feel reconnected to her life all three men had reluctantly relented. She knew they all just wanted to help, that they were just worried about her and that they were all still more than a little afraid that she'd go off the deep end again, despite Kate's assurances that she was indeed completely free of the Hyde virus. Daye understood that Sam and Ryan and Drew, especially Drew, were just trying to help her, but she couldn't help feeling a bit stifled in the apartment.

*And maybe a little trapped,* Daye thought, feeling immediately guilty for it. *Ok, so it's wrong, but it's still true. I do feel sort of trapped. I can't stand to be 'fragile, handle with care' anymore. I need for just one person to treat me like a competent grown woman. Is that too much to ask?*

Marcus stepped into Bibliophile with only Onyx by his side; a situation the demon was not happy about, but despite Onyx’s vociferous protests Marcus had been firm. Anything capable of delaying another attack by the Slayer would be far too obvious even for an occult bookstore. Onyx’s abilities would suffice to give them sufficient warning and Marcus had a surprise or two on hand should Delancre make any more ill-advised attacks on his person.

Marcus hadn’t even known about The Bibliophile until he’d called Poplar Avenue to arrange another visit with Daye. Sam had informed him that she had returned to work and though it was obvious Daye’s brother had been reluctant to give him the location, Marcus had eventually persuaded him. Which brought him to Daye’s coffee shop-cum-occult bookstore. Unfortunately Daye wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Instead there was a man behind the counter. Marcus gave a mental shrug and approached him.

“Hi, I’m looking for Daye.”

Joshua glanced up from where he'd been carefully arranging freshly baked goodies on a cake platter on the counter. His eyebrows went up in surprise at the stranger's use of Miss Blaise's nickname. That was a bit familiar for someone who'd never set foot in the store before. Josh knew, or was at least mildly acquainted with all of Amanda's local friends, but this man with his cultured sounding voice and his very expensive looking clothes could have been someone she knew from before, like that poor Jimmy Han. Of course, he could also be some nefarious character who just knew enough to try and slip past the front guard.

"Daye?" Josh repeated quizzically. Do y' mean Miz Blaze?"

Josh watched the man carefully. He was generally a good judge of shady characters. Spending the better part of your youth riding with an infamous motorcycle gang tended to hone certain instincts. The feeling Josh got about this stranger wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy.

"What 'xactly is it y' be wantin' with the girl?" he continued suspiciously.

Marcus nodded. Under the circumstances he approved of the man’s caution even if it did discomfort him slightly. “I spoke to Sam. He said Miss Blaise had decided to spend some time here. Perhaps you could tell her Marcus is here?”

Josh nodded slowly. He would have to at least let her know the man was here. He glanced over Marcus' shoulder to the beautiful woman standing behind him. *And who is she?* he wondered.

Josh gestured for one of the half dozen part time waitpersons to come and cover the counter while he made his way to the back of the shop and slipped into Amanda's office. A couple of minutes later he reemerged, and came back to the counter where Marcus and Onyx waited.

"She's in her office," Josh said. He frowned. "She says it’ll be fine for you to go ahead and come back." Josh paused, glancing back at the office door with a worried expression. "It's that door back there," he said, "but she should be heading home soon, so, maybe you could keep your business... brief."

Josh knew he'd hear about it if this man took offence at his suggestion, but Amanda hadn't finished her soup, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she was still too pale. Josh just wanted her to get better and he didn't want anyone to upset her. This too handsome, too cool, black-clad stranger looked to be the upsetting type for sure.

“I’m sure it’ll take no longer than necessary,” Marcus replied with a bland smile. He walked past the counter and into Daye’s office, pausing briefly to leave Onyx outside the room.

Marcus settled into a chair with casual ease and spent a moment or two looking Daye over. The dark circles were much reduced and if her frame remained a touch gaunt from her ordeal it didn’t hold quite the same angularity it had on his previous visit.

“Well you’re not looking any worse,” he said with a slight smile

Daye smiled back, rolling her eyes. Here at least was the one person who seemed to understand that she didn't need to be smothered with caring. He had made light of her haggard appearance the last time she'd seen him too.

*Course, he has seen you looking better,* Daye thought wryly. *Much better.*

"Well, I feel good," she replied. "Maybe if you stay away a bit longer next time, I might even be able to manage something akin to 'Dalton standards' when next we meet.”

“I doubt it, not unless you have one of Onyx’s sisters squirreled away somewhere.” Marcus reached out and placed a hand on the outside of Daye’s soup bowl. Though it was still warm he refrained from mentioning the necessity of her eating. After all, the motion alone had probably made his point.

“So you never told me about your burgeoning business empire. Should Starbucks be worried?”

Daye noticed the gentle reminder that she had yet to finish her lunch. She dutifully lifted a spoonful of the still warm, and very delicious, cream soup to her lips. After she'd finished, she replaced the spoon and shot Marcus a "there, are you happy?" look.

"Starbucks? Please, as if I'd consider a heartless, carbon copy coffee house as any competition. The Bibliophile is so much more than a coffee shop. The restaurant was reviewed by the Los Angeles Times a couple of months ago, you know? I believe the words "hidden treasure" were used at least three times."

Daye grinned smugly. She was very proud of her shop and her restaurant. And she was inordinately grateful that Alicia Wyldling had diligently ensured that both ran smoothly while she'd been off having a Robert Louis Stevenson experience. “But seriously," Daye leaned forward and watched Marcus' reaction carefully, "do you like it? I mean, do you really like it?"

“Well, I haven’t had chance to try the enchanting food and I imagine after a review like that this particular treasure isn’t quite so hidden anymore. The ambience seems pretty welcoming despite your guard dog behind the counter and I’m sure knowing the owner will help with table reservations when I do eat here.”

Marcus paused and removed the amusement from his tone. “Yes, I like it.”

Daye was surprised at how relieved she was. Why did it matter to her whether or not Marcus liked The Bibliophile? Sure, he was a man of refined tastes, and sure, he was used to the very best, but why should it matter to her what he thought? She loved the place. Her family loved the place. Her friends loved it too. She'd never really cared one way or the other what anyone else thought. So, why now? Why him?

*He's a friend, and he... he thinks I'm competent,* Daye realized with more than a small amount of surprise. Marcus didn't treat her with kid gloves. He didn't act like she was going to break. That was refreshing. She found herself relaxing with him. It was a wonderfully liberating feeling.

"Good, that's good." Daye's smile was broad and genuine as she leaned back in her chair. Beside the bowl of soup, Josh had of course left a plate of his sinfully decadent chocolate cookies.

Daye lifted the plate. "However, I can't let you leave without sampling something."

Daye offered the cookies, hoping that her offer hadn't sounded as flirtatious or suggestive to Marcus as it had to her.

“Well, when you make that inviting an offer…” Marcus took one of the cookies and bit into it while simultaneously reminding himself that replying in such loaded tones was not the best way to maintain a friendship with Daye. Concealing his embarrassment behind a façade of silence Marcus finished the cookie and managed a smile. “Well, if the rest of the food is as good as those, I think I’ll make a booking before I go.”

Before Daye could reply to that Marcus sat forward and as he did so the mood in the room changed from slightly playful to something more serious. “I had an ulterior motive in coming to see you, actually.”

Daye pretended not to notice that Marcus had been flirting back at her. She didn't allow herself to dwell on the fact that she still found him attractive or that sometimes being with him caused that pleasant tingle in her body. She smiled as benignly as she could at his suddenly serious tone. "Ok, what's on your mind?"

“When we rescued you I used some rather powerful magic to cover our escape. Kate might have mentioned it. Anyway, it seems to have attracted the attention of Delancre.”

Sudden anger rolled through Marcus at the man’s arrogance but Marcus fought it down and continued. “He’s obviously decided I’m a threat to him and he sent the Slayer and a few demons to kill me.”

Daye's expression grew stormy. Delancre again. Always, everywhere she turned, that man was trying to interfere with her or with someone she cared about. She'd been scared when she'd first come to in the Poplar apartment. She'd been terrified by what Delancre had done to her. So afraid, that at first Daye had wondered if she would be able to strike back at him, but every time she heard more of what he'd done, or of what ramifications his interference had, her anger grew, swallowing up her fear.

"Delancre?!" Daye's hands curled into fists on her desk. "What did the bastard do to you? Are you all right?"

“Whoa!” Marcus reached out and grabbed Daye’s fists. “I’m fine. I was at the Dalton building, so I’d taken along some extra muscle. Onyx got hurt but she heals fast and should be fine in a day or so.” Marcus smiled viciously. “And if the Slayer had been a second slower her brains would have been spilled out on the floor.”

Daye forced herself to calm down. She nodded once. "Ok, right, then. As long as you're all right. I've had about all I can stomach of Delancre hurting the people I care about, you know." Daye didn't think twice about including Marcus in that group. She didn't realize that perhaps he would be surprised to be included.

"He's just a right bastard," she continued. "And one who's definitely grown far too confident. We're going to have to do something about him soon. Wait, you said he's targeting you because of something you did while you were rescuing me?" Daye paused, looking guilty. "That may not actually be the case. It may be... Well, he might be after Onyx. You might just be an 'acceptable loss'. I... You realize he knows it was Onyx who cured me of the virus, right? It was one of the things he managed to... that he... he knows."

Daye had obviously been struggling with the memory of Delancre's final violation, when he'd entered her mind and took what he wanted and she'd been helpless to stop him.

“It’s ok. There’s nothing you could have done.” *Except not go back.* Marcus shook off the unkind thought and instead let his hands gently stroke Daye’s in the hope that the simple contact would stop her from falling into despair.

“Don’t let him win, Daye. Just keep on with your life.” Marcus looked around the office then down at the paperwork Daye had been doing. “In fact, just like you are now. Anyway, like I said, Delancre thinks I’m a threat. Moreover, he thinks he can deal with me. I’d like to disabuse him of the notion. Your organization seems to have quite a few allies. I’d like to offer what assistance I may.”

Daye made herself concentrate on his words and not on the delicious feeling of his hands caressing her own. She was not going to pay any attention to the warmth his touch generated and she prayed he couldn't see the smoldering heat in her eyes.

"Allies," she repeated only slightly breathlessly. "Yes, we have allies - or rather, we're gathering them. There’ve been a couple of discussions. We’re mustering our forces and putting together a battle plan. The most important thing is timing. We need to strike soon, while Delancre’s forces are still… Well, you know, while they’re still depleted after what you did.”

Daye paused, realizing she was babbling a bit. "And you..." Daye glanced down at their joined hands for a split second and then raised her head, stifling a sigh. "You want in on it, I guess?"

Marcus saw the faint flare in Daye’s eyes and the breathy undertone to her words and gracefully disengaged his hands from hers. He had enjoyed that moment of contact entirely too much, especially in light of Daye’s reaction, a reaction which confused Marcus too. Daye was no longer infected by the virus and hadn’t been for some time. On top of which was the torture Delancre had subjected her to. She really ought not to be responding to his touch with the faint undertone of desire he had thought he saw and he certainly ought not to be feeling the pang of disappointment seeing that desire fade caused.

Covering his sudden emotional turmoil with a cough Marcus nodded. “Yes, I would like in. No strings. No prices. Just my honest assistance in seeing Delancre brought down.”

*That's not disappointment you're feeling,* Daye admonished herself when Marcus withdrew his hands from hers. She deliberately fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger again, a concrete reminder that she was committed to Drew and had no business feeling anything remotely like desire for another man.

"No strings, no prices?" Daye repeated, injecting a light tone into her voice to cover for her own inner confusion. "Are you sure about that? I'd hate to tarnish your heartless bastard reputation."

He laughed perhaps more heartily than the joke warranted but Marcus was grateful for the excuse. The atmosphere in the room had become far too tense. “I think my reputation can withstand a ‘freebie’ and anyway Delancre is a threat to me as well as to you. Anyone who cares to examine the matter would see nothing untoward in my actions.”

Daye smiled, relieved to have once again reined in her wayward thoughts and feelings. At least, Marcus had no way of knowing what she'd been thinking. She'd have to be sure to stay as far from him as possible if they were ever both in the same room as Kate or Tash, though.

"Ok, then, you're in," Daye agreed easily. "Goddess knows we can use all the help we can get. And although I have no memory of what happened when you carried me out of the mansion, I know your help was invaluable. That's about all Ryan would say on the subject anyway. I know that whatever you did is the reason we might now have a fighting chance against Delancre as well. Tash told me that."

“Oh…” Marcus blinked, as one his worries about the rescue vanished. Daye was, it seemed, unaware of just what he’d done at the mansion and though her opinion of those events should no more matter than Kate’s did, Marcus realized that it did.

“I used High Necromancy.” Marcus wondered what had possessed him to say that. If Daye didn’t know he saw no reason to enlighten her. “Kate was somewhat discomforted by the result.”

Daye recoiled a bit in shock at his sudden confession. He had no reason to explain himself to her and for a moment, she wished he hadn't. She was no expert on necromancy by any means, but she understood on the most basic level just what he was talking about. Marcus had delved into the nastiest, most dangerous areas of his art in order to save her. On the one hand, the thought made her highly uncomfortable, but on the other she was touched that he'd go to such lengths. She was really of two minds about it, but it didn't surprise her in the least that Kate would take issue. Her best friend had a rather more strict view of what was right and what was wrong, particularly when it came to magical practices.

One thing that did disturb Daye greatly was that she knew, had always known, that all magic came at a price. Even the white magic she and Kate practiced had a certain cost, albeit they only had to worry over herbs or stones, and the expended energy each and every spell took from them. Daye understood though that the greater the magic, the greater the price. So - what sort of price did a necromancer pay for the kind of power Marcus had mentioned?

"I-I appreciate you going to such lengths just for me," Daye said finally, a worried frown on her face. She wanted on some level to know exactly what sort of magic he'd used and what he'd had to do, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him. She would hate for Marcus to feel that she was judging him once again.

"Whatever you had to do," Daye continued with emphasis, “whatever, I'm thankful that you did it. I don't care what Kate thinks, or anyone else for that matter. You didn't have to help me. Hell, you said you wouldn't, so I'm really grateful to you."

Marcus focused on ignoring the tide of warmth that swept through him at Daye’s acceptance “Th-Thank you, Daye…” Marcus held himself in check before he embarrassed himself even more. An act of will forced down the urge to confess further and explain to Daye just what concessions he’d forced from her fiancé. *Another day,* he thought. *Hopefully another person.*

Daye waved a hand in the air dismissively. "You don't owe me any thanks," she said. "I owe you, and a lot more besides that."

"So, for starters," she glanced at her watch. She only had another hour or so before she'd promised Sam, Drew, and Ryan that she'd head back to the apartment. More than enough time. "How about we go out to the restaurant and I get Josh to make some of his magic?" she suggested, rising to her feet. "We can maybe try and come up with some ideas for how you can help us in this fight.”

Daye paused and a merry twinkle lit her eyes. “And the bonus is I can get you hooked by allowing you to sample some of my brilliant 'guard dog's' masterpieces. That way I have an excuse for inviting you to come around and see me now and again." Daye grinned. "So, what do you say?"

“Good idea.” Taking advantage of their various talents would require careful planning and Marcus had no desire to spring more surprises on Kate regarding his particular brand of magic.

He smiled at Daye, stood and offered her a hand. "Though I should warn you, Onyx is quite the cook and if your guard dog is that good she may very well want to pick his brain."

Daye took the proffered hand with a soft laugh and led Marcus back out of the office into the busy and brightly lit store.

Kate and Nikolai have Lunch - Part One

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Tue, 08/31/2004 - 15:06.

Monday, 4th June 2007 – 12:45pm – Nikolai’s Apartment Block

Kate’s hand hovered above the door in a moment of contemplation before she sent a loud knock echoing through the apartment. A few days had passed since the mana draining ritual had taken place and Kate knew that by now the Hyde virus should have been almost entirely purged from their systems. She remembered how Tash had cried on her shoulder that day, consumed with guilt over her actions and feeling the loss of her powers keenly. Knowing what she did about Koyla, Kate doubted that he would be any better.

Waiting patiently, she couldn’t help but feel a slight uneasy sensation deep inside the pit of her stomach. The last time she had stood at Nikolai’s door it had been in the aftermath of a fight with Galen and Damen had been the one to answer. Mostly the events of that night were a confused blur - high emotions and copious amounts of alcohol had managed to obscure some of the most distasteful moments - but standing here in the doorway Kate suddenly had the worst feeling of déjà vu. Part of her hoped that Koyla might not be home after all.

Nikolai sat in silence; gently stroking Tolstoy’s back as the cat purred quietly in his lap. A glass of water sat on the table next to him, knowing as he did that alcohol would simply teach his problems how to swim.

The past few days had been hell for him, as he was able to experience his actions and thoughts over the past few days as he might normally have. Also on the table next to him sat his pistol. It had been there for several days, and he hadn’t touched the blasted thing ever since he put it there. There just didn’t seem a reason to pick up a weapon that he doubted he could use.

Tolstoy’s head perked up at the sound of the knocking on the door. Nikolai sighed, slowly moving and dragging himself across the room in a half-limp state. Normally he would be picking up on the emotions of the person standing on the other side, but as had been the case for the past few days he felt nothing. The silence that he had craved ever since L’Than had merged with him now seemed abhorrent.

Opening the door he smiled as he saw Kate in the corridor. “Strassvichye, Katya. Kok vou pasovyache?” he said, standing aside to let her come in. Several moments later the young woman’s blank look registered at last, and he realised that he had been speaking in Russian again. “Sorry,” he apologised with a slight laugh. “Come in, how are you?”

Kate stepped inside with an air of trepidation, glancing at the couch where she faintly remembered sitting with Damen as he filled their empty glasses with vodka for the hundredth time.

"I just wish there was something I could say to help,” he said gently, giving her knee another short squeeze. “Something I could do to make you feel better.”

She shuddered as the memory washed over her, remembering the scent of Damen as he’d leaned in close, his warm, alcohol-infused breath upon her skin. Kate wrapped her arms around herself in a reassuring hug and forced herself to focus on Nikolai. He looked in a terrible state if she was being honest, like he had barely slept in the past few days. His hair was all mussed up and he was in desperate need of a shave.

“I’m okay,” she said quietly, still feeling that uneasy chill travelling down her spine from just standing in his apartment again; these memories were worse than any nightmare she might have had. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the door to Koyla’s bedroom, frowning as she remembered Damen wrapping a firm arm around her body, laughing at her drunken state as he led her inside.

“I just wanted to see how you were,” she said kindly as Nikolai led her towards the living area. “Have you slept at all since I saw you last?”

“Sort of,” Nikolai replied, thinking back over the past few days. He had slept, that much was certain. When exhaustion set in mostly, or when he used some form of sedative. But even then, never for very long. Part of him could understand Kate’s concern for him as a friend, while another part felt that he didn’t really deserve anything like this. If anything, the actions he’d performed were worthy of the harshest condemnation.

“I haven’t eaten much either, though I probably should. It’s just… I knew it would be bad, just not this bad. I keep thinking about all the things I’ve done, things that I can’t change even though I wish I could.”

“I know,” said Kate gently. She already knew the kind of things that Nikolai was talking about, the things he had done while he was back with the mob.

Though Kate wasn’t exactly well aquatinted with organised crime, Galen was. Many times she’d heard him curse the Gromyoko family; they were responsible for most of the illegal arms sales in the city and then there was the money laundering, drug trafficking... they seemed to have a hand in almost every illegal trade in Los Angeles. Kate had felt it was her duty to forewarn her husband of Nikolai’s involvement and thankfully, so far, Galen hadn’t been put in any position that might compromise either his job or his friendship.

“I know all about regrets, Koyla,” Kate said with a slight sigh. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes. At least in some way you can take comfort in the fact that you weren’t entirely responsible for you actions…” *Unlike me,* she thought dolefully.

Glancing around the apartment again, Kate fought to suppress another shudder. “Do you mind if we go somewhere else to talk?” she asked tentatively. She really didn’t want to remember anything more about her illicit night of drunken sex with Damen Kirk and being here was bringing it all to the forefront of her mind. “Perhaps we could get a bite to eat?”

Nikolai nodded. His empathic abilities might not be responsive but he could tell Kate was uncomfortable being in his apartment, and he was pretty sure he knew the cause. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.” Stopping just long enough to pick up his wallet before they headed out, he glanced quickly down to the end of the hall towards Simryn’s apartment, hoping that they could get past without being noticed. The last thing he needed was another awkward meeting with the woman.

“Bad memories,” Nikolai explained, breaking the silence as they reached Kate’s car. Sitting in the passenger seat, he stopped again in thought.

“I was ready to kill her,” he said softly, his thoughts turning to what everyone else must be going through. Whatever you could say, they all had to be going through hard times about now as well.

“Who? What are you talking about?” Kate asked in confusion as she started up the engine, put the car in gear and pulled out onto the main road.

“Tasha,” he said quietly. “When we were first planning to rescue Amanda… I planned on the possibility of having to kill her. Part of me secretly hoped, prayed for the excuse. All because she worked for that monster willingly and had information that could do us in. And Damen… what would I tell Reah?”

“Reah…” said Kate quietly to herself. Their last encounter hadn’t exactly been pretty though Kate hadn’t expected Reah to be all forgiveness and smiles. Nikolai might not have killed Damen with his own hands but he’d done as good as. If Reah had reacted badly to her and Damen having a one night stand she hated to think how she’d react to the news of his death, if she didn’t know already.

“I don’t know,” admitted Kate sadly as she checked her mirrors and flicked on the indicator before making a right turn. “The last time we spoke she pretty much wanted to kill me so I’m probably the last person to ask.” Kate felt guilty that neither of them had the courage to tell Reah that Damen was dead, not that Reah was the easiest person to talk to at the best of times but recently she’d been so aggressive it bordered on the point of irrational.

“As for Tash…” Kate shook her head, pressing hard on the accelerator as they zoomed up the highway. “You have to promise not to tell anyone,” she said firmly. At Nikolai’s nod she continued. “Tash was making plans… to overthrow Delancre once he’d taken control of the city… the world… she wanted it for herself. I’m pretty certain she would have killed us all if we’d gotten in her way. Maybe you shouldn’t feel so guilty on that score. Believe me, if we hadn’t found a cure things would have gotten a lot more ugly.”

Nikolai sat there in evident shock at the news. Tash had actually planned to take over the world? If she really had gone that far, she probably would have disposed of them sooner or later. It still didn’t make it any easier to deal with. “You’re kidding… the world?” For a moment he stopped to clear his throat and cough.

Finally stopping, he leaned back against the seat of the car. “Reah worries me,” he confessed. “We have a history of violence between us. Before my... merging, Lavrenti had a contract on me. She tried to kill me, but couldn’t. I repaid her by giving her a severe beating. The woman will probably kill me for real this time.”

“The past: like you said, it can’t be changed no matter how much we wish it could be. Damen Kirk shouldn’t be dead,” said Kate after a moment’s silence, her empty gaze staring at the grey asphalt.

“He wasn’t a very nice person, perhaps he was never given a chance…” she glanced at Koyla poignantly. “We all deserve a chance to prove our worth and for all his bad qualities I think Reah cared about him very much. I wish I could get through to her but I don’t think she’d accept my help, but Damen was your best friend, Koyla. You knew him better than anyone else. I think you need to hold on to that fact when you tell Reah the truth, and if we deserve nothing else in this world, we deserve the truth.”

Truth. There were some, he knew, who would say that there was really no such thing as the truth. L'Than was never one of them, but he might very well have been, had it not been for the merging. Only there were good qualities to Damen that he did know about. Kate didn't know it, but on more than one occasion he had witnessed the man give someone a sound thrashing for laying anything other than a gentle hand on a woman without her consent.

"It still won't be easy," he confessed, shaking his head. "Bozhemi, my mind is so screwed up at the moment it is almost beyond belief."

Kate pulled the car up to the sidewalk as they passed a little bistro not far back. Climbing out she deposited money in the meter before the two of them walked in the direction of the café.

“The things that are worth doing in life are never easy,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Believe me I know. There have been so many times lately where I’ve just wanted to curl up and pretend like the rest of the world didn’t exist. But I believe that we are stronger than that, and right now we need to stand together. We might have won the battle in rescuing Amanda and Tash, but there is still a war to be fought. None of us can afford to let our feelings come in the way of doing what is right.”

The most annoying thing about the conversation was the simple fact that Kate was right. They really couldn't let their feelings get in the way of stopping them, or even give up the fight. Especially with Comrade Ambrose Delancre still out there.

"Katya, I think you are quickly becoming the heart of our little group," he said sincerely. "It does not change, though, that we all will have much to atone for. For myself...” he sighed, he felt so guilty about his recent actions the weight of that burden was like a stone around his neck. “I don’t know, so much has happened I’m thinking that some time alone would help. There’s a place that L’Than knew about… a spiritual order of demons somewhere in India. I don’t know exactly where it is, I think actually finding the place is part of the journey. If I do…” he looked up at Kate with worried eyes. “Would you take care of Tolstoy for me? I don’t think he’d like to come with me on my spiritual journey.”

“You’re leaving?” asked Kate with an air of disappointment as they sat down at a small table overlooking the street. “But not soon surely?”

"Not soon, and hopefully not for long," Nikolai sighed again. "I intend to see Delancre taken care of beforehand, but... I'm lost, Katya. Something tells me that this order might be able to help me. I'm still lost in many ways, despite the 'finding'."

Kate nodded but she still felt disappointed even though she could understand that this was something that Nikolai felt like he had to do. “Then of course I’ll look after Tolstoy,” she said with a smile. “It’s been a while since I had a witch’s cat around; you might regret it.”

Nikolai could not resist the urge to laugh, and it felt like ages since he’d had a good release of laughter. "Thank you, I needed that. But Katya, how have you been? I know that this all must have been hard on you as well."

“Well you know how it is…” said Kate evasively, not really wanting to dredge up the past right now. “Galen and I are getting along much better, I think that’s helping just knowing that he’s there for me, that we have each other to depend on. I’ve really missed that.”

Nikolai reached across the table slowly to let his hand rest on hers reassuringly, wishing that he could still feel her emotions and know if that was a good or bad move. "That's good, that you have someone that close to you."

Exhaustion tried to catch up with him again, as he lost the battle to stifle a rather large and loud yawn. "I'm just glad that things are going well for you again. Perhaps one day, we can all manage to put our lives back together."

“Let’s hope so,” Kate smiled, observing her friend’s tired yawn. “You look tired, are you sure you’re up for this? I have hundreds of herbal remedies that will help you sleep if you need something. They taste like hell but they work like a charm.”

"I have to eat I guess,” he chuckled, “but something to help sleep would be nice. My tolerance to chamomile is rapidly increasing." Nikolai smiled meekly at her. "Thank you, Katya."

Kate smiled again, looking up from her menu. “What are friends for?”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Kaarin on Tue, 08/31/2004 - 18:14.

Monday, 4th June 2007 – 1:30pm – The Purple Flamingo Cafe

Nikolai remained silent as the pair ate, trying not to think about the terrible things that he had done. Getting out of the condo and being in the company of a friend were things that helped but it still didn’t make the pain go away. Nothing would.

“What is it?” Kate asked, observing Nikolai’s prolonged silence with suspicion. He had a look about him that was somewhere between reflective and depressed and at the same time deep in thought. It seemed like everyone would be caught like this for a while, she supposed. She just hoped that it wouldn’t interfere with them doing their job. They would need someone of Nikolai’s expertise when fighting Ambrose Delancre.

“It’s nothing,” Nikolai lied, sighing deeply. “Okay, there is something. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot over the past couple of days. The things I did, and didn’t do, and what we still have to face. How there comes a point when you realise that you’ve thrown away so much that you care about, and you can never recover it.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” said Kate as she continued to stab at the same piece of tofu with her fork until it was little more than a pile of whitish mush. “I think it depends on how much you care about something - or someone.” She looked up at Nikolai again. He was obviously deeply troubled and she wondered if maybe he wasn’t right about this spiritual journey he’d mentioned before. Koyla had been having trouble adapting to his new life even before Hyde came along and screwed it up some more; maybe some time alone or in the company of those like himself would help him to make the transition that he’d been struggling to achieve.

“Take Galen and I for example, if I were to keep count of the number of times we nearly didn’t make it over the past two years…” Kate sighed, offering Nikolai a consoling smile. “My point is that if something means enough to you it’s worth fighting for.” Observing her friend more closely, Kate frowned a little in contemplation. “This wouldn’t be anything to do with Alicia and that other woman you mentioned, would it?”

Nikolai was silent for a moment after the question before he looked up at Kate in surprise. He knew she was telepathic and could probably read his thoughts rather easily but sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t something else. Even with her powers he figured that Kate knew him well enough to predict his thoughts and moods, though this was one time that he was actually glad for it.

“At least in part. I’ve not been able to work up the courage to even speak to Alicia again after what happened, and Simryn… well, we’ve run into each other a few times, but nothing serious has happened again.” Shaking his head, Nikolai rested his face in his hands as he tried to think straight again. “It’s doubtful either of them would want anything to do with me any more, not that I blame them.”

“No…” said Kate after a moment, replacing her fork on the edge of her plate. “Well, Koyla, I did warn you to be honest about how you felt. I don’t know anything about this Simryn, but I can hardly blame Alicia for avoiding you. Being dumped for another woman isn’t exactly nice.”

"I don't even know how I feel!" Having the grace to look embarrassed at the edge in his voice, Nikolai wished he had been able to control himself better. "I'm, I'm sorry - I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I'm doing or feeling anymore."

Kate sat in silence for a few minutes, a little taken aback by Nikolai’s abrupt manner. Slowly her expression softened and she reached out her hand to cover his, gently stroking his fingers with her own. “You really are in a mess aren’t you? But you know, you’re not the only one getting hurt by all this. I don’t know this woman Simryn but I doubt she’s feeling any better; you said that the two of you shared this special connection after all.”

“Or it could just be the virus," he said softly, lowering his voice. It took everything within him not to just scream at the world, with how screwed up he was. It felt like his life was just falling apart half the time now, and the other half like it had never been all in one piece to begin with. "It also doesn't help that I feel bad over all this moping I've been doing. Like Natasha and Amanda aren't going to be suffering as well? There are just so many fences that need mending."

Kate removed her hand from Nikolai’s and looked down into her lap, her fingers twisting together awkwardly. Though she had been on the receiving end of the virus and its effects from many of her friends she still felt very much like an outsider. She had no idea how those that had been infected must be feeling right now, knowing that they had committed unspeakable acts, things that they would never have normally done and all because some pompous megalomaniac wanted to keep them distracted while he plotted to take over the world.

Looking up at Nikolai again, Kate sighed wearily, picking up her glass of iced tea and taking a long sip. “Tash and Daye have their own problems that they have to sort out,” she said, replacing the glass on the cardboard coaster, “just like you do. Just like we all do right now. I know that we have bigger problems than our own to face at the moment but afterwards… after all of this we’re going to have to try and pick up the pieces and salvage what we have left. You can take comfort in the fact that you’re not alone in this,” Kate shook her head dismally. “After Emma died… I did things, said things that really weren’t like me. I guess in a way it was like I was infected with some behaviour-altering virus too, only I could see everything that I was doing as plain as day. I could see myself tearing things apart, making wrong decisions and I knew… I knew it wasn’t me but I still felt powerless to stop.”

Kate picked up a paper napkin from the table and gently tore it into perfect strips between her fingers. For a moment she remembered sitting in that hospital cafeteria with Galen so many months ago, watching him as he shredded the wrapper from his sandwich into little pieces, trying to fill in time before finding out just how ill their little girl was. Kate sighed again, feeling thankful that Nikolai couldn’t sense her emotions right now; she doubted that her regrets and recriminations would help him at all.

“As for your feelings towards this… this Simryn?” Kate traced her finger up the edge of her glass, gathering up the coating of condensation onto her finger. “I’ve worked a lot on Hyde, while looking for a cure. How it works, what kinds of things it does to a host. It doesn’t inspire feelings of love and devotion, that much I know. Lust maybe, and I mean pure lust, uncontrollable and selfish feelings. If that is what you felt towards this woman then it was probably Hyde distorting your emotions, but if it was something deeper, there’s a good chance…” Kate smiled weakly at Nikolai, “maybe there is something there after all and perhaps in light of all the bad things that have happened you should at least try to find that out.”

Nikolai looked for the words to describe what he already knew to be the case, and continued to come up short. The situation was so strange that he really didn't know what to think, but Kate was right: if there was something deeper there, shouldn't he try to find out? "I- You're right, of course, but this virus is strange. There's something my 'guide' said a while ago: 'How ironic. You make your best progress when ill'."

Stopping for a moment, he reached for his water and drank deeply. It seemed so selfish to be focusing on his problems when so many others had problems of their own. It was another thing he'd been focusing on lately, the fact that much of his progress was finished during his finding.

"What you described sounds much like Hyde, but you don't feel it's wrong. We all have darker impulses, things that we keep under tight control - they're necessary for us to be good - and Hyde removed those barriers. You know, I think guilt is one of those barriers," Nikolai said, lost deep in his reflections. "We get trained from an early age to have certain attitudes about life and conduct, and to feel a certain way about some of our actions. Since we want to avoid that feeling, we refrain from the activity."

He couldn't resist the urge to laugh. "Listen to me, I sound like a crazy philosopher. Next I'll be telling you about how physical objects don't exist or something like that." Nikolai stopped and turned serious again, as he continued to reflect on what Kate had said. "I know that there certainly was lust and passion - and the feeling that we'd known each other before. Maybe there is nothing there after all."

“You sounds almost as though you hope that to be the case,” said Kate, sensing Nikolai’s reserve. “Lust and passion are wonderful things, powerful things. They draw us to those we find attractive, they make us crave the companionship, the closeness that you can only get with that other person.” Kate smiled supportively, replacing her hand over Nikolai’s.

“I’m no philosopher either, but I know about passion, and I know about love. I know that once you get hurt it’s twice as difficult to make that leap again. And you were hurt when Zoë and Ben were murdered; maybe it was easier to leave Alicia before something happened to her too, and it’s easier to convince yourself that what you and Simryn shared was nothing more than just sex… and I don’t know, perhaps it was. But love IS a leap, Koyla, a dangerous, painful leap. Because it means taking a chance on someone else, taking risks even though you know that in the process you might get hurt. But it’s a leap that cannot be denied. You must embrace it and take those risks willingly, open heartedly or you take another kind of risk. You risk being alone.”

Kate patted Nikolai’s hand gently, “Just tell me Koyla: what are you afraid of?”

Nikolai had to think long and hard on that question. That Kate could so readily pick up on the fact that he was afraid was astounding, even with... *Oh, that's right. Telepath - and she didn't have her mana drained.* How easy it was to forget the little things that one grew so accustomed to.

Though it was a very pertinent question. Just what was he afraid of?

"Hurting those close to me," he finally said softly. "My past already killed two people who were innocent and had nothing to do for it, in a quest for revenge. Then having returned to my old life... I'm afraid I can't get back out, that anyone close to me will become a target for 'retaliation'."

Nikolai found himself unable to make eye contact with Kate, letting his head drop some in shame. The worst part was that it wasn't an entirely irrational fear, but at the same time, it was reasonable that someone could still go after anyone he cared for, despite no public relationship. "Though really, at the moment at least, I'm not sure I can be in a relationship. If I don't even know how to be loyal to myself, how can I be loyal to someone else?"

“I think you’re the only one who can answer that question, Koyla,” said Kate thoughtfully. “I guess it’s just something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself - just don’t leave it too long,” she added with a smile. “The sooner you make a decision, whatever the outcome, the sooner you can start putting your life back together. You’re not a bad person, Koyla,” Kate said softly.

“I know that you’ve done some terrible things in your past and even recently, that part of you has tried to emerge again. But look at how far you’ve come. I know that L’Than and the merging have all contributed to this change in you, and you might think I’m crazy saying this but I believe in fate, Koyla. I believe that nothing happens in this world without reason or cause, even the bad things, the things that break our hearts. It all serves a purpose, a higher purpose, one that we can’t always see at the time. I believe, Koyla, that it is your destiny to do good, L’Than wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise. Looking back at the choices you’ve made, the path that has brought you here, I know that you have always acted out of what you felt, rage, passion, love, pain - it all comes from inside.”

Kate fixed Nikolai with a steady gaze, “I know that because I’ve seen it, inside here,” she gently touched the side of her friend’s temple. “Maybe you got Hyde because sometimes we have to relive the past to see how far we’ve evolved. The fact that you’re sitting here now, hurting over what you’ve done, is proof that you’re no longer the man you once were.”

Nikolai smiled. He would have to take time to reflect on a 'higher purpose'. Growing up in Communist Russia tended to rob one of looking for higher purpose, thanks to the officially atheist government. A good communist didn't worry about such things. The problem was that it made sense. "You've given me much to consider, Katya, and for that I thank you. You're probably right as well, but for now... for now, I think I need to get some rest."

“That’s probably a good idea,” agreed Kate, smiling at the waiter as he brought over their bill, setting it down on the table. They divided the check up between them and vacated their seats, walking back down the street towards where Kate had left the car.

“You do look tired,” she said as they piled into the automobile and she set off towards his apartment building. “I mean to say…” Kate said as they drove, keeping her focus fixed on the road ahead. “We’re meeting on Wednesday night at my place to go over the final stages of planning before we make our move on Delancre…”

Nikolai raised an eyebrow at Kate’s words. She made a possible attack on the First Elder sound as casual as going out for a slice of pizza.

“You said something before about having some… associates who might be able to help,” she continued, coming to a stop at a red light. “Maybe this is the reason you returned to your old life,” she said in speculation, “so that you could muster a force against Delancre.” Kate drove for a little while longer before she spoke again. “You don’t have to bring them with you when we meet but some idea of numbers would help. There are going to be a lot of people involved; we’re going to have to be more organised than usual.”

“That’s fine,” said Nikolai, suppressing a shudder at the thought of facing the hordes of demon soldiers that they’d seen that time they’d infiltrated the Watchers’ Council mansion. But despite that, Koyla was looking forward to finally getting a chance to strike at the First Elder, especially after everything that he’d done to them with the Hyde virus.

“Don’t worry about me, Katya,” he said after a moment, “my personal life might be screwed up at the moment but THIS I’m more than ready for.”

Kate smiled, glancing at her friend momentarily as they drove down a straight stretch of road on the way to his apartment. This was looking like it would be the biggest battle they had faced to date, even bigger than the Brotherhood. It was important that everyone was ready for what was to come.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Firefly on Tue, 08/31/2004 - 18:35.

*** June 4, 2007, 5:30 pm ***

*** The Bibliophile ***

Daye sat across from Alicia Wyldling at the small table on the patio outside The Bibliophile. Sandy, a full time waitress, had just brought them both glasses of iced tea. Alicia had called her this afternoon, and asked Daye to meet her at the shop. The older woman had carried the weight of running the business along with whatever personal demons Hyde had brought for her, and Daye couldn’t have appreciated Alicia’s help more. But now her friend seemed very troubled and Daye could only guess it was because of her. She’d done Alicia a disservice when she’d tried to rape Nikolai. Here was yet another person she owed an apology to.

The women sipped from their respective glasses and sat in silence. Daye felt the heavy weight of her guilt and her duty as she watched Alicia through her lowered lashes. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Alicia… Mrs. Wyldling,” Daye said, raising her head to meet the older woman’s gaze, “I want you to know, before we even begin to discuss the shop, I have to tell you: I’m so sorry. I don’t know, I can’t begin to explain myself. I have no excuse. What I did - what I tried to do to Nikolai - I’m so very sorry for it.”

Alicia’s eyes flashed briefly, but then she seemed to force herself to remain calm. “Yes, I’m sure you are,” she said coolly.

Daye nodded. “I really am,” she said. “I know it doesn’t mean much but I would love to go back and undo all the things that I’ve done to hurt the people I care about. You were my friend, and Nik - you and he had a relationship. I had no business interfering. I-I wasn’t thinking of him, or of you. I was just… I am sorry.”

Alicia laughed, a bitter and angry sound. "Yes, dear, you are all so sorry. So wonderfully humble, but what good does that do anyone? Virus or no virus you all acted completely selfishly and innocent people got trampled. I know, I was one of them. You - and Nikolai - you're like two peas in a pod, and I've had quite enough of the lot of you."

Daye was stunned by Alicia’s sudden outburst. She flushed with embarrassment. “I, uhm,” she stammered. “Well, I’m sor… er… All right. I didn’t mean to upset you. Maybe you’d rather not talk about it then.”

“Oh, whyever not?” Alicia’s voice dripped acid. “Why wouldn’t I want to talk about how you tried to rape the man I loved? Why wouldn’t I want to tell you about how he in turn cheated on me and then broke my heart without hardly a second thought? Don’t you want to hear all the details? You and Nik and your other friends, you think that you’re the victims of this virus, but you’re not. You were all instruments. People like me, the women who were waiting at home for the men that you were using so callously, we’re the real victims. And saying you’re sorry, telling me how much you regret the things you did, that doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t help me feel any less hurt. It doesn’t make me less furious.”

Daye said nothing. She was trying to process all of what Alicia had just said. “Nikolai... he did what?”

“Didn’t you know?” Alicia asked. “Don’t you White Hats keep up on the latest gossip? Ah, but you’ve been sort of out of touch for the last little while, haven’t you? Well, doesn’t matter now. Nikolai slept with some other woman, and then he decided that he wasn’t ‘good enough for me’, and we broke up. Isn’t that noble? Aren’t you impressed with his strength of character? He decided what was best for me and dumped me.”

Alicia’s mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t dare to assume that it was just an excuse to make himself feel better. No, not at all; screwing around and then telling me to take a powder, that was all selflessly for my benefit.”

“Oh, Alicia… I-I don’t know what to say,” Daye spoke softly. “I really didn’t know. I can’t believe... I’m surprised. I would never have expected Nik to… I don’t know…”

Alicia nodded, apparently past her outburst. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly what I expected either. I was so careful for so long not to get involved. Then you came along, and for the first time in a long time I let myself connect with people.” Alicia scowled. “I was right all along to keep my distance. It hurts too much to let people get close to you.”

Daye looked very sad. “Oh, Alicia, no. Don’t say that. You-you can’t mean that. Maybe it does hurt when things don’t work out the way you want them to, but we can’t disconnect from people. We can’t do that. You shouldn’t crawl back inside your shell just because someone screwed up. That would be more about punishing yourself than the person who hurt you.”

“I don’t care about that,” Alicia said coldly. “I don’t want to go through this again - not ever, do you understand? I trusted Nikolai. I let myself love him. He didn’t just sleep with some other woman, you know. He went back to his old life. He joined up with dangerous people and did stupid things and I stood by him. Even when he was struggling, I didn’t turn my back. And you can see where that got me. He turned around and broke it off with me - for my own good. How pathetic is that? How pathetic am I?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all,” Daye replied. She couldn’t help herself anymore. She reached across the table and took the older woman’s hand, offering support even if it was unwanted. “Alicia, it’s never a mistake to care about another person, no matter what happens. You didn’t do anything wrong, and what Nikolai did, well, honestly I don’t know him that well and I’m in no position to judge, but maybe you should… I don’t know. You shouldn’t hold on to this anger, though. You’re a good person. You need to let go and move on.”

“Let go and move on?” Alicia repeated incredulously. “Like your fiancé? Should I just roll over and play doormat to Nikolai the way Drew has with you?”

Daye shrank back from Alicia’s sharp words. She didn’t want to discuss Drew here. She didn’t want to think about what he was thinking or feeling. She certainly didn’t want any comparisons drawn. It was too close, too real. Drew had just glossed over everything she’d done and Daye suspected that like Alicia, he harbored real anger and resentment. The problem was, she didn’t know how to get him to talk to her. Any time she tried to bring up what had happened between them, he shut her down cold.

“You’re right, Alicia,” Daye said, backing down. “I’ve no business saying anything to you. You have every right to feel the way that you do. I-We should just figure out what we are going to do about the shop, I guess. I don’t imagine you want to continue working there, and I’m not entirely sure what plans the Council has for it after all of this anyway.”

Alicia nodded. She didn’t want to talk to Daye about anything personal. She barely wanted to speak to the woman at all, which made what she had to tell her next that much harder. “Yes, well, I actually happen to know exactly what the Council has planned.”

“You do?” Daye asked, surprised.

Alicia nodded. “Yes. Will Travers called me yesterday to discuss the Elders - well, what’s left of them. They’ve come to a decision about The Bibliophile and about you, and me as well.”

“What sort of decision?” Daye asked apprehensively. “What do they want to do?”

“You have to understand, of course, that right now the Council is in a bit of a shambles,” Alicia began. Her voice was cool and professional, but Daye could see that her hands were clenched into fists. “Delancre was our leader. What’s happened here, what’s still happening, well, it’s bound to have far reaching effects on us all. Everything the First Elder touched over at least the last five years is suspect. And the Elder’s Council - well, there isn’t really one now, is there? They elected him, after all. Unanimously. They are at fault for this terrible series of events.”

“Delancre was at fault,” Daye said firmly. “He fooled everyone. None of the Elders, none of the Watchers, should feel to blame for what he did. We were all duped.”

Alicia raised an eyebrow at Daye’s fierce tone. “You seem to be very passionate on that point, Amanda,” Alicia said. She sighed and shook her head. “I guess I was wrong before. You were a victim in this too. I don’t suppose I can even begin to understand how you feel.”

“Or how Nikolai feels,” Daye suggested softly, unsure if it was the right thing to do.

Alicia’s back stiffened and her face became grim. “Maybe not, but he hurt me very badly, and I don’t want to try and understand how he feels. I’ve been understanding for far too long. I’ll offer you sympathy, Daye. I can’t offer it to him.”

Daye nodded. She hated to think that her friend had been so badly used in the course of this whole chaotic mess. She didn’t know Nikolai well, but she did know what it was like to struggle for control while the Hyde virus ravaged you. Just as she knew how hard the guilt was to bear once you were freed from its influence. So, she could feel for both of them, but she didn’t want to alienate Alicia any more. Whatever was to happen between the woman and Nikolai now was entirely between them. “That’s your right,” Daye said, no censure in her tone. “And I appreciate your sympathy. I regret every moment of the time when I was ill.”

*Not every moment,* a small voice inside of her said. *You don’t regret Marcus.*

Daye did not acknowledge that thought. “Please, Alicia, go on,” she said. “Tell me what has been decided about the shop.”

“Well, the remaining Elders, the ones that haven’t yet resigned in shame, are working with Sindell to try and ferret out anyone with ties to Delancre and his schemes.” Alicia looked slightly overwhelmed. “You can’t imagine how many Watchers we’re talking about here, Daye,” she said. “I fear we shall be as decimated by this as we were by the Purge.”

Daye didn’t respond. She waited for Alicia to get back on track.

“So, as I said before, Will called me,” Alicia continued. “I think perhaps he’ll end up leading the Council when all of this is done with. He doesn’t feel prepared, but he led the movement to stop Delancre and most of the remaining Watchers feel he’s the most trustworthy man around now, not to mention he’s established a good rapport with the Sindell witches… and with you and your friends too.”

Alicia paused. “That’s one thing you should know: Will wants to be sure that we keep our relationship with you on good footing. That’s why he’s decided to keep the lease on the mansion.”

“You… you’re going to keep the mansion?” Daye asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, it’s going to be the site of the Los Angeles Field Headquarters,” Alicia replied. “Will feels a permanent presence here on the West Coast of the United States is long overdue. I, for one, can’t understand why we haven’t had a bigger role here since the Sunnydale thing. Or what happened with that Vampire Champion either. Although, I suppose that may be Delancre’s influence as well.”

“Yes, I can see the value in having Watchers based right here in L.A. Although I suppose it sort of makes The Bibliophile obsolete.”

“I suppose so,” Alicia agreed.

“Then… do you think they’re going to close it down?” Daye asked. She felt very sad at the thought. The Bibliophile was her baby. She’d built it up from a small corner bookstore to the thriving enterprise it was today. It had been used time and again as a base of operations for her and her friends. It was a welcoming home away from home, and Daye would hate to lose it, but it really wasn’t hers, so she knew she had no say in the matter.

“No, that’s not what we’re planning to do,” Alicia replied. She leaned over in her seat and lifted the attaché case she’d been carrying when she arrived for lunch. She pushed her plate to one side and flipped open the case, pulling out a stack of papers. “That’s why I’ve brought these along. The lawyers drew all this up a few days ago.”

Daye watched Alicia begin to flip through things and initial in various places. She didn’t say anything. She had no idea what was going on.

“Ok, I’ve been given power of attorney in this instance to represent the interests of the Watchers’ Council,” Alicia finally said. She smiled softly at Daye. “We all feel terrible about what’s happened to you, about the things that Delancre has done. Even me, to be honest.”

Daye shook her head. “There’s no reason for any of you to feel responsible,” she said. “The Watchers’ Council is not to blame for what happened, and neither are any of the Watchers who were unaware of what was going on.”

“Maybe so, but Delancre was our leader,” Alicia argued. “We should have known. We should have been paying closer attention. We should have been protecting you.” Alicia sighed. “I know that you’re not going to come back to us, Amanda. I know that the Watchers and you were never really a good fit.”

Daye shrugged. “No, I’m not planning to come back. I-I don’t think I was ever really cut out to be a Watcher. I value all that I learned from you, and all the friends that I made, but that’s just not the life for me - not anymore. I can’t be restrained. I’m more proud of the work I’ve done here, with my friends, than I ever was of the work I did as a Watcher.”

“Some people are meant for other things,” Alicia replied. “We all understand, but we will miss you. And we want to do something to make things up to you, and maybe to establish a strong, good bond with your group - with the White Hats. I know that’s not up to you, but still…”

Alicia lifted the papers and handed them to Daye. “These papers are the ownership contracts for the shop and restaurant. I’ve already initialed them. If you’d read them over, and then, if you’re satisfied, sign where I’ve indicated with the tabs, then that will be that.”

“That will be what?” Daye asked, thoroughly confused. “Ownership contracts? What’s going on?”

“I would have thought you’d have figured it out by now, dear,” Alicia responded. “We’re giving you the shop. It’ll be yours as soon as you ‘sign on the dotted line’.”

“Mine? Really?” Daye couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. “You want to… give me the shop. That’s… unbelievable. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Amanda,” Alicia advised. “Just sign.”

Daye nodded, moved beyond belief. The Bibliophile was going to be hers, hers for real and for good. It was so unbelievable. She took the pen and bent lifted the papers, sitting back to read through them. A few minutes later, she smiled up at Alicia. “This is great,” she said. “I just can’t believe… You know, this isn’t necessary, but I’m not going to turn it down either.”

Alicia and Daye both laughed. “Well, and why would you?” Alicia asked. “You love that place. You’ve made it what it is. You deserve it. You’ve no reason to feel guilty for accepting it from us.”

“And I’m not going to,” Daye replied. “I’ve got enough to feel bad about. I think I’ll feel good about this.”

“Good.” Alicia took the papers back as Daye finished signing them all. “You’ll need to find a new manager, of course - or an assistant, depending on how much time you’re going to be spending at the shop.”

“Of course, you’ll be far to busy,” Daye agreed. “Although you’ll be hard to replace, Alicia.”

Daye leaned forward and lightly touched the other woman’s hand. “I know, it’s going to be hard for you for some time, but I hope you’ll still come in from time to time. I don’t want to lose my friends on the Council.”

“Of course I will, and I’m sure from time to time our two groups will need to work together, Amanda,” she replied.

“I’m sure,” Daye said, sighing.

“Well, I’ll get these papers back to the lawyers and soon everything will be filed and in order.” Alicia slipped the paperwork back into her attaché and shut it.

“Thank you, Alicia,” Daye said sincerely.

“You’re very welcome, dear,” Alicia replied. She glanced at her watch. “I really should be going, now, though. I hope that’s okay with you. I’ve a lot to do still to prepare for the fight.”

“Of course you do,” Daye agreed. “Go ahead. I’ll see you soon.”

“Indeed,” Alicia said, rising gracefully to her feet. She said goodbye and left Daye alone. Daye sat there for a few more minutes. She turned from side to side, studying the busy patio and glancing at the shop itself. She was filled with pride. This place, one she was so very fond of, was going to actually be hers.

ana is debriefed

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 09/03/2004 - 18:08.

*** Tuesday, June 5, 2007, 3 pm ***

*** Lord Delancre’s Study ***

“All right, Ana,” Delancre’s tone was gentle and patient even though inside he was a boiling mass of rage and disbelief. The Slayer had failed him. As inconceivable as it appeared, Ana had been defeated quite easily by the loathsome necromancer and his pretty-as-a-picture assistant. “Tell me again about the woman - just the woman, and be very specific. I need you to relate as much detail as possible. Tell me everything, no matter how insignificant you might think it is, everything you can remember.”

“Yes sir,” Ana said. She didn’t begin speaking immediately, but rather took a few minutes to gather her thoughts. This would be her third time going over the events that had transpired on Sunday at the Dalton building. Each time, Delancre had narrowed in on a different aspect, but Ana knew that the information he wanted in detail this time was more than likely the most important. She was exhausted and still sore from the fight, but beneath that, Ana felt furious and frustrated. She had failed Lord Delancre. She hated to fail, and especially so when that failure made her look bad to her Lord.

Ana Graziani did not like to lose. It particularly didn’t sit well with her that she had lost to a worthless, spoiled, rich brat who’d probably never had to work for anything in his ridiculously overprivileged life. She didn’t know a lot about Marcus Dalton, but what she did know made her sick to her stomach. The guy had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. He’d had money and all that went with it from day one, but like the rest of his family before him Dalton had been more interested in power than anything else. The Daltons had always been lacking in any sort of scruples. They allied themselves with the dark forces at work in the world and had no qualms about playing at being gods themselves. That’s why the family was best known for churning out necromancers, surely the most distasteful of all magic users. Not that Ana really had any use for witches or warlocks or the like, but at least most were careful to tap into what was commonly called “white magic”. Necromancers were an entirely different brand of mage. They dealt with the dead, the realms beyond the veil, and at times even death itself. They were as evil as could be, for sure.

Ana was the Slayer. She had a sacred duty to destroy evil. Therefore, she was bred to oppose people like the Daltons. She hated them, all of them, but especially Marcus Dalton. The filthy necromancer had whored out his very soul for power and now he thought to interfere with Lord Delancre and his fine plans. If Ana had been properly prepared, she would have taken the man’s miserable excuse for a life and brought his head back to her Lord as a token of her devotion. Unfortunately, though, the Council’s intelligence on Dalton had been faulty. The assistant that they had dismissed out of hand was actually a powerful demon in disguise. If Ana had known, she would have been better prepared. Because she hadn’t, she had failed.

“The woman, Onyx, she was a demon, I suppose,” Ana stated clearly. “I’ve never seen that species before, but she was definitely non human. The façade we see is some kind of illusion or magical shell or something. Beneath that pretty face, she was vaguely insectoid. I’ve never even seen anything like it in a book or anything, Sir.”

Delancre looked thoughtful for a moment. “Could you maybe describe it to Mitchell well enough that he could make me a rough sketch? Did you get a good enough look at it for that?”

Mitchell was a researcher who just happened to possess an uncanny ability to recreate artistically anything that was described to him. He’d come in handy many times during Watchers’ Council investigations in the past. That was the main reason Delancre had had the man transferred to his staff.

Ana nodded slowly but confidently. “I think I- No, I’m sure I could, Sir,” she replied. “And, well, there’s the blade as well. I got a good strike in and that’s her blood and what not on there. I bet the science geeks could get something from that, right?”

“Very astute, Miss Graziani,” Delancre replied dryly. “I think the science geeks should definitely be able to learn something from the sample on your sword. Even though you didn’t manage to bring the demon back to me, you’ve been a great help. It’s very fortuitous that you managed to get such a clean cut in.”

Delancre allowed a bit of censure to creep into his tone. It was important that Ana understand that he was still upset about her failure. He had to keep the girl on her toes. She mustn’t forget that she had failed him. “Of course, it would have been much better if you had actually managed to capture this Onyx creature, but we’ll just have to make sure that your mistake doesn’t cause too much trouble for me, won’t we?”

“Yes sir,” Ana said softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. She hated it when her Lord was upset with her. This was all the damn necromancer’s fault. If he’d kept his nose out of their affairs, then none of this would have been necessary.

“Very well,” Delancre said. “Then that’s all I need from you, Miss Graziani. You can go find Mitchell and take care of the sketch.”

Ana nodded and rose, quickly leaving the study. She had been dismissed and knew from experience that it was a bad idea to dawdle. She pushed down her fatigue and squared her shoulders when she reached the hall. It had been a long day already, and it obviously wasn’t over. She still had work to do.

Dinner in Marcus' suite

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 09/03/2004 - 18:10.

*** Tuesday, June 5, 2007, 6:20 pm ***

*** Peninsula Beverly Hills ***

Daye leaned back as the elevator doors slid shut and it started climbing towards Marcus’ floor. She sighed. Coming over tonight to see the man had been an impulse she’d simply been unable to ignore. She hadn’t wanted to examine her reasoning too closely, but now, in these few moments of silence, she could really consider why she was here. As the attack on Delancre loomed closer and closer, Daye found herself becoming more afraid. She couldn’t stop imagining all the ways things might go. The very idea of drawing Delancre and his army out, of using Maia as bait, of finally going head to head with the madman, left her half terrified. The last thing Daye wanted to think of was that they might fail, that Delancre might get exactly what he wanted, but it was the only thing she couldn’t stop thinking of.

Added to her growing fear about the battle ahead was the tension at home. Even now, as time was running out, Daye felt more and more keenly the rift between herself and Drew. He was trying so hard, but at the same time there was a wall between them and he didn’t do anything to try and get past it. Drew didn’t even acknowledge there was anything wrong, and at times Daye wondered if it was just her. She felt out of sorts. She felt as if their interactions were more and more forced. She fought the urge to push him away or to run. Drew seemed happy. He seemed unaware, but then, now and again, Daye would catch him looking at her in a certain way, and she knew. He felt it too. At those times there was desperation and confusion in his gaze. It was as if he knew there was something wrong, but he was afraid to try and fix it. Drew was in denial and Daye couldn’t bring herself to hurt him by forcing him to face it. She had to pretend. She had to go along with him. She couldn’t hurt him again.

*It’s just so exhausting,* Daye thought, as the elevator smoothly slid to a stop and the doors opened. She stepped out into the hall, ignoring the thrill of anticipation that coursed through her as she moved down the hall to Onyx’s door. It was too dangerous a notion, examining her feelings for Marcus, so she didn’t do it. Being with him made her feel good; it helped her to relax, and she needed that so much right now. So she’d called and asked him to meet her for dinner. He’d been in the middle of something that required delicate care, but had been more than willing for Daye to come to his hotel to share a meal with him. Daye had jumped at the chance.

*Lying to Drew about it was wrong, though,* Daye admitted to herself. She had told her fiancé she was going to be working late on the books at the shop. He was very uncomfortable with her friendship with Marcus, and Daye knew it. She could see it, even though he never outright said anything. She hadn’t wanted to listen to him pretending not to care, or have to explain her reasons, so she’d lied. It was just easier that way. Unaware of the bright smile on her face, Daye reached up and knocked on Onyx’s door.

Onyx opened the door and smiled, seemingly unaware of her somewhat mussed hair and slightly swollen lips. “Hello Daye. He’s in and he knows you’re coming. Just go right ahead.”

"Thanks," Daye said. She turned away from Onyx with a little wave and moved towards Marcus’ door. She rapped lightly, tugged her skirt to make sure it was straight and smiled.

Marcus looked up from where he sat in the study, which had been pressed into service as a ritual area. In the air before him, at the centre of a pentagram, hung a black staff. The staff grew imperceptibly as the candles marking the edge of the pentagram slowly burnt down.

Marcus took a moment to check his connection to the staff. Necromantic energies flowed through him into it; in the battle against Delancre it would allow him a much greater expression of his art. Unfortunately constructing such an object required his close presence if not his constant attention, hence Marcus’ invitation to Daye.

Satisfied everything was in order Marcus stepped out of the study, closing the door behind him. Room service had delivered only a few minutes previously and Marcus took a moment to check the food before walking to the door and opening it. Daye stood with a smile on her face, dressed in a peasant-style off-white dress. It was a far cry from her wardrobe during her infection with Hyde, but it remained sexy with the skirt above the knee and the neckline quite low. The effect was more subtle than the in-your-face sexuality of before and Marcus felt much closer to who Daye really was.

“Hello Daye,” he said with a smile before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Come in.” He led the way back in to the main lounge of the suite and hovered by the drinks cabinet. “Can I get you anything?”

Daye followed Marcus into the lounge. There was a slight chill in the air and goosebumps ran across Daye’s skin. She could feel the energy in the room and figured it must have had something to do with whatever magic Marcus had been working.

She was about to take a seat on the sofa, when for some reason she was suddenly, vibrantly reminded of one of the last times she’d been in this room with him. Vivid images assaulted her, memories of Marcus pressing her down on the sofa. She could recall with perfect clarity the flash fire of heat when he’d touched her and the delicious feel of his mouth teasing her breasts. That day she’d been so eager, so ready for him from the moment she’d first spoken to him. It had been like that between them every time they’d come together.

Daye’s face flushed with color as she was caught in those memories and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sofa. She hadn’t even heard Marcus’ casual question.

The expected answer to his question never came and Marcus looked up from the drinks cabinet to see Daye staring dazedly at his sofa. Marcus was puzzled for a moment before the significance of Daye’s wide-eyed gaze and flushed skin. An image of Daye lying debauched on that sofa flitted through Marcus’ mind. Marcus gave a little cough before trying to attract her attention. “Uh, Daye?”

Daye turned away from the sofa at the sound. She looked up at Marcus and shook her head, as if to clear the memories from her mind. Daye saw Marcus’ gaze dart to the sofa and then back to her. Color rose in his cheeks as well and she knew that he was thinking of the same thing that she was. Daye felt new warmth, born of embarrassment, flood her face.

"I'm sorry?" Daye said softly, dropping her gaze to the floor. "What did you ask me?"

Pushing aside the memory and its unpleasant associations Marcus kept his attention firmly fixed in the present, the present where he and Daye were friends and allies, not lovers.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, thank you,” Daye replied. She moved over to the sofa and sat down, trying for the life of her not to think about things better left forgotten. *Get over it! You are friends now - just friends.*

Marcus nodded and picked up a bottle of good quality Russian vodka; Daye had acquired a taste for it during her visits. He poured a couple of glasses the moved to sit by Daye, handing her a glass as he did so. He sipped the liquor, letting the fiery liquid sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing.

Glad for the distraction, Daye took the glass from Marcus and quickly gulped the clear liquid. She tried to swallow, but the vodka was burning a trail down her throat and involuntarily she started to cough violently.

Marcus’ glass found its way onto the table as he leapt towards her. Snagging her glass he set it down too while his other hand patted ineffectually on her back while she choked on the fiery liquid. A moment later she managed to inhale a lungful of air and then started coughing once more. When he was certain she wasn’t going to choke to death Marcus dashed to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Returning to Daye he offered her the water while mentally berating himself.

*Idiot! Daye probably doesn’t drink! Even if Amanda did.* “I’m sorry, I should have realised,” he apologised.

Daye shook her head and waved a hand in the air. She still wasn’t quite up to speaking just yet. She made herself draw slow deep breaths into her lungs. It was her own damn fault. She should have realized he would assume she'd want the vodka. It was what she'd preferred to drink when they'd been together before.

Finally managing to get herself under control, Daye turned slightly towards Marcus. She smiled weakly. "No," her voice was a little hoarse. "It's not your fault. I should have been more specific. That is what I used to drink, right? Totally not your fault."

Daye breathed deeply a couple of times and reached out to take the glass of water from Marcus. Her fingers brushed his and electricity sang through her nerve endings. It was at that moment that she realized just how close he was to her. He’d moved closer while trying to come to her aid, and at the time she’d been too distracted to notice, but now that she was able to breathe again she was all too aware of him. She was breathing in his scent and her body responded. He was pressed close to her side with one arm around her back and the heat from his touch seared her through the thin material of her dress as his hand rested on her shoulder.

Daye couldn’t control the shiver of desire that coursed through her body. She looked at him, her eyes inadvertently dropping to his mouth as she recalled how it had felt to kiss him. Her mouth was slightly open and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she drew in another deep breath. She should have moved away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

With the immediate crisis over Marcus was in a position to catalogue a number of sensations he had, up until that point, ignored: like the feel of Daye’s soft curves pressing against him, the heat from her body slowly penetrating his clothes. His eyes remained on hers until the appearance of her tongue moistening her lips attracted his attention.

He trailed his fingers teasingly down Daye’s back to rest at the base of her spine, stroking where beneath the dress Marcus knew lay a small tattoo. Daye arched in response to that gentle caress pressing her breasts against Marcus more fully, eliciting a half-groan, half-growl from him.

That sound was enough to force an awareness of what was happening through Marcus’ lust-addled brain and he jerked his hand away from the temptations of Daye’s flesh. Moving to put more space between them and remembering the incident at Aspen he stammered an apology, “I-I’m… sorry. I-I…”

Daye sat without moving. Her pulse raced and her blood burned. She couldn’t believe how quickly being close to Marcus pushed at her control. Desire nipped hungrily at her nerve endings. The sound he’d made just before he’d moved away, the sound that had brought him to his senses, had set off wildfires within her. Her immediate response to him breaking off and moving away was regret and crushing disappointment. *Does he have to be so damn noble?* her unchecked inner voice asked. Daye squelched it quickly, feeling a rush of guilt and self recrimination. *You are friends,* she admonished herself. *Just friends.*

Daye brought her gaze up to where Marcus sat, now a decent, respectable distance from her. She wasn’t sure what to say to cut the tension, but obviously something had to be said. Marcus looked so flustered.

“Marcus, I- it’s all right,” Daye said. “That… we… just don’t worry about it.”

“N-no, I should have… I mean there’re lines I shouldn’t…” Marcus paused and ran a hand through his hair, all the while suppressing the treacherous voice in his head telling him how beautiful she was, how sensuous and, most importantly, how she wouldn’t refuse him.

“Oh hell, Daye. I’m sorry. Can we just…”

Daye nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Of course we can. This is all..." Daye waved a hand nonchalantly in the air. "It's because of these circumstances, that's all. I've been so distracted and out of sorts, with the battle in a couple of days. And we- we have a past. It's not abnormal for there to be certain... residual feelings. This is all, no big deal. Let's just pretend it never happened."

*Pretend some more, why don't you?* Daye scolded herself. *You're getting awfully good at that.*

The sofa, Marcus decided, was not the best place to be right now. Daye was right there, as were residual feelings and proximity wasn’t helping them to fade, so Marcus moved over to an armchair. Sitting down his gaze was attracted to the trolley room service had delivered and he sighed. Food would be a welcome distraction right now.

“Shall we eat?”

Daye was glad for the abrupt change of subject. The tension between them was still high, but if they ignored it, surely it would fade. “Yes, let’s,” she said.

Daye rose from the sofa and moved to the room service cart. She lifted the plates from the cart and moved to set them on the coffee table, one before the armchair Marcus now occupied and one before the sofa where she'd been sitting. She added the bottle of wine and wineglasses as well as the vase of flowers from the cart. When everything was arranged, Daye felt somewhat better. She settled back on the sofa and smiled at Marcus. "There, then, let's eat."

The food was a welcome distraction and as they ate, initially at least, in awkward silence the tension slowly drained out of the air. The obvious topic of conversation - the upcoming attack on Delancre - Marcus discarded. The plans had been made and everyone was busy preparing. Any further discussion at this stage surely would be counter productive. Still, it did suggest another avenue of interest.

“So is everyone recovering from your ordeal?” It wasn’t, Marcus realized, an idle question. A major battle wasn’t the place for distrust amongst allies and if the Hyde virus had done anything it had left oceans of mistrust in its wake.

Daye considered Marcus' question carefully. It was a good one, perhaps the best and most important anyone could be asking at this juncture. The answer, however, was complicated. "I'm not sure, but I certainly hope so," Daye finally said.

"Obviously, I can’t speak for anyone but myself. As for me, I have to admit I'm pretty scared - and confused - and, I just don't know - exhausted."

Marcus’ demeanor softened at that. Daye’s exhaustion was understandable. In her case ordeal was exactly the correct word, more so perhaps than any of the others. “Yes, I imagine it’ll be a relief when all this is over.”

"Yes, I suppose so," Daye agreed. She couldn't help thinking that it was more than just Delancre that left her feeling this way. She wasn't just tired from dealing with Delancre and Hyde and the ramifications of both. She was tired from trying to be perfect. She was tired from trying so hard to accept the care and concern of others, to push down her feelings about what had happened to her, to never let anyone see that she was different - that what Delancre had done to her had changed her. She was tired from hiding her own pain and fear.

"I think the waiting makes it worse," Daye said after a few minutes. "At least once the battle is past, we won't have to worry or wonder."

“No I suppose not,” Marcus half smiled, “at least not about this apocalypse.”

*You’ll marry Drew then too,” he thought, with a glance at the engagement ring on Daye’s finger, *and that’s raising its own problems, isn’t it?*

Daye sighed. "No, but there's always something else it seems."

She saw Marcus' eyes dart to her ring. She could almost imagine what he was thinking. Daye got the distinct impression that Marcus questioned her decision to go through with the wedding. In her most brutally honest moments, Daye had to admit she was questioning her wisdom as well.

"Goddess knows what the next thing will be," Daye said. "It seems we're always facing one apocalypse or another."

Daye fiddled with the food on her plate. "I-I suppose that's why Drew is so eager for this wedding to move forward. He's afraid that something else will come up."

*Not the best reason for setting a date.* “Yeah, I can sort of understand that reasoning. Los Angeles has had its share of troubles recently.” Marcus could understand the reasoning, but it was obvious Daye had her own doubts. His own feelings suggested Drew’s forcing of the issue was totally the wrong way to deal with those doubts.

Daye laughed softly. *Troubles?* she thought. *Way to understate things.*

"I know, but it's hard, you know?" Daye admitted. "He seems so eager for this to happen. I'm afraid that maybe Drew feels like this wedding is going to trigger some magic transformation, and that suddenly everything will be perfect once we say 'I do'."

Daye paused. She looked up at Marcus and her expression was bleak. "It's just a lot of pressure."

*Then tell him to wait!* Marcus thought savagely but he knew telling her what to do was just more pressure and that was what Daye didn’t need right now. "One thing at a time then, I guess. Get Delancre out of the way then you can worry about the wedding. I mean, have you even picked your flowers yet?"

"We haven't even picked an official date yet," she replied. "Although he keeps dropping subtle hints that he'd like it to be sometime in June. Of course, that is if we all survive," Daye added. *Maybe we won't and I won't have to think about this anymore.*

“We’re going to do more than survive,” Marcus replied softly. “We’re going to win. I know you have you doubts but don’t doubt that.”

Daye wanted so very much to believe Marcus' words, but she was having trouble with her faith lately. "I hope so. I..." Daye choked back the sudden emotion flooding her. "I don't want to think what will happen if you're wrong. It's not just about Delancre and his ambitions. I-I'm so scared that we're delivering Maia right into his hands, that we're underestimating him."

Marcus slipped off his armchair and moved to embrace Daye. Delancre had had her in his power for days and it had left scars despite Kate’s healing. Though he knew there was little point in trying to soothe Daye’s fears with logic he tried anyway. “Why did Delancre infect you all with Hyde, do you think? It distracted you, drove you apart. It’s still poisoning what your group was. But in the end it hasn’t worked. You’re stronger than you were, with more allies. If you could interfere with him before, now you can stop him. Can you imagine me backing a lost cause?”

Daye let out a strangled sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "No, I can't," she said. "Of course, you're right about Delancre and Hyde, but I..."

Daye paused. She was so deeply ashamed of what she felt here. "Kate made me promise not to be afraid of him, but I can't do it. I can't stop. He... after what he was able to do to all of us, I'm still so scared."

“Tell me. Why you fear him so. Let it out, Daye. Don’t hide it and allow it to grow.” Marcus’ hands stroked gently down her back as he whispered, “Tell me.”

Marcus' words, his caring, made Daye feel safer than she had in a long while. Here, with him, she could say whatever she needed to without being afraid.

"It's not just what he did to me in that cell under the house," Daye whispered. "It's so much more than that. It's what he made me do; the things he made me say; the person he tried to turn me into. How could he have such power - over me? Marcus, even after he had Ryan killed - even then I still... He rescued me," Daye shook her head as if to deny these truths even as she spoke them.

"When my mother died, I didn't know what I was going to do. She was my whole world. I was just a kid and I was alone... and then Ambrose came. In my mind, for years, he could do no wrong. He was my hero. I wanted to be the best Watcher, the very best, because I just wanted to show him he hadn't made a mistake."

"Then when Ryan died I was angry, but I still made excuses to myself. For him. I told myself he was only trying to protect me, that he was doing what he thought was best. I forgave him. I was angry and I didn't talk to him a lot, but still, in my heart, he was the same. And all along - for all those years - he was plotting, he was lying and scheming."

Daye took a deep breath. "Delancre used me because I let him. And when he tortured me, I let him do that too. I think, maybe, even though I was mad a part of me wanted to find some reason for what he'd done. That's maybe why I was so adamant about going back there. In some way, I still wanted to forgive him."

“Did you forgive him? For the lies and deception, for the heartache he caused, for the pain? Did you forgive him when he chained you in his dungeon? Have you forgiven him for twisting your life?”

Marcus had to fight to keep the anger out of his voice. Delancre didn’t deserve forgiveness or mercy and part of Marcus wanted to shout that truth at Daye but he didn’t because it wasn’t what she needed.

Daye could hear the underlying frustration in Marcus' words. "No, of course not," she replied. "I'm not stupid - just an emotional wreck."

Daye wiped her hands across her eyes, drying her tears. She smiled tremulously at Marcus. "Sorry, I keep promising to not do that to you again, don't I? I guess I'm just afraid that I'm not going to be strong enough when the time comes," she said. "What if I can't do it? What if I can't stand against him?"

Marcus hugged her a little closer before letting her go. “And I keep telling you I don’t mind. What, after all, are friends for? As for standing against him: I think you already did. In that dungeon. You’re strong enough. You always have been. He’s not beaten you before. He won’t now.”

"Thanks, Marcus," Daye replied. "I-I'm going to try very hard to believe that."

“It’s the truth, after all.” Marcus moved back to his chair. Daye had gotten herself back under control and they continued to eat. “So how’s Maia? Happy to have her mum back?” Marcus asked abruptly, hoping to move the conversation out of the darkness and into the light. After all, few mothers could pass up a chance to talk about their little girls.

Daye nodded, her whole face lighting up as she warmed to the subject. She proceeded to tell Marcus in incredible detail exactly how extremely wonderful her darling little girl was. Marcus listened attentively and when they'd exhausted that topic, he continued to steer the conversation along safe lines. Daye relaxed by degrees as they ate and talked and the underlying tension was almost entirely forgotten, or at least they continued to pretend it was anyway.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Fri, 09/03/2004 - 18:14.

Tuesday, June 5th
10:05 pm
Watchers’ Council LA Headquarters
Delancre’s rooms

The handcuffs dangled heavily from Delancre's hands. Alessa looked at his mischievously smiling face while she crouched on the bed and she wetted her lips. She knew those well; they had used them before, and after her first fears she had even found Delancre's games exciting. Not that the handcuffs were really imprisoning. Even if they were real, not toys or lined with pads to prevent hurt, she could probably break loose from them. But, her fears had proven wrong; Delancre had never actually hurt her; not much, at least.

She watched him attach the thick chains to the bed's wooden canopy posts in silence. He worked in silence too; however his excitement was evident in the contained tension of his muscles and his studied movements. She knew Delancre controlled himself with her, and even with such restraint his lovemaking was always borderline.

Alessa waited till he extended one slightly shaking hand to one of her now furry wrists. A smooth, glossy black coat, similar to sealskin, covered her whole body, and her face had the look of a big feline. A long, tensile tail was wrapped around her knees. The emeralds he had given her shone even more against the dark setting; she never took them off.

"Now, dear," Alessa said, wetting her strangely formed mouth with a long pink tongue, "I'd like to try something new…"

Delancre struggled to contain his nearly rabid desire for Alessa in this strange, but arousing form. No matter what else they might do it was these times, when she'd shed her human guise for a bestial one, that he found most arousing. It reinforced for him that she was inherently inhuman and therefore capable of things he could only begin to imagine. It was exciting beyond belief to know that she was less than human and undoubtedly capable of vicious savagery, but that Alessa was willing to submit to him time and again. Delancre got off on the power of it all as much as anything else.

Delancre raised a quizzical eyebrow at Alessa as she held him off from attaching the handcuffs to her wrists. "Something new?" he repeated. "What have you devised in that deviant mind of yours, love?"

Alessa let out an earthy laugh, and looked at him through lowered lids; he was eagerly waiting for her answer, the manacles resting now on his thighs. She shifted position and her tensile tail rose to caress his cheek, while she kneeled closer to him with languor. She let all her excitement permeate her barriers so it reached him: she was excited. This was what she had been building every time he had allowed him to overpower her.

“I want to set the pace this time,” she said, her voice sounding exotic and raspy, and strangely meowing.

She approached him even more, allowing the soft and glossy coat of her breasts to tickle his naked chest. Her tail wrapped around his neck and she licked her lips again; she was almost trembling with anticipation and her eyes shone her real sparkling green. “I want you to allow me to be in control.”

She smiled again, so close that she was almost sitting on his lap. “I want you to experience the thrill of letting go.” her hands moved to tangle behind his neck and she leant on his ear to continue to whisper her plans to him.

Delancre was at first taken aback by Alessa's suggestion. He preferred to be in control, to be the dominant player in their sexual games. He had never really considered relinquishing that control, but as Alessa whispered in his ear, her voice a low purr and her words pure heat, Delancre began to reconsider. How would it be, to submit to her tender mercies? She outmatched him in strength and speed. He knew that to be true. The possibilities of being overcome by her were part of what made it so exciting for him. How much more thrilling would the game be if he relinquished control and let her set the pace? Alessa was a skilled and imaginative lover. What would it be like if he let her have free reign? He'd let her take the initiative here and there before, but this would be different. He would have to trust her completely to put himself at her mercy.

Delancre pulled back slightly from Alessa and looked into her eyes. She had not altered them this time, and he could see the woman he loved behind the disguise she wore. And he did love her. He had never felt this way for any woman before. She was his fantasy come to life. She'd proven time and again that she was loyal to him. She'd given up her whole life for him. Surely it wasn't too much to ask that he give her control for a few hours. Particularly when there was the promise of such pleasure to come.

"All right," Delancre said, smiling shakily. This was a big step for him.

Alessa bit her lip as she felt her heart race at his agreement; he had finally taken that last step, he trusted her so completely that he would put himself at her mercy. She felt her loins stir achingly and realized that she had been expecting this moment in more aspects than one. Yet this was more than simply revenge, or lust... Alessa almost came at the thought, and she smiled broadly while she licked her lips.

“I’ll make it worth while, amor,” she said to her lover as she let her claws run smoothly against his chest, leaving faint marks on their path. She then pushed him backwards and made him lie down beneath her and she extended over to secure his left wrist with one of the handcuffs. As Delancre’s muscles pulled bulgingly against his skin, Alessa controlled another surge of lust. She was feeling elated, excited and purposeful. She hadn’t thought much about this moment before, but it was the ultimate aphrodisiac: power. Ownership. Control. It wasn’t strange that Delancre liked it so much.

Ambrose nostrils flared and his body tensed as Alessa secured him to the bed. He could feel the dangerous edge of her arousal and it heightened his own, knowing that she was getting off on the power of the position as much as he did. This night could prove a turning point for him. Depending on how far she was willing to take things, maybe from here on out Ambrose could let go more around her, show her the darker side of his desire.

Once his wrists were both secured to the bedposts, Ambrose couldn't resist testing the restraints. He pulled as hard as he could, but he was bound well. Smiling raggedly, he watched Alessa with hungry eyes, eager to see what she would do next.

Alessa smiled at his struggles and she caressed his arms, tracing the muscles rippling under his skin. She always wondered at he hidden strength in him; when he was all dressed up and acting the Watcher it passed almost unnoticed. Almost. She remembered touching Stuart's hands and thinking how strong they were. At the thought of his treachery, Alessa's hands turned rough and she could feel him trembling with excitement beneath her touch.

Delancre bucked but to no avail, the handcuffs held his upper body firmly. Alessa ran her hands slowly down his body, her nails brushing their path to his legs. She felt him tense beneath her and smiling, she slowly turned around to secure his ankles to the cuffs at the feet of the bed. Soon, Delancre was completely bound, his wrists and ankles secured firmly, although allowing him some amount of movement. The handcuffs' chain length was adjusted to her much smaller body, and that gave him some respite in his bindings.

She shifted then and knelt down in front of him. "There, how do you feel now?"

"At your mercy," Delancre replied hoarsely. "But I... trust you. It's your show, Alessa. Do what you will."

He trusted her. It was like hearing a choir of angels, him uttering those final words. Alessa knelt closer to him and positioned herself between his legs. He was gloriously aroused and she felt her mouth go dry just by looking at him. She shook her head. That was only lust, but so much that Alessa had to stifle a moan, and clamp her legs firmly together; anticipation was overwhelming. The weeks of waiting were over. *Get a grip!* she commanded herself, and she sat upright. She had to concentrate on her anger and her need for revenge.

She lithely jumped off the bed and walked calmly to the precious rosewood wardrobe with her clothes. She was surprised to find herself a bit dizzy from the exhilaration of making her capture. She knew Delancre's eyes were on her so she was purposefully slow in her movements as she opened it and fingered its contents. Rich fabrics and expensive cuts, she could have gotten used to the unheard-of luxury... She clasped the emerald at her neck; she had been certainly seduced by it.

Finally she found what she was looking for, a Hermes silk scarf; it complimented a dress she had bought just last week, a vibrant blood red. She slid the sleek fabric through her fingers and it shimmered as the lustrous material caught the light. Alessa wrapped it around her neck and head, allowing the exotic material to fall forward and frame her feline face. Her blue-black pelt shone even darker against the rich silk, and her eyes glowed a bloodthirsty red for a second.

"Where were we?" she asked, as she strode towards the bed again, her hands gripping the extremes of the scarf. "Ah, yes. My show. I wonder what I am going to do..." She purposely affected a seductive swing to her movements, but her tail twitched against her legs, betraying her anger.

"First of all I should take a cold shower because I don’t think we are going to do much in the way of sex tonight, love," she said, and with a quick movement she unwrapped the scarf from her head and let it drop over his groin, where it stayed like a pool of liquid silk, a blood red pool of silk. "I have to hide temptation, though," she added, mischievously.

Delancre’s eyes followed her every movement. “A cold shower?” he repeated, sounding puzzled. “Alessa, what is it you have in mind?”

"Not what you have in mind, querido. As much as I suspect I'd like these games, now it's not the time for playing." She took her kimono-like robe from a nearby chair and put it on as she simultaneously morphed into human form again. As she adjusted the silk belt, she looked at his frowning face and spoke seriously, her derision showing in the reddish depths of her eyes. "No games, no kidding, Ambrose. It's for real now."

Suddenly, Delancre began to wonder if he'd made a serious mistake here, a tactical error.

"Love, is there something wrong?" he asked cautiously. "I... you're making me nervous." Delancre laughed, but it sounded forced.

Alessa smiled, but her smile held a ferocious quality. "As you should be, my love." She approached the bed again and sat down beside him, but her demeanour held no seduction now, only a bleak determination. "I've been waiting a long time for this, you know? It feels strange now that I'm here."

“For what?” Delancre asked, his suspicions growing. “Alessa, what are you doing? Unlock these cuffs!”

Alessa laughed at his commanding tone. He was tensing against his bonds, but not yet too scared, not yet. Her eyes darted to the bulging muscles and she run a hand over them.

"You are funny, Ambrose. I don’t know what makes you think you have any authority here. I'm not one of your cowering servants." She smiled at the goose bumps her lingering touch was creating on Delancre's skin; even in his state of growing uneasiness she could affect him so. It was exhilarating, this feeling of power.

"In fact, I never gave you any reason to believe I'd be at your beck and call. Or did I?" she asked, a finely sculpted brow raising slightly. "How thoughtless of me."

"Alessa?" There was a definite note of panic in Delancre's tone now. "Alessa, don't do anything foolish. I love you. I-I've been good to you. Please, let me go."

Alessa laughed again. She had to laugh or she'd kill him on the spot, and she didn’t want it to finish so soon. The sound coming from her lips was harsh and cruel and it provoked new goose bumps on Delancre's exposed skin. She felt the rage try to flood her, and her knuckles grew white on the knot of her belt. She slowly got to control herself and there were tears in her eyes when she looked at him again.

"Oh, my, you should have pursued a career in the circus, dear. You are funny." She moved closer to him, her face level with his, her tone controlled but the hatred in her eyes clear enough. "How is it that you were good to me? When you kidnapped me back in February? When you beat me senseless and then took pleasure in photographing me? When you portrayed another man and seduced me under false pretences?"

She raised her hand to hit him in the face and stopped herself in mid motion; instead she stood up and paced around the bed. "No, wait. Let me guess, maybe when you infected me with a virus that would destroy me and all I hold dear…" She licked her lips and turned to look at him. "You have a strange way to show your love, Delancre."

Despite her words, Ambrose was still frustratingly unable to really get inside Alessa's head and see what she was really feeling. Was this all part of the game, or was she genuinely furious? He simply couldn't be sure. All he could pick up, still, were feelings of lust and excitement. Had he made a terrible mistake? Was Alessa serious? Had she been playing games with him all this time?

"Querida, I do love you," Ambrose reasoned gently. "I'm not sure what you mean to accomplish here, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it now. I would like you to unlock the cuffs now, Alessa. I'm not ready for this after all."

"What I wish to accomplish?" Alessa blinked, her fury receding when she didn’t get the response she had foreseen from him. Why wasn’t he scared? She could still see desire in his eyes, excitement in his voice, despite what she had said so far. And then it hit her. The charm. She was still wearing it; he must believe she was just pulling an act with it screening her emotions.

"I've been ready for this for a long time, Delancre." Alessa smiled again, and extended her hand to him, and caressed his cheek softly. He moved his face to fill her palm but she retired it quickly.

"So ready that I had my friends help me pull it through. This watch has been pretty useful, " she said as she raised her left arm, letting the silk of her kimono slid downwards to expose the jewelled watch she had had on since her pretence started. "Let me show you," she added, and took it off, letting him experience her feelings for him in their full measure.

As soon as Alessa removed the charm, Ambrose felt her true feelings roll over him in waves of fury and hate. He was dizzy with the sudden onslaught of emotions. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath as a combination of fear and sorrow threatened to overwhelm him. Ambrose had indeed underestimated Alessa. He had been mistaken to trust her. He’d allowed his own feelings, his own desires to cloud his vision. Now he was at her mercy, but felt sure she had none to give him.

“Alessa, my love… please…” Delancre’s voice held an edge of desperation. “Please, don’t do this. Please, just uncuff me. I love you. I promise I can explain. I can make you understand why I’ve done the things I’ve done to you, and to your friends.”

The moment Delancre realized the extent of her hatred was clearly visible in his face and Alessa smiled grimly at the terrified expression in his eyes and the distress of his voice. She saw him pulling at the cuffs once more, desperate this time, his hands twining in the chain binding them, holding a slim hope of breaking free. But he remained helpless, bound to the bed and at her mercy.

"There's no way you could explain any of this to me. So many lies, Delancre. So many untruths and deceptions… so much cruelty. It is only fair that you are on the receiving end now."

She ran a hand through the cuff holding his left wrist and pulled away before he could grab her. "How does it feel to be the one bound? Cuffed like you had Daye for so many days?" She smiled at his startled expression. "Oh, yes. I know about Daye, I even went to visit her once, in her cell."

“She betrayed me. Alessa, you have to understand,” Ambrose said. “She kept secrets… secrets that could destroy everything I’ve worked for. Amanda, she’s weak. She can’t be allowed to raise the child. There’s too much at stake. I had to do what I did to her. I had to break her resistance. It was for her own good and the good of the world. You have to believe me.”

Delancre reddened as he spoke his next words. “I don’t enjoy doing these things. I have a duty though.”

Alessa grabbed his chin tight enough to make his jawbone creak. "The child? You threatened Maia too?" She shook her head; there was no limit to his depravity, and her resolve strengthened. She spoke when she saw him open his mouth to answer, "No, don’t bother. I won't believe a word you say anyway. I've had enough of your lies."

Delancre could see that nothing he said would change her mind. He frantically began to search the room for a way out. He had dismissed the guards and servants. No one would come to help. No one was allowed to disturb him when he was alone with this woman. He’d made very sure they all understood that.

Delancre bucked against his chains. “Alessa, don’t do this!” he hissed. “Don’t anger me. You have no idea how dangerous that could be.”

"But I do. I know precisely how dangerous you can be, that's why I'm doing this." She grabbed his soft brown hair and brought his face closer to hers. He tried to reach her, his fingers curving claw-like towards her in his frustration. But she only smiled as he moved in vain. "You have to be stopped, Delancre. I am going to kill you tonight."

She waited for a few seconds till she was sure realization of the veracity of her words downed on him, and the expression in his eyes was all she had expected and more. There was rage there, indignation and disbelief, but there was also fear, and she was elated. Alessa had ached inwardly to see that expression on Delancre's face for weeks, as he realized that the ultimate ending to his bondage would be his death.

Delancre was furious, but he was also chilled to hear Alessa deliver her threats in such a cruel and arrogant tone, so different from the loving manner he was used to. She sounded truly dangerous and deranged. On the upper side, he knew this woman, he had known her for months now; he had watched her, investigated her, loved her. She wasn’t hard; she wasn’t this cruel. She wasn’t a murderer.

"Now you may think that I'm not a murderer, don’t you?" she asked, when she saw a flicker of hope shine in his eyes. "But you forget something, dear."

She leaned closer to him, so close that her breath brushed against the sensitive skin on his temple. Delancre closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply on her sweet scent; even in this state she could move him.

"I'm infected with Hyde," she whispered.

Delancre's eyes bulged and he shook his head. A feeling of overwhelming panic suddenly overtook him and he moved his wrists back and forth uncontrollably against the cuffs in another forlorn bid to escape the heavy chains. He breathed in, then, and tried to control himself, not taking his eyes off her.

The demoness smiled, pleased with his response this time, and she climbed the bed and straddled him. She was still naked under her kimono and as she settled over the silk on his groin she could still feel his hardness beneath her.

"I see you are still interested, anyway. This is good." She grinned, and rocked slowly, enjoying the feeling. "Um, so good… but I can't be distracted, not now."

"A friend of mine has some interesting notions for when he becomes an Evil Overlord. Since you wanted exactly that, you may want to hear them," she said, still smiling, but she frowned inwardly at his prolonged silence. It was not fun gloating if he didn’t join the game. "No? I'll tell you anyway."

"Rule number one," she leaned over him, letting the silk of her kimono slid open to expose her small rounded breasts. "No matter how attractive certain members of the enemy are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me."

She straightened and enjoyed his sudden intake of breath at her shifting positions. "Of course I myself am breaking rule number two: 'I will not gloat over my enemy's predicament before killing him.' But then, I haven’t spent so much trouble to just go and shoot you, have I? I could have done that at any time."

Delancre's eyes were intent on her face, taking in every expression, every word, and he licked his lips. His treacherous body was responding to her movements, and he was painfully aroused. This woman could turn him on even in this extreme situation. He couldn’t believe that she had fooled him so, and still a burgeoning admiration attempted to rise through the haze of fury that enveloped him.

"But you didn’t, my dear," he said, gritting silently but trying to sound reasonable anyway. He had to keep her talking while he thought of a better way to deal with this situation. "You couldn’t because deep inside you, you know that I love you. That everything I did, I did to be with you, to make you love me."

His eyes darted to the emerald still clamped in her hand, and he smiled, remembering how moved she had been when he gave it to her. “You love me Alessa. I know you love me, dear.”

Alessa slapped him viciously and his neck cracked painfully with the force of the impact. "Don’t you dare to guess on my feelings!!" she shouted, her control breaking free at the sickening words. "I didn’t kill you before because I wanted you just like this, at my mercy of your free will. I wanted you to trust me as you had me trust you; and then betray you - like you betrayed me!"

Delancre's eyes shone furiously before he blinked the expression away and turned to look at her again. "Alessa!" he snapped, "that is Hyde talking, love! That is not you! You say you hate me for infecting you and yet you let the virus run all over you! Don’t let it control you, querida, I can cure you." Delancre watched her face closely while he kept talking. He had seen what Hyde could do, and as much as he knew for certain she was infected, she hadn't shown the irrational behaviour the rest had. Not till now, at least. "Please let me cure you, my love. Then you'll see more clearly, you'll see I'm telling the truth."

"I don’t need your cure," she spat, somehow getting more composed, "I can cure myself. Thank you."

Delancre swallowed this without even blinking, his shrewd mind racing to accommodate the new information. "But how will you feel, love, when you do? Having killed me this callously? I know you, Alessandra, I know you won't be able to live with yourself." He saw her still and he swallowed, before going on; hope showing in his eyes, but his voice held a soothing and reasonable quality. "You aren’t like this, dear… infected or not, you aren’t a murderer."

"Shut up!! Calláte!" Alessa shouted, his words were hitting too deep and she felt her resolve shaking. "I don’t want to hear you!"

She rose herself on her knees and jerked at the silken scarf from beneath her. With a quick movement she wrapped the scarf around his head. Delancre shook his head to disentangle himself, but she was too strong and he couldn’t prevent her from efficiently gagging him.

"I won't change my mind, you deserve dying! I'm killing you!!" she muttered while she crawled her way up towards his chest and sat on his stomach. Delancre's eyes flashed with naked rage and impotence until he looked into her red eyes and he blanched.

Alessa's face was contorted into a feral crease as she raised her arm to hit him. The First Elder's eyes followed her arm and bulged at the razor-sharp claws growing in her hand. He shook his head and would have pleaded for his life if he hadn't been so terrified. He moved arms and legs frantically but again, he only succeeded in hurting himself. He squealed through the silk gagging him, and closed his eyes, turning his face to the side.

After a couple of minutes in which nothing happened, Delancre cautiously opened his eyes. Alessa was frozen, her arm still raised, ready for a killing blow; but her eyes were closed, and her chest heaved in breathy pants. Tears were falling down her cheeks. His sigh of relief was so sudden that it started her, and she lowered her hand against his head. But her fingers had already blunted and she only dizzied him with the impact.

"Damn you to hell Delancre!!" she shouted and jumped off him, wiping angry tears from her eyes. "I can't make it, you maldito hijo de puta! I cant kill you in cold blood!"

She ran to the door, disrobing in the process and changing into the hairy servant she had portrayed so many times to get away from the mansion. She was ashamed, she had gotten so far and yet she couldn’t do it. He was right, this wasn’t her. She couldn’t kill another being in cold blood, infected or not. When she got to the door, she turned, though. She smiled, then.

Alessa let herself enjoy the spectacle of Ambrose Delancre - Earl of Romney, Vicomte du Morbihan, First Elder of the Watchers' Council - naked, gagged and bound to the bed.

She chucked, thinking about the hours that awaited him, until some brave servant dared to investigate what was keeping 'his Lord' for so long. She had accomplished some measure of revenge, anyway.

"A pity, dear, that I can't stay and enjoy you." Alessa blew him a kiss before opening the door "I didn’t even have to fake my orgasms, you know?"

"Hyde did it for me."

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 13:41.

Tuesday 5th June 2007, 10:48 pm
Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel

Daye stood before the door, Marcus a few feet away. The hour was growing late and she had to get home soon. Drew would be worried if she were gone too long. “Thanks for dinner, Marcus,” Daye said, leaning forward to brush a light kiss across his cheek. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel.”

“I’m glad,” Marcus replied. “Just try and not worry about what comes next.”

Daye nodded. “Well, good night.”

“Good night,” Marcus answered, reaching for the door to let her out of the suite.

Tash leaned breathlessly against the wall, taking a moment to compose herself before diving headlong into another fiercely passionate kiss with Onyx. Her hands roamed over Onyx’s semi-dressed body, wanting to remember every inch of her soft, supple skin. She moaned when she felt Onyx’s hands squeezing her breasts gently, and once more Tash had to remind herself why she wasn’t staying longer. She pulled back, resting her head on Onyx’s shoulder as they stood in her half-open doorway, claiming every last second before having to part.

“I’m sorry, darling. I wish I didn’t have to go, but with this battle coming up…”

“Shh, I know.” Onyx planted a soft kiss on Tash’s lips, in stark contrast to the ferocity of the previous one. “Last-minute training and preparations. I know. Once it’s all over we can spend more time together.”

Tash smiled and took the final step that placed her in the hallway, and she looked back sadly at the warm, sexy woman she was leaving behind. Onyx followed her a half-step and Tash caught up her hands, holding them to her lips as though she’d never let go. Tash’s lips began to explore Onyx’s fingers, sucking each one into her mouth sensually, and smiled when Onyx gave a small moan.

“I won’t let you leave, if you keep that up.”

“Really?” Tash replied coquettishly. “You mean, if I do this…”

She began to kiss down Onyx’s wrist and along her forearm, drawing Onyx ever closer to her until once more they were locked in a tight embrace. They were still entangled when Tash faintly heard a door open down the hall, but she didn’t care. With her head thrown back, Onyx had partly unbuttoned her shirt and was nuzzling the tops of her breasts. It wasn’t until they heard a gasp of surprise that Tash opened her eyes and turned her head slightly.

“Oh, hi Daye,” she said dreamily, slowly bringing her head back to its normal position while Onyx reluctantly abandoned her breasts.

Daye stared incredulously at Tash. She was completely bowled over by the scene she’d just witnessed in the hallway. She stood in the open doorway of Marcus’ suite and tried to decide what exactly to say or do. It wasn’t every day you found one of your closest friends engaged in foreplay with a demon in the hallway of a hotel.

“Uh… Tash?” Daye squeaked. She turned and shot Marcus a quizzical look. He just shrugged.

With an abashed smile, Tash did up the buttons of her shirt and shot an apologetic look at Daye. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know… Daye, I’m sure you know Onyx already. She and I… well, we’ve been seeing each other for a little while now.”

Tash turned her gaze to Onyx and smiled lovingly at her before returning her attention to her shocked friend. “I’ve got a lot to do tonight, so I couldn’t stay. We were just saying goodnight.”

“As were Marcus and I...” Daye’s voice trailed off as she realised the possible implications of that statement. “Saying goodnight, I mean,” she clarified. Her face was suffused with colour. “Not… er… Just saying goodnight.”

Although she wasn’t really sure what Daye’s situation was with Marcus, Tash had heard enough hints from Onyx to think that while Daye had been infected with Hyde she may have known the necromancer very well. Besides, she’d been bonking anything with two legs, so why would Marcus have been any different? Still, now that Daye was back to normal that would all be over, Tash was sure of that.

So she grinned as though Daye had made a joke, to relieve the woman of some of her consternation, and turned to give Onyx a peck on the cheek. “Well, goodnight love. I’ll come around tomorrow sometime, if I can. After tomorrow, well – you know…”

Onyx planted a firm kiss on Tash’s mouth, her eyes full of promise. “Tomorrow, then.”

After Onyx closed her door, Tash moved up the hallway and rescued Daye, sweeping a hand beneath the arm of the slowly recovering woman. “Goodnight, Marcus,” Tash said through his still-open doorway, “I daresay we need to speak soon, too.”

“Goodnight Tash,” Marcus replied, “and yes, we need to discuss some things.”

Marcus turned to Daye. “Goodnight Daye.”

“Uh, yeah… Goodnight, Marcus,” she said. She was pretty much staring at Tash though. Marcus closed the door and left them standing in the hallway alone. After a moment, Daye said, “Ready to go?”

Tash steered Daye towards the bank of elevators, letting go of Daye’s arm just long enough to press the ‘down’ button.

“Are you going to be okay? I realise you had a bit of a shock back there, but…”

Daye waited for the elevator doors to slide open and followed Tash inside. By then, however, she couldn’t seem to contain her curiosity any longer. “You… and Onyx?” Daye said, turning towards Tash with a confused frown on her face. “How..? When..? How did that come about?”

“I guess it’s one of the few things I can thank Hyde for, really. Without it, I’d never have contacted Marcus… And no, don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking. I thought it, too; that Hyde was the only reason Onyx and I were… But she came to visit me just after I was cured, and I still felt exactly the same way about her as I had before. It’s real, Daye, it’s not something that damn virus gave me. We just seem to fit well together.”

Tash looked down at her feet, a flush creeping over her face as she thought of just how well she and Onyx had fitted over the past few hours. “It’s not the same as me and Victor – he was… We had a special sort of bond. But he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. Onyx makes me feel…” Tash sighed. “When I’m with her I don’t feel like I have anything to worry about. She makes me feel warm and secure.”

Daye listened to Tash. She could understand, but it was hard to reconcile what little she knew about Marcus’ demonic advisor with what her friend was saying.

“Well, that’s good. I… I’m very happy for you,” Daye said. “I mean, you deserve to be happy. You have every right to move on, Tash. I know how hard it’s been for you since Victor… since…”

Daye’s voice trailed off. It was still so difficult to talk to Tash about what had happened. The other woman never seemed to have reached the point where she was ready to discuss it. She always seemed just on the brink of breaking. *But she’s not had the time, right?* Daye asked herself. *Ever since Victor’s death it’s been one thing right after another. When was Tash supposed to find the time to grieve or heal?*

“It’s strange, how there can be anything good, anything lasting from Hyde,” Daye mused. “I feel the same way about meeting Marcus, you know. Well, not the same way obviously, but he’s my friend, and if not for Hyde I don’t think we’d have ever managed to meet.”

Tash pushed away the twinge of grief that threatened to grow to a cascade, and focused instead on Daye’s mention of Marcus. “It must be difficult for you to see him as a friend now, though,” she said, then realised what she’d implied, and found herself stammering, “I mean, that’s assuming you actually… while you were sick, obviously… and maybe you weren’t even then, though I know you did a lot of… with lots of… well, sorry, none of my business.”

Daye’s face flushed with colour. She studied the glowing numbers above the elevator door as they quickly descended towards the hotel’s lobby.

“No,” she finally replied, “it’s all right. You’re right, of course. It’s awkward sometimes. How could it not be, right? I was the cover girl for ‘LA Slut’ magazine for a while, right? And… yes, that’s part of how I met Marcus. Honestly, sometimes I can’t fathom how I can even talk to him now, after the things I- we did, but… I like him. He was very… kind to me, and once he realized what was going on with Hyde, he was the perfect gentleman.” *Too perfect,* Daye’s little voice sneered. *He’s too damn noble.*

“Now, with everything that’s happened,” Daye continued, “with Kate and you, and all my other friends… It’s nice to have someone around who isn’t comparing me to… well, me. I’m more relaxed around him, you know? I think mostly because Marcus hasn’t any expectations or preconceived notions. It’s nice to feel like there’s at least one person who’s not watching and wondering.”

Tash gave a low laugh that was punctuated by the ‘ping’ of the elevator’s arrival at the lobby. They walked slowly through the near-deserted area as Tash replied, “You know, I think that’s part of the reason I can relax around Onyx. She didn’t know me before… and I didn’t have to deconstruct an old friendship while I had Hyde. I think of all the people I dealt with during that time, I probably treated Marcus and Onyx the best.”

Tash stopped in the middle of the room, halting Daye in mid-stride. “But be careful, Daye. I can’t tell how you really feel these days, not until this,” she tapped her forehead, “starts to come back. But you sound almost as though you’re in awe of him. He’s just a man, after all, fallible as the rest, and you do have a perfectly good man at home. I mean, I don’t know what you’re hoping for, but staying friendly with Marcus could be risky, if friendship is all you want. If not… well, you’d better make up your mind if you want to minimise the hurt.”

Tash held up a hand to Daye’s opening mouth. “Please, hear me out. There’s more. I know you know what his specialty is, and it certainly helps make him an interesting man. We’ve had some long discussions about his craft, and we worked well together, but that was when I was willing to use any means to achieve my ends. Now… well, be careful Daye. He treads a fine line – and I know he crossed it not long ago, when he helped rescue you. I don’t know if Kate told you what he did that night…”

Daye’s chin went up a notch. She knew what kind of man Marcus was. She understood that he had a different view of the world, that he had a different set of priorities than she did. Daye could understand Tash’s concern, but still, as with everyone else, Daye found it slightly grating. She was competent enough to make friends with someone without it causing heartache. She was actually quite good at friendships. Tash should know that by now. And as for having a man at home, well, what possible bearing could that have on her relationship with Marcus? He was her friend. Friendship was all she was interested in from him. It had nothing at all to do with Drew. *Except you lied to him about Marcus,* that too-honest voice pointed out. *For his own good… only for his own good. I’m not ashamed of seeing Marcus or anything. I just don’t want to upset Drew.*

“Actually, Marcus told me,” Daye replied. “I know what he did, and I understand why he did it. Sometimes a person has to make tough choices. Surely we can understand that, right Tash?”

Oh yes, Tash understood about tough choices all right, but she still wasn’t sure that summoning Death incarnate, even against their enemies, was totally necessary. Still, she decided she’d said enough – more than enough – and offered a wan smile.

“I’m sorry, I probably said too much – presumed too much. We’re all still recovering from what we’ve done and what’s happened over the past few months. If you find it comforting to talk with Marcus, who am I to say anything? Just… be careful. I know Drew is also feeling a bit delicate these days. He has a lot of healing to do, too, and he might take it the wrong way if you talk all this stuff out with Marcus instead of with him.”

Daye chewed her bottom lip nervously. They were standing in the elegantly appointed lobby, a few feet from the bank of elevators. At this late hour, the place was silent and practically deserted. Daye mused on what Tash had just said about Drew. It suddenly occurred to her that she would have to get the other woman to agree to not mention this meeting to her fiancé. Otherwise, he’d know that she’d lied to him, and that would never do.

“Uhm, well… I can see your point,” Daye finally said. “But, the thing is, I can’t talk to Drew about any of this. He won’t let me. I’ve tried – believe me, I have tried. Every time I bring up something that happened while I was infected, he waves me off and changes the subject. I don’t want to hurt him any more, Tash. I don’t want to push him, but I need someone to talk to, someone who’ll listen when it all becomes… overwhelming. You… the others… have all got your own problems to deal with right now. Marcus is, well, he’s just there. And he listens to me and I’m not afraid of what he might be thinking or if he’s taking offence or anything. He’s a friend, and right now I need as many of those as I can get.”

Tash screwed up her face in sympathy and understanding. After all, wasn’t that exactly what she was doing with Onyx? There were just the added elements of love and lust thrown in, that was all. And although Tash knew that the sort of closeness needed to confide in someone could lead to those sorts of feelings, she trusted Daye not to be that stupid, whatever her history with Marcus might be.

“I know, I do understand. We can talk among ourselves about it to a point, but we all did things to each other that stand between us at the moment. I know how that is. And I’ve got Onyx to talk to; it’s only fair you have someone to unburden yourself on, too. And if Drew is refusing to talk… maybe – would it help if I had a word with him? Do you want me to let him know that although the subject is painful for him, it will help both of you to heal if you can at least begin to talk about what happened?”

Daye’s eyes widened in panic. Tash, talk to Drew? Goddess, no, that would be disastrous. Daye shook her head quickly. “No, no…Tash, please, don’t say anything to him,” Daye replied. “I would rather you didn’t even tell him you saw me here tonight. It’s all too… raw, too fragile right now. I don’t think pushing him to talk about it would help. We really need some time – he needs some time. Once Delancre is defeated, well, things will settle down then.”

Dubiously, Tash nodded. She knew from experience that often there was never a ‘right’ time, and the sooner Daye could get things straightened out with Drew, the better. Still, the fight with Delancre was now less than two days away and Daye was right in one regard at least – they were all too highly-strung about the upcoming battle at the moment to add any more troubles.

“Sure. Don’t worry, Daye. I won’t say anything. Look, take care of yourself, huh? I’ll see you at the final planning meeting tomorrow.”

Daye nodded gratefully. “Yeah, I’ll be there. And thanks, Tash, thanks a lot. I appreciate it. You take care too,” Daye added. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 13:51.

Wednesday, 6th June 2007 – 3:05am

Alessa paid the cab driver, jumped out of the car and just stood on the sidewalk for a moment, looking up at the familiar building. She was nervous, twisting her hands. She had been planning this moment for weeks now, but unlike in her plans she hadn’t been able to send word ahead of her arriving.

*What if Darian or Cole aren’t home?* she asked herself for the thousandth time. She needed to get into the building. She had dismissed her other friends, because their places couldn’t offer her the security Poplar did, and because she knew that Darian was well able to take care of himself, same with Cole. Although she didn’t think they would need to. Delancre couldn’t have raised the alarm yet, she was pretty sure. Besides, she had been fortunate to catch a taxi, which had hurried things. And she was wearing Chastity’s form, a common occurrence in Poplar since the girl had befriended Quin.

*Diablos, if Darian isn’t home I can still ring Reah, even Dominika would open the door,* she reassured herself. She just needed to get inside. Then everything would be all right. Walking briskly up the steps she rang Darian’s bell with resolution. It was 3 am after all, and the fae would be fast asleep.

Slowly but surely, the buzzing penetrated Kyle’s deep sleep and roused him. For a while, he remained lying on Darian’s couch, but when the buzzing continued it became clear that ignoring it wasn’t going to make it go away. Neither, for that matter, was anybody else making any attempt to make it go away. He waited for a while longer, hoping Darian or Cole or somebody would sort out the sound, but they didn’t.

Prying open his eyes, Kyle sighed heavily and heaved himself up off the couch. Barefoot and clad only in his boxers, he padded over towards where the intercom was fixed onto the wall next to the door. His arms hung heavily with weariness, and his sleepy face and ruffled hair added to his weary image. Just before he answered the ringing, he checked the time and wished he hadn’t. *This had better be good.*

“What?” he asked after pressing the button, his voice equally weary.

“Gracias a Dios,” Alessa said when she heard the fae’s sleepy voice coming from the intercom. She looked up at the camera above the door and moved closer to the intercom. She knew Darian would probably recognize Chastity, but she didn’t want to start giving him excuses for the girl to call at this time of night, so she leant towards the mic and talked quietly.

“It’s Alessa, Darian. I’m in disguise, please let me in.” The urgency of her tone couldn’t be missed, even with the low quality sound these things provided.

Kyle’s fatigue fell away as he heard Alessa speak. Last he heard, she was still with Delancre, something about sleeping with the enemy for information. He wasn’t quite sure, and nobody had really properly explained it to him. To many people, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Trustworthy – not that Kyle could blame them.

But now Alessa was here at 3am and sounding urgent. She could be in danger. In fact, considering the circumstances it was extremely likely she was in some form of danger. Maybe her cover had blown or something. Despite Kyle’s earlier misgivings about the woman, and the fact she thought he was Darian, he had to let her in. For a start, he could be getting her out of whatever trouble she was in, and secondly it might just prove to everyone else he wasn’t on Delancre’s side any more.

Plus there was the fact that he couldn’t wait to see the look on Alessa’s face when she saw it was him who had helped her.

“Hang on,” he answered, doing his best Darian impression and hoping it worked. Then he hit the button to unlock the door, and threw on some jeans before stepping over towards the door to the apartment itself and opening it.

The moment the heavy door closed behind her, Alessa rested her back onto it and closed her eyes. It was over, she was safe now, she would just have to think of a way to stay hidden long enough to be able to leave LA. Delancre would not be easy to avoid. “Let’s not think of it now,” she told herself. She was already smiling at the prospect of seeing her friends again. Yes, even Darian. Changing back into her true form, she started down the hallway to the fae’s apartment on the first floor.

The smell assaulted her as she advanced down the hall; even if it wasn’t the acrid smell of smoke and ashes he had when in demon form, it was recognisable enough. She shook her head. It couldn’t be, it was probably just lingering there. Kyle’s scent. It wasn’t possible that Delancre had somehow predicted her actions and sent the demon ahead. It wasn’t possible. NO, it must be just lingering there. Kyle had been Cole’s friend, after all. However, her pace slowed and became guarded.

Darian’s apartment door was open, and as she approached it, Kyle’s scent became stronger. This wasn’t a remaining trace, this was the real thing. Kyle was here. Alessa’s face changed into a feral frown and her eyes shone red. Well, the demon hadn’t remembered about her sense of smell, so she had the upper hand here. Running fast, too fast, she got to the door and shot her arms into the apartment, grabbing the demon and pulling him out of it. As she guessed, she took him by surprise, and the next he knew she had him pressed against the wall.

“What are you doing here?! What did you do with my friends?!” she shouted, only inches from his started face. “Murdering bastard! How the hell did you know I’d come here?!”

Kyle reacted on instinct. Within seconds of being forced against the wall he was in demon form, and Alessa was dropping him against the fury of his fire. Then he was free of her hold and he-

He paused, and thought overcame instinct. What now? She’d attacked him first, so did he respond in kind? Or should he back off? After all, it was mostly just a little misunderstanding. Alessa probably didn’t know Kyle wasn’t batting for Delancre’s side any more. But would she listen?

His mind was muddled with these questions - questions he had never really asked himself before. And at 3 am they weren’t the sort of questions he wanted to ask, let alone try answering. In the end, he decided to assume a threatening stance and shout back at her. Kyle’s posture clearly showed he would damned well fight back if provoked again. “I should have known this’d be the thanks I get from trying to help you! I should have just left you outside in whatever shit you were in!”

Upstairs, the noise from below filtered through to Tash’s sleeping senses and she woke, suddenly alert to possible danger. Her returning abilities weren’t yet strong enough to reach very far, and they told her nothing, but her ears certainly warned her of something amiss downstairs. Vaulting from her bed, she hastily pulled on shorts and dragged a shirt over her head, grabbing her gun from its holster where it hung from her bedpost. Grumbling at the hour, Tash padded quickly and quietly to her door.

Opening it, she could hear the ruckus below more clearly.

“Thanks? THANKS!?” Alessa kept shouting, all the nerves and anxiety of the previous events flaring in her. “What the hell should I thank you for? Killing my friend?” She advanced on the Kaoshian, changing into demon form too. Hell if she cared about fire. She could protect herself. Warning bells sounding in her ears, and she shot a glance at Darian’s darkened apartment. Where were they? “What have you done to Darian and Cole? Have you killed them too!?”

Kyle’s mouth worked a couple of times, then he held both hands palms up. “Okay, you know what? Fuck this good-guy thing.” He took two steps towards Alessa and threw her a mean right-hook. He put all his pent-up fury behind it, and the smack of his knuckles meeting her face just felt good.

Struggling awake from a deep sleep, for several seconds Darian was at a loss as to what had awoken him. Then the screaming and yelling suddenly resolved into words he could understand and realisation dawned. “Oh no, Alessa and Kyle. Not a good mix.”

Wrapping a dressing gown around him, Darian stumbled to the door where he could see Kyle land a meaty punch on Alessa, and he winced. His sleep-fogged brain told him he should call out to Alessa and he began to open his mouth to do just that when he saw Tash coming up the hallway at a run. “Oh crap,” he muttered.

Tash slid to a stop behind the demon Kyle had just hit, and prepared to help the Kaoshian defend Darian’s apartment when she recognised who he was fighting. “Alessa?” she asked incredulously.

Too furious to pay attention to anything but the Kaoshian, Alessa rubbed her chin where he had hit her. “You bastard!” Alessa muttered the moment her head stopped spinning. She rose from the floor where she had fallen and slowly changed in the process, smiling. She knew her adversary this time; her cinnamon demon hair, way too vulnerable to flame, melted into a thick layer of scales over her demon body. Let him try to burn that!

Then the voice at her back startled her, and she turned around to see Tash standing behind her. Her eyes went round and she bared her teeth. *Maldición Delancre has sent his whole army!* “Back up Tash! I don’t have a fight with you,” she said.

Reah controlled her breath and patiently exhaled through the nose as the screaming jumped up a few extra notches. She had been lightly resting, sitting upright on the couch after unconsciously drifting off some twenty minutes prior to this moment. She’d been working late, as usual, on some weapon design sketches before starting on yet another letter to a person that still didn’t even exist yet - it saddened her, but it was one of the only things she’d found comfort in of late. It kept her sane. That, and a good bottle of Chartreuse.

On the other hand, shrill screams did not keep her sane. This was why she was now strolling sluggishly out the door and down the stairs in her daggy grey tracky-dacks and black T, slipping once on the polished floorboards as her socked feet revealed her ulterior motive that she thankfully managed to counter.

“They never let up in this place, do they! Oh no, bugger that,” Reah grumbled tiredly to herself. A quick check of the security system prepared her for what she was heading down to and she noted the new kid, Kyle, remembering their last encounter since she’d beaten him to near death at the Armoury. Very short and sweet. She’d been headed to the basement laundry, he was wandering into Darian’s – they bumped into each other and for a moment just stared as recognition settled, unmoving. Then they both merely shrugged before continuing about their business.

“You don’t have a fight with any of us,” Tash answered Alessa. “Kyle! Change back right now, damn you. What were you thinking?”

Kyle grumbled and muttered, but changed back to human form, his head hung low in embarrassment. Nodding, Tash turned back to Alessa and addressed her in a softer tone.

“Alessa, it’s okay. I don’t have the virus any more, and Kyle isn’t one of Delancre’s either. He broke his conditioning. Darian, tell her.”

Alessa looked from Tash’s face to Darian’s. The fae was nodding even before talking, and she relaxed somehow, even if she didn’t morph back to human as yet. “So, Kate found the cure after all,” she said. “That doesn’t explain his presence here anyway,” she added nodding towards Kyle.

Darian moved forward and stood next to Kyle, while Tash moved around to a far less threatening position and offered Alessa a wan smile. Here was one more person she had hurt during the past couple of months and who she needed to apologise to.

“Kate cured everyone about a week ago,” Darian chipped in. “And Kyle…”

“Kyle broke his conditioning,” Tash finished simply. Her role in that wasn’t widely known, but since she’d planted that telepathic suggestion for her own purposes she didn’t want to take any credit for it.

Kyle raised his chin proudly and smiled as if to say ‘ha! chew on that!’

Reah half heartedly trudged down the stairs, barely holding back a yawn as she approached the landing. “K, guys. Break it up already. Lets all piss in the general direction of off. People are trying to...” *What? Sleep?* “... do fuck all.”

While the others whirled at Reah’s sudden appearance, Tash merely smiled at her remarks. It was a testament to her slowly regenerating powers that she’d sensed the woman a handful of moments before she’d made her presence known.

“Good idea, Reah… the hallway isn’t a good place to talk. Um…” She looked at Alessa shyly. “Darian’s got Cole and Kyle in his flat, and Quin’s staying with Reah. But I have a spare bedroom if you want to rest. That is, if you, um, well, want to…”

Alessa looked from Darian to Reah, and then again to Kyle and Tash. Tash sounded sane enough, and neither Darian nor Reah seemed to mind Kyle… and they had both been fighting him the last time she saw them. She looked warily at the demon, anyway. She knew how strong Delancre’s conditioning was, but still, if a ‘cured’ Tash could vouch for a ‘recovered’ Kyle… it was all right with her.

With a tired sigh and a nod, she changed back to human. “Of course,” she accepted, and looked at the woman’s eyes. “I may need a little more than a resting place, though. I left the mansion, and I don’t think Delancre will be very happy about it. That’s why I came here; I gather this is a safer place to hide than most.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 13:56.

Wednesday, 6th June 2007 – 3:22am

Tash opened the door to her penthouse apartment and ushered Alessa in with a tired and somewhat nervous smile. She’d been so worried about Alessa being in that mansion, especially after what Kate had told her, and her relief to see that Alessa was all right was so great that she wanted nothing more than to wrap the woman in a huge, friendly bear hug. But with everything that had passed between them since they’d both been infected with Hyde, Tash felt too uncomfortable for such a display.

Instead, Tash gestured to one of the soft couches that graced her living room and suggested, “A drink of something? Coffee? Water? Coke? Something stronger? I know it’s late, so maybe you don’t want anything with caffeine. Maybe a herbal tea to help calm your nerves, except I don’t have any here, but I could go get some… and maybe I should stop babbling now… Look, I’ll just get some water, is that okay?”

Stumbling to an embarrassed halt in her flow of words, Tash didn’t wait for Alessa’s reply but went to the kitchen and returned shortly with two glasses of iced water. Handing one to Alessa, she perched on the other sofa and fidgeted with her drink.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Alessa, for all the horrible things I did and said over the past couple of months. I tried to use you for my own ends, and it was… Even when it turned out to be a good thing, like helping Nightwalker escape, I didn’t do it for good reasons. And I didn’t ask for your help, I threatened you to get it. I…” Tash looked down at the glass she held in her bare hands, watching a drop of water slide over the back of one tense knuckle. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Alessa smiled inwardly. She wasn’t nervous at all. In fact, her limbs were getting the languidness of adrenaline aftermath. She hadn’t realized how tense she had been since she had left Delancre. She couldn’t believe she was among friends again, without having to pretend.

She stared at Tash’s strained face and she thought that Tash needed the herb tea more than she did. And after the first moment, when she thought that Delancre had somehow predicted her movements, and Reah and Darian’s reassurances that Tash was clean now, Alessa was warming towards her once again. She looked into the woman’s brown eyes and was relieved to see the old warmth there, the old Tash, and a slow smile spread on her face.

“I don’t blame you.” She remembered telling Chance those same words and her smile faded. If she had been able to forgive Chance, how could she act differently with Tash? “I understand. You don’t have to ask for forgiveness. There’s nothing to forgive.”

She placed the glass of water on the coffee table. She felt so tired that she could cry, and Tash’s words brought too many distressing memories to her mind. She leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees and held her head with her hands. She couldn’t face Tash.

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of too, Tash.” Frustrated, she messed her hair, and idly noticed it was black again. “You know what my position was at Delancre’s house… and after all that, I’m afraid I didn’t accomplish what I wanted-” She stopped talking. She wasn’t ready to talk about that night yet. “I’m sorry too,” she said after a few moments.

“You accomplished more than I did. You managed to hold onto yourself even with the virus. You didn’t alienate all your friends in a quest for power.” Tash sighed heavily. “The problem with Hyde was that it was so insidious I didn’t even notice I was behaving oddly. It all just seemed so natural to be acting the way I was – so logical.”

Sipping from her glass briefly before placing it next to Alessa’s on the coffee table, Tash let her fingertips trail over the wooden surface and savoured the feel of the grain against her skin for a moment before turning her gaze back to Alessa.

She regarded the woman carefully for a moment before asking, “Have you cured yourself of Hyde yet?”

Alessa’s head snapped up in surprise. “How do you-?” she stopped, shaking her head. “Kate told you, of course.” She sighed, and leant backwards again onto the plush sofa. “No, I haven’t. I’m still infected. I need Inés to help me through, now that I don’t have to pretend any more…”

She chuckled, thinking of Tash’s words. “And you make me look so bright, so good. It had nothing to do with me, it was just my demon nature helping a bit.” She thought of the hurt she had seen in Ellis’ eyes the last time they were together, of Cole’s accusations, and she grimaced. She had managed to hurt those who loved her. “Ellis… did he get cured too?” she asked Tash. “He must be, Mike was in touch with Kate, after all.”

“Yes, Ellis was cured at the same time I was, as was Kolya, Quin, and Adriana. It was… an interesting night,” Tash recalled. “But now that you’re out of the mansion we should hook you up with Inés soon… and, speaking of the mansion…”

Tash leaned forward, all her earlier awkwardness with Alessa forgotten as she concentrated on the task at hand. All their planning to date had relied on conjecture as to how quickly Delancre might have recovered from Marcus’ attack – and indeed on just how much damage that attack had really caused. Tash had only been able to provide estimates, her ability to accurately gauge the effects having been hampered by Darian whisking her over the wall and Kyle knocking her unconscious.

“Speaking of the mansion, just how many troops did he lose the night I was rescued? And has he managed to get any replacements from Colombia yet? Has he advanced his plans at all? Do you know how far he’s got in finding Maia?”

Alessa’s mind quickly set on Tash’s questions. At least she could put her time in the mansion to some use. She wrung her hands. “Delancre lost about three fourths of his living troops. I’d say only about fifty survived, and about half of his mages died too. The Slayer is all right, the bitch, and so is Alice, fortunately.” She had seen the demoness now and again, but never spoken to her. She didn’t even know if Alice was infected or not.

“It was a nightmare, Tash – afterwards…” Alessa grimaced; she hated to think of that night, she could still hear the screams. “Your zombies are okay, too. That thing didn’t even touch them. He told me new troops were about to arrive in LA soon, but I don’t know exactly when. He talked about thousands…” She looked at Tash squarely. “I don’t know about Maia, I only just learned that he wanted her. He had never talked about her before; he didn’t even suspect I knew of Daye's imprisonment.”

Even after her talks with Kate and with Daye herself, Tash still blanched at the memory of her plans to kill Daye, but to Alessa she merely nodded. “Okay, good. Thousands, huh? He must be bringing most of them – if not all. He had something like ten thousand in Colombia. We’ve been planning on the basis that he’d be bringing them, assuming a worst-case scenario.”

She grabbed for her glass of water and took several swallows. “Yeah, I remember the screams too,” she whispered. “I didn’t get to see everything that happened that night, but I saw enough.”

Shuddering, she put the glass down once more and smiled faintly at Alessa, but even through the sadness of it Alessa could see the warmth behind the expression. “I know it can be tough to talk about some of this stuff,” Tash said, “but over the past several days I’ve been finding a great deal of comfort in confession, and you might too. God knows, I’ve got a lot to atone for recently. I… Oh…”

Tash’s face fell as she regarded her friend. Still a friend, even after all the terrible things they’d said to each other, and even after the ways in which they’d tried to manipulate each other. But maybe not after what she was about to say, Tash reflected. “The worst thing I did was to get someone killed, Alessa. I thought I’d done it myself, but I found out from Kate that even though I’d failed, that death still happened, and it was all because of a chain of events I set in place. I’m so very sorry, and I wish there were a way I could make up for it. I… I’m sure you know who I’m talking about.”

Tash forced herself to say the name. “It was Pelor. I stabbed him in the back, to keep him quiet after he’d told me all about the cure. He was your friend and I murdered him, just as surely as if that stab wound had been fatal.” She dropped her eyes and spoke softly. “I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I’ll understand if you can’t…” The words trailed off, but Tash’s thoughts continued, *…forgive me.*

Alessa moved restlessly on the sofa. As usual when thinking of her friend, she felt the hollow left by her amnesia even more deeply. She really didn’t want to remember what she had suffered that month, but she’d give anything to recover her time with Pelor. However, she remembered the angry red scar in Pelor’s chest, where Tash had wounded him…

“It wasn’t you who murdered Pelor, Tash, even if you were wielding the knife. It was Delancre.” She felt the old fury in her and she frowned. “It’s all a circle, Tash. You wouldn’t have stabbed him if you weren’t infected, I was the one to bring the infection to you, Pelor arrived in LA looking for me, and Kyle killed him under Delancre’s command so he wouldn’t get to me. Ultimately it all gets back to Delancre… and me. He wouldn’t be dead now, if it weren’t for me.”

A wry smile flitted across Tash’s lips as she shook her head. Even with the virus still raging through her system, Alessa was feeling guilty about Pelor – and blaming herself, when she was probably the least at fault. “No, you wouldn’t have been on the island if not for Delancre. We wouldn’t have had this virus if not for Delancre. Pelor wouldn’t have been dragooned into that army if not for Delancre.”

Tash’s eyes bored into Alessa’s, and she wished mightily that she had more of her talent back. The fragments of aura she could see around Alessa were dim and inconclusive, and she doubted that she could detect even a bald-faced lie at this point. Still, she did the best she could with what she had.

“We must stop him, Alessa. It’s the only way for any of us to really begin to heal. Will you help us?”

Alessa raised her head, surprised that Tash would even ask, but then… she had left the White Hats, it was understandable that Tash would doubt. She had thought of leaving LA, thinking that she would have no safe place there after what she had done to Delancre. Eventually he would find her and made her pay, but everything in Tash’s words and demeanour implied that they were thinking about facing him. She lowered her eyes, ashamed; she could have saved them the effort, if only she had been stronger.

“Of course I will, I just wish I could be of more help…” She stopped and looked into Tash’s serious eyes. She swallowed before talking. “I know I refused the last time you offered, but I, well, I didn’t know the things I know now. I- I’d like you to try to read me… I mean, if you want-”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could. But…” Tash held up her hands, devoid of their gloves now for nearly a week. “The cure for Hyde involved draining mana – which was what powered my abilities. I can’t read you, or anyone, for a while yet. When I’m better… I can do it then, if you still want to.”

Alessa looked at Tash’s bare hands and for the first time registered what it meant. She looked up and smiled. “Must be quite a change, huh?” she asked.

“Oh yes, it’s taken some getting used to. It’s hard... I get startled when people come up behind me now - it’s really very unnerving.”

The demoness laughed – trust Tash to be the ever on guard huntress. “Actually I meant to be able to use your bare hands, I found those gloves so confin-” She stopped guiltily, and blushed. Then she chuckled humourlessly. “I guess we should write a list of things we are sorry for, shouldn’t we?”

She wrung her hands again, thinking of the terrible things they had told each other. Alessa wasn’t cured, but she could recognize pretty well Hyde’s influence in the things she had done and said in the past.

“Some need saying though,” she went on. “I really don’t hold you responsible for Chance’s death, nor the White Hats…” Thinking about Chance was still hurting, but she could rationalise things better now. She took a breath before talking again. “I’d be honoured if you allowed me to be a White Hat again.”

“Alessa, we both said awful things to each other – hurtful things. But I also know that neither of us was in full control. So far as I’m concerned, everything is already forgiven. If we all harbour resentment about some of the things that were said and done… I know I’m mortified by my actions, and I know everyone else is by theirs. None of us would have done those things if we were ourselves.”

Tash stood suddenly and moved to sit beside Alessa on the couch she was occupying. She held out her arms in invitation, a warm smile beaming across her face. “And I would love it if you’d join the White Hats again.”

Alessa looked at her for a moment and a slow smile spread on her lips before she let herself be wrapped in her warm embrace. She had missed Tash.

delancre learns onyx's secrets

Submitted by Firefly on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 14:17.

*** Wednesday, June 6, 2007, 10 am ***

*** Watchers’ Council Research Lab ***

Ambrose Delancre wore a white coat over his finely tailored suit. His brown curls tumbled artlessly over his brow as he bent over the microscope set up on the table before him. A pair of young assistants stood off to one side, sighing and exchanging looks of longing. The First Elder was a striking man, but he was currently fairly seriously involved with that strange woman with the pretty accent. Most of the young women at the compound thought that was a shame, and pretty much any of them would have jumped at the chance to be the recipient of a warm smile from him, despite his reputedly hot temper.

Of course, Sir Ambrose didn’t care about the sighing girls. He had far more important and interesting things to occupy his mind. Such as the results of the tests they had run on the tissue and blood samples from the demon known as Onyx. He was determined to focus on this and his other problems, to push all thoughts of Alessa and the way she’d betrayed him out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not now. Besides, striking back at Alessa’s friends was the only way he could think to get back at her. She’d used and manipulated him, and like all the others who’d interfered, it was well past time that Alessa learned he was not a man to be trifled with.

Delancre straightened, lifting a report from the pile resting near the microscope. Scanning the report, he turned away from the microscope to the man standing a few feet away, waiting impatiently. “Are you sure that these results are accurate, Dr. Whit?” Delancre asked.

“Yes, absolutely sure, Sir,” Dr. Whit moved forward, all but bouncing in his excitement. “I personally reviewed each test myself when the first set of results came back. There’s no question in my mind.”

“But a Taschendre - that seems impossible,” Delancre countered. “They are supposed to be extinct. Where would this one have come from?”

“I can’t say, but the DNA results are consistent with what has been previously recorded about that species,” Dr. Whit replied. He was rubbing his thin hands together as he spoke. “The creature is capable of nearly perfect genetic control. It possesses an abundance of DNA material and should be able to adapt quickly on a genetic level. In addition, this particular demon seems to be specialized. As a member of the magic caste, Onyx would be capable of manipulating the genes of other creatures, such as the Hyde victims. That’s undoubtedly how Mr. Dalton managed Amanda Blaise’s remarkable recovery from the virus. This would have allowed them to circumvent the mana loss side effect. Essentially, there would be no physical ramifications or remnants of the disease.”

“So, this cure left her in full possession of all her faculties and her magic,” Delancre growled. “For all intents and purposes, it’s as if she was never infected at all.”

“Yes, I suppose from a purely biological standpoint that’s the truth,” Whit agreed. “It’s amazing really, what this Taschendre demon would potentially be capable of. Not only can it manipulate genes in the manner used to cure Hyde, but it could also create biological imperatives in a subject. Can you imagine? That would be like a perfect, undetectable form of conditioning. If we could get our hands on the demon; study it; if we could somehow learn to recreate these abilities; create a chemical or… I don’t know. The implications for the Watchers’ Corps would be unbelievable, Sir.”

Delancre waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Yes, yes, I can well imagine, but that’s not likely to happen. Ana failed to capture the creature. If she can’t, then I seriously doubt a live capture is even feasible.”

“What are you saying?!” Whit snapped. “Are you going to order it destroyed? Oh Sir, that would be a terrible idea. The Taschendre offers a unique scientific opportunity. It’s surely the last of its kind. I don’t think we can afford to dismiss it out of hand. There’s so much potential for discovery here.”

Delancre’s eyes grew flinty as Whit argued his case. “Excuse me, Doctor, but are you trying to tell me what to do?”

Delancre could appreciate Whit’s passion. The doctor had an insatiable appetite for science. He particularly loved the study of demons. Whit had absolutely no scruples when it came to experimentation. Delancre knew his interest in Onyx was fueled by a desire to get inside and see what made the demon tick, but there was no way that Whit’s curiosity could be worth the cost to the cause. Trying to capture Onyx had already cost them three strong, loyal soldiers and one very skilled mage. It had nearly cost him Anabella as well, and that was a thought too grim to consider. There was no way they could afford to risk losing the Slayer at this juncture.

Killing the demon would no doubt hurt Dalton, and Dalton was embroiled with Amanda and Alessa and the others. Killing the demon would be a blow to all of them. Delancre was ready to start dealing his enemies some heavy blows.

“No, Dr. Whit,” Delancre said. “There’s no way that we can consider allowing Onyx to live. Not even for the sake of your research can such a thing come to pass. The demon is highly dangerous, and even if capture was possible I shudder to think what kind of damage it would be capable of doing to the compound.”

“But, Sir…” Whit began. Delancre raised a hand imperiously to cut the man off.

“I think you overstep yourself here, Dr. Whit,” Delancre said coldly. “Your interests do not have much bearing on my decisions. You would do well to remember that my concern is success. Perhaps this Taschendre would be a source of much knowledge, but that knowledge is not necessary for our success. The demon is dangerous and allowing it to continue could jeopardize everything that I’ve worked for all these years. I can simply not allow that to happen. Surely you can understand that, Doctor.”

Dr. Whit nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Lord, I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have realized. I spoke out of turn.”

Dr. Whit sighed regretfully. The Taschendre would have proven a very interesting subject for study, but he could see that Lord Delancre’s mind was made up on the subject and Dr. Whit was too smart to push it. He knew exactly how cruel and vindictive the First Elder could be. Dr. Whit admired that streak of nasty in the man. He just didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

“I’ll have to put together a team,” Delancre mused. “Now that we know what we’re dealing with, we can make sure no further mistakes are made. Thank you, Doctor.”

Whit nodded. Delancre was dismissing him. Just as well. He had plenty of other things to work on. There was no sense dwelling on this one.

Delancre left the lab, feeling as if he’d finally begun to make strides in putting down this troublesome group once and for all. He would get back at them all, each and every one. He would crush them. Amanda, Alessa, Natasha: they would all pay for interfering in his plans.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 14:36.

*** Wednesday, June 6th, 2007, 12:11 pm ***
*** 1318 Poplar Avenue, Apartment 205 ***

Daye sat on the sofa in the living room of their temporary home. Maia was asleep on the floor, sprawled out on a thick blanket. Her fist was tangled in her dark curls and the thumb of her other hand was nestled in her mouth. In a little while, Daye would have to wake the girl and head over to Kate’s for the final planning meeting before tomorrow night’s attack.

Daye had a book balanced on her knee and a notebook open on the arm of the sofa. She was nibbling on the end of her pen as she studied. She wanted to refresh her memory on some more complicated healing spells. She had a good knowledge of basic healing magic, but it was by no means where her strength lay. Still, she would do her best not to use offensive magic during the battle with the Watchers' Corps. It was too close to the dark power she'd dabbled in while suffering from the Hyde virus and she just wasn't ready to deal with that yet.

The apartment was silent as a tomb. Since Daye had come home from the bookshop just after lunch, Sam had taken the opportunity to go out, something he so rarely did. He'd left a couple of hours before with his portable computer and Daye knew he'd probably headed for the nearby park to sit in the shade somewhere and write. It was too crowded around here most of the time for him to feel comfortable doing so.

Drew had gone out as well. He had received a call from the Dean of the Anthropology College at UCLA and left to take a meeting with the man. Daye could tell that Drew was worried. He'd taken way too much time off this last semester thanks to all the trouble she'd caused. He was probably in hot water with his boss. That was just another thing for her to feel bad about. Sometimes, Daye had to wonder how she'd draw her next breath under the combined weight of guilt and expectations.

Alessa looked at the bronzed numbers on the door for a few minutes before knocking. She had been avoiding friends – and not so friends – the whole morning. She didn’t want to talk with people while she was still infected; it wasn’t completely honest and fair, but she knew that she couldn’t take the risk of not talking at all. The thought of the ritual she was going to face that night made her cold with fear; she had not told her friends about the danger implicit in taking the Primal Form and she didn’t want them to know. It was only fortunate that mana was low around, or they would have known just by talking to her.

That was why she was going to face Daye now. From her friends, she thought Daye was the one she had failed most; her and Ellis. But she couldn’t face Ellis yet. She still couldn’t believed how much the woman had suffered in the mansion while she had been so close and able to help. Yet she had done nothing but fill herself with lame excuses that she could have overstepped any time. So what if Tash would have learnt of her being able to see Daye? Or if the Trenoil'ka could have recognized her ruse? Still she should have tried to make sure Daye was still all right. Alessa shook her head, she had no excuses at all.

Daye's head came up at the sound of the gentle knocking on the front door. Before she could even get up off the sofa though, Ryan came up the hallway. He passed her, shaking his head.

"I'll get it," he said. The intercom had not alerted them to a visitor, which indicated that more likely than not the person at the door was one of the other White Hats who were currently staying in the building. The security at Poplar Avenue was very good, but still, Ryan wasn't about to trust to that alone. There was still a possibility that danger waited just on the other side of the door.

Readying himself to attack if necessary, Ryan slowly opened the door. A pretty young woman stood on the other side, looking apprehensive but determined. Ryan didn't recognize her.

"Can I help you, Miss?" he asked, his voice gravelly and soft.

Alessa looked surprised at the tall demon, and then remembered that Tash had told her Daye's friends were staying with her to keep her safe. She recognized him immediately.

"Nightwalker, I'm glad to see you are still all right," she smiled up at him. "My name is Alessa, I wanted to see Daye, if she can."

Ryan's eyebrows shot up at her greeting. He could not recall meeting this woman before, but she apparently knew who he was and was acquainted with Daye.

"Miss Alessa," he said, "Daye is-"

"Right here and more than capable of meeting with a friend, Ryan," Daye said from behind him, a slightly annoyed tone in her voice. "Forgive him, Alessa, he's incapable of being polite."

The demoness smiled nervously and she looked up at the demon again, a question in her own curved eyebrows. Daye's annoyed tone couldn’t hide the warm affection behind it; obviously this demon was somebody special to her.

"I'm sure he can be polite if asked nicely," Alessa said but her smile faltered at the continued immobility of the demon's face. "And I'm asking nicely," she pressed, in a renewed attempt to make him smile. "Obviously I didn’t play you well, amigo" she added to herself as he seriously moved aside to let her in. She sighed and walked in. "So much for my dramatic abilities."

Ryan turned towards her, recognition finally dawning in his eyes. "You're Natasha's friend. The one who helped me escape," he said, sounding apologetic. "I'm sorry. I should have recognized you. "

Alessa turned to him, smiling broadly now. "Don’t worry, you didn’t see me after all and Tash wasn’t in her best moment then." She looked at the demon's face again, serious this time. "I'm really glad to have been of help." *To somebody,* she added inwardly.

"Thank you, Miss," Ryan said. "You couldn't possibly know how much your help meant to me. It's because of you that I managed to escape and because of you that Daye is safe now. Thank you very much."

Alessa nodded. "I should have done more…" she said, turning apprehensive eyes towards Daye, who was curiously watching the exchange. She looked so much better than the last time she had seen her, but she still bore traces of her ordeal. Alessa flushed, and she bit her lip in shame. "I could have done more."

Daye glanced at Ryan. She inclined her head to indicate that perhaps he should leave them alone and he seemed to get the hint. Without another word he moved down the hall towards the bedroom, leaving the two women standing in the hall near the living room.

"Alessa, come in and sit down," Daye insisted. "We obviously have some things to talk about."

Alessa nodded again, and smiled. "Yes, we have." She followed Daye towards the living room and smiled at the small bundle of sleeping Maia. The girl looked like an angel, completely oblivious of the worried adults in the room. Alessa sat down after Daye's gesture and waited a second before talking.

"I'm very sorry about all this, Daye." she lowered her eyes and looked away from the woman. "I was in the mansion the whole time, and I didn’t do anything to help you. I didn’t even learn about the… what Delancre did-" She stopped talking, blushing again.

Daye was not surprised by Alessa's admission. She'd been told by both Tash and Kate about Alessa's plans. She knew the demoness had been at the mansion at the same time as her.

"Alessa, I don't blame you for what happened to me," Daye assured her friend. "I made a choice, a very bad choice, but still it was my choice. I went back to the mansion. I was caught and I was tortured. No one is to blame for any of that but me. You had no obligation to endanger yourself. I didn't expect you to, and frankly, I'm glad that you didn't. I would hate to have it on my conscience that my foolish decision messed up your plans as well. I've already got enough to feel guilty for."

Alessa let out a humourless chuckle. "My plans didn’t end up well, either. Even if I didn’t get caught." She brushed her hair back from her face and raised her head to watch Daye. "I understand you, though. I didn’t want to put anybody in danger when I was inside, but still I feel that I should have done more than give you some chocolate."

Daye's eyes widened in surprise. She laughed softly. "So that was you," she said. "Well, I should have guessed, I suppose."

Daye rose from where she'd been sitting in the armchair and came to sit beside Alessa on the sofa. "Alessa, you should know you did do more than just give me some chocolate. When you came to see me, even though I didn't know who you were, you gave me hope. It didn't matter whether or not I actually believed that you were going to bring help. All that mattered was that for a short time, I was connected again. I was reminded that there were decent people out there, people worth fighting for. What you did, that one little kindness, that made it possible for me to hold out as long as I did. It was important to me, more than I can ever tell you. I'm grateful to you, Alessa."

Alessa gripped Daye's hand strongly, and she smiled at the taller woman. "I'm glad, Daye. You don’t know how much." She stayed silent for a little while, feeling a bond grow between herself and the witch. She didn’t begin to understand what Daye had been through, but still she could empathize with her.

“It’s funny, Alessa,” Daye finally said. “You may be the only person who can really understand what I’m going through now. You trusted him too. He manipulated you, just as he did me. I know that there are a lot of us who suffered because of the virus, but what Delancre did to us, I dunno, it was more… personal, I guess. I think maybe you might understand how I feel now.”

“I think I do,” Alessa answered slowly, and she felt the old anger rise in her again. The deceit, and manipulation, being the tool to hurt her friends… all that had prompted her to take her revenge. But the rage this time was directed at herself too. She had had that monster at her mercy and left the opportunity pass, what for? She had asked that endless times since she had left the mansion and been able to think straight again. She was ashamed of her own weakness. However, the joy of having been able to get some measure of revenge still lingered in her and she couldn’t help her mouth from curving in a smile.

The smile curling Alessa's lips was decidedly bloodthirsty and Daye couldn't help but wonder what exactly had happened between the demoness and Lord Delancre behind closed doors. She frowned.

"I, uh, I guess you're glad to finally be out of the mansion, right?" Daye asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Alessa looked at Daye’s frowning face and controlled herself quickly. She didn’t want Daye to worry more than she needed, she would keep her failure to herself. With a reassuring smile she pressed the woman’s hand again, “It’s incredible, the freedom of it. I had to pretend for so long it’s great not to anymore. Delancre: well - it wasn’t easy.”

Daye laughed mirthlessly. "At least you have some talent at it," she said bitterly. "I couldn't manage to pull off a decent pretence for a day. That's how I ended up in that dungeon."

Alessa smiled sadly at Daye. “Well, you weren’t infected. I had Hyde on my side. I used the virus against him.” She blushed; memories of her shameless behaviour with the First Elder clear in her mind. She fidgeted with her skirt, blushing even more furiously at what those memories still made her feel. She chuckled, controlling herself. “It’s strange, this virus. How it affects you.”

Daye grimaced. She could very well understand why Alessa was blushing. She could hardly countenance the things she’d done while acting under the influence of the virus. “Yes, I know what you mean,” she said softly. “Although the virus doesn’t cause any actual aberrant behavior. That’s the really hard part, knowing that no matter what was going on with Hyde, the choices I made, those were still my choices."

Daye paused. "And even after I was cured, I really wasn't thinking clearly or taking other people into consideration. I should have come home. Mar- my friend, the one who helped me overcome Hyde, he told me to do just that. I ignored him and went charging right back into the belly of the beast. What happened after that is all my own fault."

Alessa cocked her head and just looked at Daye. She wondered how she would react after tonight. She knew her own case of Hyde was mild; she hadn’t done the kinds of things her infected friends had done. She hadn’t killed anybody, she hadn’t joined the mob and started ‘whacking’ people, she hadn’t tried to become a god – but she had hurt Ellis; she had neglected her friends. She had slept with the enemy…

She was thinking clearly enough to discern that. Was she feeling ashamed? Guilty? A little, but she had done what it had to be done. Delancre deserved what he got and more, and all her previous actions led to just that. She was more ashamed about not killing him than about sleeping with him. A part of her still ached for the release he gave her.

“I- I wouldn’t know,” she said at last, biting her lip. “I know I’m sorry about a lot of things. Not helping you more is one of them. I’m a little afraid of finding out what else will I be sorry about after tonight.”

Daye nodded. “I understand. Sometimes I think the guilt – the regret – is almost more than I can stand. And yet less than I deserve.” Daye looked away, obviously lost in her own thoughts for a moment. “I’m trying so hard to go back; to be who I was before, but…”

Daye sighed. “You shouldn’t worry too much, though. Compared to some of us, the things you did; well, you’ve behaved better than me, I can tell you that. I betrayed so many people…”

Alessa reached to grasp her friend’s hand again. She could understand what Daye was going through, although she thought that only those who had suffered the effects of Hyde could. She had hurt people, true, but she had been infected.

She didn’t agree with those who thought that it only surfaced what people already had inside; that was overrating free will. Temptation is always there, but people balance it, ponder, decide, use their free will. Hyde took the free from the will; it left people without the power of making unconstrained choices. Temptation is as part of human beings as the limits they create are.

“I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself, Daye,” she said slowly, trying to put her thoughts into words. “It wasn’t you who did all those things. I don’t agree with you, those weren’t your choices.” She made the woman look at her. “The loving, caring Daye I know wouldn’t have done those things, I agree with you. Because the loving, caring Daye has a conscience to rule her actions.

“Don’t tell me that you'd never been tempted before, because I guess you'd be lying to me. Don’t tell me you never looked at a man and felt your blood heat and your pulse race, even if you'd never seen him before, that you've never had fantasies. However, we rarely act upon those fantasies because we have a conscience. What’s worst with Hyde is that it takes your conscience away. It leaves you just with temptation.

"You are not responsible, you couldn’t choose." Alessa searched Daye's eyes with hers again. "And you didn’t deserve what happened to you, no matter what you'd done before."

Daye paused. She jumped up from the sofa and began pacing the room, obviously agitated. “All my life, I’ve tried to be what other people expected me to be. My mother: I loved her, but she had an idea of who I would be and I always tried so hard to make sure that I lived up to that idea. After she died, when the Council took me in, then I had an even higher standard to live by. I’ve always known I was different. I’ve had power most of my life and I’ve always been taught that I have certain responsibilities. I’m “The Guardian”. There’s an ancient prophecy that makes me a caregiver, right? So I’ve always known that I’m supposed to do certain things, put duties and obligations ahead of my own selfish interests.”

Daye stopped. She turned towards Alessa and the look in her eyes pleaded for understanding. “When I was infected, when I had the Hyde virus, for the first time in my life I took without worrying about the consequences, without worrying about anybody but myself – and it felt good. That’s what really scares me. It felt so good to just let go, to just be selfish.”

Alessa bit her lip. "I know. I understand." She looked up at Daye, and she tried to put all her might in her words. "I can understand it. That yearning to be normal. It's not selfish to wish for normalcy, to be like everybody else. We are not so different, Daye. I also wanted to be normal all my life."

She averted her eyes, remembering years of not belonging. "I'm not human nor I'm a demon, I've never belonged to any world. Hyde let me not care anymore." She chuckled, "It cannot be coincidence that I improved my abilities while infected. A part of me doesn’t want to lose that – that carelessness. I'm afraid to be back to my usual being. We cannot be so different from the rest of the world either, Daye, in this wish to just let go."

“Maybe not,” Daye admitted. “But in letting go, I hurt people – very deeply. I won’t do that again. I can’t. I have to be careful, from now on. That’s all I know. I won’t behave the way I did while infected ever again. I won’t forget that my actions have ramifications. I have responsibilities and I can’t shirk them. That’s the only way I can ever really make amends. That’s the only way I can live with what I’ve done.”

Alessa nodded and extended her hands to grasp Daye's and make her sit down again. "We all have to live with our burdens, amiga. Just remember you don’t have to carry them alone. You have friends to help."

"I won't forget that," Daye said, smiling at the other woman. "Just make sure you don't either."

Alessa beamed at her friend. "I think we have a deal," she said.

Kate and Daye Talk After the Final Meeting

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 14:41.

***Wednesday, 6th June 2007 – 6:14pm - Outside Kate's House***

Daye finished strapping Maia into her car seat and prepared to get into the van and head back to the Poplar building. Her mind was on the meeting she'd just left, the final planning session the White Hats had scheduled before tomorrow night's attack on Delancre.

Everyone had gone over their roles from the beginning once again, and Daye knew that they were all as prepared as they could possibly be, but she couldn't stop worrying. There were so many things that might go wrong tomorrow. Even with the destruction Marcus had wreaked on Delancre’s troops, they still faced such danger going after the man and his well-trained army. Daye was scared, more than she'd ever been before.

"Mama, where Lulu?" Maia asked as Daye slid into the driver’s seat.

"Uhm, Baby, I think you left Maia's bear inside," Drew said, glancing back at the little girl.

Daye sighed, shaking her head. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Drew leaned back over the front seat and felt around, checking the bag sitting beside Maia's car seat. "Yeah, no Lulu in sight," he confirmed. "You want me to go?"

"No," Daye replied, shaking her head. "I think I remember where she left it. It'll be faster if I go."

Drew shrugged. "Okay, cool – we'll wait here."

Daye slid out of the van and hurried back up Kate's front walk. She came to the door and was about to knock when she hesitated. It was still difficult being around her friend sometimes, and Galen was home as well, which was way worse. Maybe if she just slipped inside she could grab the bear, which Maia had left by the picture window in the living room where she'd been playing quietly with Drew while the others discussed things.

Daye grabbed hold of the door handle and gave it a quick turn. The door came open and she went inside. She was headed towards the living room when she was brought up short by the sound of raised voices coming from that direction.

“Why do you always try to turn this back on to me? I’m not exactly being unreasonable here!” Galen’s voice echoed loudly in the empty house, his anxiety and annoyance clearly reflected in his uncompromising tone.

“No, Galen, that’s the point,” said Kate, her as voice equally determined and stubborn as her husband’s. “You are being unreasonable. We agreed on this, we worked through every detail! Now you want to change all that just because you want to play the dominant male?”

“All I want,” stressed Galen rigidly, “is to protect my wife! Why is that suddenly such an untenable concept?” He sighed wearily, running his hands through his hair in a bid to ease his frustration. “My god, why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time? All I’m saying is that if you’re going to be on that battlefield I want to be there too, fighting by your side! We’re supposed to be a team for crying out loud! Why is it okay for you to risk your life but not me?”

“Because we’re different!” exclaimed Kate irritably, “I can protect myself, I’ve been fighting these kinds of battles since I was a teenager, I know how to handle myself. I just don’t want you to get hurt!”

Galen threw his hands up in the air. “Sometimes Kate, sometimes you make me feel about this small, you know that?”

Daye stood frozen in the hall, an unwilling eavesdropper. She tried frantically to figure out a way to sneak back out without being heard. Would they notice if she just slipped back out the door and knocked loudly to get their attention? Well, it was certainly worth a shot. Daye turned back towards the door but unfortunately her hip brushed the small table just beside it and a pretty glass bowl went skittering towards the floor. She managed to grab it before it broke, but she knew there was no way that Kate and Galen could possibly have missed the sound.

Kate and Galen both fell silent mid-argument at the sounds from the hallway, sharing a brief moment of confusion before they headed in that direction. Kate was the first to get there, stopping short in the doorway as she saw Daye desperately clutching her mother’s antique rose bowl against her breast and a rather guilty look plastered across her face.

“Amanda…” said Kate in surprise as Galen joined her, his hand resting supportively upon her hip, “we…” Kate glanced towards the living room, realising that Daye must have heard their quarrel, “we thought you’d gone already.”

Daye flushed guiltily. "I did... I had..." she stammered. This was just great. She and Kate were just barely starting to get back on even footing and she and Galen couldn't manage eye contact, and now she was standing in their hall looking for all the world like she'd been deliberately spying on them.

"Maia left Lulu – her bear?" Daye continued, looking down at the ground. "I think it's in the living room. That's where I saw it last," Daye shrugged. "I came back because she can't sleep without it... and I thought maybe I could just grab it and go without disturbing you. I- I should have knocked."

“Lulu… I think I saw her somewhere,” murmured Kate distractedly as she turned and led the way back into the living room, purposefully ignoring Amanda’s discomfort. She had tried her best to bottle every drop of resentment she’d felt that afternoon as they planned and plotted their attack on Delancre but she would have had to be blind not to see the uncomfortable glances that had passed between her husband and Amanda. Though Kate had tried her best to put those feelings behind her, seeing them both in the same room together, imagining the two of them in bed together… it made her feel physically ill.

“Emma was the same,” she said in an effort to distract her thoughts, spying the small teddy bear by the window. “She would never settle without Blue Bunny.” Kate strode over to the bear and picked it up, turning the toy over in her hands before holding it out to Daye. “Here.”

"Thank you, Kate," Daye said, taking the stuffed toy. She turned back towards the hall, but paused when she saw that Galen had followed them and stood between her and the door.

"Uhm, I should just..." Daye started to try and figure out how to get out of the room without coming anywhere near Kate's husband. She didn't want to be there, didn't want to know that they had been fighting. She had heard enough to understand why, but she really didn't want to get involved, even if her little inner voice was telling her to say something.

Daye walked around the sofa, skirting the outer edge of the room to avoid coming into contact with Galen, who was pointedly ignoring her. She was almost out into the hall when she turned back, unable to help herself. "I know this is none of my business, and I should stay the hell out of it, but... I think Kate is right about this, Galen. You- you're not equipped to deal with the kinds of things that we are. That's not meant to make you feel small, although I can see how it would. It's just that no one wants to see you get hurt."

Galen glanced awkwardly at Kate who looked particularly uneasy herself. She had the same expression on her face that she got whenever Daye came up in conversation or when she came home after a healing session with the woman. He knew it was tough on her, worse than her own infidelity because she still had to live with Amanda in her life whereas Damen was an entirely different story.

“Well, thanks for the advice,” he said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but-”

“See? I’m not the one being unreasonable,” interrupted Kate. At Galen’s irritated sigh, she glanced at Daye before turning back to her husband. “I just want you to be safe. I couldn’t do anything to protect Emma and I don’t want to lose my husband as well as my daughter!”

“The difference being I’m not a child, Kate!” snapped Galen, almost forgetting that they had company. He rubbed his forehead stressfully, slowly moving towards where Kate stood. Galen reached out his hand and cupped her cheek tenderly. “You know that I would do anything for you, but I won’t hide out of the way while you risk your life just to be safe. I’m not a coward so don’t ask me to be one.”

Daye listened, feeling very much like an intruder. *Which you are,* she chided herself. Still, Galen had a good point, even if she could see Kate's as well. There had to be some way – some compromise.

"Galen," Daye suddenly burst in, "I just had a thought. I- well, I'm sure you've no reason to want to do me any favours, but there's something... something you could do for me during the battle. Something very important."

Galen’s hand slid down Kate’s shoulder and by her side before his fingers sought out hers, his hand holding onto Kate’s tightly. “And what is that?” he asked uneasily, turning his attention to Daye. It felt strange to talk to her directly; he’d barely held her gaze for longer than a few seconds since they… Galen’s hand tightened around his wife’s supportively; he didn’t want her to hurt any more than she had been over this but he bitterly deplored his behaviour towards Amanda recently, treating her as though she didn’t even exist. The trouble was he just didn’t know what to do for the best anymore.

Daye felt very disconcerted with Galen's attention actually directed at her. She had been avoiding him as much as he'd been avoiding her, both of them tiptoeing around so as to try and spare everyone involved any further pain or embarrassment.

*You created this mess, so you'll have to be the one to start to untangle it,* Daye told herself. She mentally steeled herself and raised her eyes to him, keeping her gaze steady and direct. "Maia. I've been very worried that Sam alone is not adequate protection for my little girl. He's not exactly a well-trained or experienced fighter. You, on the other hand, know how to fight and... I trust you. If you would stay near her, keep an eye on both her and Sam, I would be very grateful. They'll be near Kate's Sindell friends, and from that vantagepoint you'll be able to see everything going on in the canyon as well. But, you'll be safer than you would be trying to follow Kate into battle."

“Well that would…” Galen turned to face Kate and get her opinion on this. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted but it was better than him sitting on the sidelines not even able to help. He knew he wasn’t the best warrior in the world and he was no mage, but he could hold his own and if he was up on the ridge he would be able to watch Kate’s back. It was better than nothing.

Kate squeezed Galen’s hand gently, rubbing her fingers around his. Of course she was still uncomfortable with this whole thing but she could see the validity of Daye’s plan and if she was honest with herself she would feel safer knowing that Galen was somewhere keeping an eye out for her. Besides, Kate loved Maia like she was her own and in her opinion there was nobody better qualified to help protect her.

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Kate eventually, “and I do want you there, Galen,” she said, looking up at her husband, “just not in the thick of things. Protecting Maia is the most important thing here. If anything should happen to us you need to make sure that she’s safe.”

Daye nodded. "Yes, if we... if we don't succeed, then somehow we must be sure that Maia gets away safely. I don't know, I have no idea how that would be, but if anyone could protect her, I believe you can," Daye said. Acting purely on impulse, Daye moved across the room to where they both stood. She stopped before them and took one of each of their hands in her own.

"There's no one else, not in the whole world, that I would trust with Maia. If anything should happen, if for some reason I don't... I don't just mean tomorrow. You... you're the only people I know who can possibly understand her and protect her. If, for some reason, I were not to make it out of this... or at some other point when the whole world is next in jeopardy, I want you both to know that I'd want you to take care of my little girl."

Galen shared an uneasy glance with his wife, an unspoken agreement passing between them. Of course they would look after Maia if anything went wrong, it went without question but especially if it was what Amanda wanted.

“You know we would,” said Kate uneasily, looking down at Daye’s hand as she held tightly onto her own. Gently she pulled away, making it into a gesture of having to brush a lock of hair from her eyes; she just wasn’t ready to start acting like they were the best of friends all of a sudden.

“Though, you know I think Drew might have something to say about that…” she laughed awkwardly, releasing Galen’s hand too and taking several steps aside from this ‘happy trio we’re gonna save the world’ scenario.

Daye realised immediately that she'd pushed things a little too far – and that she was now holding only Galen's hand. She darted a look at him and stepped back away as if she'd been burned. *That was suitably awkward,* she thought wryly.

"Uh, well, I just meant that... well, he's not equipped... not really," Daye stammered. "And I really am grateful that Maia has people like you in her life, people who can understand the world she's been born into and help her to understand it as well."

"Galen, thanks for agreeing to keep an eye on her tomorrow. I'll feel so much better knowing that she's with you." Daye backed slowly towards the door. "I should probably get going – Drew and Maia are in the car."

Galen cast Kate an urgent glance as Daye made towards the door. Things had started off awkward and rapidly deteriorated but despite Kate’s reluctance he knew that she wanted things to work between herself and Amanda. They had been very good friends once and he hated the fact that he was partly to blame for the demise of that relationship.

“What?” mouthed Kate noiselessly to Galen’s insistent gesturing.

“Say something…” Galen mouthed back silently, waving his hands in Daye’s direction. It was true that Amanda had more to make up for than Kate but he knew that she’d have to at least try and meet the woman along that path if they were to get back their friendship. It couldn’t all be one sided.

Kate rolled her eyes, turning to Daye’s retreating form, “Daye…” she said finally, holding back a sigh. As the woman looked back, pausing in the entranceway, Kate continued. “I’ll be assisting the healers on the battleground. I was hoping you would be part of our team. We really need your expertise.”

Daye was surprised, but touched by Kate's words. The other woman had no reason to be willing to work with her, especially not while they were both embroiled in bitter conflict. She had no reason to trust Daye anymore, but the fact that she was still willing to try said a lot.

"Of course, I can't think of anything I'd rather do," Daye agreed readily. "I've always thought we make a good team, Kate. Thanks for asking me."

Kate nodded agreeably though significantly less enthusiastically than her friend. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

daye and ryan talk before the finale

Submitted by Firefly on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 14:47.

*** Thursday, June 7, 2007, 10 am ***

*** 205 Poplar Avenue ***

Daye sat cross-legged on the living room floor before an elaborately detailed, hand-made dollhouse, holding a doll in her hand that bore a striking resemblance to her. Drew and Sam were back at their house, airing out the place and getting it ready for them to move back in tomorrow. It was a hopeful, optimistic gesture. A silent way of saying, “We will win!” Daye was glad that they were doing it, glad that they were so positive about the outcome of tonight’s battle. She wished she could be as sure.

Maia sat a few inches away from her, bending over her dollhouse and babbling as she danced the little girl doll from one room to the other. On the floor, scattered around them both were the “Daddy” doll, a brother doll, and a few others that Maia didn’t really identify with. Daye watched her playing and every so often, she would reach out to brush a hand over the girl’s ebony curls or stroke her baby soft cheek.

While Maia played contentedly, Daye’s mind wandered to the coming battle. Despite lingering resentments between them all, the White Hats were coming together without hesitation to face this threat. Daye felt an enormous sense of pride to be friends with people who would so readily risk themselves again and again for a world that would never even recognize the sacrifice. She was also terrified that this time they would not be strong enough or smart enough to overcome their adversary. Daye knew that part of her fear stemmed from the ordeal that Delancre had put her through, but she also recognized that this evil was somehow very different from what they had faced in the past. Unlike insane gods or vampire elders, Delancre was a mortal man; but he was so twisted, so brilliant, that he had nearly brought them all to their knees.

Daye couldn’t help but think, as Maia played so happily, that there was more at stake this time as well, at least for her if for no one else. She was a Watcher. She had been one for so long. The Watchers’ Council had been her life, provided her purpose and shelter and given her a home and family, things she so desperately needed after her mother’s death. It had been her whole world until she came to Los Angeles. It was only in the last two years that Daye had found something more important to her than the Council. The White Hats, her friends and allies, had come to mean so much more to her now, but it was still so hard to think of turning her back on the Council for good. By turning on Delancre, though, that was what she would be doing.

Ambrose Delancre had been the one to “rescue” Daye when she was a scared, lonely teenager. He’d brought her to the Watchers. He’d given her a home. She’d looked up to him, respected him, and loved him in a way. Delancre had been the father she’d never known. Until the terrible incident between Delancre and Ryan, Daye had trusted the man implicitly. Even after that, when she’d had Baldur to show her that the Council was still a good thing to believe in, Daye had been disillusioned, but she’d still thought of the Council as her home and the other Watchers as her family. She had never acknowledged the fact that Delancre had been the one responsible for Ryan’s “death”, not really. They had been estranged, but she had neither hated nor abandoned him in her heart. Both the Watchers and Delancre had had her loyalty, even when she was questioning their methods and growing in independence.

Now, preparing to rise against the First Elder and his minions, Daye was finally able to see that there was nothing more for her as a Watcher, that it had been her fear and misguided sense of duty that had kept her a part of the organization for so long. She was no Watcher. She didn’t share their beliefs or have the right disposition to be one. She never really had. She’d simply done what was safest, what was expected of her, like so many other times in her life. But now was the time to take stock and make changes. She couldn’t go back to the life she’d once had, but she could try and make herself a new one. The first step was opposing Delancre. He wanted power at any cost. He wanted to become a god, to rule over everyone and everything. He couldn’t be allowed to see those plans come to fruition.

The only thing that still worried Daye was the danger she was putting Maia in. She had been hesitant to suggest using her daughter as bait, but there was nothing that Delancre wanted more. He was too smart to fall for the feint without the proper incentive. Maia was that incentive. He needed her, and he would be willing to take risks to get her. Couple that with his infamous temper, which their attack on the mansion would surely arouse, and they had a very good chance of luring Delancre into their trap. He would never suspect the force they had managed to bring together.

Using Maia as bait was a good idea. It would insure they had a chance of succeeding. The only thing was, if they failed then they would be delivering the girl directly into the hands of the enemy. That was the reason Daye had been so leery of suggesting this alternative. Sam would be there to protect Maia, but in the long run if the White Hats fell, he would be no match for Delancre and his minions. This was a very dangerous ploy. If they failed, all would be lost.

“But we aren’t going to fail,” Daye whispered fiercely. She stroked Maia’s silken curls. “I’ll never let him get his hands on my baby. Never.”

“Neither will I.” Ryan’s gruff voice interrupted her thoughts. Daye turned towards the doorway and saw him standing there, looking like he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome or not.

“Hi, Ryan,” Daye smiled warmly at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be up in the training room. Maia and I were just enjoying having the place to ourselves. Drew’s got some meetings at the University and Sam went out for a walk.”

“I was - in the training room, I mean,” Ryan replied. “Some of your friends - they showed up and… I just thought it was time to leave.”

Daye sighed. He was still avoiding everyone all the time. “You can’t keep this up, Ryan. You can’t avoid other people forever. The only people you ever spend any time with are the ones in this apartment, and you only seem to genuinely be comfortable with Maia and me. You have to try, you know. You’re not the ‘Nightwalker’ anymore. It’s time to reclaim your life.”

Ryan shrugged self consciously. “Daye, I’m just not… Your friends, I don’t… I’m sorry.”

Daye shook her head. “What am I going to do with you? You can’t keep going on this way.”

Ryan didn’t reply. Maia had finally noticed him standing there and come over to lead him to where she and Daye had been playing. The little girl was smiling brightly at him as she handed him one of her dolls. She sat back down, obviously absolutely sure that Ryan would be willing to play along. He felt suffused with warmth. No matter what other worries he had, at least he knew that Maia accepted him completely and without reservation.

Thinking of Daye’s words, Ryan watched Maia pensively. He was crazy about the girl. She was sweet and wonderful and very nearly made him believe that there was hope. Every day he spent with her, and with her mother, made him yearn more and more for the life he could never have. It was the only life he wanted, though. To be the father to his little girl and to be with the woman he loved, had always loved, that was what Ryan longed for, what could never be. Daye was the woman he loved, nothing for him had changed in the years that had passed. Maia was his little girl, though she barely knew him. That didn’t matter to Ryan. He felt the way he felt. There was no way to change that. But this wasn’t his family; no amount of wishing would make any difference to that.

“Play wif us, Ry’n,” Maia urged, gesturing with one chubby hand to the dollhouse and dolls.

“You better do what she says,” Daye said, laughter in her voice. “She can be a tyrant, you know.”

Maia frowned at her mother, but then shrugged and went back to her game. Ryan hunkered down beside them and began to play. He kept casting surreptitious glances at Daye, though.

“Are you all right?” Daye finally asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm. Ryan couldn’t help himself. He visibly tensed at her gentle touch. “Talk to me, Ryan, please. I can’t figure out what’s exactly going on in your head, but I know something isn’t right. What is it?”

“Daye, you shouldn’t worry about me,” Ryan said softly. “You have enough to worry about. I can take care of myself. I’ll be okay. As soon as Delancre is dealt with, everything will be okay.”

“You scare me when you talk about that,” Daye admitted. “It doesn’t sound like you care if you make it back, just as long as Delancre is stopped. I know we’re all on the same wavelength when it comes to that, but I feel like you- you don’t care about anything else. That scares me.”

“That’s not true,” Ryan replied softly. “I do care about something. I care about Maia - and you.”

Daye looked up into Ryan’s eyes and saw the haunted expression there. His arm was tense beneath her touch. “Ryan, I…” Daye didn’t know how to respond.

“It’s okay,” Ryan replied. “I know. I don’t want anything from you. I just… I can’t help it. All I want is to stop Delancre, to be sure that you both are free and safe. I can’t think about anything else. I can’t imagine what might come next.”

“But why?” Daye asked. “Why can’t you hope? Is it that hard?”

Ryan nodded slowly. He reached out to gently, slowly touch Maia. “It’s harder than I ever would have believed anything could be. All those years when I was in Delancre’s army, when I was brainwashed into serving him, I never had anything to regret. I never had anything to lose. It was easier then. Now? Now there are things I love, things I’m afraid for. If I think too much about how it could be when this is all over… Daye, that’s when I’m really scared. I can’t do what needs to be done if I let myself hope.”

“But you can’t lose hope,” Daye argued. “You have to have something worth living for to hold onto. Ryan, you can only succeed if you’re heading towards something. If you see Delancre’s defeat as the only goal I don’t want to think what might happen.”

“I don’t know,” Ryan looked at her. His eyes shone with a mixture of love and sadness. “I love Maia. I want a chance to be in her life, but maybe it’s too much. Maybe I don’t deserve that anymore. I’ve done things, horrible things, and I hurt you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Ryan reached out and gently stroked Daye’s face. “I love you. You’re still my Daye, the light in my darkness. Even after all this time, I love you as much as I did from the first. You showed me a world that was so different from the one I expected. You accepted me from the beginning. You never cared that I was different. You can’t know how much your love means to me, Daye. You can’t ever understand how hard it is now to just step back and let you have the life you’ve earned.”

“Ryan,” Daye’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t be who you need anymore. I’m sorry that Delancre has stolen our love from us. I’m sorry that you’ve so much pain inside.”

“Don’t be,” Ryan replied. “You’ve given me back myself. I’m grateful for that. And you’ve given me Maia as well. I never would have thought to know her. You didn’t hesitate to let me.”

“How could I?” Daye asked. “She’s your daughter.”

Maia glanced up at them, and stopped playing. She frowned pensively. “Don’ be sad, Mama,” she said, moving to cuddle close to Daye. She reached out her little hand and took Ryan’s larger one. “Don’ be sad, Ry’n.”

“No, love, not sad,” Ryan replied. He smiled down at her. “I’ll never be sad again.”

Maia sighed contentedly, drawing Ryan closer to her and Daye. He let himself be lead, for a moment settling there and letting it all play out in his mind, the fantasy of the way it should have been. *I will protect them,* Ryan thought fiercely. *I will.*

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Sun, 09/05/2004 - 15:25.

June 6th
7:32 pm
Poplar's training room

Kyle circled round his opponent, his fists raised in front of his face. Sweat glistened on his brow, dampening his hair, and clung to his bare upper torso. He turned aside and spat out a ball of phlegm onto the floor, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Right now there was nothing but him and his opponent. The world narrowed to the simple equation of life and death. Everything else was of no consequence, and fell away.

Kyle was focused, he was ready.

He opened his attack, unleashing a barrage of right-left punches, pummelling his opponent relentlessly. The Kaoshian ducked and turned to avoid return blows and came up on his left leg; the right smashing into his opponent’s side. The opponent wobbled, and nearly fell, but stubbornly remained standing. Kyle ducked again, and came up with a left-hook, then two back hands; hitting every part of his opponent’s body, leaving no part unharmed.

Jumping, Kyle leapt above a scything foot, landing rock-steady and delivering another series of punishing blows. By now his opponent’s face was a blooded mess; nose broken, teeth smashed, eyes puffing. There was no more defence it could put up, no way it could stand much longer, and Kyle’s assault picked up to unbearable intensity.

He threw a right-hook, knew this was the finishing blow, knew that he was victorious again, but only too late he caught his opponent’s manoeuvre, too late to defend himself, to do anything but watch as a mere second grew to eternity. Rooted to the spot he could only watch.

The punching-bag swung smack into Kyle’s face, knocking him off his feet and to the floor. “Shi-” he started before hitting the floor hard, and falling into a stream of curses as he rubbed his sore face and rose to his feet. Damnit, he was losing his edge…

Alessa couldn't help but laugh at the pearl of imprecations leaving the Kaoshian's mouth. She had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and was leaning against the threshold of Poplar's training room. After discussing it with Tash, they had decided that the best place to perform the Primal Ritual was the training room. But it needed to be readied for it; she needed an unthreatening space, so all the weapons had to be removed.

She had been surprised to see the Kaoshian there, though, and she had almost left the room, but something in the way the demon fought intrigued her so she had stayed. There was restlessness, a passion that reminded her of Chance…

"Have a care, Kyle. Or you'll make me blush," she said, when the demon turned angry eyes on her.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed when he saw Alessa. How long had she been here? Had she seen him fall? “The last time I had a care you attacked me.” He crossed the room, putting distance between her, and grabbed a bottle of water. After swigging at it, he turned back to her. “What do you want?”

"Nothing with you, believe me," she answered, stepping into the room and looking around. "And you can't blame me for attacking you; the last time I saw you, you were attacking my friends."

*Stop this,* she told herself, but every time she talked with Kyle it seemed that sparks flew. After all she'd talked about with Daye and Tash, she knew she couldn’t blame the demon for Pelor's death. And the kid did remind her of Chance. "However, I'm sorry. For attacking you, I mean."

“Hmm,” Kyle mumbled, his eyes darting away from her face. There was something about the intensity of Alessa’s gaze, or something else in it, that made him uncomfortable. Try as he might, he just couldn’t reason what it was. He was even more unsettled by the apology, and found himself unable to think of any sort of reply. “Uh, so what did you say you were doing?”

Alessa smiled, "I didn’t; but if you are interested I need to take all this stuff out of here." She gave the punching bag a shove and chuckled when it shoved back. "But it seems I'm out of shape." She studied Kyle, who was looking back with a puzzled expression in his eyes. "I haven’t trained in too long, and with the attack tomorrow… care to help me some?"

Kyle’s right eyebrow shot up. “Okay, wait- you want me to train with you?” Alessa nodded. “As in, fight with you. To help you?” She nodded again. “Well, that’s all well and good – but I’m still recovering from the last time I tried to help you.”

“I said I was sorry-” Alessa began before Kyle held up his hands to cut her off.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I got that.” He licked his lips in thought. “Well, I guess I could help. I mean, besides that weird shape-shifting shit you didn’t seem too formidable. And if it’ll help you in the fight tomorrow, against Delancre… Okay, I’ll help.”

Alessa rolled her eyes. "Oh, believe me, I could be formidable. I'm just a little rusty." She smiled again, remembering the discussions she had had with Chance about her out-of-shapeness. She shook her head to erase the memories, damn the kid. "And I guess you want to see Delancre down as much as I do."

“More than anything,” Kyle agreed through clenched teeth. Delancre. His blood boiled at the mere mention of his name. The bastard was going down, him and that Slayer lapdog of his. His fists tightened into balls, then the rage passed and he relaxed. He assumed a fighting stance once more. “Standing here talking about it isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

"Cierto," she agreed, and smiled a bloodthirsty smile. She was rusty, but she was sure she could make him eat his words. She wasn’t uneasy about using her shape-shifting shit now; she had Hyde to thank for that. She took a fighting stance. "Ok, Kyle, show me how it's done," she said, as she adjusted to her opponent, covering her human body with a thick layer of scales.

She knew she had surprised him with the swift change and she used it to her advantage, kicking him in the stomach. As he doubled over, she flipped him over her. He landed on his feet as she jumped to hers. They began to circle each other.

"Come on, surely you can do better than that," Kyle said as he prowled once more.

"Of course," she smiled. "I'm just making sure I haven’t lost it," she said, and spun around, landing a kick to his head.

Kyle ducked and started with his left. When she fell for it, he spun her around and slammed her face first into a wall, pinning her arms behind her back. "You are rusty," he said.

"And you are gloating," Alessa answered, and slammed her head backwards into his face, "way in advance." She spun around, braced herself against the wall and kicked him away.

Kyle hit the floor and rolled backwards, coming up on his feet a short distance away and catching his breath. This was good, and not something he’d done in a while. This was his best way of blowing off steam – against a living, breathing opponent, not a punch bag. Okay, so vampires weren’t living or breathing, but at least they were animate.

He studied Alessa’s position carefully. Yes, she had reduced the number of his angles of attack by placing her back against the wall, and kept herself safe from surprise, but it also cut her off from retreat. Kyle would punish her for that – and also teach her a lesson.

Taking a step forward, Kyle put all his weight on it so that it appeared he was going to kick with the other. Alessa went for the bait and began ducking, but too late she realised it was a mere feint, and Kyle only stepped forward rather than kicking, bringing with him a hard left hook that took Alessa in the jaw during her downwards movement. She slammed back up against the wall and now Kyle kicked; planting a side-kick in her gut. Gasping, Alessa managed to block his next two blows, even scoring a blow in his ribs, but Kyle ignored it and continued on attacking.

The Kaoshian demon was just about to land a blow to her throat when he stopped and took a step back. “You backed yourself into a corner, almost literally. You had no room to move or retreat, and I-”

“And you punished me for that,” Alessa finished, taking a few steps closer to him. “Yeah, I get it. Once I was in that position, I couldn’t do anything to get out of it.”

Kyle smiled. “I win.”

Alessa gave her own smile that put Kyle off guard, and then when the demon turned around wrapped her arms round his throat and kicked out his legs. They hit the ground amidst Kyle’s startled cry, and then Alessa was on top of him, the pressure on his throat increasing.

Just like Kyle had done, Alessa relented her attack and stood. “Here’s a lesson for you; don’t turn your back on an enemy.”

Kyle rolled over and glowered at her, clutching at his side where she had kicked him, and then where he had hit the floor. “I didn’t think you were an enemy. I keep forgetting that.”

Alessa laughed a little, then held out her hand to help him up. Kyle took it gratefully, then pulled with all his strength, sending her straight to the floor. He rolled on top of her, now wrapping his own hands around her neck. “Don’t be lured into a false sense of security.”

“Touche,” Alessa gasped, then managed to laugh a little again. “We could go on like this for a while.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, letting go and getting off her. “But I’m getting hungry.”

Alessa stood up and quickly changed back to her usual self. It seemed that the training session was over. She smiled at the demon, this time gratefully. "Thank you, Kyle. Maybe we could do this again some other time. It seems I have a lot to remember."

She looked around again, quickly assessing all that had to be done. "Go get some comida, I still have to take all this stuff out of here."

“Sure, maybe later. What are you doing, anyway?” Kyle asked as he grabbed his stuff from the corner of the room. “You never actually said.”

Alessa looked away from the dozens of weapons hanging from the wall to the demon. It was strange to be talking on such good terms with him; it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. "I'm getting cured of Hyde tonight in a special Verbati ceremony, but I need a quiet and unthreatening place." She smiled, "This place is quiet but hardly unthreatening, so Tash gave me permission to remove all the weapons, just for tonight."

She walked towards the door where she had left a couple of big cardboard crates to put all the stuff; she would need several trips to Tash's apartment before she was over.

Kyle frowned at Alessa’s words. “Hyde… Wait, for somebody infected you don’t seem so, y’know, evil. And how come you didn’t just get your, uhh, mana cleansed like everybody else?”

The demoness blushed slightly at his words. Well, among all her friends, Kyle would probably understand her need of revenge the better. "Because I was somewhat occupied at the time," she paused, "making Delancre fall for me." She stared at the demon right in the eye, "I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I was clean, you know?" Her mouth curved in a cruel smile. "And about my evilness - you just ask Delancre."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "If I come that close to Delancre, I won't be talking to him. I'll kill him." His chin raised and his tone of voice suggested that Kyle was stating a fact. A heavy silence loomed between the two demons, but it became apparent to both of them that they had reached some sort of agreement. It may only be a mutual understanding on a small level, but it was enough to replace a large part of the aggression between them.

Alessa turned back to what she was doing, and Kyle continued to watch her for a few moments longer, lost in his own thoughts. After a while, he seemed to reach a decision and stirred.

"Here, let me give you a hand."

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by James_Connor on Mon, 09/06/2004 - 13:55.

June 4th
11:12 pm

James sat silently in the dark warehouse listening to the banging of the rain on the metallic roof. He scanned the dark room with a purpose and that purpose was Raúl Montero.

He had contacted several underworld connections to get this meeting with the elusive hit-man and tonight was the first meeting. James was nervous with anticipation and desperately trying to get his mind off the subject. Just as he was about to get up from his chair and head to a pay phone, he heard a noise at the back of the warehouse. The unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Raúl Montero heard his footstep's echoes bounce of the walls of the large warehouse. The Verbati wouldn't normally take a job from a new client such as this vampire, but the word was that he was willing to pay big money to get the job done. Raúl scanned the area, but still couldn't see where his new employer was. "Late fucking vampires."

Just as the words left his mouth he saw a tall figure appear from the darkness, dressed in an expensive tailor-made suit and shirt.

"You James, el vampiro?"spoke Raúl.

James nodded with an evil-looking grin across his face. "Let's go to work."

Raúl moved closer to the vampire to get a better look at his features, but before he could get any nearer the vampire flipped a light switch. The entire room lit up and he could see James ever so clearly.

Raúl was not easily intimated, but something about the way this vampire smiled unnerved him. "My fee is 30 G’s. Half now and half on completion."

James nodded again, looking into the assassin's eerily familiar dark eyes. He studied the demon's features where the family resemblance was clear and his resolve hardened. He hoisted his suitcase up and pulled out a brown manila folder. He handed it to the assassin. "The target's picture's in here."

Raúl opened the folder and looked at the picture, a picture of his sister. The demon looked up sharply but was met with the vampire's forehead slamming hard into the bridge of his nose and sending him sprawling back to the floor.

Before Raúl could make a move, James converged onto him and placed a boot in his balls causing Raúl to scream out in pain and clutch his wounded genitalia. James backed off, letting Raúl get some space and allowing him to get to his feet and assume his true form.

James' grin was as wide as the Chelsea cat's at this point; he was going to enjoy every second of this. "Well, come on Chewbacca. Let's fucking have it, you goofy bastard." James' features warped to allow the demon side of him out. His forehead became bumpy with small spikes protruding from his eyebrows and the tone of his skin turning a shade greener.

Raúl ran at James, swiping his claws at the vampire's head, but was diverted by the vampire's own talons swiping at his eyes.

Raúl and James traded blows for several minutes, leaving none of them any the better. James' suit was badly stained in blood and cut up while Raúl's fur was matted with his own blood. Raúl rushed at James and swiped for his head but the vampire effortlessly grabbed Raúl's arm and swung him up over his own head, landing face first into pile of scaffolding.

As he hit the ground, Raúl grabbed onto James' arm and, using his demonic strength, he threw James over his head and smack into a wall. "I thought you said we were going to have it? You’re going to have to do a lot better, vampiro.”

James lunched into a flurry of punches, sending Raúl a few feet back. The vampire swung his head forward as if to headbutt, but Raúl flinched and half moved to the side causing James to miss. He then swung his foot hard and kicked Raúl in the knee, knocking him the ground. James moved close up to the demon and stomped on his face with both feet .

Batting the foot to one side with a powerful swipe, Raúl pushed himself to his feet with one hand and dived at James, knocking him to the ground with him astride. The demon thumped and beat upon the vampire, ripping open his skin with his great claws.

James spat in the demon's face and as he went to wipe the spit from his face, James grabbed the back of Raúl's face and bit hard into his snout and ripped a massive chunk off with his powerful jaws.

Raúl yelped in pain and tossed James sliding across the warehouse floor. He was too busy pawing his ruined snout and moaning to see James grab a large metal pole. When the demon noticed it swinging towards his face, it was too late. Then there was no pain, only darkness.

Raúl slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was human again. He didn’t remember morphing back. He frowned. His head ached from the dull glow of the candle light, and his eyes adjusted to make out a figure a few metres away at a gas cooker boiling something that smelled like a mix of fat and seafood.

Raúl quickly realized that he was not tied down or tied up; his arms were not bound or clothed but something he couldn't see was holding him up in the air. The demon slowly turned his head to see that his skin was being held by several small steel hooks attacked to chains. Now Raúl had tortured lots of people in his time and this was a new one to him.

Raul tried to change his form back but was met with a powerful shock coursing through his body. He looked up to see James moving slowly forward waving a control pad.

"I wouldn’t try to do that again mate, a few more shocks and it will knock you out again and I want you to be fully awake when I start on you."

Raúl spat at James. "You bastardo hijo de puta, I'm going to fucking rip you apart."

The vampire gave a wide grin. "Bla, bla, bla… shut up, you fucking piece of scum." James flung a punch that connected with Raúl's face, causing him to swing in his bonds.

James walked over to the wall and flicked a switch on the wall. The room illuminated to reveal that the entire place was covered in plastic wrapping from the floor tiles to the roof. Raúl could feel the fear building inside him and he knew this was going to get messy.

James made his way over to the stove whereupon he picked up a pair of chopsticks that were lying on the counter. He dipped them into a pot on the stove and plucked out what seemed to be a fried prawn. James walked over to Raúl and offered him the food on the end of the chopsticks. Raúl pulled his face away.

"Ow, come on! It isn't poisoned, I wouldn’t kill you that way. That’s too easy." James ate the prawn on the end of the sticks and smirked. "Well, it's time to get the torture started."

James made his way back over to the stove and picked up the boiling pot. He walked over beside Raúl and poured the contents down his bare back and head.

Raúl screamed in pain and tried to shift but was met with another jolt of electricity. His body twisted with the energy going through it. The Verbati looked at his skin still giving off steam and looked back at James who stood over him with a maniac grin on his face.

James pulled a long thin needle from his pocked and grabbed Raúl's jaw and stabbed the needle into his cheek. Raúl squirmed with pain but said nothing. James pulled the needle out and walked over behind Raúl and stabbed the needle into his spine. The demon squirmed and twitched for a second and then stopped.

The vampire walked round to the front of Raúl and spoke. "I just severed your spinal cord, my friend. Just be happy that you aren't feeling any pain down there anymore because…" James pulled out a pair of scissors and made a snipping motion. "This is just gonna be more for psychological effect mate, but on the plus side you get to be cut down."

James put his hand on Raúl's back and pushed with all his strength and watched as his skin ripped off the hooks and his broken body fell limply to the floor.

"This is where it realty starts to get fun."

Three hours later James dropped the broken body of Raúl off in front the E.R. of Los Angeles County Hospital.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Mon, 09/06/2004 - 15:02.

June 5th
11:27 pm

Inés opened the elevator's door tiredly; she was coming to her hotel room after a too-long day. She had just learnt about Daye's ordeal at Delancre's hands and that the White Hats needed to get in touch with Alessa ASAP; her mind was spinning about a way to let her know about it. She had not known anything about her cousin in more than a week and she was worried, although she knew she'd know if anything serious had happened to her.

She massaged the bridge of her nose as she unlocked the key and entered her room. She would think about it later; at the moment all she wanted was a good hot bath. She was too tired to try to sort out life.

"Hello, gorgeous." The sound of James' voice startled her as she closed the door softly behind her. She pierced the darkness with her demon sight to see his dark outline against the balcony, and her face creased in a big smile. She had missed him; more so now that his friend's ailment kept him away for so long.

James sat slouched down in the chair sipping what looked to be a bottle of beer. "How's it going, kiddo? Not seen you in a while."

"Oh, James! I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed and ran to him, settling herself in his lap and hugging him close. Suddenly the events of the last couple of weeks fell onto her like a rock. She had needed him so much that it ached, but she didn’t feel right about asking him to come back, with his problems with Vincent and Darlome's healing. She felt hot tears come to her eyes and she blinked angrily, trying not to let him notice.

James felt a tear drop to his cold fresh and he pulled back to look at Inés. "I wanted to talk to you about Raúl and other things." James took another sip of his beer and turned his attention to her. "So I heard there is some bad shit going down; want to tell me about it, sweetie?"

Inés wiped her face and smiled apologetically; she didn’t want to give him more reasons to worry about. "I'm sorry, it's just that I really missed you, amor." Then his words finally dawned on her. "Raúl? What…? Who told you about Raúl?" Then she chuckled, "Of course, Alessa did; who else?"

She looked at him again, suppressing the shivers that the mention of her brother always brought. "What is it with Raúl, James? What has the bastard done this time?"

James gave a half grin. “It's not what h'es done, it's what I've done… he's not going to hurt anyone any more, sweetie."

Inés straightened and tensed, watching the hard edge in her lover's face. James calmly returned her stare and she gulped. "What do you mean?" she asked.

James sensed the change in Inés; he sat up straight and took her hands. "Well, I beat him to within an inch of his life and he is currently on life support in the hospital."

Inés disentangled her hands from his and stood up from his lap, taking a couple of steps back. She couldn’t speak as she moved unsteadily to the little fridge from where took a little bottle of vodka. She didn’t bother to pour it into a glass but drank a long sip directly from the tip. The fiery liquid left a burning trail down her throat but she welcomed it. When she turned around to face James again she could feel the shaking in her hands receding.

The vampire had stood up too, and was looking at her with concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry, James, it's just that… I- you… you surprised me, I didn’t expect this," she stammered, fighting to control herself.

James bowed his head to avoid Inés' eyes. " I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing, but I wanted to hurt him. I couldn't stand thinking that he was still out there affecting you, not being able to open up to me. I'm sorry."

Inés' head snapped up and she frowned. "Oh, no. No." She walked quickly towards him and placed her hands on his chest, searching his eyes.

"Don’t misunderstand me. I… I don’t blame you, he deserved whatever you could have done and more," she said. She didn’t want to even imagine what could have transpired between the vampire and Raúl, and she shivered again.

She had severed herself from her brother years ago; she had spent decades trying to overcome what Raúl had done to her only to find him again in LA last year and then all had seemed to start again. And then she had met James.

She looked into the vampire's eyes and smiled weakly at him. "You just surprised me," she repeated softly and leaned on him, wrapping her arms around his strong frame.

James held Inés close to him. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "I love you so much."

"Please, just hug me," she asked, feeling tears come to her eyes at the sound of his words. It was the first time he had openly admitted his feelings for her and she felt somewhat lacking in not answering in same. Would it be so difficult? To say the words? She had already opened to him as she had never done to any other male before; even if he found that insufficient and went to avenge her on her brother because of it.

"I love you too, James." The words spurted out of her mouth without her volition, and she hid her face into his chest to avoid trembling, just enjoying the feeling of James' hand caressing her hair.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Fri, 09/10/2004 - 17:53.

June 6th
8:00 pm
1318 Poplar Ave.

Ellis walked up the steps to Natasha Brookes' apartment quickly. From the moment he had heard of Alessa's return in the planning meeting with the White Hats he had been counting the minutes to see her again. He stood for a few minutes in front of the huntress' door before raising his hand to knock. He wasn’t sure why he had come. Alessa had been out of the mansion for a whole day and she hadn't searched for him - maybe she didn’t want to see him. He shook his head. He wanted to know that she was ok; it wasn’t enough for her friends to say so. He needed to see her.

He was about to knock when the door opened and a girl with a big box in her hands came out of the apartment, bumping into him. He heard the sound of the things hitting the floor and Ellis instantly bent to help her gather the contents of the box.

"I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was going," she apologized, too busy retrieving her things to look at him, and Ellis' head snapped up at the sound of her voice.

"No… It was partly my fault too," he answered, trying to peer into her lowered face.

As he spoke she raised her head in surprise and their eyes met. Ellis felt as though he was falling. Below the crop of bleached hair was a familiar set of eyes so green that they hypnotized him.

"Alessa?" he breathed, the sense of her finally hitting him. He couldn’t fathom her feelings, but her expression of surprise and something else he couldn’t read was telling enough. His resolve faltered; she wasn’t happy to see him.

"Ellis! What are you doing here?" she asked, rushing to stand up, the box against her chest like some kind of armour. "How did you know I was here?"

Ellis took a step back, and his eyes hardened. It was obvious that she didn’t want him there. "I'm sorry," he answered stiffly, "I didn’t want to bother you. I just learnt about your escape and wanted to check on you."

He gave her the candle he was holding and bowed her head slightly. "I see that you are all right. I'll leave now," he added and he turned to leave, before she could see the hurt in his eyes.

"No, no. Don’t go," Alessa hurried to say. "I'm sorry, Ellis. I didn’t want to be rude." She turned to close the door and smiled at him, albeit shakily. "You can help me with this," she said, and gave him the box she was holding. "Come with me, we can talk in the training room."

"All right," he answered, putting the box under his arm and starting to follow her. He looked at the way she moved in front of him and he felt the urge to just get her and hold her tightly. "Where are we going?" he asked and averted his eyes from the lovely sight of her bottom as she walked before him.

"Tash's training room. We'll be alone there, so we can talk." She got to a door and opened it, motioning him to enter the room. Ellis stepped inside and looked around; the place didn’t look much like a huntress' training room. There were no weapons, or punch bags or anything remotely related to exercise. Just several mats on the floor, some of them rolled to uncover the wooden floor beneath.

"This doesn’t look like a training room," he voiced, settling the box next to another one in the centre of the room.

"Yeah. Well, it did a couple of hours ago," Alessa answered, taking a look around herself. She and Kyle had done a good job and the room was clear of any 'threatening' elements. "I just had to clear it up, for-" she stopped talking and brushed her hair off her face in a gesture so endearing that Ellis wanted to cry aloud his frustration.

"Never mind," she added, and smiled at him again, this time with more surety. "So, how did you learn of my being here again?"

"Kate told me," he answered, and walked toward the wall, leaning against it. "I just came from a meeting with the White Hats at her place. To settle the last arrangements for tomorrow's attack."

"A meeting? With the White Hats? I didn’t know of any meeting," Alessa said softly, feeling suddenly betrayed. She had spent the whole day at the building and nobody had bothered to tell her. "And you are fighting too? Nobody told me that either."

"I am, me and the DP. Delancre has to be stopped." Ellis sensed her frustration and he hurried go on. "And the meeting... Well, it was arranged days ago, they probably just forgot to tell you."

"Or they don’t trust me," she said, her voice sounding harsh and reminding him of the last time they had seen each other.

"You are still infected, aren’t you?" he asked, but he didn’t need her answer. The hardness in her tone and eyes was telling enough. "I'm sorry, Alessa. But that may have been the reason, yes."

He studied her while she fought to control her anger, her expressive face unable to hide her feelings. "When are you doing it, by the way? Your Previous Ritual, I mean."

"Primal Ritual," she corrected him, smiling in spite of her anger. "You are pretty aware of things, aren’t you?" she asked, assessing him with her eyes for the first time. He looked much more healthy than the last time she had seen him, and as handsome as ever. His piercing blue eyes shone with amusement and… love? She drew in her breath and lowered her eyelids.

"Well, I have to, if I'm to stand to my promise." At her raised eyebrow he hurried to explain, trying not to pay attention to her fluttering eyelashes. She was still infected and he wasn’t to take advantage of it. "I promised to stand by you when you got cured."

"I remember," she answered, even more puzzled by his lack of reaction at her charms. Maybe now that he himself was cured, he didn’t find her attractive anymore. She must have read his expression wrongly. She sighed, "Well, don’t worry, I won't hold you to your promise."

"Don’t be silly. It's not an obligation," he reprimanded, a little too harshly. "When will you do it?"

"Tonight," she answered, trying not to sound shaky. "That's why this place is so empty. We'll do it here."

Ellis wasn’t fooled, though. He knew her well. "What is it?" he asked, and stepped further to where she stood in the middle of the room. "Why are you afraid?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that this ritual… well, it's not easy." She smiled, trying to sound surer than she felt. "But Inés will be here to help me. I'm just being silly."

She felt the warmth of his intent eyes on her and she smiled apologetically. "I didn’t want to see you before the ritual, Ellis. That's why I didn’t call you. I wanted to see you Hyde-free, as myself."

Ellis looked into her eyes for a few seconds, searching for the truth in their green depths and he finally nodded, satisfied. He felt as if a stone had been raised from his chest. "I understand," he said, softly, and he couldn’t resist raising a hand to her face. She pressed her cheek to his palm, and he quickly moved his hand away.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he said, moving away again. "This ritual, what does it imply?"

She was too frustrated from his attitude to hold her tongue. "Primal form is the way Verbatis have of fighting illnesses or environmental threats. Basically I'll get to kick Hyde's ass out of me by changing too fast for it to follow me."

Ellis frowned. He knew her abilities had improved, but that didn’t sound good to his ears. "Isn't that dangerous?" he asked, worried.

"In a way…" she answered, and shrugged. She had said too much, she didn’t like the sound of his voice. "But there isn’t any other choice, I don’t have time for the mana draining ritual, anyway."

"You could wait till after the attack," he offered, angry at her taking risks. If he was reading her right, this ritual was far more dangerous than what she wanted to admit. "Kate could perform the ritual again then."

"If she survives," Alessa sneered callously, and she instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry, but you see? There's no other way. I just have to do this."

Ellis nodded, he could understand her. "Just tell me what I can do to help," he offered.

She walked to him then and hugged him, resting her head on his chest. He hesitated for a second and then wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame.

"Just be there for me when it's done. I'll need a friend then."

All her worries about the time she finally got rid of Hyde came to her then, and she blushed. She didn’t want to think how she would feel about Ellis when all was finished, but she needed him now. Ellis had never betrayed her, he had been there for her and she had spurned him, and yet he was still around. She didn’t deserve him.

"I already told you I would," he answered, and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Fri, 09/10/2004 - 18:29.

June 6th
8:10 pm
Poplar's training room

Alessa stood in the threshold to the training room and surveyed Inés' movements. The weapons and furniture had been already removed and the mats rolled up to reveal the polished wooden floor, and now Inés was finishing the last preparations for the ritual. In the centre of the room she had drawn three large concentric rings with white chalk. Three smaller circles had been drawn to one side. Candles stood everywhere, and their sweet scent filled the room.

Alessa looked apprehensively at Inés as the time for the ritual became close. She’d explained the entire process to her, but she still was afraid. Taking Primal form implied a level of connection with her demon side that she had never achieved before, so she had never been introduced to its mysteries. She bit her lip and shifted on her feet as she watched Inés finish lighting the last candles. She could see that her cousin was nervous too, but determined. She knew the dangers of the ritual.

“Do you understand, then?” Inés asked for the fifth time, startling her.

“Sí, Inés,” Alessa answered, frustrated, but quickly controlled herself. Inés had been a fundamental part of her survival these last few weeks and she didn’t deserve her frustration. ‘If you can't beat her, join her,’ had been Inés' motto, and then she had embarked on helping her body and soul. The same determination she showed now, helping her through this difficult ritual.

“Bien. Bien.” The demoness sounded distracted. She brushed her hair back from her face and tied it with an elastic band, before breathing in and smiling at her. "Is Ellis still outside?" she asked.

"Sí," Alessa confirmed. The man had volunteered to make guard outside the room, so nobody would interrupt the ritual, and he would be close for when the ritual ended. She felt reassured from his being there too.

Inés nodded. “Step inside the big circles, then,” she added, walking to occupy the smaller ones. “Careful not to disturb the markings. No clothes,” she added.

Biting her lower lip, Alessa took off Tash's oversized robe and, stark naked, she stepped over the white lines and settled in a lotus position in the middle of the circles. She took a deep breath and flexed her hands to relieve part of the tension. She moved her head in circles and exhaled. Then she looked at her cousin and nodded. She was ready.

"Bueno, prima, this is it," Inés said, rotating her own head and smiling shakily. "Change into your demon form, please," she added, changing as well and Alessa watched with interest how her cousin closed her eyes and gradually submerged into a deep trance.

A shimmering in the air surrounding the darker form of her cousin startled Alessa. She squinted slightly, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the flickering around Inés grew more distinct. It was like the waves one saw over the pavement on the hottest days.

Alessa reached out her hand, but she couldn't feel any heat. Slowly the shimmering around Inés grew to fill a larger space, and another form superposed her cousin's. Inés' brown fur darkened into her grandfather's black but greying one and her size grew. She could still see Inés though. It was like magic, she thought, amazed. But yet, she knew it wasn’t. Her grandfather had come to help her.

She hadn't seen him for more than twenty years, since he had decided to let her believe him dead. She knew she should be angry at him for such deceit, but at the moment all she could feel was the warmth of her love for him tingling through her limbs.

"Hola abuelo," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. The huge darkness over Inés nodded its head and she could fathom a smile on its demonic mouth, but it was enough. Alessa knew that Shongu shared her feelings.

Then the dark flickering reduced its size and settled into Inés' form again, and her cousin opened her eyes and it was as if Shongu had never been there. Yet Alessa knew he was inside the demoness now, seeing through her eyes and talking through her mouth.

Her cousin/grandfather spoke then, the voice sounding like Inés' but the words bearing the solemnity of Shongu's.

"The Verbatis defend themselves in a way unlike any other. By reaching our Primal forms, we either fight outside or inside threats. That's how we heal and defend ourselves under extreme circumstances.

"Every Verbati is part of a great pattern, and any pattern can be attained by shifting. We heal by becoming one with the injured pattern, and then shapeshifting to transform the pattern so that the injury is made whole.

"We became the singer and the song, the dancer and the music. Matter and energy.

"There's a foreign entity inside of you now. I can feel it, its blackness… it's tainting you, clouding your judgement and feelings; your music. It's feeding off you."

There was a small pause and he/she went on. "But in merging with you, it has doomed itself. It has become a part of you; it became you and thus, prone to be affected by you as well.

"This entity has disrupted your demon's innate tendency for pattern stability. This trait is the underlying source of both our strength and fragility. We shapeshift to attain stability. Our body has an inbuilt sense of self preservation, and will start making changes to itself whenever it senses an incompatibility with its inside or its environment. That is our Primal form, that changing.

"Taking your Primal form will get you to attain your stability again. But it has risks. It requires a certain preparation and linking with your inner self that may not be achieved. To perform the Primal ritual for the first time another Verbati should be granted sufficient access to your mind, to guide you through. This is the only way a Verbati can do the ritual.

"I ask you now; do you grant us permission to join you?"

"I do," Alessa answered, almost choking in the words. She had known all her grandfather said, but she also knew what he hadn't said. Healing in this way could be fatal if the demon was suffering instability, as the base pattern could shift in unpredictable ways and cause even greater problems. She knew the risks, but there was no other way. She couldn’t lose her mana so close to the final battle or she wouldn’t be of any use to her friends.

Inés/Shongu nodded and started to chant softly. The words sounded rough and harsh, but they had a certain rhythm that made Alessa's blood pump in tune with them. The cadence of the chanting grew in intensity and the demoness felt as if every hair on her body stood erect, and tingled with the added inner energy; then suddenly Alessa felt the distinct presence of other being/beings inside of her.

She opened her eyes and stretched her arms; they felt heavier and larger. Her cinnamon fur darkening as earlier, when Shongu had come to occupy Inés' body.

*It's all right, you are not alone.* Inés/Shongu's voice startled her as it came from inside her mind. *Close your eyes and just feel it. The music.*

*The music?* Alessa frowned, and instantly felt her frown disappear; she was not alone.

*Yes, the music. Feel it. Every being has a tune of its own, and their tunes overlay in a universal cadence. Every individual pattern is a series of notes in the great symphony.*

Alessa stilled, and she forced herself to hear, but it was impossible. She couldn’t work out the music. She started to shake her head, when the slightly annoyed inner voice added, *Not with your ears, Alessa! Listen with your soul! You are part of the music, listen to your heart.*

As she focused she could hear the rhythmical thumping of her own heart, *tum, tum, tum,* and it became louder and louder, setting the base to her own rhythm. Alessa smiled in triumph and she could sense the approving nod from Inés/Shongu. *Your blood,* came the command and Alessa started listening the riotous sound of her blood running through her veins. It was exhilarating, the sprinting sound. *Your breathing.* Alessa strived to integrate the sounds of her breathing to the organizing sounds of her own pattern. Soon the pulse of energy coursing her was simplified and enhanced in the form of music, affecting her mind and body at many levels.

The sound of a voice chanting reached her ears and she took a few seconds to realize that it was she who was singing and she faltered. *Don’t stop!* came the reprisal, *You are toning, this is good.* Alessa knew what that was, toning was the conscious elongation of a sound using your voice. She was singing her music!

*Now listen to us,* Inés/Shongu said, and Alessa started listening to their toning. There were subtle differences; she had her own rhythm but Inés' music attuned to hers and they sang in a chorus now. Alessa felt more complete; she allowed the tones to emerge without trying to control them and she experienced a cleansing feeling, of body and soul. She wanted to laugh from the exhilaration of it.

Suddenly it was there, the discordant tone, the mismatched pace. Alessa frowned, and she opened her eyes. *Don’t stop!* Inés/Shongu commanded, *That's Hyde's singing. You have to overcome it, make the music whole again.*

*But, how?* Alessa asked, suddenly terrified. She could feel the darkness in the virus' music, the evilness. It corrupted hers, it ruined it, made it soiled and inharmonious. *You have to vibrate to your own rhythm, make your body dance,* came the cryptic response. *Shift!*

And she responded with an ease that surprised her. She shifted, she followed her music and shifted in accordance, trying to outmatch the discordant tones of the virus. She let herself get lost in the music and she felt overjoyed in the power of her kind. But to an outside observer the sight would have been terrifying as she morphed, shifted into anything and everything she'd ever been; slowly at first and then so rapidly that one form couldn’t be discerned from the other.

Alessa could feel the virus resisting, singing its own darker music and trying to overcome hers, but her resolve strengthened and her shifting reinforced to win over the entity. As her DNA codes changed ever so swiftly, the virus found itself losing foot and gradually dying. She elated when she felt her melody slowly overcome the dissonant tones of Hyde; and she reinforced her toning and morphing, following the downing cadences of the virus without mercy. She gave herself free rein to pursue and destroy the final remnants of the darker entity.

As she became unstable, losing her pattern; Inés/Shongu's toning grew in volume, and their presence in Alessa's mind strengthened their grip on her conscience, slowly braking her shifting. The demoness fought to be free again; she wanted nothing but the elation of pure shifting, but Inés/Shongu's hold on her was too strong and they gradually stopped her.

However, Alessa's music gradually lowered too, as she sank into herself, exhausted after her spurt of energy. Her music became lethargic, downed, asleep. She receded into herself, blocking out outside influences. Her form stopped changing, slowly losing its boundaries and subsiding into an amoeba-like blob in the middle of the circles, only the white chalk lines preventing her from spreading on the floor like a pool of water.

Inés/Shongu's music changed again; it became seducing, cajoling, bullying. It sank into Alessa's pattern, searching for that spark of conscience that would make her come back. Appealing to her sense of self preservation, Inés/Shongu demanded and pleaded, commanded and coaxed, trying to get a response from the demoness.

But Alessa didn’t want to respond. What little conscience still was, it felt safe, protected and at peace. She had never felt so at peace before, she didn’t want to come back. So she just let Inés/Shongu's toning wash through her, let their music get through and lose itself. She didn’t want to hear, but that bothersome tune kept following her, its tones getting harder and more imposing by the minute. Then she started to see as well, flashes of her life came through the fog that enveloped her awareness: her father, her family, Morris; Chance, Cole, her friends, Ellis…

Alessa's blob started to twitch, rippling like a pond hit by stones, and her mind started to respond too. She moaned, pleaded and begged to be left alone, to just enjoy her peace. But the images were unrelenting, showing her joys and sorrows, her life; and the music was merciless, pounding into her, making her own rhythm accelerate to match it. Slowly, as her music sped up, she started to regain her form too, losing her amorphousness and becoming definite again.

Some time later, a very exhausted Inés stood up and staggered to where her cousin lay in a foetal position in the middle of the white circles. She covered Alessa with a blanket and walked to the door.

"You can come in now," she told Ellis.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Sat, 09/11/2004 - 10:57.

June 7th
4:45 am

Ellis opened his eyes. He'd fallen asleep sitting against the wall. For a moment he couldn't remember why he was sitting in a pile of mats in this strange room instead of his bed, but a slight movement from another pile of mats at his side brought the night's events crashing down around him.

Alessa stirred, pushing at the blanket and muttering incoherently. Ellis approached her and touched her forehead. He was relieved that she was cool enough; heat had radiated from her skin when they had first settled her in the makeshift bed. Inés had said that it was normal, her body fighting the rests of the virus in the human way, and then she had left to her well earned rest.

Ellis' touch seemed to ease her restlessness now. He smoothed the damp hair back from her face and Alessa muttered again, distress in her tone and expression. She was having a nightmare, and he debated whether to wake her up.

"Por favor, por favor, no! No me toques, monstruo. Me das asco!" Her voice startled him, and he watched as her head turned back and forth on the pillow and tears slipped from her closed eyes to slide down the sides of her face. He couldn’t understand the words, but he could read their tone easily enough.

He reached out to brush her face with his hand. The frantic movements of her head eased and she stopped talking. Ellis gently traced her cheek with his thumb and she turned her head into his caress with a sigh. He watched in fascination as she relaxed into a more normal sleep. He waited for a few moments and then cautiously he retreated to his spot near the wall.

Resting his head against the wall, he thought about tomorrow night. Most of his Demon Police had already arrived to the city, and Mike would make sure everything would be ready for the attack. The response he had got from his people still surprised him, but the First Elder had indeed made a lot of enemies with his actions of late. He tried to think about the battle strategies he had discussed yesterday with the White Hats and the renegade Watchers; but his gaze and his thoughts wandered back to Alessa no matter how sternly he pulled them back. It would be dawn soon, he thought pensively as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes for just a moment, but ended up falling asleep and dreaming about Alessa.

"Ellis?" her voice woke him up and he straightened, blinking sleep away. He checked on Alessa and was relieved to see she was awake and watching him with well-aware eyes. He smiled and moved towards her. He felt stiff and sore from sitting up all night watching her; or sleeping. He frowned, ashamed of having fallen asleep again. It was he who was doing the guarding, not her.

"Hey, how are you?" he said, settling next to her. She was getting into a sitting position and the blanket slid all the way to her thighs. Ellis averted his eyes and motioned to the robe that pooled near her. He waited while she hurriedly put it on before he turned to look at her again, smiling. "How are you feeling? Did you get any rest at all?"

Alessa looked around, clutching the robe tightly against her and then relaxed her grip. This man had seen her in much less, more times that she wanted to think about.

"I'm all right," she answered, not quite sincerely. The events of the past months were whirling in her mind, and she was starting to feel their oppression on her chest like a stab of stone.

"It will become easier," Ellis said softly, watching the mixed emotions playing on her expressive face. "The guilt," he explained, at her quizzical glare. "It'll become easier to carry it, with time."

She stared at him for a few moments; of course he had passed through this himself. He had had Hyde and been cured too. It was good to have him understand her. "I'm sorry, Ellis. For everything that's happened."

"It's all right; you don’t have to apologize for anything. I wasn’t the best of men lately either." He approached her when he noticed her shivering in her flimsy robe and pulled the blanket around her shoulders.

"But what I did... I betrayed you," she wanted him to chastise her for her treachery; she didn’t deserve his reasonable tone and his understanding. Her eyes pleaded for some kind of reprimand, she just needed it. "With Delancre…" she couldn’t believe her actions, how could she have acted that way, enjoy his touch - how she had betrayed him as well. She moaned and hid her face in her hands.

Ellis turned at the mention of the First Elder; he didn’t want to think of Alessa in that man's arms, and he banished that thought from his mind. There would be time to talk about Delancre. He parted her hands from her face so she would look at him again.

"Ours wasn’t a normal relationship, Alessa. Hyde joined us," he gulped when the lie came out of his mouth, he didn’t want her to feel any obligations towards him. He wouldn’t win her that way. "It was only fair that Hyde pulled us apart."

"No, no," Alessa shook her head, she couldn’t believe his words, "There was something more. I know there was. Hyde may have pulled us apart, but it wasn’t there at the beginning. I'm sure it wasn’t."

Ellis eyes softened, and he pulled the blanked around her again. "No it wasn’t. But let's not talk about that now. You need to rest, regain strength for tonight."

"Pero…" she opened her mouth to speak but he placed his finger on it, silencing her.

"No buts." His finger started to trace the form of her mouth and he quickly pulled it away. "This is not the moment. You'll need time to sort it all out. And you need rest now, we'll talk about this later. I promise you."

He stood up and stretched a hand towards her. "Come on, I'll take you to Tash's now, you should get your rest in a softer bed for what little remains of the night."

In her bed, Tash heard the quiet sounds of movement in the apartment, her hunter's instincts snapping her to wakefulness. Despite her offers of help, Alessa had insisted she needed to perform her ritual with only Inés - but that didn't stop Tash from worrying about her friend.

Rising from her bed she quickly found a long t-shirt and pulled it over her naked body before padding down the hallway to where Alessa's bedroom door stood ajar. She made out both Alessa's and Ellis' low voices from within and leaned against the doorframe, pushing the door slightly more open.

"Everything go okay?" she asked softly, her eyes searching Alessa for signs of anything out of the ordinary.

Alessa looked guiltily at her friend on the threshold. She had denied Tash's help once and again, and yet she was there with Ellis. But the woman's eyes held nothing but warm concern and she smiled.

"Everything is fine, Tash, thank you. I'm sorry to have woken you." She smiled more broadly and sat on the bed. "The ritual was successful. I'm clean now."

Tash's concern faded, and she sighed in relief as she nodded. "Well then, I'll let you get your rest. I'm sure you need it. We have a big day tomorrow- hmm, today now," she amended, noting the lightening sky through the window.

She turned her gaze to Ellis. "Take care of her. I'll see you both later."

Returning to her own room, Tash lay back down on her bed. But sleep eluded her, as the day grew steadily brighter and she found herself staring at the ceiling running through myriad possible battle scenarios. Whatever the outcome today, she was sure of one thing - they would all do their utmost to see Delancre fall. They owed themselves that much.

Ellis heard the huntress close her bedroom door softly behind her and he turned to Alessa who was already tucked into the bed. "You heard her, missy," he said in a merry tone as he arranged the covers around Alessa's form. "You need your sleep. We'll talk tomorrow. You'll be fighting with the Demon Police, right?"

Alessa hadn't given much thought to it, but she nodded. It was a place as good as any other, and she wanted to be close to Ellis in any case. He may be skilled, but he was only human.

"Good, I'm leaving then." He stretched stiffly and rolled his head. "I need to rest as well." He leant to plant a kiss on her cheek and he was surprised when her hand grabbed his wrist strongly.

"Could you stay?" she asked, and blushed at his intent gaze. "And just hold me? I'm afraid to be alone tonight."

Ellis nodded, and his gaze washed warmth all over her. "Of course," he said, as he took off his shoes and settled on the bed near her. Alessa quickly burrowed into his embrace and in a few moments she was asleep. Ellis' sleep took a while longer to come.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Logan on Sat, 09/11/2004 - 18:34.

June 7th
1:07 pm
1318 Poplar Ave.

“What do you mean I’m not going!?” Cole snapped, his eyes narrowing as he flashed a defiant gaze towards Darian.

Already set in his decision, the fae did not so much as flinch; Cole wouldn’t be going to the attack on the mansion, and that would be final.

“I mean exactly what I said: you’re staying here.” The air of finality in his voice was painfully obvious, but still the teen was not ready to give up the fight yet.

“I may not be as strong as Kate, or all those Sindell witches, but I sure as hell can be some help out there! Jesus Christ, Darian, this fight is important, and the good guys need all the back up they can get!”

“Yeah, this fight is important, and not to mention extremely dangerous,” the man retorted, his voice beginning to rise to match the teen’s growing anger. “The Watchers practically have an army of demons, not to mention a Slayer at their disposal. Even with your magic, there is no way you’re going to get mixed up with that!”

“This is BULLSHIT!” Cole spat as he walked over to the front door of the apartment, before spinning back furiously. “What about last October!? I went with everyone to the Brotherhood’s stronghold!”

“And if had been up to me,” Darian responded, icily, “You wouldn’t have gone to that either! You’re only seventeen years old Cole, do you have a fucking death wish?!”

Cole’s body began to shake with rage. After everything he had been through, he sure as hell had proved himself worthy of helping out, especially at such a critical time. “And what about you huh!? You say it’s so dangerous, well what happens if YOU die?!”

Darian opened his mouth, but paused before anything came out. The thought had crossed his mind, but never from the angle Cole obviously saw it from. Chance was gon, and now, with the big fight coming up, there were chances he and Alessa could very well not come back from it.

Dropping his voice down to a calmer level, Darian looked his friend in the eyes. “I can't spend my time at the battle watching over you, Cole.”

“Does it look like I need a babysitter!” the teen hissed back.

“No Cole, you don’t. I know even at seventeen you’re one badass wicca, but it doesn’t matter. If I know you’re out there…”

“If you know I’m there what? You won’t be able to fight properly?” Cole seethed sarcastically.

“Yeah. Exactly!” Darian retorted, usual mild mannered temper flaring up again. “I’m sorry, Cole. I’m sorry that I worry about you, sorry that I don’t think a battle is a good hang out for a teen, and really sorry I don’t want to see you get killed!”

Salty tears began to creep into his eyes, but the teen fought back the urge as he opened the door and began to storm off.

“Cole, wait!”

The boy spun back around, his face unable to mask the fear, worry and anger that stormed inside him. “Just… don’t,” the boy finished as Darian went to move.

As Cole disappeared down the hallway, another figure descended down the stairs.

“Something wrong, Darian?” Alessa asked, noting the fae’s distressed mannerisms.

“It’s Cole,” he sighed, wishing he could have had the conversation over again. “We had a bit of an argument. I should probably go talk to him.”

As Darian went to move, Alessa gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “Look, why don’t you cool down, and I'll make sure he’s ok.”

His first instinct was to protest, but a better part of him knew that when angered, Cole was stubborn, and at this point maybe Alessa would have better luck.

“Yeah,” he conceded, stepping aside to allow the demoness passage. “And Alessa, thanks.”

She nodded and smiled faintly at the fae, but before she went on she had something to say. "Darian… I- um… I'm sorry about the way I treated you. I know it wasn’t your fault- Chance's death, I mean." She looked down, not knowing how to go on, then she shook her head and smiled tightly. "There'll be a more appropriate moment to talk, though. I guess I better hurry or I'll miss him," she added, and started to walk downstairs again, and taking Chastity's form again before opening the door.

The bright light of early afternoon greeted Alessa when she got out of the building, and she shaded her eyes against the sun to look around in search of the kid. He was nowhere to be seen; he had certainly moved fast. Raising her head slightly, she tried to catch Cole's lingering scent, and she smiled when she got the familiar traces. She started to move, following his trail. He couldn’t be that far.

She found him in the park, much farther than she had thought. The kid was sitting near the pond, throwing pebbles into the water. The stones made small splashes as he made them bounce sapito-like. He looked distraught and lonely, and Alessa felt the familiar warm affection overwhelm her.

"How do you call that?" she asked, keeping her normal ‘Alessa’ and startling him. "That bouncing in the water? In Paraguay we say sapitos, that is, little frogs… however, I don’t know in English."

“You mean skipping stones,” he replied coldly, not even turning back to look at her. Alessa wasn’t really the target of his anger, but while the hot blood was pumping that didn’t really matter.

Picking up another stone, Cole launched it with all his might, this time not even bothering to try and make it skip.

“This is bullshit, you know that! I showed everyone this month that I’m not some helpless kid, but does he care? NO! No, he doesn’t. Not wanting me at the fight - that’s bullshit!” Cole’s outburst disrupted the tranquil park, causing a flock of pigeons to fly off in distress.

"Ah," Alessa simply said, and she nodded. "So all this is because of that. Well, you can't blame Darian for trying to protect you," she said, soothingly. "This is most probably the worst thing the White Hats have faced. You could get hurt, or killed…"

“God Alessa, you sound just like Darian. Yeah, there is definitely a chance I get hurt, but what about the rest of you? What if you get hurt, or Darian, or Kyle? Kyle isn’t much older than me, yet you guys don’t seem to have qualms about letting him go.”

Alessa bit her lip, thinking what to answer to that. "Well, actually I don’t know if Kyle will be joining us, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He's quite stubborn, and I guess he needs to get revenge on Delancre for what he did to him. And of course we can get hurt, but we need to know you'll be safe."

She moved to sit next to him and watched his eyes go round when he saw her form. She smiled, and took one of his hands in hers. "There's got to be somebody left to go on if we all die."

“If you guys die, why would I want to go on?” he retorted bluntly.

“Please Cole, don’t say that.”

Clenching his fists, the boy fought the urge to lash out again. He had tried to be strong when Chance died, and it was hard, so hard. What right did they have to ask him to face that situation again? “Why shouldn’t I say that?”

“Because you have so much ahead of you, Cole,” Darian’s voice said gently startling the two from the side of the park. “I just couldn’t sit by and do nothing,” he said to Chastity/Alessa, noticing her confused expression as to why he had come. “I know you want to be there to help, I get that Cole, but there is so much that can go wrong…”

“Yeah, that applies to you and Alessa, and Kyle,” Cole emphasized, hoping the Kyle point would have more effect on Darian than it did on Alessa.

“Kyle is a different story. What Delancre did to him… if he didn’t come, I don’t think he’d ever get past what happened down in that mansion.”

Alessa nodded at that. "Kyle needs to go, but you don’t." She gripped Cole's hand strongly and smiled at him. "I just need to know you'll be safe, Cole, " she said. "I've already lost too much to risk losing you too. And you will go on, for us, for Chance." She felt guilty for bringing Chance to the conversation, but she was feeling desperate. The determination on the kid's face was scaring her. "He wouldn’t want you to be killed before you grew into the man we know you'll become."

“We promise to be careful,” Darian added pleadingly.

There was an intense moment of silence, as they watched the teen silently deliberate in his mind exactly what he would do.

*They’re doing this because they care so much about me - and that’s why I have to go.*

“Fine, I’ll stay,” he lied, already going over which spells he would need to make it to the fight unnoticed.

A look of relief washed over Alessa’s and Darian’s faces, as they simultaneously gave a sigh of relief.

“It’s for the best, Cole,” Alessa smiled, as she hugged him warmly.

Cole couldn’t help but smile to himself as he returned the embrace, *God, don’t they remember teenagers never listen?*

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Sat, 09/11/2004 - 18:54.

June 7th
4:30 pm
1318 Poplar Ave.

The moment she crossed Poplar's door Alessa changed back to her usual self. She liked looking like Chastity - the girl had a certain flair that appealed her - but meeting with her inside the building would be awkward and she tried to avoid it. Fortunately after tonight she wouldn’t have the need for such disguises, since either Delancre or herself would be dead.

She was tired after an exhausting night and an emotionally difficult day, so she had left Ellis to rest at least a couple of hours before the attack or she wouldn’t be of much use to the White Hats. She was already yawning as she climbed the stairs to Tash's apartment, thankful that the woman had a spare bedroom for her to rest, when she almost bumped to somebody who was jumping his way down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn’t looking," she said.

Kyle coughed and shuffled his feet a little. He’d been waiting all afternoon and most of the morning to catch Alessa, and had spent almost the entire night thinking about it. His resolve was determined, there was no question about that. He was going to do this from the moment he had heard about it - the only problem came in talking to Alessa. Despite their little heart-to-heart the other day, Kyle was still uncertain about her. “Umm, actually Alessa, I was kinda looking for you.”

Alessa looked up, surprised by the grave tone of the kid. She could see that he was nervous and she wanted to reassure him. "Oh. You wanted to talk to me?" He nodded. "Sure, we can talk at Tash's. Let's go."

Kyle shifted again. “Uhh, actually, it won’t take five minutes. There’s just something I wanted to ask you, about the battle tonight. And I’ve gotta dash, I’m about to meet Darian to get in some training.”

"Oh, ok. Shoot," she said, leaning on the corridor wall and wondering what could he want to talk to her about.

“Well, you see, it’s like this.” He looked away to gather his thoughts, then levelled a surprisingly mature and serious gaze at Alessa. “I heard what you’re going to be doing tonight, you and the Demon Police and those Ghosts. It’s… it’s quite something. What you’ll be up against…” The demon shook his head. “I don’t think any of you are going to come out alive.”

It was Alessa’s turn to look away. The full impact of what she was going to be doing had not fully registered until now. Kyle was right. They were probably all going to die.

Kyle took another deep breath. “I want to help.”

Alessa's head snapped back at him. She was puzzled; after what she had talked about with Cole and Darian, she had thought the Kaoshian would go with Darian. "But I thought you were going with Darian…" at Kyle's shaking head she stopped. "Ok, my bad."

She looked at him again. "Are you sure? You could die too…" She saw the resolute expression on his face and knew the answer even before he spoke. The conversation with Cole came rushing to her mind, and she wondered what she could say. She had been so sure the boy was coming that she hadn't even thought about it. But now she did, and she wondered if she could tell him yes. Kyle wasn’t Cole. He was much older and probably much tougher too. And she knew that he'd go anyway. Darian was right; if Kyle didn’t face this battle he would probably never heal from Delancre's wounds.

"We'll welcome your help, Kyle," she answered and nodded then, determined, but she had to smile anyway. "That would mean you becoming a good guy yourself; are you ready for the challenge?"

The demon nodded without hesitation. “When the fight comes, I want to be down there in the thick of it. You’ll be where the real fight is, and there’s no way I’m missing out on that. I know I-” He winced, “Delancre made me do a lot of bad things. And the best way I can think of making it up is killing as many of the poor bastards he’s got under his control as possible.”

"I understand. Well, I'm going to be fighting with Ellis and his Demon Police. I know he'll welcome an extra fighter." She wasn’t so certain about that, but she'd talk him into it anyway. "We'll be in the forefront of the battle too, so you'll see plenty of action."

She suppressed a yawn and went on, "I'm going to take a rest now, I'm beaten after last night's ritual, but I'll meet you in a couple of hours, ok?"

“Sure,” Kyle nodded. “I’ll see you then. And, uh, thanks.”

"No problem Kyle. I understand how you feel. See you." She turned around to continue climbing the stairs when she stopped and looked at him again. "Kyle, I… I was wondering if you were going to stay at Darian's after all this finishes?"

Alessa’s question brought Kyle’s head snapping up. “Uh, well, I really hadn’t thought past tonight, y’know…”

She nodded and bit her lip. "Well, I'm trying to think past tonight, even when I know the odds are against us. I've already survived some rough situations before, so I try to think positive." She smiled, "I asked because - well, I wouldn’t mind you staying at my house… after tonight, I mean. It's a big place, anyway. And we've already survived living together, we even managed not to bump into one another. I guess we could again," she hurried to add.

Kyle awkwardly looked away and scratched the back of his head. “Uh, well I, uh, that is to say… I don’t know, I mean… I guess Darian’s is a little cramped, and if you’ve got the room to spare… Umm, tell you what, let’s wait until we get through tonight and then I’ll think about it.”

"Sure," Alessa lowered her eyes, a little ashamed of her outburst. She nodded, and smiled, "Let's just concentrate on getting through tonight, and we'll talk about it again."

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Sat, 09/11/2004 - 23:06.

Thursday, 7th June 2007 – 8:03pm

The sun was setting in the west, red against the grey LA sky. For those evening commuters brave enough to face the freeway traffic there was little to admire about the moist clingy haze of smog that was rolling out to the sea. Air conditioning and car radios filled the evenings of those people to the point where they barely noticed each other’s vehicles much less the man flying over their heads, wings of fire springing from his back like a cape of flame.

Oz kept as low as he could practically fly, fighting the thermals that rose off the freeways and made him rise unwillingly into the sky. He did not want to present a target to any casual lookouts. He flew in from the west using the sun at his back to mask the distinctive flaming wings that every angel wore. Ahead he could see the cul-de-sac where his allies had gathered awaiting his signal. He had been loathe to let them see his wings and to verify his angelic origin to them. He had merely told them he could fly. He left the details to their imagination. At some point he was certain they might need to know the particulars, but for now, at least, he was going to keep it a secret.

He banked below the view to glide over the compound walls. A few demons pacing the grounds never lifted their heads to look above them. The idea of an aerial approach was not something they had considered. Oz located the guard house that Tash had identified on her drawings of the compound and he folded his wings in tight and dove for the entrance.

The guard looked up just as Oz’s fist connected with his jaw. The demon flew backwards and his head cracked hard against the wall of the shack making a sound loud enough to wake the dead. Oz crouched low in the booth waiting for anyone to respond to the noise, praying that for once his damnable bad luck would leave him alone.

Then suddenly, only giving Oz enough time to feel the hand on the back of his neck, Alice smashed his head face first into the control console. “I rather expected more from an angel.”

As Alice looked at the monitors she could see a small force of ex White Hat members at the gates. “Children.”

She heard a soft crack. Oz had pulled the gate release and broken the lever. “Oh! You little son of a….” …Smash... Alice rammed Oz’s face into the large red alarm button on the wall.

Tash glanced around at the team assembled before the gates. Reah flexed her hands and Tash could swear she saw the glint of metal at her knuckles. Behind Reah clustered Alessa, Ellis and Darian. Looking over her other shoulder Tash checked off Kate and Ryan, and she gave Onyx a small, secretive smile before turning her attention back to the gates in front of her.

The gates slowly began to open and Tash grinned. Oz had managed to do his bit, it seemed. She gestured forward and the group began to slip towards the tall gates just as an alarm began to screech out over the grounds.

“Shit.”

***

“Lord Delancre!”

Ambrose Delancre scowled over his dinner of succulent venison. He was rarely in a good mood these days.

“What is it this time?”

“Sir, we’re under attack. Some dozen individuals have just entered through the main gates. I’ve despatched four squads to deal with them.”

“Identities?” Though even before he asked, Delancre knew who it had to be.

The aide waved his hands and a shimmering hologram appeared in the air, showing the White Hats as they entered the grounds. Delancre’s scowl deepened.

“As I thought. Send an additional ten squads. Inform me… no. No, I will go myself and observe.”

“But, Sir-”

“NOW!”

“Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir. It is already done, my Lord.”

***

Alessa weighted the weapon in her hands and she started to move towards the gates with the rest of the group. Reah had been quite generous with the ammo, and she had selected several knives and the deadly Uzi she was grasping. She had also brought Chance’s crossbow, for luck, and it was comfortingly slapping her back.

She gripped the cold metal of the gun and breathed deeply before stepping further. Getting onto these grounds again was taking more courage than she had thought, but she needed to do this. She was deeply ashamed of what had happened at the mansion, and would have never come back if it weren’t to draw a finale line to all of it. As it were, she was ashamed to face Delancre again.

She took a quick side glance and saw that Ellis was looking at her. His empathy must have been returning because he offered her a reassuring smile before looking forward and advancing with the rest of the people. It felt good to be surrounded by so many friends after so much time alone.

Reah lagged slightly behind the rest of the team at a casual trot, the blaring alarm a mere distant hum to her ears whilst she concentrated her senses on everything else, keeping a sharp eye out for the first wave of their soon to arrive welcoming party.

… There; just peeking over the rise… *Here comes fun!*

Keeping close to the rest of the group as they neared the mansion, Kate lowered her shields ever so slightly, allowing herself to be more receptive to an oncoming attack. The magical wards that surrounded the compound still tingled with live energies and Kate felt a shiver travel the length of her spine, the wards seemed much stronger than before. It was obvious that Delancre had had his defences increased after their last attack.

Focusing all her concentration on her telepathic connection to the other witches that waited at Runyon Canyon, Kate sent out a loud and clear message. It didn’t matter if Delancre’s mages picked up on this, the sound of the blaring alarm in the background meant that he was already alerted to their presence.

*Now…*

A sudden surge of cabbalistic energies descended upon the compound, breaking through the mystical defence system like a flooded river bursting its banks. To Kate it felt as though someone had released an oppressive burden from her shoulders as her powers became suddenly stronger and more acute. The whole process took less than a minute as the White Hats came face to face with what must have been several hundred demonic soldiers who had already begun to file out from the direction of the barracks.

“Bloody hell… there are hundreds of them.”

The words were barely out of Kate’s mouth before Reah leapt forward, her knives gleaming in the deepening twilight. Her actions incited the rest to spring into action as she screamed straight down the field, diving claws first to skewer clean through a leading demon, pinning him into the ground before she leapt back up, slashing and hacking her way through the demon troops in a flurry of flashing blades and bright red blood.

Oz looked up, the blood streaming from his nose and the numerous cuts on his face from the switches and broken plastic shields of the control panel. There was a girl. An attractive girl was holding him up with one arm. Another of Delancre’s troops, no doubt.

She was cursing at the monitors. Oz could see, blearily, that the gate was open and his forces were coming in. He smiled and coughed attracting her attention. “Guess I did the job, eh demon?”

“You probably just got them all killed; they are vastly outnumbered here,” she said with pride.

Oz had reason to be defiant. “We had inside information. Delancre has barely one hundred troops here. And we know their weaknesses.”

Alice pushed the man back. “Great intel. There are a hundred times that many troops. I suggest you fly away as fast as you can.”

Oz shoved back at the small woman who didn’t budge an inch. She was like a bronze statue. Oz shoved again and got an equally unimpressive response. So he spat at her.

The red-tinged spittle flew past her face and she actually turned her head to watch it land on the floor of the booth. Oz feared what her reaction might be when she turned back but he had nothing to fight with. His sword was on the ground a few feet away and she was too strong for him to even hurt, much less defeat. He smiled and shrugged at her when her gaze centred back on his.

Alice reached down and picked up his sword and handed it back to him. “Run!” As he took back his weapon Alice grabbed his wrist and belt. She whispered, “Run fast,” then she hurled him though the forward window of the guardhouse.

Oz remembered the impact against the glass. He even remembered the short trajectory over the grass outside. He didn’t remember the impact with the lawn. He didn’t remember anything much after that except for terrible dreams of bunnies.

Tash gazed in dismay at the hordes of troops that rushed towards them. This attack had always been intended as a feint, to draw Delancre and his remaining troops to the canyon where the bulk of their forces waited. But she had hoped that he wouldn’t have had time to gather his reinforcements, and that they could deal a solid blow against the twisted Watcher. Fate, it seemed, had not smiled upon the White Hats today.

Gritting her teeth she barely registered the furious attacks the others were making as they fought against the waves of demonic soldiers. Of her zombies there was no sign, and Tash knew that with this many troops here Delancre wouldn’t risk that Marcus might be lurking somewhere ready to subvert them. Fine, it just meant she had to get her way to them instead.

With a yell, she cut a swath through the front ranks, the gun she’d borrowed from Reah’s ‘special consignment’ area growing warm in her hands. Swivelling her head wildly, she considered and discarded half a dozen options of reaching the zombies’ storage shed in as many seconds. There were just too many troops. Ducking a sword that whistled over her head, Tash fired at point-blank range into the demon’s chest, blowing him backwards as she stumbled back a step or two.

The hard gem in her pocket seemed to grow heavy as she pondered her options. There was no way Delancre would order the zombies to accompany him on their counterstrike, but she had to ensure they would get there...

Straightening, she glanced over the heads of the oncoming demons and spotted Ambrose Delancre’s figure standing upon the steps of the mansion. Slowly and deliberately she pulled the sapphire from her pocket and dropped it on a flagstone, then ground it to dust with her boot heel. A jolt of force shot through her, and though her psychic abilities were still well underpowered, the connection she shared with the zombies as their queen was all too apparent. Swallowing her revulsion at the dark energy, she lifted her gun once more and continued firing into the ranks before them, hoping that she was close enough to her undead creations.

Ryan moved forward with the others. He felt no surge of dismay at the sight of the overwhelming force gathering before them. It didn’t matter. They had to make this work. They had to succeed. Maia and Daye had to be safe... for good. Grimacing, Ryan stepped into the fray. He swung a long curved blade in a steady, practised arc, cutting through demons. He was focused fully on the fight, and he had one advantage. Ryan had trained personally with the Slayer and the Watcher Corps. He knew their tactics and fighting style.

From where he stood, overlooking the battle at the gates, Delancre suddenly noticed the golden skinned demon wading systematically through his men. Ryan fought ferociously, his part in this attack the culmination of his betrayal. Bitter bile burned in the back of Delancre’s throat and he unconsciously began to move down the steps.

Kate’s attention was momentarily waylaid as she saw Tash plough her way through the demonic troops, she didn’t have much time to observe, however, as the demon she had been fighting landed a heavy punch that knocked her off her feet and sent her scrambling across the floor. Her eyes glowed darkly, becoming little more than a rolling void of blackness as she turned all her powers onto the demons.

“Evil winds that blow,
That which forms below
No longer may you dwell,
Death takes you with this spell.”

Aiming the full force of the incantation upon the first dozen demons that faced her, a powerful ripple of deadly magic issued from her finger tips, swirling around the soldiers, growing thicker and stronger as Kate focused upon the destructive intent of the spell. With a sudden burst of fire the demons screamed in abject fear as they were entirely consumed until nothing more but blackened ash lay where they had stood.

Stifling a pained sob, Kate quickly got to her feet as another fifty demons headed in her direction. The sheer evil of the spell she had performed shook her to the core but she made herself continue, reciting the incantation a second and third time.

Galen had told her firmly, there was no time to question the veracity of their actions that night, what had to be done must be so and the consequences could be dealt with later. Right now they were vastly outnumbered, more so than they could ever have imagined. If they were going to survive they needed to get out of there and head back to where their reinforcements waited… quickly.

Dodging another attack, Kate returned her focus to the battle here and now, praying that the signal to retreat would come before they were all dead.

The demons’ thunderous approach brought back unpleasant memories for Onyx but she shook them off in seconds. She was here to help lure Delancre and his troops out and that meant she had to announce her presence. To that end she pulled out a plastic capsule about half an inch in diameter. Within was a viscous fluid and Onyx smiled. Hyde was a wonderful tool and its tricks had taught her a great deal. The bacterium inside her little surprise wasn’t long-lived or infectious but it fed on mana - ravenously. With a pulse of magic she prodded her creation from stasis then flung it to burst amongst the demons furthest from their little group.

The capsule burst as the liquid within seemed to boil. Spread in an aerosol spray, the bacteria within guzzled at the local mana. In seconds the area within was depleted and the core of the cloud began to die. But where the liquid touched demon flesh the bacteria fed longer and gained a chance to multiply. As it did so it fed and the demon’s strength failed as it ate and ate and ate. But the feast couldn’t last and as fast as the bacteria grew they also died. It didn’t matter though, for Onyx flung other spheres into the forces before her and more demons succumbed to her engineered disease.

As the armies of Delancre poured out onto the grounds, the fae jumped into action. At first he simply spun through the masses, taking down the demons as gently as possible. If Kyle had been an example, perhaps not all these warriors were functioning under their own will, and if that were the case they didn’t deserve to die on this day. However, as the fight continued on Darian’s energy slowly depleted, and the adversary’s armies showed no signs of diminishing.

*At this rate, I’m going to get myself trampled,* he conceded regretfully, as he gathered the power of a small storm into his body. With a thunderous BOOM he released the pent up magic, sending a wave of electricity circling outwards.

“Won’t you give a poor faery a break?” he sighed, as countless more demons clawed their way over the unfortunate fighters unlucky enough to be caught up in Darian’s magic.

Alice appeared from the guard house door, pistol in one hand and her knife in the other. She quickly glanced over that battlefield. Demons and White hats were engaged in yet another fight for their lives. Alice spotted Reah mangling a large squad of demons, and smiled.

She couldn’t help but be impressed at how the young shop girl had grown. Alice levelled her gun, aiming at Reah’s head. *This seems familiar.* Alice’s gun rang out as the bullet started its journey to its target.

“Fuck!” Reah’s entire body was thrown off balance as her vibro sword was sharply struck in her hand, a bullet ricocheting off the blade into the throat of an assaulting demon while she whipped her head up in time to catch a long sighted glance of Alice grinning back at her, pistol still smoking in the demoness’ hand.

*What the fu-?* Reah quickly rolled under the charge of some beastie, curving her blade up beneath it to carve through its insides as she came up to her knee behind the monster and leapt forward once more, only this time away from the swarm of bloodthirsty demons to a rather awkward situation instead.

“Alice, wha… Fu…. Hi?” she gasped, nearly breathless and constantly looking over her shoulder for danger.

Alice spun her gun back to her holster. “Hi hon.” With a low spin kick Alice tried to trip the ‘off guard’ Reah. However, reflexes still on high alert, Reah jumped over the good attempt and stared back at the demoness in perplexity, quickly realising that it wasn’t her friend she was facing here.

Without wasting another breath on the disturbance that now grated on her soul, Reah raised her sword arm back up and swung through, sparks flying off in multiple directions as Alice’s flashing hand suddenly produced an intricate knife that burst into life. It deflected the blow so quickly that even Reah’s enhanced vision was near useless to see it.

“Really don’t want to do this,” Reah spluttered through gritted teeth as the two countered their strength, blade on blade. Alice merely grinned wickedly back, chock full of confidence. “But I haven’t exactly had much say in anything lately, now, have I?”

They pushed off and the battle was on.

Delancre stood at the bottom of the stairs. Ana and a rank of her finest fighters were between him and the battleground. He scanned the area, taking in bits and pieces of each fight. His gaze was drawn suddenly back, though, when he saw an achingly familiar figure in the middle of the chaos.

Alessa carried a heavy looking gun and was currently firing it at the demon soldiers charging her. Delancre felt a stabbing pain deep within at the sight of his beloved there before him. She’d betrayed him too. They’d all betrayed him. Fury flared suddenly to life as Alessa lifted her head and caught him watching her. Delancre’s breath hissed between his teeth as Alessa smirked at him, pausing to blow him a mockery of a kiss before turning back to the fight.

“Damnit!” Delancre screamed. “Kill them!!!! Kill them all!!! Ana, don’t you fail me again!”

CLANG

chink

SWOOSH

“Arg!” Reah cried out as her sword flew from her grip and instinctively jumped back to avoid her torso being sliced clean open, blades already shooting out, then slipped back in under Alice’s attack to deal hand to hand, claw to blade with the demoness.

SHING

CRACK

Reah’s head reeled from Alice’s powerful backhand and she fell through the blow to counter while her hand slunk towards her Ares Predator; she spun round with a backward thrust kick, knocking the demoness off balance. The flaming blade sliced clean across Reah’s leg, and as Alice stumbled, Reah’s right hand whipped straight up-

BANG

Reah thought her heart stopped… Alice looked at her blankly and she could see the torn entry point of the bullet, dead centre on the demon’s heaving chest. Another beat and the woman collapsed. Taking a step closer the world started to spin as she tried to focus on Alice’s crumpling body she’d just shot with her Predator.

She’d killed Alice…

Ellis looked towards Alessa for the hundredth time and smiled in spite of the situation. The demoness was fighting as if she had born doing it. All the White Hats fought like that, and against all odds they were still standing. *We are still standing,* he thought as he ducked and kicked and fired his way out of a thick group of demons.

Ellis sidestepped a scaly demon’s punch, slamming him a harsh blow that, however, didn’t move the thick being. Ellis smirked, and his left hand pressed his gun to the demon’s gut. He fired it and turned as he heard a cry. It was Alessa; a Trenoil’ka demon had grabbed the Uzi from her hands and was turning it against her. Ellis was going to step in front of it when he saw Alessa’s hand turn into a huge paw, slicing the demon wickedly across the middle with her claws, doubling it over. She then spun deftly, decapitating it with a long silvered blade. “That’s for Daye,” he heard her say before jumping to face another Trenoil’ka.

When she ran out of bullets Tash dropped the weapon she carried, its barrel slowly scorching the grass a dark brown. Pulling out her own handgun, she began to retreat backwards to the gates. The numbers were too vast, and if they didn’t leave soon they would all be killed and all their fighting would have been in vain.

“Retreat!” she called over the noise of battle and the screams of wounded and dying troops. She could only hope none of those screams issued from the throats of her friends. “Back to the gates! Retreat!”

Reah just stood there in a daze, oblivious to the war around her that slowly forced its way back into her mind. Looking up she suddenly noticed a familiar face she once sparred with running towards her - the Slayer - and Reah was suddenly all too aware of the burning sensation in her left calf accompanied by the sticky warmth of her own blood spreading beneath her full body armour. She glanced once more to the one who had made the cut and suddenly noticed the demoness was still breathing, if somewhat raggedly, winded and reeling on the ground. She was still alive?

“What..?” No time. Reah’s head whipped up, suddenly all too aware of her surroundings again and realised after a quick glance around the battlefield that she was supposed to be retreating, now. “Fuck!”

As she backed up, firing, Tash continued to scan the rear ranks of the army that faced them. More demons were appearing, and yet more, and with a sinking heart Tash wondered if Delancre had somehow managed to transport all his troops from Colombia. Then she spotted them. A thin rank of troops stood apart from the rest, silently watching her. She gestured to them, trusting that they still remembered their training and would accurately interpret her signal to follow the enemy troops.

“Retreat!” she called again, as she began to run. She saw Onyx fire off one last set of her spheres into the advancing demons and follow, and Darian came after with Kate and the others. “Reah, dammit! RETREAT!”

The woman reluctantly stepped away from her fallen opponent, and Tash’s eyes widened. “Alice?” Her gait slowed and faltered. “Alice, come with us. Why are you still working for him?”

Alice stood painfully, giving a subtle shake of her head to Tash. Someone grabbed Tash’s arm and yelled in her ear. The words were unintelligible, but the meaning was clear enough. She cast a last despairing glance at Alice and whirled, running to the gates with an army of demons at her heels.

The person running beside her suddenly wasn’t there any more, and Tash turned her head to see Darian had stopped and was staring at something on the ground. Grabbing his arm in turn, she yelled, “Come on! No time for sightseeing… oh.”

Tash and Darian shared a quick glance at each other, then at the yelling stampede rushing up behind them. Wordlessly they hefted Oz’s limp body between them and ran, dragging his feet in the gravel. Tash figured he wouldn’t mind too much, and would understand their need for haste. She hoped so, anyway.

The Finale - Part One

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 09/12/2004 - 19:34.

Thursday, 7th June 2007 – 8:40pm
Runyon Canyon

Daye stood on the chosen battlefield, facing the opening to the canyon. Galen stood beside her and Sam was there as well, with Maia cuddled close in his arms. They were all quiet, waiting. Daye glanced time and again up at the ridge not far behind her where the Sindell witches waited, shrouded in darkness. She couldn’t see them except for their eyes, glowing with an empty, silver light, like those of a cat or another feral beast, nothing more than tiny pinpricks of white against the black sky. As soon as Delancre showed up she would be casting her spell, with their aid, teleporting the two men and the girl to where they stood. Daye was more than a little apprehensive about it.

Galen could sense Daye’s tension, it was written into every muscle of her body and the frequent glances over her shoulder to where he knew the witches of Sindell lurked. His own eyes, however, were firmly fixed upon the entrance to the canyon as he watched for some sign of his wife and their friends to appear. He would much rather be with Kate right now instead of standing here… waiting. It was the waiting that troubled him the most, though he knew that priority would change as soon as the battle began. Then he would wish to be standing here in the calm, silent night, a cool breeze whistling through the canyon with nothing but tense apprehension filling his senses. He almost shuddered as he considered what lay before them tonight.

Oz’s awareness of being dragged preceded his taking a few stumbling steps by only a few seconds. But when the people carrying him let go he stumbled and fell. Oz rolled over and he saw Tash look forward and wave Darian ahead.

“No, it’s ok,” she said to the fae, “I can take care of him from here.”

She looked down at Oz who smiled back at her. “Sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t quite ready to do that on my own. Let me get up and try that again.”

Oz rolled back and lifted himself to his feet and against the advice of his back and legs, which were complaining bitterly, he stood.

Tash steadied him with a hand under his elbow, glancing behind them to gauge the progress of the army that followed on their heels. The smaller group had opened the gap considerably, but Tash feared that was mostly because Delancre had taken enough time to gather more of his forces. She just hoped her zombies were taking the rear, as she’d ordered them.

She refocused on Oz, who swayed unsteadily. “Are you going to be okay to go on? We don’t have a lot of time, I’m afraid.”

Oz accepted her help until his head stopped spinning and he could stand steadily. “Sorry to take so long. How much time do we have?”

“Shh.”

Both of them lifted their heads to listen in the gathering gloom of night. The sounds of thousands of marching feet carried clearly over the city’s normal noises, and Tash looked back at Oz with a grim expression.

“Not long. You sure you’re okay? We could find someplace for you to hide if you’re not up to this…”

“Hiding isn’t my style,” he said as he quickly checked his equipment. He still had the machine guns but he had lost his other equipment somewhere along the way.

He looked around, “Tash, do you have a spare headset and some of those ‘Ghost’ night-vision goggles? Mine seem to have disappeared. I need to get up there and start reporting their movements.”

Oz seemed to be more ‘with it’ by the second, so Tash jerked her head at him to follow her and began to jog after the others. The last thing they needed was to have Delancre’s army catch up to them here in the middle of the street – and there was still a way to go to reach the canyon. As she moved she shrugged her backpack off her shoulders and fished around inside.

“Ah, there.” She handed Oz the requested items. “You’ll probably have to adjust them – I took three of each but fitted them all to myself. I didn’t want to get caught flat-footed,” she grinned.

Glancing sideways at him as they jogged, noting his blood-caked face and his Rambo-esque appearance complete with machine guns, she reassessed the claims he’d made the very first time they’d met, when she’d fished him from the aqueduct. He certainly didn’t look like an angel. “So… how did you get inside to open that gate, then? And who was driving the truck that hit you?”

Oz slipped on the headset she handed him and clipped the receiver to his belt. He slipped the goggles through a loop and resolved to adjust them in-flight. “I was beaten up by a short Hispanic girl who threw a punch like a gorilla,” Oz said without humour, as he jogged alongside Tash.

*That has to be Alice.* Suddenly she noticed Oz had stopped and she turned to face him. “Keep moving, they’re right on our tail.”

Oz smiled at her and said, “Getting into the compound was easy. Demons never seem to defend from the air.” With that, he opened his arms and his fiery wings ignited from his back and he leapt straight into the dusky sky.

Tash’s jaw hit the ground and for several seconds she stood open-mouthed staring into the sky. “Holy shit, he really is an angel.”

Shouts from behind warned her that she’d been seen and she broke into a full run towards the canyon, to get herself in position. She was sure everyone else would be well and truly in place by now, and Oz… well, Oz would certainly be well-placed to reconnoitre.

Even as she thought this her head-set crackled into life and his voice came through. “Uh, can everyone hear me? Right… there’s something of the order of five thousand soldiers marching down the street towards the entrance to the canyon…”

Sliding towards her position in the canyon, Tash heard voices whispering loudly back and forth from the shadows.

“Five thousand? Doesn’t he mean hundred?”

“How many? God, he can’t be serious.”

“Hmph. Good, I need a challenge.” That last had to be Reah, Tash thought.

Oz’s voice continued. “Um, roughly an additional thousand or so have split off from the main group and are coming around the north side, and I can see a smaller group of maybe a hundred right at the rear.”

Tash grinned to herself in the dark. Those would be hers. Good. She settled in and waited as the vanguard began to pass her by, waiting for the right time to reveal herself.

Daye held onto Maia tighter, feeling fear and apprehension flowing through her very bones. Though she fought to control her emotions she had to admit that she was scared. Scared that she wouldn’t be able to get Maia to safety, scared that Ryan might do something foolish tonight, scared that one of her friends would become Delancre’s next victim. She was scared of so many things, but she had to keep it together. There was no backing out now.

“You don’t have to worry about Maia,” Galen reassured her, laying a hand on her arm. “Sam and I will protect her, whatever happens.”

Daye was about to convey her thanks when she suddenly spotted her friends, the ones who’d attacked the mansion, come rushing into the canyon. She knew that Delancre and his army would be right on their tail. Fighting down a wave of nausea, Daye’s eyes widened in horror as the enemy began to pour in a few minutes behind her friends. There were so many of them, so many more than they had hoped. Obviously, Delancre had managed to bring in the reinforcements that Tash had warned them about. The demons were streaming in, rushing forward.

Daye turned towards Galen and Sam and took a deep breath. “It’s time now,” she said. “This will be a bit disorienting. You both ready?”

Sam nodded. “Sure. Go ahead, Sis.”

Galen nodded slowly. He was still a bit unsure about this teleportation stuff, but he’d agreed. Now was not the time for second thoughts. “Go on. I’m ready.”

“All right,” Daye smiled reassuringly at him. “Thanks, Galen.”

Without another word, Daye pulled the components from the bag at her belt and began to chant. She opened herself up, the telepathy spell creating a link between her and the Sindell witches. She could feel their energy bolstering her as she worked her magic. After a few moments Galen, Sam and Maia were engulfed in a soft white light. Daye concentrated and seconds later they disappeared. Bringing the spell to an end, Daye glanced up and saw them standing where she’d intended, looking a bit disoriented perhaps, but none the worse for wear.

*Power can sure be a high,* thought Daye with a frown. It had been that way with the black magic she’d worked while suffering from Hyde. She would have to be very careful from here on out. She sometimes could feel that power simmering beneath the surface, calling to her. She would never answer that call again. Picking up the staff that she’d left on the ground by her feet, Daye turned back to the entrance of the canyon, squaring her shoulders as she prepared to face the oncoming hordes.

Alessa watched as a horde of demons marched towards them. Behind the demon army Alessa could see rows and rows of more of them. Five thousand on this side, Oz had said, and she looked sideways to where Ellis stood. He was still panting from the two mile run, but he was quietly talking to his Demon Police, motioning them to take their places as they waited. They were an impressive bunch, those hunters. Most were human, but at least a third of them were demons.

Kyle stood there too, already in his demon form. He was standing next to the hunters, his chin raised with determination and his axe firmly gripped. He noticed Alessa watching and nodded at her. She looked at the glowing armband he was wearing, as all the ‘demonic’ good guys were, and fingered hers with confidence; hopefully it would prevent a friend from taking them as foes.

Finally arriving at the gorge, Cole slumped on the ground taking a moment to catch his breath. Not wanting to miss the battle, he had practically run the whole way from Poplar Avenue. *God, I need to get my licence,* he mused, before the sound of thousands marching broke his concentration. Rising back to his feet, he retrieved a small amount of blue dust from his pocket and began to sprinkle it over himself.

“What is seen be gone,
What is here, vanish.”

A moment later the boy faded from sight, as the invisibility magic wrapped around his skinny form. “Well now to find them,” he said aloud, thinking of Darian, Alessa and Kyle. “Shouldn’t be too hard, there’s just… a few thousand?” he gulped as Delancre’s forces began to swarm into the opening.

Sir Ambrose William Bryce Delancre III strode into the deep valley, surrounded by his personal guards. The meagre force that had dared attack his house had scattered as they reached the patch of wilderness deep in the heart of the Los Angeles suburbs, and a cruel smile played over his lips. He was damned if he’d see a single one of them survive this day.

And there was his prize, silhouetted against the darkening sky as true night closed in around them. A moment’s worry flickered in his brain – why they would set themselves in the open like that was suspicious, to say the least. But with his goal so close he had to take the opportunity. Maybe those foolish White Hats had merely miscalculated the speed of his response.

He raised his voice. “First and second companies, angle to the left. Third and fourth to the right. Close in on that posit-”

A white glow surrounded the figures before him and Delancre barked a cry of frustration as they vanished. “Gah! Very well, first through fourth companies, continue manoeuvre, your goal is to flush out any resistance and destroy it. Everyone else, forward.”

He heard Ana repeating his order behind him, bringing her own troops fully into the canyon. By now his special force should have circled around to their position and be starting their sweep from the other side of the ridge. Anyone caught within this gully would soon be dead.

The demon troops marched onward, the flankers moving out to the sides as they advanced, then the first two ranks simply disappeared under a blazing storm of fire from the trees. Monk, the commander of the Ghosts, gave an evil grin at the momentary chaos that ensued, until the rest of the lead battalion hove into view.

“Continue firing,” he ordered his men. They would mow down as many as possible before they reached melee range, then they and the fifty or so Demon Police had the unenviable task of preventing Delancre’s forces any further advance into the gully.

Standing amongst the Demon Police and the Ghosts, Kyle watched the army approach with something bordering on excitement. The fingers of one hand stroked the axe he held, whilst the other hand darted to all the locations on his body where other weapons, knives mostly, were kept as a final check. This would be one hell of a fight, of that he was certain. In fact, it was quite likely he’d die in it, quite likely they’d all die. He knew they were hopelessly outnumbered, and that their task was next to impossible.

He knew all this, and had still volunteered without hesitation. This was where the big fight would be, down here on the front lines; where Delancre’s army would hit first and hardest.

*Let them come,* Kyle thought. Today was the day Kyle Ashton stopped running, just as he had in the labyrinth of his own mind, created by Tash to break Delancre’s conditioning. Today was the day he fought for every time he had been betrayed, lied to and used. Today was the day he directed his years of anger against Delancre.

The demon army pushed on through the Ghosts’ firestorm. Within moments they would close in to hand to hand. The ghost of a smile flickered across Kyle’s face. He was going to enjoy himself today. Oh yes, even if he died.

“Last one to double figures buys the beer,” he muttered to the Demon Police around him, as the first demons of Delancre’s army smashed into their almost pitiful ranks. Then Kyle was in the thick of it, lost to the bloody, mindless slaughter, the ferocious fighting tooth and nail, claw and talon, of kill as many as possible before being killed, that boggled the mind.

Nikolai let a pair of binoculars drop from his eyes, trying to avoid the carnage as he would be the cause of enough of that before long. A small group of gangsters, made men all, waited on the sidelines of the battle. With about six of them in total there, the group looked like a collection of thugs carrying sniper rifles.

Jimmy placed a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder. “You ok, Andropov? You’re looking a little green.”

Nikolai shook his head. No way was he going to admit the real reason for his discomfort. “There’s just so many of them.”

“Well, if we hurry, we’ll make there be less of them.”

*Six thousand? Is that all? If Delancre wants to become a god,* Marcus thought, *he’ll have to do better than that.* Marcus took up his staff and ignored the looks the various Sindell witches gave him. Slamming it into the ground he chanted over a soul-tearing shriek.

In the air above him a vortex formed, ripping a hole from one reality to another. A rift through the Great Divide itself formed and through it flitted half-seen shadows with red eyes. Wraiths. Not one or two, but hundreds eager to feed. They flowed over Delancre’s locust swarm of troops like a silent wave and left corpses in their wake.

Ducking the advances of the first fleet of troops that arrived, Kate blinked her way through the crowds engaged in battle towards the handful of Sindell warriors that were already in position, waiting for any of the demon military that might break free of the blockade. They eyed the necromancer with suspicion, his dark magic scraping on their sensitive psychic powers like fingernails on a blackboard.

“Maia,” Kate breathed out exhaustedly as she reached her compatriots. “The Child of Dynos must be protected. We need to do the spell now…”

The other witches nodded in unison, joining hands as they focused their powers upon the ridge and the two men that held watch over the sacred child. They chanted as one, glittering magics spinning a web of silver fire that circled the edge of the canyon.

“Protected by your might, gracious Goddess, day and night.
This spell is weaved of shining flame, none shall come to hurt or maim.
None shall pass this fiery wall, none shall pass, no, none at all.”

The ring of protection sealed, the circle of mages returned their watchful eyes to the unfolding battle, their magic forces growing as they waited for the moment to strike.

The gangsters stopped for a moment to watch the wraiths in their feeding frenzy. Despite being from a rather brutal world, they had never seen anything quite like this, and it was a rather impressive sight to say the least. Holding the rifle up to his shoulder, Nikolai peered through the scope and lined up a shot just in time for one of the wraiths to snatch his prey away.

Sounds of battle floated up to Tash. It took all her self-control to stop from running down the hill to where her friends were already fighting for their lives. With her night-vision goggles she’d seen Delancre himself pass by, surrounded by a cadre of elite guards, and she’d had to resist the urge to take a shot at him. It was too soon – too much of his army still had to advance into the canyon before she closed the trap.

So she waited, gritting her teeth. Her patience was rewarded, however, when she realised that the person leading the last battalion of demon troops was Ana herself. The young girl walked with an insolent swagger, and by her side was…

Tash clenched her fist so hard that her nails drew blood from her palm. Alice. Damn it all, she didn’t want to have to kill Alice, but if the woman had really cast her lot with Delancre then it might come to that. Right now she didn’t have time to dwell on exactly what Alice might be up to, though, as the hundreds of demons that Ana led advanced past her position and Tash could see the steady gait of her undead troops not far behind them.

Standing up, Tash yelled, “Attack Ana Graziani, attack her demon troops.”

The zombies galvanised into action, dropping their steady, mindless gait and becoming efficient fighting machines as they threw themselves after Ana’s battalion. The long months of training from the very girl they were now set to kill were not forgotten with their deaths, and they fought with a silent ferocity.

With a knife in one hand and her sword in the other, Tash joined them, trying not to slip on ground already slick with freshly spilled demon blood. Although a wall of demons stood between her and Ana, Tash was determined to cut every last one of them down if necessary to reach her goal.

Looking over the battlefield, Nikolai felt his breathing go heavier. The image in the scope bobbed up and down as he steadied himself, growing ever more able to track the demon. His thumb moved up to flip the safety on the rifle. A demon on the largish side, the crosshairs lined up as it moved forward. Just a few more seconds….

crack

The sound of the battle almost drowned out his individual rifle. One moment, the demon was raising a clawed hand. The next, the back of its head exploded and fell backwards, momentarily distracting its comrades.

Slipping off to the side to part from the group, Reah skipped and skidded down a ridge, crashing through brush and near missing a tree before bursting out of a bush to where Leon, Ashralin and U’lin were ready waiting. At the first sign of Reah, U’lin had jumped up behind the wheel of a massive, armoured jeep and cranked the engine to life while Leon leapt onto the back with his heavy M60 in arm. Reah nodded to Ashralin who acknowledged her in turn and bowed, fingers to forehead.

Jumping up to join Leon’s side, Reah swung around the 50-calibre machine gun on its mount and flicked back a loose strand of hair with something of a wicked grin. “Let’s get this party started.”

At Ash’s nod, U’lin ripped through the engine and tore off into the rough land.

Oz flew over the battlefield. Smoke, magic and stealth rendered most, if not all, of the combatants invisible, but knowing what to look for made it easier. And there were still a few that were not hiding at all. Reah and some friendlies had commandeered a vehicle and she was riding in the back of the Hummer spraying bullets from its pintel-mounted machine gun laughing with glee at the carnage she was leaving in her wake. A similar vehicle was completing a classic pincer manoeuvre as the two closed ranks on the trapped demons between.

Zombies were swarming Ana and her troops. As they tightened around her and her battalion, the zombies had a tougher and tougher time coping with the resolve of her troops. Ana’s commands were audible to Oz above the battlefield as she swore intermittently among the shouted orders to her troops.

In the centre of Delancre’s forces a clutch of mages hurled eldritch bolts and fireballs over the heads of their defending demons into the White Hat forces. While random and less effective it meant that death could overtake the unwary good guys. Oz reported their ranging shots as they fired them. Reporting their position over his radio proved more difficult than he had imagined when he volunteered for this duty. He had not planned to be doing as much acrobatic flying and it had him a little disoriented.

A demon trooper with a radio ran to the mages who looked up in alarm and pointed to the sky. Oz realized he had been spotted and his communications compromised. He dropped quickly to build speed and turned to retreat. Green fire singed the air where he had been and a rain of burning ash fell down around him. Bolts of energy lanced through the air as he weaved and banked.

He tried to fly lower but he saw that he was well into territory controlled by Delancre’s forces. To land would be to invite capture or death. He skimmed the treetops, energy discharges exploding above him making him crash into the topmost branches of the trees.

Ellis turned as he chopped the head off about the thirtieth demon, and he saw Alessa do the same. He was about to warn the demoness of an approaching demon coming from behind when he saw her swing her body around full in mid-air, changing into her dreadful Chewbacca form and landing with her battle axe through the demon’s sternum. He smiled and turned around.

Ellis cursed himself for his distraction when a couple of demons grabbed his arms and he was unable to move as a third approached, a threatening knife well aimed. As the knife came toward his body, he turned with all his strength making the demon stab one of his own. He then kicked the arm of the one who was trying to stab him, sending the knife in his hand back into his own head. Ellis heard a growl from the one still holding him and he tried to struggle to no avail; the huge green thing had him completely trapped. He knew that if he couldn’t get loose he would find himself outnumbered again, so he desperately fought using everything he had, but the demon was too strong, until it suddenly crumbled to the ground behind him. He turned around to see a headless demon and a smiling Mike.

“That’s how it’s done, kid,” the black man jokingly said, as he swung his axe against another demon.

Ellis stood for a moment watching his hunters win over many demons. Some had fallen, but most were fighting valiantly hand to hand, doing as much as they could to lower the demons’ numbers. Ellis stood in awe of what he saw, at least for a second, then he too dove into the fray to kill more enemies.

*The mage troops…*

*Must be stopped…*

*NOW!*

The sound of over a dozen witches resounded through Kate’s mind only seconds before she and the handful of warriors by her side suddenly vanished, their bodies seemingly breaking up into barely visible molecules that caught motion on the night air, billowing through the canyon as a powerful gale, weaving their way through the throng of demons to where Delancre’s mages stood. Landing in the epicentre of the battle they took form once more, bright, blinding light announcing their arrival and repelling the oncoming forces with a mighty explosion.

Kate dodged to one side as the troops began to recover, surging forward with renewed strength. She held out her right hand, the familiar shape of the Axe of Rama forming in her palm. Kate tightened her fingers around the handle, spinning the weapon in her hand with practised skill.

Violent bolts of energy zinged around the battlefield as the Sindell warriors exchanged blows with Delancre’s mages. Their combined powers churned up the air, filling the night with the hot scents of burning and other unmistakable auras of magic. Kate ploughed her way into the battle, keeping her senses alert to the psychic messages that reverberated through the canyon, directing the witches in their attacks. She headed towards where she saw a circle of mages performing some incantation, her progress suddenly halted as several demon soldiers charged their way into her path.

Marcus was cursing fluently in Latin. The rift he’d punched through the Great Divide was threatening to tear even further apart as his previous manipulations came back to haunt him. If he let it then the realm of the dead would spill into this plane and Marcus was sure the consequences would be unpleasant if that happened. At the same time he had to keep control of the hundreds of wraiths flitting through the battle and prevent them from feeding on the wrong troops. Every now and then the sense of one of those wraiths vanished as it fled the battle – either banished by Delancre’s sorcerers or sated from its feeding. Every time that happened Marcus was just happy that his load was easing.

With the vanguard of Delancre’s demons pinned by the fire coming from its flanks Onyx turned from her headlong flight up the canyon and prepared to meet the oncoming charge. She had no more of her bacteria bombs, but just as Marcus had armed himself for this battle so had Onyx. If the thirty-barbed spear that appeared in her hands was not the Gae Bolga of Cu Chullain out of Celtic myth, it was still a fearsome weapon in its own right. Onyx’s first over-arm cast sent the spear through four demons, killing them instantly before reappearing in her hands to be thrown again.

Kyle was a towering inferno, a blazing island amidst a sea of death and vicious hand to hand fighting. Several Demon Police and Ghosts rallied around him as he held firm against the virtually endless waves of demons that fell on them without pause. Still they came, even as Kyle sent them back dead or in little bloody pieces, his axe in fiery hands sweeping back and forth, dropping demons with each sweep.

A Ghost beside him fell to the combined attention of half a dozen demons. Kyle couldn’t do a thing to help him, only turning in time to watch the Ghost’s demise. Another dropped, and more Demon Police beside them. He couldn’t see another friendly face besides those around him, only enemies; hordes and hordes of them. An entire sea of enemies with only a bare handful standing against them. They were overrun and couldn’t hold their position much longer. Not if they wanted to live.

Then the axe was torn from his hands, and Kyle was fighting with his hands, elbows, knees, feet, tail, even teeth – anything to buy him enough precious seconds to whip out a knife or two. But time was not something they had, and he was forced to fight with his body as the only weapon.

Fortunately, his body was a damned good weapon. Kyle had volunteered to hold Delancre’s army here, and he was going to hold.

Tormented screams of pure agony made their way to Kate’s ears as she swung the Axe of Rama, cleaving the air in two with bright blue fire. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder in the direction of the screams, towards the ridge where the Watchers had been sent to hold off Delancre’s thousand-strong force sweeping in from the north. One of the young men from the Watchers’ Council lay on the ground with his own sword skewered through his thigh and holding him in place. He struggled to free himself as his adversary scraped long spikes across his belly, lining up to split him in two.

Kate spun around, sweeping the weapon in a clean arc through the air, the lightweight metal ringing like a dull bell as it severed the demon she had been fighting in half, his body burning up with the searing heat of the blade until it crumbled into dust and blew away in the wind. She leapt over the demon’s remains in the direction of the Watcher. Taking careful aim she picked up momentum and flung the axe in his attacker’s direction; aided by the hands of Rama the sharp steel lodged itself in the demon’s chest, spewing forth green goo before the creature burned up into black ash.

Maia was safe; being assured of that fact allowed Daye to wade into the morass of battling allies and demon soldiers. She quickly scanned the crowd and, catching sight of Kate, headed in her direction as they’d agreed on prior to this day. Daye held the heavy staff in her hand and used it to knock aside attackers as she weaved her way towards Kate. She hadn’t used the power focus in a long time, but it felt good to reconnect to one of her first magical tools. She felt grounded with the thick wood grasped in her hand.

She finally managed to come up on Kate, who was now kneeling over one of the wounded young Watchers. Dropping to her knees beside them, Daye asked, “Can I help, Kate?”

Kate nodded as she pulled the sword from the man’s leg and he screamed once more. “We need to get him somewhere safe; he’ll bleed to death out here. Help me lift him…”

She was about to take hold of the man’s shoulders when suddenly Kate felt a ripple of energy surge through her body. Up on the ridge she could feel the Sindell witches as they channelled their powers through her and she spun around, destructive energies crackling between her fingers as a bolt of green light issued forth, striking several demon soldiers and wrapping around them tightly. The powerful magics tightened and grew in intensity, squeezing the life from the demonic warriors. Kate slowly rose to her feet, her eyes rolling backwards into her head and turning black as the surrounding night.

“Demons that swarm and serve as one, vanquish them from where they come!”

Twenty demons launched themselves at her, but Kate’s other hand raised sharply, her movements jerky as the Sindell witches pulled her strings like a marionette. More green light twisted around her attackers, rending their limbs apart with a sickening crack.

“Tide of evil washed ashore, bringing darkness evermore. With all our strength we fight this fate, make this evil obliterate.”

Growing in strength, the emerald energy saturated itself within its victims, burning like acid until nothing remained. As the magic left Kate she gasped sharply, stumbling to the ground.

Daye moved quickly to grab Kate as she fell. She cast a worried glance at the witches standing on the ridge. “Kate?! Kate?! Are you okay?” Daye chewed her lips nervously. They were surrounded on all sides by battle, and she was the only person fully cognisant and functional of the three of them. She drew a deep breath and raised her staff, planting it in the ground between Kate and the Watcher.

“Guardians of the Light, surround us with your awesome might. Be our shield from evil attack. Stand steadfast and hold them back.”

As Daye finished the incantation, a blue light emerged from the stone at the top of her staff and surrounded them, shielding them from attack. With that in place, Daye could concentrate on making sure Kate was all right.

“Kate, come on, are you all right?” Daye asked again.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kate let Daye help her up. “I’m okay. Just a little head rush, takes some getting used to,” she said with a weak smile as they returned to the Watcher who lay on the rocky ground, blood already pooling around his wound. Kate ripped the fabric of his pants a little further to get a better view of the injury, grimacing at the bloody mess of torn flesh and muscle.

She held her hands over the gaping laceration, a warm glow emanating from her flesh and curling downwards towards the stab wound and the surrounding tissue, slowly healing and repairing the damage. Kate turned to Daye who sat by the Watcher’s side, tenderly brushing aside his hair trying to calm him and ease his pain. Kate’s expression softened a little at her friend’s gentle ministrations and she reached out and took her free hand, tightening her bloody fingers around Daye’s.

“I need your help.”

Daye nodded without hesitation. “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

Kate guided Daye’s hand over the wound, connecting into her power base. They needed to work quickly and efficiently, Daye’s forcefield was holding any attack at bay for the moment but it surely wouldn’t last forever and there would be others who would need their help. Together they let their powers bleed into one another, joined as the healing magic worked to repair the torn ligaments and muscle.

The Finale - Part Two

Submitted by Firefly on Mon, 09/13/2004 - 12:16.

Whooping with delight, Reah cried out over the deafening rattle and swung the machine gun round, levelling a fresh line of troops in a spray of red and bloodcurdling screams. Ones that survived pulled themselves about to the offence and charged directly after the raving jeep with driven purpose and passion for vengeance. Reah let the belt run down and supported herself against the deadly machine so she wouldn’t be thrown. While the jeep swerved and hurtled around and over trees, mounds and scrub, she reached for one of the grenades strapped to her thigh and ripped the pin clear with her teeth. “MESSAGE…”

BOOOOM

Ducking away from the limbs, fire and smouldering ash that rained down, Reah flinched against the gun mounting as something splattered into her side, smothering her full-armoured coat and the uncovered half of her face with a thick stench as a severed meaty forearm slumped down at her feet.

Leon glanced over from where he’d taken cover, then looked up at the contorted expression on Reah’s face. “Nice.”

“Yeah, real bewdy.” Reah smeared some of the inky black gunk off her face, then frowned down at something around the dismembered limb. “Cool armband, though. Is that leathe-whoa!” Both Reah and Leon crashed back as U’lin took a sharp turn when a wraith suddenly came out of nowhere, spooking him. The jeep hit something and was airborne for a brief moment before thudding heavily back to the ground, the back wheels skidding out from beneath. Once she’d regained some balance, Reah held onto the base of the mount with one hand and reached out jerkily to steal the strange black leather off the arm and pocket it inside her coat.

Just as she was pulling herself back up, Reah fell forward as the jeep suddenly lurched towards one side with a foreign weight latching on and jumping into the tray, massive boots just missing her head. Stunned, Reah could only stare wide eyed up at the four armed beast snarling down at her with an unslaked lust for blood before it snatched at her throat and her wits came hurtling back. Clawing at its iron grip with both hands while she choked for breath, Reah glared venomously up at the beast’s glowing red eyes and let go with one hand, drawing screams as she punched three long blades clean through the lower tendons of its pumped up leg.

Gasping and coughing for breath through her crushed throat, Reah’s head whipped over at a sudden movement that flashed over her head, colliding into the four-armed beast and knocking them out of the tray to crash on the ground. Reah half scrambled, half fell to the edge of the jeep to spot the two large demons wrestling on the ground and rapidly shrinking into the distance as other demons started to close in.

“Fuck. U’LIN!” Rapping on the cabin window, Reah signalled the billy demon to jump out and leapt off the back of the speeding jeep herself, snatching up Leon’s M60 as the vehicle charged on, unmanned, towards a large fist of troops that approached. Leaving the M60 to U’lin, Reah whipped out one of her Ares Predators, lined up through the aid of her Smartlink, waited… and fired. There was only a brief pause in the air before the jeep suddenly exploded in a spectacular fireball that reached up and out.

“C’mon!” Reah didn’t bother waiting to inspect the carnage, just pulled on U’lin’s arm – who didn’t need much convincing – and bolted back to help where Leon had fallen.

As the Russian snipers lined up another series of shots, Nikolai’s scope suddenly filled with the flesh of a demon who had found their position – and then fell backwards. Nikolai looked over to the side to see Jimmy lowering his rifle. “Fall back,” Nikolai called to the other gangsters. “We have to get to a new-”

One of the men screamed as a demon pounced on top of him. Rifles sounded in their firing, and for the first time in a long time, Nikolai felt afraid that he might actually die… then realised that it would be a fitting end to a life of violence. One final, massive battle.

The angel had distracted Delancre’s mages for a few moments and Sindell’s attack was rapidly reducing their numbers but as the casualties from the wraiths mounted they turned their attention to a mass banishing. Their dissonant chants rose and Marcus felt the energies behind it grow but rather than battling that force he welcomed it. The wraiths had fulfilled their purpose, scattering corpses all through the battlefield. Now, while his opponents were distracted, he put forth his power in all its awful glory to roll across the field. Behind it every dead demon Marcus’ wraiths had killed shuddered and rose.

The zombies thus created moved together, forming knots throughout Delancre’s armies, tearing into its close ranks and leaving more corpses behind. Marcus began to scramble downwards towards the battle, his attention now fixed on Delancre. It was time to take his revenge.

Onyx joined him, her spear disembowelling a demon before she literally ripped the lungs from another. Marcus raised more demons, letting the zombies gather around him then cutting his way towards Delancre.

Anabella Graziani fought as she’d never fought before. The battalion of demons she led were now beset on almost all sides by those accursed zombie warriors, and as she fought Ana imagined the horrible, painful death she would mete out to Natasha Brookes as payment. Breaks in the fighting afforded her occasional glimpses of the dark-skinned woman and Ana manoeuvred constantly to get closer to her position.

Then she caught sight of something more compelling – Sir Ambrose was being threatened! On one side, the turncoat Nightwalker was thrusting his way through towards his elite guard, while the necromancer Dalton advanced with what looked like Ana’s own troops recently raised from the dead. Lord Delancre stood nobly amidst his bodyguards, who fended off Ellis Longwood’s pathetic Demon Police with ease, but Nightwalker and the necromancer were another thing entirely. Fierce resolve fired Ana’s limbs and she struggled clear of her local conflict, issuing the order to her troops to continue fighting the zombies. She started towards her Lord, but a hand on her arm gave her a moment’s pause.

Alice nodded towards an approaching figure, accompanied by a large wolf that bounded ahead of it. A blaze of fire marked the man’s path as he hacked and slashed his way through the tail end of the squads that fought the Ghosts, making a beeline for Ana, and Alice knew that Kyle had a particular yen to take on the Slayer.

“Take care of him,” Ana ordered imperiously.

“Don’t worry,” Alice assured her commander, “I’ve got your back.”

As Ana turned to rush to her Lord’s side, Alice drew her pistol in one smooth move.

Bang!

Ana seemed to twist in mid-stride, the bullet whizzing harmlessly past her head.

“Damn, you’re good, girl,” Alice muttered.

Turning to the wolf, the first to approach, Alice waved him on through to the Slayer. “She’s all yours, Darian.”

The last Darian saw of Alice was a flash of blades as the woman leapt to the attack against the troops she’d been fighting alongside just moments before.

Daye and Kate stood back to back, surrounded by demon soldiers on all sides. Daye brandished a bloody sword she’d picked up somewhere along the way. Her staff was planted in the ground beside her. Daye swung the sword in a wide arc, slicing through demons. Her teeth were gritted and she was panting from the exertion of the very physical fight.

“You got another of those ‘super spells’ up your sleeve, Kate?” she asked breathlessly. “We could sure use one about now.”

Even as Daye spoke, Kate could feel her hands trembling uncontrollably. The Axe of Rama fell from her grasp, planting itself in the solid earth at her feet. The scene before her eyes began to shift out of focus and for a moment she could see high above the battlefield. More demons swarmed into the canyon like an unstoppable river, hundreds… thousands… the sound of swords clashing and burning flesh filled the air as Kate saw through the eyes of the seven witches on the ridge.

Her trembling fingers extended, independent of her own will as her conscious mind became part of the whole. Focused on the earth, Kate felt her eyes roll back again and a hollow, wailing cry issued from her lips.

“Beasts of hoof and Beasts of shell,
Drive this evil back to Hell.
Beasts of legend, myth and lore.
Kill this evil evermore.”

As the words were spoken, the ground began to shake and crack, white flames lapping at the feet of the advancing demons. Kate directed her dark eyes upon the fire, making the flames leap higher, engulfing the surrounding troops completely.

“Hell is spun, creature of death. Fire shall take your very breath.”

The screams of the demon soldiers pierced the night as their flesh was stripped back from their bones, consumed in the deadly fire. Black ash rose upwards, floating on the breeze in large flakes before falling again like snow.

Daye let loose with a whistle. “Remind me never to piss you off ever again, girlfriend. That’s some sincere firepower that you’re packing.”

Daye grinned, and pointed with her sword towards another cluster of demons. She was headed very purposely towards where Delancre and Ana were directing the troops. “Shall we?” she asked Kate.

Kate stooped to uproot her axe, still feeling those powers thumping through her veins, strong and potent. As a rogue demon lunged towards them she swung the axe through the air, the sharp blade glinting in the moonlight as she made a clean slash cleaving the horned beast in half, his head rolling free before burning up into dust. Pulling the axe free from the demon’s corpse as it slowly turned to charcoal, she turned to Daye, blinking back the inky blackness in her eyes. “Lead the way.”

Oz hung, entangled in the topmost branches of a tree, twigs scratching his face. Nearby, a frightened squirrel cowered with him. He paused to regain his breath and flew off as troops despatched to find his presumed body arrived beneath the tree. He heard the whizzing of bullets as he flew back toward the White Hat lines.

A bank of mages spotted him and Oz sprayed bullets at their position to make them scatter before casting spells. They ducked for cover but something large and hot didn’t duck. It strode into a clearing and cracked its huge black whip. Its large leathery wings cast a dreadful shadow and it leapt into the air with the grace and power of a lion on the hunt.

Oz’s heart sank. *Balrog,* he thought. *I hate Balrogs.*

Ellis and Mike were having a hard time. They were trying to sword fight a demon army; they had already used and discarded their axes, blunt after chopping too many demons, and their guns were out of bullets. They stood back to back swinging swords to attack and block.

“Mike, this is definitely getting out of hand,” the Englishman said unnecessarily, through his laboured breath, After several more minutes Mike and Ellis were surrounded and completely outnumbered when they heard Monk’s voice from above shout, “DUCK!!!!”

They did as they were told and fell to the ground, as the Ghost’s weapon of choice flew through the air, a wrecking ball. The ball swooped in at about head level hitting about thirty of the demons by itself, and then making them fly apart as it exploded.

“Strike one!” Monk laughed as he aimed his Uzi, dove out and ran toward the battle again. He noticed with amusement how the two hunters rose, shaking their heads.

Ana halted as she spun around and sneered with disgust. She had heard the traitorous Alice speaking to that annoying faery boy, yet there was no one in her vicinity save for the strange wolf that was now growling ferociously in her direction.

She planted her feet and faced the animal, her lip curling in a sneer. “Clever little trick faery, now let’s see if you can play dead.”

The beast’s fur began to shorten as its canine features began to morph, altering back into Darian’s broad, imposing form. “Well Ana, I don’t usually like to hit girls, but for you I think I’ll make an exception this once,” the fae commented, falling into a battle stance as he slowly bridged the gap between him and the Slayer. He knew coming into this battle that he would have to come to fists with the girl; he had superhuman powers, and so he stood the best chance of any of the White Hats to take her down.

Without warning, the man dove forward, showering down a multitude of blows. *Damn, she is that good,* he grimaced, as the young girl dodged or blocked each and every of his attacks.

Grimacing in resignation at this waste of her precious time, Ana launched her own attack against Darian, landing solid blows on his body – but for every impact that made him stumble back he stepped forward once more.

“I don’t…” whump “…have time…” crack “…for this bullshit!”

Ana punctuated her words with a devastating round of punches and kicks, but the damn fae just kept coming back for more. Even more infuriatingly, he kept trying to hit her in return. From the corner of her eye, Ana could see her Lord’s bodyguards failing beneath Nightwalker’s onslaught, and she redoubled her efforts.

That momentary break in the Slayer’s concentration was the opening Darian was waiting for. Dodging under a sharp right hook, the fae drove his elbow into the girl’s stomach, and immediately followed up with a backhand to her face.

“Maybe you should be more worried about your own safety than Delancre’s,” Darian panted, as he started to feel the strength fading from his body. Every time the Slayer hit him, it felt as if he was being stuck by a freight train, but still he fought on, even managing to land a few more solid hits before Ana regained her full concentration.

Nikolai felt the breath whoosh out of him as one of the demons proceeded to knock him to the ground. Steel flashed through the air as Jimmy stuck a knife into its belly and pulled once quickly across the middle of its stomach. “Thanks,” Nikolai said, breathing heavily.

“No problem,” replied Jimmy, before having to turn and watch another of his comrades fall in battle. Nikolai pulled himself to his feet, picked up one of the swords he’d brought – a ‘backup’ weapon – and returned to the fray.

The crystal on the end of Daye’s staff glowed brightly as she led the way across the battlefield. She and Kate stayed close together as they dodged various attacks, stopping occasionally to help heal the wounded as they struggled to reach Delancre and Ana. There was already a small group engaged with the Slayer, though at this distance Kate couldn’t quite make out who, and as for Delancre he was surrounded by a group of fierce looking bodyguards who were keeping the Demon Police at bay.

Daye stayed close to Kate, but she moved forward with determination. She saw to their left another tall figure moving through the ranks of demons, headed in the same direction.

“Kate!” she exclaimed. “We have to hurry. Ryan is headed that way too... but he’s alone.”

Turning her head in the direction that Daye pointed, Kate saw the demon as ploughed his way through the growing mass of Delancre’s bodyguards. Pure and unadulterated revenge was set in his every move, his eyes fixed and determined as he focused on the man at the centre.

Delancre’s eyes frantically surveyed the scene as the White Hats slaughtered their way through his armies. They shouldn’t have been so organised, their numbers shouldn’t have been so many. He looked up to see several figures looming on the ridge of the canyon, helping to direct his enemies, intervening where possible, and amongst their ranks the child Maia, safely out of his reach.

Kate twirled the Axe of Rama around in a horizontal figure of eight, the blade glowing with energy with each stroke. As the metal burst into flames Kate released the hilt, directing it in a straight path in the direction of Ryan. The axe sliced through several dozen demons before lodging itself in the chest of a hulking Ukka’rran beast. Before the soldiers had time to move in, Daye leapt forwards, holding her staff aloft and creating an impenetrable barrier around the duo as they rushed to Ryan’s aid. Daye focused all her energy on keeping them safe, on getting to Ryan before something terrible happened

Ryan plunged headlong through the ranks of demons separating them from Delancre. He barely offered them a glance as he cut through men he’d once served side by side with. The only thing in his world was the First Elder and vengeance. He would reach Delancre, no matter what impediment lay in his path, and he would kill the man. He owed Delancre at least one good death.

He made quick progress and finally came to a stop before the quartet of personal bodyguards flanking Delancre himself. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Ana was in a heated battle with someone. She would not be a factor here.

“If you stand aside,” Ryan hissed, “then you won’t have to die for him.”

The guards stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “We serve the Lord Delancre. We are honoured to die for him.”

“As you wish.” Ryan’s blade flew out. He battled the demons... and one by one they fell before him, until finally he faced Delancre himself.

“Nightwalker,” Delancre said softly. “You’ve proven to be such a disappointment to me.”

“I’m going to kill you now,” Ryan said flatly.

“You’re going to try,” Delancre scoffed. Ryan swung his sword, but Delancre dodged. His blue eyes darkened with rage and he began to chant rapidly in Latin. He threw out his hands and balls of black lightning flew from them, engulfing Ryan.

Her face stinging from a vicious punch that opened up the flesh on her cheek, Ana snarled at Darian and bent all her efforts towards killing him. A practised combination move had him on his knees and she drove her elbow into the back of his head, knocking him face-first into the trampled dirt. Stepping back, Ana turned her attention once more to her beleaguered Lord but paused as all the hairs on her body stood on end.

“You’re a fool, you’ll strike your allies as well as me,” she said calmly, regarding the slowly rising Darian who continued to gather energy to himself. The actinic smell of a storm intensified, and Darian’s fingertips crackled.

*Dammit, I can’t risk it,* he cursed internally, noting the truth of the Slayer’s words. A blast of electricity was bound to hit more than just the girl, and he couldn’t risk hitting any of the Ghosts, or even worse, a White Hat.

“Guess it’s your lucky day,” Darian muttered, as the elemental energy grounded into the earth.

“Then you are weak as well as foolish. I’m worth more than all your pathetic friends added together. A good soldier wouldn’t have balked at sacrificing some of his forces to take out such a strategic piece.”

A jab followed by an uppercut sent Darian reeling, and Ana swept his feet out from beneath him. Standing beside his supine body, she sneered down at him. “Weak and foolish – you don’t deserve to live.”

Her boot impacted the side of his head once, then twice, and Darian saw stars before passing out. Ana continued to pummel his non-responsive form for a moment or two, then abruptly turned, wiping Darian from her mind as she scanned for her master. There… now engaged combat with Nightwalker. She had to reach him, fast.

The beast wore a cloud of sulphurous smoke that hung in the air. Oz gagged as he flew through it to avoid the grasp of the monster’s huge hands. Its enormous bullwhip sliced through the air with unholy speed and Oz felt it burn across his legs as he barely managed to avoid being captured by it. Oz was more manoeuvrable than the burning behemoth but he was not as fast. The thing’s huge leathery wings propelled it with more force through the air. Oz could avoid it until he tired but then the beast would catch him – and likely consume him.

Alice moved along the field of demons, shooting some and knifing any that crossed her path. She assessed her situation. Demons, mages, witches and Ghosts were fighting on all sides. Alice looked up the canyon wall and focused her gaze on two figures fighting over the battle in a fiery dance.

“Oh my,” Alice said, recognizing them both: the angel and the mages’ pet. “That’s not going to go well.”

Alice levelled her gun at blasted a few shots into the flying beast with no effect. “I need a bigger gun,” she muttered. She looked around to see a three-man squad of Ghosts carrying a LAW rocket system. *Perfect!*

Alice worked her way over to them, taking down two demons that had engaged them. “I need that LAW, trooper,” she ordered. The men, unable to identify Alice, aimed their sidearms at her. “You boys should not play with toys you can’t use,” she said. With no other warning she disarmed them faster than they could even think, leaving them moaning on the ground in pain.

Alice grabbed the LAW and tried to target the flying demon. *This is going to make a mess,* she mused. Alice snapped the arming cover into place and pressed the activation trigger, the targeting square surrounding Oz and the beast. The rocket had no recoil but streaked smoothly into the sky with a FWOOSH.

Oz felt rather than heard the rocket rise from the earth and rolled aside as he felt the heat of the propellant drive past him and into the fiery demon. The impact made the demon’s molten innards explode like a volcanic eruption. Burning sulphurous flesh rained down from the sky in vile smelly chunks.

The force of the exploding rocket and the erupting Balrog pounded Oz from the sky and drove him into the trees. Branches broke beneath his back and slowed his descent painfully.

Reah spun, blades flashing in the moonlight, a deadly knife in the dark as she hacked down her opponents hand to hand.

Hemmed in by a fresh challenge, she suffered a savage blow that cracked the side of her skull, opening up a large gash as she stumbled to the ground on hands and knees. She couldn’t so much see, but more felt the damage behind her blizzarding vision that gradually repaired and refocused itself, flickering in and out like a television with bad reception.

Cursing, Reah shook off the fuzzy feeling that made her want to sick up then darted her gaze about in a sudden panic - why wasn’t the shit being kicked out of her? Spotting Ashralin who’d apparently seen and taken up her fight she relaxed, heaving a sigh to catch a small breather while she could.

Lifting a hand up to smear back the warm blood that coursed generously down the left side of her head and pooled in her ear, Reah gazed up into the smoky night sky and frowned at the angel that fell from the sky, blasted back into the trees by some explosion. It looked like… was that the aqueduct guy? Oz?

Crouching on her knees, Reah pushed unnecessary thinking from her mind and centred her focus once more. Reaching over her left shoulder, she smoothly unsheathed her vibro sword and slowly rose back up to her feet. Rest time was over.

Onyx was at the apex of the triangle that surrounded Marcus. Her spear flashed back and forth, ripping and tearing at demonic flesh, leaving corpses in her wake. As each fell it rose again under Marcus’ control to take its place in the ranks surrounding him. Energy bolts from Delancre’s remaining magicians fell amongst Marcus’ force but though they maimed and wounded the zombies they did not sever the necromancer’s control. The black staff in his hands whined as Marcus drew power from it and he smoothed over the wounds that the bolts had inflicted. As long as the staff’s power held out his army was virtually invulnerable.

“Don’t blame it on the sunshine, hm-hm-di-hm-di-hmm di, don’t blame it on the gooood times, blame it on the boogie…. Oh I sai-”

Somewhere in the high up trees, swinging above the speeding vehicle of his appointed ‘team’, Ruarik grumbled and paused, swinging the rifle round his shoulder and picking off a few more threats, he briefly pondered picking off the infuriating driver and her incessant singing.

“SHUT UP!” They were in battle! He shouldn’t be able to hear cheerful singing over rattling guns and blood curdling screams.

ASHRALIN! HAKIN’LA YEN!

Kala, Ruarik.

Ruarik spat and swung the rifle back over his shoulder to leap and drop lower till he was on the ground sprinting alongside the jeep. His stupid brother didn’t understand the insufferable idiocy of these creatures he was stuck with. Who cared if their jeep had already blown up and they were apparently having it harder than him? This was torture!

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

Elaine cut short and blinked at Ruarik, utterly appalled. The squeak of the windscreen wipers over raging battle distracted her attention briefly, but she was quick to turn away again as a fresh splattering of deep red smeared over it. “Uch, this is-”

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” Ruarik cried and leapt around a tree as the jeep swerved insanely to avoid collision only to run over a field of multiple bodies that had the other passengers struggling to stay on. Steve all but threw himself on the mounted machine gun to keep from going overboard while Damien tried the whole stop, drop and hopefully-not-roll-off-the-back technique. Cursing inwardly, Ruarik darted back up the trees without losing pace with the jeep before the stupid bint managed to run him over.

“Steve! I can’t work under these conditions!” Elaine cried back over her shoulder to the not-so-ancient-evil.

“Hold on, Elaine. Damien: if you could do something, that’d be great!” Steve suddenly paused while Elaine made an unseen face that spoke volumes of concern. “Um… actually-”

“Ignicyay!”

BANG

Ruarik could only stare as his so called team’s engine spontaneously blew out and the group crashed head on into a rock face. Then the small party of three managed to scramble out only just in time before the entire vehicle exploded in a burst of fire and shrapnel that cut through everything within close range. He was truly speechless.

The details of the larger battle around her were lost in a blur as Tash concentrated on not dying today. Some of her zombies had fallen, but many still remained. Some of them ringed her, protecting her from the remnants of Ana’s battalion, which now numbered more like a company. *Still too many.*

Her headset crackled constantly with voices calling out information, pleading for assistance, warning of unexpected troop movements. She’d heard the Watchers reporting that they’d gone over the ridge with the gypsy girl, and met some heavy resistance. She’d seen Darian go down, she’d seen Oz falling from the sky in a sheet of flame, but she had no time to worry about their fates. All she could do was keep hacking at the demon bodies that presented themselves before her, her gun long since spent of ammunition.

Slice, whirl, parry, thump. Through the haze of battle, Tash caught sight of a familiar form and stiffened… then noticed that Alice was fighting against the demon soldiers. Their eyes locked for a second, and Alice downed three more demons in her path. Two of Tash’s zombies turned from the soldiers they’d just dealt with to face Alice, but Tash barked an order. “Not her, keep fighting the others.”

Obediently, the zombies focused on the other threats around them, and Tash ducked beneath a curved blade that whooshed over her head before straightening to regard Alice.

“You know, you never fooled me for a sec...” Alice winked, before whirling to disembowel a Fr’nath demon.

“Yeah, which part?”

“Remind me to shoot Reah later.”

“You got better, didn’t you? You can’t blame her - I’d have shot you myself if I’d had the chance.”

A beat passed, then Tash grinned. “Good to have you back.”

Conversation ceased for a moment as both women concentrated on the fight at hand, but each moment saw more and more demons fall. Tash shuddered as one of Marcus’ wraiths swept by, the demons it felled rising soon afterwards to swell the ranks of the undead fighting for the good guys. Battling on resolutely, Tash reaffirmed her vow to let the zombies she controlled go to their rest as soon as they were done here.

Ana had only taken a step away from the fallen body of Darian when another opponent came before her. Her eyes narrowed and she stopped. A voice in her head screamed at her to continue towards Lord Delancre, but another screamed equally loudly that she had to stay and kill the wretch that stood before her. Another traitor.

Kyle grinned wickedly around blood-encrusted, dry lips. His face was covered with grime and blood. The battle had devolved into hack, slash, parry, duck, hack again. There was no room for finesse, no time for fancy moves. It was like a huge street fight or bar room brawl, and if there was one thing Kyle knew, it was street fighting. Despite his grievous injuries, Kyle’s fire still burned strong, fuelled by his thirst for vengeance and, now, determination.

He had lost his axe and his knives, even lost the gun a dying Ghost had given him. He’d lost track of the number of demon-soldiers he’d put down after reaching fifty-something within the first few, brutal minutes, and he’d lost a lot of blood. Only Darian and Reah had given him more of a beating than he’d taken today, but not by much. He was exhausted and felt like hell.

Still, at the same time, he felt good. This time he was getting a beating in the act of screwing somebody who had screwed him. Oh, yeah… it felt damn good.

Then he had spotted the Slayer. He remembered how Ana had treated him. He had seen Darian get there first, saw her put Darian down. Now it was his turn.

The two stared each other down, the maelstrom of fighting swirling around them like they were in the eye of a great storm. Ana took a step forward, but as she did so a dying Demon Policeman grabbed at her leg, pulling her to the ground.

Ana spun on the ground, lashing out with a foot that snapped the dying man’s neck, but before she could gather herself Kyle was on her, one arm pinning her down, the other pummelling her mercilessly, his mocking, hoarse voice screeching in her ear.

“Hi, remember me? Yeah, I’m Kyle. The Kaoshian. Surely you remember me?”

Thwack! Before Ana could respond he dealt her a right-hook that cracked across her chin. “How ’bout now?”

Thwack! Another punch, this one smashing into her nose. “Wow, we’re really bonding here…”

Thwack! For the third time, a fist slammed into Ana’s face. “Not so tough now, are we?”

The Slayer had to admit, Kyle’s Kaoshian form was a significant martial improvement over his human form, but he was wounded and a mere demon. She, the Vampire Slayer, despite having fought Darian and countless others this day, was only just getting into the swing of it.

With little effort, Ana tossed Kyle off her. They both rose to their feet dazedly, her from the blows and he from hitting the ground, and at the same time.

Kyle cracked his knuckles. This was going to hurt, no doubt about it. But it was going to feel so good. No comments passed between them – the time for talking was long over and they both knew it.

The two threw themselves at each other with reckless abandon and no concern for their own personal safety. Both put everything they had into attack, smashing hard blows into each other that left them both battered, though Kyle was coming away increasingly bloody each time despite putting up a fierce fight that was impressing Ana somewhat. The Kaoshian knew he couldn’t win, couldn’t hope to overcome the Slayer herself, but there was no way he was backing down now. No, he was going to see this to the finish, even if that finish was death.

A deadly uppercut knocked Kyle onto his back, and as he hit the ground he felt an object at the small of his back press against him. Oh, yes. He had forgotten about that. Covering himself as he rose to his feet, he slipped the object into his sleeve.

Alessa had moved through the demonic forces, making her way towards the group surrounding Delancre. The demon police were still holding at her back although she didn’t want to think how many had been killed so far. She moved steadily, her short sword making arcs in the air, but her arm was tired and there were many wounds in her body. Her left leg had suffered a nasty cut and she was limping a little; she was beginning to feel afraid she wouldn’t make it.

A spiteful looking green demon faced her suddenly and she stopped short in her tracks, but when she looked up she had to smile. “Now, come here con mamá,” she said, and charged, plunging her sword into the demon’s stomach. As it bent over, Alessa put her hand over the oozing wound, letting her fur soak in the demon’s blood. Then she raised her left arm and broke the glowing red jewel on its forehead with the pommel of her sword. She smiled as the fierce light shone and the demon disappeared in front of her, her hand gently rubbing the healing blood on the wound in her leg.

“Morla’s blood,” she whispered, “just what I needed.”

The soft thuds of Polina’s sneakers bounced off the dirt of the canyon as she walked side by side with whom she ‘affectionately’ referred to as the ‘stiffs from England’. In actual truth, they were what were left of the decent Watchers of the Watchers’ Council. They had taken her into their group after dealing with the bulk of the forces they’d been despatched to stop, and now were picking off the drifting troops of Delancre.

The young gypsy squeezed her weapon, an old Japanese samurai sword at which she stole from a pawn shop a few days before, much to the displeasure of Adriana. True, she had knives hiding under her black Dickies jacket’s sleeves, but those were for cases of emergency.

WHACK

Polina felt her body hit the dirt as a bump on her head began to throb. She rolled onto her back to see a demon standing above her. Her eyes flickered over to the Watchers. It seemed that they had hit a waiting squad. She drew a heavy breath, only to roll away from her spot in order to avoid the large foot of a demon to crash down into her already broken ribs. Struggling, Lina returned to her feet, positioning herself in a fighting position. Both hands tightened on hilt of the sword as the demon charged at her. Stepping forward, the edge of the blade went into the right arm of the demon, its method of defence.

Unaffected, the demon thrust its arm away, sending Polina into a tree. An expression of pain formed on her face, as her right hand was raised to hold her head. *Goddammit!* she thought angrily, using the sword as a pedestal to hold her up.

Snapping back into reality, Polina dodged away from the tree as the demon punched its large fist through it. Lina shot up from her position on the ground, much like that of a gymnast. She felt a sharp pain from her broken ribs, and managed to only wince at it. *Last time I’m ever fighting with something broken.*

Thinking quickly, Polina kept one hand on her sword. Turning around, she did a truly gymnastic back flip. Landing on her feet, she swung the sword at the demon, nailing it in its shoulder. It let out a small cry; this time, the cut had gone deeper than the one on the demon’s forearm. Seizing the opportunity, she quickly lifted her leg and brought a swift kick to its head, causing the demon to lose some of its stance. Polina smiled. *Thank you, Kill Bill!*

Before her confidence could rise any further, the demon charged back, his arm bashing into her broken ribs and sending her a good twenty feet away. Polina’s small body hit a small clump of dirt, as she let out an agonizing yelp of pain.

Kyle spun with a blow that felt like it came from a bus, twirling through the air and almost too dazed to bring his own fist up for the counter-blow. It smacked Ana in the cheek and staggered her a little, but it was clear the punch was nothing like what Kyle had taken. The Kaoshian pressed on, using everything he had, every trick in his book. The Slayer responded with the same, and the two continued to pummel each other into bloody masses. Meanwhile all around them the battle continued to rage fiercely, swirling around them yet keeping a distance as if they were within the eye of a storm.

Ana cracked one of Kyle’s ribs just as he broke her nose, then grabbed a punch just before it hit and snapped his wrist. The Kaoshian’s response was swift; he brought his damaged wrist out of her grasp and wrapped his tail around her throat. Ana laughed as she choked from both the tail and the smoke from the fire on the end of it, ignoring the flame and putting both hands on the tail. She twisted in opposite directions and Kyle let out a cry of pain, releasing his grip and returning to fiery punches and kicks.

The sleeve of the Slayer’s top suddenly caught alight, and a blaze of fire ripped up it. Kyle’s eyes lit as the flame burnt her arm, but Ana simply tore the sleeve off and hurled it aside, ignoring the blackened and burnt skin underneath. She delivered a fist to his gut, then his ribs, then his face. Kyle got his own blows in, jabbing a foot into the side of her leg, upper-cutting her chin, elbowing her face. But as the fight went on the power of his blows, and his fire, diminished.

A scything foot from Ana sent him tumbling to the ground. Kyle was barely able to rise to his knees. He was dying, he knew it. The exhaustion and wounds he had taken during the fight had finally caught up with him. His fire was merely sputtering now, not the blazing inferno it had once been.

“You put up a good fight, Kaoshian,” Ana said, towering over him. Kyle struggled to stay conscious and keep his eyes focused; they kept threatening to roll back into his head. “Perhaps I underestimated you.” She bent to pick up an axe.

This was it, whilst Ana’s attention was divided between him and picking up the axe. Now or never.

Kyle brought the throwing star from out of his sleeve and flung it towards the Slayer. His aim was true, and the whirling palm-sized blade hurtled straight towards her neck.

In a flash of movement almost faster than the eye could follow, and certainly faster than the spinning star, Ana whipped the axe up and batted the weapon from the air.

Kyle sagged. His last attempt had failed. He had nothing left.

“Impressive,” the Slayer commented as she brought the axe up over her head. “You’re more devious than I thought, too. A shame you went over to the other side…”

That was it. It was over. All Kyle could see was the axe, and he knew he was dead

The Finale - Part Three

Submitted by Allyana on Mon, 09/13/2004 - 18:23.

Galen watched the battle below with a growing sense of apprehension. He could barely make out his wife apart from the occasional blast of coloured energy that lit up the battlefield in shades of green and blue. He could see demons… far too many demons, far more than the numbers Tash had hoped for. Turning towards the tall wicca who stood nearby, his glittering eyes focused on the battle below, Galen almost considered begging him to transport him down into the base of the canyon so he could do something other than watch.

The sound of breaking branches above him triggered a defensive response and Galen dove aside as a bloodied, bruised and burnt man with fiery wings plummeted from the trees onto the ground with a heavy thud. It was Oz, the supposed angel, who groaned as he sat up. Oz winced in pain as every joint and vertebra sent distressed signals to his adrenaline-charged brain.

Galen found it hard to ignore Oz’s claim in light of the wings that were flickering out even as he stood. Sam clutched Maia closer, unsure of how to perceive this recent ally, and his trustworthiness. There were so many new people to know and believe in that he felt safe trusting only his family.

Oz picked leaves from his hair as he stood. He checked his equipment, *Mostly there. I still have my sword at least.* “Where am I,” he asked, “Can I stop fighting for a moment?”

Galen dusted himself down as he stared at the… he couldn’t believe he was going to use the term but to hell with it… fallen angel. He had been more surprised than most to discover that the man really was… well whatever passed for an angel in this godless world.

“Oz,” he said briskly as he helped the man steady himself as he wandered perilously close to the edge of the ridge. Galen’s eyes scanned the battle again, his focus attracted to a handful of demons that were attempting to pierce the protective shield that surrounded the rim. *Come on you bastards, just try and get up here,* he thought to himself as his hand flew to his pistol and he took aim, tracing the demons as they tested the forcefield’s strength.

“It doesn’t look that way,” he said in answer to Oz’s question.

Oz stood shoulder to shoulder with the man who was the partner of his worst enemy. *War makes strange bedfellows,* he thought, comforted by the fact that he would be doing something worthwhile if he fell. He hoped that that memory would replace the ugliness of Christmas in the minds of his newfound friends.

“Bring it on, then,” he growled low in his throat. Every muscle in his arms ached, and the lash burns on his back and legs sent lances of pain up his spine. A single enchanted crossbow bolt flew overhead and Oz swung at it, barely missing it. Behind him he saw it bury itself to the fletching in the eye of the Sindell mage behind them.

“Shit!” Oz cursed.

The carnage was becoming too much. He just couldn’t take it any more. The temptation was there, and for a moment Nikolai wished he had a bandolier of grenades, with which to run into the heaviest fighting and set off. But the temptation passed as it had to; a man who was dead could make no attempt at all at redemption.

Those men whom Dmitri had sent with him all lay dead on the field with the exception of Jimmy, who had managed to fall back with him. Locked in combat with a demon, Nikolai watched as Jimmy cried out. Rushing forward, he brought his sword around only to watch the other man he’d worked with cry out in pain and fall. “Jimmy, hold on,” he pleaded.

“No, get back, it’s too late for me,” Jimmy replied, holding the knife in his hands.

“You can make it!”

“The hell I can! If I get up my guts are going to spill all over this field.”

Nikolai looked down at the wound. It was true. Jimmy wouldn’t survive this day; there was no chance of it at all. The bit of L’Than came up inside of him. *The merciful thing is to ease his journey,* he thought. With growing horror, he knew that the day’s butchering was not yet done.

The bright blue eyes of a young teen grew wide with horror as it fell upon the gruesome scene surrounding the Slayer. Darian’s comatose form lay motionless in the dirt, blood smeared all over his bruised face. Cole felt the colour from his own visage drain as his gaze moved slightly to the left, where the Slayer was towering victoriously over another beaten opponent, an axe held ready to fall.

*Oh God…*

Kyle’s body rocked from side to side, even though he was kneeling and it was obvious he was doing all he could to stay up and put off unconsciousness – and failing. Like Darian, his face was covered in blood and his eyes, swollen and black, were glazed over, probably unable to even see that his death was looming close. So grievous were his injuries he had been forced back into his human form.

“KYLE!!!”

The invisibility spell which had protected Cole thus far melted away as magical energy swirled uncontrollably around the teen. This was it, the moment he had dreaded since Kate had stripped him of his powers. Seeing Darian and Kyle dead, or at least about to die, was just too much. The boy cried out in a mixture of terror and ecstasy as dark magic filled his body, mind and soul, energizing him with a power he had vowed never to use again.

A sneer twisted Ana’s features and she kicked the spent Kaoshian away from her like he was nothing more than a rag doll. Keeping the axe held ready, she turned on Cole. “One more pathetic weakling, is it? They’re sending mere boys against me now? Your friends must be growing desperate. I can break you with one hand. Come on then, little boy,” Ana gestured with her free hand. “Come get me if you can.”

Not far away, Kate and Daye were still battling to get to Ryan’s side, fighting against the horde of demons that blocked their path. Kate suddenly felt a familiar chill creep across her skin, making tiny goosebumps appear on her flesh. A dark resonance echoed in her senses, one that she recognised too. Pure black magics were accumulating not far from where she and Daye fought and Kate glanced around, suddenly noticing Cole as he stood opposite the Slayer, his face filled with darkness.

*Oh no…* Kate thought grimly, struggling to see what was happening while also ploughing forwards into the surrounding demon troops towards Ryan and Delancre. Cole wasn’t ready to channel that kind of power again, the last time it had almost consumed him entirely. Kate wanted to help the boy, but she could barely make him out across the ensuing battle and besides she had to get to Ryan before Delancre killed him. She just prayed that Cole remembered everything that they had talked about, to take control of his magic instead of letting the magic control him.

“Good luck, kid,” Kate said under her breath as she fought with renewed strength, throwing herself into the thick of things once more.

The Sindell witch let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching at his impaled eye before he fell down dead, his body landing with a THUD. Sam jumped back in horror, cradling Maia protectively in his arms as he attempted to shield her from the horrific sight. Galen’s attention was still fixed on the advancing demons as the magical barrier flickered momentarily with the death of the mage and they made a sudden surge forward, clawing their way up the steep canyon.

“Damn it!” Galen cursed under his breath, glancing back at Sam. “Get back!” he ordered, sending several shots at the approaching demons. Bullets ripped through the air, pulsing with magic energies and Galen grinned as they tore through the flesh of the closest demon, sending him hurtling back down the canyon. “My special thanks to the Warrior’s Circle,” he muttered to himself, silently thanking Kate for persuading him to take the upgrade. He’d been wary of being in control of a weapon imbued with magical powers but it was certainly more effective against these supernatural soldiers.

Oz met the charge and used their high-ground advantage to push the demons back into themselves. Despite the Watchers’ superior resources these troops, no matter how well trained, were not as well equipped as the two heavily-armed defenders. Oz swung his sword with one hand, decapitating soldiers too tightly packed to dodge and he fired his machine pistol with the other, seeing the bullets rip into the tough, but ultimately mortal, troops.

But the better equipment was still not much of a match for the mass of soldiers surging like the tide against the two men. Oz stepped back again to stand next to Galen who was falling back to better defend against the rising mass of bodies piling up in front of them. Oz glanced back at Sam who was holding Maia tightly to his chest. He could see the fear in his eyes as he dodged spears and crossbows that flew past them. Clearly these troops meant to spare Maia, but they had no such qualms about her defenders.

Oz grunted at Galen, “They are after Maia; I can get her out of here. Hopefully it’ll take the fight away from you and get her safely away. Can you hold them for two seconds?”

Polina’s vision started to blur; the excruciating pains coming from her ribs were beginning to warp her mind. Whether or not she could still fight, she wasn’t certain. But she was sure she didn’t have enough energy left to move.

“Polina, you have to help them. If you help them, we’re able to get Gwen out of there…”

She rolled her eyes, wanting to ignore Adriana’s voice. *Fuck Gwen,* Polina thought, *She was a nagging bitch, anywho.*

“And if you don’t fight on my and Dom’s behalf, we’re putting your ass on the next flight to Bucharest.”

Polina groaned. *I hate you, Adriana.* With her mind made up, she slowly opened her eyes to see the demon, bringing its arm down upon her.

“Oh, shit!” she yelled, her feet flying up against the demon’s arm. It took her only a moment to realise that she had successfully defended herself. Scrunching up her face, she tucked herself in to do a backwards somersault. She shot up and groaned, her injuries screaming. Polina grabbed her sword and resumed her pose, imitating Uma Thurman.

Her breaths were becoming heavy; she looked over to her companions. Some were already down. But for the most part, they held strong. *Well, I’ll be damned; the stiffs aren’t so bad.* Immediately, her attention was brought back to the demon. Looking at the ground, an idea came to her.

She began to dig her sneaker into the dirt, creating a small, but decent, clump of dirt. As the demon began to approach, Polina’s foot shot up, sending the dirt at the demon’s eyes. It gave a groan of frustration, taking a few steps backwards. *Well, here goes nothing…*

Polina leaped towards the demon, the sword tightly in her grasp. She landed a few feet from the imposing demon, a smile on her face. Raising the sword, Polina thrust it into the demon’s heart. Immediately, it let out a cry of agony, faltering to its knees. After a few more pitiful cries, it dropped onto its face, dead. The gypsy looked at the demon, still smiling. Polina then coughed, some of her blood coming up. She wiped the blood from her lips, as she turned over the demon and pulled her sword out.

Again and again and again Reah’s blades flashed in and out of some hairy demon’s – now massacred – back who’d attacked Ashralin, knocking him to the ground with a broken arm that twisted and bent unnaturally in three different places. Pushing off the slumping corpse, Reah swiftly unsheathed and slashed across with her vibro sword, severing the head of a vampire clean off before her feet firmly planted back on the ground.

Heart pumping with adrenalin, Reah did a quick scan over the surrounding battle and cracked a crooked grin at the wearing battle scene. Skipping over to Ashralin who was painfully getting back up, clutching his mangled arm, she hovered in close and let her hand hang just short of his shoulder. “You ok?” Reah said, receiving a flat stare in return. Wincing at the deformation, Reah stared at him levelly. “Go to First Aid. My cousin’s there with a bunch of other witchy chicks. We’ve got ourselves covered here.”

“No. Am going not to leave Leont’za. I’m-”

Reah cut the demon off short, slapping a hand behind her left ear then spun around to sprint back towards Leon’s location. “Go! NOW!” Shaking her head, Reah ran back over the thinning ranks, eyes narrowing in determination. *Shit, shit, SHIT!*

A burning sensation shot through Tash’s body, and she staggered. Her zombies continued to fight, having almost completely mopped up Ana’s entire battalion, and she could see Alice some distance away taking great delight in doing her part to keep thinning their numbers. But the pain kept growing worse, and she grunted as she pulled the dagger from her side. Using one hand to staunch the flow of blood, Tash slowly sank to her knees.

A horned demon loomed large in her sights, and she did her best to lift her sword-arm to defend herself, but it felt as thought it were made from lead. Boom! The demon’s head exploded in a spray of blood and gore that spattered her from head to foot, and she looked up to see Alice grinning cheekily at her.

“You’ve gotta be more careful who you dance with, hon.”

“Heh, yeah.” Tash tried to stand, but was unable. “Um… ow… medic?”

Alice’s face grew more serious as she surveyed the blood gushing from Tash. “I’ll be right back, hon. Hang in there.”

Galen quickly surveyed the situation: a steady surge of demons were making their way up the ridge and maybe more to follow. Kate’s words came back to him, how Maia was the only thing that mattered that night, how she had to be protected at all costs. He turned to Oz and prayed that he was making the right decision here.

“Do it,” he said firmly. Galen gestured towards Sam, as he fired several more rounds into the oncoming swarm. “We have to get Maia to safety,” he said to the other man as he clutched the child possessively against his chest before reluctantly passing her over to the angel.

“Take her to my house, it’s heavily warded and my father-in-law… he’ll take care of her…” At Oz’s faithful nod, Galen took several more shots into the advancing demons. “Now, before it’s too late. GO!”

Oz dropped his gun and faded back behind Galen. Demons, sensing this was a crucial play, redoubled their efforts. Sam, for his part, handed Maia firmly into Oz’s grasp, not willing to take a chance that he might drop his precious passenger, and moved forward to do what he could to ensure her safe removal from the field. Oz’s wings exploded from his back, throwing a bright flash over the darkened skirmish. Demons leapt into the air to clutch at him but Oz beat at them with his sword as he cradled Maia safely against his broad chest.

Despite the personal battle he was embroiled in, Delancre couldn’t fail to notice the Angel leaving the field of battle... and the cargo he was carrying.

“Noooo!” he screamed over the noise of combat. “No, stop him! I need that child!!”

Oz’s flames lit the battlefield like a comet as he rocketed with all his might, demons dropping from his legs as his wings beat mightily against the hoard trying to drag him down. Demonic talons ripped huge gouges in Oz’s legs and his pants and shoes were shredded from his body as he continued to beat his wings furiously against the many hands tugging at him from below.

Sam pulled at the legs of the demons from below and Galen, forgotten in the struggle for the prize, fired surgical shots into the demons that were at the top of the pile. Slowly, glacially, Oz managed to rise a few painful inches at a time from the horde. Then a few feet of gain followed by the last hanger-on falling into the treetops as Oz soared away from Runyon Canyon and towards safety.

“God speed,” muttered Sam, exhausted.

Ebon eyes of fire locked onto the Slayer, burning with black hatred. With now augmented senses, Cole couldn’t feel Darian’s presence, and Kyle’s was only barely registering on his psychic scans.

“How could you!? How DARE you!?” the teen screamed, as his feet lifted from the ground and began to glide forward. “Everyone, they are all taken from me, YOU took them from me!”

His words were disjointed, and his thoughts unfocused. In his mind, it was not only Ana that stood before him, but an assortment of nightmares: His abusive father screaming ‘freak’ and ‘disappointment’, the ancient vampire who had come close to killing him a year prior, and the giant titan who stole his best friend. “I HATE YOU!”

With the final scream, the boy lifted his hand, and with a simple wiggle of his fingers, the axe flew from Ana’s hands and her body went rigid as he boy’s dark magic wrapped around her every muscle.

Despite herself, Ana screamed. She was well inured to pain, but this was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Every nerve ending shrieked its protest, and every slightest move she tried to make only caused her muscles to burn with renewed agony. Forcing herself into motionlessness, Ana applied her indomitable will upon herself, commanding the pain to subside until she could see and think again. She regarded Cole balefully from her invisible prison.

“You think you’ll win? Look around you, little boy. There are thousand of my troops here. Thousands.”

The sound of Ana’s threats were enough to drag Cole from his temporary hysteria, thus allowing him to centre his full concentration on the helpless Slayer. With his eyes still devoid of colour, the young boy stole a quick glance at the chaos around him.

“So your troops will cut me down, what does it matter?” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “It’s already too late for me… and for you, Ana.”

“I’m not afraid of death. But I’m not dead yet, am I? Soon you will be bowing at my Lord’s feet, begging for mercy.”

Closing his eyes, Cole ignored the Slayer and reached out into the darkest abyss, coaxing the nothingness to fill him, and in turn wash over Ana. Quietly, he began to whisper.

“Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,
From earth and soil did you come,
From earth and soil shall you return…”

The teen’s body began to tremble as the full force of the spell channelled through him. When he had tried to use the spell against Kate he had the stolen power to draw from, but now he was fuelling it on his simple anger. However, when dealing with sorcery of this calibre, pure hatred was not enough. He couldn’t control the spell properly, and he knew that by invoking the power he had doomed himself as well as Ana.

“Ashes to ashes….”

As the magic flowed freely, a black aura began to shimmer over the two teens, slowly burrowing its way into their youthful skin. Within moments, it would be over for the both of them.

The cold, clammy hand of death squeezed itself around Ana’s heart, and she strained to see what had become of Sir Ambrose in his battle with the Nightwalker. But Cole’s spell still held her immobile and she could only trust that her master had triumphed.

She spoke too softly for any to hear, her words fading even to her own ears as the darkness closed in around her. “I am sorry, my Lord. I failed you. I promise to do better next time…”

A muddied, bloody hand wrapped around Ana’s throat. From behind her, Kyle loomed up – still in human form. He gave Cole a deadly serious glance, then leaned in closer to Ana as she continued to struggle.

“Not looking one-hundred per-cent perfect now, are we?” he whispered.

Then, with a powerful motion and a sickening snap, Kyle broke the Slayer’s neck before Cole’s spell could take effect. Releasing his hold on her, the Kaoshian watched unmoved as the body tumbled to the ground.

Kate and Daye saw the whole terrible exchange between Delancre and Ryan as they fought to make their way through the hordes of demonic soldiers blocking their path. Daye screamed out Ryan’s name as strands of black electricity bonded itself to his body and he fell to his knees, his fingertips burning as the powerful energies struggled to find release, tearing at his flesh uncompromisingly.

“Abhibere!” shouted Kate loudly, directing the powerful telekinetic force towards their attackers and clearing the way again to Ryan’s side.

Daye had never felt more helpless or frustrated as she did watching Ryan flailing beneath the onslaught of Delancre’s attack. She rushed on, thankful that Kate was helping to clear the way. *Please, please, don’t let us be too late,* she silently prayed.

Delancre’s spell finally came to an end. Ryan’s flesh smoked and burned from the effects of the lightning. He struggled to his feet, determination written in every line of his body.

“Give it up, Nightwalker,” Delancre sneered. “You can’t hurt me.”

Ryan ignored Delancre’s taunts. He lifted his sword and struck. Delancre attempted to simply avoid the blow once again, but he wasn’t quite fast enough this time. Ryan’s blade connected with his shoulder, making a deep cut. Delancre screamed. His eyes darkened more, turning almost black. He roared an incantation, evoking the darkest gods.

Breaking free from the crowds, Kate focused her powers on Delancre as he began his incantation, the ancient Sumerian dialect tumbling from his mouth like a man possessed. A cold breeze entered the small clearing, picking up dust and dried leaves and spinning them around in tiny cyclones. Upon the ridge seven pairs of glowing white eyes turned towards the man and Kate extended her arms in Delancre’s direction, her own eyes shining with a gleaming white brilliance. As she opened her mouth several voices all spoke in unison…

“We are light, we are ones too strong to fight,
United in this hour, with the magic of good we invoke
Rend this evil from its power
End his reign in eternal smoke!”

Angelic light poured forth, counteracting the evil that spewed from Delancre’s powerful spell. The seven witches increased their strength, pouring more and more energy into Kate until she felt like she might pass out from the pain. The force of the spell had Delancre on his knees, struggling to fend off the attack. Kate gritted her teeth, biting into her lower lip so hard that blood rolled down her chin. A throbbing spasm cut through the back of her skull like a knife, tearing at her consciousness until she slumped to the ground.

Daye paused as Kate cried out and fell to the ground. They were nearly to the raised rock where Ryan and Delancre fought. Daye looked down at Kate and then back to where Delancre was struggling from the counterattack. She hesitated, but then made her decision. Delancre would recover and Ryan was still in danger.

Planting her staff firmly in the ground beside where Kate lay, Daye focused, making sure that the protective field was locked about Kate’s supine body. “Kate,” she bent and spoke to her friend, “Ryan needs me right now. I don’t want to leave you, but Delancre is not going to be down for long.”

“Go,” whispered Kate, swallowing hard as she fought the tide against a wave of sickness rippling through her body. She could taste blood in her mouth as it flowed from her nose in a thick stream and hear a ringing sounded in her ears. She felt as weak as a kitten but slowly… gradually… things began to join back together as she became more aware. Kate opened her eyes, still filled with blank whiteness. Daye looked hesitant and worried and Kate used her staff to help her sit.

“What are you still doing here?” she said with a somewhat weakened smile, wiping the blood from her face. “Go!” she said urgently, “he needs you.”

Daye gave Kate one last regretful look and then turned back to Ryan. Delancre was on his knees, struggling to get up. Ryan stood over him, sword raised.

“Die, you bastard, just die!” Ryan screamed. He started to bring the sword down on the First Elder.

From her vantage point, just a few feet away, with one demon still between her and them, Daye saw Ryan raise his weapon. Then she saw Delancre pull something from his belt. Realisation dawned on her as he moved suddenly, with impossible speed. As Ryan swung down, Delancre came up, the knife clutched in his hand sinking into Ryan’s abdomen. Delancre was on his feet in a moment, the blade rising, tearing Ryan apart. He dropped the demon’s body to the ground with a satisfied sneer.

Daye screamed. She had no idea how she managed to get past the demon before her, but suddenly she was kneeling beside Ryan where he lay, his blood seeping out onto the cold rock. She reached out, her hands shaking as she tried to staunch the flow. She drew on her inner reserve and prepared to try and heal him.

Kate hung on to Daye’s staff as she pulled herself up to her feet. Even though she still felt incredibly weak, every passing minute filled her with renewed energy and she silently thanked the mages on the rim of the canyon as little by little they fed her with the surrounding energies. Kate used the staff to help her move more quickly as she stumbled towards where Daye crouched next to Ryan.

Her heart was beating furiously as she knelt opposite Daye, looking down at the bloody mess that encircled the fallen demon. A wash of memories flooded Kate as she knelt there – over two years ago she had sat by Luc’s side in the middle of battle, holding his bloody body as he died in her arms. Those dim memories that had once burned so vividly in her mind replayed before her now. Ryan barely breathed, his body jerking from the effort of each laboured attempt to draw air and Kate looked into his face, a face that was resigned to his fate as Luc’s had been.

Despite that sense of peaceful acquiescence, Kate joined her hands with Daye’s, wincing at the pain that filled her head as she tried to concentrate, combining their focus to heal the brave warrior.

“Kate, please.” Tears streamed down Daye’s face as she held both hands over Ryan’s wound. She didn’t allow herself to think about the warm, wet mess she was touching, about what exactly it was. “I can’t… I don’t have the power… Oh, Kate, he’s… he’s dying. Please…”

Daye’s pleading words filled Kate with anxiety. She knew Ryan was dying, she could feel him slipping away and yet she was so weak… even that small amount of healing had almost drained the energy that the mages had replenished her with.

“I… I can’t,” she stammered, her own tears welling up with futility as she tried again to direct the healing power into Ryan’s body. She looked upon his face, covered in sweat, grime and dried demon blood. He moaned faintly, his hand reaching out to gently graze Daye’s ankle.

“Don’t…” said Kate softly, sensing his resolve. She didn’t want any more death, she’d been witness to enough. She joined her hands with Daye’s again and focused, closing her eyes against the pain, fighting through it as she drew out every last ounce of energy that abided within. “Live…” she whispered gently but firmly, “live…”

“Daye...” Ryan’s voice was barely audible as he reached blindly for her. Daye bent closer, her hands still over him, still trying to heal. “Daye... please...”

Daye looked up at him, at his face. She could see it in his eyes. He was ready to die, ready to let go. “No! Ryan, no,” she said. “I’m not ready. I don’t want you to go. Help me... please. Fight...”

“No… no more...” Ryan’s hand still reached out and Daye moved in closer too. He touched her face, gently. His eyes focused on her. “Love you... Daye... love you…”

Daye shook her head as if she could deny the truth simply by refusing to accept it. “Ryan, no...”

Ryan’s hand brushed her cheek gently once more and his body shook with a last breath. Finally, his eyes glazed over and his hand fell back to the ground. Daye stared at him mutely, unable to believe that he was gone.

Kate carefully reached out and closed Ryan’s eyelids, looking back up at Daye she placed her hand on her shoulder gently. “He’s gone,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Daye.”

Daye nodded. She wanted to fall into Kate’s embrace and cry for all the loss, all the unfairness of it. She wanted to curl up into a ball and just wallow, but they were still surrounded on all sides by friends and allies fighting for their lives. Daye slowly got to her feet and reached for the staff Kate had set down beside her on the ground. She was covered in blood, her hands and body a mess. Pushing her grief down deep inside, she extended a hand towards Kate.

“Come on,” her voice was flat. “This isn’t over yet.”

A brief gust of wind whipped past Cole as Ana’s untimely death interrupted the flow of his dark magic. With no life force left in the Slayer’s body, there was nothing to feed the ghastly spell.

“Wha… What’s happened?” the teen growled angrily, moving his gaze to where Kyle stood. “You? You stole what was mine! The Slayer’s death, it should have been me!”

Muttering a simple incantation, Cole waved his hand, causing the Kaoshian to fly forwards and halt abruptly in front of him. He would make this little fire fly pay for interfering.

But why?

Kyle hadn’t done anything. In fact he had saved Cole from certain death by murdering Ana first. Kyle didn’t deserve his wrath, he was a friend. *But he robbed me of Ana’s death.*

Cole’s eyes began to squint as the forces of his being wrestled for control. The magic he had raised demanded some means of release, yet he couldn’t turn them on Kyle, he wouldn’t.

Kyle didn’t really have it in him to try and struggle against Cole’s magic, but he still stubbornly tried anyway. *I’ve got to stop helping people,* he chided himself.

“Oh, yeah, ’cause you’re really emotionally stable enough to deal with murder. Didn’t you tell me something a while back about dark magic like that being bad and dangerous and all?” He let the question sink in. “Now damned well put me down. We’re in the middle of a battle, remember? And I think I’m about to fall unconscious…”

The younger boy remained motionless as his empty black orbs fixed on Kyle’s face. Noting the emotionless look Cole wore, Kyle was sure it was the end for him; the kid was just too far gone. Surprisingly enough, Cole did not move to finish him and in fact, a moment later, the natural white and blue began to return to his confused and fearful eyes. Kyle’s words, although harsh, evoked memories of their brief friendship and acted as an emotional anchor for Cole to hold on to. Unknowingly, the demon had saved him again.

“Kyle?” Cole whispered weakly, as if seeing the carnage around him for the first time.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Kyle responded, nervously glancing around. “Look, I’m a mess and you’re a wreck so drop me quick or…”

The younger boy complied, allowing Kyle free will of his movement – which might not have been the best idea. No longer having the spell to keep him upright, Kyle realised how much energy it took just to remain standing, energy he no longer had. Wavering, the Kaoshian began to fall forwards but luckily Cole moved quickly, grabbing hold of Kyle’s arm and slinging it over his shoulder to keep him upright.

“You’re badly hurt,” Cole commented nervously, feeling warm blood trickle from his friend’s face down onto his hand.

Kyle did not reply. Instead, his eyes narrowed as they fixed on something charging forward.

Delancre slid away as soon as the Nightwalker’s body hit the ground. Amanda was far more concerned with her ex lover than she was with him. *Stupid girl,* Delancre thought, feeling for the first time since this debacle began that something had gone right. It was fitting, really. He had given the demon life and now he’d taken that life away.

Delancre moved quickly, scanning the canyon for some means of escape. It was not smart to remain here when the outcome of the battle was still so unsure. He stepped down off the tall rock and stopped abruptly. Standing before him, covered in the blood of her enemies, was a demoness he was all too familiar with.

Delancre blanched. The memory of the last time he’d seen Alessa, of the humiliation she’d heaped upon him, had the blood rushing to his face. He stared at her, unable for a moment to decide just what to do next.

Alessa’s surprise at finding herself facing her hated enemy soon melted into pleasure. She had lost track of His Highness in the fight, but now it seemed that fortune was smiling at her. Her rich cinnamon fur was matted and dark with blood and sweat, and her eyes shone red with the excitement of battle. Her mouth curved in a smile, easily distinguishable even in her demon form. She took special pleasure in her superior height and size as she looked down on him. She was ashamed at her treatment of Delancre; it seemed only fair that fate provided her with the opportunity of a clean fight with him.

“My, my, look what the wind threw at my feet,” she said tauntingly as she morphed into human again. She was weaker this way, but still she preferred to face him thus. Her aspect as human didn’t improve much. Her clothes were torn and bloody, her hair tangled, and the scratches and cuts were now openly noticeable; but the wound on her leg was completely healed and her hate for Delancre was a strengthening shot.

Delancre’s eyes widened as she shifted in front of him. He darted a glance around, seeing immediately that there was no one nearby to come to his rescue. The only other person anywhere near them was that damned necromancer, who was busy doing something to the corpses of his personal guards.

“Alessa.” Delancre’s chin came up as he spoke. He wouldn’t let her see his fear, not this time. “I suppose it’s fitting. It seems I owe you something… for your betrayal.”

Delancre raised the knife in his hand and moved closer to her, circling a bit to get his bearings. His shoulder burned from the wound that Nightwalker had inflicted, but if need be he still had his magic to fall back on.

“Oh, yes, it’s fitting, and believe me if you may, I’m sorry for playing false on you,” she answered, as she too started circling him. She had her short sword secured in her own hand, and she was already sizing him with her fighter’s eye. “It only lowered me to your level.”

Growling, Delancre charged at the demoness, knife held out before him. He swiped, but she sidestepped and he only managed a small, shallow slice to her arm as he passed. He swung around immediately and stood still, waiting for her counterattack.

Alessa detachedly watched the cut in her arm, and then raised her eyes to his. Her face creased in a feral smile; this was it. Face to face. She didn’t like the deceptive ways of Hyde-infected Alessa – this was more her style. She quietly circled Delancre, prowling, never taking her eyes from his, as the First Elder slipped into a fighter’s crouch himself. Just as Delancre was preparing to lunge towards Alessa she fell backwards, throwing her feet into his chest and sending him flying against a rock. He recovered quickly, though. A little too quickly for a human, and the demoness frowned. Seemingly the knife wasn’t his only weapon in this fight.

Alessa was strong and fast. Physically, Delancre knew he was no match for her. Even with the magic he’d used to enhance himself before the battle, he couldn’t hope to win against her demonic nature. Still, he had one more ace up his sleeve. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Delancre focused, drawing deeply from the dark reservoirs within him. He began to chant, low and steady, as he circled Alessa. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out an amulet, a blue black stone. He rubbed the stone rhythmically with his fingers as he chanted.

Suddenly a dark mist swirled from the amulet, moving out to surround Alessa. Like a fine rope, it wrapped around her and began to squeeze. The more Delancre chanted, the tighter the smoky bonds grew.

Alessa struggled for a couple of seconds, trying her bonds, but they enveloped her like a cocoon of smoke, making even breathing difficult. She felt a pang of panic, but quickly controlled herself. Unconsciously, she made herself smaller to ease the pressure and noticed that the ropy substance didn’t accommodate quickly enough to wrap her new size. She smiled ferociously to Delancre through the tendrils of smoke and changed into a snake-like demon, just letting herself drop to the ground in a curling heap while the magical bonds struggled to keep pace. The moment she felt herself free again, she resumed her form and with lightning speed snatched the blue-black stone from Delancre’s hand and threw it way out of his reach.

“It’s me who does the binding lately, querido, don’t you remember?” Alessa slurred through her teeth, mockingly, and she grabbed him by the neck with her left hand and started to draw him towards herself. But Delancre was still charged enough to take her completely by surprise in sidestepping her and in a complicated Judo hold, felling her. Her right arm bent painfully backwards with the sword now useless beneath her and his knee on her stomach, so she was unable to move as his knife pressed her throat. She struggled to free herself, but the blade pressed painfully into her skin.

“Now, no more shapeshifting tricks, my love. I gather in any form you bear your throat will still be a vulnerable spot,” he warned. His eyes were still dark with the magic he was bearing, but his hand shook and he was panting with the effort of keeping her pinned to the ground.

Alessa looked up into the eyes of her ex lover, so close they could be making love, and she shuddered at the raw longing she saw beneath his hatred. Memories of the countless times they had lain in the same position clouded Alessa’s mind, and she blushed furiously in shame of her own deception. He obviously misunderstood her agitation, for a smile of victory curved his mouth and he leant down in a brutal kiss. The pressure on her throat faltered for a second and that was all the demoness needed. She gave a shove upwards with her hips and released her trapped arm, still wielding her sword. Another powerful buckle unsaddled Delancre and sent him flying yards away from her.

“Nunca más, Delancre. Never again,” she shouted, as she jumped to her feet and cleaned her mouth with the back of her hand. Shame and hatred were making her head spin with dizziness, “I can’t stand your touch, you monstruo!”

Delancre firmed his grip on the blade, irrational in his anger now, and charged against the object of so many humiliations. His face was contorted in an unnatural grimace, more similar to the monster he had within than the cultured façade he cultivated. Looking at this fiend, Alessa could think and act more clearly. She saw that his lips were casting some other unholy spell, and her resolve strengthened. There was no time; she wouldn’t escape his magic again, not so easily.

Tash tried to focus on the blurry face before her, and blinked slowly as her brain performed its task of pattern recognition. “Inanna?”

“Shh,” the wicca hushed. “Your friend Alice found me, brought me here. I’ve performed some healing magic, so you should be able to get up soon. But you’ll be sore for a couple of days. You should take it easy…”

“But what about..? Is it over?” Tash struggled to sit up, and realised with dismay that no, it wasn’t over. Fogged senses slowly cleared and she heard the continuing sounds of battle raging around her. Finding her sword on the ground she gripped it tightly and stood, wincing only slightly at the tenderness in her side.

The area immediately around them was clear, only Inanna and a dozen or so zombies clustered around her. Inanna’s discomfiture was evident even to her non-psychic senses, and Tash grimaced. She, too, felt uncomfortable around her undead creations these days.

“I’m okay,” she said as she rose more or less unaided to her feet. “Thanks.”

Without another word, Tash lifted her sword and sought out the nearest pocket of fighting, rallying her troops to finish off the job they’d started.

Delancre lunged at Alessa, never stopping muttering as his charge became faster and faster. Inhumanly fast. She stood her ground, and just waited, balancing herself on the balls of her feet, and when he leapt towards her in a flying somersault, his knife hand aimed for a killing blow, she made her own run and jumped towards him at the last second.

They collided in mid air and Alessa slashed sideways, her blade slicing across his exposed throat. They tumbled to the ground inches from each other and Alessa turned to see Delancre stumbling on his feet, shock in his light blue eyes. His hand came up to grasp at his neck, where crimson blood blossomed and fell to the ground, a gushing river of life fleeing his body. Delancre wrapped his hands around the gaping wound and tried to stem the steady flow of blood. He stared at Alessa, his eyes pleading for… something. He seemed to want her to take it back, to make his end at her hands somehow untrue.

Delancre’s feet finally gave away beneath him and he tumbled gracelessly to the ground. Blood gurgled from his lips, which were moving, though Alessa could make out no sound. Unable to help herself, Alessa stooped down so that she was close to him. She tilted her head to catch the broken whisper as he spoke his last words.

Delancre reached out, one blood covered hand coming up to cup Alessa’s cheek tenderly. His eyes grew soft and sad. “Querida… broke my… heart. So beautiful…” Delancre sputtered and coughed, grimacing in pain. “But never mine… Never… mine.”

As the demoness bent over the First Elder, Marcus moved. He knew a mortal wound when he saw it. The mobius strip of Ta Ekteinon Osteon settled into his palm and Marcus let his magic surround Delancre, preventing his death till Marcus was ready.

Marcus crouched by Delancre’s head. The man’s breath was bubbling through the blood spilling from his throat. Without Marcus’ magic the First Elder would be dead already, but he wanted to explain to Delancre just what was coming.

“Hello Delancre.”

The mage just gurgled, while Marcus looked around the battlefield where Delancre’s forces were being systematically destroyed.

“You’ve lost,” Marcus smiled, “but I guess you’d already worked that out. You’re an egotistical bastard, you know that Delancre, and I’m not convinced that on the other side of the great divide you’ll end up with what I think you deserve rather than what you think you deserve.” Marcus let The Reaching Bone hang over Delancre.

“So I’m not going to take the chance. For everything you’ve done, for the crimes you’ve committed against the world I condemn you. I’ll take your soul, Delancre, and when Sindell are gone I’ll come back to your grave, then I’m going to bind you to your decaying corpse. Forever, Delancre. Your soul will remain on this plane forever, denied the Afterlife while you feel your body rot around you.”

Marcus let the magic preventing Delancre’s death unravel and prepared to capture the soul as it fled life. He didn’t have an Orb with him but Ta Ekteinon could do the job till Marcus returned to his hotel. “Enjoy your respite, First Elder.”

Alessa’s mouth dropped open as she heard the man’s promise to her enemy, and she looked up from Delancre’s terrified eyes to the handsome face of the necromancer. He was smiling slightly as he worked his magic, just waiting for the moment when the wounded man finally died, and she shuddered. It was a fitting ending, but then, so cruel.

The Finale - Part Four

Submitted by Logan on Mon, 09/13/2004 - 18:28.

Following Kyle’s gaze, Cole nearly froze in terror at the sight of a huge demon barrelling madly towards them. Trying to muster up any remaining strength he had, Cole released a blast of energy at the oncoming monster. The bolt crackled outwards, but it lacked any real power and only managed to stop the beast for a second.

Kyle’s eyes widened as he realized he knew the demon, or at least recognised it. It was the Grakh demon he had fought when he had first signed up with Delancre’s lot over a month ago. In their condition, there was no way even together the two could take it on, and with Kyle weighing Cole down they would even be hard pressed to run away from it.

He remembered it was fast, strong and very, very hard. And from the enraged look in the Grakh demon’s eyes, it looked like it remembered him.

“Oh, shit,” Kyle managed to utter, throwing Cole to one side and himself to the other before the beast slammed into them. Even so, he still took a hefty fist to the face that sent the world spinning amongst black spots and stars.

Staggering back to his feet, Cole saw the demon towering menacingly over Kyle. “Leave him alone!” he shouted as he charged forward; he may not have magic left, but there was no way he would stand by and watch as the monster tore Kyle apart.

“Stupid child!” The Grakh turned its attention to Cole, easily swatting the annoyance away. “I’ll kill both of you!” the demon roared before unexpectedly bursting into flames.

As the large body turned to ash and fell away, a new form could be seen in back of where Grakh had been standing, his eyes glowing with awesome power.

“Seems like you boys could use a hand.” Blake smiled as he moved forward, picking up both teens by the arms and practically dragging them over to where Darian was still motionless on the ground. “Don’t move. You’ll be safe here, I promise.”

Chanting softly, Blake conjured a brilliant shield of blue energy. “Just stay inside the spell and you’ll be fine. As for me,” he said, stepping through the barrier, “I have some more arse kicking to do.”

On the ground, Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he watched Blake move off. “Fucking show off,” he rasped weakly. “I could have handled it… Get me up on my feet, Cole, and I’ll show that damned Redcoat some ass-kicking…” Even without help he tried a few times, unsuccessfully, to get up and stay on his feet.

The boy did not even hear Kyle; his full attention was on the bloody body that lay before him. Cole stared in horror as he frantically searched Darian for a pulse, a sign of breathing… anything that would show he was alive. Cole ripped a piece of material from his shirt and used it to wipe away the blood and dirt from the man’s face. Never had he noticed just how young Darian looked. To him, the fae had always just seemed older, wiser, stronger, fearless… invincible. But now, as he lay unmoving in the dirt, Cole noticed for the first time that Darian looked only a few years older than he – definitely too young to be a casualty in this war.

“No, no, no, no,” he kept repeating as he sank to his knees, tears beginning to flow from his eyes. “Come on, you can’t be dead, you can’t.”

Nikolai tried his best to make his way through the fighting and reach the centre. So many people… but still, he had to fight on and try to reach the relative safety of allied lines. It was only by a miracle that he had survived this long, and by another that he and one of the allied demons stopped short of killing each other in the middle of the battle.

With the greatest effort, he at last found himself among the relative safety of demons on his side. Nikolai fell to his knees, breathing heavily as he made his way into the lines. Maybe, just maybe, he could at last rest.

Galen bounded down the last few metres of the canyon, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt as he half ran, half slid down into the canyon. There was no way he was staying up on the ridge when there was still a battle to fight. His eyes adjusted to the low level of light as he dodged a couple of attacks while trying to figure out where Kate was. Blood trickled down his forehead and he wiped it back irritably, his eyes squinting to make out the last remaining warriors.

Across the way he suddenly saw a flash of metal and heard the familiar, aggressive grunt of a female. Kate and Daye stood side by side, looking rather dishevelled and covered in blood and… other things. He didn’t really want to know what they were right now. Kate hacked and hewed her way through any of the demon soldiers that were stupid enough not to have retreated while Daye levied her staff and took as many wide swipes and jabs as possible, considering how exhausted she appeared.

As the final demon disintegrated into ash, Galen grabbed hold of Kate by the wrist as she headed off towards another group of persistent soldiers.

“Kate, stop…” he said urgently, yanking her back hard. He gestured across the battleground, across the remains of the wholesale carnage that had taken place to where Alessa and Marcus Dalton hovered above the lifeless corpse of Ambrose Delancre.

“It’s over,” she said with an exhausted sigh, the Axe of Rama falling from her bloody hands.

Daye watched Alessa and Marcus, her heart pounding deep within her breast. Her eyes darted around the canyon as people still continued to fight, their pain-filled cries filling the air. “No… no…” she said in determination, “it’s over now, it’s over!”

She marched over to where Galen stood, holding Kate in his arms and wrenched his gun from his hand before he had a chance to stop her. Daye took the heavy pistol in both her hands, holding it high above her head and firing several shots into the air, the short, sharp explosions echoing loudly in the canyon. Those who were still fighting stopped in mid-battle as Daye scrambled her way to the rocky ledge where Ryan’s corpse still lay.

“Your Lord is dead,” she shouted at the top of her lungs, pointing to where Delancre had fallen. “This war is over… do you hear me? It’s OVER! You can continue to fight here or you can walk away and be free. You remember what it meant to be free? To be in control of your own thoughts, your own actions? If you stop now there’s still a chance… you don’t have to die here tonight.”

A cacophony of howls, shrieks and shouts filled the air, conveying a mixture of anguish and derision from the decimated troops. Some loped off immediately, dozens of demonic shapes disappearing over the ridges as they scattered to the four winds. Others, however, merely gripped their weapons more tightly and hewed into their enemies with even greater ferocity than before.

The whump of rockets resounded as Monk ordered his men to fire into a platoon of soldiers that had banded together and were charging the rise where Daye still stood. Body parts showered the lower half of the canyon, and those at the rear of the charge faltered, uncertain in the face of their rapidly dwindling numbers.

Shouts sounded from beyond the ridge, as the Watchers found themselves fighting with renewed vigour against an enemy that was losing its zeal. The Demon Police, all but annihilated, found there was nobody left to battle. Delancre’s elite guard had been completely wiped out, and those closest to the centre were now fighting to retreat.

Tash looked around to find that maybe only half of her zombies remained, but that they were now attacking a smaller and smaller group as the last holdouts of the demon army succumbed to what were now superior numbers. She left them to it, picking her way down the rocky slope to join her friends at the centre of the fray. She was caked from head to toe in gore, as were the rest of the White Hats who were beginning to gather around Alessa, Daye and Kate, and Ambrose Delancre’s corpse.

Dust swirled around Reah’s boots as they crunched tiredly across the canyon floor towards a shadowed patch behind a tree. The night air was cold and still, the leaves of the branches held undisturbed as a grim glance about her surroundings showed the devastation that had only just taken place; thousands upon thousands of bodies and limbs piled high, filling the air with an offensive stench that burned and stuck to the inside of her nostrils.

Descending the shallow stoop in the land, Reah paused at the sight of the large, motionless body at U’lin’s feet, her back stiffening before she continued to step up solemnly beside the billy demon to gaze at the corpse at her feet. He needn’t have suffered like this. She could have done something. Should have.

Emerging from the opposite side of the small gathering, Ashralin limped up out of the blackened landscape and winced at the massive body. Crouching shakily behind Leont’za’s form, he placed a steady hand over the hollow sockets of his dear friend’s melted eyes and bowed his head, fingers to brow.

Ellis extended his senses to cover as much ground as possible, trying to get any sense of Alessa. The feedback coming into him was deafening, although not as much as at the beginning of the battle. There were many assorted supernatural beings still around, including the good guys, and his senses weren’t yet fully recovered. He looked around in desperation; it wasn’t trying to find a needle in a regular haystack, it was trying to find a needle in a haystack the size of Wales.

Then, suddenly, he could sense Alessa. He could feel her emotions rippling out like a beacon of light, not too far from him. Thank God she was alive. Smiling, he started to move towards her. He found her with a group of White Hats – she was kneeling beside Delancre’s dead body. He could feel her shock, still coming in ripples from her body, and he realised that she had killed the man. *Good for you, love,* he thought, as he approached the ghoulish group.

“Is everyone okay?” Tash asked anxiously. “Is everyone here?” She dreaded to think how many they may have lost – and who. Scanning the group, she couldn’t see Oz, Kyle or Darian, and feared that they were buried under piles of demon corpses somewhere. There were certainly enough of those, she noted with a grimace as she surveyed the devastation surrounding them.

“We need to start searching for survivors,” Tash added, her inspection bringing her back around to face her friends and allies who’d gathered.

As the group dispersed to begin the search, Daye turned to look at Galen, blinking slightly in confusion. “But I thought…” she said, panic rising into her throat, “Maia…”

“She’s safe,” said Galen quickly, glancing at an equally worried Kate as she hung onto his arm for support, clearly exhausted. “Oz… he took her to our place, you can pick her up on the way back. She’s perfectly fine, Daye. Don’t worry.”

Scrambling over dead and dying demon bodies, Tash searched her assigned area looking for any of her allies that might still be alive. Most she found were not. At one point in her search she stopped. For a long moment she stared down at the lifeless body of Ana Graziani and mourned for the girl she might have been, had Delancre not twisted her into a warped parody of what the Slayers were meant to be.

Tash forced her trembling limbs to go on, fighting off the weariness that threatened to engulf her. She’d reported the locations of all the wounded she’d found and had heard the reports of the others through her headset, but no one had seen their missing friends. Then she heard a noise up ahead and, clutching her knife firmly, advanced carefully on what might be friend – or might be foe.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched Cole kneeling over a body on the ground. Tash could only assume it was Darian. *Oh, no…* Though she wanted to move forward to comfort the boy, instinct told her he needed a few moments alone first.

Gently clutching onto Darian’s hand, Cole burst out into sobs. His body began to shake under the rising pressure of his grief, and he was sure his body would probably pass out at any moment – but then he felt something. At first, there was a slight pressure in his hand, so light it was barely noticeable. But it began to grow in strength until Cole was finally sure what he was feeling was real.

Although he was unable to move, Darian could feel something warm on his hand. *I guess I’m not dead,* he thought in surprise, as he forced his hand to grip whatever it was. *A hand?* There was no mistaking it, someone was definitely grasping on to his hand.

Cole’s tears halted for a moment as a slight cough escaped Darian’s lips; he was alive! “Oh God, Darian,” Cole sighed with relief as the tears returned, but this time for a different reason.

“Hey,” the fae mumbled, opening his eyes to see Cole’s tiny frame kneeling over him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

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