NationStates Jolt Archive

Lights faded in an out as she stared up at the ceiling of the hallway as she was rolled on a stretcher, strapped down so tightly that it was cutting off her circulation. There was an oxygen mask over her pale pink lips, which had been stained red from the blood dripping from the large gash on her right cheek. Her eyes were dilated and none responsive to the gestures made in front of her face. Bloodied feathers continued to fall from her right side; they were dark, grey. Her right wing was completely obliterated save for some bones, skin, and feathers still remaining. She could hear voices around her, but could not decipher any of them. This place was foreign, and so was their language. Her medium-length dark hair was pulled back from her face and away from the cuts. She blinked several times, her crimson eyes failing to focus. She couldn’t move her head or any of her limbs for that matter. She could just let the pain surge through her body and try to control it, as she was taught.

Even as the stretcher was pulled quickly through the halls of the hospital, the woman strapped down to it attracted more attention than anyone would have liked. The orderlies pulling it as fast as they could knew not to worry about the doctors' work, but the doctors themselves were mystified by what exactly it was in front of them.

"Can you hear me?" One of the doctors shouted, staring down at her face even as he ran along beside her. There was no response, and he swore under his breath as he turned his attention towards getting her into a room. The orderlies turned the stretcher quickly, one of them shoving open the door in front of them and pulling her as fast as they could into the room. Inside was a janitor mopping the floor, but the room was otherwise empty. The doctor rushed ahead, shouting at the janitor to get out. He hurriedly complied.

Even as the orderlies managed to unload her onto the operating table, the doctor rushed to close the blinds on the room's surrounding windows, and the emergency room doctors ran in, and stopped dead at what was in front of them.

"What the fuck is that?" were the first words uttered, even as the doctors took up their positions around the bed that she lay on.

"Scalpel."

It was the last word the first doctor heard before he was ushered out the door to leave the emergency surgeons to their work. Even as he looked down the hallway, which seemed much shorter now, he could see the trail of blood and feathers, which was attracting a good deal of attention. "Did they bring a bird in here?" some was asking.

He didn't even know where to start explaining, or whether he should. Instead, he simply started cleaning up the trail, while inside the room, the doctors worked their hardest, stopping the bleeding and bandaging up her wounds. It would be a long process.

She opened her eyes, drowsy. Her right wing was covered in bandages, and she tried to move to tear off the foreign material when she noticed that she was still restrained. Her cuts and wounds had been stitched, and the few bullets that had perforated her skin. “Gde ya…” she said softly, but it was meant to be a yell. Her throat was sore, and she was unsure of whether she even said it at all. The walls were white, there was no one else in the room save for the machines she had never been accustomed to. “Mne nuzhna ana…..mne nuzhna ana.” She said, and the machines gave her no reply. Her scarlet eyes flickered at the light in the center of the ceiling. Who were these people that took her earlier, and more importantly, where was she.

"Why is she here?"

It was an urgent hiss, the speaker staying quiet as if afraid she could hear him even through the sealed door to her room. He peered in through the window and saw she was staring, unblinking, at the ceiling, her mouth moving ever so slightly open and closed.

"Better question is, what is she?"

Both speakers were dressed in loose doctors' clothes, their mouths and noses covered by medical masks and their hair kept out of the way by what essentially amounted to shower caps. They stood, huddled together, outside her door, peering in at her and speaking in hushed tones.

"We don't know either answer," the second speaker continued, "and until we do, we can't let her go, no matter what agencies ask us for her for study. I want to find out what she is, I want to find out why she has wings, and I want to find out why she was so badly beaten up. Why were there bullets in her?"

"What if she gets better and tries to leave?"

"Too bad for her. She's too valuable scientifically for us to let her leave."

The first man hung his head. "This seems wrong."

"The first time's always the hardest, Jake. Chin up. You'll get used to it."

"She's awake. We should go try and talk to her, see if we can get some answers."

"Go ahead."

Without another word, the first doctor opened the door, closing it behind him, and walked slowly to the side of her bed, a clipboard and papers in his hand. "Hello?" he asked quietly. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyes widened, but not in fear. It was a primal rage towards that of her captors. He said something quietly, but the volume didn’t matter. It was all the same to her. It was unintelligible to her. “Ya nichevo ne panimayu…” she said at him. Struggling with her breath from the recently closed neck wound. “Pozbolte mne iti..” She said with a strain. She looked at him but he did not respond. She wanted out, and badly, but the restraints had been tied tightly. They were starting to bruise, but the rest of her wounds were healing quickly. “Gde ana….” She questioned, searching for an answer. “Gde ana!?” she was more desperate on her second attempt. “Mne nuzhna ana. Nozbolte mne iti, mne nuzhna ana…” Seeing as this man could not understand her, she became silent.

A tall figure strode down the alleyway. His black trenchcoat waved behind him as his steps quickened. The man's face was even, devoid of any sign of emotion. But deep down inside a feeling of rage was building. But he remained calm and in control of those feelings. It was a partial success. His contacts wanted him to retrieve an item from a certain person, an item of perplexing importance. When he inquired, they quickly moved on to other aspects of the plan. He didn't aske many questions, it was an honor. The thrill of the hunt, stalking an adversary that is more dangerous than any beast on Earth.

The prey, desperatley attempting to flee as he drew closer. Seeing her suffer brought a curl to his lips. His powerful body moved like an athlete, a body which he took great pride in maintaing, a lethal machine with a deadly efficent mind. The sound of her screams, the sight of blood, it was all captivating. The Hunter finished her off, but found no item. She must've hidden it or never had it at all. She was like no prey he ever encountered before. Strikingly beautiful, unEarthly so. Something...perfect in his mind. Her hair, her eyes, her figure...not to mention the angelic wings. Perplexed, he paused for a moment to understand exactly what he was doing, it all made sense, everything they told him. He smiled again and took from her her one wing. Content with the fact that her lifeless body lay before him, he swiftly departed. That was...until he recieved the call.
"She is not dead" a raspy and stark voice uttered.
"Impossible!" The Hunter excalimed.
"She was found and is in a hospital now, recovering" the voice hissed.
"I will not fail again" he reassured the voice, the voice which first contacted him two weeks prior. Such a convencing voice, which told a story which captivated the Hunter into accepting this job.
"You best not" and the other line went dead.

Now, the Hunter moved like an angered predator towards the described hospital. In his mind he formulated ways to get to her. There would more than likely extra security. Which was no issue for him. He ran a hand through his black hair and his hazel eyes settled on the emergency entrance of the hospital across the street.

She knew that she wouldn’t even been here if she hadn’t protected her. She knew that she would no longer feel this pain if she hadn’t have cared so much for her. But where was she? “Gde ana…” she asked one more time. Where is she? It was Russian, but that language was little practiced any where in this galaxy. “Menya zobut Katarina…” She looked at him, and he didn’t understand. She sighed heavily. It was going to be more work than she ever planned for. She looked into his eyes, and search. Blinding pain seared across his temples as the doctor stumbled backwards. She closed her eyes, which had begun to turn black. There was a long silence in her mind, even though the doctor was climbing to his feet. She took in a few breathes.

“Where is she?” she said, in pure common. She had a noticeable accent though. She had just acquired his language through the vocabulary he knew. She was not human. Hardly human. Since Ravelyn Shentavo came to the earth there hadn’t been another. And this one, however, was not inflicted with vampirism. She was pure. “My name is Katarina. Where am I? Why am I here…Let me go.” She looked at the doctor, who didn’t know what to do. “These bandages on my …you call it wing?” her sense of grammar was still a bit skewed. “Take them off…they are preventing me from healing. Remove binds. They steal my freedom. I don’t want to expend the energy to break them. Yes. I could.” The man hadn’t moved. “You brought me here to help me? Did you not? Jake…” she had said his name. “Free me.”

“He didn’t even see her, he didn’t see Sarah. And if I had fought back…he would have seen her. Next, time…I will fight…but where is she? Where is she?” her thoughts were jumbled more so because she could think over herself and there were less words to coincide with her thoughts than she would have liked.

The Hunter stopped at the edge of the shadows in the alley. Across the quiet street was the busy hospital. Visitors came in went, some with flowers, others with family members. As well as medical personnel scurrying from one end to another, an ambulance arrived, obviously carrying someone who was in need of immediate medical attention. It made him wonder, exactly how did his contact know where the woman would be? His contact knew many things and revealed many more things to him. The Hunter was doubtful about the true nature of his target up until he struck the final blow, revealing her wings. It caught him off guard but at the same moment, he gained an increasing amount of respect for his contact. Now, he had to settle on a way to get into the hospital. He could easily reveal his true nature and storm the hospital by force. But, his cover would be blown and too many lives cut short for one night. He chose instead to enter on a more stealthy basis. He noticed the arriving ambulance and a lingering aide behind the truck who was fumbling with paperwork. He wore blue coveralls and adjusted his glasses. The Hunter moved across the street, waited for a clear moment then latched onto the unsuspecting victim, dragging him into the shadows and twisting his head with incredible force. He fell limp in his arms and the Hunter took off his coveralls, undressed himself and put on the coveralls. He disposed of the body into an alley. They would find his body, but not for some hours, more than enough time. He strode into the hospital and the hunt began again.As he passed through the corridors, past men in white coats and nurses and continued his course.

He did not know where she was but it was only a matter of time before he found her and got exactly what he wanted...what his contact wanted. He never met this mysterious figure, only a voice...the voice. All those weeks ago, he recieved a call, the most important call of his life.
"Is this...Gabriel?" the voice inquired. There was a subtle note in his tone which Gabriel could not place. His tone was authoritive and to the point, only saying what needed to be uttered.
"Who is this?" Gabriel asked, a bit bewildered.
"I have something...something important to tell you" the voice then informed him, it was indeed important.
"Impossible! How could you know?!" Gabriel demanded
"I have my ways, friend" the voice reassured him. Gabriel could hardly believe it but was forced to, who else could know? How could anyone know of such a shattering secret? "I want you to help in discovering the truth"
"Go on" Gabriel urged, his heart racing, eager to know more.
"You must find two people, one of them is by far thee most important" The voice continued to speak, filling him in. Gabriel was sold.

Now, he continued his hunt, relentlessly stalking the hallways, but trying to remain unnoticed. It was easy, and he was determined to find this girl...Sarah. She held the key to certain answers, he was sure of it. Once he extracted the information from the other woman, the one with the wings, he'd kill her and find Sarah. He assured himself that he would succeed. Why wouldn't he? He'd been hunting for what seemed like ages, always improving, always hunting.

Sarah sat down on one of the pews, her white robes settling around her. The hood was down, and she was holding a cross between her slender fingers. Her hair was long, and blonde. It curved at the bottom sweetly. Half was pulled back away from her face in a silver clips, but some pieces strayed. Her eyes were an unsettling gray with a red tinge to them around the edges. She sat there for a long time in silence, until a man approached her. He was a priest, as she was a priestess. Temples and churches were different in the nation of Ravelyn Shentavo than in many other nations. The female was the leading sex as opposed to the man in many other societies. This was partially because their savor had been Ms. Ravelyn Shentavo, who had now retired at the ripe old age of 7 millennia and a few centuries. She had never aged visibly because she was what they called an earth angel. She was not of this world, but she was inflicted with vampirism early on in her reign. Now, there was a less known earth angel which had come to earth. It was not known to the public. If Ravelyn Shentavo had not been strong enough, or hadn’t been dating the Master of the City at the time, she would also have stayed in the laboratory she was kept in. But an earth angel in these lands to the general public is something to be revered, while many companies want to find a link to Ravelyn’s legacy and her kind, 99.9% will show no interest because she was such a great leader. Others that did were…executed by her family.

“Something troubles you, Sarahna,” the priest said, kneeling in front of her.

“It’s a friend...” she replied softly.

“It’s Katarina,” he sighed softly. “How badly beaten up was she?”

“Bad.”

“She’s an earth angel,” he said, noticing the surprise on her face. “I’ve known for a while. I’ve had enough training around the former Empress that her aura couldn’t be missed. She’s not a vampire though…”

“No, she is pure.”

“You feel guilty for getting her into this?”

“No, it’s not that. She’s a fighter, she always has been. She wanted to protect me from the instant our eyes met. I only wanted to protect her.”

“You are her lover, are you not?” he continued, his blue eyes shimmering slightly. “I could see it. Maybe the other parishioners couldn’t, but she started coming to the church with those wings of hers concealed when you started to give the sermons. You were inspired, by her love. The only time I saw her bear her wings to you was when she absolved you of your sins. You do know what an honor it is to be absolved by one of her kind. You understand what a position you are placed in being her lover. She will rule the nation one day…”

“She won’t. We’ve already discussed this. We want to live a quiet life ---“

“There is no quiet life with an earth angel. That woman is born to kill, and to love.”

“We want to live a quiet life as much as possible. We both know that there will be a lot of disruption given what she is and what I am. But I love her.”

“I know.”

Sarah put her hood up over her face, and stood up. The priest stood simultaneously, and escorted her from the door.

His drive to find the woman in the hospital strengthened. His resolve to discover the truth fueled him. This was his soul purpose as of the moment. He was a killer for hire yes, but it was not always such. He descended from an order of hunters, nowadays they are called assasins but he prefers the term "hunter". One thought continued to ping in the back of his mind, how did the voice know his first name? He never used his first name, no one knew it. And hardly anyone knew his last name either. The voice was full of suprises and revelations. His last name, the name he used now was Murdock, a simple and blunt name which suited him just fine. It was a rough name, a weathered name.

A nurse paced passed him but slowed a tad and craned her head back, flicking a lock of red hair away behind her ear. She shot him a curious glance which Murdock caught and turned to her.
"I've never seen you before, are you new?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, they just put me on this shift today" he repliec calmly.
"Oh, so how do you like it here?"
"I like it so far. The head docs seem like pricks" Murdock entertained her by answering the questions. She was holding him up but his face remained even and voice calm.
"Yeah" she laughed in agreeance "They get a little big in the head at times" she unfolded her arms. She was attractive enough, a cute freckled face and medium hair. Murdock looked down at his watch and blankly stared at it for a second and contorted his face into a look of frustration.
"Damn" he said almost to himself then looked up to her "I'm sorry, but I got to run something down to the shop, the one ambulance needs a tune-up, I think" he shrugged and turned to leave.
"Well, it was nice meeting you-" she paused, searching for a name.
"Gabriel" he replied plainly and continued to turn and walk away.
"I'm Laura!" she called out, Murdock gave a quaint smile and continued on his way. This little road bump was passed and he felt himself getting closer to his goal.

Even as Jake recorded scribbled shorthand notes on his clipboard, the woman spoke again, again in her garbled language. "I can't understand you," he said again, quietly, at which point she suddenly started saying words he could understand, and he froze, his pen hovering mid-word as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Working here, he heard all sorts of stories about the supernatural and fantastical creatures that flocked to the nation, most for the protection offered by its empress and her successor, supernatural being themselves, but had never personally seen one, and neither had many of the other doctors here. Now that he did, he was somewhat shocked. Evidently his immediate superior was far from as new to all this as he was, given the set process.

Getting her message, Jake gave a slow look at the door window. The other doctor was gone; he could only see the opposite wall of the hallway. He turned back to the woman strapped down against the bed, and slowly set down his clipboard and pen on the table next to him. He pulled his mask down onto his neck as he leaned slightly closer to her, and moved his hands hesitantly to begin unraveling the bandages on her wing. "I'm going to take the bandages off your wing, because I believe you about healing better without them, Katarina." He spoke slowly and clearly. He could tell her grasp of the language, however acquired, was still shaky. He took special care not to mention the restraints, hoping in her current state she would forget about them. He continued speaking, slowly, trying to keep her coherent. "I don't know who you're talking about, Katarina, but if you let me know, I can do my best to try and find them and get them here to see you. Do you know her name? Sarah ..." he prompted her.


*


Nean stood outside the hospital, but not across from the entrance the way a hesitant visitor would have. He stood in its extensive grounds behind, his eyes slightly narrowed, looking four floors up directly into a brick wall, uncaring of the flowers beneath his feet. Though there were no footprints around him, the flower was still bent, its stalk crushed beneath his black boot. The curtains were drawn to allow no natural light or prying eyes to penetrate the room, but he could still see its contents: a doctor, his aura bright, betraying his naivety, and the woman he had discovered. In his mind, he made a connection, and spoke quietly under his breath. Thousands of kilometres away, she heard him, and projected her words into his head as well.

"I've found something interesting."

Is it Irahes? Where is he?

"It's not Irahes."

Irahes is our primary concern. We know he tried to make contact with the Shentavo woman, and if he had been ultimately successful in employing her help it could mean the end of this centuries-old chase, but not in the way we have in mind. Find him, and kill him, or at least tell us where he is so we can administer the coup de grace.

"I believe what I have found may be even more interesting than Irahes. And if what I have found can be turned to our benefit, I believe we could destroy Irahes with ease, and he would be only our first target."

Even over such a long distance, he could feel he had piqued her curiousity.

Tell me more.

He did, in as much detail as he knew, and even over such a long distance, he could feel her smile, and the mutual gut feeling, almost of excitement, inside him and inside her as they shared their plans with each other.

Katarina just eyed him. She blinked a few times. This man did not know what she was. This man was trying to make her think she was crazy, or delusional for once. “I will break them then.” She said in a thick accent, but said it as a statement, as if it were nothing. The straps began to untie themselves, the buckles undoing themselves not by notch, but quickly, efficiently. She sat up and swung off the table. She locked the door and stood between him and the exit. “I thought I had asked politely. She tore off the cover she was wearing; that sorry excuse for a paper napkin dress. She stretched out her wings. The right one had even begun to mend itself. The left one had piercings going along the top rim. She clearly had both her nipples pierced and a tattoo of the sun on both her hips. She really was perfect. She slammed her fist into an open palm, and her wings vanished in a mound of feathers. They were replaced by the tattoo of wings on her back, the right one was slowly being drawn in by an invisible needle. Gloves covered both her hands, cut offs without fingers. A red tank top, lycra material accentuating her modest but perfectly shaped bust. Baggy cargo pants and thick boots completed the outfit. She looked at him.

“What, you thought I was human?” she scoffed. “See you Jake.” She waved with an infamous smile and unlocked the door. She made her way casually towards the rear of the hospital and its many exits.

She attracted little attention as she made her way through the hospital - most everyone was too busy to take notice of an ordinary-looking woman making her way towards an exit. Jake didn't even try to stop her, and resolved to turn in his resignation before his superior found out and had him fired.


*


Nean was far from surprised at how easily she had broken free of her bonds, and even less surprised at the level of control she exerted over the human doctor, without even trying. She was definitely still not at full strength, and it would take some time before she was, but she was more than powerful enough for humans inexperienced in the ways of beings like her. The first in seven thousand years, and he was the first to find her. The rewards would be heaped upon him - if they succeeded, of course.

Looking deep into the building, he could see which exit she was making for, and effortlessly made his way there, letting his feet touch the ground and leave footprints of black, dead grass and flowers behind them. The others were on their way, and their energy signatures would surely attract others. It was to be a royal party in the back garden of a hospital, and the guest of honour was also the top prize of the day. Even just from feeling out and around, without even worrying about who the people were, he could feel two others, unrelated, closing in on her position. One was a human, and already inside the hospital. The other was close but closing quickly. And, from far away, his allies were coming. Despite the long distance, she would be here soon, followed by her brother. And ... he felt the air around him, and an unbidden smile conquered his face in a split second.

Irahes...

The renegade was the second alone figure, closing on the scene. Whether he was there for Nean or for the woman was unknown. If he was coming for Nean, he was stupider than Nean could imagine. The hunted deciding to attack the hunter? A laughable joke. The hunted happening to converge upon the hunter's location? Unlikely. That left the woman. Undoubtedly, Nean's efforts to mask himself had worked, and Irahes was on his way to investigate the woman. Perfect.

The time had come to kill two birds with one stone.

Finally out of the hospital, Katarina stretched her arms. It was a beautiful day. She stood on the sidewalk, looking out onto the traffic, clearly unimpressed. She checked her watch. She had left her cell phone back at her apartment. Her hair looked black in the sunlight; short and spiked slightly with the front tucked carefully behind her ears. She had side bangs which were swept to one side. She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, and lit one of them without a lighter. She waited, what for, however, was not entirely clear. There was much power within two words that she was waiting for. Those two words...

"...Hello, dear."

They were, needless to say, most likely not the two words she had been waiting for. Nean could tell by her reaction as he stepped out from the imperceptibly small shadow of a sapling, growing out of the sidewalk and encased by a black grille of a fence, doubtless put there by some civil servant or volunteering schoolchild, on a 'green campaign' for the city.

She hadn't sensed him. That was why she was surprised by his presence. And he didn't want her to sense him, so he kept himself hidden. She could see him with her eyes, but beneath that it looked as if nothing was there. It suited his purposes perfectly. If she couldn't sense him, Irahes couldn't either, and would arrive without warning into a perfect trap.

To describe Nean's looks would be impossible. Not only could he change his form, features, and so much more, but everyone who saw him saw something else. If he was a rat, some would see a large black rat, some a small hairless rat. As a man, unless purposefully trying to be something he was not, he could look like nearly anyone, so long as they looked powerful. That, when confronting something, was an inevitability, that he looked powerful to them. His true form was an abomination, something that would drive an ordinary mind mad simply to see, and he did not wish that upon the onlookers. Not yet, at least. His origins a mystery, he had spent the last four hundred years helping the others, his allies. They considered him a servant, even a possession, but one not to be trifled with. He knew better. They had no idea of what he was. They merely thought he was something sent to aid them, or misproduced by one of their forays into the occult.

He simply stood there, on the sidewalk, visible only to her, and looked down at her. A woman, short, and wearing headphones, jogged right through him, and shivered slightly. Wisps of black curled around the area she had passed through, and slipped down from his body towards the ground of the street, where they curled and writhed on the sidewalk and in the gutter, giving off hissing noises as they made strange fluid motions on the ground and left a strange trail of black behind them that slowly dissipated as they passed by.

He could feel her, and he could feel her emotions as he confronted her ever so passively. At the same time, he could feel the others, all four of them, from three differing sides, closing in on the two already present.

Katarina turned, and looked at him, stared coldly into his eyes. “You are too late, I’ve already called for a ride,” she said with a thick accent, and then proceeded to check her nails. A ghostly white hand wrapped around her waist, and the figure appeared behind her in white robes. Long blond hair flowed out of them. Katarina’s eyes turned black. The white robed figure kept her face hidden, and a tight grasp around Katarina’s waist. She had come in like a shade, like the morning breeze. She was a bit taller, but not by much.

“Hello,” Sarah said in an ethereal whisper. “and…goodbye.” With the passing wind the two vanished from sight. Those two words that held so much meaning. “Hello…and Goodbye.”


------

As they materialized, Katarina was pushed up against the beige painted wall of the bedroom. Sarah held her by the waist and had one hand in hers. She pressed it flat against the wall, and kissed along her neck. Katarina gave her a smile and laughed. Sarah stopped, and looked into the face of her lover in all seriousness. “You were hurt pretty badly, if there was a chance that I would harm you furth---“

“Shhhh…” came Katarina’s breathless laugh, teasing. “I think I will be able to handle a little church girl, thank you very much.” She grinned, and without further hesitation removed her shirt exposing both of her piercings. Normally a lover will touch the other the way that they themselves want to be touched, however…the two had figured out each other to a T, and the fighter of the two got the roughness she needed while the time-lord got the gentle touches she craved. Katarina buried her head in Sarah’s shoulder, and licked along her clavicle. She started tugging at the clasps on Sarah’s robes.

Girls will be girls.

Nean's eyes narrowed slightly at the arrival of the second woman, and the departure of them both, and then his lips curled into a grin. "I knew it wouldn't be so easy," he whispered, even as two more figures appeared behind him. Both were shorter, but by no means did that make them weak.

"Where is she, Nean?" the woman barked. "You told us she would be here."

"She was," Nean replied bemusedly, still not turning.

The man behind Nean grabbed Nean by the shoulder and tried to spin him around. "God damnit, Nean, if you let her get away-"

"Rest assured, my compatriot, that a prize this large I would never allow to escape. Irahes will be here soon, if he hasn't sensed you and run off."

With that he disappeared, leaving the two others to give each other aggravated looks and begin searching for Irahes.


*


Beige walls. How boring. Let's turn them red. He thought it in but a split second, even as he materialized a short distance away from the lovers' embrace.

"It's not quite that easy, girls," Nean said with a laugh, and more than a slight change in tone. "And though you do make quite a pretty picture, I'm afraid this is one party I'm going to have to break up."

Katarina slowly removed her lips from the top of Sarah’s right breast while still holding her possessively; she turned her chin and glared at him. It was a cold, death glare, and her eyes glowed red momentarily, at sheer annoyance. She spread her black wings out from her back, the tattoo fading as the monstrous things emerged. Both were pierced, and the right was almost fully healed. “Don’t interrupt me. Ten more minutes, then I deal with you,” she snarled at him. Sarah merely looked on with disinterest until her lover’s affections returned to her. To which, she was very responsive. Katarina definitely was the cold-blooded fighter some had claimed her to be. You could simply see it in her eyes.

Nean sighed and cocked his head to the right, giving her a clearly disapproving look. "You don't scare me, angel. You think you do, because you think I'm some weakling, and you're used to being the big strong one. But I'm not unreasonable. I'd hate to make you leave - or die, your choice, really - without one last goodbye fuck. So please, get on with it," he said, taking a step back and raising his hands almost in a peaceable gesture. "I haven't got all day. Just make like I'm not even here." He stepped back again, putting his back against the wall, and slowly faded from view.

The emergency room was still a swarm of activity, a sort of thinly-choreographed dance masked by the illusion of pandemonium. An athletic-looking woman wearing a black T-shirt and a police-like equipment belt sat in the waiting area, people-watching. There really wasn't much else to do. Her shirt identified her as a bail bondsman, or 'bondsperson' as she preferred. The shirt, however, read exactly as her occupational statement on her taxes did, much to her chagrin.

Her jeans were a bit looser than one might have expected from a woman of her age, which fell in the mid twenties, closer to thirty than twenty-five. Her build was athletic, accenting her decent bust and hips, but she preferred to keep those particular aspects of her anatomy hidden until she was behind closed doors. Golden locks had been pulled back in a short ponytail at the back of her head, in an attempt to keep them out of her green eyes as much as possible. Her face would fall into the 'cute' category on the scales of all but the most picky of males, not that she cared. Light freckles crossed the bridge of her nose, and her skin had been tanned by a lot of outdoors work.

The boots on her feet were clearly Army issue, she'd done a enough years in the service to learn how to shoot and that she preferred the company of her own gender in her private life. The Army, and the military police corps she'd been a part of, wasn't too keen on that sort of thing, and she'd been forced to leave quietly after six years on an honorable discharge. She'd floated between jobs for a while until she'd met a man by the name of Jerico St. Croix, a bail bondsman and owner of just such an agency in upper New York. St. Croix was an ex-Ranger, and as such a fellow soldier, so he'd cut her a break and given her a job. She'd run down some small-time runners in-state until Jerico had gotten a break for himself in the form of some international business. In short, that meant higher bounties and higher risks, which would mean he'd need more personnel. They'd added Dekker Bray a few weeks later, a former SEAL and ex-mercenary with experience in overseas work looking to leave the private sector for something a bit less dangerous. He'd called it 'Living to spend it', referring to whatever money he'd made as a soldier of fortune.

Jerico had sent the two of them after some asshole who'd skipped bail and fled across the world to this place, where-ever it was, she'd forgotten the name already and it wouldn't matter in a few hours after Dekker and her got the bastard on the first flight back to New York, where he'd be routed elsewhere by whatever agency had put the money on his head. Jerico was a shrewd motherfucker when it came to getting things done his way, and bringing the runners back to home base made sure they were accounted for and that his people got their money for their work.

They'd caught up to the guy, she thought his name was Clemmens, or something like that, in the airport when they'd arrived, and to make a long story short Dekker wound up breaking the guy's arm in two places when he tried to resist, and his nose for some reason with a headbutt. She'd hauled the unfortunate man off to the nearest hospital while Dekker went to restroom to clean the blood off of his forehead in the event their mark had contracted something nasty. A buzzing on her waist snapped her out of her doze...

"Fuck..."

It was her cell-phone, probably Jerico calling for a sit-rep...


"What!?"

"Don't what me, Jackie. How are things?"

She hated being called Jackie, her real name was Jaclyn and she didn't enjoy having it abbreviated for any reason. Jerico knew this, pulling his usual stunt when she copped an attitude...

"Just fine, boss. Dekker's steroid-hyped ass decided to break our perp's arm in two places, and his nose for good measure. He's off cleaning up at the moment. Docs' ought to have Mr. Clemmens out in the next hour or so..."

Dekker was a big guy, about six-two and a powerful two-hundred fifty pounds, and known to her he detested the use of anything other than organic workout-enhancers. He enjoyed her steroid comments about as much as she enjoyed Jerico calling her 'Jackie'...

"Good to hear, and tell Dekker that your guys' plane leaves in the morning. Bye..."

Jerico wasn't known for his phone manners, and his abrupt termination of their conversation didn't do much for her mood. She needed a beer and a bath, then maybe she'd stand a chance of getting laid...

"You up?"

Jaclyn brought her eyes upwards, then up some more until her gaze met Dekker's unsettling blue eyes, showcasing their usual warrior's glare. Jerico's eyes were much the same, but differed in color. You could always tell the hardcore motherfuckers by that look...

"Yeah, and next time, don't try to kill the guy. This ain't the old West, asshole. Control your testosterone next time. Gawd!"

He was pretty good-looking, for a man. The large Kimber Combat Gold refinished in hard chrome hanging under his shoulder drew more than a few shaky glances from the other occupants of the waiting area, more so than the few that picked out the Glock 19 on her left hip. The shoulder-holster's strap neatly obscured the lettering on his shirt, which looked more like a bill-board on his broad chest. He didn't seem to care, however. His only other tools were an equally-intimidating Mercworx Equitorian knife taped to the other side of his shoulder-rig, under which hung two sets of double-magazine pouches.

Jaclyn's own set-up more closely resembled that of a street-cop, complete with a baton. Her only knife was a little hideaway tucked under a flap she'd sewn into the strap of her sports bra, not that she ever needed it. Dekker usually subdued the marks leaving her free to cuff them, which was why he rarely wore handcuffs. She was the former MP, after all...

"My bad... I thought he was going for my gun..."

The big ex-merc was still wiping the last traces of blood from his forehead with a brown paper-towel...

"Just go check on him will you? I hate fucking hospitals..."

Dekker's expression shifted from an amiable look to one of slight annoyance. While he was nearing the rough side of forty, he still acted like he was twenty-two...

"Alright, alright! Jesus Christ, pop a Midol or something! You're worse than my ex-wife..."

Jaclyn had heard the story a hundred times, about how he had a kid about her age and how he'd finally stopped paying child support a few years ago, how she made him feel old, and how if she was straight they'd make a nice couple. That last part had ended some weeks ago, it had been more of a joke anyhow. Jaclyn had made it clear when they'd first met that she had no interest in him, or any other man that made a pass at her. Dekker, the wise sage he tried to pass himself off as on occasion, attributed her angry moods to her lack of companionship. In other words, she needed to get some. She was starting to believe him...

"Hey, he's ready..."

It was Dekker again, standing over her...

"Okay, let's go. We'll have to keep him cuffed in the hotel overnight, Jerico's got our flight booked for tomorrow morning..."

"Fuck! Guess we'll be pulling shifts tonight..."

"Guess so..."

"Too bad. Ya know I could be pulling something..."

"Stop it! I don't want to hear it you middle-aged frat boy!"

The pair walked towards the nurses' window with Dekker chuckling to himself and Jaclyn scowling angrily...

They didn’t care there was some big badie watching them. They were used to it, or at least, Katarina was. They had ended up on the bed, and Katarina sat up. “Hello,” she said softly, tracing short nails over Sarah’s cheek.

“and goodbye,” Sarah said with a light smile, but she was hesitant on leaving. Katarina nodded, and Sarah faded. Katarina stood up, wings still fully visible. She picked up her jeans from the floor and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it and went over to her dresser. She took a drag and rummaged through her clothes. She pulled out a pair of camo army shorts and slipped them on with a thin black belt around her waist. Her build was toned; very toned. She was slim and athletic. She pulled on her boots and sat on the edge of the bed to lace up her boots which came just below the knee. She ran her hands through her short black hair that was rumpled from simple motions. She took another drag on the cigarette, and set it to the side to replace her nipple rings with black rhinestone barbells. She sighed heavily.

“Make this quick,” she said, not looking up. “I’ll be late for work if you keep me too long.” She pulled on her black cut off biker gloves and a black tank. It had the word ‘angel’ written across the chest in black sequins.

Nean slowly faded into view again in a corner, his arms folded and eyes closed in an almost-peaceful expression. Were it not for the active evil emanating from him, an observer could have though he was sleeping. Even with the aura, it was possible he was dreaming, until he spoke.

"Right, then. Now that you've had your fun, it's my turn to be the melodramatic one." He opened his eyes and raised his head, his unblinking eyes staring straight at her. "I'm going to give you a manner of choice. You can come with me willingly, come with me unwillingly, or die. It's up to you, and this is the sort of choice I can't make for you. Go ahead," he said with a mocking encouraging nod towards her. "Make up your mind."

“Where are we going and how long is it going to take?” Katarina questioned, and took another drag on her cigarette. Her cold crimson eyes stared at nothing in particular. She was bored. “You know I could open up my link to her anytime I want to. I’ve had it slammed shut since I’ve gotten here because I don’t want to cause a stir. Imagine having Ravelyn Shentavo after your ass for killing the only other one of her kind. You realize, that even if she didn’t know me, she’d kill you for the fight. Her daughter may reign now, but she’s still around. She’s probably with that…guy from Haraki was it? It was all in the papers…” she sat down on the bed, bored, and waiting for answers.

He stayed where he stood, watching her. "Frankly, I wouldn't care if you called the Queen of Sheba to your aid. Shentavo or no, I have a distinct feeling I could ... you know what, never mind. Where are we going? Somewhere pleasant, where you'll meet some nice people with a proposition for you, and tell them yes or no. I can't guarantee how they'll respond to either answer. But hey, what have you got to lose?"

“A lover,” she responded dryly. “Why can’t they come here? It’s pretty ballsy to send a messenger out for me. Besides, I have work…” she said, sticking her cigarette butt into her thigh and smoldering it in her skin. It didn’t burn. She sighed. "Your wasting my time."

Nean sighed. "The easy way never works. I don't know why I even try anymore," he said with a slight shake of his head.

Well. So much for politeness.

He raised his left hand, and a perfect cirle of blackness snapped into existence in the air to his left, surrounded by a crackling and swirling circle of deep purple and black energy, moving incredibly fast around the outside of the circle. Inside the circle, the darkness remained eerily calm.

And then, suddenly, it erupted outwards. The blackness of the circle reached out from the centre, taking on the shape of an inhuman claw, then a long arm, then another, until finally a pure black being, definitely not human, and definitely powerful, leaped out, detaching itself from the portal behind it. Another followed, shaped differently but no less powerful, and another, and another, until an endless stream of the creatures poured forth. They made no noise and nothing could be seen of their inside, but they rose up and down as if breathing and as their limbs moved, inhumanly fast, they left bits of blackness floating in the air for but a moment before they made their way back into the creature itself. Dozens of them had formed in the first few seconds, with hundreds more forming as time passed, an impossibly large number given the confined space. And then, as one, they leapt at Katerina, their sole purpose in existence to bring her down.

“Let’s make this quick,” she scoffed, and met the tendrils faster than they had come for her. She could sense the power of the other being who had been with her, but she could not fear. She wasn’t built for it. She would still be a pain in the ass no matter who she had to deal with, even if they could kill her, it didn’t matter. An earth angel’s original purpose on the earth is to destroy it, but that was only shared between Ravelyn and now herself. Ravelyn hadn’t gone over the edge yet, but she came close, when her former fiancé died. It was then that Katarina had been sent. She sighed heavily as she let herself be consumed. She wished she could fear. She wished she could truly love. Ravelyn’s spirit was brighter than hers in the sense that she had the capacity to love. With Katarina it was questionable. She wasn’t afflicted with Ravelyn’s condition. She was a pure bred. Let’s get this over with and don’t waste my time.