There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism. ~George Eliot

Howe's pleas for a couple of weeks had somehow turned into months. Aunty M was over living at the Inn. The service was horrible; the maids were scarce, (not that she blamed them, she'd avoid this dangerous dump too), clean sheets were several hundred dreams away and she was particularly done with pumping water just to wash her hands, screw the deplorable condition of the upper floor's toilet closet! But the real nightmare of living at the inn was the noise! The Red Dragon never seemed to have a quiet night or for that matter day. Anything from loud flirtatious girly squeals to explosions! It amazed M that the inn still stood and that people still bothered to come to it.

Waiting on Howe obviously had its price. But no one said M had to suffer for it. If she had to be in Rhy"Din she might as well be comfortable. So M went house hunting. Money was not an issue, M had plenty of that' but location was important and fortification was even more so.

In a city the size of Rhy"Din there are many neighborhoods. A person could easily find a place where they could feel "at home". M found exactly what she was looking for in the north-east quadrant of Rhy"Din. The quaint little house, (two-storied mansion actually) was isolated and easily fortifiable. It was the perfect place for M!

Golden Oaks Hall was originally built during the Rhy"Din Revival of 2005, (CE) by Aksandur Arwen Brooks, an unknown architect of dubious skill and abilities. Unfortunately the house was in sad disrepair and would require several weeks of refurbishing before it would be livable. But that suited M just fine as it offered her the option to quietly incorporate security and add a few extra perks to her new "home" under the guise of 'renovations".

M set her minions to work fixing up her new house.

In the meantime, a girl's gotta eat, right' It had been months since M had a "good meal". And where better to find one than the Marketplace" She'd be able to shop while picking out a tidbit or two to munch on.

As M made her way down the quaint streets of Rhy"Din's Marketplace, she saw a petite woman strolling into what looked like an office building of some sorts. The sign that hung from the building indicated it was some sort of Community Center or maybe it was a blood bank" M's wasn't sure. The woman, though, she was sure of. She had short, curly black hair and green eyes; she didn't look anything like she once did, but M knew her. The bitch wore a magical fa"ade, as if she were actually trying to hide her nature" That might work on the casual eye but M saw right through that petty spell! She'd recognize that aura anywhere! A cold, heartless smile lifted the corners of M's mouth as she stood and watched Belial sauntering so casually about. It was simply too perfect, she couldn't believe her luck. Nor could M ignore that lovely vessel Belial had gotten her hands on.

Well" If M had anything to say about it, Belial would be the one looking for a "new home" soon!

Howe had gotten lucky too, he no longer needed to find M a new body, because M had found it for herself. M's smile turned into a fury of a frown. She was mighty irked. Howe had to have known Belial was in Rhy"Din. M had to wonder how that little tidbit of information got lost. Howe knew damn good and well the shared history between M and Belial. Another strike she could use against him' Yes, simply lovely; a reason to punish Howe and a way to steal something precious from her immortal enemy too! The frown lifted with the shift of her mood. M's day couldn't get much better" outside of a tasty snack or three.

It took M little time to drum up a handful of orphans looking to make quick coins. Then after several hours of intense shopping, M with her entourage of street urchins took a carriage back to M's new house. Of the four street urchins she hired none were seen leaving Golden Oaks. But then again? M made sure no one saw them entering either. Well" Save the coachman but he didn't leave Golden Oaks that day anymore than the urchins did.

M loved her new home. Quiet, isolated and perfect; it catered to her every need. And lunch on the veranda was spectacular" and very satisfying.

(To Be Continued...)

"Since Satan himself is capable of appearing to be an angel of light, it is not to be deemed strange that those who are in his service also should resemble him." 2 Corinthians 11:14 & 2 Corinthians 11:15

Howe looked out over the interior of the WestEnd warehouse. The spacious area was dirty, crude and unfinished but their needs required very little renovation. No reason to waste money, even M's, in this toss-away rattrap of a building. Everything was ready just not very pretty. In the end it wouldn't matter — the warehouse would be torched when they were done leaving no evidence of their crimes to condemn them. Wilbur Willa had arranged the purchase of the place through a third party for Howe. All on the up and up of course. No way to tie it back to Howe or M. He'd smile over his sly deviousness but nothing actually belonged to him therefore he did not consider it a real win.

If it doesn't enhance one's portfolio it certainly shouldn't be counted.

None of what he'd purchased in the last year actually belonged to Howe — he'd lost that privilege when he'd been forced into hiding and had to rely on M and her minions to do his bidding for him. It was that or be caught out by his very irate partners. No, hiding alive was better than dead or worse erased. Therefore Howe had made sure there was nothing to clue them into his continued presence in Rhy'Din. Every purchase had been made by seemingly innocuous individuals. There was no way to trace anything back to him or for that matter his slave master M. Surprisingly Howe was ok with that. Most of the money he'd spent had been to finish his deal with M and gain his freedom from her. Let her take on the expenses while he gained invaluable allies of his own on her dime! Now this he considered quite brilliant and devious of himself— worthy of a smile indeed!

But there was more! Something only he knew about. M had been intentionally left in the dark — she wouldn't have approved and would likely have tried to stop him anyway. But when opportunity knocked — Howe couldn't resist! Yes, it had cost him a significant amount of power, which he'd had to build back up surreptitiously, but the payoff! Ahh, he was certain it would be more than worth the investment.

Howe had played Santa Claus at a Winterfest party thrown by none other than Fio Helston. Oh, and he'd been a very giving Santa too! Of course nearly every present gifted was done so with great deliberation. Yes, yes, there had been a few in attendance he'd not recognized and those conjured gifts were lacking in finesse — they were useless trinkets that would likely be of no exploit for Howe. But then there were the pearls! Those precious, precious nuggets of pure gold: Fio Helston, her child and (Howe assumed) her lover as well. Not to mention the Avenger. Yes, it had been too sweet an opportunity to pass up!

Wouldn't Cheatham die knowing about Howe's coup"! Too bad he wouldn't be able to indulge in any bragging rights — that was the one aspect of having partners he missed.

There had been a few close calls at the party — when Lusiphur Blood appeared with Lankyn's Necromancer Brat, Tasha Oberon, Howe had been certain they'd somehow manged to sniff him out. And there was a moment with Fio Helston when Howe was sure she was on to him. But by the end of the evening no one seemed the wiser and Howe's little "gifts" would certainly keep on giving— to him of course!

Once his business with M was concluded — Howe would be able to use those "gifts" to garner the best information possible to leverage DCW out of Rhy'Din and him in to the perfect spot to lay claim over Rhy'Din's Nexual Node. No partners — JUST HOWE in control of all that lovely throbbing power. Yes, he will at last be free to use that power in ways HE wants without the control (or fear) of Dewey!

However....Howe had to get rid of M first — or he was merely exchanging one master for another. No, that wouldn't do, not in the least!

There was one last item Howe had to have before he could begin the ritual, the most important thing really — the tool that would allow him to control Belial. It was the very reason he stood waiting in the empty, dirty warehouse.

"I have what you have asked for," the masculine voice was little more than a whisper overhead somewhere in the dark depths of the rafters yet easily heard by the demon Howe. "But I doubt you understand what you are up against."

"So ya've come at last. I was beginning to think ya stood me up — changed your mind or somethin'."

A low muted chuckle devoid of any real emotion echoed hollowly through the chilly spaces. "Your pride will be your undoing. But either way I win. Either you kill her or she kills you."

The tightly rolled parchment fell to the floor before Howe's feet. A ruffling of wings could be heard above stirring up whirling clouds of dust and then a sudden heavy silence.

"Angels." Howe sneered as he leaned down and snatched up the rolled tube of paper. A bone-chilling smile curved thin cruel lips as pudgy fingers wrapped tightly around the Angelic spell. Now all he had to do was gather the participants.

Howe saw his time as M's prisoner coming to an end and a new beginning with him in complete control — Captain of the ship! Yes, times were a-changing, and he was on the brink of Godhood — about to get everything he ever wanted.

(to be continued")

"The perfect joys of heaven do not satisfy the cravings of nature." ~ William Hazlitt

Aunty M had once been a beautiful woman but time had wrought ruin. Overindulgence had left the tall, willowy frame heavy, ponderous and round, while frown lines made weighty with discontent had etched ever deeper across her face. But M wistfully recalled the beauty now faded. If she could look like that again? All this muss and fuss would be over. M sighed as she stepped away from the mirror. She should be celebrating. She was about to exact revenge on one of her worst enemies, to steal something more precious than was ever taken from her. And" she was about to be beautiful again.

But really' Belial's shell was not the kind of beauty M liked or wanted. It was dark and short, all imploring eyes and lips " the epitome of the helpless female. Shapely enough perhaps, for some who like their women masculine and athletically slender " without sumptuous feminine curves. Not at all M's ideal. No, M wanted slinky yet full, blonde yet sly, the kind of woman a man knows the moment he lays eyes on he wants.

If only there was a fountain of youth" M pined silently.

Snapping back to the moment, M checked the time. Howe was late. Not really surprising, the snake had no concept of time. It never ceased to amaze her how he'd managed to pull off being such a successful attorney! She couldn't stop herself from thinking a few more spiteful comments she could use later to tear him down when she suddenly realized her distraction. It was her nerves " they were getting to her.

M was excited yet anxious. When dealing with the likes of the demon Belial " one can only hope to retain the upper hand. If they fail " the fury of Belial could be deadly for them both. That is" if that puppy hasn't been neutered" Another mystery M would love to have answered. What happened to Belial since she'd been here in the land of the Physical" Had it impacted her powers" M hoped so, for her own safety.

Howe had promised that no matter the circumstance he could rein the bitch in. How he planned to pull that off was still a mystery to M " but damn was she dying to know! There were so many questions and oh-too-few answers. But not for long, M had her ways of unearthing what she wanted to know. She was tenacious, stubborn and ruthless " there wasn't a secret safe once she got a scent of it.

Still" The only way M knew of reining in their race was to use forbidden magics " spells and incantations kept locked away by the ever illusive Raziel. Hmm, if Howe had access to those secrets" M's mind began swimming with the possibilities" and the power that would give her once she laid hands on it!

"Daydreaming about what you're gonna do with your sexy new shell, eh?" Howe whispered into her left ear, having appeared out of nowhere. M had the wherewithal not to jump at his attempt to startle her.

"What I'm thinkin" is none of your damn business, snake. You're late."

"I was setting everything up." He unflappably replied. He was confident, relaxed and in control. He seemed mighty sure of himself. M wasn't nearly as sure of him as he apparently was. Howe continued talking as he tugged a cigar out of the pocket of his expensive suit jacket. "All that is needed is you and I. I assume you are ready?"

M turned to stare at him coldly. "You're telling me you've already gotten Belial?"

Howe grinned and nodded as he placed the cigar between thin lips, teeth notched down on the stem. "Trussed up like a pig to slaughter. Yes." His reply barely muted by the cigar.

M didn't know what to say. Thousands of others had tried and failed. The only success M knew of was when Morningstar turned his back on Belial. Yet somehow Howe had managed to subdue the demon and without as much as a scratch on his shell or rip in his fancy suit. She assessed him a moment longer then blatantly asked "How" How did you manage this" impossible feat?"

"Ahh, my dear M, there are some things that you are allowed to know and then" there are some secrets I mean to keep." Howe responded affably, with his best country lawyer charm. Then in a cold, cruel tone he continued "None of your damn business, Bitch. You demanded it; I did it. You get what you want; I get my freedom. That's the deal."

M's fingers rose up to entwine themselves around her blood red ruby pendant, the singular piece of jewelry she was never without. She looked away from Howe and out the window of her grand manse contemplatively. The lovely countryside of Rhy'Din's Northside spread out before her like an inviting buffet. This would be the last time she saw this view at her height. Next time she gazed out this window she'd need a footstool to see as far.

Damn it all! If only she had access to a fountain of youth!

She was as ready as she'd ever be. Later she'd make Howe pay for his arrogance and evasions. Once he realized he'd been screwed over, of course. She never had any intention of granting him jackshite — his freedom would never come by her hand.

(To Be Continued?)

"Be careful what you wish for..." — Anonymous

Meanwhile — Somewhere in the Westend...

One minute Bel had been standing in the Marketplace but in less than a blink of an eye she was here — she did not know where — trapped in a cage of Angelic Magic. Those green eyes widened as she looked over the dirty, empty space. The first thing she noticed was the circle surrounding her. It was of an intricate design; Angelic text flowed around the edge encircled by ancient symbols of power. The substance used in its creation was a composite of ground up limestone and coal. She recognized it immediately and knew someone had laid their hands on forbidden Angelic Secrets.

Raziel"! But....why" Was her first thought and the most logical of conclusions to draw. He was the Keeper of Secrets — the protector of Angelic Magic. But she and hers had no quarrel with him. Certainly something else must be up" Maybe Mab..." Guessing would get her nowhere...

Instinctively she tried to reach Wulf through their telepathic connection and failed. She wasn't surprised; it was Angelic Magic and likely constructed to restrain all aspects of her nature no doubt. That green gaze swept away from the circle to continue her inspection of the area desperately seeking any clues as to who, where or why. Anything that might help her figure a way out of this.

Off to her left sat a four foot high rectangular stone table the length of a mortal man — six and a half feet at least and about a foot and a half wide. A pile of disheveled rags with bits and pieces of debris sat atop it. A bucket was off to one side of the rags; it looked....wet and black. It was as if they had been discarded after an abortive attempt at cleaning. There were stairs that led up to a second story landing surrounded by a cheap metal railing in sad disrepair. There was nothing, not even a door, on the landing. Worn and unstable looking rafters overhead and walls of wood that had seen better days. The overall impression was derelict and abandoned.

Perhaps a warehouse near the docks" She reasoned silently. That is....if I am still in Rhy'Din...

The smell of fresh blood hit her suddenly increasing the already intense unease that had settled over her. It seemed to come from the direction of the odd stone table. This brought a scowl to her pale, youthful-seeming features. Another odd scent followed; that of her brethren. It was recent, but before she could hone in on whom she was derailed by the sudden arrival of Howe and an older, seemingly unfamiliar female. They'd teleported in with only the softest whoosh of air.

"You see, M. I told ya." Howe leered oh-so-pleased with himself as he waved a grandiose hand towards the trapped Belial.

"And you're sure she can't hurt us?" M demanded stepping back a few paces. She was intent on keeping as much distance between herself and Bel as possible. No, she didn't trust Howe; she knew what a snake he really was.

"What's the meaning of this"!" Bel demanded forcefully in her best 'I'm in charge here' voice.

The pair ignored her.

"I tole ya, M, I got it covered! An', if ya had yer wits about ya, you'd see it. Just look at the circle!" Howe jabbed a thick index finger at his handiwork. He was rather proud of his accomplishment and intended to rub M's nose in it.

M wasn't convinced. She kept her distance as she circled Bel and her prison while inspecting Howe's 'handiwork'. "Where'd you get this magic, Snake"!"

It was something Bel wanted to know too so she quelled her outrage for the moment and rested that green gaze on Howe.

Howe snorted as he spun and headed towards the stone table turning his back on both of them dismissively. "Yeah, right, like that's gonna work, Bitch. I tole ya; I ain't got any intention of sharing my secrets with you. Let's get this over with."

Bel was disappointed but that was overshadowed as she realized Howe called the woman 'M'. That green gaze swept back to the woman and narrowed. "Moloch' Is that you?"

"Shut up, Bitch!" M snarled at Bel. "You dare speak my name"! Look whose caught in the mousetrap, eh' And now it's my turn to exact revenge! That cute little shell you stole will be MINE soon enough!"

Bel's turn to smirk; she'd hit a nerve by recognizing the woman. "My, how you've changed." Bel couldn't help the taunt; it came naturally. But her amusement was short-lived.

Her shell"!

A frowned suddenly replaced the smirk. She wasn't wearing a shell; she had to learn how to create one for herself years ago after Lars Helston had inadvertently destroyed the one she had. For the first time in centuries Bel felt a pang of real fear for her wellbeing. She silently battled with herself if she should inform them of this fact when the realization struck her that neither of them would believe her. They had no idea what?s happened to her since she "quit" her job working for Morningstar and she was pretty certain that nothing she said would convince them....Heck, if the situation were reversed she wouldn't believe them either. Bel had no idea what to do — escape seemed impossible. She chose not to panic and pay close attention to them instead. Maybe an opportunity would present itself"

A girl can hope...

"Ignore her, M. We've got more important things to do." Howe snapped, beginning to rearrange the pile of rags. "Does it have to be anatomically correct to work?" He muttered under his breath while he tended to his task.

It was then that Bel realized that the rags were in fact human remains. What was Howe up to' Was it some kind of a trick he was playing on both she and Moloch" She couldn't figure it out because it made no sense. To do what the pair was proposing would require a pure soul. The dead were soulless; even if he reanimated the corpse it would be useless to them. Certainly Moloch knew this too"

Aunty M stepped closer to the circle holding Belial. It had finally sunk in — the grand demon was trapped otherwise she'd have ripped both M and Howe apart by now. She leaned down to study the ancient symbols and Angelic text. It writhed and roiled under her scrutiny — completely undecipherable. How had Howe managed it" M was more than a little perplexed and that made her quite angry. If Howe had been able to draw it than certainly she should be able to read it!

"What's the trick, Snake" How do I read this mish-mash garbally-gook?"

"Ya don't." Howe paused in his labors to grant M a smirk. "Ya ain't got the ability to do it. It don't matter anyway cuz it's time to get this show on the road."

M scowled at Howe, but realizing he had no intention of sharing currently she shrugged it off. She's sure she could get it out of him later. Besides, he was right about one thing: there was something far more important about to happen. She turned to bestow a smug grin at Bel.

"At long last — PAYBACK, Bitch!" M fairly frothed with pleasure when she spat this out at Bel.

Bel just stared at Moloch. She held on to sudden hope. The spell Corwyn had cast so long ago that had bestowed the power of the Holy Triumvirate upon her, Sid and himself might somehow save her from this situation — that and Howe's misuse of a resurrected corpse. Certainly the pair of them couldn't be that stupid?! But apparently they were. Yes, Bel still had hope and that was better than nothing.

Howe began the demonic incantation to raise the dead while he ladled the fresh blood from the bucket over the rags and bones that his minions had recovered for him from the grave of Lisa Jefferies. No Angelic Magic this - No, it was purely demonic and his expertise. He was in his element now and more than proud of himself. In his left hand he held the token Mab had given him which she had assured held the soul of the ever-pure Ms. Jefferies. Ah, this moment was full of so many avenues of revenge he couldn't keep count! Yes, Howe was feeling mighty pleased with himself and his manipulations.

His plan was simple, really. Resurrect the body then shove the soul back inside. It would make for the perfect sacrifice necessary to drive Bel out of her physical shell (her body), leaving it open for M to move in.

The rags saturated with the blood collapsed over the bones. Dust and debris mingled and the spoken words began to weave the magic to knit the body back together. Necromancy was most often reserved for the Necromancers but Howe had picked up a few tricks of his own. He didn't need no stinking, full-of-himself Necromancer for this job.

A slurping, bubbly noise rose from the bloody congealing mass. Some of Howe's best servants were reanimated dead; loyal and trustworthy not to mention crafted by his own hands. Beady eyes reflected the pleased thin-lipped grin as he watched the body take shape. A few pieces of bone that were misplaced sluggishly worked through the muck and gore back to their original positions. Howe's muttered question to himself earlier had been answered. Everything was going much better than he could have ever dreamed.

With the reanimation incantation done, Howe turned to M and nodded— her cue to begin her part of the ritual. Then his attention shifted back to the bloody mess of a half-finished body on the stone table. Time for the next phase: putting the soul inside.

M let a delighted smile caress her aged face. For the first time in centuries she looked Bel in the eyes. The words of the spell that would send the bitch back to Hades came easily to her lips. She'd been waiting for this moment a long, long time. Bel felt the tug of the demonic power but was not drawn into it like anticipated. No, something else happened instead — something none of them could have expected.

A throbbing white energy began to emit from Bel. At first it was only shards of light, sporadic and widely spaced shooting out of her in rays. She looked down at herself with wide green eyes filled with sudden fear. She had no idea what was happening — all she knew was this wasn't the expected result and she felt weird — really, really weird. But then reason and clear thinking were gone when that white-hot power began pouring out of her in a blinding blaze intense as the sun. She was engulfed by it. Her physical manifestation dissipated and Bel was swallowed by the surging energy. All that was left was the pulsing, growing power.

M backed up a step, then another to avoid the ever-widening white inferno. She struggled to continue the incantation even as dread overwhelmed her. This was NOT supposed to happen! The thought beat inside her head like a panicked bird. In a sudden rush the power exploded out. She took a few rapid steps away but it was too late — she was snatched up by it and forcibly wrenched off her feet.

Meanwhile, Howe was oblivious to what was going on behind his back. The glow of the unleashed energy lit up the inside of the derelict warehouse like a small sun. But he was so focused on what he was doing and consumed by his unadulterated glee at seeing his revenge manifest that it hadn't yet registered. He remained poised over the corpse until the final second before the skin could knit closed. He then thrust the token into its chest and spoke the spell's conclusion to release the soul from its prison and embed it into the body. The corpse screamed as Howe pulled his hand free. It rolled to and fro as if in terrible agonizing pain. Consciousness lit upon the skinless face contorting it into a mask of unmitigated terror, it was clearly aware and struggling to understand what was happening to it. The skin seemed to melt magically into place covering the mass of gore and bones with sickening pops, snaps and crackles.

The spells were at last complete! They were nearly done and then he would finally be free from the Bitch, Moloch! The visage of a whole Lisa lay before him on the blood soaked stone slab. His smile was twisted, cruel and triumphant as he wrapped both hands around the sacrificial blade and lifted it high overhead.

A scream was torn from M as the power pinned her in midair like a bug caught in spider's web. It had lifted her high up closer to the rafters than the floor. There she was, snared: suspended and immobile. The sound stilled Howe's hands in mid descent and at last the oddity of what was happening behind him filtered in to his brain. He turned to investigate. Beady eyes popped wide with surprise, his arms dropped limply to his sides; the sacrificial blade fell to the floor with a surprisingly loud clatter. Lisa and her sacrifice momentarily forgotten by the spectacle before him; M hanging in the air enveloped in nearly blinding light, no sign of Bel or her physical shell just that bright white throbbing light pulsating from the Angelic circle.

"What the hel..." He was able to mutter before the bucket slammed into the side of his head from behind. Howe was thrown off balance and went down hard.

A nude and bewildered Lisa didn't hesitate — she realized one thing very clearly; she was in terrible danger! Instinct kicked in. As Howe went down she jumped off the stone table and dashed towards the nearest doorway hoping against hope it was an exit. She moved with surprising speed and agility for a newly resurrected corpse made up of rags, bones and stolen blood.

Aunty M saw none of this. She was swathed in the ever-expanding white light. Her thoughts were burnt away like paper tossed into flames as the power coursed through her filling her to the brim. An odd thing was happening to her body; it was repairing itself. The shell she had prized for so long had started to regress in age — it was everything she could have wished for but she was in no shape to notice or understand. What reason she once had was in tatters shredded by the intense white inferno cocooning her.

Howe sat up and tried to shake off the fog from the unexpected blow. "Damn physical shells, too f*cking fragile!" He muttered under his breath while meaty fingers probed the lump, inspecting the damage. He glimpsed the fleeing Lisa out of the corner of he eye. No, no, that wouldn't do! He lifted a hand and using demonic magic blocked her escape by sealing the exit. He regained his feet in time to realize that Lisa was the least of his concerns. The ever-expanding energy was upon him. Beady eyes widened with fear as he too was suddenly swallowed up into it.

(To Be Continued...)

"In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger." ― William Shakespeare, Henry V

Onyx House... Lankyn and Wylde were both used to being at the center of chaos — usually chaos they had a hand in orchestrating. The pair had brought down governments and created new regimes over their many centuries together. Often the actions they had taken would have made most at least uncomfortable but they had borne it with quiet determination; steadfast and true. Knowing the correct actions and taking them had bred in them confidence and a perseverance few could truly understand. Today, however, there was a nervous edge lingering in the room between them. So much hinged on what was about to happen and no one, not even they, knew what the consequences of their actions would be.

What they did know was it was all they had left to save their homeland from Mab and her insane forces. It had to work. Neither of them wanted to contemplate potential failure. It simply wasn't an option.

As they waited, Corwyn paced in tight short circles in front of the balcony doors. The action betrayed his disposition. A scowl had settled on his unaging brow and he appeared consumed by internal thoughts. A light knock at the door brought both men about. Corwyn came to a standstill, facing the door.

"Enter." The tone of his voice was confident and in control, no hint of his stress was allowed to taint it.

Lin Mae pushed open the door and stepped tentatively inside. She had no idea why she'd been summoned and her fear was evident in every line of her slight body. She gave the two elves a weak smile.

"I was told....you....ah, wanted to see....me?"

"Yes, Lin Mae. Please come in and don't be afraid. Please make yourself comfortable." Corwyn's voice had taken on a soothing quality as he gestured towards a comfortable looking chair near the fireplace.

Lin Mae looked from the imposing figure of Lankyn to the chair. She was grateful he offered as her legs were feeling rather unsteady beneath her. It would be awful if she toppled over and made a total fool of herself. There was something about the tall elegant elf that frightened her to her very core — he is not what he seems her intuition shouted, this creature is dangerous; very, very dangerous! She moved almost too quickly to the chair praying she'd get there without incident. Relief flooded her as she sat.

Corwyn moved to stand beside the girl. A graceful, long fingered hand fell to her shoulder to give the girl a comforting squeeze. "There is an issue that I need you to look in to for me. Are you up for it, child?"

Lin Mae nodded as the uneasiness inside her grew by leaps and bounds. Her nightmares of late were not full of hope nor wonder but death and destruction. If he asked, she would feel compelled to speak truth. She really hoped he wasn't interested in any of that! Whatever "that" was....for even she was uncertain what her visions were actually trying to convey.

Corwyn handed Lin Mae a small orb, but said nothing. She looked at the orb somewhat puzzled, then up to Corwyn. Yet before words could form her question, the vision assailed.

Unlike her typical visions, she was not asleep or in a meditative trance. This one seemed to sweep over her in a wave so strong she felt helpless in its wake.

There was a dome, a large but invisible dome so tightly shut that even air seemed unable to penetrate it. Inside, there was a land torn by the obvious signs of war. Many lay dead or wounded. Outside was....literally everything else. She sensed that she was outside of this place, looking in; like one might look into a snow globe. The war seemed to be blessedly over and she felt hope beginning to bloom for those inside. Then the vision shifted revealing a glowing ghost, a revenant of death, furious and raging. It was a woman, but she was not....whole. Confusion assailed Lin, there was something familiar about the specter yet she could not place it. The revenant was tapping into forbidden magics, dark and hidden, secrets best left buried. But there was more....the revenant held command over the very dead. It was then that the eyes of the revenant fell on Lin and she knew the unnatural creature somehow could see her. Fear engulfed the girl.

Get a hold of yourself, Lin, she can't see you! She reassured herself mentally. Then it smiled and moved closer to Lin. The girl felt the chill of death emanating from the phantasm. "Where are you my sweet little weapon' You must be so near....But you didn't come alone, did you?" Anger transfigured the ghostly face as ethereal wisps, where hands should have been, reached out to ensnare Lin. A scream of utter panic ripped from her bringing her back to the room with the elegant imitation of an Elven lord and the one-eyed terror that served him.

Was nothing what it seemed in this world"! Lin Mae thought as she turned wide eyes upwards towards Lankyn. "I....I...ah.."

Corwyn hushed the girl gently with a firm yet gentle squeeze to her shoulder and a low intentionally soothing "Shhh." He took the orb from her with his free hand as a serene smile moved over chiseled features. "I saw as you did, Child. No need to explain."

The hidden tension the two men had been sharing suddenly faded. Trevinor's expression remained enigmatic. He gave Corwyn a nod then spun on his heels and strode out the door.

Corwyn gave Lin Mae a light pat on her shoulder before removing his hand. "You can go child. But..." He paused until his silver gaze captured hers. "She knows you're here, so stay inside the compound. I can keep you safe here."

Lin Mae took to her feet as quickly as she could and made for the door.

Safe here"! The Elf was not what he pretended to be.

She had so many questions, so many! But none she dared ask of the creature before her until she knew he could be trusted.

It seemed everyone she had met recently was something else, something not human. Just how safe was she really within their midst' Yet the vision of the revenant haunted her. Surely here she was safer than with that monster! Weapon, she'd called Lin. She was no weapon! There were so many mysteries and they kept on growing with no answers in sight. But for now Lin would settle on figuring out why that revenant was so familiar and what it thought it wanted from her.

Corwyn watched the girl leave. He sensed her confusion and growing curiosities but now was not the time for revelations — that would come soon enough.

Now was the time to prepare for war.

(To Be Continued...)

"Madness in great ones must not unwatched go." ― William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Mab lounged upon her throne of gilded gold, her expression distant and undecipherable. She was lost deep in thought. Her feet dangled over the hand rail and she swung them to and fro with a girlish air. She was quietly humming to herself. In her left hand, she held a red lollipop that she occasionally made a show of licking. All this pomp and circumstance was for nothing. She sat in her grand courtyard atop her shiny throne all alone. Her behaviors were little more than subconscious gestures, a decorative facade she had mastered over many centuries. Her act, which her manner nearly always was, impressed no one and invited nothing. It was merely a manifestation of her typical manipulations, so deeply embedded she did it without thought.

So many had already abandoned her and she could sense more wanted to leave. Then today, she'd lost contact with the Lands, leaving her no way to recruit others. She could not reach her armies and she was certain something horrible had happened. Finding the rest of her was getting more difficult by the moment. Despite the youthful and serene pose she artfully exuded; internally, she was seething. She knew this was His fault. He had always found ways to interfere with her goals! Apparently that hadn't changed!

Raphael, The Oberon, Corwyn or Long Lankyn — whatever name he goes by this century — was the proverbial thorn in her side.

Ever since she'd ridden the White Dragon out of the Dreaming, she'd felt her power waning. If she didn't find the prison in which Corwyn had locked her and free herself, she would continue to weaken. Of course, HE had only grown stronger! Howe had warned her of this. He'd said that Corwyn had "done" something to make him "untouchable". She had not listened. She'd been ripe and full of the power of the Dreaming then. But that power faded quickly. It was never her power to hold in the first place, although this thought never crossed her mind.

Oh, how she hated Howe! Hated him for everything he had, everything he was. He was not limited by his position or circumstance! He had freedom, unlike Mab. She was a prisoner to the poor choices she'd made. It was all Corwyn's fault! It was an easy conclusion to draw for Mab. If only the Oberon had been as malleable as she had expected him to be! She would have ruled over him, controlled the Lands and all they'd created. But he'd refused her advances and turned instead to the lily-livered, bleeding heart Hellene'! He left Mab out in the cold, fighting tooth and nail for every particle of control she could tear away from them. Howe had no such barriers. Whatever he wanted, he took with no remorse or consequence. The Demons reigned in Hell or Earth whereas she, not one of the fallen and purportedly pure, had to scrape and gasp like a dying fish out of water.

And yet....despite all the bad, there was one wonderful, shining triumph! She had felt it the moment it happened. Somewhere in the dankest recess of the unfathomable WestEnd, a haven where even her kind can become "lost", Howe had unknowingly unleashed one of Mab's most powerful weapons. A terror that would prey upon the unsuspecting, softhearted fools He'd, (Corwyn), arrogantly named TrueBloods. The terror now wears a familiar face and it will open doors that could not be breached otherwise. There she will wend her way to Mab's real target.

Howe had used the soul gem she'd given him. Well, she hadn't actually given it to him, had she? No, that was the dour necromancer's job; yet another fool with daydreams of what once was. He did not understand that he was more powerful now than he could ever have been when mortal! Yet still he clung to his humanity like a coveted mantle. He held the consciousness of a human. He desired redemption — an idea many of her damned Fallen brothers and sisters also continued to attain. What a waste, she would tell them all, if it would not reveal her true nature.

Soon, very soon she would be the one laughing. Howe had no idea he was doing her silent bidding and that what he had unleashed would be the downfall of the Oberon himself. Mab's calculated manipulations had set the perfect ambush for her assassin to take advantage. Once the Oberon fell, she would dispose of his first whore, Hellene', but for now she wanted her alive — to witness the downfall of her once beloved. Then Mab will be the last remaining of the Original Three and the Lands would be hers to do with whatever she wished!

Yet in this moment, she felt only a growing fury. It left dust in her mouth that tasted empty and lifeless. Without those to worship her, she was merely a whisper of the greatness she felt was her rightful due. She could not allow anymore of her servants to leave. No, she had no other choice. She would have to sacrifice some of what little power she had remaining to trap them here in this void she'd created. It was the only way.

The image she painted was of a merry girl bouncing to her feet, as if off on some childish adventure. Not a care in the worlds. She skipped from the dais to the earthen ground below and began to dance. Her feet drew intricate lines in the fertile soil, layering ancient runes of Forbidden Magic to close and seal. All the while, her smile was playfully mischievous and, some might even had said, angelic. When the runes were in place, she began her incantation with a low murmur of song that no one was near enough to hear. Passage from her dimensional rift was tightly closed. There was no escape now for those remaining.

In her own mind, her powers were Godlike, her motives' unquestionable, even if they were dark and selfishly motivated. She believed that those they had created were meant only to serve just as the angels had been created to serve their Creator. It was time they began to learn their lessons, for soon enough, all of the Lands would be required to. This time she was going to win and He was going to lose.

Unbeknownst to Mab, she was not alone and her actions did not go unseen. Two servant girls watched from the safety of the kitchen. They were two of eighteen servants left inside the dimension rift and they were smart enough not to let on that they were watching.

Ileah turned to Fa'thea and shook her head slowly while rolling her eyes. Her expression mirrored what Fa'thea thought. She was getting crazier if such a thing was possible. Fa'thea merely frowned in response, while her fingers toyed with the parchment inside her apron pocket. They should have left when Erich and Ye'eld had. But they had stayed for a reason. They both heard the whispers of their true Mistress speaking calmly inside their heads and they both knew what they had to do. It was prophesied. But now was not the time.

'Patience in all things', the voice whispered, 'Do not lose hope! You are our instruments of her undoing. The time is drawing near. You have borne witness. Everything is as it should be.'

Fa'thea trusted that voice and she had witnessed what she'd been told would happen, as unlikely and unsettling as it was. She released the small rolled parchment, pulled her hand free from her apron pocket and returned to her kitchen chores as if it were any other day.

"With friends like these, who needs enemies?" - English Proverb

Inside a warehouse somewhere in the WestEnd...

The first thing he noticed when he came "round was that it was incredibly dark but then again, right before the dark, it had been blindingly bright! He had no idea how much time had passed. Had it only been a few seconds" Had it been longer"! Maybe his eyes were still blown from the intense white light' All this he reasoned as he began assessing if there was any physical damage to his shell. The process was proving harder than it should have been. Howe couldn't seem to focus his thoughts.

He recalled being in the warehouse. There was some kind of ritual"

Yeah, yeah! It was beginning to come back to him in snippets. But Howe's head was throbbing and it kept distracting him. It wasn't a painful kind of throb. This was the throb of intense power surging through him. It felt wonderful but alien. This wasn't his power" Oh, but it felt good!

Wait, where's M" She should be here"

Howe's eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, leaving him practically blind as he managed to hoist his amble bulk to his feet.

"M?" He called out in something akin to a stage whisper. "Where are ya, Bitch"!" He heard a scuffle off to his left, it was low and furtive but something was there and it was alive. He could smell it, hear the blood pumping through its veins. Yes, the power moving inside of him was incredible indeed! He turned his head towards the sound when somewhere in front of him, the opposite direction of the mortal sounding critter, he heard M.

"I'm here, you fucking sick bastard! What the hell was that"!" M snapped. He could hear her moving closer towards him. "What the hell happened to the lights in this dump"!"

"I think Bel got loose." Howe ignored M's stupid questions. How the hell was he supposed to know what just happened"! That damn angel Gabriel set me up, that's what happened! Oh, Howe was going to make sure that angel paid!

"Bel"! Are you serious"! Did you miss the big finale" You know" When she erupted into a ball of pulsating energy and ate us both up"! Bel is gone, doggie, and I am not sure whether I want to reward you or kick you until your eyes fall out of your head!" M hissed in response.

"Well, something is in here with us. I can hear it fucking moving." Howe turned blindly towards the sound. As Howe stumbled through the darkness towards the sound, he realized that M had suddenly gone very quiet. As if lifting a curtain, the events that had transpired earlier in the warehouse came roaring back to him. He knew who was making those mortal sounds!

"LISA!" Howe shouted angrily taking a few more steps towards the sounds. He didn't get far, as suddenly, their world exploded with light. Dust and debris rained down around Howe shrouding him in a suffocating fog. He realized he could see. As he looked around, he knew almost instinctively that M was gone. In a blink she'd whisked herself away without another word to Howe.

Yes, of course she would abandon me at the first sign of trouble.

The breathing, blood-pumping mortal sounds had indeed been the newly resurrected Lisa. Howe saw her covered in gore and dirt, naked as the day she'd been born. She was creeping like a scared bunny out of the back of the ruined warehouse. The old thin walls of the place had been blown out by whatever it was that caused the explosion. All that was left was the skeleton of the building and a roof that looked as if it might collapse at any moment. He took one more menacing step towards the girl before he smelled them. Crymmsun and Lusiphur were nearby with a handful of elves.

Of course. The Bloods to the rescue!

Howe scowled darkly. Then suddenly a sly cruel smile alit on thin hard lips. Bel was no more. He'd be very proud right now if he knew how he'd done it. He considered teleporting away but then all the lovely power surging through him gave him pause. This power may be enough to destroy the lot of them and Howe couldn't pass up an opportunity like this " it simply wasn't in his nature!

Howe turned his back on Lisa. Let her scuttle away like the dirty little rat she is, he thought, I'll track her down when I'm done with these other pests. He turned from one prey to the other instead.

This is gonna be one hell of a party! He thought as he prepared himself for battle. It was in that moment that he heard it, the faintest of heartbeats somewhere to the left of him. Beady eyes darted in the direction of that weak sound and widened with surprise and, yes, anger.

"What the fuc?" he began but the snap of a gunshot echoing and the bloom of blood as the bullet ripped open his chest cut the sentence short. Howe turned to face his assailants" with bloodlust reddening his eyes his shell already splitting apart as his true visage began to emerge.

(To Be Continued?)

"Sooner or later comes a crisis in our affairs, and how we meet it determines our future happiness and success. Since the beginning of time, every form of life has been called upon to meet such crisis." - Robert Collier

There is, there was, a beginning to this story. Gabriel remembered quite clearly the moment he knew he hated Raphael. Gabriel was the Left Hand of God, the one that metes out violent justice, who stands with sword held over soul, he is righteous anger and the call of God's Vengeance. He was among the first to be created and given less of a choice than those that would come later, like Raphael. Gabriel hated Raphael because everything Gabriel represented Raphael was the complete opposite. He was God's Healer, the hand of compassion and forgiveness. There was no vengeance in Raphael. He was free of that force. He was free of the violence that drove Gabriel.

And Gabriel hated him for it.

The rain had started falling mere seconds after the explosion that rocked the WestEnd. It was an odd storm, hitting in patches here and there, whirling like a dervish, like a misplaced hurricane, over the WestEnd. The epicenter seemed to be the warehouse where the explosion had occurred. Gabriel was unaware of everything around him, including the falling rain. He instead was reeling from the jarring intensity of angelic energy that was threatening to rip him apart.

Images of Sid held tight under his hands as he took from her everything he could in a moment of hate-filled lust. The image of Belial's battered face, blood leaking from swollen lips as she begged him to stop right before she made him stop. He hadn't understood how she had done it at the time, but he'd drawn all kinds of conclusions. These images were burning into his thoughts like brands from hell fire. He felt himself slipping and then he was falling.

Falling away"

The abyss was dark, empty, bereft of life. Not a single sound, nor echo. He was utterly alone and panic overtook him. Even in the waiting halls of vast nothingness Gabriel couldn't stand what he was created to be. He wanted to deny it, to turn a blind eye on his Duty, to pretend he'd been gifted another job, so to speak. But here in this place it was unavoidable. All that he is, or ever was, stared back at him. He was nothing more than a murderous vengeful thug of God. It was all he had been, and all he could have ever hoped to be no matter how hard he tried to make it otherwise.

The power of the Holy Triumvirate filled him to the brim, dragging him kicking and screaming into the holy of holist treaties. And he knew as that power flooded through him, taking him into it, he knew"

He knew everything...

The truth of what Raphael had done and how he'd saved Belial from Gabriel so long ago. Every lie, every manipulation Raphael had committed against him and Michael were laid bare before Gabriel. Along with this new found knowledge came another revelation; everything Gabriel knew of Raphael, Raphael knew of him too.

He would have to face his crimes; there was no escaping them now.

Gabriel had tried hard to change. He wanted to be something, someone, which his Star would want to fall back to. Viki" she had been his redemption, the reason he'd begun to court feelings of compassion, charity and kindness. His Star had given him new hope, and Gabriel had convinced himself this was God's plan all along. To reward his chosen with love and a new life " to allow Gabriel a choice he'd never been given before. He wanted to believe it and had clung to it as he moved through his human life. He had even stopped hating humans and began instead to prize them, to see them as worthy and wise.

Or so he told himself in the dark corners of the night as he gazed up longingly at the stars, willing her to return. He knew such an attitude would please Viki.

Now, trapped in this hell of emptiness he realized he'd been fooling himself. He didn't understand compassion or kindness, not then certainly. They were foreign and alien to him as they were meant to be. They were never his to hold. He had not been created to experience them. How could God have been so cruel" Even as the question formed, he already knew the answer. God gave him what he needed to perform his Duty and those feelings would have hindered, perhaps even hurt him. That would have been far crueler of God to have done.

As these new feelings, these new emotions, began to flood through Gabriel, he heard the softest of sounds beside him. A low whisper that later he would wonder if he imagined it.

"To all - good things will come - in time?"

And then Gabriel found himself standing outside the gate of Blood House Onyx. How he had gotten there was a mystery, one that may never be solved. Around him the storm raged. Dark clouds burst forth the rain, cold and forceful, gouging the earth with its fluid purity, washing away all his past sins in a harsh almost scalding torrent.

He knew judgment waited inside.

He could feel Raphael's anger roiling up, ready to devour him. It was justified. He understood that Raphael knew all Gabriel had done. He realized that Sid knew too. It was time to pay the piper. If he managed to survive what was to come, Gabriel recognized that he had at last been given everything he had ever prayed for.

Perhaps now he could be the soul that would be worthy of his Star"

As he stepped towards the gate, a realization struck him: what of Belial" He knew she had been a part of the Holy Union" or at least had been" He was taking her place in it. He knew this as if he'd always known it. The Union came with knowledge inborn. He had never been very fond of her, had in fact gone out of his way to destroy her on many occasions. He had even used her brutally after he'd tossed her from Heaven for committing no real crimes. He owed her the greatest apology of all" And this insight may have come too late.

"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster....for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Howe watched as the ceiling gave and began tumbling down. It reminded him of the story of the Three Little Pigs and how the Big Bad Wolf had blown down their houses. Yes, he liked thinking of himself as the Big Bad Wolf. There was little else he could do as Luse was too far away to reach and Sun seemed untouchable" at least for the moment. He leered as debris rained down around them and the sound of the walls beginning to give was more than welcome. Until he spied Wulf carrying something, no someone small, in his arms.

Howe roared in anger and laboriously attempted to make his way towards the fleeing Blood. His demon form may be big and impressive but it was also slow and hard to maneuver especially in close, tight quarters. Debris hindered his progress but he knew he had to reach that Blood before it got away! It was likely Belial in that Blood's arms. He wasn't letting go of her. If he was going down then she was too. All of this was her fault after all, or so Howe told himself as he struggled after them.

Chaos rained down upon the elite Blood assassin as the roof disintegrated, but Luse didn't seem to notice. He was perfectly still, calm, cool, collected; a cold-blooded killer. Thick dust filled the space between the warehouse walls even as they began to topple. It didn't daunt the Blood. His gun was held steady as his eyes tracked the shadow of his prey. Luse took in a deep stilling breath then fired.

The crack was loud in the sudden stillness of the warehouse.

Sun's sickly green energy had finally woven its way inside of Howe's hulking form. Tendrils stretched from Sun's green glowing orb into the very fabric of Howe's demonic flesh. He was beginning to pulsate with the sickly color. He was so blindly intent on following after Wulf that he had lost track of Luse. The bullet tore through the demon's eye socket and the green energy began to pour out of Howe and straight back to Sun. The circle was complete and the process had begun. The intensity of Howe's power lifted Sun up off her feet and hung her suspended in the air as his energy began feeding in to her.

Howe lurched to one side and began to topple earthward. In mere seconds Luse was beside him, revolver held under Howe's chin. Luse didn't hesitate. He fired.

Howe realized too late, he'd lost. His one remaining eye widened at the sight of Luse but he couldn't stop the assassin. Luse was simply too fast. The gun fired and Howe's demon brains rained down around them just as the walls gave. The tendrils snapped back to Sun as Howe's life force was sucked into her. With the nature of her beast she landed easily and was already on the move. She felt invigorated, full of power and energy; full of dark, demonic influence. Yes, there was going to be quite a price to pay for eating a sizable portion of Howe's corrupt life-force, Sun knew this only too well.

Sun wasn't as highly trained as Luse but she was a product of her nature nonetheless. She was quick and light on her feet like her spirit animal. She was suddenly beside Luse just as the walls came down, encircling him with her protective field keeping them both safe from the rain of wreckage. A brief exchange of looks no words spoken but the air hung heavy between them. So much history could never be forgotten or pushed aside. Luse gave Sun his signature smirk as he pulled her to him. The kiss was passionate, yet tasted of the anger that lingered. It was brief, as if they both realized what was happening and quickly separated. But a new dynamic had been born between them and an old injustice had at last been rectified.

There may never be a road back to what they once shared. But they both knew in that moment that there was still something there. Not even all that has happened could erase what they felt for one another. Perhaps this was a start to a new kind of relationship" Better than the cold silence that has hung between them for so long to be sure.

Sun gave Luse a brilliant smile as she summoned the door to her Nether. The power surging inside her was beginning to tug at her mind with a ferocity unfelt before and she knew she had mere minutes before she would be overwhelmed. It was time to get back to the House as quickly as possible. She had no idea what Howe's energy was going to do to her.

There is always a cost to these things" Sun knew well enough the fallout she faced. She could only hope the outcome was worth the price. They needed to hurry home before the traits began to manifest.

"After you, m'sweet' Sun gestured to the opening. Luse grinned and hopped inside.

"Here Spot, here!" He called out as he moved down the corridor. Sun smiled in fond memory and quickly followed after him.

**************************** "Every end is a new beginning." ~ Ancient Proverb

Few in the House outside of Bel, Luse and Lankyn knew of Sun's peculiarities" all caused by Doc's maniac experiments. Wulf was among the many. He was completely clueless. He barely knew Sun since she'd been away the last six years on some kind of "walkabout" as Bel called it. Wulf didn't particularly like Luse; the long-eared Elf was distant, cold and off-putting at the best of times. It didn't matter. He still felt obliged to help those in his Family Blood. It would suit his nature to aid in the disposal of Howe too. He was itching to get into that fight.

Once he got Bel outside he realized he couldn't wake her up. He looked at the collapsing warehouse then down at his charge. It was going to be over very soon anyway. There really wasn't anything he could do to help now. It was a real struggle for this hero of ours. He wanted to rush back into the fray, see the end of the notorious Howe, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Bel lying on the cold ground alone. With one last look towards the ruins of the warehouse he hoped those left inside would be victorious. And that they would get out alive. But for him, this party was over. He needed to get Bel back to the House and into the hands of the Healers before it was too late.

Wulf hated teleporting more than just about anything else, but in times of dire need like this, it was the best option. His fingers played over his Blood pin and in a blink of an eye the pair vanished.

******************************

As the dust began to settle the hulking remains of the demon began to dry up and crumble becoming one with the grimy ruins of the warehouse. Only the lingering taint of demonic magic was left to remind those able to sense it of what might have happened in the murky depths. But this was the WestEnd " and these kinds of tales of magic and mayhem happened a lot. The debris littering the ruined warehouse would likely be swept away in the next big storm to roll in off the ocean from the Dockside and this story will be left only a memory for those that were there and managed to survive.

At long last, the vile Mister Howe had been vanquished. Perhaps this truly was the end of him' Or maybe not' Some evil never dies.

You just can't keep a good demon down.

The End" "

((Author's Note: Much thanks to all the Blood Players, Julie, Gen, Tracy, David and Rick, I couldn't have written any of this without all of you, your invaluable input, roleplay and awesome creations.

This story continues in our next major Blood thread "Prelude to War: Revelations?. Enjoy!

Until next time....Merry Gaming, Kittens! Stay safe, stay empowered and have fun! Lan))