((Takes place parallel to the events of Dancing with a Demon.))
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Adam had been quiet for a long time. Too long, in Nat's mind. She hadn't stopped pacing, too anxious to simply sit in the silence that hung heavily around the stillness that was Rhys' most trusted friend. Her boots crunched in the salt she had spilled under Adam's instructions as she moved back and forth, whistling through her teeth as she tossed her twin blades form hand to hand. She wanted action, she wanted to be able to do something ....but like everyone who knew demons, she didn't want to come face to face with the condemned who wanted them dead.
Biting at her lip, she looked down at Adam's still, silent form. "Come on," she murmured, her voice tense and uncomfortable. "Come back."
Adam was quiet - too quiet, maybe - the calm before the storm. As far as Natalya could see, he was the epitomy of calm, and it was hard to tell where his consciousness was, if he could hear her or not. Far away, lost in a place where he couldn't be reached, at least, for now. They had taken every possible precaution, but both of them knew they were playing a dangerous game and taking a big risk - a risk they had no choice in taking and that they hoped would pay off. Minutes ticked by, seeming like hours. Nearly an hour Adam sat there motionless, as still as a statue, while clouds slowly gathered outside, a storm approaching.
Muttering to herself under her breath in the Russian that made Adam so uncomfortable when he was conscious, Nat tucked her blades back into the sheaths at her hips, reaching up to let her hair free from the claw that was pinching at her scalp. The longer Adam was gone, the jumpier she was getting, the more aware of how far away Rhys was - how far both men were from her protection. The darkening sky outside the window drew her attention, and she returned to linger there, frowning as she watched storm clouds gathering over the town, tourists and locals running for shelter as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. Had she been one of them, she might not have thought anything of it ....but Nat was one of the few who walked on both sides of the line between natural and supernatural. She knew a demon storm when she saw it.
Clouds were gathering outside, fast approaching the town, omninous in shape and nature. Dark, black, billowing clouds that any hunter would recognize as a demon storm. There was little shelter to be found during such a storm. One could only hope the storm passed overhead, the demons searching for something other than them. The sound of thunder warned of the storm's approach, moving at an unnaturally rapid speed, looking more like black smoke than mere storm clouds. And then the wind picked up from the west, whirling and hissing ominously like a thousand demonic voices all crying out at once in a hideous menacing chorus that drove fear into even the most courageous of souls.
Curses in Russian were at best gutteral, at worst incomprehensible. This was an occasion when the worst came to bear, spilling from Nat's lips in a low hiss as she backed away from the window, glancing to and fro, looking for something she could use to keep out what was obviously going to force its way in. Her hands dropped to her hips, drawing the twin athames from their sheaths once again as she braced herself, standing deliberately between Adam's silent body and the vulnerable windows. "Adam, now would be a very good time to wake up."
It was too late to stop it, too late to do anything but face the storm head on. The shadows gathered just as Nat stepped away from the window, and there was a sudden earth-shattering boom of thunder, lightning flashing across the sky, a storm the likes of which had no natural cause. Shadows gathered outside the window, insubstanial dark shapes surrounding the building, descending like a dark, black cloud of smoke. And then an unnatural gust of wind, joined by the echo of demonic voices, shattered the window of the room and every window in the building with a deafening crash of glass and metal.
"Adam ..."
Her warning came too late. The booming thunder overwhelmed her voice, setting the building to shaking so violently that she was knocked to one knee. Fear bloomed for a brief moment, replaced with a fury that any creature would dare to challenge her here of all places, in this space she had chosen to make her own. The light dimmed, her only warning of what was to come, and suddenly the air was filled with shattering glass, fragments shooting toward her and Adam's body with more purpose than any random event should have.
Nat let out a scream of defiance, lurching to cover Adam's body with her own, protecting the vulnerable man as glass debris scored over her leather coat, tore into her jeans, and ripped open bloody gashes in her neck, her hands, her scalp, her cheek. Shaking the glass from her hair, ignoring the sting as blood trickled from those new injuries, she pushed herself back onto her feet, turning her face into the howling wind. "Come on, then, if you're coming! I am not afraid of you!"
The wind howled again as if in answer to her challenge, blowing the salt away from the windows, throwing open the door and doing the same, the insubstantial shapes twisting and turning, too many to keep track of, moving this way and that, until a score of them found purchase, claiming bodies of innocents and turning them to their own purpose, no longer human, only shells of their former selves. Poor, pitiful creatures doomed to harbor a demon, while their own soul cried out helplessly for mercy inside a body that was no longer theirs.
The salt was as much a weapon for the demons now as it had been a defense against them, forcing Nat to close her eyes or be blinded, stinging in the bleeding wounds inflicted by the glass that now lay scattered over the floor around her. One hand shook at Adam's shoulder even as she stared toward the shapes crowding outside the door. "Adam ....Adam, come back! I can't stop them on my own!"
Adam had been quiet for a long time. Too long, in Nat's mind. She hadn't stopped pacing, too anxious to simply sit in the silence that hung heavily around the stillness that was Rhys' most trusted friend. Her boots crunched in the salt she had spilled under Adam's instructions as she moved back and forth, whistling through her teeth as she tossed her twin blades form hand to hand. She wanted action, she wanted to be able to do something ....but like everyone who knew demons, she didn't want to come face to face with the condemned who wanted them dead.
Biting at her lip, she looked down at Adam's still, silent form. "Come on," she murmured, her voice tense and uncomfortable. "Come back."
Adam was quiet - too quiet, maybe - the calm before the storm. As far as Natalya could see, he was the epitomy of calm, and it was hard to tell where his consciousness was, if he could hear her or not. Far away, lost in a place where he couldn't be reached, at least, for now. They had taken every possible precaution, but both of them knew they were playing a dangerous game and taking a big risk - a risk they had no choice in taking and that they hoped would pay off. Minutes ticked by, seeming like hours. Nearly an hour Adam sat there motionless, as still as a statue, while clouds slowly gathered outside, a storm approaching.
Muttering to herself under her breath in the Russian that made Adam so uncomfortable when he was conscious, Nat tucked her blades back into the sheaths at her hips, reaching up to let her hair free from the claw that was pinching at her scalp. The longer Adam was gone, the jumpier she was getting, the more aware of how far away Rhys was - how far both men were from her protection. The darkening sky outside the window drew her attention, and she returned to linger there, frowning as she watched storm clouds gathering over the town, tourists and locals running for shelter as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. Had she been one of them, she might not have thought anything of it ....but Nat was one of the few who walked on both sides of the line between natural and supernatural. She knew a demon storm when she saw it.
Clouds were gathering outside, fast approaching the town, omninous in shape and nature. Dark, black, billowing clouds that any hunter would recognize as a demon storm. There was little shelter to be found during such a storm. One could only hope the storm passed overhead, the demons searching for something other than them. The sound of thunder warned of the storm's approach, moving at an unnaturally rapid speed, looking more like black smoke than mere storm clouds. And then the wind picked up from the west, whirling and hissing ominously like a thousand demonic voices all crying out at once in a hideous menacing chorus that drove fear into even the most courageous of souls.
Curses in Russian were at best gutteral, at worst incomprehensible. This was an occasion when the worst came to bear, spilling from Nat's lips in a low hiss as she backed away from the window, glancing to and fro, looking for something she could use to keep out what was obviously going to force its way in. Her hands dropped to her hips, drawing the twin athames from their sheaths once again as she braced herself, standing deliberately between Adam's silent body and the vulnerable windows. "Adam, now would be a very good time to wake up."
It was too late to stop it, too late to do anything but face the storm head on. The shadows gathered just as Nat stepped away from the window, and there was a sudden earth-shattering boom of thunder, lightning flashing across the sky, a storm the likes of which had no natural cause. Shadows gathered outside the window, insubstanial dark shapes surrounding the building, descending like a dark, black cloud of smoke. And then an unnatural gust of wind, joined by the echo of demonic voices, shattered the window of the room and every window in the building with a deafening crash of glass and metal.
"Adam ..."
Her warning came too late. The booming thunder overwhelmed her voice, setting the building to shaking so violently that she was knocked to one knee. Fear bloomed for a brief moment, replaced with a fury that any creature would dare to challenge her here of all places, in this space she had chosen to make her own. The light dimmed, her only warning of what was to come, and suddenly the air was filled with shattering glass, fragments shooting toward her and Adam's body with more purpose than any random event should have.
Nat let out a scream of defiance, lurching to cover Adam's body with her own, protecting the vulnerable man as glass debris scored over her leather coat, tore into her jeans, and ripped open bloody gashes in her neck, her hands, her scalp, her cheek. Shaking the glass from her hair, ignoring the sting as blood trickled from those new injuries, she pushed herself back onto her feet, turning her face into the howling wind. "Come on, then, if you're coming! I am not afraid of you!"
The wind howled again as if in answer to her challenge, blowing the salt away from the windows, throwing open the door and doing the same, the insubstantial shapes twisting and turning, too many to keep track of, moving this way and that, until a score of them found purchase, claiming bodies of innocents and turning them to their own purpose, no longer human, only shells of their former selves. Poor, pitiful creatures doomed to harbor a demon, while their own soul cried out helplessly for mercy inside a body that was no longer theirs.
The salt was as much a weapon for the demons now as it had been a defense against them, forcing Nat to close her eyes or be blinded, stinging in the bleeding wounds inflicted by the glass that now lay scattered over the floor around her. One hand shook at Adam's shoulder even as she stared toward the shapes crowding outside the door. "Adam ....Adam, come back! I can't stop them on my own!"