Whether Rhys had slept the night before had proved itself to be entirely irrelevant when Natalya had woken. Galvanized by the prospect of simultaneously saving a friend and clearing out a nest of demons from his childhood home, he had been eager to get to work, and after a relatively quick breakfast, had given her just enough time to collect the obsidian demonstone from the car before heading off in the direction of the shop Vadim had told her about the night before. And if she was entirely honest, Nat didn't mind this rush of action. Her dreams had not been the most calming, knowing there was a nest of demons very near by. As they walked, she glanced at him often, and finally just blurted out her curious query. "What did Adam have to say last night?"

Rhys had been quiet most of the morning, as was his way when he was either focused on a hunt or feeling moody, a little lost in his own thoughts. He didn't really mean to shut Nat out from his inner monologue, but before he could share his thoughts, he had to understand them himself. Breakfast had helped and had found them back at the same diner from the previous evening, though Rhys was in no mood for meatloaf this morning. He made a point of eating a big hearty breakfast, which Denny's had coined "The Grand Slam", and though this wasn't Denny's, he found the food just as good and just as hearty. That was joined by an endless cup of coffee, and when he was finally finished, his mood seemed to have improved. "He thanked me for not getting him out of bed too late," Rhys replied with a chuckle as they walked hand in hand away from the diner in the direction of the little magic shop he had no previous knowledge of. But then, magic and spellwork weren't really his forte. He left most of that to Adam and Natalya.

She stuck her tongue out at him, since he knew she'd gotten a tongue lashing from Vadim the night before for getting him out of bed to answer her query, but laughed, squeezing his hand fondly. "Apart from that?"

The chuckle died on his lips as he turned serious in answer to her question. "He said Dylan's basement is where Dylan did all his dirty work." He wasn't sure he needed to go into detail about that. While some people had offices or garages or workshops, hunters were known to have secret places where they performed their "art", so to speak, and apparently, the basement was Dylan's. Why Rhys hadn't remembered that little detail, he wasn't quite sure.

Nat frowned thoughtfully. She understood the phrase "dirty work" only as it applied to hunting in this scenario, though her father had had some pretty dirty work of his own that he enjoyed all over the apartment he had shared with his daughters. "Then is it possible that there is some form of permanent devil's trap down there?" she asked Rhys quietly. If there was, that made their task much easier.

"Oh, there's definitely a devil's trap down there. Adam said I must be repressing some memories or something. He said Dylan tried to keep me out of that part of things, but I must have followed him down there once. I don't really remember." He was still frowning and a little lost in thought. He'd spent the better portion of the morning and some of the night trying to remember the incident and had failed. Had it been that traumatizing that his mind had hidden it from his memory, or was it some residual amnesia left over from the car accident' Either way, it troubled him a little. He thought he'd known everything there was to know about Dylan and his childhood home, but apparently, he'd been wrong.

"Then it should be relatively easy for one of us to lure Aurelia down there," Nat considered. "Even if we can't get her into the trap, just salting the doors and windows would be enough to imprison her and keep her out of the way." She glanced up at Rhys in concern. "What is it?"

He blinked out of his reverie, half hearing Nat and half lost in his own thoughts. "Nothing. It just bugs me that I can't remember it, that's all. I should remember it, Nat. I lived there for seven years. How could I not remember it?" And perhaps more importantly, what else had Dylan kept secret from him"

"You were a child, and you were not ready to know what was being done down there," she reminded him gently. "Dylan was protecting you, and where he perhaps failed, your own mind is protecting you. I have told you before, have I not, that I do not actually recall seeing my mother's heart' I know I saw it, but my mind has protected me from that awful sight. I have no memory of it."

He accepted that with a quiet frown, and while her explanation made sense, he wasn't quite sure it was that simple, at least where he was concerned. He didn't really want to disagree with her though or say anything that would further encourage her to think about her mother. They had both suffered enough pain and grief. This was supposed to be about saying goodbye to Dylan, once and for all. "I guess," he replied at last, a little reluctantly.

"Did Adam have any advice?" she asked then, changing the subject back to the whole point of the initial conversational gambit. "Was he able to find any confirmation of what we found out last night, at all?"

"Yeah, he was actually," Rhys replied, thankful for the change of subject, though he knew he was going to have to deal with that missing memory sooner, rather than later. "He said there have been some reports of missing persons, but nothing all that unusual. Nothing that threw up a red flag, as far as he was concerned anyway. If they're here - and I don't doubt they are - they're keeping a pretty low profile."

She nodded. It wasn't much, but it was enough, and she had a feeling Adam wasn't going to let it go until he heard what had happened, one way or the other. "We should invite them around for dinner sometime soon," she suggested, one hand on the door to the shop they had been looking for. "When we are done here."

"Yeah, I guess we should," he agreed, his mood not what it was a day or so ago. He'd been dreading this trip as it was, and now it had turned into business. It wouldn't have bothered him so much, except that it seemed to have gotten personal again. It wasn't that he never wanted to hunt again. He believed in what he did and knew it was a worthwhile, if thankless, task. It was just the fact that it was happening in the town and the home where he'd spent the better part of his childhood growing up. He had more to say on the subject, but they'd arrived at the shop, and so, it would have to wait.

The shop itself was about as average new age and hippie-dippie as they come, with no specific focus on anything in particular. There weren't even hunter signs anywhere to be seen - it really was the brainchild of someone who had a vague idea about crystals and incense, and liked the books that proliferated in this particular genre. Nat had to work very hard to keep a straight face when a woman wearing what looked like a Victorian petticoat and a collection of jewelery that was a day away from tarnishing her skin green wandered into view, setting her hands together and bowing in greeting.

"Welcome to The New World," she greeted Rhys and Nat in a voice she probably thought was ethereal, but actually came across as painfully asthmatic. "Merry meet, and may the Goddess watch over you."

He ran a finger over the stone when she dropped it into his hand, finding it smooth, as she'd said. "How's it work?" he asked, curiously. Though he might have little knowledge of this sort of magic, that didn't mean it didn't interest him.

"I believe it will absorb the goodness Lailah infuses it with, and focus that goodness into Aurelia when she wears it," Nat explained. It was all theory, but as theories went, it was a pretty good one. And given that it had already worked on this particular person once, albeit years ago, it had a fairly high chance of working again. "The stone itself is used as protection against the influence of evil, which is probably why Aurelia wore it before."

He listened carefully to what she was telling him, trusting she was right. She'd never been wrong before. He was more concerned with how they'd get it around Aurelia's neck than with whether or not it would work. "You realize that without seeing the basement, I'm taking Adam at his word." If there was no devil's trap down there, they were going to be in big trouble. He handed the stone back so Nat could put it back in the bag for safe keeping. "Why'd you pay her in change?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Ah ..." Nat's smirk could be deemed devilish as she tucked the stone into her pocket. "Can I get away with saying that it is not exactly legal tender?" she asked sweetly, batting her lashes as she looked up at him.

He laughed at her explanation. "I should have known. Once a thief, always a thief." Though she hadn't exactly stolen the stone, she had definitely swindled the woman out of it. "Serves her right. I almost puked!" he reiterated again, though he was laughing now. He didn't bother to point out that it had been his own damned fault for poking his nose around where it shouldn't have been.

"Well, I am hardly in any shape to go actually stealing what I need right now," she defended herself with a giggle. "So I thought I would defraud her instead. She has precisely one genuine dime in that handful of change I gave her, and the best part is that she won't realize it until tomorrow morning. When the spell wears off, she will have a small collection of soap chips in her cash register."

He laughed again, leaning in to brush a kiss against her cheek. "I love you," he told her, just for the heck of it. She already knew, of course, but he never got sick of telling her. "So, what now, O Evil Genius?" he asked with a smirk, though she was about as far from evil as one could get.

Laughing herself, she hugged close into him, glad he had found something to smile about in her dastardly plan to serve the silly woman right. "Now we convince an angel to work her voodoo on a necklace," she grinned up at him. "And possibly work out a plan of action."

"Well, we can't very well do that here," he remarked, with a frown. It was a beautiful day, and it seemed a shame to waste it huddled in a crappy motel room, though he knew the sooner they got all this over the better. "There's something I wanted to show you while we're here," he said, though he wasn't sure she'd go for it. It wasn't really a necessary part of their visit, but he thought she might appreciate it just the same.

She looked up at him, her curiosity sparked by this implied interest. She could understand that preparing to storm his childhood home with an angel who might just decide to kill everyone there and then, and his pregnant wife, probably wasn't his idea of a good day. "We have time," she conceded softly. "What is it you want me to see?"

"It's kind of a surprise," he told her with a smirk, glad she was happy to go along with him, though he knew he was probably stalling a little. Still, if you didn't take time to smell the roses now and then, what was the point of roses" "We'll have to drive, though. We should switch motels, too. What would you think of a nice bed and breakfast?"

The surprise on her face was matched only by the delight. The motel they had stayed in last night really had been for necessity only. "I think that sounds like a lovely idea, milaya," she smiled, hugging his arm affectionately. "I did not want to say anything, but I think there was something in that bed with us last night."

He looked startled and even a little alarmed at her remark about the motel. "You're not serious!" he exclaimed, feeling suddenly itchy, the way you did when you thought too hard about creepy crawly things. For a man who hunted and defeated the worst Hell could throw at him, the thought of bedbugs was creeping him out.

"Well, there was that cockroach in the bathtub," she pointed out mildly. She hadn't wanted to make a fuss at the time, not wanting him to think that he was forcing her to slum it somewhere entirely unsuitable. After all, she was capable of handling the low end of the accommodation scale, even if she was used to the upper end. "I did not want to worry you, milaya."

He couldn't help but shudder. "That's it. It's decided! We're staying somewhere else tonight, and I have just the place in mind." He started back toward said roach motel with a purposeful stride, though slowly enough that his very pregnant wife could keep up. She deserved better than that, and it wasn't like they couldn't afford better accommodations.

She laughed at his shudder. "How is it you can face demons and witches, but crawlie creepies make you shudder and go pale?" she asked, genuinely amused by his rather sweet reaction to the idea of roaches.

"Because they're disgusting! I've spent enough time in crappy motels. You deserve better than that." Years, actually, hopping from one crappy motel to the next, without the means to stay anywhere better. Every now and then, he'd get lucky enough to afford a better place to stay, but most of the time it was either sleep in the car or rent a cheap somewhere, at least, while he was on the road. Was it any wonder he enjoyed the finer things in life now, since he had never had a chance to enjoy them before"

"I love you," she assured him with a small giggle, leaning into him. "So where are we sleeping tonight, I wonder" Some magical out of the way place that I am not allowed to know about until we reach it?"

"I'm not so sure I'd call it magical. Not really out of the way either. I've never actually stayed there myself, but I've heard it's nice. There are a couple of little known gems in town, if you know where to look," he replied. "Think we should have Lailah disinfect us first?" he asked with a smirk as they made their way back to said motel, where they'd left his car.

"I think we can do better than the car, don't you think?" he asked, smiling back at her, his heart feeling lighter now that they had changed their surroundings and weren't thinking or talking about the hunt that was about to take place later that evening. "Shall we?" he asked, kissing her again before pushing open his door to gather their bags and drag them inside.

"Oh, I think we shall." She laughed softly as he tore himself away, leaving her to maneuver herself out of the car in her own time. It was difficult enough now, she couldn't imagine what it was going to be like when she got any bigger. "Are you sure I am not allowed to carry one of the bags?" she asked a little plaintively, wanting to be useful and denied the opportunity.

Ah, but he wasn't going to let her do that on her own, circling around to the other side of the car to help his wife to her feet before turning his attention to the bags in the trunk. "I'm sure," he replied, pocketing his keys once he got the trunk open. He loved that car only marginally less than he did his wife, having rebuilt her himself, investing his own blood, sweat, and tears. He shouldered each bag before closing the trunk and pocketing the car keys to take a look around at the vast and very green grounds. "It's lovely here, isn't it' I forgot how this pretty this place can be. You should see it in autumn."

"Perhaps we will," she suggested, her tone mild and carefully not making plans already. "It would be a lovely place to mark some special occasion for us." She moved to join him, walking over the gravel toward the house itself. "This is a truly beautiful place, Rhys. Why did it not come up on the hotel search I did?"

"I don't know," he replied, furrowing his brows in puzzlement. "Maybe it did, and I didn't notice. It's a little expensive, but we can afford it." It felt a bit weird to be saying that, but it was true, and he wondered if he'd ever get used to knowing that so long as he was with Natalya, money would never be an issue again. "I'm not used to places like this. It never really occurred to me to stay here." Or maybe he had just been too distracted with thoughts about Dylan and his childhood to think of it.

"You should get used to it," she told him fondly. "You deserve the finer things in life, and I will introduce you to them, no matter your view on the subject. And do not forget, we are attending a charity ball next month. I intend to make you well known in the right circles as a true philanthropist."

"So long as it's not caviar," he teased back with a grin, which was followed by a chuckle at the idea of him at a charity ball. "You realize it's a losing battle to try and make a gentleman of me," he said as he made their way along a walkway toward the main entryway.

"I don't want you to be a gentleman," she assured him cheerfully, falling into step with him easily enough. "I want you to stop feeling out of place amidst the sort of luxury we are now sharing. And I want to show you off. No one else in New York has a husband as wonderful as mine. Can you blame me for wanting to lord you over all the socialites?"

"Well," he started, a tiny smirk appearing on his face. "I won't deny that I am a good catch." They reached the front door and stepped inside, finding the interior of the inn as lovely as the exterior. For once in his life, Rhys was actually speechless, only able to whistle in appreciation and mutter a quiet, "Wow."

"Goodness ..." Beside him, Natalya had come to a halt as well, soaking in the light, airy atmosphere of the place they stood in. It was rare that she could be stopped in her tracks by a beautiful place, but for some reason this place had done just that. She smiled once again, hugging Rhys' arm tenderly. "This is a truly wonderful place, milaya."

"Beats the hell out of the motor inn." And most other places he'd stayed in previous to this, outside of the swanky hotels they'd enjoyed in Europe courtesy of Natalya.

She giggled softly, her eye caught by the sitting room arranged off to the side. With a gentle squeeze of his fingers, she wandered in that direction, captivated by the view for a long moment before her attention fell to the piano that stood nearby. She couldn't resist, opening the lid and stroking the keys before picking out the chords for a piece of Mozart.

He followed her further into the house, arching a brow when she went to the piano and plinked a few keys to some half-recognized tune. He wasn't cultured enough to know it was Mozart, but he was a little surprised to find she seemed to know her way around a piano as well as he did a guitar. "You play?" he asked, setting the bags down and joining her at the piano. Whoever owned and operated the place hadn't come to greet them yet, but he knew it wouldn't be long before the sound of the piano drew someone's attention.

"A little." She smiled up at him, setting her other hand to the keys and playing a few bars of something he knew very well indeed. Stairway to Heaven hadn't been written for piano, but the chords were the same no matter what instrument it was played on. "Micah was the talented one," she said quietly. "He could have been great."

"A little?" he echoed dubiously, eyes widening as she converted what he considered to be the world's greatest rock song to piano. "I'd say more than a little." He frowned a little, saddened by the mention of her late brother. "I wish I could have met him," he told her quietly. It wasn't the first time he'd thought it, but maybe the first time he'd admitted it. He had saved his sister, but there was nothing they could do about her brother.

"You will meet him," she murmured, raising her eyes to his as her fingers stilled on the keys. "When our eldest son is born, milaya. Micah told me, at Christmas, he will give up his eternal heaven to be with us."

"Your brother is going to come back as our son?" he echoed, searching his memory for that bit of information. Had she told him that already or had she not' He couldn't recall. He remembered her telling him about a visitation from her brother's ghost at Christmas, but he didn't recall her mentioning that little tidbit. "Should we think about buying a piano?" he asked with a small smile. But before she could answer, a female voice interrupted.

"Oh, you must be the Bristols!"

Rhys exhaled a sigh of relief. "I thought she'd never leave," he said, lowering their bags to the floor. Taking a seat on the bed, he bounced once as if to test the mattress. Ever after being all over Europe with Nat, he was still not very accustomed to the fuss and attention given at the more expensive establishments.

Nat lingered by the door, biting at her lip as she listened to the woman's footsteps fading down the hall. "I disappointed her," she worried unnecessarily. "Perhaps she will put it down to me being foreign, and not hold it against us." She sighed softly, shrugging out of her jacket before dropping onto the bed beside Rhys. "And do not think I will not find some way to punish you for making me do all the talking, Mr. Bristol."

"Don't be silly. Her job is to please people. She's just trying to please you, Nat," he pointed out, smirking at her threat. "What are you going to do, Mrs. Bristol?" he asked, pushing her back onto the bed and leaning over her with an amused smile on his face. "I did all the talking on the phone, remember?" he said, reminding her that this had been his idea and that he'd made the reservations.

"I am going to claim that foot rub you promised me last night, to start with," she informed him, gently adjusting herself so that she was partially on her side. Lying on her back these days gave Ana ample room to squeeze the breath from her at every opportunity.

"Here or in the tub' She told me on the phone that our room comes with a private bath with a whirlpool tub." He hadn't seen it yet, so he wasn't sure if it was big enough for two, but if they could get both of them in their tub at home, he figured they could do the same here.

"We have a whirlpool?" He couldn't mistake the warm pleasure on his wife's face at that little piece of information. She gently tweaked the end of his nose, rolling closer to kiss him. "Squeeze me into the tub with you and see what happens, milaya."

"Now?" he asked, crossing his eyes to follow her fingers as she tweaked his nose and chuckling to himself. "I can think of a few things that might happen in the tub," he teased, kissing her back.

"Then I suggest you get on with it, Mr. Bristol," his wife murmured teasingly. "The sooner Mrs. Avery hears that we're making the most of our solitude, the sooner she'll stop trying to listen at the keyhole, just in case we need her."

"Listen at the keyhole!" Rhys echoed, shooting a startled glance at the door and hoping his wife was just teasing. He moved to his feet and started toward the door just to be sure, but by the time he got there, no one was there, if anyone had even been there to begin with.

Nat watched him, laughing like a drain as he checked the door. "Oh, milaya," she giggled, stretching out her hands to him, "you are priceless sometimes! Come, help me up. Your daughter is behaving herself for once, so ....let us misbehave and wake her up."

Rhys closed the door and locked it, turning back to his wife with hands on hips and eyes narrowed, realizing he had been duped. "You are so going to get it," he warned as he stalked closer, trying to look as menacing as possible.

The smile he got back was not innocent at all. "I do hope so," she informed him. "I have, after all, been doing my very best to earn it." She winked, beckoning with a single finger. "Otday yego mne, dorogaya."

His expression changed, brows smoothing out, lips curling into a smile, even as he chuckled. He had learned enough Russian to know she was egging him on and practically daring him to give her whatever punishment he thought suited the crime. "You are was too easy, you know that?" But then, he'd found that out years ago when he'd first met her on an airplane headed for France.

"Only for you, my heart," she promised him through her wide grin, wriggling her fingers to encourage him to pull her up. "You promised me a whirlpool. I am holding you to that."

"That was before you tricked me!" he countered, but did as she bid him, reaching for her hands to help her to her feet. He couldn't think of any better way to spend the afternoon than relaxing with his wife in a warm bath to help unwind his the nervous tension that had been creeping up all day in anticipation of their plans for the evening. "I wonder what Mrs. Avery would think if she knew how we plan to spend our evening."

Nat snorted softly, looping her arms around his waist once she was on her feet again. "With any luck, she will think we are going out for a romantic evening, and will not mind us being late back," she assured him softly. "Do not let me forget to dress up so she continues to believe that."

"You going to exorcise some demons in a little black dress and some heels?" he teased, circling his arms around her to hold her close, though this was getting them no closer to the bathroom. He frowned a little as a thought came to mind, though he already knew what her response would be. "I could have Adam here by morning and do this on our own. You don't really have to be part of it if you don't want to be, Nat." It wasn't just her safety that concerned him, but the safety of their child.

"You would take Adam away from his family, when I am here, and I can do the same job just as well?" she pointed out softly, nose to nose with him. "I know you worry for me, and for our child. If I thought there was true danger, I would not be coming with you. But there is little danger. Lailah will take Aurelia out of the situation, and then all that needs doing is the exorcism. And that can be done without danger to me. Trust me, milaya. This will not be so difficult as you seem to expect."

"I don't want to argue about it, Nat, and I do trust you. It's the demons I don't trust. You heard what the boys said. They want revenge, and we both know why. If they find out who we are, they won't just try to kill us. They'll try to do a lot worse." He didn't really want to talk about this now, not in such a romantic setting at this, but it had to be talked about sooner or later.

"And we have a power that they have never even heard of at our disposal," she reminded him. "The Lady will not let us be harmed. You could call an army to us in seconds, I could draw us to Avalon in that same time. Demons are nothing to us any longer."

He knew that to be true, and yet, there was that old fear nagging away at him. They had freed his sister from the witches easily enough. Why was this hunt worrying him' Was it only because it was demons or was it something about Aurelia that was bothering him' Or maybe it was simply the knowledge that it was taking place in the house he'd grown up in. "I know. I'm sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess," he replied, though he knew he'd continue to worry more as the evening approached. "We need to make a plan of attack," he added, though that could be done easily enough while they soaked.

She raised her hand, laying her fingers against his lips gently. "Shh." With a kiss to make sure he did stop worrying so much, she smiled gently. "Put me in the tub, and we'll talk."

He quieted, silenced not only by the press of her fingertips against his lips but her constant reassurance that everything would be fine. "As you wish," he told her, not for the first time since they'd started this little adventure.

And no doubt he would need more assurance before this little adventure came to an end. But for now, Rhys only had one job - to relax with his wife and their unborn child, and forget for a few hours the evening ahead of them. If he could manage that, then the demons had already lost. Aurelia was as good as saved.

((One demon hunt coming up! Stay tuned for more!))