Topic: Return

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:25 EST

Rhys knew the way to Dylan's by heart. He knew it so well he could practically drive it in his sleep. Of course, he couldn't drive while he was sleeping; it was just a figure of speech. Nat had promised a trip home to the house where he'd grown up under Dylan's careful and protective tutelage for a while now, but until just recently, Rhys had resisted. They'd been back to St. Petersburg to visit her childhood home, and it seemed it was time to return the favor.

Rhys wasn't sure how he felt it. He had mixed feelings about going back there, but then didn't everyone feel that way about their childhood home" There were both good and bad memories there, and though he'd been back a few times since Dylan had died, it had never been home again. It felt haunted in ways he wasn't sure he could explain. Too much had happened there; there were too many memories, not all of them his.

Overall, it wasn't a long trip by any means, a little over four hours, give or take for rest stops, but the closer they got, the more uneasy and restless Rhys became, though he wasn't really sure why. They'd chosen to make the drive in the afternoon, since neither was very fond of getting up early in the morning. By the time Rhys had the car loaded and had stopped for the inevitable cup of coffee and supply of snacks, it was well past noon. As everyone who lived in the northeast knew, there were really only two seasons - winter and roadwork - and since they were driving in roadwork season, it was no big surprise when they ran into a few small delays. It was nearly six by the time they arrived in town, and Rhys was hungry.

There was a Comfort Inn in the middle of town, but the sign declared "No Vacancy", so Rhys had opted for his second choice - a motor inn just off the main drag that went through town. It wasn't the Ritz, but it was cheap and comfortable enough for one night. Besides, beggars couldn't really be choosers. He wasn't sure what they were going to find at the house, and he had to think of his pregnant wife's safety and comfort. They could worry about finding better lodging in the morning.

The trip hadn't been that long, really, but as she advanced into her last ten weeks, Nat had found herself increasingly irritated when confined to the car. She'd done her best to stay calm on this trip, however, for Rhys' sake. The only reason he was making this trip at all was because of her. "Are you going to feed me before you put me to bed, dusha moya?"

"Yeah, what do you feel like?" he asked as he hauled their suitcases into the room and tossed them on the bed. "There's a diner down the street, unless you feel like fast food." Unless things had changed over the last few years, the pickings were slim. There were a few bars around that served food, the usual run of fast food places, a couple of diners, and one or two more upscale places where the local professionals who could afford to eat there. She didn't really have to ask to know what his preference would be. He was rather fond of the small local dives, and that was the best place to hear local gossip. If anything weird was going on here, that's where you'd hear about it.

She chuckled, dropping the wet cloth from the back of her neck back into the sink. "I think I can handle a diner," she assured him fondly, rubbing a hand over her bump. The baby inside was pretty active now she was upright and mobile again, getting a few good hits to her ribs as it rearranged itself. "Perhaps you should tell your unborn child to stop beating me up first."

"Unborn child, stop beating your mother up!" he echoed with a smirk, ever the smart *ss. But then he was settling himself on the bed and pulling her close so he was practically eye to eye with her bump. He leaned in close enough to press his cheek to her baby bump and whisper a warning to the gestating daughter. "Ana," he started, addressing their daughter by the name they'd already chosen for her. "Give your mother a break. Settle down or no ice cream later, got me?" he said in a voice that didn't sound very threatening. "How's that?" he asked, smirking up at his wife.

Nat stuck her tongue out at him for his smart alec come back, but laughed when he drew her close to address their daughter in the womb. It was a little galling how quickly the unborn girl reacted to her father's voice, turning until her knees were no longer pressing on her mama's bladder and going still, just for Rhys. Nat stared at her bump for a moment, and sighed, rolling her eyes. "You have no permission to be smug about that," she informed him with a smile, bending down to kiss him. "Feed me, milaya."

"Well, she is half angel," he remarked with a cheesy grin. Nothing was further from the truth. He might have been an angel once, and if tested, his blood might be found to show traces of some unusual qualities, but he was mortal now, with a mortal heart, a mortal soul, and a very mortal appetite. "As you wish," he mimicked Westley from The Princess Bride, moving to his feet and pressing a fleeting kiss against his wife's lips. He was trying to remain as upbeat as possible, knowing he was going to be dealing with a blast from the past in the next day or so.

"Just hope she does not come out of the womb with a taste for borscht, or you will have to learn to like it," Nat teased him in answer, sliding her hand into his as they moved toward the door. She didn't know anything about this town, except that Dylan's cabin was not far outside it, and Dylan's cabin was why they were there in the first place. Rhys had helped her come to terms with the worst of her own past; she was trying now to help him say goodbye to one of the best parts of his. "I have a strange craving, though," she added, drawing their door shut behind them. "I seem to be desiring a bacon cheeseburger. Like father, like daughter, it seems."

He chuckled as he pocketed the motel room keys and slipped out the door with her. Thankfully, the diner was a short walk from the motel as it seemed Nat was done with the car for the day. "It's a bacon double cheeseburger," he corrected his wife. "And it will be a cold day in hell when I eat borscht," he added, stifling the ever-present shudder whenever she mentioned it. She had tried convincing him to eat caviar once, and that hadn't gone over very well either. Nothing would ever substitute for a good old-fashioned cheeseburger, as far as he was concerned. "Feel like a walk?"

"I feel like a pregnant woman, but I could walk," she laughed, glad to be out of the car as she appreciated the rise in her own mood. "Bacon double cheeseburger" What makes it double?" she asked, internally glad she'd remembered to pack that large bottle of antacids in with their luggage.

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:26 EST

"That's because you are a pregnant woman," he pointed out helpfully as he led her from the room and into the cool evening breeze. There was no inner hallway here. Each room was accessed from the outside in true motel fashion. He'd spent plenty of nights on the road in motels just like this one, but he thought it was a bit like slumming to bring his wife to one of these places now. Maybe they'd just sleep on top the covers tonight. Who knew what dwelt beneath them, after all" He pushed that thought out of his head, wishing he'd called ahead, but rooms filled up quick in the podunk town, and they were probably lucky to get what they had. He chuckled at her question. "It's a bacon double cheeseburger because there are two burgers!" he told her with a shake of his head. "Silly girl." He took hold of her hand and led her across the parking lot to the street, frowning a little. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea, Nat."

"You need to do this, milaya," she told him softly, squeezing his hand in hers as they walked. "I know it is hard. But there are good memories, as well the bad. You have to make your peace with them, or they will haunt you always. All we are here to do is take a look at the place, sort through some of what is there. You do not need to make any decisions this time. But doing this will make those decisions easier."

"I should have burned it down when I had the chance," he remarked dully, leading her past the few houses that lined the street that looked like they'd seen better days. And what would burning the place down have accomplished" It would be like a funeral pyre, saying goodbye to his past and watching all his childhood memories go up in smoke.

"No, you shouldn't." She raised his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles softly. "You did not let me walk away from my past in Russia. I will not let you walk away from yours here. It is necessary. And besides, you saw my childhood bedroom; I think it is only fair that I see yours."

He chuffed at the thought of that. "There isn't much to see." A few posters on the wall, some yellowed, brittle comic books, a few record albums, old tattered clothes, some photographs. Or at least, so he recalled. Though Rhys had been back to the house at least once, even he had not dared enter that bedroom. A room that had belonged to another boy before him. It had never really felt like his. It had always felt like he was sleeping in someone else's bed, being raised by someone else's father, but Natalya knew none of this because Rhys rarely, if ever, spoke of it. Was home back in Iowa where he'd lived with his parents until he was nine" Or was home here in Pennsylvania where he'd lived with Dylan' Or maybe it was in New York, where he'd finished high school after Dylan had died. No, home was wherever Natalya was now. The house in Pennsylvania was just a house, nothing more.

"So you wouldn't want to do a little physical banishing of some of those ghosts, then?" Nat's smile was all kinds of inviting and teasing at once, still gentle behind the soft jab. She knew this was hard for him, but she was as stubborn as he was. It would be good for him in the long run.

Rhys clenched his jaw, unsure if he wanted to tell her the truth, but if there was anyone who knew him and who he trusted, it was Nat. "I'm scared, Nat. I'm not sure what of, but I'm scared."

She came to a halt, turning him until he was looking into her eyes. "There is nothing wrong with being scared," she told him quite honestly. "But all that house contains is the past. The future is standing in front of you. The future is here." She pressed his hand to her rounded belly, smiling a little as the tiny girl inside pressed back. "Be scared. I will not judge you for it. But don't let that fear drive you into running away. You are a not a man who retreats easily."

Rhys knew she was right, just as she always was, and he smiled a little when he felt his daughter - their daughter - move beneath his hand as if to reassure her father, just as her mother was reassuring her husband. "How'd you get to be so wise?" he asked her, and though it might seem a ridiculous question, he really wanted to know.

She smiled, seeing the truth in the question. "Because I have been through it, remember?" she told him in her lilting voice. "You didn't let me run away, and I made peace with my mother. I needed to do that, and now you need to do something similar. So I will march you to the house at gunpoint if I have to, because it is what you need."

"At gunpoint, really?" he chuckled. "Sounds kinky, Nat," he teased, though he knew she was dead serious. In fact, maybe he teased her because she was dead serious. "But first, bacon double cheeseburgers," he promised with a grin, tugging her by the hand in the direction of the diner. It didn't take long before they arrived at the diner, which called itself Diner 22, because it was located on Route 22 just outside of town.

She was giggling as he led her into the diner, just a young couple on a road trip before the birth of their first child. Old habits died very hard - any hint of Russian disappeared from her voice, replaced with an accent not too dissimilar from Rhys' own. "So remind me again why it has to be a double cheeseburger" And don't say it's because I'm eating for two."

"It doesn't have to be a double cheeseburger, unless you want it to be," he replied, a little surprised at the change in her accent and at how easily she seemed able to sound almost like a native New Yorker.

"Evening," they were greeted by a waitress dressed all in pink, with a bleached blond permanent wave and too-red lipstick. "Just take a seat anywhere, toots!"

"Thanks!" Nat shot back in that rather sweet New York from behind a bright smile. Her hand squeezed Rhys' as they moved to sit down. "I thought perhaps you would not want the people here to look too closely at us," she murmured to him. "My accent makes me a subject of much interest outside the cities."

Rhys chose a booth near the windows with a clear view of the street, not that it was a very interesting view. It was just cars and more cars whizzing past on their way to wherever they were going. More than likely, straight through town, never stopping except to fill their gas tank, take a leak, or grab a cup of coffee. How many times had he and Dylan sat at this very table ruminating their next hunt' He was confident no one would recognize him here now. He had been gone too many years. "The less we are noticed, the better, I suppose," he replied, picking up the menu their waitress had left them with to see if maybe that had changed.

Nat studied him for a moment as he perused the menu, wishing she'd thought to warn him in advance of what she had done with her voice when they entered. Rhys was difficult to read sometimes, and now was one of those times. She wasn't quite sure why he had clammed up all of a sudden. "What do you recommend for me?" she asked, hoping to draw him out a little. "Besides a chocolate milkshake."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:27 EST

Rhys considered a moment, his eyes perusing the menu, which didn't seem to have changed much in years. Oh, there was a new item here and there, but mostly it was the same as he'd always remembered it. "Meatloaf," he replied, more to himself than to her, more memory than anything else. "Dylan loved the meatloaf here." He chuckled a little to himself as he realized something else, memories flooding back. "Dylan loved meatloaf anywhere. Wherever we went, he always had to try the meatloaf."

She smiled faintly, recognizing that he was talking more to his memories than to her. Personally, she could not stand meatloaf, but she was prepared to let him muse on that for a little while.

The waitress didn't leave them very long, coming over to their seat with a bored expression and a note book. "What can I get'cha?"

"Meatloaf," Rhys repeated. He hated meatloaf, but what the hell. He'd eat it tonight in honor of Dylan. After all, it was just a flat cheeseburger without the bun and the cheese and with a little gravy added. He already knew it came with mashed potatoes and something that passed for a vegetable on the side. It was going to lie like a lead ball in his stomach for hours. "And a cup of coffee, please."

Nat skimmed the menu briefly, tempted to order the same out of solidarity but not prepared to put up with the complaints from her current resident. "Chicken salad, fries on the side," she placed her own order with a rueful grin. She was pregnant, she could get away with that. "And a chocolate milkshake, please."

Scribbling away, the waitress snorted softly. "Anything you like, toots," she nodded to the pair of them. "Comin' up."

It was obvious that Rhys' mood had turned sour as soon as they'd arrived, though he wasn't quite sure why. Dylan had been dead now for over ten years and nothing was going to bring him back. He'd watched while David and Adam burned Dylan's body, hunter style. As far as Rhys knew, there was nothing left of Dylan but memories. Not even a grave where he could lay some flowers and say a few prayers. Nothing but a dilapidated, deserted building where he'd spent a good part of his childhood - at least, when they weren't on the road. He glanced out the window at the rolling green hills that used to be home. He used to love it here, once upon a time, but that was a long time ago.

A few minutes of silence, during which their drinks arrived, was more than enough for Natalya. She leaned forward as best she could, reaching across the table to touch her husband's hand gently. "Tell me about him," she said softly. "Anything that comes to mind. Keeping it all inside is never good for you."

Her touch brought his mind back to the present, frowning as he realized that he'd gone silent, lost in his own thoughts. He didn't mean to ignore her. He just had never been very good at dealing with the ghosts of his own past. "Besides the fact that he liked meatloaf?" Rhys asked, somewhat sarcastically.

There were times when Rhys was very lucky he had a wife who understood him almost as much as she loved him. Irritation flashed in Nat's eyes at his sarcastic response, but she bit down the verbal response, merely drawing her hand back. "I didn't mean to push," she said quietly, shaking her head. "Never mind."

"I don't mean the singer Meatloaf. I mean meatloaf meatloaf. He couldn't get enough of the stuff. After he picked me up from the....the boys' home....he insisted on stopping at this diner he said had the best meatloaf he'd ever tasted." His frown deepened as he realized he'd hurt her by shutting her out, though it hadn't been his intention. "I'm sorry, Nat. It's just hard talking about it. I don't know why."

"I'm not the important one here," she told him, shaking her head once again. "If you do not wish to talk about it, then you do not have to. Just tell me what to do in order to help you. That is all I want."

"I don't know," he replied. "I mean, I don't know what to do, you know" I never really had a chance to say goodbye. Not really. We never really had a funeral. I mean, not really. We just..." He glanced around a moment, as if to make sure no one was within range of hearing. "We burned the body. David said a few words, and I played him Stairway to Heaven. Zepp was his favorite band. Guess that's where I got that from. It could have been worse. Thank God they didn't turn him. I'm not sure I would have been able to..." He broke off again.

"The funeral isn't for the person who has passed," his wife said quietly, careful not to let anyone around them hear her as she tried to offer some comfort. "It is for the people left behind. You did what he taught you to do, and you did it with dignity. You honored him." Her hand caught his once again, this time not retreating as she smiled gently. "That is why we are here. You never said goodbye then. Perhaps now you finally can."

He clung to her hand as though in that moment, he needed that connection to the world of the living. "David's gone, too. They both died because of me, Nat. Oh, I know, they knew the risks. They knew what they were doing, but if Dylan hadn't taken me in, they might still both be alive. I know Adam doesn't hold it against me. He didn't want anything to do with this kind of life, and he almost died because of me, too. I know it's not my fault. They made their own choices, but I never got a chance to tell either of them how much they meant to me. Maybe if there really is a heaven, they know that already." He wrapped one hand around his coffee cup, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with that hand, but didn't pull it toward him for a sip. "I'm sorry. I'm being morose."

She curled both her hands around his one, her eyes wet with compassion for his struggle. "They knew," she said, gentle and quiet, but filled with conviction. "You did not need to say it aloud for them to know how you felt for them. In the same way that I do not need to hear you say it to know that you love me. There are many ways to express yourself without words, Rhys, and you use them all the time. You do not have to believe me, but I know they knew how much they meant to you. And Adam knows, as well."

"I hope so. If it wasn't for Dylan..." He broke off again, but only for a moment before continuing. "I don't know what would have happened to me. The..." He paused a moment not wanting to mention his enemies by name, not here. "They would have caught up with me sooner or later, and then where would we be? I don't even know how he found me or why. He must have read about it in the papers, I guess." He grew quiet a moment, unsure how much to tell her, forgetting how much he'd told her already. "He had a wife and son. Ryan. His name was Ryan. He showed me a picture once. I used to think I could never live up to that memory, but then I had a father before him, too. I guess in a way, we were both orphans."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:28 EST

"He needed you, as much as you needed him," she murmured, stroking her fingers over the back of his hand. She had never heard Rhys talk so much, so openly, about Dylan before now, glad he had finally found that place in himself that needed to share even a little bit of the secrets he held inside himself. That was the whole point of this trip, to get a little of the pain out in the open where it might dissipate and let him be.

"Yeah, maybe," he replied, considering it a moment further. "We probably did." He chuckled dryly a moment at a particular memory. "We were both pretty pathetic. I tried to resist him at first. I couldn't understand who he was or why he'd come for me. I tried to run away once. That was stupid. All that got me was trouble. It wasn't until after he told me about his family that I understood how alike we were."

Nat smiled as he chuckled, finding it all too easy to imagine. "He was a wise man," she mused softly. "You would never have accepted what he told you about his family if you had not run away and got yourself into trouble first."

"I was lucky I wasn't killed!" he exclaimed, almost forgetting himself and glancing around again to see if anyone was eavesdropping, but it seemed the other diners were caught up in their own conversations and paid him no heed. "I thought he'd be pissed at me after that, but he wasn't. It wasn't his way to get angry really. He just....He hugged me and told me never to do anything so stupid again." Of course, there was a lot more to that story than he was telling, but he'd told her bits and pieces of it before.

"Lucky you were not killed," she repeated with just a touch of amusement in her voice. They both knew his resident angel on the shoulder wouldn't have let that happen, especially after her slip that had ended up with Rachel being taken away. She glanced up as the waitress came back, bearing their plates, thanking the woman before taking up a fork. "You were lucky to have him," she said quietly, a little jealous of the loving parental influence on his young life.

"Yeah, I know I was. I was lucky to have David and Adam, too," he added. And Gina and Joey and Rachel and Zach and the Lady of Avalon and most of all Natalya. "I'm lucky to have you, too," he added, with a soft smile her way. He'd noticed the wetness in her eyes and reached over to touch her cheek, not wanting to upset her. There was no doubt she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but if it wasn't for Dylan, he knew he wouldn't have made it this far.

She smiled through that momentary sadness, tilting her cheek into his touch affectionately, even as her eyes flickered down to his plate. Her smile deepened to a playful smirk. "If you are very good," she told him impishly, "I will let you share my fries."

"I'm always very good," he replied with a waggle of brows and a playful smirk, reaching to steal a french fry off her plate without her permission.

And just like that, the mood changed. They managed to pass a very pleasant meal, with Nat constantly teasing Rhys about his choice of meal and ignoring the constant theft off her own plate in response. It was only later, when they were lingering over a last cup of coffee, that their mood changed yet again, thanks to an overheard conversation a few tables away.

"I'm telling you, man, they're all freaks," a teenaged boy was saying, evidently trying to impress his companions. "There's this one girl, at the old Donovan place - she's, like, covered in tattoos with freaky sharp fingernails. Swear she escaped from a circus or something."

Unfortunately for Rhys, he was just taking a swallow of coffee when he heard someone mention Dylan's house and he very nearly sputtered, coughing once and forcing it down his throat. He turned to glance at who was doing the talking, wondering if maybe he'd misunderstood what he'd heard. What girl with tattoos and fingernails? No one had lived in Dylan's house in years. He'd been there himself a few years ago when he'd come through the portal from Rhy'Din. Adam hadn't mentioned anyone else living there. They had to be mistaken.

The conversationalists were three boys, draped over their chairs as they traded stories about the same place. "My dad said they just showed up, coupla years ago," one of them said, unaware that every word was being caught by the couple a few tables over. "Just moved on in, made themselves comfortable."

"Yeah, like old man Donovan would've stopped them," another laughed. "He was cracked, man. I'll bet he left them the place, or something."

Rhys continued to stare at the group of boys and to eavesdrop, his eyes narrowing in annoyance when they made mention of Dylan in a less than complimentary way. "People should not speak ill of the dead," he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Natalya to hear. But more important, despite what they might think of Dylan, was the claim that someone was making themselves at home in Dylan's house.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the first boy was frowning, obviously annoyed at being interrupted. "Anyway, this hot chick with all the tattoos, she's looking my way kinda hungry-like, so I figure, why not' I swear, the second I got on the porch, Mr. McGilligan comes out of the house."

"No way!" Whoever he was talking about, it seemed to be shocking.

"Anyway, I say hi, and he starts yelling at me and telling me to get going," the first boy continued, warming to his role of storyteller. "I said no, and I swear to God, man, he picked me up and threw me all the way down the drive and onto the track. Seriously, the guy's, like, ninety!"

Now that the boys were no longer insulting Dylan's memory, Rhys' interest in the conversation changed. A hot chick with tattoos and an old man - Mr. McGilligan, in fact, whom Rhys had met a handful of times growing up - seemed to have taken up residence in Dylan's house, a house that now belonged to Rhys, whether he lived there or not. He debated a moment, wondering if he should wait and see what else he could find out from eavesdropping or stroll over and flash a fake badge. He realized that Nat had gone quiet, as well, and glanced over to see if she'd been listening.

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:28 EST

Nat met his gaze with serious eyes. She wasn't following even half as well as he was, but just the fact that someone was squatting in Dylan's home was enough to concern her, even without the apparent evidence of an old man exhibiting super strength.

"Oh yeah' I'll bet you're just saying that 'cause you don't want anyone knowing you got your *ss handed to you by that bombshell babe living there," the third boy countered his friend's story. "I'd hit that."

The second boy snorted and rolled his eyes. "Please, she'd snap you like a twig."

A woman with tattoos who could snap a man like a twig, and an old man who threw a practically full grown boy all the way down the driveway as if he weighed nothing. Either something strange was going on at Dylan's house, or someone was telling tall tales. There was only one way to find out, but before he paid the house a visit himself, he wanted to know more. "What does the woman look like?" he asked, turning his body toward the table where the boys were having their conversation. He'd try it the nice way, but if that didn't work, there were other methods.

The look he got from the boys was priceless, shades of startled, annoyed, and impressed that this stranger was ballsy enough to just interrupt. The first boy started to object, but his friend thumped him to shut up. "Which one?" the second boy asked with a shrug. "There's three of 'em up there. Mr. McGilligan only joined up few weeks ago, but there's seven folks living in the place now. Why'd you wanna know?"

"Why do you think?" Rhys countered, tossing the question back at them. Let them wonder who he was and what his interest was in the house, and if they got cocky, he'd flash a badge and threaten them with some trumped up charge of obstructing justice or something.

This time, his friends weren't quick enough to stop the first boy from opening his stupid mouth. "Looks like you got one girl all plumped up and you're scouting for number two," he declared in an obnoxious voice.

Nat stood up, glaring down at him, and his friends had the satisfaction of seeing him turn pale and close his mouth again. "Answer the man's question," she suggested quietly, aware that she could radiate the kind of danger most people didn't want to tangle with.

Rhys knew Nat didn't really need his help in putting the boys in their place and was probably even enjoying it, but it was still his wife they were insulting, and if for no other reason but that, he couldn't sit there silently and just allow Nat to let them have it. "First of all, she's not a girl. She's my wife. And secondly, my interest in the Donovan place is strictly professional." Time to flash the badge, assuming these boys wouldn't know a fake from the real thing if it hit them in the face, and it was a pretty damned good fake, especially since it had come from Adam, who worked for the institution whose badge Rhys was about to flash. He reached into his jacket and fished around in a hidden pocket for the fake F.B.I. badge he kept hidden in there, just in case of trouble.

"Where'd you find a hottie like that?" the first boy said, looking Nat up and down. "Way out of your league, man."

His friends groaned and made an attempt to distance themselves from him, the second boy brave enough to speak up. "Jesus, Matt, just shut up, would you?"

Rhys was sorely tempted to let Natalya handle it, but his ego wouldn't let him. He very calmly and coolly got up from the booth and moved over to the table where the three boys were sitting and flapping their jaws heedless of who might be listening - which, while Rhys didn't want to admit it, probably worked in his favor. He dropped the leather case open, giving them a moment to take a gander at the shiny gold badge that read in big, bold letters "F.B.I." before closing it and shoving it back in his jacket. "That answer your question, smart*ss?" Rhys asked, aiming his question at the one that seemed to be the ring leader.

As Rhys rose, Nat sat herself back down, letting him take point and terrify three boys who were unlikely to ever have a conversation in a diner ever again after tonight. The first boy - Matt - skimmed his eyes down to the badge, and abruptly lost the attitude, stammering out an apology in a hurry. "I-I'm sorry, man, sir, I didn't mean anything by it, I -" He yelped as the third boy kicked him.

"Seriously, just shut up," he was advised, as the second boy looked up at Rhys slightly worriedly.

"Are we in trouble, sir?"

"That depends. You want to tell me everything you know about the old Donovan place here or at the station' Personally, I don't care either way, but if we go down to the station, I have to fill out paperwork and call your parents, and it gets all kinds of complicated, so you tell me. Here or there?" he asked, leaving the ball in their court and trying not to appear too smug.

"Uh, here." It was pretty obvious that none of the boys wanted their parents to find out they'd pissed off a federal agent. Matt, the boy with the story, didn't even speak, staring at Rhys wide-eyed in the hope he wasn't going to be punished for running his mouth. The second boy, who seemed to have a far better handle on what was going on than his friends, cleared his throat. "Uh ....I guess it kinda depends what you mean by everything about the old Donovan place, sir," he pointed out. "It's been empty for ten years or so. The people there right now are squatters."

Well, of course, they're squatters! Rhys wanted to say. The house belongs to me. I hold the deed. It all belongs to me. Dylan bequeathed it all to me in his Will. But that was not what an F.B.I. Agent would say, so he held his tongue and merely replied, "Go on." His attention was riveted on the one named Matt, the one who had the biggest mouth but seemed the most frightened, as if by intimidating this one boy, the others would be more likely to talk.

"Uh ..." There was a moment of hesitation as both the boys looked to Matt, but he had evidently decided to keep his mouth shut permanently now. The second boy went on, information spilling out of his mouth now. "Coupla years back, this group of people just kinda moved in," he said, glancing at Nat before continuing. "Five of 'em - two guys, three girls. Never seen 'em around here before. The guys, they're like beefcakes, but the girls are somethin' else, you know" One's all tall and blonde and all legs, other one is really exotic looking, Indian or something, I guess. There's another girl, but she's weird; she's got these tattoos on her face, and really long sharp fingernails. Never heard her speak, she just snarls and growls. They just moved in, and started making trouble. Cops got called a coupla times, and then about a year ago, one of 'em moved into the house, too. And then a few months ago, Mr. McGilligan just up and left his wife and moved in, too."

Though his face remained passive, Rhys' mind was racing as he tried to sort out what the boys were telling them. Tattoos and sharp fingernails wasn't much of a clue. Could be anything from a witch to a demon. The mention of Mr. McGilligan though, that was telling. There were only so many reasons why an old man who was obviously not long for the grave would leave his happy home to join a bunch of squatters he didn't know. And then, there was the matter of his unusual strength - strength that defied logic for a man who was over ninety years old. Rhys vaguely remembered the man from his boyhood, and he could not remember him ever causing him any trouble. "What kind of trouble?" he asked, wanting more details and wondering if he was going to have to check in with the local cops to see what had been going on there, or if he'd have to make a phone call to Adam to see if he could pull some strings.

"They cleared out the bikers," the third boy finally volunteered something. "Got real messy, too. I heard someone died. Anyway, they run that bar now, too. Weird people stop by, never stay in town long. And there was all that stuff about never being able to go home, and not liking hunters."

"Oh, yeah," the second boy nodded. "A while back one of them got real pissed about something and gave Mrs. Milkowich a heart attack yelling at her about how he can't go home because of hunters and angels and how he's gonna cut up the next hunter he meets and make him eat his own liver and stuff."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:29 EST

"Mmm," Rhys replied, taking it all in quietly. Sure as hell sounded like demons to him. The Lady had warned that they might have some cleaning up to do. Now that the Gates of Hell were closed, the demons who'd been let loose into the world had nowhere to go, but Rhys and Nat could take care of that for them. The Lady had made sure of that. Rhys wondered how many demons were still wandering the Earth. There was no way he could hunt them all down himself, but he knew the Lady had a plan for that, too. How ironic was it that a group of the sons of bitches had chosen Dylan's house to roost in, but how had they gotten around the charms that had been put in place to ward the house" If they were demons. It seemed the most likely explanation. That thought made Rhys grit his teeth in anger. There was nothing in all of God's creation - in all the multiverse - he hated more than demons. "You believe that stuff?" he asked the boys curiously, wondering how much else they knew.

"Oh, come on, man," the boy laughed, shaking his head. "The dude was probably drunk. I'll bet his dad took him on hunting trips when he was a kid and he hated them." The other two nodded in agreement, but behind Rhys, Nat was frowning faintly. This hadn't been what she had expected to find when they came here. Demons made sense, right enough, but tattoos and claws" That wasn't something she'd come across before.

"You remember which bar it is they're running now?" he asked further, thinking that might be as good a place to start as any, though he couldn't very well go in there alone, guns blazing, so to speak. Maybe the best place to start was Dylan's house itself. That was the reason they'd come here, after all.

"Yeah, it's that rough one outside of town," Matt spoke up, his tone far less offensive this time around. "My dad used to drink there. S'called Shady Lady, or something like that."

"Anything else you think might be important?" Rhys continued, hoping to get as much information out of the boys as he could, even if half of it was nothing but hearsay. He could call Adam and sort out what was true and what was false easily enough. For the moment, he remained focused on the boys, though he was acutely aware of Nat not more than a few feet away, hearing every word.

"I heard they were into, like, devil worship and stuff," was offered, though this wasn't given much credence by the other two, clearly. "And they get real crabby if they catch you on Donovan land. Mandy Gallagher got her arm broke in three places, just for dropping off a paper."

"And the local police aren't doing anything about it?" he asked, though, of course, he knew that if they truly were demons, there wasn't much they could do. In fact, if the demons were smart, they had already possessed a few of the local cops to keep an eye on things. Rhys glanced around the small diner again, realizing there was no one he could trust - no one, but Natalya.

"Last I heard, they don't want any more trouble with them," Matt shrugged, looking a little bemused. "Don't much know why the cops don't do anything about them. I guess they've kinda cooled off the last few months."

"Do me a favor," Rhys began, assuming that was about all the information he was going to get out of the boys. He leaned in, lowering his voice so that only the three of them could hear what else he had to say. "Don't say a word about this to anyone. I'm here on a federal investigation, and if you speak a word of it to anyone, it could be considered obstruction of justice, and you know what that means."

At their own table, Nat couldn't hear clearly what Rhys was saying to the trio, but from the looks on their faces, she guessed that something along the lines of putting the fear of God into them was pretty close. There was a plethora of "Yes, sir"s, and polite nods as the boys scrambled to leave the diner and get away from Rhys as quickly as they could.

When Rhys returned to the table where Natalya was waiting, it was with a mix of smug pleasure for how he'd handled the boys and deep worry over what was going on in his own hometown. In his own home, in fact. He settled back down at the table with Natalya, the worry winning out over the smugness. "Looks like we're going to be doing more than paying our respects here."

She met his gaze with regretful compassion. "I am sorry," she murmured gently. "I had no idea something like this had happened, or I would have pushed for us to come sooner. What do you need me to do?"

Rhys reached for his cup of coffee and took a swallow, considering a slice of pie. Pie and coffee helped him think better, or so he believed. In truth, it was probably just the mix of caffeine and sugar that made him more alert, at least, temporarily. "The thing I don't get is, Adam and I had the place warded," he said, leaning forward across the table and lowering his voice for Nat's ears alone. "Nothing supernatural should have been able to get in there."

"Unless they have a witch with them," she reminded him softly, her fingers playing with his. To any curious eye, they were just a young couple chatting over coffee before heading back to their motel for the night. "It is easy enough to scry for any witch in the area. All I need is water and ink."

So much for pie, Rhys thought with a frown. Just one more reason to be pissed off at whoever it was that was screwing up his plans for this trip. He reached into his jacket and withdrew his wallet, tossing a few bills on the table to cover their dinner, as well as a tip. "No time like the present," he told his lovely wife agreeably, though his mood was getting darker by the minute.

Natalya sighed softly, regretting having talked him into this at all. Perhaps she should have waited until after Ana was born, but then he would have found even more excuses not to come. It had to happen now, or it would never happen at all. "Very well," she said quietly, easing herself up and out of her seat with a quiet groan as her back protested. Carrying around another little human was hard work.

On the contrary, there really was no time like the present. He knew he was going to have to face his past sooner or later, and he also knew they were going to have to clean up the mess that had been left after they closed the Gates of Hell. It was probably high time they got on that, and if it was true that demons or witches were using Dylan's house, for whatever reason, he thought it was better they deal with it sooner rather than later. He drained his cup of coffee and moved to his feet, turning to offer her a hand, despite his annoyance at the way the trip was turning out.

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:30 EST

She curled her hand into his, grateful for the support he offered her, and managed a faint smile for their waitress as they made their way back out onto the street. As soon as they were out of earshot of any curious locals, her voice reverted to the soothing Russian lilt he had grown so used to. "Do you truly wish me to scry tonight, milaya?"

"Unless you want to drive by the house and see what we can see," he replied, though he thought it would be safer to do a bit of scrying first. Unless, of course, she was too tired from the drive. Rhys frowned, torn between wanting to get to work right away and his need to protect and care for his very pregnant wife. "Unless you're too tired. It can probably wait until morning," he added, linking arms with her to lead her back toward the crappy motel room they'd rented for the night.

"No, I can do it," she promised him, hugging to his arm as he drew her closer, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I only ask because there is nothing that can be done about it tonight. But perhaps sleeping on it, having that little extra information, would be a good thing, I do not know." She shrugged, a little at a loss.

"I don't know either," he replied, with a scowl on his face. He wasn't annoyed or angry with her, but he'd already known this trip was going to be difficult, and the possibility of it turning into a hunt made it all that much harder. He wasn't sure how accurate the boys' information was, but he had no reason to doubt them, and if it was demons, they needed to be dealt with, one way or another. The Lady had given them the means, after all. They had just not expected to have to face this so soon.

"Then I think, perhaps, it is best that we scry tonight, and set our own wards," she said gently, unhappy with how easily she fell back into the practicalities of living hand in hand with the supernatural. They'd had such a quiet few months, after all. "It will look better in daylight, after a night to sleep on the problem."

If I sleep, he thought to himself, though he didn't share that thought with Natalya. "You realize they didn't just pick Dylan's house at random. There has to be a reason." And the most likely reason was that it was a trap. After all, it wasn't a big secret that Rhys had been raised in that house. He remembered what the boys had said about hunters, wondering if whoever it was that was occupying the house wanted vengeance against all hunters, or if they had a particular few in mind.

Cooler heads tended to pick holes in his theories, unfortunately. "If it were truly a trap, Rhys, they would have found some way to lure you here," his wife pointed out quietly. "Or other hunters, and hunters talk. You came here because of me, or do you believe I have been influenced by demons?"

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous, but think about it, Nat....Why Dylan's house" Why a house that's obviously warded" There are plenty of other abandoned houses to choose from. Why his" Do you really think it's just a coincidence?" he countered, finding it a little too ironic. Now that they were out in the open and could discuss the situation without worrying about being overheard, he slowed the pace, more for her sake than anything else.

"Without knowing more, we cannot risk making assumptions," she warned him, grateful as he slowed down. She didn't like to admit it, but being pregnant was starting to annoy her at times. Just over two months to go. "It could very easily be a coincidence," she pointed out. "This invasion happened long before the Gates were closed, before the focus fell on you specifically. They could as easily be opportunists, as intentional squatters."

"Yeah, well....the big question is are they demons and if they are, how'd they get in there and what do they want' I'm sure they're not just looking to have a party or something," he remarked, slightly grumpily, though he wasn't annoyed with her. The timing of it could have been a little better, especially considering her pregnancy. "I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of helping me."

"You suppose correctly," she informed him, just a little irritated at his insistence that there had to be some big bad conspiracy to go with demons squatting in his former home. She loved him; she knew he was a very special man. But it didn't automatically mean that everything bad everywhere had something to do with him. "I am more than capable of speaking the exorcism and trapping them, milaya, even pregnant."

She might be right, but it was just too much of a coincidence for him, and he was naturally suspicious by nature, especially when it came to demons. "I just don't want you getting hurt. I don't want..." He trailed off, knowing she didn't want anything happening to their daughter either - or herself, for that matter. But Natalya wasn't Jessie or even Riley. She knew how to take care of herself, and she had the favor of the Lady on her side. If nothing else, Rhys couldn't believe the Lady would let anything happen to her or their child.

"I have this, remember?" Her hand slipped from his arm to touch the charm that hung at her throat, the sigil of the Chalice Well, the Lady's own place in Avalon. It was that amulet that allowed her to manipulate the mists; if all else failed her, she could escape to Avalon in a heartbeat, if she needed to.

He came to a halt, turning to face her right there on the sidewalk halfway between the diner and the motel. "I know that in my head, Nat. I just can't help but worry, you know" I just thought we'd left this all behind on the mountain, but I know that was just wishful thinking." But at least, there was no more Hell's Triad to deal with. As far as Rhys and Nat knew, these were just ordinary demons, if there was such a thing.

"We have both faced worse in our lifetimes," she reminded him, holding his hands between her own as she looked up at him. "This is no different than anything else we have seen. The circumstances may have changed, but our reaction should not. We have the means, we have the method. All we need now is information, and we will have that in less than an hour."

"Yeah, I know," he replied again, exhaling slowly. "Have I told you lately that I love you?" he asked, a faint smile touching his lips. He wasn't sure what he'd do without her. She kept him grounded, she kept him sane, and she kept him from going off the deep end.

Her smile was wry and tender as she leaned close to kiss him. "Have I ever mentioned that your way of giving in when we are having a discussion is particularly endearing?" she countered teasingly, kissing him once more. "Come, milaya. A few minutes with the sink, and we will have something to see."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:30 EST

Her remark, along with her kiss, turning the faint smile to a smirk. "Is it that obvious?" he asked. She was right and they both knew it, though he hadn't said it in so many words. "Yes, dear," he teased back, falling into step again toward their cheap motel room.

"Don't you dear me, you know you just lost," she laughed, raising his hand to her lips affectionately as they gained the parking lot of the motel. "I have a suggestion. If we do not find anything conclusive tonight, you should call Adam in the morning. If nothing else, he will be able to check the police records."

"Yeah, I already thought of that. Might be a good idea anyway, just to see what?s been going on around here. Missing persons, deaths....Everyone knows everyone in this town. If something weird is going on, someone will know about it." And the fact that the teenage boys they'd just talked to had heard rumors about it only proved his point.

"Just be careful not to poke too deep," Nat mused. "Those boys mentioned that one of the local policemen had joined the group at the house." She paused by their door, looking expectantly up at Rhys. "Key?"

"That's why it's better to go through Adam. He can find out what?s been going on without us even leaving the motel room." Rhys pulled the key out of his jeans pocket and handed it over. "Kinda wish I had a sword that detected demons like Frodo's sword detected orcs," he remarked casually. It was the first time he'd thought that. "Or better yet, a charm of some sort. Something portable." A sword was too heavy to be carrying around with him, not to mention it was too hard to hide.

Jangling as she unlocked the door to let them in, Nat chuckled softly, shaking her head. "And if it were something that glows, and lived all its life in your pocket, how would that be of any help, hmm?" She tossed the key back to him, putting on every light as she passed it. A moment of rummaging came up with a tub of salt, and a small bottle of ink. "You salt, I'll set up."

"I've got something that glows and lives in my pants if you'd like to see it," he said with a smirk. Okay, maybe it didn't glow, but he couldn't help saying it anyway. Had it glowed when he'd been an angel, he wondered. No, angels were genderless, weren't they' Except when they were in a mortal body, like he'd been. Like Zach was. He wondered if Lailah might be any help, but quickly dismissed that thought from his mind. He didn't want to need her help. He'd only call on her as a last resort. "Yes, dear," he quipped again, though she'd warned him against it, blinking out of his thoughts in time to catch the keys, slightly distracted. He didn't waste any more time, not even shrugging off his jacket before going about salting the windows and doors to prevent any unwelcome visits from demons.

"Oh, it glows, does it' I will have to test that theory sometime." Her laughter faded as she stepped into the bathroom, sprinkling a little salt into the basin to cleanse it before filling the white porcelain with water. She'd performed a variation on this spell before, when they had been looking for Rachel. This time it was purely for recon purposes, and hopefully Rhys wouldn't disappear into it.

"You can test it later, if you like," he replied, unable to help chuckling at her reply. Well, at least his mood hadn't sunk so low that he couldn't still make and laugh at a good joke. But then, he had Nat to blame for that. He just couldn't stay moody for long when she was around. He was too damned happy to be with her for that. Once he was done drawing a salt line against the windows and doors and was satisfied they were as safe as they were going to get, he joined her in the bathroom to look over her shoulder with interest.

Concentrating, she didn't look up as he joined her, dipping her finger into the ink to swirl it around the clear water in the basin. Though it was only a drop, the water darkened to the black of a starless sky, and very slowly images began to form in that blackness. Most of them were dismissed before they took form, but one fought its way to the surface, growing clearer with each moment that passed. A woman, blonde, with a malicious smile; two men who were virtually indistinguishable from one another; an elderly man; another woman, dark-skinned and beautiful; and a last man, his uniform declaring him to be a cop. All of them shared one fatal characteristic - black eyes.

Rhys clenched his jaw, withholding the grumble that wanted to make itself known so that Nat could focus on the spell and on what they were seeing there. There was no mistaking that they were demons, though he saw nothing of a witch or a woman bearing tattoos. He counted six in all. If there were only the six of them, it might not be so bad after all.

Nat, however, was frowning, a little confused by the motion of the spell. There was a seventh face that didn't want to be seen, a face that confused the seeking nature of the scrying. "Wait a moment," she murmured, adding a second drop of ink to the water. She focused harder on having that seventh face revealed, and with startling suddenness, it was. A woman's face, marked with dark tattoos, her hair tousled and braided in places. Her eyes were not black, but there was something wrong there; she was looking around, as though searching for whoever was looking at her.

Rhys studied the water as though he was entranced, watching as another face came into view, one that looked vaguely familiar, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't until Nat focused harder on bringing that face into view that he realized with a gasp of shock that he knew that face, though he wasn't sure how or if it was really her. "Aurelia," he whispered, or someone who looked just like Aurelia.

The woman's eyes suddenly snapped toward them, and Nat broke the connection with a slap of one hand to the water, draining the sink as quickly as she could. She looked at Rhys, concern on her face. "Who is Aurelia?"

"It can't be her," Rhys muttered, more to himself than to his wife. "It's impossible!" Or so he thought, but then she was a witch. Who would know better how to travel through the portals than a witch' But what was she doing with demons? He hadn't seen nor heard from Aurelia in years. And he no longer possessed the charm she'd given him, which had been his entire reason for visiting her little shop of horrors in Rhy'Din.

Wiping her hands dry, Nat shook her head, letting him have his few moments of incredulity as she tried to sort out what had just happened. Only a witch could have felt her scrying, and the only way that woman could have looked directly at the seeking spell was if she was a witch and Rhys had said her true name. "She's a witch, whoever she is," she said finally, leaning against the bathroom sink. "I can't spell against a witch, they have too much power. And I do not know why the spell had such trouble reaching her. It is almost as if she is not a part of this world, somehow."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:31 EST

He wasn't nearly as familiar or schooled in scrying and magic as she was and didn't know that the witch had somehow sensed them and heard her name through the water, but he had noticed that she'd turned toward them, as if she sensed someone watching them and was seeking them out. He had practically met her searching gaze before Natalya had broken the connection. What if it was Aurelia" What then" She had helped him once. Whatever had happened to her, he didn't want to have to kill her. "If it is who I think it is, she's not," he told her, watching as the inky water drained down the sink.

"I think it must be," his wife said quietly. "Only a witch would have known someone was watching, and only a witch would have heard her own name through the window created. Whatever she is, that creature is Aurelia." She sighed softly, finally shrugging out of her jacket. "And I think you should tell me about her."

Rhys chewed at the corner of his mouth at this latest development. He didn't want it to be Aurelia, though on the other hand, he thought they might be able to use it to their advantage - if he could figure out what had happened to her. Nat was right about one thing - he definitely had to tell her about Aurelia, but where to start' He'd have to mention Rhy'Din again. "I'm not sure where to start," he admitted glumly.

"Shall I help?" Natalya offered, brows raised in a manner that suggested he shouldn't try to pull the punch when it was so obvious. "Not of this world, which means you met her on Rhy'Din," she said, pushing off the sink and heading back into the room as she spoke. "You say it can't be her, which suggests that she had something in place to stop herself from turning when you knew her. Am I close?"

"Yes," he replied, following her from the bathroom and dropping heavily onto the bed. He rubbed at his temple as if he had a headache coming on, or maybe he was just thinking. "I met her in Rhy'Din. She had a shop there where she sold charms and the like. I went there because I was having nightmares. Nasty ones. I wasn't sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes and started to drift off..." He broke off. That was neither here nor there. "Anyway, she gave me a charm. A dreamstone, I think. It was supposed to capture my nightmares so that I could rest, and it worked. The Aurelia I knew was a witch, but she was a benevolent witch." He paused as if to let that sink in or to take a breath, but there was more. He hadn't yet told her everything.

Nat frowned, more curious than hurt by this. She had asked him once if there was just one person he had met on Rhy'Din that made him glad to have gone there; he had agreed that, yes, there had been one. From his reaction to this circumstance and his concern, she guessed that this Aurelia had been that one. It was more than enough reason for her to want to help the woman, rather than harm her. "So she is a witch from another world, where demons are not essential to the craft she studies," she mused, hoping she was right. "How is it that she is here, then, and with demons, looking so demonic herself?"

Rhys considered a moment. That was a good question, and one he wasn't quite sure he knew the answer to, though he could guess. "If I recall correctly, her mother was a demon, and her father was a witch. She had this....this pendant she wore to keep her demon side suppressed. The last time I saw her she was definitely not a demon. And she had what she called a whitelighter helping her. Like a guardian angel. If she's a demon now, then I think we can assume there's no whitelighter anymore."

His wife sighed softly, moving to sit down on the bed and begin the business of removing her shoes. "If she has fallen - or been pushed - it is reasonable to assume that her angel has been reassigned?" she suggested thoughtfully, wriggling her toes once they were free from constraint. "And if she is truly from another world entirely, there may not be any force for good looking for her here."

"Or he's dead," Rhys replied, hating to mention it, but it was a possibility. Rhys wished he could remember the whitelighter's name, but he hadn't made as much of an impression on him as Aurelia had. If they summoned him, he might be able to answer their questions, but that all depended on both Rhys' memory and whether or not the angel - or whatever he - was had survived. "Demon or not, I owe her a favor."

Nat nodded, agreeing silently with the unpleasant alternative. She knew that if she turned evil, the first thing she'd do would be to track down her own guardian angel and put an end to them. "You say she had a pendant that somehow suppressed her demonic side?" she asked curiously. "Would it be possible to recreate it somehow, do you think?"

"I don't know. Maybe. It was made of tiger's eye, I think, but I'm not sure how it worked. I assume it was some kind of spellwork. You ever hear of anything like that?" he asked, emptying some of the pockets of his jacket before shrugging it off. Just the important stuff that he might need while they were in the room for the evening - his wallet, keys, a knife, and a small handgun. He made a mental note to get his hands on some holy water before the first chance he got. There were enough churches in town, so it shouldn't be too hard to come by.

"Hmm." She paused, thinking for a moment. "It may not have required spellwork when she was young," she said finally. "Tiger's eye has very individual features. It is used for insight, but if worn, it brings good luck, it protects from the influence of evil. It is a stone that focuses the mind. Perhaps it was just the stone in contact with her at all times." She considered this for a moment,, scratching an itch on her arm. "If we were to find some, and bless it, or have Lailah bless it ....that might be enough to change her back to the woman you remember, if we can get it on her."

"Or have a priest bless it. I have to stop at a church and pick up some holy water anyway." He could make his own, but he always thought the church stuff was more potent, for some reason. He dropped into a chair to untie his boots and tug them off one at a time. Since she was making herself comfortable, he thought he might as well do the same. It seemed they were staying in for the rest of the night anyway. "That's a big if, Nat. I doubt she remembers me, and even if she does, she's not going to trust me. Not while she's a demon. I wish I knew how it happened. That might help."

Having inspected the bed briefly, Nat made the decision to stay dressed and sleep on top of the covers, sitting herself back down as she gently rubbed the side of her belly. Ana was going through her evening stretches, it seemed. "We may not be able to find that out until after we have brought her back," she warned him gently. "We should trap her, though. If, as you say, she was born of a demon, the exorcism will not touch her. She will be the most dangerous one there."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:32 EST

Rhys set his boots aside and leaned back in the chair, watching his wife thoughtfully. "It's going to be tricky, but I'd really like to save her, if I can. She was really adamant about not wanting to give in to that side of her." Something obviously happened to change that, but he was damned if he knew what it was. "I wish I knew more about her." He wondered if Lailah would know anything. She had to know more than he did, but would she come if he called her"

"She is the one person, isn't she?" Nat asked softly. "The one person you met in Rhy'Din who made you glad to have been there. That is more than enough for me to want to save her with you. But speculating will tell us nothing. I think we need to trap her, and deal with her allies, before we look to bringing her human half back to the surface."

Rhys thought back on all the people he'd met while he was in Rhy'Din, none of whom he'd seen or heard from since. There were a few who he'd considered allies, friends even, and one who'd briefly been a lover, but he hadn't let any of them get close. People who got close to him always got hurt, or at least, that's how it had always seemed before he'd met Nat. After what had happened to David, he just couldn't chance anyone else getting hurt again. Adam was the one friend who Rhys never seemed able to get rid of, no matter how hard he tried, and that had turned out to be a good thing. But as far as people in Rhy'Din were concerned, there were very few he let get close. He hadn't even let Aurelia get close, but she had been one of the few - perhaps the only one - who had offered to help him and had expected nothing in return. "Yeah, I guess she is. I mean, I met a lot of people in Rhy'Din, but....She was different."

"Then we will get her back," Nat told him firmly. She turned to pick up her phone from the bedside table, automatically dialing Vadim's number without considering what time it might be for him. "And I will find some tiger's eye. If that is what worked before, then we should use it again. But ..." She hesitated, listening to the phone ringing on the other end. "Perhaps you talk to Lailah."

"And Adam," he added, not really surprised that she was on the same wavelength as he was. They had come to know each other so well these days that they sometimes finished each other's thoughts. "And then I owe you a foot rub," he told her, with a soft smile on his face, even as she dialed the phone.

"I love you," she informed him, and laughed as Vadim's grumpy voice sounded in her ear. The switch back into Russian came ridiculously easily, but thankfully Rhys had picked up enough of the language by now to know that she was apologizing for waking her friend and galvanizing him into action almost in the same breath.

Rhys chuckled as he overheard Vadim's voice on the other end of the phone and understood bits and pieces of what he and Nat were talking about, or at least, the part where Nat was apologizing. He knew those words well enough. He wasn't overly thrilled with the idea of calling on Lailah, and he wasn't even really sure how to do it, but he thought it was probably better to do it sooner rather than later. Then, he'd call Adam. Not wanting to disturb Nat while she was on the phone, Rhys retreated to the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him. The hell is the matter with me, he thought to himself. I'm summoning an angel in a roach motel bathroom. If she knows I need her, why doesn't she just appear without me having to call" he wondered further.

"Because that would be a violation of your privacy," a familiar voice spoke, and there she was. Lailah appeared with the familiar thunderclap of unseen wings, as calm and unflappable as ever. Admittedly, she did blink into sight standing in the bath-tub, but overall, it was a good entrance. "I do not want you to be constantly aware of me, Rhys. It would be unfair."

Despite the fact that he'd been about to summon her, he couldn't help but be a little taken aback - startled even - when she appeared out of nowhere without any warning. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, nearly tripping over the toilet. The bathroom wasn't really big enough for two, as had been evidenced earlier when Rhys had joined Nat at the sink. "So long as you don't watch while Nat and I are doing the horizontal limbo," he warned her, not really wanting to know.

"Your carnal intimacies are safe from me," the angel assured him, apparently not at all bothered that she was standing in a bath looking down at him.

From the bedroom, Nat's voice reached them. "Rhys" Are you all right?"

"Good because two's company, but three's a crowd," he told her seriously. Unless it's twins, he thought to himself, feeling guilty for thinking it. Old habits died hard, but he didn't really want to sleep with a pair of twins. Not anymore anyway. "Just fine, Nat!" he called back through the door, which probably didn't really do much for muffling sound. "I guess you know what I want to ask you about then," he said, turning his attention back to his guardian.

Lailah's eyes flickered toward the door, a little wary. She and Nat did not exactly get on in the best of terms. "I do not listen in that closely," she assured Rhys. "Your intention to call me brought my attention closer, that is all. There is some problem?"

"I guess you could call it that," Rhys replied, feeling a little silly for calling on her, but they could use all the help they could get. Ironically, Nat had been the one who'd suggested they contact his guardian angel, despite how they might feel about each other. "Do you know anything about a woman named Aurelia?"

Lailah considered him for a long moment before responding in as patient a tone as she could manage. "Any particular woman named Aurelia, or every woman named Aurelia?"

"I...uh..." Rhys had to think a moment. It had been a few years since he'd come back from Rhy'Din, and even longer since he'd seen Aurelia and her whitelighter, whose name still escaped him. "I think her last name was Du-something. Dumont....Dumond....Dupont....I met her on Rhy'Din. Weren't you there watching?"

"Your friend, Aurelia Dupuis," Lailah supplied for him, now he had given her Rhy'Din as a discerning mark. Her expression darkened for a moment. "She fell, three years past, lost to her own nature. Have you discovered her?"

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:33 EST

"Fell, what does that mean' I mean, it's not like she was an angel or anything." Though he thought she might have had an angel helping her, until she had somehow lost herself to the darker side of her nature. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. At least, I think so. Nat saw her in the sink!" Okay, that didn't sound right. "I mean, she was scrying and saw her in the water."

"I do not know quite what happened," Lailah informed him. "She is not of this world, and her guardian could not cross over to this one, if indeed he is still living at all. I believe she was asked for help, help that she gave, and drained herself so entirely of strength in the giving of that help that her demonic nature was able to force itself into the dominant position. Since then, I have heard nothing of her. I did not even think to look on this world for her."

Rhys furrowed his brows at the angel's explanation. It sounded just like something Aurelia would do. In fact, it sounded very much like something he'd do. "Help doing what?" he asked, wondering what she could have gotten herself into that would have drained her that much. "She was wearing a pendant that was supposed to protect her. What happened to that?"

"In order to take so much of her strength from her, I would imagine it was something that required immense effort," Lailah pointed out mildly. "If she is no longer wearing the pendant, then it is safe to assume that her demonic side has destroyed it somehow, no doubt to keep from being suppressed again."

"Would it be possible to turn her back?" he asked further. Save going back in time and changing the past, which was out of the question, there was nothing he could do about what had already happened to her. They had two choices - destroy her or save her, and Rhys preferred the latter, if at all possible.

The angel looked as him as though he was asking her a particularly simple question for no reason other than to hear her speak the answer he already knew. "Her being is dual in nature," she pointed out carefully. "One cannot survive without the other. If the demon is dominant, then the human must be suppressed. Bring the human back to the surface, and you will restore her."

It sounded simple enough in theory, but he knew it was anything but. "Any ideas on how we might do that' Obviously we can't exorcise her. Nat thinks if we can duplicate the pendant she was wearing before, that might work, but if her demonic side destroyed it once, won't it just destroy it again?"

Lailah shook her head. "The demonic part of her can only destroy the pendant if it has complete control," she explained, finally moving to step out of the bath and onto the floor. "In order for it to have taken such complete control, she will have had to have drained her human side of all strength and power and tapped into that demonic power to supplement her failing strength. That human half has had three years to regain strength - if you were to restore the pendant to her, or something that works in a similar way, the human part of her nature should take control again."

Again, it sounded good in theory, but gave him no real information on how to accomplish such a task. "Okay, but how do we do that exactly?" he continued, moving aside to give her as much space as the small bathroom would allow. He idled wondered if Nat was off the phone yet. "I can't exactly Google how to do this."

"You would need a pendant of the same material as the one that was originally used," Lailah informed him calmly. "In theory, that should be all that is needed, but perhaps having it touched by a source of good would give it a little extra power over her demonic side. Once you have it on her, the change could be instant, or it could be gradual, I do not know. But it will happen."

"Okay, let's say I can get my hands on a pendant. That much should be easy. You're a source of good. Would you be willing to touch it?" he asked, deciding it might actually be easier to have her do it than try to explain to a priest why he needed him to bless a gemstone.

"If that is what you wish me to do, then of course," the angel agreed. She was willing to do anything for her former brother in arms, still loyal to him even though he had barely any memory of her at all. "I can infuse it with goodness, if that is what you wish."

"That would be awesome!" Rhys replied with a relieved smile. Well, at least that was settled. Now they just had to find a tiger's eye pendant at a jewelry store somewhere and sort out a plan to trap Aurelia and turn her back. Piece of cake. Actually, he knew it would be nothing of the sort, but at least it was starting to look a little more hopeful. "There's a small group of demons squatting at Dylan's house, and it looks like Aurelia might be the ring leader," he explained further, though he wasn't really sure if she wanted the details or if she even knew them already.

Lailah held his gaze thoughtfully for a moment. "Would you like me to deal with them?" she asked, a genuine offer of assistance given because she knew his wife was getting heavier with child by the day. He would not want Natalya to fight, and yet he would not be able to stop her.

"Deal with them in what way?" Rhys asked with an arched brow, wondering what she meant by that. He didn't want them dead, at least, not their human hosts. He'd killed enough innocents in his day. It wasn't their fault they'd been possessed by demons....or was it' He'd never quite sorted that one out. But then, all humans had a little good and evil inside them, no matter who they were.

Again, Lailah held his gaze, a little blank, not truly understand why he was asking something he already knew the answer to. "Demons should be destroyed," she reminded him. "I am best able to do it without incurring harm to myself or to you. Lure this Aurelia away, and I will deal with the demons."

"If you're talking about killing the humans the demons are wearing, no thanks. There's been enough killing. How are we any better than them if we go around killing innocent people?" he pointed out.

His guardian angel clearly didn't understand his objection. After all, she was essentially wearing a human being for the moment; why should she consider the men and women being worn by demons" They would go to heaven while the demons died in a fiery blaze. What was wrong with that' "Then what do you suggest, Rhys?"

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:33 EST

And that was why he was calling the shots and she was not. He considered a moment. She seemed to want to help, but he couldn't chance her harming any innocents, Aurelia included. She was his friend, and he owed her that much. Besides, it sounded like good intentions had somehow gotten her into this mess. He refused to write her off; he had to do whatever he could to help, believing she would have done the same for him. "Can you find a way to trap Aurelia without harming her" Nat and I can handle the demons."

Lailah seemed almost disappointed at being denied a fight, but acquiesced with grace. "Certainly. Where would you like me to trap her" I assume away from wherever she has established her base with her companions."

"Somewhere safe, where she can't escape but won't get hurt either. And somewhere Nat and I can get to." No, he didn't like the idea of getting Nat involved in the fight, but he had a feeling she'd only balk if he insisted she stay out of it, and she was under the Lady's protection. All Rhys had to do was ask for it, and a group of Knights would be at his disposal if things got out of hand.

"Did you have anywhere specific in mind?" Lailah asked. She didn't want to assume, but she had a feeling that he probably wouldn't approve if she trapped his demonic friend in a river or somewhere similar.

Rhys sighed. So many questions that he didn't really know the answers to. "Can't you just trap her here?" he asked. How hard could it be for an angel to trap a half demon and keep her safe for a few hours"

"Here, in this room?" Lailah asked, growing confused as they continued to talk. "Would it be at all wise to bring her from wherever she is hidden into this conurbation among so many innocents?"

"Conurbation?" Rhys echoed. He wasn't even sure how to spell that, but somehow he got her point. Okay, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea. "Can I get back to you on that?" he asked. "I have to talk to Nat and Adam. Once we know what we're doing, I'll-I'll summon you again. Is that okay?" It was a little creepy to know she was always there, always watching, at least with one eye open. He had to refrain from telling her he'd call her back, as though they were only talking on the phone. Sometimes he wished they were, but then, it was handy to have an angel for your ace in the hole.

"Of course." She inclined her head in agreement, once more glancing to the door. "I believe your wife is finished with her phone call. I will be waiting for your call, Rhys." With a last look to him, she disappeared with a clap of unseen feathered wings, to wherever it was she lingered when she wasn't spying on him.

"Nice to see you, too," he muttered to himself at the angel's slightly abrupt departure. He leaned over to flush the toilet, though he wasn't really sure why, before stepping from the room to rejoin his wife. "Nat' Do you know what conurbation means?"

Nat looked up from her phone, confusion written all over her face. "It is an urban area that has grown through expansion and absorption of other urban areas. Most cities are conurbations. Why?"

"Ha! She made a mistake!" he gloated, seeming rather happy about the fact that his previously-assumed infallible guardian angel made a teensy error, but then he realized that might not be a good thing and the grin turned into a frown. "Nothing," he said, dropping down on to the bed with a sigh. "What did V have to say?"

"What?" Having confused his wife thoroughly with one gloating moment of triumph, Rhys then caught Nat's attention with his query. She leaned into his side with a faint smile. "Vadim has sourced a new age shop in this town for me," she assured him. "I do not think tiger's eye will be difficult for us to get hold of. What did Lailah say?"

Okay, that was good news anyway. Rhys frowned a little worriedly at his wife's question. "She said she can take care of the demons," he replied bluntly. "But you know what that means, and I can't let her do that."

"No, we cannot," she agreed, joining herself to that insistence on doing things the right way, not the easiest. She frowned thoughtfully. "Is there a basement or cellar in the house" Perhaps Lailah could trap Aurelia down there while we deal with the rest of the demons."

Rhys had to think a minute. He hadn't been back to Dylan's house in a few years, and it had been even longer since he'd ventured into the basement. The basement was the place where many of Dylan's secrets had been kept. Rhys hadn't been down there since before Dylan had died. Maybe it was because Dylan had once told him never to go down there, and it had just stuck. No one knew about the basement. Not even Adam knew what was down there. It was a mystery waiting to be solved after fifteen years. If Dylan had a ghost, that's where he'd be. Rhys shuddered at the thought. "Yeah, there's a basement."

Nat studied him for a moment. The confirmation of the house's layout hadn't exactly been what she was going for. "And?" she asked gently. "Could someone lure her down there, do you think?"

"Yeah, someone could lure her down there," he answered, suddenly not liking this whole thing. Not liking the whole idea of going back to the place of his childhood, back to a place where he felt haunted by memories, if not ghosts. But then, hadn't Nat felt the same way about St. Petersburg" The only way to say goodbye to the past was to acknowledge it.

She raised her head, kissing his cheek. "Call Adam," she suggested softly. "We can plan this out in the morning, milaya. One more night will make no difference."

"I'm not liking this, Nat. There's something that doesn't feel right to me." Or maybe it was just the fact that it was all happening in his childhood home. As if going back there wasn't bad enough, now they had to deal with a demon hunt, besides. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt Aurelia. Half-demon or not, I owe it to her to try and help her." It wasn't her fault her mother was a demon, after all, was it' He had to stifle a shudder at that thought, too. Hadn't it been Na'amah's goal to try and get herself pregnant with his child"

"I am not arguing with you, milaya," his wife pointed out in her gentle way. "This Aurelia is your friend, that is all I need to know. We will help her, I promise. But for now, all you can do is call Adam and get some sleep. If you do not, you will be worse than useless in the morning."

Natalya Bristol · Date: 2014-06-07 11:34 EST

"We were never lovers, Nat. You should know that. Hell, to be honest, I hardly knew her. She helped me when she didn't have to, and for that alone, I owe her a debt of gratitude." He quieted a moment, as he considered something else. "There were a few people who tried to helped me," he said with a guilty frown. He'd abandoned most of them without so much as a goodbye, worried sticking around would only put their lives in danger. From the expression on his face, that thought seemed to trouble him, but he had done what he thought necessary for the greater good of everyone involved.

Her hand curled into his, wondering why he felt it necessary to make it so plain what his relationship with this woman had been. "Rhys, I know you were not lovers," she told him quietly. "You do not say her name with the intimacy you use for others. You are concerned for her, and that I understand. But you are not responsible."

"Aren't I?" he countered. Okay, maybe he wasn't responsible for what had happened to Aurelia after he'd left, but there were others. Luke, Kel, Katt....Hell, even Riley and David. He'd abandoned them in Rhy'Din, deciding it was better to go it alone. In all honestly, he didn't really regret that decision, knowing he'd done the right thing for the right reasons. He only felt guilty because he knew they'd more than likely misunderstood his decision and hated him for it, but with any luck, they were still alive and kicking. He couldn't say for sure that would have been the case had he stayed in Rhy'Din. Fate seemed to have a way of taking care of things, and Rhys couldn't deny that, as far as his life was concerned, things couldn't have turned out better, but he still felt a pang of guilt for the hurt he'd caused others. What about all the people he'd killed trying to rid the world of demons" Maybe, if he could save Aurelia, it would make up for all the others he couldn't save.

"No, you are not," she insisted firmly. "You cannot live this way, taking the weight of everyone you have ever met on your shoulders. People have free will, they make their own choices in life. You do what you must, and so do they. You are not responsible for what they choose to do, or the consequences of those choices."

"I know," he agreed, knowing she was right, at least logically. His heart told him something else, but was it personal guilt he was feeling or that old familiar burden of responsibility toward humanity, in general? "You should get some sleep," he told her, just as she'd told him. "I have to talk to Adam. There's something bothering me about all this, and I have to figure out what it is."

She sighed softly, knowing she couldn't force him to rest, no matter how much he needed to. "Very well," she agreed, brushing a kiss to his cheek. "Do not be too long." Her hand gently caressed his cheek. "I love you, my Rhys. We will solve this, together."

He'd even tried to leave Nat behind once, but unlike the others, she hadn't given up so easily. He smiled as she touched his cheek and covered her hand with his own before bringing it to his lips for a tender, affectionate kiss. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he told her in return, needing her to know that no matter what mistakes he'd made in the past, she was the one thing he didn't regret. She was the one person he loved more than any other. He touched his fingers to her stomach, swollen with their child. "Don't keep your mother up tonight. Let her get some rest."

One last stretch from the unborn girl in her womb made Nat smile. "She always responds to you," she chuckled softly, drawing him close for a tender kiss. "Come to bed soon. I do not sleep so well if you are not there to hold me."

"I won't be long. Promise," he replied, touching a tender kiss against her lips. "Love you," he added softly. "Both of you." And with that said, he tucked her into bed and got down to the business of calling Adam and sorting a few things out. She was right - he couldn't get much more done tonight, but things would look better in the morning.

((It's never straightforward with these two, is it' But, yanno, yay for the chance to save an old friend! Stay tuned to see what happens when they storm Dylan's house - many, many thanks to Rhys' player!))

Topic: Return

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