(The following entries in this thread are some of Rhys' memoirs written years later regarding his road trip from New York City to Tucson while being pursued by demons.)

It wasn't demons that haunted my dreams those first few nights. It was vampires. Maybe that's why I stopped in Pennyslvania. To pay my respects to the ghosts I'd left behind there. I don't know. I know I had stopped against my better judgement. I should have kept going. I should have driven straight through. God knows I wasn't sleeping anyway. Not really. Restless nights filled with horrid memories and omens of things that might or might not ever happen.

Arizona was only two days away. Two days. It might as well have been halfway across the globe. The phone calls to Riley were all that kept me going those first few days. She was my lifeline. I wondered if she had any clue how much hearing her voice meant to me. How desperately I missed her. How terrified I was that I'd never see her again. But I digress.

The old house was a mess. I hadn't been there in years, but John's wards still seemed to be in place. It didn't look like anyone had been there, but dust and moths and maybe a few rats. I knew I should have put the place up for sale years ago, but something had stopped me. I'd told myself I didn't have time. Calling a realtor wasn't at the top of my priority list, but it was just an excuse. The truth was I wasn't ready to part with it yet. Even after fourteen years, I wasn't ready to say good-bye.

Dylan's grave was in better shape than the house, but that's because I'd made sure he'd had a proper burial. He'd asked to be cremated, but I couldn't bear to do it, and as his closest family member, it was up to me to decide. David railed against burial, worried Dylan would turn into a ghoul or something worse, but I had been raised Catholic and something in me just couldn't do it. I'd live to regret that decision later, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was rainy that day. It was the worst summer of my life, and the weather wasn't much better. It should have been a hot, humid, sunny day, but instead it was cold, rainy, and dismal. Just the sort of day made for hanging around graveyards and grieving. I spent a good part of the day talking to Dylan, explaining what had happened in New York, but dead as he was, he could only listen. Somehow, though, I knew what he'd tell me, if he were still alive — "You have to keep fighting, kid. You can't let them win." How many times had he told me that' How many times had he told me to always do exactly the opposite of what the demons wanted me to do. I didn't know who the demon was that was tormenting me. Not yet. But I knew what it wanted.

It was Orla who'd first warned us about that — that the demons would do everything in their power to keep us apart. I didn't understand why. None of us did, but it had something to do with stopping the Apocalypse. The first time I'd heard that I'd thought it was absurd. What could we possibly have to do with that' I learned later that Orla had been right. She had lost her life trying to help us, but she wasn't the first, and she wouldn't be the last.

Maybe it was Orla's death that made me stop in P.A. Maybe it was the dreams. I don't know. But that night I had one of the worst dreams of my life. I saw Riley die, her heart ripped out by another Lycan. I knew what would happen next. The other Cat would eat it, just like I'd seen her do to the poor bastard that had been Chris. What the hell kind of bizarre ritual is that' She explained it to me eventually, but just thinking about it still makes my stomach churn. I don't know what I'd thought when I'd seen Riley do it. I'd turned away, unable to watch, horrified by what I was seeing. And yet, despite that, I'd still fallen in love with her.

John had said Riley scared him. Maybe she scared some part of me, too, but somehow I knew she'd never hurt me. Never do to me what she'd done to Chris. He'd been possessed by a demon, after all. She'd quite possibly saved both our lives taking his. I knew in my heart that she loved me, that she'd do anything for me, even die for me, and that scared the hell out of me. Enough people had died because of me. I wouldn't add Riley's or John's names to the list.

And so, I started my journey on the long road to Hell.

(The following takes place at David's house after Rhys buries David, and Coyote gives him the dream of a possible future.)

The sky had grown dark and ominous with an otherworldly blackness, when only a moment before the sun had been shining. I knew it was no storm that was fast approaching, but a horde of demons the likes of which I hadn't seen in years. I knew I was over my head, so I did what any proper demon hunter would and tried to haul my butt out of there as fast as I could, but I was already too late.

The demon bitch was wearing the body of a redhead this time, probably a whore from the looks of her. I had never had much luck with redheads, not that it mattered. She was persistent, I'll give her that, but she wasn't going about it the right way at all. If she'd really wanted me, she should have asked if I'd be willing to trade my soul for Riley's. Sometimes demons weren't all that bright. That's probably how they'd ended up becoming demons.

"Rhys, darling," she said, smiling seductively, "why must you make things so difficult?"

"Bite me," I retorted. Not exactly the most original or intelligent of replies, and certainly not something you'd say to a vampire, but it was the first thing that popped out of my mouth. I was seriously starting to tire of her games. I knew I had a couple of choices. I could either try and shoot my way out of there or make a run for it.

The problem with demons is that you can't really kill them. The best you can hope for is wounding the body it's wearing badly enough to render it useless, or if you have enough time, you can exorcise its arse back to hell, but at the time, dealing with an entire horde was way above my pay grade, not to mention my skill level.

As it happened, the choice was made for me.

The next thing I knew, the bitch had flung me across the room without barely lifting a finger. I was slammed against a wall and fell to the floor, dazed and confused. It seemed she was done playing games and finally meant business.

"What the hell do you want?" I managed to mumble. I already knew the answer to the question, but I thought I might buy myself a little time by asking. I knew I wasn't going anywhere until the room stopped spinning.

"Darling," she almost purred, "I've told you before. I just want you."

I blinked a few times to clear my vision and noticed two more demons had appeared, one on each side of her. The poor bastards whose meat they were wearing looked like bikers. Not the aging, flabby ones you always ran into in bars who were trying to recapture their youth. These guys were big and mean-looking. They probably both had rap sheets the length of War and Peace. I'd run into jerks like them before. They were the kind of guys who would beat the crap out of you just for looking at them the wrong way and not bother to ask questions later.

She flicked a finger at them, and before I could react, one of them had yanked me off the floor and pinned me against the wall, a hand around my throat.

"I don't want to hurt you Rhys," I heard the bitch say, "but one way or another, you're coming with me."

"Like....hell....I....am," I managed to rasp, one slow word at a time. I could feel my throat closing, and the harder I tried to suck in a breath, the worse it hurt. Lights were starting to dance before my eyes, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I blacked out. It was act now or become the demon's bitch for all eternity.

I somehow managed to pull the .22 from my jeans, shove it into the demon's gut, and squeeze the trigger. I knew from the look on his face, he was as surprised as I was. He promptly let me go, suddenly more concerned with his own bleeding gut than with carrying out his mistress' orders.

I doubled over, coughing and gasping for breath. My lungs felt like they were on fire. The other one lunged toward me and somehow I managed to squeeze off another shot and shove the wounded demon into the other two, giving me just enough time to stumble past them.

I didn't get very far before I felt her fling me across the room again, like a rag doll. This time, I crashed into a cabinet, glass shattering around me. I laid there dazed for a moment before the second demon came at me.

I don't know how I managed to keep my wits and stay conscious, but I squeezed off another shot, this one ripping into the guy's knee, giving me enough time to stumble to my feet and head for the door, but before I could get there, I heard another shot and felt a searing pain tear through my left shoulder. I looked up and saw a third demon standing in my way, a gun pointed in my general direction. If I wanted to escape, I'd have to get through him first. I was so close and yet so far.

"You're surrounded, Rhys, darling," I heard the demon bitch say behind me. "There's no escape."

I felt my shirt getting wet and sticky with blood, and I gritted my teeth against the pain.

"The Lycan bitch is as good as dead. You can't win, darling, so you might as well give up while you still can."

I felt anger rising in me like a tidal wave at the mention of Riley, and despite my aching body, I felt more determined than ever. I turned to face her, my face flushing with hatred and rage. Too many people had died already; I wasn't going to let them add Riley's name to the list.

I called up the words than had been drilled into my head since boyhood. "Crux sancta sit mihi lux. Non draco sit mihi dux..." I watched with some sadistic sense of satisfaction, as she grimaced in pain. I knew it would take more than a few words of Latin to drive her and the horde back to hell, but at least, it might buy me enough time to make my escape.

I continued praying, turning back toward the door and gritting my teeth as I fired a fourth shot into the one demon who stood between myself and freedom. The bullet found its mark, blood blossoming on his chest. He went down in a heap, and I rushed past him into the eerie darkness that seemed more night than day.

Somehow, I managed to get to my car, but just as I was opening the door, I heard a howl, like that of a pack of hounds, which sent a terrifying shiver up my spine. I'd read about hell hounds, and I'd talked to other hunters who'd encountered them — those who'd been lucky enough to live long enough to tell the tale — but I'd never met with any myself, and I wasn't sure if Dylan or David had either. According to legend, if you saw one three times, you were a goner. There was no way I was going to die that way. Not if I had anything to say about it.

I fumbled around for my keys with a shaking hand and managed to get the Mustang going, breathing a sigh of relief and muttering a prayer of gratitude to whatever God was listening. I squealed the tires and pulled out onto the road, heading in the direction of the monastery, hoping I could get there before the horde caught up with me. The last thing I heard as I drove away was the sound of her laughter. I knew I hadn't seen the last of her yet.