I don't own any of the characters except Kythira! Really wish I owned Nick and Savitar though!! Lots of things I could do with those two!!! LOL!

Set after Dream Warrior.

Enjoy!!

It was so dark, so cold and she was in so much pain. Her body throbbed and the lacerations were open and bleeding. The warm liquid rushed out of the wounds, coating her body before falling to the floor where it was collected by small demons with long tongues and sharp claws. They lapped the blood up and deposited into jars, then looked up at her, licked their wrinkled lips and started to chew on the raw edges of the wounds. She screamed.

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

Nick sat bolt upright as he heard the screaming inside his head. His eyes searched the room frantically but all he saw were the blackout curtains and the various articles of furniture scattered around. He lifted one hand and pushed damp hair out of his eyes, letting it fall back over his shoulders. It had grown ridiculously recently and was nearly to his shoulder blades. If he cut it, it grew quicker.

Sighing, Nick pulled on some sweat pants and walked out into the hall. He'd been hearing the same screams for the past two weeks and every time it felt as though there was someone in the room with him. Every time he had to get up and check on his housemates.

The Dogs of War were a scary ass bunch of Dark Hunters that didn't weaken in each others presence. They were sadistic motherfuckers and he loved them. Now he checked on their sleeping forms, making sure his new guardians and friends were safe from the sunlight and anything else.

In the last few months, Nick's paranoia had risen to a ludicrous level and he was getting damn edgy whenever he went out.

But Noir was still out there and he would love nothing more than to get his creepy evil hands on Nick.

He wasn't about to let that happen.

Knowing he wouldn't sleep again, Nick logged onto the Dark Hunter website and was surprised that there were quite a few Dark Hunters logged on. Usually it was pretty empty. He entered one particular convo – the one that had the most immortals logged into it – and just read over the previous words. Then he added to it.

You guys gossip like a bunch of old women, you know that?

Blade: Hey Nicky boy. It's past your bedtime isn't it?

Go fuck yourself, Blade.

Zoë: We were just talking Nick. Maybe you can enlighten us on something. Your DH mark? Is it from where Artemis bitch slapped you? I can see why she would do it. You've had a mouth on you as of late.

Hey Zo. And yes it is actually. She really is the bitch goddess everyone calls her. What you guys been up to? How's the Daimon activity where you are? My Daimons have lame legs and I need some good sport.

Dragon: Lame legs here, Malachai.

Blade: Not too bad down here, you're welcome to the slippery buggers.

Zoë: I like my Daimons, they're very polite. One yesterday told me I had a hot ass.

The conversation continued with the normal banter, banter he'd been left out of for far too long. He felt part of the world in those few hours he sat in front of the computer. But he couldn't ignore the screaming any longer. Moving slowly through the house, he stepped out into the garden and sat underneath a willow tree, his back to the trunk.

Jericho had told him that it would take meditation, at first to control his new powers and that's what he did. Closing his eyes, Nick controlled his breathing and reached out with his mind, replaying the screams and tracing them backwards. What he hit was not what he had expected.

Amethyst eyes popped open in shock as she felt the stranger in her head. Kythira looked around to see if anyone else was hearing anything, but they were too busy screaming, or moaning in pain. Thankfully she had a reprieve for about an hour after each session. If they pushed her for any longer, then nothing would be able to contain her. Curious, and grateful for the distraction, Ky closed her eyes and focussed on the surge of power. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it was on the surface world, and it belonged to a Malachai, a young one. One who had found her accidentally and was now probing her mind with a polite and gentle tickle of power. He was strong, and she felt quite content to let him play around in her head if it took her away from Azmodea for a while. Maybe he could find and rescue her.

It was a useless notion but one she entertained frequently. She opened her memories, not wanting to shock him, but needing him to want to find her. She was desperate.

Nick jerked back. The memories had come too fast, too thick, too vivid. The pain and despair he'd felt had not been his own but the females. He'd felt every lash, bite, stab in the few minutes he'd been connected to her and his body ached in accordance. Then he felt the gentle knocking, and slowly opened the mental door. It was her, the young female with the mighty power. He closed his eyes again and was instantly dragged into her head.

She sat beneath a sultan's tent, beside a turquoise lake surrounded by a field of black orchids.

Her hair was silver and it flowed down her back and over her shoulders in soft waves, pooling in her lap. She smiled when she saw him and waved him over.

Utterly perplexed, he walked towards her, hands in his sweat pants pockets stood in front of her, unsure.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting a gorgeous half naked guy to show up, but I'm damn glad you did. Wanna sit?" Her amethyst eyes glowed as she stared up the length of him and waited.

Eventually, Nick managed to sit down opposite her, couldn't take his eyes off her, and stared unashamedly.

She laughed.

"Like what you see, Malachai?" He nodded absently, and then leaned towards her.

"Am I doing this?"

"Partially. You opened your mind to mine and I invited you here. It needs both of us to maintain the link. You're doing good."

"Who are you?" Nick wasn't usually this stuck for words, but something about her presence made him speechless.

"I'm Kythira. The goddess of Anarchy. Noir has me locked up somewhere in Azmodea and I really want to get out. He's bleeding me for my disaster." She frowned and pouted.

"Ok. That made sense……bleeding you for your disaster?"

"Oh, yeah. My blood, if poured somewhere or sprayed on something, will make something very catastrophic happen. Usually lawlessness, mayhem, buildings falling down. Stuff like that. What's wrong with you, Malachai?"

"My name's Nick, and what do you mean?"

"Ummm, well, you initiated the link. Something must have been wrong with you. Having strong feelings of rebellion? Want to cause chaos? Cause I'm sort of tied to stone walls at the moment. Can't really help you." Her speech rambled and was, like her, chaotic. But he caught the gist of it.

He brushed his hair away from his face and leaned back on his hands. Studying her, he found her lovely. Her face was long and softly rounded, the silver waves caressing her porcelain skin, so translucent, the veins showed blue beneath the surface. She was so delicate. Her nose was perfectly straight, her lips lush and an iridescent pearl. But it was her eyes that mesmerised him.

A deep purple, like amethyst, the iris surrounded by a thick black ring, bolts of blue shooting towards the pupil. They were the only colour in her face, even the gentle blush was nothing next to them. Her lashes were long, silver and when she blinked, they almost reached her pale eyebrows.

She sat with her legs crossed beneath her, relaxed, delicate hands folded in her lap, braiding random pieces of hair intricately together. Her body was petite, gently curved and clothed in a tight black tank top – the anarchy symbol sewn in - , skinny black jeans and black pumps. The black contrasted wildly with her silver hair and pale skin and made her seem ethereal and divine. Which he supposed she was.

Nick felt ashamed in her presence, felt the need to hide the tattoo on his face and put some clothes on.

She'd stopped talking and was just sat staring at him, with a sad, sympathetic smile on her face. Kythira liked the Malachai. Liked his thoughts about her, liked the way he looked at her. Inside his head, his response to her words was snappy and funny, but he kept changing the words, trying to find a way to answer that he believed would be fitting for her ears.

So she said what was in his head. His shocked face, open mouthed, was hilarious and she giggled. Then he truly spoke to her. As in properly, without censoring his thoughts or words. The old Nick came roaring to the forefront, eager to be back after the trauma of his rebirth. He wasn't caustic or nasty, like he'd become after his Dark Hunter birth, he was sarcastic, but witty, and Kythira laughed so hard. But then she felt the telltale tugging on her body, looked down to see gashes opening up in her skin, blood pouring. Nick reached for her but she shook her head.

"I have to go back now. Will you meet me here tomorrow, at the same time?" Nick nodded and she launched herself into his arms. "Thank you, my Malachai. You have no idea what you've done for me." Kissing him softly on the lips, the goddess of Anarchy disappeared.

Nick woke in his own body, still outside, beneath the tree. Her coffee fragrance lingered behind and he stood up, padded back to bed with her scent on his skin.