Brave... Part 2: A Matter Of Trust

"Demona." Elisa repeated, going back over and sitting cross-legged in front of her. "My name is Elisa—Elisa Maza. I'm a detective with the 23rd precinct." She knew maybe she should be more cautious about this, but Demona didn't seem to be hostile, much—though she was clearly dangerous, or could be if she wanted to be. The bottom line was though, she'd decided to trust this woman to an extent. She had few concrete reasons she could think of as to why. She was mostly going with her gut. Truthfully, it all seemed just slightly unreal to her. Like as though, when she hadn't been paying enough attention, she'd stepped into another world—one like her own, but... with obvious differences. She wasn't usually the kind of person who saw the use in believing in things without evidence, but Demona was right there in front of her—very undeniable. What that actually meant about anything though, she hadn't a clue. She was tired. She'd been up since five AM, running around the city for one reason or another. She hadn't been getting enough sleep the last few days either, in fact, and her adrenalin was pumping because she'd just been in a fight for her life. She knew that wasn't exactly a state that lent itself best to critical thinking. So she was just going to go with it for now, and hope it started to all make a bit more sense as time went on. "So, care to tell me your story?" She asked.

The woman studied her a moment. "I came here looking for... information, on a personal matter. These men were waiting for me. If you hadn't shown up when you had, I likely might be their prisoner by now." She explained.

"Do you know why they were after you? Who sent them?" Were her next questions.

"I have a... strong suspicion." Demona confessed.

"So, who's the suspect?" Elisa asked.

Demona seemed to consider whether or not to answer for a moment, but, in the end, she spoke. "David Xanatos." She told her.

"...Okay..." Elisa immediately recognized the name of course—he was one of the wealthiest, most influential men in the city—the world, probably. That he would be involved in wrongdoing came as little surprise to her. Rich men rarely got to be rich men by playing by the rules. The trouble was, of course, it was a hugely daunting thing, the prospect of having to try to prosecute one of them. She'd faced more than a few cases with ties to people like that, and they were never easy and rarely was she truly satisfied with the results. "Do you know why?"

"I imagine I would have been destined for a laboratory somewhere." She replied, not telling Elisa that there was more to it than that of course.

"Alright... That makes about as much sense as anything I suppose... And, the wings and everything?" She asked. "Did those... come from a laboratory somewhere, or did you come by them naturally?"

"...Naturally. Humans aren't the only species that call this world home, detective, they aren't even the first... At one time, there were many like me." She explained in a softer voice. "Whole clans..."

"...What happened to them?" Elisa asked.

"Your kind." Demona told her accusingly, her eyes growing hard. "Humans have always hunted us."

"That's..." Elisa couldn't quite think of anything to say to that. She looked into the other woman's eyes. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?"

"Traditionally, my kind do not lie... though, I have had to learn over the years." She confessed. "There are not many of us left, I think." She admitted.

"...Well, I somehow don't think bringing you down to the station to give a statement would do anyone any good, least of all either of us. But, are you sure you don't want my help?" Elisa asked. "I'm not sure what I could do, but... I want to try, if you'll let me. I know some first aide at least, I dated a nurse for a while..." She told her.

They heard sirens in the distance.

"Sounds like someone called in the disturbance." Elisa observed.

"I need to leave." Demona told her, getting to her feet and groaning a little from the effort.

"Can you, um—can you fly?" Elisa asked.

Demona looked at her and a hint of a smile crossed her lips. "I can manage." Though, privately, she was less than completely sure of that. She still felt dizzy from all the electricity they'd pumped through her.

"...One of them got away, you know." Elisa told her. "I counted when I first came in. One of the two men I shot in the shoulder is missing... How likely is it they have reinforcements nearby, do you think?"

"...In other words, you suspect a second ambush?" Demona looked to her.

"They had to know this was a risk, even at this time of night." She allowed. "It's not out of the question they'd have a second team nearby, either as backup or as a failsafe. A man like Xanatos could certainly afford it."

"What do you suggest?" Demona asked, a little amused, but also taking this very seriously.

"I'm not sure." She considered. "If they had a second ambush planned, I imagine they'd be expecting you to leave by air."

"They would, at that." Demona conceded, privately considering that, indeed, it wouldn't be out of character for David Xanatos to plan something of the kind. He'd know he'd never get a better chance once she knew his intentions. He'd know this was his best opportunity. "Perhaps..." She looked at the conscious mercenary whom Elisa had cuffed.

"...You don't want him to overhear what you want to tell me?" Elisa asked.

"It would be better if he did not." Demona confirmed. What she was considering doing was going to be a risk—if a tactically sound one that Xanatos wouldn't see coming. Of course, the seemingly sincere Detective Maza could, herself, be a trap of some kind. It seemed unlikely of course, given the circumstances, but then humans had caught her off guard with the depths of their cunning before, and the idea of a human who would come to her aide as Elisa Maza had just done and not look upon her with distrust or any more fear than the respect for her blatantly superior physicality would warrant seemed nearly as farfetched. Nevertheless, her instincts were telling her that the detective was not deceiving her—was, in fact, being nothing less than wholly genuine—as hard as that was for her to readily accept.

Elisa looked between the conscious mercenary and Demona, then at the other mercenaries. He was still the only one awake, though she knew it was possible that could change. Ideally, she wished she had more handcuffs of course, but she'd only brought the one pair. "Let's go to another room then. They probably won't give us any more trouble until the squad cars arrive." She went over and offered Demona a hand up.

Demona looked a little unsure, but then reached out and took her hand, getting to her feet. It was interesting to Elisa how Demona seemed to wrap her wings about her like a cape. She did it like it was a normal everyday thing for her, and not something completely in the realm of the fantastic, as it seemed to be from Elisa's perspective.

"My bag." Demona spoke, looking around the room a moment before she caught sight of it.

Elisa followed her gaze, considered a moment. "I'll get it." She offered, going over to get it out from under a fallen desk while Demona watched on. When she'd retrieved it, she turned around to find Demona regarding her with open curiosity. "Got it." She told her.

Demona actually smiled a little bemusedly at that. "So I see." She told her, offering her something that might by some stretch of the imagination, be considered a small smile.

Elisa smiled a little too, and walked back to her, handing her the bag once she'd returned.

"This isn't going to be all that easy to explain, you know." Elisa commented as they walked from the room and she held the door open for the other woman. "Everything else wouldn't be a problem, but the claw marks? That's a tough one."

"...You seem resourceful. I'm sure you'll think of something." Demona replied as they came out into the stairway.

"Watch your feet, there's glass..." Elisa watched as Demona walked on it with no worry evident.

"It can't penetrate my skin as it would a human's." She explained, wondering at how Elisa seemed to be at ease with her, perhaps even trust her, so easily. She couldn't help it, she wanted to offer that same kind of trust in return.

"Evidently." Elisa allowed. "Which way are we going?" She asked, referring to up towards the roof or down towards the street.

"Down." Demona told her.

"If you're sure." She agreed. They walked down the steps to the second floor. "Okay, this should be far enough away. He won't be able to hear."

"Against my better judgment, I'm trusting you, Elisa." Demona told her, looking meaningfully into Elisa's eyes a moment, then bringing her wrist up to her lips, closing her eyes, and softly kissing the bracelet she wore there. There was no sound—even the background sounds of the city seemed to fade away—but there was a kind of... resonance in the air. It wasn't something Elisa heard with her ears, more it was something she felt with her entire body.

As Elisa watched, sparkles of light and mist danced around Demona and she... changed. Soon, she was a human woman, with the same wild red hair, and, Elisa noted more than she really had previously, not very many clothes on. No shoes, most problematically...

Demona opened her eyes and met her gaze—Elisa recognized her. "You're Dominique Destine?"

Dominique Destine was the owner and C.E.O. of Nightstone Unlimited, a rather large global corporation known for its work in research and development as well as for its rather extensive charitable endeavors, especially in Central America. Elisa remembered seeing an interview with her on the news a few weeks ago in fact—she'd actually been impressed, as she recalled. The woman had just seemed... like she'd had character, ethics even—strong ones. She'd been undeniably attractive too, with a very appealing voice—one she only now belatedly recognized.

"Very few people know my secret, Detective Maza. Can I count on your... discretion?" She asked.

"I um, how did you do that though? Change like that?" Elisa asked.

"Magic. A spell, given to me by... a friend, for my protection." She told her.

"Magic now..." She shook her head a little.

"My secret, Elisa—will you keep it?" Dominique pressed, moving forwards towards Elisa, her eyes letting Elisa know that she was very serious about having an answer.

Elisa sighed and closed her eyes. "I'll give you the same deal that the lawyers and therapists give." She offered, having opened her eyes and met Dominique's gaze again as she'd spoken.

"In other words: as long as I don't tell you I'm planning to commit a felony, you'll keep my secrets?" She asked before Elisa could explain.

"Pretty much. That good enough for you?" She asked.

"In fact, it is. Thank you, Elisa." Dominique told her, appraising Elisa thoughtfully again. She trusted that answer more than she would have a blanket promise of loyalty, actually.

There was the sound of cars pulling up, sirens shutting off, car doors opening.

"Um, I think this is the part where I offer you my jacket?" Elisa observed, looking down at the other woman's state of dress. What she was wearing could pass for evening wear perhaps, but it was very eye-catching against the woman's now pale, human skin... especially lacking shoes. "Unless you can, you know, wave your hand and conjure up some less conspicuous clothing?"

"I can't, actually." Dominique told her as Elisa started to take off her jacket. Dominique held up a hand to forestall her though, smiling a little at the kind gesture. "That doesn't mean I don't have another option though." She brought her bag around from where it had been hung over her shoulder. It was a small pack she'd carried in case she needed to appear as a human for some reason. She opened it and took out a set of clothing, including shoes and a jacket.

"Oh." Elisa said, smiling. She laughed a little. "Well, that makes sense, I guess." She admitted. She looked down the stairs. "How fast can you get dressed?" She asked.

"I..." Dominique looked to Elisa. "I'd rather not have to explain my presence here, if I can avoid it. Can I? Avoid it, I mean?" She asked.

"I... well," Elisa considered and saw the problem. They could say she was kidnapped by the mercenaries upstairs or something... It was about the only way to explain things that that she could think of at the moment—but putting Dominique through the media frenzy that could well follow seemed, to say the least, not a very kind option. Not to mention the fact that there was a very real possibility that the story wouldn't hold up under the kind of scrutiny that the media might bring to bear against them. "I see your point. Let's see. Maybe you can wait here?" She offered. "If you close the door and duck down, they won't see you. I can come back for you once the coast's clear?"

"...Alright. I think I'll... just take you up on that, thank you." Dominique answered, going to the door, her hand on the doorknob. She looked into Elisa's eyes again and held her gaze a moment more, just to assure herself again of her choice to trust this woman, and then she turned and closed the door behind her, sitting down on the floor against the wall so she couldn't be seen through the window in the door that was higher up. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Elisa Maza identifying herself to her colleagues, telling them the crime scene was upstairs. Then more footsteps as they all went up to the third floor. It was all somehow anti-climactic, she thought to herself. A part of her had been sure, even though her feelings had very definitely told her otherwise, that the police detective who'd come to her rescue would betray her in the end. That part of her still thought it was likely, in fact—that either this was all some sort of subterfuge, or that Elisa's good intentions wouldn't last. No human's ever had where she'd been concerned, and she had been alive for a very long time—too long, she sometimes thought.

When the police officers were far enough away, she set about getting dressed over the outfit she wore as a gargoyle. A pair of jeans, a blouse, and a thin leather jacket, socks and flats. High end, tailored clothing, but not very remarkable at a glance. It was uncomfortable and tiring to get the clothes on, her muscles and tendons protesting the exertion after having gone through such abuse.

She got it done though, and, with relief, let herself slip down to sit against the wall again.

She let her eyes close. She really was very tired from her ordeal tonight. The net and the prodding she'd taken from those javelins had taken more out of her than she'd wanted to let on. And now that she'd magically shifted to human form, she feared it was taking even more of a toll.

She let her thoughts drift back to what had happened moments before. Elisa Maza was obviously a very capable woman, to have taken on so many and won through as she had. And there was just something about her eyes... She had such beautiful eyes. Honest, reliable, open, true, even brave... Rare qualities in anyone, but even more so in a human. She felt her body shutting down from exhaustion, but was unable to stop it from happening. As she fell asleep, she found herself thinking that Elisa Maza somehow reminded her of a gargoyle... Maybe that's why'd been willing to trust her as she had...?

Some minutes later, from the shadows of a building across the way, Raven, one of the exiled children of Oberon, watched his enemy making her escape with the help of a human police woman. Seeing her, he seethed with a hatred he hadn't been able to shake since the last time he'd seen her, over nine years ago... He'd tried to let it go, truly he had tried to... It simply wasn't in him to be forgiving however, it seemed—for whatever reason, it never had been. So here he was, and he was walking a fine line... He smiled to himself though. No one was making this easy for him, and that was good. It might even be half the reason this endeavor of his appealed to him so. He'd never liked easy. He wanted to draw this out. He wanted to enjoy this.

Was the police woman an ally of hers? One that had been waiting nearby in case something happened? He wouldn't have thought so, as her accomplice was clearly only human, but he supposed it didn't matter. Whether by chance or by prior intent, the human was part of the game now... His game—and she'd shown herself to be resourceful too, hadn't she? Getting Destine out of there with her fellow police none the wiser.

Looking closer, he could just almost sense something disturbingly familiar about her... Some magic, perhaps? It was so very faint, he wondered if he were imagining it. Whatever it might or might not be though, he thought he might like to scent this woman a little closer sometime soon, if only to set his mind to ease...

Behind him, a door opened and he stirred from his musings, turning and cocking his head at the man before him now. One of the mercenaries his human lover had hired had managed to escape, had he? The man looked injured and frayed about the edges of him. Even though he and his cohort had failed in their assigned task, this one had been more resourceful than his fellows at least, to escape when they hadn't. That deserved rewarding, didn't it? He could be kind at times... when that kindness had been well earned.

Raven stepped from the shadows—a tall, well-built Native American man with wind-swept chin-length black hair, dressed in an impeccable business suit. "Travis Wells, wasn't that your name?" Raven asked.

The man turned to look at him, surprised into a defensive stance. He relaxed seeing who it was though. "...Mr. Blackfeather, sir." He spoke, taking off his helmet to reveal matted dust-brown hair and tired gray eyes.

"You've been injured." Raven smiled a peaceful smile, walking over to him and touching his cheek. As he did, the man's injures vanished and he fainted. Raven swept him up into his arms and looked out into the night, out across the city... towards the Eyrie Building. Curiously, he imagined his heart might just be pulling him back there...

He walked to the building's edge and stepped off, his changeling body shimmering in the moonlight as he slipped into the familiar shape of the creature that was his namesake and flew away unseen, into the night, a small field mouse caught in his beak.

( to be continued )

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