Scara paled.
"I tried," Jason said. "I really did; she held on for a long time, but..." He shook his head. "I didn't get here soon enough. I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" Scara snarled, stomping to her feet. Past and present mixed in a horrendous blend and she shoved him back. "She's NOT dead! She can't be!"
"She IS," Jason said sharply, glaring back. "I did everything I could to stop it, but she lost too much blood; her system was already shutting down before I even touched her!"
"Uh, guys?"
"She was alive when I brought her back!" Scara snapped, ignoring her Squire.
"'Was,' key word," Jason returned. "Was alive. She's not anymore!"
"Guys?"
"So what took you so long, bastard?" Scara growled. "You should have gotten here sooner!"
"I got here as fast as Taylor could get me here!" Jason answered. "Some things just can't be stopped!"
"GUYS!"
"WHAT?" Both of them pinned Taylor with a fierce glare, but he wasn't even looking at them. He pointed.
There on the edge of the couch was the girl Scara had brought in, only she was sitting up and silently staring at them. And instead of her short hair and electric blue eyes, her dark hair now hit her mid back and the irises that stared at them almost in boredom were molten gold.
It was Jason's turn to pale.
"S-she... I-I-I swear, she was... dead..."
Scara, on the other hand, was relieved.
"Should've listened to me, bitch," she scoffed at him. "I told you she wasn't dead."
"...I think I'm siding with Jason on this one," Taylor said slowly, still staring at the girl. "That is not the same girl you brought in... I've been around a lot of crazy-powerful creatures, but this one? This one trumps them all."
A smirk worked across the young woman's face, a deep chuckle working up her throat; when she opened her mouth, it wasn't her own voice speaking, it was a deep, masculine one that made of think of thunder in the distance, quiet yet booming.
"The mortal medic is right. This body was dead. But I've brought it back, with this vessel's mind safely recovering in her subconscious."
Scara's relief melted into a passive expression, making it impossible to read her thoughts. Along with her ability to read a person's true intent, which was shattered by whatever this creature was, she could completely close herself off from everyone but a select few, among whom was Acheron. She'd always known Acheron was more than what he said, and her ability was proof, but she never said anything, knowing better than most that it wasn't a good idea to dig into any Dark-Hunter's past.
If this creature showed any sign that it knew what she was thinking, feeling, then she knew it was more powerful than Acheron, and to be honest, that scared her.
"I don't suppose you're just going to leave now, are you?" she asked blandly. "And trying to kill you would kill her too?"
The golden-eyed being rolled his eyes as he sat back on the couch. "Considering my presence in this body is what is keeping her alive, I do not think it'd be a wise idea to try to kill me. Regardless, you wouldn't be able to anyway." The masculine voice shrugged then. "And while I have the ability to give Acheron a good run for his money, you really have no need to fear me. I'm not here to kill anyone." Just as she had thought, he could tell what she was both thinking and feeling. In fact, it was almost child's play for him.
A momentary tic of her jaw was the only outward sign of her annoyance and agitation, and inwardly, she kept a careful reign on her thoughts and emotions. Whoever it was, she refused to show fear.
"Then what are you here for?" Taylor asked, sounding surprisingly calm. Jason, on the other hand, was practically shaking out of his boots. Scara had to give her Squire credit; though he was spooked and ready to bolt at the first sign of a fight, he maintained his composure and made himself to stay in place. If this didn't end in his death, she wouldn't be complaining about being forced to have a Squire anymore, that was for sure.
"Simple really. Helping keep my vessel alive until the other half of her blood awakens." Then the being gestured to the body he currently occupied. "But I'll only really surface and take control when I need to step in. Katrina will be in control of her own body most of the time from here on out."
So that was Yellow-Pants' real name. How ironic, that she would be host to a potentially god-like being that could destroy who-knew-what when 25 years ago New Orleans had nearly been completely destroyed by a hurricane given that name. Twenty-five years exactly in only a few days, no less.
"...What are you?" Scara asked, curiosity overwhelming caution. If the creature wasn't hostile, what was he?
The being chuckled. "'Who?' Is more the question you should really ask. But that will have to be revealed later; her conscience is waking up." Then he gave her a serious look, as if the silent threat of blasting her with a god bolt was spoken aloud. "I would advise getting your boss to explain about the Daimons and such, she's stubborn enough to demand to talk to only him about it anyway." With that warning said, the molten gold faded from the irises, leaving behind confused electric blue. Katrina gave a soft groan as she rubbed her temples, as if she had a headache.
"What the fuck...?" She muttered under her breath, trying to remember the last thing that happened.
She had been pulled into an alley by some college kid with second rate vampire teeth. Bitten and then... Now she was here. She wasn't to sure where here even was. As if to answer her question, the information suddenly came to her mind, at which she seemed pretty quick to accept.
"...I wanna kill it," Scara said.
"Scara!" Taylor scolded.
"What?" she asked innocently. "It's a creature of unknown origin, and we have no proof that it's not actually harming a human." With an extremely effeminate groan, Taylor dropped his head into his hands.
"I swear, if you die on me..." he grumbled.
"No promises," Scara scoffed. "Get Shaggy here home before he starts running in circles screaming his head off. I'll take care of Katrina." Taylor gave her an odd look at her obvious Scooby-Doo reference, but said nothing, nodding and guiding Jason toward the front door as he began stammering incoherently.
The moment they were gone, Scara breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.
"Alright, hit me," she said, though she really didn't want to say anything at all to the girl on her couch. "I know you've got questions, so spit 'em out."
Katrina rubbed her temples. "...did you actually kill those things? Whatever they were?"
"Yes." Duh. That was sort of a given, seeing as she was still alive. "Next?"
"I meant on a daily basis," the girl said blandly. She brushed her now long hair back out of her face to look up at her. "Name?"
"Scara," she answered, flicking her own hair out of the way. "For obvious reasons. And you're Katrina?"
The blue eyed girl gave her a how the fuck did you know? look. "Yeah... Katrina Susano-o Tachibana."
"Japanese," Scara noted, eying her. "Let me guess; father recently moved to the States?" The subtle twitch of surprise goaded her on, not that her ego needed stroking; she continued, using the tiniest visual clues that most people would miss. "Mother's been here a while; I'd say German or English, but that doesn't quite fit, not with black hair, even with Japanese blood. Isreali? Arabian? Mm, no... European, definitely. Not Italian, or Spanish or French; further north. English still isn't an option. Irish? No..." A small smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. "Scottish."
Katrina rolled her eyes then out of curiosity she wondered that if this woman could guess her ancestry, maybe she could guess hers. Like before, the information was given immediately. She gave a small smile. "My turn. Egyptian? Not like how most are now, you have more of the... 'older generation' type of look, so... been around for quite a long time in spite of your young look."
A thin furrow appeared in Scara's brow, smirk vanishing completely. No one ever knew what she was. The closest anyone had ever guessed was Arabian. She certainly had the look; dark hair, tanned skin, black eyes... Even her features had that 'desert nomad' look that caused many people to think her Israeli. No one had ever guessed Egyptian, and certainly no one had ever guessed she was old.
"...Who told you?" she asked, an icy tone in her voice as she stared narrowly at her guest. "To know something like that, someone told you."
Katrina faked a thoughtful look as she glanced around her, as if looking for someone. Then she looked back to Scara and raised a brow defiantly as if to actually say: there's no one here to tell me.
Scara's annoyance turned to interest. The girl obviously didn't know about whatever creature inhabited her body.
Well, she wasn't going to be the one to tell her. Pushing off the counter, she picked up the bag of Jenny's clothes Taylor had brought and tossed them at Katrina.
"Change," she said. "Bathroom's through there if you want to take a shower. Don't touch anything; I'll be back by dawn." She flicked the collar of her coat up and headed for the door. Maybe she could get another couple of hours in before the sun forced her and the Daimons inside. And first thing in the morning, she'd call Acheron about the creature in Katrina; hopefully he'd have an answer.
Katrina sighed after she left and stood with the bag in her arms before making for the bathroom. She glanced into the mirror and groaned when she saw the long hair that now hung down her back. Okay, so she's either been out for three years or this somehow happened instantaneously. She groaned and looked around the apartment, then got an idea when she spotted a pair of scissors and some rubber bands.

The night passed quickly, with only one more Daimon attack that she stopped almost before it began. When her alarm went off twenty minutes before dawn, she was glad to rush home and disappear into her bedroom, where the blackout shades would protect her from the sun. But the minute she stepped through the front door, she remembered Katrina, and groaned inwardly. She definitely needed sleep before she dealt with that...
First, she needed to tell Acheron. So she pulled out her phone and dialed his number.
It was answered on the first ring as Scara walked through her living room, where she spotted Katrina laying down. The clothes fit her almost perfectly. A light blue sun dress that had thin straps and came down to her knees, a thin white belt around her waist, and a pair of white-and-blue strap sandals on her feet. Next to it was a plastic grocery bag that held her old clothes and... Scara had to step closer to make sure, but what looked like four ponytails of hair. She understood when she looked back to Katrina's now mid-neck length hair. She was almost pixie-like with short hair.
"What do you need, Sebak?" Acheron's deep voice answered. For a moment, Scara forgot her own last name, her black gaze fixed on the tiny, beautiful young woman lying on her floor like it was the most comfortable place in the world. "Scara?"
"Ah... Sorry; distracted..."
"So I gathered," her boss scoffed. "What do you need? Did Taylor find you yet? If you're avoiding him like you did Patrick..."
"What? No," she cut in, shaking her head and going into her room, forcing herself to ignore the shapely form on her living room floor. "I'm alright with Taylor; he's a good kid. I'm calling about something else."
"What is it?" By the tone of his voice, she knew he already had an idea of why she was calling.
"A creature, a being," she explained. "Something incredibly powerful and able to inhabit human bodies. It's inside a woman I saved from Daimons last night."
"...What time?"
Ooh... She didn't like that tone; it worried her.
"...About sundown?" she offered slowly. "I was out early because of the storm." An unintelligible muttering came from Acheron's end. "Ash? What the hell is it?"
"Nothing you need to worry about right now," he said evasively. "Keep her there today; I'll see if I can't get over there tonight."
"Wait, Ash...!" Too late; the line clicked. "Damn it, Ash!" She threw her phone against the wall, the screen shattering and the phone itself breaking into a couple of different pieces that dropped silently to the carpet as she growled curses in old Egyptian. Then she jerked off her coat with a sigh and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, not caring that she was dripping water everywhere.

Katrina's dream was interesting to say the least. She was on a reclined chair on a very large balcony. The scene around her was nothing like she'd ever seen; many different mansions decorated the side of a large hill, all decorated differently and made from a variety of materials. Needless to say, it was a gorgeous sight to behold.
Her attention snapped to her right to another chair that sat beside her when she heard a deep, masculine chuckle. The man who sat beside her was tall and lean with a generous amount of muscle; blue robes and bits of armor covered his form but it still showed off his gorgeous body. His black boots and gloves appeared to be made of some kind of leather. His skin was a little more tan than hers and long black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that fell to his lower back, thick bangs covering his right eye but she could still see the small smirk of his face. His visible eye was a liquid gold, slightly haunting and a little unnerving yet holding a bare hint of amusement.
Katrina swallowed nervously at the powerful, slightly chaotic aura around the man. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled. "I'm sure you can already guess, you were named after me." Her eyes widened in shock after she thought about it for a moment. "And before you ask, you are here so that I might explain a few things. Now I need you to pay close attention, because someone like me will be questioning you later."
Katrina nodded and put her hands in her lap, knowing better than to make this man angry.

Once her anger had dimmed to a simmer, Scara stood and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the shower, where she turned on the hot tap without the cold and stepped in, reveling in the scalding feel that reminded her of Ra's light beating down on her in Egypt. She longed for the days of her youth, when she was content to live as her life had been planned. She'd never really wanted that life, but it had been her duty, so she accepted it. But if this was the only alternative, she would gladly take back those days of ignorance and boredom.
When she finished showering, she dried off and pulled on a robe. She would've gone naked, but there was a stranger in her apartment, so that was out. While she toweled off her hair, she went into the living room to check on Katrina. The girl was sleeping soundly; Scara would be surprised if anything could wake her right now. She carefully scooped up the girl and carried her into the bedroom, laying her gently on the side of the bed that wasn't still damp from when she'd dripped rainwater all over it. Slipping off the girl's belt and shoes, she began automatically tucking her in, and then stopped as a pang of agony speared her at the memory of her long dead son; over two thousand years and she still had that maternal instinct.
She doffed the robe and pulled on a thin nightgown instead, crawling into the other side of the bed, determined to keep her distance. No good could come of getting involved with Katrina, regardless of whether the girl accepted one-night stands or not; whatever that creature was, Scara had a feeling it would be an important part of her life for the next few days at the very least, if not weeks or months. Better to avoid emotional involvement until the end, if at all. She kept her back to the girl as she drifted off.
Katrina didn't stir the whole night. Her mind, on the other hand, was still talking to the man about how she had come back to life and how he was able to be inside her and 'occasionally taking the reins' as he had put it.
It was still a little strange for her to have such a powerful being inside her mind, but at least she was able to understand the concept of how he was able to fully possess her body under special circumstances. When she woke up late the next day, in the early evening, she let out a sigh before rubbing her temple with one hand. Her life was never going to be normal ever again. She chuckled quietly, then again, I've always had a slight obsession for the supernatural.
It took her a moment to realize she was in a bed, and snuggled up to someone. The moment she shifted to see who it was, the woman jerked upright, snatched a knife from under her pillow, and pinned her to the bed, blade at her throat.
Scara sighed in annoyance when she saw who it was that had moved and woken her.
"Damn it, woman," she growled, lifting the knife from Katrina's throat. "Never do that again; I always wake up fighting."
Katrina gave her a glare but didn't say anything.
"Hmph." Scara sat back, suddenly aware that she wore nothing save a lacey bra and matching panties under a translucent nightgown that might as well have been invisible. Almost her entire body was plainly visible, scars and masculine muscles included. Very few people had ever seen her this scantily clad, and all but one had sneered at her, lips curling in disgust at such a manly body despite her curves. Only Tiff had ever fully accepted her as she was, in spite of all her scars, physical and emotional.
Blushing lightly, she turned away with a casualness she didn't feel and pulled on her robe, tying it firmly closed in front of her.
"My boss is coming later tonight," she said, going for her bag to get on some real clothes. "He needs to talk to you, so you're going to have to stay here until he arrives. If..." At that moment, her doorbell rang, and the visitor immediately began pounding on the door, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. Growling, she grabbed her knife and went to the foyer, throwing up her hands in exasperation when she saw who it was through the window in the door.
"Thank gods you're alright!" Taylor blurted the moment she let him in, carefully avoiding the light. Thankfully, her entryway pointed north, so for the most part, no sunlight reached her door. The brightness still stung her eyes and made her skin itch.
"I won't be for much longer; stop standing in the doorway." He quickly ushered her away from the entrance, closing the door after him, and practically pushed her into the welcome darkness of her room.
"I couldn't get you on your cell," he said worriedly as he went. "I was terrified a Daimon got you, or you hadn't gotten home before sunrise... Ash said you broke your cell...?" Scara facepalmed. Oh, the stupidity of some people. "What?" She pointed to Katrina. "Oh..."
Katrina stared at them with the most confused look on her face. Daimon was a new term; wasn't mentioned at all during the time she had that sleep/mental conversation.
"What exactly is it that you people do?" When they didn't say anything for a moment, as if collecting their thoughts, she crossed her arms over her chest. "And don't lie to me. I really don't tolerate bullshit."
"...We're vampire hunters," Scara said blandly, also crossing her arms. Taylor snickered, swinging his knapsack from his shoulder and reaching into it to pull out a brand-new iPhone 7S, which looked something like a cross between the iPhone 6S and a miniature iPad.
"Before I forget," he said, holding it out to her, "your new phone."
"That's not a phone, that's a computer," she scoffed, eying it with raised brow. "I'd crush that faster than I did that one." She gestured to the remnants of her previous phone, still scattered on the floor. Taylor rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile.
"Figured you'd say that," he said, tossing the 7S on the bed and pulling out an older 5. "This better?"
"Much."
"Hey!" Katrina cut in as Scara took the iPhone and quickly inspected it. "I'm serious; what the hell are you people?"
"You know those things that go bump in the night?" Scara asked, not even looking at her as she turned on the phone and began scrolling through the apps. "We're the people that hunt and kill them."
"You are both fucking high." was the response they got about five seconds later.
"Mm, sometimes," Taylor grinned, not at all offended. Scara scoffed.
"Not on my watch, you're not," she warned. "If I ever see you high..."
"Relax, Se," he laughed, "I'm kidding. I'd sooner sleep with a woman than get high, and in case you didn't notice, I'm about as gay as they come."
"Oh I noticed," she snorted. "You'd have to be blind not to see it."
Holy crap; was she actually bantering with him? What a surprise. She'd expected to be completely closed off for a long time after Tiff's death.
But then, something about Taylor reminded her of her old friend; just like Tiff, he didn't care what other people thought of him, and he joked about things that other people would consider shortcomings. Both of them seemed to be able to drag out the best in her no matter how much she wanted to wallow and hide.
She had to hand it to Ash; the man knew what he was doing when he assigned Taylor as her Squire.
"Tsk!" Taylor pressed a hand to his chest with a feminine grimace. "I'm getting predictable!"
Katrina rolled her eyes at them. This really wasn't a time to be cracking jokes, but who was she to interrupt?
"So, ah, what are we supposed to do about Miss Mystery over here?" Taylor asked, eying Katrina up and down as though giving her an entire wardrobe in his mind.
"Nothing," Scara said, shrugging as she went for her bag again, this time managing to retrieve a set of clothes without being interrupted. "Ash said he'll see about getting here tonight to talk to her himself."
"Ooh, sounds fun," he said, scrunching up his nose in a way that said belied his words. Then he caught sight of the outfit Scara planned on wearing. "Girl, just what do you think you're doing?"
"Getting dressed, moron," she scoffed. "In case you didn't notice, I'm not exactly dressed for company." She mimicked his earlier tone, and he obviously didn't miss the rebuttal, but he did ignore it.
"Uh-uh!" he said, shaking his head. "Not in those clothes, you're not. Tell me you've got something better than leather... Don't get me wrong; leather's sexy as hell, but you gotta wear it right!"
"Yeah, sure," she said snidely, rolling her eyes.
For whatever reason, Acheron chose that moment to flash into to her apartment, making Katrina's eyes widen; he'd just appeared from fucking nowhere, she could could tell he was the one 'Storm' had talked to her about.
Scara, on the other hand, turned bright red; having her boss see her in a robe was more than embarrassing.
"What the hell?" she shrieked, darting for the bathroom. "I don't care who you are; I'll kill you the next time you do that!" Acheron sighed.
"...Do I want to know?" he asked, frowning. Taylor sighed, shaking his head.
"Probably not," he said. "Katrina's over there." He gestured to her, and then went over to the bathroom door, muttering. "Thank goodness I thought to order some good clothes in her size..."
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, TAYLOR?" Scara screeched, jerking her robe up as he stepped into the bathroom.
"Relax, sweetheart, I'm not interested in women," he chuckled, setting his bag on the counter.
"That doesn't mean you can just walk in here without permission!" she snapped, onyx gaze dropping to her switchblade by the sink. Taylor casually picked it up and flipped it in his hand.
"Chill out, darling," he smiled, amused by the red-face, disgruntled sight she no doubt made. "You can slice my throat and rip me to shreds if you want, but first we're going to get you dressed to kill, pun completely intended."