Not mine, at all, or ever.

The breaks mean a change of scene.

Chapter 9

It had gone far better then she could have hoped.

"Well, this is unusual."

"Ahhh, you're in the wrong apartment...sir?"

"Tony."

"Heh, yeah Boss?"

"Cut the crap."

Ouch.

"Were you going to say goodbye? Were you going to say anything?"

"After what happened on the street I thought a quick escape would be best. Is McGee alright?"

"McGee's fine. Not as shook up as you would think."

She snorted. "Figures not even a spectacle like that could phase the elf-lord."

"Jones, however, is now trying to go with an insanity plea."

She winced, hoping the case wasn't screwed. "Yeah, let's see how far that gets him in regards to gun smuggling."

"DiNozzo."

"Sorry Boss."

"So this is what? You were just going to crawl away, no word, and leave me to find out when you never showed up, ever again?"

"No, I would have come back." If she lived.

"Then what the hell was that you told McGee, 'tell them I'm sorry?' Sounds final to me."

It seemed that no matter the shape, Gibbs would still be able to intimate her, and she shrunk as he loomed over her.

"Ahh, just didn't want to leave any loose ends." She paused, dropping the facade. "I will come back, if I'm still alive. I swear it."

Gibbs stepped back slightly.

"It's that dangerous?"

She hesitated. "I want to lie, but, yeah, it's that dangerous. And when I go my priorities are not going to be self-interest first. I have...duties. I can't not go."

"This is that important." Not a question, not from Gibbs.

"Family is." She met his eyes, hiding nothing. Gibbs raised a brow.

"I thought you didn't speak with your father?"

She moved away, tugging at tangled blonde locks. "My father's an ass. My sisters, however, mean everything. No matter what happens here Gibbs, I'm going." She continued on her path to the bedroom, looking back over her shoulder only to say, "I'd rather have you as a ally then an enemy."

She could have cried with joy when Gibbs slapped the back of her head.

She knew that he had her loyalty for a reason.

"One week DiNozzo, then I expect you either back at your desk, as usual, or a phone call explaining why I shouldn't hunt you down and drag you back in cuffs."

She laughed, a freeing noise in the apartment. "I think Abbs'll beat you to it."

She turned back and raised her hand, and they shook on it.

"Just so you know, there's no one else I would trust more with this Gibbs. When I get back, you get everything. No lies."

Gibbs acknowledged her guarantee that she's return with a nod.

"You need us, call. Director be damned; we've got your six."

"I'll hold you to that."

Now, exiting the plane, she wondered if that wasn't over optimistic. After all, the Hunt had spent the last years seething in the darkness while they had playing in the world of light; they weren't exactly at their best. Too many years being human had blunted the edge, Tony thought sourly, her fight with the wraith could attest to that.

At full power it wouldn't have gotten close enough for McGee to notice.

Well, at least she could drop the glamour. If, after they fixed whatever had happened, she could go back to the life she had built as Tony DiNozzo, she wanted to know that he wouldn't be brought up on any charges. Epics battles on street corners tended to draw a crowd. So, for the duration, no DiNozzo, no male, no chance of it coming back to haunt her afterwards; she just hoped the others were being as smart as she was.

But now she'd have to buy a whole new wardrobe.

Grabbing her bag from luggage she made her way towards the exit doors, intent on reaching Danny's apartment quickly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a group making its way towards them as well, and heading pretty fast, so she slowed and looked over.

And froze.

That just had to be Horatio Caine, Tony remembered from Speed's descriptions of the red-haired man, and the one barreling towards her fit him to a tee; all suppressed power and purpose, he moved with determination and led his team without hesitation. He totally reminded Tony of a certain silver-haired marine. The people following behind Tony could pick out by description: mother instinct and warmth must be Alexx, luminous and composed is Calleigh, tanned skin and wild passion was so Eric, but Tony couldn't place the last one. But he made her skin burn with untapped potential and then she knew, pulling her shield around her all the more tightly.

Druid.

Slowing her pace to an almost stop, she let pass by, appearing to be concerned with checking her bag, watching them through lowered bangs. Okay, this really made things difficult; why were they here, did they follow Speed, what the hell was going on? And the druid, why didn't her kin ever mention him? She looked up at them again, and by chance, her eyes meet Caine's.

Sharp blue clashed with sharp green, as the two alphas scented each other. She knew who Caine was, but he didn't know her, and yet she knew that he was struck by something in her; probably the same thing he had felt in Speed, he recognized in Tony, the same aura or allure. But Tony wasn't like her kin, and Caine knew it, instinctively reacting to a threat by seeking it out. Which meant the man-boy was on his team.

Oh, wasn't that great.

When she was sure that Caine had turned his attention away from her, she followed them out, hoping to avoid them altogether but no luck.

"Where to first, H?" She over heard Eric ask, as they waited to flag down a cab. "Do we even now where to start?"

"Eric's right," Calleigh chimed in. "Does Detective Taylor want us to head to the station first, or go to the apartment to check out the bike?"

Caine shook his head. "No, he said that they'd tow the bike from Messer's apartment and leave it at the station garage for us." Now THAT caught Tony's attention.

"Is there any news on Detective Messer's whereabouts yet, or is he still missing?"

The hell?!

Tony was seconds from damning subterfuge to hell and demanding to know what the hell was going on when a cab bus pulled up, and the group entered, but not before the man-boy bent over to grab his bag and he looked up, seeing her for the first time.

No matter how many generations passed, their kinds always knew each other. He paled surprising fast as they looked at each other and she felt a tendril of his aura reach out, teaching her own, and recoiling at the age and power of it. He shuddered violently.

Serves him right for coping a feel without asking, Tony thought with a smirk, which almost sent the guy into a panic. She couldn't help but grin; this guy was more wound up then McGee.

"Ryan? You alright?"

Calleigh had reached out to touch the man-boy's arm, drawing his attention away from Tony and back to his where his team was waiting for him. Tony watched him straighten and use his arm to wipe the sweat of his brow, as he tried to center himself.

"Yeah," He said, pointedly ignoring Tony and getting into the cab. "Jet-lag just caught up to me."

Caine was the last to enter but before he did, he turned to Tony, locking eyes once more and Tony couldn't resist. After all, she had no idea of what these people really were, and for her, trust and respect has to be earned before it is given. And her standards were higher then her kin's. So, hailing her own cab, she grinned at him, giving him the DiNozzo special.

"Tread carefully Lieutenant; here there be monsters."

Nick shivered as she wrapped her jacket closer, still acclimatized to Vegas weather. She tugged her auburn hair back into a tighter bun, and away from her face, grumpily aware that travel always made it frizzy.

There was one more layover and then she would be in New York, hopefully finding a way to contact the others; she still couldn't get in touch with any of them. Before she left, Heather had given her a list of possible havens in the city where Nick would find sanctuary, her kin, and hopefully both. Nick sighed, leaning back against the seat.

Heather had been troubled, and hadn't wanted Nick to go, but understood the reasons. Family was family, after all. And kin was even closer.

But, she had warned, something was off and she had wanted to investigate before Nick left.

Nick hadn't waited, telling Heather to just call if she discovered something.

Now, though, Nick wondered if Heather might have been right. Something was off.

In a few hours Nick would be arriving in New York, a city some thought was full of hope and dreams; to Nick, it loomed like a guillotine.

And it beaconed to her.

He had loved the look of the old book, sitting there on the shelf, hidden by a slight layer of dust. He couldn't believe that no one had snatched it up, as he lifted it, carefully wiping the grit away. The cover was leather, the pages a rough type of parchment, and in fantastic condition; it had to be at least several centuries old, at least.

He bought for a steal, at fifteen dollars.

At home he carefully pulled the pages apart, looking with wonder at the hand-drawn prints of the past, tales of god and mortals and worlds long forgotten. He couldn't read the language, some form of ancient Gaelic perhaps, or older, but he was able to follow the images.

An island formed and wars that followed, drawn by the power held within the sacred lands.

Images of monsters from the depths, misshapen beasts that hunted and killed, and the force that was raised to halt their progress.

His fingers traced with care over the face of the Queen, as she raised the star in her hand, and the monsters fled in her wake. He could imagine her great beauty.

He looked at the runes, the marked letters that were inscribed on the pages, and bent to grab a sheet of paper to transfer them.

"Ow!"

A paper cut, a small thing, but a drop had landed on the pages of the book. With no time to bandage he used the tissue to try to wipe up the spill, hoping he hadn't damaged the page. He gaped as the blood vanished, soaked through into the book.

Feverishly he grabbed a knife and cut himself, a small one, and dripped onto the page; it happened again, soaking in, and the images became more defined. He made cut after cut, and as time went on, he could read the book as the words became clear, and he understood.

The book held great promise and power, and he knew how to get it.

He grabbed the bloodstained knife, holding it to both wrists, and pushed down. When the cuts were made he leaned over and pressed them to the pages, feeling the power course through his body.

"Oh yes!"

He bled out, falling onto the table, heart slowing then stopping.

Silence.

The body twitched.

And then righted itself, picking up the book.

Tapping a nail against the page, the body read the words, calling forth its pets.

A window had been opened; now, it just needed to open a door.

And it knew what it needed to do so.

It just had to bring them here.