NB: I wrote this because I've been unsatisfied with how saccharine Alexandra and Sebastian have become in this set of drabbles. It's my fault, I know, since I'm the writer who wanted to try her hand at fluff knowing full well that my darker sensibilities always win out. Consider this sordid little tale my attempt at exorcising my own demons so that I might write you happier chapters in future.

This will be the last update in a while. I've completely neglected another story and I'm sure the Shiki contingent will have my head if I don't update soon.

Content warning: Sadistic main characters. Violence. Lack of fluff. Don't read this if you want romance. You won't find it. Also there's blasphemy depending on who you identify with. This chapter should likely carry an 'M' rating, but I can't rate chapters individually and I didn't want to bump the rating for the whole series. Anyway, you've been warned.

Hey, JPVortex, are you there? If you are, know that this one's for you because you like Alexandra better when she's a badass.

Petersburg had a number of Orthodox churches, but Alexandra's destination was the one that she was intimately familiar with, so she found it easily, even in the dead of night. It was in the old town, not far from John's apartment, but far enough from the city's center to allow for a certain degree of privacy. They needed privacy tonight. Sebastian walked beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist like a vice, his lips brushing along her ear. The plastic smile that he wore matched perfectly her own. Had anyone been paying attention to the pair, they would have looked like two lovers keeping each other warm on a snowy night. It was very late, yes, but even so, they couldn't be too careful.

"Do you feel any other supernatural presence but ours?" she asked, leaning into him and sliding her own arm underneath his coat. Might as well play the part, she thought, watching her breath fog in the wintry air.

Sebastian smirked at the contact but retained his seriousness otherwise. "No." He released some of his own demonic energy when he felt a shiver run through her arm. Humans were so fragile. It wouldn't do to have his master succumb to frostbite – not when he was just beginning to have fun.

"Thanks," she said, relishing the warmth.

He nodded, not so much in acknowledgement of her appreciation but rather at the edifice about thirty meters in front of them. The church was an old one. It had once been a stunning baroque structure, an achievement in ecclesiastical architecture. It was now crumbling and gray, but she remembered loving it despite its dilapidation, or perhaps because of it. Alexandra had been attending services there ever since she'd returned to Russia years ago. Of course, she'd not set foot in the building after her family's murder, but she figured that selling one's soul was an act of hostility against the religious establishment, so she considered her absence a show of respect. But this hypocrite no longer deserves my respect, she thought savagely. Since God can't be bothered to set things right, I'll do it myself. The latest bit of information they'd gathered provided evidence of a betrayal that she did not anticipate, committed by a man she'd considered a mentor of sorts.

Sebastian sensed the weight of her thoughts. To him they felt like the dark hush which descended upon a room after all the light had been extinguished. A rare genuine smile graced his lips. You are a soul truly worthy of my talents, master.

They didn't bother knocking. Being supernaturally gifted as they were, locks were of little consequence. The nave was perfectly still, and its shadows took on sinister shapes for lack of illumination. A nighttime church is really disturbing, she thought as she looked upon the paneled gates which hid the altar. Moonlight fell in colorful shafts along the chamber as it filtered in through the stained-glass windows. This made the stone floors seem even more decrepit and weather-worn. She could almost feel the ghosts of the souls that had sought peace here, attending service unfailingly, kneeling before the bishop in supplication, partaking of the Holy Communion. Some part of the church's many past worshipers still lingered, she knew. Memories always resided in such places. Inexplicably, this only made her feel lonely. Without parishioners in attendance, it feels like God never sets foot here. Alexandra briefly wondered if her own fall from grace was the reason she felt so out of sorts in a building that she'd once adored. She buried this feeling of unease under her own anger, knowing that it was fury and not regret that would lend her the resolve needed to see to the matter at hand.

She knew where to find the man she sought, so they made their way past the bishop's throne and up the narrow staircase which led to the apartments above. They'd broken their mock embrace upon entering, and Sebastian followed closely after his master as the wooden steps creaked under her footfall. She did not bother to muffle the sounds, he noticed.

Alexandra came upon the landing which opened to the priest's apartments. Actually, these apartments were comprised of one long room with a stone floor and curved walls that met in an arch. It had a medieval feel about it, and years ago, Alexandra had rather liked spending time here. Not anymore. She found the bishop kneeling before his many icons. He still wore the majority of his holy vestments. She rolled her eyes, surprisingly irritated at the fact that a man so thoroughly corrupt would dare to join his hands in prayer. How ridiculous he seemed to her then—his corpulent body and hoary head wrapped in gilded robes which were no doubt purchased for an exorbitant sum. Father Vasily had been a trusted adviser in the past, one of the few officials of the church that accepted the exorcist as a peer. Many of the others had been fearful of Alexandra's power and suspicious of her foreign upbringing. She was not one of them, after all. But Father Vasily had seemed a kindly man, often spending hours at the manor arguing with her over the minutiae of Greek incantations or discussing the trappings of various magical rites. She'd been foolish to trust him so blindly, particularly when the rest of his ilk were hesitant to make themselves as accommodating. Her lip curled in disgust as she thought of how ignorant she'd been. If I had seen through him back then, Isaac and Nikki might still be alive. The kneeling man pretended to be unaware of their presence.

"Tell me Father, what precisely do you pray for? Is it absolution? From what sins, I wonder." There was a soft mocking in her tone that was like music to her demon's ears.

"Your Grace, I did not hear you enter. It has been too long." He'd stood up and turned to face them, seemingly pleased at seeing her after nearly two years, but his feigned pleasure gave way to alarm when he looked from Alexandra to Sebastian. The demon had made no move to hide his true nature. His eyes glinted maliciously and a creeping shadow made its way along the floor from his feet to the bishop as if in attempt to grasp the other man. The candlelight flickered ominously. Father Vasily instinctively grabbed the gilded cross that hung around his neck.

Alexandra laughed, high and shrill. "Oh that won't save you. Sebastian's not a vampire." She made her way to the scrubbed wooden table that occupied the center of the room and dropped herself into a chair without being invited, casually crossing her legs upon the surface. "Please, do sit down."

"You...you may have heard some vicious rumors about my collusion with the Khlysty. I would hope that someone of your intelligence would not believe such lies." He said haltingly, but he did not join Alexandra.

"How dare you address me as a colleague? You are no longer worthy of such familiarity, you spineless coward." The words issued forth in a harsh whisper, and Sebastian knew that she'd wanted to scream them. But she kept her composure nonetheless. "I believe I asked you to sit, Father."

The bishop stood frozen, so Sebastian directed his shadow to snatch him up and deposit him into the chair opposite Alexandra. The demon materialized behind Father Vasily, one hand settled gently on his shoulder. The feelings of fear and desperation that the older man was giving off were positively ambrosial. Indeed, Sebastian could have howled in delight. Alexandra took a carafe from the table and poured a large measure of wine into a bronze goblet. It was an awfully ostentatious drinking glass, Sebastian thought, but certainly not surprising given the fact that they were in the presence of a man who was donning his vestments at 2AM. She brought the goblet to her lips and sipped the wine.

"Communion wine, no? I remember the taste. It's always been awful." She screwed her face up as if to demonstrate her assessment of the wine's flavor.

"Your Grace, I know what you must think—" he began.

"No, no. That will never do. Call me Alexandra," she chided. "For as you see, I have so clearly fallen from grace." She gestured to Sebastian, who smiled his devil's smile as the man turned up to gaze upon him.

The exorcist cleared her throat, claiming again the attention of their captive. "Are you familiar with the story of Icarus, Father?" The priest said nothing. "No? Icarus was the son of a craftsman. One day, his father fashioned him wings from wax and feathers." She stopped to look upon her prey, her gaze cold and unfeeling. "Stop me if this sounds familiar, okay?" Alexandra waited for a response, and when she received none she merely shrugged and continued. "Icarus was warned not to fly too close to the sun because his new wings would melt. Well he didn't heed this warning, believing himself to be beyond the consequences of his actions. And when his wings melted, he tumbled out of the sky and into the ocean." Another dramatic pause. "You see, Father, you've been flying entirely too close to the sun. And I have come to clip your wings." Her eyes seemed to glow with the demonic fire that so often alighted Sebastian's.

He attempted to stand up, but a sharp squeeze of his captor's long fingers served as sufficient warning for the present. Alexandra drawled on with an imperiousness in her tone that Sebastian found incredibly alluring. "I have questions. You have answers. The quicker you answer, the cleaner your death. Understood?"

Father Vasily tried to protest, stammering over his excuses, clutching at his cross once again, but he was quickly brought around with a quick slap from Sebastian's gloved hand. He barked at the resultant pain and then nodded in submission, a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"Who are the Khlysty?"

"They are those who claim to follow the sorcerer Rasputin," he said mechanically.

"Oh good, you've learned how to play this game." Alexandra was thoroughly pleased with how pliant her interlocutor had become. Sebastian was good. "They have magical power, yes?"

"Yes."

She took another sip of wine. "Where do they get it?"

"I-I don't know." Father Vasily's eyes had gone wide. Sweat began beading along his forehead although the room was not at all warm. She couldn't tell if he was lying or just petrified.

"How unfortunate. You were doing so well." She drank again, eyes trained unflinchingly on her captive the whole time. "Tell me what you do know."

"I've told you. Some of them are magicians, like you. I know nothing apart from that."

Alexandra placed her glass down delicately. She uncrossed her legs and dropped them to the floor, and then she stood up and leaned threateningly across the table. The bishop shrank back only to find his shoulders coming into contact with the demon behind him. "They are nothing like me," she snarled.

"I only meant—"

"Enough. Tell me what I want to know," she said, the calmness returning to her voice as she resumed her seat. "Or I will have Sebastian extract the information in the most excruciating manner possible. I assure you, he will have no problem fulfilling the task." Sebastian slightly tightened his grip on the older man's shoulder, being careful to press into his pressure point. Father Vasily gasped in pain.

"There is a rumor, but it is a rumor only." He said uncertainly. Alexandra nodded for him to go on. "Some say that the Khlysty have gained their power through Rasputin's biological descendants."

"Really?" Alexandra thought that rather surprising. She was unaware that the dark magician had any descendants. But their magic was far too strong to be too removed from the sorcerer himself; that was true enough. No matter, she thought, I will find every last trace of his evil power and wipe it from the face of this earth forever. "Interesting." She remained silent for several moments, no doubt determining what her next course of action would be. "You've been very helpful. Thank you."

Her interrogation was completed. It was short, true, but she'd not come simply for answers. At any rate, Father Vasily likely knew nothing more of consequence. She was certain that he'd been a rather low-level member of the group she hunted. In all likelihood, he'd served his purpose to Rasputin's followers when he disclosed the location of her home. They'd come for her on his information. The realization broke Alexandra's heart so thoroughly that she knew she'd have to quench that pain with the satisfaction of revenge. She regarded the priest once more. "Why did you betray us?"

Sebastian could hear Father Vasily's heart race uncontrollably and smell his sweat. His abject terror was so thick that the demon could taste it on the air. "They would have found you anyway. Have you any idea the tortures they would have subjected me to had I not cooperated?"

"Perhaps they would have found us, but had you been a true friend, you would have warned me. I could have set up a magical defense. I could have escaped with my family."

"Alexandra, I loved Isaac and Nikki too." She did not need to give an order. Sebastian silenced the bishop without so much as a glance. Alexandra smiled up at him. He's very good.

Her tone softened considerably after that. "And I am all too aware of the tortures that they would have subjected you to. I watched my family undergo those tortures in your stead, Father."

The priest said nothing at all, realizing that his fate had been sealed when the Khlysty failed to kill the woman sitting before him. Alexandra pulled her goblet closer, sliding her finger around its rim and closing her eyes. "Mara" she intoned, in barely a whisper. She pushed the cup across the table to Father Vasily. "Drink."

He looked at her in horror.

"Oh come now, it's the Blood of Christ, right? Surely it will do you no harm." Sebastian had to restrain himself from laughing. His master's occasional sadism could put demons to shame.

"Have mercy, my child." The older man was begging now, knowing that she'd turned the wine into poison. "Have mercy, and God will have mercy upon you when your time comes."

"Let's leave the mercy to God, shall we." She stated simply. "Drink, or I'll leave you to Sebastian."

The demon stooped low to look into the bishop's eyes. He flashed a malevolent grin, his shadow now looming over the other man as another chill swept through the room. The priest recoiled as much as he could before the wooden chair dug painfully into his lower back. His tears continued to fall unchecked as he choked back sobs, but he reached for the goblet with a trembling hand, knowing that the alternative would be much worse. Before he could close his unsteady fingers around its stem, however, Sebastian had already picked it up.

"Allow me," he whispered, irises gleaming. He put the goblet to the other man's lips while Alexandra watched impassively. Father Vasily took a hesitant sip and Sebastian tipped the cup into his mouth to speed along the process. They needed to be efficient. "Good boy," he said when the contents had been drained.

Alexandra stood then, turning her back to the dying man. "Consider us even, Father. You helped them steal my life from me. I have just stolen yours in recompense." She made her way out the door and down the steps. Sebastian followed wordlessly. As they entered the nave once again, Alexandra halted briefly to look again at the altar which was barred from their sight. There was a flash of incredible sorrow on her face, but it was gone in an instant, and then she walked out into the night as though nothing of consequence had taken place in the last hour. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. How much more? How much more blood must I spill to finish this? A heavy sigh escaped her lips before she turned to Sebastian, who'd been watching her in interest for the last several moments. He was looking for a weakness, she knew. She opted not to give him one. "Burn it down. The whole damned thing. And take us home."

He knew that her steely demeanor was completely at odds with the maelstrom of emotions that stirred within, and this contradictory nature made her deliciously attractive to him in a myriad of ways. She was no Icarus, after all. Alexandra would never tumble because Sebastian's wings had been forged in fire.

"Is that an order, master?"

"Yes."

'I' is for 'Icarus'.

AN: Oh, so you thought Sebastian and Sariel were the same person? I'm afraid not. He's no angel anymore. And Alexandra had never been one.

Apologies to those of you with finer sensibilities, but as I said I really needed to get this out of my system.