...The Cottage, Sanctuary...

It was close to dawn, maybe an hour or two off. Chase had always enjoyed sleeping, so he was confused when his eyes opened of their own accord to the moonlit room. There was nothing out place, no indicator as to why he had woken up. Closing his eyes, he tried to go to sleep and only had them open up again a breath later. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran his hands over his face. Getting to his feet, he walked down the stairs to the living room and stopped. Claire was pulling on her shoes, fully dressed and about to leave. Folded next to her on the couch was a blood red cloak. He felt his insides twist, he knew that she was leaving. She turned and glanced up at him over her shoulder before turning back to her shoes.

"W--"

"I know why I resurrected myself," she said standing up but making no move to go for the cloak, "Vivian tried to spy on everyone involved, I threw her back she's twisted the Power, made it into something un-nautral, something that none of you will be able to fight," he opened his mouth, "oh you may get a few lucky shots off, hurt some of her people but it won't be enough."

"Why aren't the Envoys doing something?" Chase demanded.

"I don't know and I don't have time to find out. Clan Theron and the Alliance Hunters are picky about which jobs they take, they think they're better than everyone else. They won't come to this, not until Vivian and Merrick try to take over the world and by then there's a good chance it will be too late," she sighed, "so I'm going to get help."

"Help? From a bunch of Witch Hunters?"

"I am a Witch Hunter," she snapped.

"You're a Guardian, there's a difference," he shot right back.

"Then let me do my job!" she cried before realized they were in a house full of sleeping people, "whatever I am, whatever I was--whatever I will be, I will not sit by and let these bastards take over the world. Now they have an unfair advantage, quite a few actually. What you want to do is brave but its suicide," she grabbed the cloak, "I'm going to level the playing field."

"You can't go," he said, "if you go for wherever it is, someone's going to try and kill you--what about your crew of Hunters? Something tells me they're not aching to have you back."

"Actually they are," she said, "see my name's on that Alliance, no matter how many siblings I have by now--and knowing my father I have quite a few--my name is the only one that matters because without me that Alliance goes to hell. So I'm going to get some help from the Witch Hunters."

"What about us? An entire Covenant is going to be there--my Covenant. What happens when your Witch Hunters are done with Vivian? Who do you think they're going to go after next? Since you've forgotten, I'll remind you that the Covenant of Ispwitch is not the joke it once was. How do I know you're Hunters aren't going to start an all out war with us?"

"You have a point," she said nodding, "well you'll just have to come with me."

"Come with you?" he demanded, "are you kidding me? You're going to Witch Hunter city, something tells me that I'm not going to be welcome there," he finished crossing his arms, "me being a Warlock and all."

"I thought you were a Guardian," she said, "as a Guardian they technically can't touch you, so you'll be fine."

"I'm not going," he said. She rolled her eyes and from no-where produced a gun. Something told him that his healing would be useless as she backed him up against the wall.

"You're coming with me, the very simple question you have to answer is whether you come as my Guardian partner or as my Warlock bounty. It makes no difference to me."

"I'll go with Guardian partner," he said.

"Good choice," she said lowering the gun, "lets go," he raised his eyebrows, "oh you want to wait, for what exactly? We have to make it out of Sanctuary before a helicopter can come and get us. No we can't just transport ourselves to the Witch Hunter location--well we could but unless we've got a damn good story this will go to hell. Now we have to think up a plausible one before we get there so lets go."

"What about the others?" he asked.

"I've left a note. I didn't say that you were coming with me, I only told them where they would land."

"You're setting them up," Chase said, realization dawning on him, "you're using them as bait."

"To be frank I was going to use you too," she said. He raised his eyebrows at the statement, "you need to understand something or we're not going to get very far. When my memories come back, this is still going to be me. I wish I was able to focus on remembering but right now we need to save the world and if I have to sacrifice you or anyone else to make sure that happens then so be it," she sighed, "now partner or bounty?"

"I am no-one's bounty," he snarled.

"We'll see," she said, "come on."

She led them out and down the hill. They cut through the woods towards the break in whatever magic protected Sanctuary. Despite knowing this was the only thing to do, Chase couldn't help but feel that this was a bad idea. In his mind he considered all the people who wanted them dead and realized that maybe things hadn't changed so drastically. Killing herself for the solution to a problem was actually a very Claire-thing to do. She walked the same too, he knew it was an odd thing to notice but she did. Claire had always had a very distinct walk, something he had always noticed, even if it was just out of the corner of his eye. She also happened to be fast as hell which hadn't changed either.

"Why the red?" he asked finally.

"The Alliance Clans all have these," she said, "back from, well, back from whenever. They're quite the fashionable bunch," she said, "you should see what they make the Leader's wear," she sighed, "this is the least 'impressive' garment they could think of," she smirked, "as you can see, the Clan was run by men during a very crucial time."

"I can see that," he said looking back at the cottage.

"Your friend swill be fine," she said, "even if they leave Sanctuary, Vivian knows I'm here and she will not attack without me."

"How can you be sure?" he asked.

"She's already sent one assassin for me," she said looking away, the coldness around her falling like the cloak, "no matter how many she sends she's going to want to kill me herself," she looked at him, "which means your friends will be fine until we return."

He sighed and followed her through the trees. She didn't stop, gave no indication of any kind of suspicion. He wouldn't have known if it wasn't for the glint of silver that appeared in her hand. She pivoted on her heel and spun around in a blur of red, thrusting the sword into the stomach of the man standing behind him. Chase sucked in his breath, the man's eyes were completely black. His teeth were bared in a snarl as he wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword and pulled it out of him, bringing it around and thrusting at her. A second blade appeared in her hand and she blocked him. The swords met again in a clash of silver before both spun away and retaliated. She was the more graceful of the two, but the man had a stillness about him as if he were toying with her. Finally the blades came to rest at the hollow of each person's throat. The man smirked in triumph and Claire's foot snapped up, if not hurting then surprising him at the very least. He dropped the sword and she sliced her blade out, coming within a millimeter of his neck.

"You need to work on your self control," the man snapped getting to his feet.

"And you need to learn the meaning of the phrase 'do not sneak up on me'," she growled, "where the hell are your pills Max?"

"Long story," he sighed and raised his eyebrows, "so the rumors are true, I thought Mel was joking."

"Oh no," she said crossing her arms, "Mel wasn't joking."

"Pity," he said, "you know if you go to the Witch Hunters, Mel's going to have to sent someone to kill you," he sighed, "she thinks you know too much about everyone to be allowed to play one side," he turned his head away, "come on Claire, don't do this."

"Don't do what?" she demanded, "go back to the Clan? Stop Vivian? You'll have to be a hell of a lot more specifi--" the words trailed off as she looked at the arm across her chest. She turned to see Chase, but his eyes were on the man.

"I'm going with her," Chase said, "I'll make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

"You must be Chase," he said turning his black eyes to him, "I must say, the stories I've heard of you make you into quite the legend. Do you know that when they talk of the Redemption of Ipswitch, it's your name they mention first?" Chase mentally begged him not to say anymore, "if even half the stories are true then you are truly a great man. I'll tell Mel about this but what she does with the information is up to her."

WIth that he vanished and Claire turned to Chase.

"Aright let me explain something to you just so there's no confusion," she sighed, "they aren't going to care how fantastic a Guardian you are, the best that'll do is keep you from being killed in your sleep," she ran her hands over her face, "well not they, that's too strong a word. See they--Clan Theron--may have a less than perfect reputation but they do not attack unprovoked and it takes a lot to provoke them. They take care of their own," she bit her lip, "it's the Clan leader, my father, he's ruthless and arrogant which we can use but your presence their will not sit well with him."

"What about your presence? Something tells me that you won't sit well with him either."

"No," she said looking down, "it will not sit well with him but I've dealt with him before," she added, "you haven't. Now I need your word that no matter what you see you won't let it traumatize, scar or otherwise freak out on me. The first rule of dealing with anyone with an ego is to never, ever look impressed. Can you do that?"

"I'll manage," he said, "now why don't you tell me why you left?"

"I thought Mel would've told you," she said.

"Well considering what I hear about you and your Clan through other people seems to be either greatly exaggerated or complete bullshit, I'd rather hear it from you."

"Second rule," she said, "no matter what, be as impressive and fantastic as people say you are, it makes them much easier to deal with," she turned and began to walk again, "my Clan like the Ocean, don't ask me why, but they do. We're headed to one of the strongholds which is a city hidden inside a Cove," she stopped and turned around, "If, one day, we go to war and you attack that place I will personally make sure your death is excruciating," she turned back and kept walking, "anyway, Clan Theron love the ocean, which is really a glorified way of saying we love to drink, sing off key and get into the occasional brawl when we're not fighting Warlocks. The reason we're the most powerful Clan is because when it comes to fighting others we're very good at it--also at negotiating but those skills are limited to a select few."

"Well why were you kicked out?"

"I was in love," she said, "or thought I was," she continued, "I could have gone back, I still can--obviously--but I didn't because I believed that there was a better solution then the one my forefather's came up with," she sighed, "oh I know the Guardians are here and all that fun," she glanced at him, "but if they're doing such a bang up job, then why are we trekking to go and get help?" he was silent, "look this will never work if we're fighting all the time so how about we call a truce?"

"Fine," he said.

"That's not very truce-like," she commented, "I've obviously done something to offend you and I'm sorry but you're acting--" she stopped.

"I"m acting like what?" he demanded.

"You're acting like I killed your lover!" she got out. His head turned away as if she had slapped him, "no," she breathed, "no, absolutely not, you and I?" she ran a hand through her hair, "it's completely insane! Even before--I was still a Witch Hunter."

"And I was a Warlock," he said turning to her, "and we were both Guardians along with Caleb," he continued, "and we were in love," the world tasted foul on his tongue, speaking it aloud to someone who was looking at him as if he had just told her the moon was made of cheese. Running his hand over his face, he shook his head, "I know you don't believe me," he said, "how could you? You're a Witch Hunter. But you know Parker Donovan? The one who was hunting you?"

"Yes," she said slowly.

"I killed him," he said firmly, "you know why? I killed him to protect--to save--you."

"No-one---" she began.

"Ever saves me," he finished, "yes you told me that a few days later when I set out to find Caleb and you followed me. You said I was the first person to ever rescue you."

"This explains a lot," she said, "you cared so much," she continued and he opened his mouth, "even Caleb didn't argue with me--" she covered her mouth with her hands, "I remembered the smell of you first--" she stepped back, "you're a Warlock," she gasped, "how can I go back if I'm--"

"You're not," he said brushing past her and stopping, "we don't even know each other. The woman I was in love with," he sighed and turned around, "the woman I was in love with is dead."

"And I killed her?" she demanded, trying to summon anger and failing miserably, "I did," she said softly, "I took her away and every time you look at me, its like watching her die over again," she shook her head, "I hate forbidden, epic romance for a very good reason! Every time it happens--" she stomped her foot, "nothing good can come of this forbidden, whatever, it is!"

"Obviously," Chase pointed out.

"Well you know what the solution is don't you?" she snapped.

"No, enlighten me," he said raising his eyebrows.

Of all the things he expected to happen, of all the possible outcomes, Claire grabbing his shoulders and pressing her lips to his was not one of them. His eyes widened in shock before slowly closing as his arms pulled her flush against him. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. They were in the woods, about to head off to one of the Witch Hunter strongholds and yet, none of that seemed to matter. His mind had gone blissfully blank at the familiar motion, blank save for one thought: she tasted the same. Somewhere along the line, the kiss turned from heated to comforting and all that mattered was the feeling. Her hands against the back of his neck, his own tracing some invisible pattern across her back. They broke apart and stared at each other.

Back at the cottage, Sarah wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the window. The room was silent and empty, thick with anticipation. She wished it were calm, she needed the calm after what she had just seen. Her parents giving her away to spare her life, knowing they would be dead within hours. Bram and Elizabeth, the names sounded so strange when associated with her parents--her parents. She had never wanted to find them, she told herself she didn't need to find them and look where it got her. She was some kind of twisted version of a princess, that was what her name meant. She had just never thought it would be literal. Saray--Sarah, so close yet so completely different. Her musings were cut short by the sound of a door opening.

Sarah turned around to face him. She was still not used to his appearance, he looked so different. It wasn't just the obvious wings. He was more muscular than when they had parted, his hair was longer and his eyes were so haunted. They hadn't spoken, actually, since she had fallen into his arms. Suddenly she wasn't too sure that she was right to forgive him so quickly. It was unsettling to think that once again he had saved her. Forcing herself to let her arms fall down to her sides, she settled herself for what she anticipated to be nothing short of a battle. Legendary tortured Guardian or not, he wasn't getting off the hook easily.

"Hello Caleb," she said looking at him squarely.

"Hi," he said, for a moment looking like the eighteen year old boy who had left them all those years ago.

"How could you just leave us like that?" she burst out going toe to toe with him, "how could you just walk away like we were nothing! Did we--did I ever mean anything to you?!"

"What?" he breathed.

"I mean one minuet you're there and the next you're gone. We don't hear a word for six years! Six years!" she cried desperately, "you just left us! Do you have any idea what we've been through?! There is no more Covenant of Ipswitch! We're scattered like leaves to the wind, like we never knew each other! You were supposed to be there damn it! You, Chase, Claire--you were supposed to be there!"

"I wanted to be there!" he shouted back, his eyes blazing, "you think this has been easy for me? That I haven't spent every breath thinking, dreaming, of seeing you again?! I've been in hell for the past six years!"

"And whose fault is that?!" she demanded.

"What the hell was I supposed to do?!" he demanded, "I'm not like my father--I couldn't just sit back, get Addicted and die! I had to do something with it," she opened her mouth but he rambled on, "I don't regret doing something good with the Power, I don't regret finding a way to use it to help people But leaving everyone behind, especially you was the hardest thing I've ever done! I wish to God I had found another way to do it."

"Was it worth it?" she questioned, but her voice sounded weak even to her.

"No," he said looking at her squarely.

What the hell was she supposed to say to that? No? She wished he had said it was worth it, she wished he had said that he would do it again, she wished he had said anything but no. It wasn't only the word, it was the way he said it as if he had never been more sure of anything in his life. The fact that he wasn't walking away seemed to cement his words. It would be so easy for him to walk away from the room, go downstairs or far away. But he was still standing there. She let out the breath that she had been holding and looked away, trying to figure out where to go next.

"I found my parents," were the words that came out of her lips. He was silent, "it turns out I'm the last member of a Covenant," she kept her face away, not wanting to see his reaction to her words, "I can Use, but I need a source of Power," she closed her eyes and turned to face him, "a source like you."

"No," he said, "I know what you're about to say and the answer is no."

"But it would explain why we connected," she said.

"I know I hurt you," he said, "but we were in love, if you don't believe anything else then believe that."

"I want too," she said closing her eyes, "I really want too but I don't remember what it feels like," she said, "I haven't felt anything in years, I don't remember what it feels like to do anything but exist--I'm numb and I hate it!"

"I know," he said.

"How could you possibly know?!"

"Because I'm just as numb!" he shouted, "knowing you hate me is the first time I've felt something, anything in six years!" she turned her head like she had been slapped, his words stinging worse than any physical blow could blow.

"I wish I could hate you!" she said turning to face him, "I wish every day that I could hate you! Hating you would be easy! I keep telling myself that I could move on! That I could put all this behind me like some bad dream if only I could stop loving you!"

It was Caleb's turn to be speechless.