Nikki had to admit, when shit needed to get done quickly, Dorian could get it done quickly. Ally houses, trusted ones, were called upon for any extra gear and belongings needing collecting from Los Angeles and Nashville, where Nikki and James lived. D.j. was easy to collect for as earlier in the year he had moved to Las Vegas himself. Come dusk, the night before the Rock in Rio event, everything had been packed into the obscenely large private jet. Its generous holding area was big enough for the all gear and other miscellaneous things Dorian had ordered to be brought along. Nikki suspected it was items necessary for war. If the occasion called for it. He hoped to whichever deity that whatever was in the titanium boxes, would remain there.
He and James kept their on D.j. He had pretty much kept to himself the last three days and nights. The revelations and consequences had quietened him somewhat. The times they had taken turns in checking on him, the guitarist had set up camp so to speak, on the bedroom floor with his personal gear. He had his skull and stitches guitar, his 'Chrome Bones' acoustic that he himself had designed, a laptop, headphones, plug ins for the guitars to go into the laptop, and pad of paper scrawled all through with music notes and words. He'd been writing songs, or pieces that would become songs, non stop. He was pouring everything he was feeling and thinking into them.

It was hard not to be empathetical to what D.j. was projecting emotionally. Even if Nikki did not have that particular gift, which he did, and he used it almost instinctively around D.j. and James. Mostly with D.j. With James' feelings, he still held many questions, but had come to accept the situation he was in. Nikki's foresight was still taking him on learning curves. And often the images he saw were vague at best. Clarity was still a work in progress. He watched his younger friend, brother, packing his belongings for the flight.

"How is he this evening?"

"Still quiet Dorian. I've never known him to be so silent. His emotional projections however, are far from quiet." Nikki responded. Dorian nodded.

"Unlike James, he had more than just you and our shared condition to wrap his head around."

"I keep trying to see ahead of him, but its cloudy."

"Cloudy?"

"Yes. Like a dark stormy cloud about him. I can't get any images, not even vague ones. What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. I think something along the lines of uncertainty, or to unpredictable to be written yet I would have to confer with David, he's the only strong bearer of foresight close to our house." He patted Nikki's shoulder and wandered away.

It was only once he was out of Nikki's line of sight that he quickened his pace and made for his office. His face bearing that of someone with great concern. Nikki's words had clearly unnerved him.

D.j. waited in the private boarding lounge with everyone else. He sat off to the side by the window, watching security and baggage handlers finish loading Dorian's plane. Even they were human retainers of Dorian's, D.j discovered. So that nothing untoward could be reported and all secrets kept. He stretched his leg forward, scuffing the heel of his converse against the floor and rested on it. Rio was going to prove a busy and welcome distraction. Two bands to organize and play for. And a little PR on the side. He of course also had all his recent demos to work on. Yes, welcomed distractions.

He did feel a little bad for avoiding Nikki and James though. They were there for him, and kept checking on him. Just like brothers do. He reprimanded himself and promised silently to be more interactive with them. He would've talked to Dorian more, but she was always there. And that was just unbearable. And with what happened at The Palms, she was their protection. Yes, he'll just keep busy. If he's busy he could ignore her presence. He told himself. A hand pinched his shoulder and he glanced up. Nikki gestured with a nod to the boarding gate.

"Time to go."

"Let's rock and roll brother."

He followed Nikki and James, who were fronted by Dorian, Billy and Eric. And heading up the rear behind D.j. was Lahja and Dmitry. As far as he was aware, Nikki had sent the Sixx: A.M. crew down there two days earlier. He was sure that the Guns 'N' Roses crew, including band members, had already flown down there today, or at the very least tonight. He found a seat,opposite a table with Nikki and James, conveniently lumping his carry on luggage on the spare seat next to him.

The interior of the plane was lush. Actually lush was an understatement, it was a flying five star hotel. Italian leather seats with a dark mahogany wooden trim and finish round the edges of all the furniture. Going down the inside the plane could sit about thirty people from a look, there was a kitchen down the hall. And past that was a mini conference room and then a few bedroom suites, each with their own small private toilet and shower for longer flights. Dorian had placed himself on the U shaped lounge running along the left side windows. Eric checked in with the pilot. Billy and Dmitry sat towards the end of the lounge area, and Lahja found a singular seat and table near the front.

"Jesus these chairs are bigger than most armchairs" James observed.

"Please buckle in Mr Morgan and guests, we're ready for take off." The captain's voice came over the speakers. Everyone took their seats and did up the seat belts.

D.j. slid the opposing ends of the buckle across him. A click indicting they were connected. The engines on either side of the wings coughed and whirled to life, sending a heavy and low vibration throughout. He avoided her stare which he could feel on him. He could always feel it when she looked at him. His heart would beat louder and his muscles would tense. He slid his headphones back up over his ears and using his thumb on the iphone screen he hit play, then cast his own gaze out the window. The plane sped down the runway, then eventually with the captain's urging, the nose lifted first and then the rest of the plane.

He picked up the phone. Not being on home turf would make them vulnerable. And even if attacked, he knew Dorian would not break masquerade and not allow humans to be placed in harm's way. He would get what he wanted, the forcing of Dorian's hand, and she would get what she wanted, Lahja's head. He speed dialled her, hidden under someone elses name in the cell's contact list. It rang twice before it was picked up.

"Yes?"

"They've left for Rio. Send your lot and wolves down there."

"Understood. And thankyou."

He ended the call. He would deal with her, her house, and the wolves once he was Prince. He had no intention of letting any of them live to tell what would transpire.

Inside the Hilton, most of the top floor had band, crew, or vampires in it. D.j this time shared a room with Nikki and James. As opposed to alone. No one was allowed to be on their own Dorian had decided. D.j had half a mind to disagree, but decided against it. They didn't know who the exact target was, and couldn't take any chances. At least, in the bathroom, D.j was alone. He'd gotten out of the shower and stood simply with a towel around his waist. Palms down he leaned forward on the counter top and with eyes closed just tried to breathe normally. He could feel the wet lengthy strands of hair sticking to his high cheek bones. He looked up at the person in the mirror. Blue eyes that studied the other in perfect mimic. He steeled his expression, but his eyes alone still told a story of heartache if someone was to look closely.

He heard his friends, nay, brothers, laughing beyond the door and sanctuary of the bathroom. They were sticking by his side no matter what. Who could ask for better than that? Who else would do that for him? He glanced his stomach tattoo. Emblazoned across his abdominal muscles in an arc was the word Havoc in thick black lettering. Havoc was an understatement right now. He sighed and thumped the counter top half-arsed. He threw the towel off and dressed. After boxers, he pulled on another pair of his Ashba swag jeans. Black with a few patches of other black materials and skulls adorning majority of the bottom half of the legs. He slipped on one of his trademark blue checked flannel shirts and rolled the sleeves up. Around his neck, an Ashba swag necklace that looped once around his neck and then hung down his chest from the weight of the rustic looking key that served as a pendant. After he loosely brushed out his hair, he pulled on a black beanie that had three silver ball closure piercing rings in the left edge.

Again to face the man in the mirror. He looked like D.j. A little reapplication of black eyeliner and he decided if nothing else he looked and would try and behave like the normal D.j. Try, being the tenuous word. He left pulled the door open and saw his brothers. Nikki was laying on the floor writing notes around what D.j had been writing down the last week. James was on D.j's bed with D.j's headphones on, tapping his bare foot in time to whatever was playing. Nikki's spikey messy hair moved in time with his nodding as he tapped out on of D.j's rhythms with a pen on the pad while murmuring to himself. It was he who stopped and craned his neck around to see D.j observing them.

"There's some heavy work here kiddo." He stated. He was of course drawing on both the demos and the lyrical notes. They were emotionally heavy laden. D.j sat on the floor near Nikki, his back leanng up against one of the other beds.

"Had a lot on my heart and soul this week. This was the best place to put it."

About an hour later they had joined Richard Fortus, Ron Bumblefoot Thal and Frank Ferrar from Guns n Roses in the bar of the hotel. The place had turned into a party. Richard's skinny tattooed frame leaned back on the bar in a cool manner while his longish, straight black hair hung his face and around his shoulders. He was casually flirting with one of the waitresses. D.j and Nikki rolled their eyes. Ron, and his long, wild man fuzzy brown hair and thick beard had commandeered at least three of the PR girls into his clutches and was sitting in a cushioned alcove loudly laughing and telling them no doubt wild stories. Frank joined the trio down the quiet left side of the bar. He was a tall, stocky, but well built black man with a shaved head and short beard.

"This round on me boys," he offered. Nikki had coke, James took a jack and coke, and D.j ordered a Heineken and a shot of Jagermeister.

Through the crowd, Nikki could see Lahja, Dmitry and Eric at various vantage points of the room. He noticed Lahja doing her best to be inconspicuous and unnoticeable to D.j. She glanced at Nikki and nodded slightly. Nikki returned the gesture and went to turn back to conversation, when he spotted an unusual suspect at the impromptu party.

"Hey motherfucker" Tommy Lee exclaimed, patting the Motley Crue bassist on the back. Infamous Tommy Lee. Drummer for Motley and all round trouble maker. Lewd, crude and heavily tattooed as someone once said. The tall thin drummer hugged Nikki briefly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I got pulled in last minute with Aero to play the after party tomorrow." Tommy answered. He'd been djing and experimenting in electronic music with a friend who went by the name Dj Aero.

"Besides, after what you told me on the phone, I figured James and D.j could use a friend who's been in their position."

"It gets more complicated than that Tommy," Nikki sighed and proceeded to fill Tommy in on everything. Tommy's eyes widened.

"Wow, when it rains with you lot it doesnt just pour, its a goddamn monsoon." Tommy stated shaking his head.

And now that he looked at D.j, even thought the kid was laughing it up with James and Frank, it looked more like a brave cover. Tommy stubbed the cigarette into the bar's ashtray. And he thought it had been tough when he found out everything. Clearly D.j was copping it on an extreme level. Nikki grasped his water bottle and loitered over to Lahja. Leaving Tommy watching the younger guitarist. Tommy slowly moved over to the trio and rested himself on James' shoulder.

"Mr Lee" Frank greeted with a firm handshake.

James and D.j hugged their friend and offered a drink. Eventually James and Frank had either disappeared or had found company, leaving D.j and Tommy alone at the bar. D.j had down a few Jagermeister shots by this stage and was finally feeling a little numb for the first time in days.

"You ok kid?"

D.j. shrugged and exhaled firmly.

"To be honest, I don't know."

"Yeah I can guess." Tommy offered his support. "Look if you ever need a third party to talk to, someone not involved but knows whats going on, you just gotta call me."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

D.j sat quietly next to Tommy for awhile, sharing a few cigarettes between them. Tommy was leaving the air open for D.j to talk if he wanted to. He could see the younger man's mind was burdened.

"I just feel anxious, and on edge, all the time. I even can feel it when she's in the room, or looking at me, like right now."

Tommy glanced around and caught Lahja watching from the other end of the semi circle shaped bar. Tommy ordered shots again. It didn't hurt to drown one's sorrows once in blue moon. And the drummer figured after the week the other man had endured he deserved it.

A dark plane touched down in Rio de Janiero on a private landing strip. Te pth was only modestly lit so no one in the surrounding areas could see what was going on. Several large men exited the craft as well as several men of normal frame but their pale skin was obvious under the moonlight.