Author: Hedge
Spoilers: All the NW books, especially Huntress.
Rating: PG or PG-13, for slight violence, implied sex, and language.
Disclaimer: The universe this takes place in and any characters you recognize from the books belong to the lovely L.J. Smith. Azrael, Zeke, and the plot belong to me. Will and the Elite belong to my friend Wicked, and are on loan.
Synopsis: The thing about being a spy is that almost no one knows whose side you're really on. This creates problems.
"And you're sure you weren't followed?," Zeke asked again, his gaze fixed on the bounty hunter in front of him.
"I'm sure. The witch was distracted when I left. No doubt fussing over the vermin she was with." Aspen snorted in disgust, then added, "She's not a bloodhound, and I know how to cover my tracks. No way she could have followed me once I was out of sight."
Zeke's temper, always simmering just below the surface these days, boiled for a moment at Aspen's words. "Very well." His voice was tight with controlled rage. "Go get someone to properly set that knee. You'll be going after her again as soon as you've healed. Recruit someone else if you need to. I don't care what you do, just see that Azrael Dirae is dead soon." He turned towards the room's exit, feeling the need to get away from the incompetent idiot before him.
"You want me to go after her? Again? Why? She's no threat to us, not anymore..."
His protests fell silent when Zeke turned a glare on him that would have stopped an angry rhinoceros, mid-charge. As it was, it made Aspen's heart skip a beat or three. When he had come to work for Zeke on this job, the man hadn't scared him in the least, but that had changed dramatically.
Then again, when he had first started
working for him, the leader of the Night World had at least pretended
to be sane.
It was well into the afternoon by time Azrael got back to the Daybreak sanctuary. BART was running on a weekend schedule, so it took a while to catch a train, and the mob of Raiders fans that had gotten on in Oakland after a game hadn't made traveling any easier.
She had called the safhouse from the payphones at the Hayward station, both to inform them that she was still among the living, and to ask them to contact Will. As it turned out, he was already there. They had called him when Hugh had returned without her.
Hugh. Now there was a subject she really didn't want to think on too closely at the moment.
She took a cab from the station, and had the cabby stop a few blocks away, then walked the rest of the distance. Couldn't be too careful, after all. Even a taxi driver knowing about the safehouse's location would be a security breech, if the wrong person got a hold of him.
She was ushered into the conference room almost immediately, after the shape-shifter who greeted her had ascertained that she didn't need to see a healer first. There, she found Will and a pretty red-haired vampire. From the hint of red on Will's ears and the way the woman was moving her hands to emphasize what she was saying, Azrael could guess that she was flirting.
What on earth had she said to make a vampire older then indoor plumbing blush?
Will caught sight of Azrael over the woman's shoulder, and nodded to her before turning back to his companion. "Thank you for keeping me company, Soraia. However, it seems that my colleague is here, and I really need to have a talk with her."
Taking the hint, Soraia rose to her feet and moved towards the door. She winked at Azrael as she left, hazel eyes glowing with amusement and no little amount of mischief.
"What where you two talking about?"
Will glared at her, and she chuckled in response. "Alright, forget I asked."
That got a snort out of the vampire, and he waited until she had taken a seat next to him before speaking again, "I was told you went after the vampire who attacked you."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Is he dead?"
"Nope."
"Ah. Why is he not dead?"
"Because I thought it would be a better idea to track him back to where Zeke is holed up."
"Good girl. Did it work?"
"Do you think I'd be this cheerful if it hadn't worked?"
"You have a point. Call the others
together. It's time to go hunting."
The meeting bore an eerie resemblance to the one that Azrael had walked in on after escaping Zeke, except that it was a great deal more cheerful. The Elite were always happy when they had a chance to kill things, and Daybreak, while nowhere near as violent as their newfound allies, seemed to be looking forward to the chance to repay what had been done to Morgead. Another difference was that Morgead himself was in attendance this time, though looking rather grumpy since he and Jez had lost the argument as to whether or not they could go.
All of the people gathered around were fighters, as many of them as could be spared on such short notice. All of the Elite in the Bay Area, whether or not they had been working on other projects, and a dozen Daybreakers, those who weren't needed to guard the safehouse. That made about forty people all told.
The plan they turned out was a study in simplicity, which was probably a good thing. Complicated plans went awry easier. About half of the group would block the building's exits, making sure that none of Zeke's people escaped. The other half would go into the building, through any and all entrances available to them, and either kill those inside or, more likely, flush them out to those waiting outside. Azrael was part of the first group, which was led by Storm. Will would be leading the group going into the building.
She went directly from the meeting to the room where she was staying. The Elite had come already armed and ready, but she didn't waltz around with her full arsenal on a daily basis. Like the Daybreak fighters, she needed to get suited up.
She was sitting on the bed lacing up one of her boots when Hugh found her. Her door was open, and even without looking up or hearing his quiet tap on the doorframe she knew that he was standing there. She could feel him, even from half a dozen feet away.
She looked up only after she had finished with her shoe, and met his clear gray eyes. "Might as well come in."
He took a couple steps into the room, solemn gaze not leaving her face, "We need to talk."
Azrael felt a rueful smile twist her lips as she stood, "About what happened earlier? I know. But not now." He started to say something, and she held up a hand to silence him. "I might not live the night," she explained quietly, "Better to leave things as they are until we know that there's going to be something to talk about."
He looked troubled, but she had the idea it was more over the mention of her dying then in response to the fact that she didn't want to talk. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright. I understand."
"I knew you would," she replied, and started to leave. She stopped short of the door when he caught her arm in a gentle, firm grip. When she gave him a questioning look, he simply smiled and leaned over to brush his lips against hers in a quick kiss.
"Be safe."
Her heart did a strange little skip, and her mouth tingled. All the same, she managed to respond to his last comment. "I'll do my best." He let go of her arm, and she left the room.
The hit team was gathering in the foyer near the door, making things very crowded. Storm glanced up as Azrael joined them. "I'm putting you in charge of the North side of the building, and the people stationed there. I have the South, Ceyx and Kaltes are in the West, and there's a Daybreak vampire, Soraia, in the East. We'll all be in touch with eachother, and with Will and Veridian inside, using these." She held out a little microphone that clipped on to the cartilage of the ear, and Azrael accepted it.
Storm continued to regard her even after she had clipped the microphone on. After a moment, the vampire shook her head, the light catching in the gray streaks of her hair and turning them pale silver. "You seem a bit off, Az. You ok?"
Azrael considered the other Elite member silently, before she let out a breathless little laugh. "Nope. Doomed and insane, in fact."
Storm was saved from replying by Will's
order to move out.
Will watched the building across the street from him, cloaked in the shadows of a convenient alley. He couldn't see the rest of the Elite or the Daybreakers who had come with them. Nor could he feel them telepathically, as they had started blocking themselves on the way over. He could hear them if he focused, but it was only because he knew what to listen for.
All the same, he felt the need to double check. Voice low, he spoke into his little clip-on microphone, "Everyone in position?"
Silence. Then Storm's voice, also pitched soft, "Yes."
"Morituri nolumus mori." That was Kaltes, sounding far too cheerful. Ceyx's resigned sigh followed, and Will stifled a groan. He never should have let her read Terry Pratchett.
"Do I want to know?" Veridian's voice was the faintest. She and her partner were leading the part of Will's team that was attacking from the back, and she was hidden somewhere near the rear of the building, with Azrael's group.
As if on cue, the witch added, "We're ready when you are, boss."
There was another moment of quiet, and Will tensed. Then Soraia's irritated voice came over the line, "Is this stupid thing even on? Yeah, my group's in position."
"Alright," Will said, speaking to all of them, "You all know your jobs. Get going, people."
"Once more into the breech, dear friends,"
Azrael muttered, and Will snorted in agreement as he moved out of the shadows
and across the street.
Notes: Chapter Eleven, done in a short amount of time to make up for the fact that Ten took forever. Hope you're all happy with it.
Veridian and Storm make another appearance, they belong to Wicked. Soraia belongs to herself; she's my writing buddy who somehow infiltrated my fic. Then again, I did the same to her, so I suppose I can't complain. If you wish to see my fan fictional counterpart, go check out Tease II: Burned by her. Hell, check it out even if you don't want to see my counterpart.
There is a Terry Pratchett quote in here. It is clearly marked. It does not belong to me.
Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and to anyone who read but didn't review. Yes, Soraia, you were right, and thank you for the kind words, plot-less. I decided not to make the whole Azrael/Hugh thing too angst-filled, since I really couldn't think of a real reason for it despite their differences.