The flight attendants and the other passengers alike gave Scara a wide berth getting off the plane. She didn't care; as soon as she was clear of the unloading ramp, her long strides carried her quickly out of the terminal, to where a big black van waited in the pick-up zone, a slender young man in slacks and a sweater vest beside it with a sign proclaiming her name.
She flinched as a soft ray of sunlight caught her on the way over, and the young man quickly opened the back door for her; she all but lunged into the vehicle to get out of the sun. Thankfully, the windows were painted over with black paint, and a heavy curtain hung between the back and the cab. She settled herself in the seat as the engine turned over and the van pulled out.
"Ash book a room at a hotel nearby for you," a young British man's voice floated back to her. She assumed it was the same boy who'd been holding the sign. "There's an underground garage where we'll let you out that has a lift to the lobby, so you should be safe getting to your room. I'll go with you and check to be sure none of the maids left the curtains open." She grunted in reply, too tired to work up a suitable response; it'd been almost thirty hours since she'd gotten any sleep, and unlike some Dark-Hunters who rarely slept, or could go weeks on end with only a couple hours of sleep throughout, she actually slept regularly. Fitfully, but regularly.
The ride was uneventful and thankfully short, as was the trip up to her room. The moment the young man left, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the bed, not bothering to undress.
Katrina was dreaming. An odd one to say the least; she couldn't see or feel anything, but could hear a masculine voice speaking to her. Only it wasn't the storm god, it was much more... demonic. Evil. And seemed to be egging her current states of anger on even though she tried not to listen. Slowly, against her will, the anger grew and grew, and turned into something ugly.
That anger turned to a burning hatred, which slowly turned towards vengeance.
She woke up just about sunset with a jerk, panting heavily for a moment before shaking it off. Getting up and looking out the window, she cursed and realized that the sun was turning the entire countryside a dark orange; it was going to be night soon. If she really planned to avoid being found, she needed to move. It's not like they could find her exact location, but she also didn't want anyone nearby so no one got hurt.
Turning from the window, she quickly dressed and packed up what she had taken out of her bag. In her hurry, she almost missed a foreign object that she had never packed in the bag. It was a long, thin, two-handed blade with a cross safeguard and a handle wrapped with black and white leather. Around the sheath was a red belt that was used to hold the sheath to someone's hip and attached to the belt was a note.
You have more need of it than me.
But please send it back when you're done.
~H.
Nightmares chased the Dark-Huntress in and out of sleep all day long, until she glanced at her phone and realized it was nearly sunset. She jumped to her feet and paused while the dizziness faded, then grabbed her shoes and began tugging them on.
Someone knocked on the door as she did so, and she stumbled over to open it, still wedging her way into the second shoe. The young man from early that morning was there, and frowned curiously at her rumpled attire.
"Did you perhaps sleep in your clothes?" he asked.
"Buzz off," she scowled at him, shoving locks of bed-head curls out of her face. "Is the car ready?" She pushed past him and headed back the way they'd come that morning.
"Ah, yes, ma'am," he said, scurrying to catch up. "Ash has you on the next flight to Scotland, where you will need to switch flights to a smaller airline that will take you to Barra."
"How long?" she asked, skipping the elevator in favour of the stairs.
"Pardon?"
"How long?" she barked, irritated. "Till I land in Barra?"
"Oh... A few hours, I presume," he answered. She scowled as she slammed through the door into the garage.
"You'd better not screw with me on this, Fates," she warned under her breath, climbing into the back of the van. "I will personally find a way to Olympus and kick your asses bloody."
Katrina let out a yawn and stretched her arms over her head, sleepy even after a full day of sleep. She had no idea why. On a slightly worse note, she hadn't heard a thing from Susanoo at all since she left New Orleans, which she found strange but couldn't dwell on as she checked her ticket to make sure she was getting on the right plane to head back to the mainland. She had left Barra about an hour after getting up and had jumped another to a smaller airport outside London, and was heading to the next spot where they were less people and few chances of being found.
Unfortunately, she'd have to buy a winter jacket once she got there, but at least she wouldn't have to worry about exploding on everyone. She snuggled into her seat as her plane started for the take off down the runway. She leaned her head against the glass and closed her eyes as she felt the plane move.
Look out Alaska, here comes the calm before the storm.
Cathrine met Scara on the tarmac of the airport in Barra, her grim expression saying enough before they got close enough to speak.
"She's gone?" Scara growled, annoyed.
"I lost 'er 'ere in the airport an hour-thirty ago," the Irishwoman answered through gritted teeth. "She must've known..."
"No," Scara shook her head. "She's just keeping on the move in case we do catch up; she'd have left regardless."
"Still, it galls me to 'ave been so close," Cathrine huffed. Now it was clear her anger was directed at Scara. The Egyptian hardly cared; she curled a lip at the much shorter woman.
"Hmph. You remind me of Artemis like that... little twit of a woman with a childish temper..." Leaving Cathrine to turn as red as her hair, Scara called Acheron, getting away from the other Huntress quickly before their powers started draining. He answered on the first ring, as usual. "She's already gone."
"...Well?" he prompted after a moment. "So far, you're the only one who seems to know where she'll go." A touch of warmth blossomed in her chest at the praise, but she pushed it aside to focus on the task at hand.
"Next best guess would be somewhere far North," she said. "Like, Greenland-North, or upper Russia. Possibly Alaska, even."
"Great," he sighed. "I'll make some calls; where to next?"
"I'll take..." She paused a moment to think. Where would Katrina go? Greenland seemed a little too close to Barra. Russia was a viable choice, but this late in the year, it'd be hell for anyone who didn't live there. That left... "Alaska. Think Zarek would mind joining the search?"
"...I'll ask Astrid; she can present the idea to him..."
Katrina stretched her arms over her head as she came out of the airport. Surprisingly, the cold wasn't too bad. Even though she felt like a walking heater, and probably would even without the winter coat, she had to keep up appearances and zipped up the fluffy coat she'd gotten in the terminal. Her pulled her hair up into a high ponytail again as she walked into town and then stuffed her sunglasses in her duffle bag, thinking she wouldn't need them. At least, not for a disguise; what idiot Hunter, much less Daimon, would want to hunt in Alaska?
Scara's phone rang while she waited impatiently for the boarding of her flight to start. She checked it, but didn't recognize the number.
"Sebak," she answered.
"Scara, this is Zarek," a deep masculine voice introduced. Just by the sound of it, she knew he was good-looking, a fact she registered automatically; not unusual for Dark-Hunters.
"I'm just about to board; is something wrong?" she asked, careful to keep her anxiety out of her voice.
"No, actually, it's right, for once," he snorted. "One of my contacts in town just called; he saw Katrina disembark from a flight a little under half an hour ago. I'm on my way into town to check up on his story."
"Damn... I'll be there as soon as I can," she promised. "Let's not make the same mistake twice; if you catch up to her, do whatever you can to stall her. Even if it's only for a few minutes; every second brings me that much closer to catching up."
"Yeah, sure; whatever. But I warn you now, if you don't do something about her, then in two days, I'll kill her myself, if only for the fun of it."
Katrina got the feeling she was being watched. Glancing back, she didn't see anyone, but she knew better to dismiss it. After walking several more steps, she managed to catch the smallest glimpse of someone following her. A large, dangerous-looking man that she didn't doubt was attractive, but right now wasn't the time to ogle random men.
Quickening her pace slightly, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and looked around to appear relaxed, but once she made it around a corner of one of the buildings on the edge of town, she sprinted into a dead run.
Zarek sensed the moment she bolted, and wanted to curse. Ash had been right; she was a flight-risk.
Fortunately, he knew this town like the back of his hand, and he slipped through a shortcut, coming out just ahead of her. So close, in fact, that she collided with him.
"Obviously you know what I am, so I'll cut to the chase," he rumbled. "You're staying with me until Sebak arrives, then you can do whatever the hell you want in her custody."
Katrina growled as she got up from where she fell flat on her ass. "Like fucking hell I am!" She could feel that her bag was a little heavier than before but paid it no mind at the moment. Her eyes narrowed into a hard glare and parts of her irises turned red.
Now that was odd, Ash had told him her eyes might gain a bit of molten gold, not red. And it wasn't a soft red either... bloody red fit the description better.
Scowling, he pulled out his phone while she muttered something, and then snatched her wrist to keep her from bolting again.
"Ash, I've got her, but something's off," he reported. "They're red, not gold."
"Oh shit..." Instantly, Acheron was there. "Katrina, you need to calm down, now."
Her jaw clenched enough that it was a surprise it didn't snap. The growling that started in her throat was less than human. "What part of 'Leave me the hell alone' can't you fuckers understand?"
"...I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that's bad," Zarek scowled. Acheron grimaced.
"Very." He flashed them all out to the snow-covered wilderness where no civilians would be caught in the potential crossfire, but for some reason, moving Katrina took more out of him than he expected, and she didn't come quite as far out as he intended; he could just see her some two or three hundred yards away in the direction of the town. He stumbled and Zarek immediately caught him.
"That I know is bad," he said grimly. "The hell's wrong with you, Ash?"
"Her," he answered, breath a little heavier for his exertion. "I'm sending you back to Astrid; take her and the kids and get as far away as you can... evacuate the town, if you can."
"Like hell I'm leaving you," the former Dark-Hunter growled. "Not when you're like this!" Acheron would argue, but he didn't have the time or the energy to.
"Call Scara," he said. "Warn her; I'm bringing her here the hard way and I might be out of commission for a minute or two..." Scara answered the phone with a growl of annoyance.
"The flight was delayed. It'll be another t-"
"Doesn't matter," Zarek cut in. "Ash is going to bring you here himself; I'll explain when you get here."
"Uh, how?" she asked. "I just said, the flight's de-" Abruptly she was standing on a snowfield in front of Ash and a tall, dark man that she assumed was Zarek. Simultaneously, her boss collapsed and she flinched, hissing and curling down on herself to avoid the fading light of the sun.
"Fucking...!"
"Here," Zarek held out his coat, a thick leather thing that was heavier than it looked. Thankfully, it blocked the light of the sun enough that her skin only prickled at its nearness, rather than burning at its contact.
"The hell happened to Ash?" she asked, frowning with all the irritation of the past two days. The instant Zarek finished explaining, Scara took off, a strange ache rising in her chest that she recognized as panic. A few moments later, she pulled to a stop, less than a yard from the familiar form of her charge. The unhinged look of anxious confusion on Katrina's face burned Scara to her nonexistent soul. Without a second thought, she dropped the coat, reached out, and without seeming to care that her skin steamed and burned, snatched the girl to her chest.
"Thank the gods you're still alive," she breathed, her relief overcoming her usual coarse defensiveness. "Why the hell'd you run off like that, bitch? I about died of worry!"
Katrina immediately froze up, not expecting contact at all. She instinctively started struggling to get out of her grasp and Scara immediately let go, realizing the girl probably hated her. Pain was searing her body, the heavy breeze whisking away thick curls of steam from her skin, but she paid it no mind, subconsciously wincing but otherwise showing no signs of discomfort.
"You... don't want me around, do you?" she asked, voice hoarse with a different pain entirely.
Katrina's eyes were entirely blue again, but she knew there was a risk of raging like a volcano eruption because of what she suspected to be the Mazuko coming back and tearing down her mind to wreck havoc. She was going to hate herself for doing this, but there was no other choice. For everyone's sake. Especially Scara.
Taking in a shaky breath and closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the reaction, she screamed, "Just stay away from me!"
Scara's breath caught behind a lump in her throat. She stepped back, an inner pain that was ten times worse than the burning of her skin tearing through her. The last time she'd felt something of this magnitude, she'd been staring into the dead eyes of her son.
Her first instinct was to ignore the girl's cry and gather her in her arms, but she clenched her fists in an effort to stay put, knowing Katrina would only push her away. Her second desire was to knock the girl upside the head and remind her that for the next twenty-some-odd hours, Scara was still her guardian. But that wouldn't be welcomed either, even if she could get up the emotional strength for something like that.
Images of Tiff and the time they spent together flashed through her mind and she blinked back tears, swallowing hard. Stepping back again, she nodded. She should have known such a thing as a happy ending was well beyond anything she would ever get; she'd been lucky enough to have even a semblance of happiness for a few hundred years.
"I understand," she whispered, and turned toward the last light of day, no longer hiding from it. It wouldn't kill her, unfortunately, but it was already hurting like hell, which brought to mind Taylor. The little ass, shooting her in the head... She wondered if he would freak when he saw her in a Squire hospital. Katrina obviously wouldn't care. Would Ash? She'd never been able to get a read on her boss, and had no clue how he'd react to the fact that she'd willingly exposed herself to daylight. Hopefully, he'd get pissed off and relocate her to some remote island in the middle of nowhere to protect the meager natives; anywhere that wasn't New Orleans, where the memories of Katrina would hurt even more than the memories of Tiff in Tallahassee.
Katrina opened her eyes even though half of her didn't want to and bit back a curse. If Scara died because of her, she'd never forgive herself. Picking up the heavy coat and throwing it on Scara she literally pushed her as if to face-plant her into the snow, but she managed to get the godly powers to cooperate long enough that they teleported Scara over to Ash and the other man who had caught her earlier. Ash was thankfully getting up now and actually caught Scara as she reappeared right in front of them.
Take care of her. Katrina's voice whispered in his mind before turning on her heel and running off back into town. Her bag hadn't teleported with her and there was something in there she just somehow knew she needed.
"The hell...?" Zarek scowled, startled. Ash just stood there for a moment, surprised. By the time he'd recovered, Scara had as well, and she jerked away from him, choking back her sobs and keeping her face away from him so he wouldn't see the tears that had broken free of her restraints to flow unbidden down her cheeks.
"Damn it, Katrina..." she growled. Zarek did a double-take and snatched her chin, turning her to meet his gaze before she could stop him.
"Holy..." he breathed. "Sebak, your eyes are red..." She slapped his hand away.
"No shit, Sherlock," she snarled defensively. "It's called crying."
"No, I mean RED," he insisted. "Like, drying-blood red. Like, a dark albino red." She froze, realizing then that her powers had been draining. She'd automatically assumed it was from being around another Dark-Hunter, but now recalled that Zarek had his soul back and was no longer a Dark-Hunter, therefore couldn't drain her powers. Ash never had, being her boss, which left one alternative.
This was the weakness that turned her mortal again. It had to be; there was no other option. Having slept with Katrina, after falling in love, and then being rejected... She'd never had that happen before, but now she knew; this was the thing that made her human again: rejection from love.
"Fuck..."
Katrina managed to find the bag. Thankfully no one has taken it and unzipped it and started digging around inside for whatever it was she was looking for. She hand curled around a sheath when a male voice chuckled behind her that caused her to freeze.
"Found you, little hurricane."
Acheron cursed as he sensed the sudden appearance of a high-powered being he'd never come in contact with before.
"Stay here," he ordered Scara. "I sense trouble, and you're no good to anyone with your powers drained."
"But...!"
"STAY HERE!" he bellowed, eyes flashing behind the sunglasses. She closed her mouth, scowling defiantly at him, though a tremor of fear ran through her. Even Zarek winced slightly. "Zarek..."
"Watch her," the former Dark-Hunter supplied, nodding. "Yeah, I got it." Acheron nodded and vanished. Scara turned a fierce glare on Zarek, who raised his hands. "Never said I'd stop you." A light smirk tugged at Scara's lips, despite the situation; she could get to like this guy...
"Good," she said. "I'd hate to have to throw you on your ass." With that, she took off in the direction Katrina had gone, Zarek on her heels.
Unfortunately, by the time even Acheron got there, he barely made it in time to see Katrina, bound and gagged, thrown over the shoulder of a powerful being.
He appeared human enough, gave the Dark-Hunter leader a run for his money in height, and had long, wild white hair and tan skin with deep blue markings all over his body, a fact emphasised as the guy was wearing nothing more than a pair of pants. The man turned to look over his shoulder at him and smirked. His eyes were blood, demonic red. Fangs extended clearly from his upper jaw and he had claws on both hands and feet.
"Thanks for the parting gift, kid." Katrina still struggled over the man's shoulder even as he turned back around and walked, disappearing in a column of flames.
At Ash's feet was the blade Kayrina had started to pull out of her bag, just enough for the black and white leather handle to stick out.
"Shit..." he growled, working his jaw in anger.
"KATRINA!" Scara shrieked. She'd just gotten a view of someone extremely tall with white hair carrying the girl over his shoulder before both vanished. Acheron whirled as she pulled to a stop near him.
"Damn it, Sebak, I said stay!" he snapped. Terrified for Katrina and furious at her own impotence, she came right back at him, forgetting for a moment that he could blast her into a million pieces.
"And I'm supposed to do nothing while you let him take Katrina?" she spat. "I'd rather be a Shade!" He winced, recalling how the first Dark-Hunter Shade came into being, but she didn't even notice; her attention had fallen on the the blade. Heart aching, she crouched and tentatively reached out to brush her fingers across the handle.
"The hell'd it take her?" Zarek scowled, waving a hand through the place they'd vanished.
"Gods know," Acheron said, lips curling in a snarl. "I'd follow, but who knows what I'd be walking into."
"Probably worse than following a Daimon down a bolt-hole," Zarek agreed. "Now what?"
"...I need to go see Artemis about something," Acheron said reluctantly. "Get Scara somewhere safe until her powers return; I'll be back in a couple of hours or so."
"Hah! What do I tell Tori if she calls?" Zarek scoffed. "Not a chance, man; she hates the bitch as much as anyone, and I don't want to be the one she takes it out in when she finds out you're with her."
"I'll tell her myself," Acheron assured. "Just make sure Sebak doesn't do anything stupid..." The last phrase was directed more toward Scara than Zarek, the Dark-Huntress still crouched beside Katrina's bag.
"Like figuring out how to follow the Mazuko?" she growled at him, glaring. "He can't stop me, Ash, and you know it. He can try all he wants, but short of killing me, nothing, nothing will stop me from trying to get her back."
"Good," he said, surprising her. "Just postpone it till I get back; I'm going to call in some favours..."
