::Accidentally erased the original chapter I posted along with any and all responses to reviews. Sorry! But here is the edited chapter :P::

Chapter 29

Mae leaned against the bathroom door. Her arm rested on the cold white sink and she leaned on it for support. The bathroom was slowly filling with steam, fogging up the small medicine cabinet mirror and making beads of water appear on the dull blue tiles. Mae breathed in the thick warm air and sagged against the dark wood door, fatigue getting the best of her. Her muscles all burned as if she had over worked each and every one of them. Even as the warm steam filled the room, her body shook, assaulted by the cold in her mind. It seemed to travel down from the stolen corner in her mind through her veins to the rest of her body, chilling her arms and legs, making her fingers stiff and her toes numb.

Mae shivered. Tears that had pooled in her eyes began to fall slowly down her face, their momentum slowing until they stopped completely, midway down her pale cheek, and freezing solid. Mae felt the cold intensify and her tears become little icicles and viciously tore them from her face, her nails cutting her skin and leaving clean red lines that bubbled with droplets of blood before closing over completely as if they were never there.

She stood, intent on stealing all the warmth she could from the shower and slipped on the water slicked tiles. Her head connected soundly with the large porcelain tub and she saw stars.


Vincent stepped outside the inn, Chaos humming inside his mind, pleased to be out under the large moon. The hulking frame in front of him stopped a few feet away and turned his head up to the moon. Vincent imagined that he must enjoy the open air as well.

Timothy felt the rush of the wind, the pull of the moon and the deep midnight blue of the sky. As he tilted his head back he felt the sky embrace him. Vertigo assaulted him and he felt as if he would fall into that eternal blackness and never feel solid ground again. He closed his eyes and listened to the night. He heard the heartbeat of the man behind him and slowly let his mind pull back into him. He let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Vincent…" the name sounded strange on his tongue, but then again so did most words now-a-days.

Vincent stayed silent. The way the big man had said his name, it wasn't asking his attention, or a question, it wasn't even a statement, it was as if he was trying out his name, seeing how it sounded, how it felt to say. He watched the older man turn and look at him.

"Vincent, can you keep up with me?"

Vincent felt himself frown at the strange question. Either this man didn't understand what he'd asked or he hadn't talked to people in a long time. Vincent was willing to bet the latter.

"I can," he said simply. The big man moved quicker then Vincent thought he could and he tensed as the man reached for him. The large hand, reminiscent of a bear paw, stopped suddenly and Vincent stared down at it. He… he wanted to shake hands?

Vincent looked up at the big man questioningly, but when no explanation was forthcoming he dropped the surprise and straightened his back. He held out his hand, a pinch of hope in his eyes that Mae's father wouldn't try and attack him. He knew that the man was probably powerful, but Vincent was much older then him and would be able to easily pummel him into the ground, not that he would say that to the older man's face. The last thing you wanted to do was gloat when faced with a demon or a human that possessed one.

Speaking of which…

Vincent opened his mouth to ask the big man about his demon and how he… acquired it, but was cut off by the low rumble of the man's voice.

"My name is Timothy Trilplin." Vincent shut his mouth when he realized that the man was trying to be civil with him and introduce himself. He squeezed the big man's hand.

"My name is Vincent Valentine." Vincent felt the return pressure exerted on his hand, a bit too much, but he ignored it. He was turning the last name of the man over and over in his head, feeling it out. Mae hand never told him her last name. He hadn't asked it and she hadn't offered it. He supposed that it was habit to not tell anyone her last name for her own protection. He was surprised that she'd told him her real first name. He imagined that using a false name wasn't enough to keep Reixez off her tale long enough for her to be bothered.

Timothy watched the tall dark man. He was thinking about something, he could tell by the distant look in his eyes. Though Timothy knew this, he also knew that the moment he made a move the man's eyes would follow him as if possessed. It was the trait of a hunter. Or of the hunted.

Timothy turned and felt the demon in his mind shift. It had been a part of him long enough that he no longer minded the strange thoughts that floated through his mind here and there. Sometimes they were casual thoughts that could have come from his own mind, and other times they floated around his own thoughts like the little news strip at the bottom of the TV. Other times they would interrupt his thoughts, breaking them apart. When this happened it was usually because there was danger in the area, he was being followed, or something else was happening the demon thought he should know.

They weren't always life saving thoughts, sometimes they were rather useless and unexpected. For example, one time the demon interrupted his thoughts about lunch to inform him that the dress on the woman walking down the street was absolutely hideous. Timothy had actually stopped at that one, questioning the demon with his thoughts and watching the woman in the hideous dress walk into a flower shop. The demon explained that the ugly pattern on the dress offended its good taste. Timothy, not knowing what else to do, shook his head and ignored the demon like he always did.

Timothy got a nudge from the demon, bringing him to attention. At first he thought he was getting poked at for the thoughts about the dress, but then he noticed that Vincent had begun to walk and was a few feet ahead of him.

"You asked me if I could keep up," he said, his eyes taking on an eerie glow. Timothy nodded and walked up beside him.

"I did. You said you could. So keep up." Timothy let the demon shift to the top of his mind and felt his being shift. His legs felt like air and that afforded him more speed and freedom of movement. He didn't waste it. Vincent felt his adrenalin spike when Timothy shot off into the distance. He felt the challenge take root in Chaos' mind and the demon's presence in his mind spread out, blanketing his own thoughts.

He did not shift to demon form, as Mae's father had not, but he allowed some changes. As he followed a good 100 feet behind Timothy his wings burst from his back. The small change slowed him for a moment, but then Chaos asserted more control over his body and speed was given to him. His wings flapped, their powerful muscles dipping into his back and taking root into his shoulder blades. Vincent felt the exhilarating feeling of freedom as his feet began to lift off the ground. He slowly began to close some of the distance between him and Timothy.

The older man felt the changes in Vincent's aura and power and grinned. The red eyed man was holding back from transforming. Good, that meant he was much more powerful then he was letting on. Timothy easily floated over the vast canyons formed in the spiked mountain range and sped effortlessly towards the small cave where the smell of blood was overwhelming. Mae's blood. His baby's blood. Anger welled in him, but the big man pushed it down. It he allowed himself to get angry then nothing good would come out of this meeting.

He reached the edge of the flat shelf where the carnage had taken place and pushed the demon's influence into submission. His legs once again became trapped in their fleshy prison and touched solid ground.

Vincent smelled the tang of blood on the air and knew immediately where he was following Mae's dad to. He felt shame and guilt pricking at his mind. Chaos growled at him and pulled back the power he was lending his host. Vincent faltered in the air, his wings losing a bit of strength, but managed to angrily pull Chaos' power back and land gracefully behind Timothy. He pushed the demon into a corner of his mind ignoring the taunting laughter. The demon was irritated with him, but Vincent couldn't figure out why. He'd been restless ever since Timothy had shown up. He didn't think it was because of the big man himself though. It didn't make sense.

Vincent stayed close to the edge of the flat shelf of land, preferring an escape route in case Mae's father decided to be hostile about what was done to his daughter under his care. His back was to Vincent for the moment and no matter what he tried Vincent couldn't seem to catch a whiff of the man's scent or a glimpse of his aura. Both would have been able to tell him whether or not the man was angry or had the intention of starting a fight. The wind had changed direction and now all he could smell was Mae's blood.

His teeth shifted and his fangs dropped. He cursed silently and tried to get control of himself. He was disgusted with his reaction to the smell of Mae's blood and his anger only grew when Chaos began to hum greedily in his mind. Vincent blocked the demon out as best he could, but it was near impossible to block out the demon's humming. He forced himself back to reality and stared hard at Timothy's back, praying for the wind to shift again and take the smell away from him.

Thankfully it did. Timothy turned to face him.

"Boy," he began.

Vincent felt his anger flare at the insinuation that he was a child compared to the man, but let it go. His appearance led the man to that conclusion. It was not worth getting all up in arms about it. He did not let his wings retreat back into him and instead folded them neatly behind him. It was not meant as a threat or challenge or as a display of power. It just took a lot of energy to pull them back out again and it was easier to keep them at the ready for the flight back to the Inn.

Timothy did not turn to face Vincent, but rather kept his back to him. It made it easier to talk to the younger man. He was not used to talking at length with anyone. He'd had a hard time with it when his family was still alive. Silence and the demon in his head had been his only companion over the past few years. He did not have to struggle to find the words to say, but he struggled with saying them right.

"What happened here? To my daughter, what happened?" Vincent had to struggle to hear him over the wind and the humming in his head.

"She was taken here by Reixez," he began. "She tried to keep us safe by leaving and he took advantage of that." He saw Timothy's shoulders twitch at the mention of Reixez. "He's been following her, hunting her."

"What did he do to her here?" Timothy said with a touch of anger. The smell of blood was beginning to get to him. Vincent thought the anger was directed at him and felt his shame grow.

"He tortured her," he said his voice thick with anger and guilt. "He forced her to take a demon into her body and then he ripped its wings out of her back, forcing her to transform." Vincent paused to gain control of the anger bubbling up in his chest. "She didn't fully transform thank the gods. She wasn't fully integrated with the demon yet. He tried to rush it and ended up frying her senses instead of making her transform."

Timothy growled, the low sound coaxed a growl from Chaos. Vincent's fangs were now fully visible, though it wasn't from the smell of blood anymore. It was because he wanted to rip Reixez's head off for what he did.

Sensing his anger, Timothy turned around and took a good look at Vincent. The dark man's eyes were almost completely red, his pupils contracting until they were barely visible. His fangs had dropped and his fists were clenched with anger. His power lapped at the ground and air surrounding him and Timothy could feel it, popping and crackling like electricity.

Timothy felt a bit of the fear for his daughter ebb. The red eyed man was angry about what had been done to her, and he had power. Nothing near what Reixez had, he was a very old demon, a walking plague that had been around far too long, but he might be able to help Timothy put an end to the bastard.

"How did she get away from him?" Vincent relaxed a little when he realized what he was doing. He pulled back his power and closed his eyes, reaching inside himself for the calm facade he usually put on. It was hard for him to do that when Mae was involved. Another reason that his feelings for her were becoming dangerous. Dangerous because they made him more passionate in every aspect of things, and anger was one of them. No one needed another angry demon on the loose. He let his breath out and some more tension slipped away.

"She didn't… at least I don't think she did." Vincent ran his hand through his hair, on edge from his feelings, the smell of blood, and the memories of Mae cowering from him and yet lusting for his blood, her self hatred and fear driving at him. "When I got there she was alone and he had gone already." He knew the next question before Timothy even had the chance to voice it. "I didn't go after him."

"Why?" There was anger in that question and Vincent looked up at him defiantly.

"Would you have left her there to bleed to death or go insane from blood lust? I think not."

Vincent watched an interesting wave of emotions cross Timothy's face before the mountainous man nodded sagely. "I see."

"You see what?" Vincent wanted to ask. He held his tongue.


:: Booo ya!