The wall took the strong hit, but it did not crumple like Mara half expected it too. The blow hurt less than she thought it would as well, though fire raced up her arm as soon as she hit the ground and she felt her stitches open and new blood beginning to blossom on her shirt. She could not stop long enough to worry about it; Conrad did not have that kind of time.

She managed to push herself to her feet, her broken arm dangling uselessly at her side. She silently mourned for the loss of its use, until her father came at her again, forcing her to drop a roll to the side to avoid a blow. Pain mixed with anger and panic, making her move quicker despite her weakened state. His foot kicked the wall instead, and she heard him curse as he went for her again.

Remember your training, remember, remember! Her mind was yelling at her, and she was trying to force herself to recall all of those times she got her ass handed to her by Oscuridad. All of the moves her had shown her, the fall back plans. They would be hard, with a useless arm and all, but she was willing to thrown the stone.

She sprang to her feet, throwing all of her body weight into her father's stomach, sending him falling. He got a good kick to her chest though, and she fell back as well, hitting a small desk that was in the room, landing on the smooth top. Her good hand encountered cloth, and she blinked, looking down at her fingers to find clothes.

Conrad's clothes! She took the pants in her fists, rolling from the desk to the floor as her father landed a punishing blow that made the desk creak as it fell in two. She shoved her hand into the pocket, searching with desperation for something she prayed was still there. His clothes were here, that meant he must not be far off.

Her father grabbed her shirt, sliding her across the floor and she wanted to scream when her grip was lost on the pants. She needed them! Damnit! He rolled her over, putting a foot squarely on her chest, putting slow pressure down as he looked down upon her like a war god would look upon something that had failed terribly.

Death, blood, so much blood . . . it took her a moment to realize these thoughts were not hers, they were Conrad's. With that realization she had to struggle not to let herself be swept away in his panic and despair. She had to get to him she just had too. Tears began welling in her eyes, not from the pain her father was putting on her, or from her wounds, but from the fact she had failed to do what she needed to. To save the one she loved, to make her family whole again.

Family.

"Any last words, before I kill you for a second time?" her father sneered, and she could tell her ribs were almost to their breaking point. Oh yea, she had some last few words. And he wasn't going to like it as much as she was.

"DAAAAADDDD!!!!!!!" she screamed, as loud as she could with strained lungs, and as high pitch as she could reach. Her father laughed, obviously thinking she was merely sobbing for someone who was not there in her last moments of her second life. To think, she wasn't even a day old yet, and she was already going to die by his hand for the second time around. Damn, karma was a bitch.

He was still laughing when Oscuridad materialized behind him, so silent that a vampire would not have even known his presence was near. His eyes were dark with hatred, anger, and something Mara has seen countless times before. Parental protection. He nodded to her, seeing in her eyes he was not to kill her father, but anything else was acceptable. He leaned towards her father, until his mouth was by his ear.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" just one line, in the calmest voice possible. And yet it was the most deadly thing Mara had ever heard.

Pure shock flittered across her fathers face, and just as he went to spin around Oscuridad struck him from the side, sending him sailing to the other side of the room. He moved towards her father in long legged movement, movements of a very pissed off parental predator. If she had not asked Oscuridad to not kill him, her father would have no chance on earth. But, as it turned out, he didn't have a chance anyway.

She twisted on the floor, and began squirming and wiggling her way towards Conrad's clothes that lay only several feel away from her. She froze when her father's body sailed over her, landing right on the pants. She threw a dark glare at Oscuridad, who did not even offer a smile in return. It was then she knew how angry he was. It was not just a single anger, which grew on one subject like a grape vine. No, he was pissed about a lot of things, and she could guess she was really going to get it when all of this calmed down.

He stalked past her as if he never even saw her, picking up her father and again throwing him to the opposite side of the room. She pushed herself as hard to could, finally reached the pants and thrusting her hands into the pockets. And finally she withdrew what she wanted, what she needed and Conrad has unknowingly provided her.

Her witch blade.

She forced herself up, and without warning Oscuridad shoved her father towards her and she was forced to swipe the blade out quickly, the magic in the blade acting up on the contact of his skin, blocking his healing ability. She came across his stomach, and the skin spilt open, his insides spilling out and onto the floor at their feet. He looked down at his own organs with shock and horror. Quickly, she pulled the blade back and forced herself not to be squeamish. She swung it with all the might left in her, and took his head clean off, sending it rolling across the room and out the door.

But when his body fell, she did not stop there, tears streaming down her face she went down with it, stabbing it repeatedly. She was covered in head to toe with his blood soon, but she could not bring herself to stop.

She had killed her own father.

That was her legacy.

Finally, with a scream of emotion pain, she stopped, doubling over as her sobs grew. Oscuridad stood on the corner, no more than a shadow in the darkness. She knew he wanted to come to her, but he also knew she had to deal with this on her own. She was born to do this, and she would be damned if she failed a second time. She had changed history, changed fate, and she was not going to waste it mourning over a monster who had given her life.

My mother gave me life, she reminded herself, and completely cast the image of her father from her mind, thinking of Conrad and Sasha, and the rest of her family. They were safe, she was safe, they were all together, that was all that mattered.

Weakly, she stood and hunkered towards the next door, the one that was still closed and untouched by the violence. She put her hand on the wood of the door, feeling Conrad's presence on the other side. But she also felt another presence, and she pushed the door open, dripping with blood and the witch knife still clamped in her hand, which was dangling at her side limply.

Conrad hung by his feet from the ceiling, blood running all the way down his pale naked body. Several slits had been made to blood him faster, the blood that dripped from him falling into a basin just under him. The room was circular, with not a single window or door to be seen. And right beside the basin, stood Crone.

They met gazes, Mara's clearly letting him know she was willing to kill him as well if he stood in her way, and she had backup to make sure the job was finished. His face was written over with awe, and when he went to take a step forward, she raised the blade in warning, feeling Ocuridad stand in the doorway at her back.

"My queen," she thought she heard him mumble, and he went to one knee in a deep bow. She knew then, she had his loyalty, his bond; she was the last living bloodline from him. Ignoring him, she stepped forward and put her hands on Conrad's bloody cheeks, feeling the warmth still left.

"My love," she whispered, before she too, fainted.