Whew, just managed to squeeze in another update before the end of the year! Unfortunately I haven't quite finished Shades of Destiny yet, but it's down to its last four chapters, so I should definitely have good news on that front the next time I update. In the meantime, here's a new chapter to tide you over.

While the people of District 10 treated their wounded and began to cautiously enjoy their newfound freedom, the mood in the Capitol was far from celebratory. The Senior Partners had sensed their power chipping away as another district broke free of their control, and they were most displeased. Perhaps, they railed at Snow, they should have chosen someone else to be their representative on the mortal plane, someone whose grasp on power wasn't so weak that it could be broken by an insignificant human girl.

Of course, that accursed vampire was also a problem, one the Partners now wondered if they should have eliminated centuries ago instead of keeping him around for their amusement - no matter how enjoyable torturing him had been - though the girl was clearly the key to his recent success at uniting the districts. Angel had, after all, rebelled against them almost a hundred years ago, and they had crushed him, because this was no longer his world. Unfortunately, he had remained free, had learned from his mistakes, and now had found an invaluable ally in Katniss Everdeen.

The solution, therefore, was clear: the girl had to be removed from the equation. The question, which Snow later posed to his advisors, was how to accomplish this when Angel was sure to protect her with his last unneeded breath? He spent almost fifteen minutes listening to his councilors' suggestions - his favorite by far was the idea of allowing the Order of Taraka, which had been forcibly disbanded in the early days of the new regime after refusing to contract their services exclusively to Wolfram and Hart, to reform and sending them after her - before the newest face at the table spoke up.

"I think you're all looking at this the wrong way." The voice was that of Plutarch Heavensbee, who had recently been promoted to the coveted position of Head Gamemaker following Seneca Crane's unfortunate 'suicide'.

That got Snow's attention. "What do you mean, Mr. Heavensbee?" he asked sharply.

"Everyone's talking about ways of killing the girl, but if she dies a heroic death on the battlefield, fighting for justice and freedom, what does she become then?"

This inquiry was met with blank stares from the humans and demons gathered around the table. In other parts of the Capitol, it might have been difficult to distinguish one from the other due to the citizens' cosmetic extravagances (ridiculous fashion standards were subtly encouraged by the government, since they made it easier for demons who preferred city life to blend in), but those who made it into the upper echelon of the administration were generally expected to be a bit more sensible. Plutarch's question seemed to have them stumped, though.

"A corpse?" one of the human politicians ventured at last.

"Food," grunted one of the demonic ones.

"Maybe," Plutarch agreed with a barely perceptible hint of derision, "but more importantly, she becomes a martyr, and martyrs are far more dangerous dead than they ever were alive."

"Are you suggesting we let her live?" Snow demanded. Part of him - the ever-diminishing part that hadn't yet been tainted by the demonic energy housed within his mind - saw the wisdom in his Head Gamemaker's words, but he knew the Senior Partners wouldn't be satisfied until they had Katniss Everdeen's mangled remains laid out before them like the main course at a banquet.

"Only in the short term," Plutarch assured him.

"And allow her to continue fomenting rebellion throughout Panem?" Snow's voice turned quiet and deadly, and Plutarch was sure he saw a flash of yellow in his eyes.

"No, we should focus our efforts on capturing her, but have her brought in alive and in one piece. Once we have her, we can show the people that their heroine is just as powerless against the Capitol as any other human, that she can be broken...even corrupted. Imagine how it would break the rebels' spirit if we turned their champion into the Capitol's top enforcer. Who knows," he added with a short laugh, "they might even tear her apart with their bare hands, if they aren't too demoralized."

Snow leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with inhumanly malicious glee; corruption, after all, was the Senior Partners' specialty. "I like the way you think, Mr. Heavensbee. Keep it up, and I expect you'll go far here. In a few years, you might even be sitting at the head of this table."

###

After the meeting broke up, Plutarch shook off the other cabinet members who flocked around him to offer their congratulations - and try to curry favor with the man the president was seemingly considering to be his successor - by saying he wanted to take a stroll through the presidential rose garden, which Snow insisted on maintaining as a place of peace and solitude. Whatever else could be said about the man, he truly enjoyed his roses.

Of course, Snow's desire for solitude didn't extend so far that the place was completely free of surveillance, but it was purely of the technological variety, which was why Plutarch chose to retreat there. Ghosts didn't show up on security cameras, so when Wesley materialized at his side, whoever was in charge of monitoring the feeds was none the wiser, especially since this was by now such a familiar occurrence that Plutarch didn't bat an eye at the specter's sudden appearance.

"It worked," he said as casually as if Wesley had just sauntered up the garden path, lowering his head so no one would see his lips moving, though the people behind the cameras would think he was merely smelling the roses. "Snow lifted the kill order on Katniss Everdeen."

"I thought he would," Wesley replied with an air of grim satisfaction. "Our president isn't a complete fool, at least not when his better judgment is allowed to prevail."

"If you were so sure he'd go for it, why didn't you suggest it yourself?"

"Because he doesn't trust me. He relies on me in arcane matters because he knows I can't disobey his direct orders, but he'd suspect something was amiss if I offered my assistance voluntarily." Wesley's lips curled into a mirthless grin at the irony of his situation.

"So instead you had me stick my neck out, and now I've got the Senior Partners' attention." Plutarch turned slightly, and his hand twitched as if to grasp Wesley's arm before he remembered that he wouldn't be able to and stilled it. "You said if I helped you, you could get me out of the Capitol-"

"And I will," Wesley tried to soothe his spooked ally, but the other man refused to be soothed.

"Then you'd better do it soon, because I doubt Snow will last much longer." Plutarch barely repressed a shudder as he recalled the scent of blood that always seemed to linger on the president's breath these days, the faint stains on his teeth from the sores that never really stopped bleeding as his body slowly but surely fell apart... "I don't want to end up like him."

Wesley gave him a long, measuring look; he'd had some initial doubts about the shrewd politician, believing him to be another Lindsey McDonald, hungry for advancement at all costs, but he had apparently decided that his soul (or at least his physical health) was too high a price to pay for power. "Don't worry, Mr. Heavensbee," he said at last, "your removal from the Capitol is already in the works, now that your usefulness here is at an end; with any luck, there won't be another Hunger Games for you to preside over. Your advice to the Senior Partners regarding Miss Everdeen was the last service I'll require of you."

"About that..." Plutarch hesitated before asking, "Why did you have me suggest bringing her here? I understand why you don't want her killed, but if Snow gets his hands on her, she'd probably be better off dead."

"You needn't concern yourself with that. It was necessary to give the Senior Partners some incentive to call off their assassins, but as long as she's under Angel's protection, I highly doubt they'll actually succeed in capturing her. Rest assured that if they somehow manage it, I'll see to it that she escapes their clutches unscathed."

Plutarch still appeared dubious, but Wesley disappeared before he could question him further. He understood the man's doubts; snatching such a valuable prisoner right out from under the Senior Partners' noses would certainly be a risky move, but if it came to that, it was one he would have to pull off if he hoped to achieve some small measure of atonement for the atrocities he'd been forced to commit during his compulsory servitude to Wolfram and Hart. He just hoped, as he reflected on the damage his actions had caused, that it would be enough to earn Angel's forgiveness if they ever met again.

###

Despite the Capitol's best efforts to suppress it, word of the latest revolt spread quickly; the people, who were already missing the fruits and vegetables they normally received from Eleven, could hardly fail to notice when the shipments of meat from Ten suddenly stopped coming as well, and almost none of them believed the Capitol's press releases, which insisted that a rare fungus was to blame for wiping out the crops and causing a mass animal starvation. After all, the grain livestock fed on was grown in District 9, yet there was no hint that the alleged fungus had reached them.

As the only major food-producing district still under the Capitol's control, Nine was more closely guarded than ever, which presented a problem for the rebels: as things currently stood, they simply didn't have the manpower to attack such a heavily fortified target. This led to some disagreement over what they should do instead, but in the end, the choice was made for them when District Eight staged its own uprising and successfully seized control from the Peacekeepers, though not without suffering several casualties in the process.

Naturally, Angel insisted on visiting the newly freed district, to offer medical assistance and set up defenses to prevent Wolfram and Hart from swooping in and reclaiming their lost territory. He took Katniss with him to boost morale and smooth Eight's absorption into the rebel coalition, along with Peeta and Gale, a handful of witches and warlocks, and a team of field medics (Prim's request to join them was denied, though he did give her permission to accompany Mrs. Everdeen to Eleven, where she was identifying critical improvements that needed to be made to the district's hospital).

Illyria and Coin were left in Ten, ostensibly to continue solidifying the rebels' hold on the area and to begin training those who were willing and able to join the fight, though in truth it was also because Angel wanted a break from dealing with the witch but didn't like the idea of leaving her in charge of an entire district with no oversight. Illyria grumbled about being separated from him, but eventually accepted his reasoning that, now that the rebels controlled three districts, their command needed to spread out and establish their presence everywhere if they were to have any hope of turning the people of Panem into an army capable of overthrowing Wolfram and Hart.

"Besides," she added once she finally decided to stop arguing with him, "the Wolf, Ram, and Hart's forces have already been ousted from that area, so it's unlikely that I would find a sufficiently stimulating battle there, though I would still advise you to exercise caution. I shall be most displeased if you die."

"Me too."

When he reached District 8, however, his first impression was that she didn't have much to worry about, since the most dangerous thing there seemed to be the smoke that still lingered in the air from when the city's largest textile mill went up in flames during the initial coup. The hospital was filled with badly burned people as a result, as well as those who were injured in the fight.

While the medical team rolled up their sleeves and got to work, Peeta distributed cookies to the children, and Katniss, Angel, and Gale met with Eight's newly appointed leader, Paylor. The woman was clearly exhausted and saddened by the high price her district had paid for their freedom, yet unwavering in her conviction that rebelling against the Capitol was the right thing to do.

"And what about the Peacekeepers?" Gale wanted to know. "What happened to them after you took over?"

"Most died in the fire; we set it to lure them in, then trapped them inside. It was the only way - trying to fight them all would've gotten us slaughtered. Some escaped; I don't know where they are now. Those that were captured alive..." She hesitated before saying, "You have to understand that life's never been easy here, and we're all used to that, but after the Games it became like a prison. No one was allowed to leave their home except for work, and conditions in the mills were worse than ever. After the air conditioning went out, it got so hot that workers were dropping like flies, but even then we weren't allowed to stop. The people were angry."

Then she fell silent; the scene in front of them needed no further explanation. She had led them to the street where the burned-out mill was located, and all along it white-uniformed bodies hung from the poles supporting the chain link fence that surrounded the factories, their faces blackened and bloated.

Katniss quickly turned away, gagging at the stench of burnt and rotting flesh. Gale also looked disgusted, though there was a glimmer of dark satisfaction in his eyes as he surveyed the row of corpses twisting in the breeze. Angel showed no reaction at all, having become inured to the sight and smell of carnage over the long, bloody centuries; instead, he kept his attention on Paylor. She made no apology for what her people had done, yet it was clear that she took no pleasure in it either.

"You did well, pulling this off when you were so badly outgunned, and everyone I've spoken to here obviously looks up to you. How would you like to keep leading them the rest of the way?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't like it one bit, but I'm willing to do my part."

Angel held out his hand, which received a firm shake from his newest ally. "Welcome to the resistance, Commander Paylor."

###

Katniss stuck close to Angel during lunch (which, thanks to contributions from Eleven and Ten, was the best meal anyone in Eight had eaten in some time), helping to explain why he didn't partake in the food - luckily, the newly minted Commander Paylor possessed a strong constitution, although she couldn't completely suppress her grimace when she heard exactly what was in Angel's flask - then, once the meal was finished, she slipped away with Peeta and Gale. Despite her recent experiences in the other districts, it still made her uncomfortable when people treated her like she was someone special, like they expected her to be their savior, and she just wanted to escape their admiring gazes for a little while. Angel saw them leaving from where he was supervising the dismantling of Wolfram and Hart's wards and called out a warning against wandering too far, but she pretended not to hear him.

"What I want to know," Gale said after a few minutes' discussion of the morning's events, "is how you managed to make cookies. I thought the ingredients for fancy stuff like that came from One."

"The really good stuff like chocolate, refined sugar and flour, and special confectionaries does," Peeta agreed. "The ones I handed out today were mostly made of oatmeal, molasses, nuts, and raisins. They came out pretty gooey, but I thought the kids might like them anyway."

"I think it's great that you made them," Katniss told him. "I wish I could've done something like that, or brought some game or something. These people decided to fight on their own, without waiting for anyone to tell them what to do or help them out, and I just wish I had something real to give them."

"You gave them hope, and the courage to do what they did - that's a lot better than some half-baked cookies." When she continued to look despondent, Peeta turned to Gale with an expression of mingled incredulity and exasperation. "She really has no idea how extraordinary she is, does she?"

Gale never got a chance to answer. In their search for the peace and quiet Katniss craved, the three of them had inadvertently drifted back toward the factory's smoldering ruins, and were suddenly brought up short by the lingering odors of smoke and death - and something else that was much harder to identify, an eerie feeling that something was very, very wrong.

Katniss was the first to put her finger on the source of their disquiet. "The bodies," she whispered, her voice muted by fear. "When Gale and I came here with Angel and Paylor just an hour or two ago, this whole street was filled with the bodies of Peacekeepers they executed. Where did they go?"

Her question was answered in horrific fashion when a dead hand shot out of the rubble and seized her ankle, yanking her off her feet. She automatically kicked out with her free foot, forcing the corpse to loosen its grip while the boys grabbed her arms and pulled her away. Their relief was short-lived, however, as a quick look around showed two dozen reanimated Peacekeepers converging on them from all directions, the nooses still hanging around their necks; in the background, they could see even more bodies, those of Peacekeepers and citizens who had perished in the fire that no one had been able to retrieve yet, digging themselves out of the ashes.

"How is this happening? Who's doing this?!" Because Katniss was certain some witch or warlock had to be behind it - even in a world populated by demons and filled with magic, dead bodies did not simply get up and attack people of their own accord.

"Probably that guy over there!" Gale pointed to the far end of the street, where they saw an emaciated man with skin so gray that he almost resembled a corpse himself. The only part of him that truly seemed alive were his eerily pale blue eyes, which glittered evilly as he raised his hands, urging the dead onward. "If we take him out, maybe they'll die again!"

"There's too many of them! We need to get out of here," Peeta argued, "go back to Angel and the others..."

But it soon became obvious that escape wasn't an option; no sooner had they turned to flee than they found their path blocked by a solid wall of zombies. They tried to fight back as the undead pressed in on them, but it was useless - their fists and blades went through the degraded flesh easily enough, but the wounds they inflicted didn't bleed, and their assailants felt no pain. On top of that, the sheer weight of their numbers was overwhelming, and their stench alone was a potent weapon that brought tears to one's eyes and threatened to choke the human trio, leaving them with no choice but to retreat in the only direction left open to them, as the zombies herded them slowly yet inexorably toward the necromancer.

To make matters worse, an assortment of demons had joined him, and seemed to be congratulating him on setting such a brilliant trap.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" the gray man agreed with a smug grin, which was a ghastly thing to behold as it put his crooked yellow teeth on display. "When our masters see that I have delivered their prize, I shall receive eternal glory...and we might as well take him too," he added, gesturing at Peeta. "He played his part in helping the girl spark this foolish uprising, but we have no need of the third. Kill him."

A large demon with boar-like tusks protruding from either side of his mouth eagerly stepped forward and gripped Gale's chin in its meaty paw, clearly preparing to snap his neck...until a crossbow bolt came whistling through the air and lodged itself between its eyes.

Alerted that something was amiss when the intensified odor produced by the zombies' stirrings wafted into his sensitive nose, Angel had cut through the ruined factory from the other side, thus bypassing the undead horde blocking the street, and climbed atop a soot-blackened section of wall just in time to make the shot. As Wolfram and Hart's agents turned toward him, their inhuman faces registering dismay and fear when they saw who the newcomer was - it had been an unbelievable stroke of luck when Katniss strayed out of her protector's sight, but now that he had arrived on the scene, they knew their chances of success, or even survival, had just decreased dramatically - he leapt off the wall, angling his descent so that he landed on top of the necromancer and driving a dagger deep into his left eye socket before he could even attempt to defend himself. "Eternal glory isn't all it's cracked up to be."

As the necromancer died, the zombies under his command fell to the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut, clearing the way for reinforcements - or at least making it easier for them to get where they were needed. Unfortunately, the people desperately trying to reach Angel and the three teens still had to wade through the mass of inert corpses, while those who chose to follow Angel's shortcut, not being as agile as him, had to move more carefully through the wreckage. They would get there within minutes, but Angel soon realized he might not have that long; seeing that the tide had turned against them, the hit squad had summoned a hovercraft to make good their escape, and they seemed hell-bent on taking Katniss and Peeta with them.

Snarling, he launched himself at the demon that had thrown Katniss over its shoulder, easily ignoring her flailing kicks and clawing fingernails thanks to its tough, leathery hide; the short sword Angel shoved into its throat, however, definitely got its attention.

As her captor's body crashed to the ground like a felled tree, she twisted away, landing neatly on her feet, then whirled around to take stock of the situation; Gale was free, but her other friend was still in the enemies' clutches. "Peeta!"

Two more huge creatures with an ungodly number of teeth popped up to stop her and Angel from reaching him, but Gale's expertly thrown hatchet prevented the slightly smaller one from grabbing her, while Angel effortlessly dispatched his own attacker. Unfortunately, one of the group's remaining members possessed skills of a more magical nature and, having missed the memo that Katniss wasn't to be killed (or simply deciding it was worth disobeying that directive in order to take out Angel), hurled a fireball at them.

The flaming sphere expanded as it tumbled through the air, drawing in oxygen until it resembled a miniature sun, and for a heart-stopping second it looked as though Katniss' moniker, the Girl On Fire, might become all too literal...until Angel tackled her to the ground, covering her body protectively with his. She felt a wave of blistering heat and heard his grunt of pain as it passed over them, singeing the skin from his back, just before he passed out. Then the fireball was gone, extinguished by a warlock from Thirteen.

Pinned beneath the unconscious vampire's weight, she could do nothing but watch as a hatch opened in the hovercraft's underside and cables were lowered to pull up the waiting demons, including the one that still held Peeta in its four-armed grasp. "No! Peeta!"

He seemed to hear her, because he stopped struggling and looked in her direction. Their eyes met one last time...and then he was drawn up into the belly of the hovercraft, the hatch slid shut, and the craft flew off at top speed, outmaneuvering all attempts to shoot it down. Soon it was just a distant speck in the sky; then it was gone, and so was Peeta.

Well, I hope that was okay; I'm not sure I'm completely satisfied with the way the ending came out, but after sitting on it and making minor tweaks for a few days, I finally decided that this was as good as it's going to get.

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it, a very happy holiday season to those who don't, and I'll see you all in the next decade.