Gently putting his finger on a blood smear, Dauntless channeled his magic into the enchantment on his glove.

'Female, not human,' the spell told him.

Sighing, he stood up, using an alcohol wipe to clean his hands. Around him lay the remains of the most complex ritual he had ever seen. He'd have liked the chance to speak to one of its creators, but he doubted that would happen.

There was room in the spell for three people. One was dead on the floor, and the other two were missing.

It had been more than an hour since the call went out and a glowing red dome had appeared over Winslow High, trapping the students inside. He'd barely reached the school when the ward had shattered and something had shot into the sky. It had vanished too quickly for him to follow, though at the time he'd been more preoccupied with the students.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to force the anger down, or at the very least stop the trembling in his hands. The students, twisted and deformed, driven mad by the magic they had been exposed to, had descended on anyone nearby.

Thankfully, they were quickly contained by the police and Protectorate, but he wasn't sure they would ever be the same again. Even if the Protectorate could undo the changes to their bodies, the things they had seen or done would live with them for the rest of their lives.

Dauntless was so caught up in his thoughts that he never even noticed Armsmaster entering the room.

"Can I trust you to keep your composure?"

"I'll be fine," Dauntless snapped before he could catch himself. "Sorry, that was… it's just this whole situation makes me sick. Whoever did this, they were planning on sacrificing an entire school! All those kids…"

"You're right, it's disgusting" — stepping forward, Armsmaster placed a firm hand on Dauntless' shoulder — "but we can't help anyone if we let our anger cloud our judgement."

The moment of comradery lasted only a second, with Armsmaster quickly withdrawing his hand and stepping away.

"Is that why Miss Militia isn't here?" Dauntless couldn't resist asking. She was the only one more protective of kids than he was.

"No." Sighing, Armsmaster pressed a hand against his forehead. "She knows how to control herself, but I needed her and Battery to talk to the parents. People respond well to them, especially when stressed."

"Ain't that the truth," Dauntless muttered. Armsmaster was a good hero and Dauntless could respect the effort he put into being a hero, but the man had a bad case of 'foot in mouth'. Armsmaster likely hadn't even noticed the implied insult he'd just thrown at Dauntless.

Choosing to ignore it, Dauntless nodded towards the corpse that was still face down on the ground. She had a fist-sized hole in her chest, golden fire still burning gently on the edges of the wound.

"Do we have an ID on her?"

"Yes, Principal Elizabeth Blackwell. No living family, but there is an ex-husband in New York."

Humming to himself, Dauntless walked in a slow circle around the brass tub in the middle of the room. "I'm guessing she had a kid that died?"

"He died in a school shooting with ten other students. How did you know?"

Dauntless waved an arm at the runes around them. "Because this is a resurrection spell, or at least an attempt at one, and you don't go to this length on a whim. This was clearly personal."

"Are you able to identify her goal?" Armsmaster sounded genuinely impressed — which Dauntless found insulting, but he chose not to comment.

"Yeah, it's not too hard to figure out. We're standing in what is, effectively, a super-powered healing spell. The runes on the walls were supposed to contain the power, the ones on the ceiling and floor channelled it and the far wall was supposed to be the doorway that would allow the soul to return."

That was always the sticking point with resurrections. Animating a corpse? That was easy, especially if you didn't mind it continuing to rot. Making a physical copy of someone was only slightly harder, though it took a lot of effort to make it more than superficial.

The real problem was the soul. Without it, the best you had was a meat puppet, a walking corpse with no memories or emotions that could only act like a living thing.

"Given the tub is empty, it's a good bet they brought something to life. If we're lucky, it was only a minor spirit."

Leaning against the tub, Armsmaster stared at the fluid that still remained inside. It was a mix of blood, bone and muscle.

"These don't match human remains," he said as he carefully lifted one of the bones out of the tub. "Pig, maybe?"

"Yeah, they were probably using them as raw materials for a new body, rather than building it entirely from magic. Takes less effort that way."

"What's our worst-case scenario?"

Dauntless snorted. "An angel appears in the middle of Brockton Bay, brainwashes the city and starts a new holy crusade. We can probably rule that one out, as it would have already started in that case."

Powerful entities didn't have to bother with subtlety. No, it was more likely something minor got loose; they had seen something escaping, after all. It was still dangerous, of course, but he was confident they could handle it. He'd contact some of the city's magic users later, put the word out and see if anything came up.

'That said...' "We should try and keep the details quiet. If Haven, or some other group of overly religious nut-jobs, think there's a 'holy spirit' running around, nothing will keep them away."

Licking his lips, Armsmaster shivered. "Yes… that would be… bad. I'll advise the Director."

In theory, Haven were good guys and had been affiliated with the Protectorate for years. In practice, there was a reason the PRT tried to keep them in the south and pointed at demon-worshipping groups like the Fallen.

Further discussion was cut off as Triumph returned, an electronic tablet in his hands. It didn't say good things about the state of Brockton Bay that he barely even glanced at the corpse on the floor.

"I've finished checking the nearby businesses. A couple of them had external cameras that they let us check, and I thought you'd want to see this." Holding out the tablet, Triumph bounced slightly on his heels.

"Thank you, that was good thinking." Sure, they would have eventually sent PRT investigators to do that same thing, but it never hurt to show a little initiative.

Glancing at Armsmaster, Dauntless realised his attention had wandered, and he was now carefully examining the runes on the floor and ceiling. Rolling his eyes, Dauntless discreetly kicked the man's foot.

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, of course, well done," Armsmaster grunted.

Sharing a long-suffering smile with Triumph, Dauntless tapped the screen and was greeted with an image of two girls moving down the street.

One looked like a shadow brought to life and was clearly helping the other to walk. It was hard to make out any details, since the camera quality was poor and at a bad angle, but the black wings and tail were unmistakable.

"Are those the two who attacked you?"

"Yeah…" At least, he assumed so. Succubi were shapeshifters, after all.

"It seems you were right to be concerned. If they are involved, we need to take precautions against them. If you can supply me with the..."

Tuning Armsmaster out, Dauntless stared at the picture. Something about it was wrong. Why was one of them being carried? Were they injured?

Putting two fingers to the tablet, he tried to zoom in, only to hesitate. His fingers, the blood… his eyes widened as he made the connection.

"She tried to sacrifice them!"

"What?" Triumph and Armsmaster said, almost in unison.

"Blackwell tried to sacrifice the succubi as part of her spell!" Spinning around, he walked quickly across the room. There were three circles in the spell that formed a triangle with the tub at its tip.

He'd assumed that there had been three people working together on the spell, but why would succubi want anything to do with a spell that tapped into the divine realms?

Ignoring the first circle, as it was closest to the tub, he moved instead to the one nearest to the bloodstain. Kneeling, he ran a finger around the circle, tracing each rune by one by one until he found what he was looking for.

"I don't know why those succubi were here, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't by choice," he said as the others caught up.

Titling his head, a small light blinked on the side of Armsmaster's helmet, like a sensor or something that was recording what he was seeing. "What makes you say that?"

"Those two circles," getting up, Dauntless moved to the other circle, quickly finding the same runes. "They have containment runes on them to keep whatever was inside from getting out… What's more, the spell was set up to forcibly pull energy from them and feed it into the ritual. Those wouldn't have been needed if they were willing participants!"

"So… what does that mean?" Triumphs said, looking quickly between the older men.

"It means, Blackwell likely wasn't the one who summoned them and she probably wasn't working with whoever did. If she was, she wouldn't have needed to cage them."

"That makes these succubi key witnesses," Armsmaster said thoughtfully.

"I — what?" Dauntless hesitated. He'd been so caught up with his findings that he hadn't stopped to think what it would mean. "Armsmaster, you can't be serious? I mean, they're demons, they can't testify, we can't even prove they are telling the truth!"

"So you say, but we have yet to find solid evidence of them committing a single crime."

"Solid… they were here! I first found them at the scene of a murder and they attacked me!"

"After you threatened them," Armsmaster said firmly. "I reviewed your bodycam footage, in case you forgot, and for all your insistence about the danger, I notice they didn't actually hurt you?"

"I — They're demons!" Dauntless hissed.

"Regardless, the Director and I both agree that until solid proof is found, they are to be treated like any other rogue parahuman of interest and we wish to speak to them. If you have a problem with that, please tell me now and I'll make whatever arrangements are necessary."

Snorting, Dauntless scowled at Armsmaster, the effect only slightly ruined by both of them wearing expression-masking helmets.

"No, sir," he said with as much scorn as he could. "I know how to follow orders."

Nodding in satisfaction, Armsmaster turned and walked away, metal boots clanking on the stone floor as he passed through the door and out of sight.

Dauntless glared after him long after he was gone.

"Umm…" Triumph said quietly, the tension apparently being enough to cause her to transform. "Can I ask what happened that day? I mean, I know you said they were demons, but you did attack them first and..." She trailed off into silence.

"I fucked up," Dauntless groaned, rolling his head back so he was looking at the ceiling. "I found them, a pair of demons standing in a room where the floor was covered in blood and they were just, standing there, completely unbothered by it."

It didn't help that they were the first two demons he'd ever actually seen. Sure, there had been curses and the occasional possession, maybe even an imp or two. But real demons were rare and dangerous, his teacher had told him that time and time again.

"They don't think as we do, they don't feel the same. You can't ever trust them to tell the truth, not unless you can compel them. At the end of the day, you're better off just dispelling them!"

The words echoed in his mind. Dr River had been his mentor for more than a decade, and it wasn't like he could simply brush his teachings aside. Then again, did he really have a choice?

"Come on," he said to Triumph with a sigh, "let me show you how to check for a dimensional breach. If nothing else, we can make sure nothing else comes through."

He had his orders; all he could do was follow them and prepare for the worst.

##

In her dark room, Emma sat on her bed, glaring at the screen of her phone. It was past midnight, three minutes past to be exact, and she still hadn't heard from Sophia.

They never went this long without talking, not since... well, not since they met, but Emma refused to think about that.

Tapping her phone, she shot off another message, then immediately dialed Sophia's number. She'd been trying to contact her for hours, ever since she saw the news about Winslow.

Some crazy witch had done... something... to the students, turning them into monsters, and more than twenty were outright dead. No names had been confirmed, and Emma's stomach churned painfully if she let herself think for even a moment that Sophia was one of them.

She hadn't been at school herself; she'd spend the morning at home puking her guts up. The takeaway her dad had brought home last night had turned out to be bad, especially the peppered chicken, and she'd eaten more of it than her parents.

Ending the call, she slammed her phone against the soft duvet as it went to voicemail again. She would have left a message, but she knew Sophia didn't ever check voicemail. Huffing, she considered asking Madison, again, if she'd heard anything, but the last time she'd done that, Madison had shouted at Emma for waking her up.

Apparently, Madison had been at the doctor's, getting her injuries from last week checked over, and anyway, unless Emma was there, Madison refused to deal with Sophia. 'Big pussy,' Emma thought to herself. 'Sophia was harmless. All you had to do was impress her a bit.'

Picking her phone up again, Emma glared at the digital clock. Twelve fifteen.

She was considering giving up and trying — again — to get some sleep when something moved outside her window, and a dark shape passed soundlessly through the glass.

For a moment, Emma smiled at the sight of Sophia's shadow form, but it faded as she realised the shape was all wrong. Too big, too long and too low to the ground, she gasped as the mist reformed into a large six-legged black panther with two whip-like appendages on its back. Its glowing yellow eyes fixed on Emma, and she felt her throat close with terror before she could scream.

The panther lunged forward, landing on the bed and knocking the air from Emma's Lungs. Without thinking, she slapped at the creature, desperately gasping for air. Her efforts were futile, the panther barely noticing her attacks as it put more weight on her chest, turning her attempts at a scream into nothing more than a pitiful whimper.

She closed her eyes as the panther leaned forward, expecting to feel its jaws around her throat at any moment. Instead, it rubbed its muzzle against her cheek, a deep rumble coming from its chest.

Opening her eyes, Emma could only watch with bewilderment as the panther began to change.

Its body shrank rapidly. The front set of paws became hands that moved to pin Emma's arms above her head, while the second sat on her hips. Its skin rippled as the skeleton beneath it took on a human form.

The last to change was the muzzle. Pulling back, the skull reshaped, even as the glowing yellow eyes remained, and Emma found herself staring at a familiar face.

"S-sophia?" Emma gasped, her mouth hanging open in shock, and she tried to focus on anything but her naked friend. She'd had dreams like this in the past, but now really wasn't the time for them to come true.

"Hey," Sophia purred, rolling her hips as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against Emma's neck, lightly peppering it with kisses.

"Y-you're okay?" Emma squeaked, her face flushing as Sophia's new set of arms started playing with the buttons on her pajama top.

"Oh, I'm better than okay," Sophia muttered, rolling her hips and pressing her damp sex against Emma's stomach. "I haven't felt this good in ages."

"But, the school, w-what happened?" She gasped as a button popped free of her top and one of Sophia's hands found its way inside.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she growled, the tentacles on her back twitching in irritation and her nails digging into Emma's breast just hard enough to make her hiss.

Leaning back, she smiled down at Emma. "What do you think of the new me?"

Emma stared up at Sophia. It was still clearly her, but different. Her muscles were more prominent, and her skin was covered in a layer of short fur. A pair of cat-like ears emerged from the hair on her head, and Emma could see a tail waving behind her.

With her yellow eyes and sharp teeth, it made her look dangerous, feral even, and it only served to turn Emma on more.

"I — I love it," Emma said, gasping as Sophia gripped the front of her top and pulled.

Buttons went flying as her pajama top was torn apart. She squirmed, pushing her hips forwards as Sophia slid down her body, trapping her legs with her muscular thighs.

Whining pitifully, Emma desperately wanted to run her hands across Sophia's body, but Sophia mercilessly kept her hands pinned above her head as she ran her tongue across the tops of Emma's breasts.

Emma gasped. Sophia's tongue was coarse like a cat's, and the mix of pleasure and pain was almost too much. Almost, but not quite.

Sophia paused, her eyes shining with delight, before she continued. She moved down the breast, stopping occasionally to nip and suck roughly at Emma's pale flesh, red marks trailing in her wake.

Pulling a nipple into her mouth, Sophia worried it between her teeth before biting down with just enough force to make Emma moan.

"Sophia, please! My parents!" Emma kicked her legs uselessly, rolling her hips in an effort to press their bodies together and lessen the need that was filling her sex.

"So what?" Sophia muttered, lifting her hips. "Let them hear."

Emma gasped as Sophia slid down her body, trailing nips and kisses as she did so and finally releasing Emma's hands.

Emma wasted no time, running her hands over Sophia's head and tugging on her hair as Sophia's upper arms grabbed Emma's hips hard enough to bruise and her lower arms grabbed the hem of her pajama bottoms.

"No!" Emma hissed, realising too late what was coming. Headless, Sophia pulled, ripping her pants open and exposing her soaked underwear that she seized with her teeth.

Grabbing Sophia's hair, Emma tried to pull her away, ignoring how Sophia growled and what that sound was doing to her.

"Please, no, it's too much!" she gasped and, to her relief, Sophia hesitated.

She pulled the confused Sophia into her chest with trembling arms, "Your tongue, it's too rough. It'll hurt..."

"Okay," Sophia said, a soft smile on her face, "what about this?"

Before Emma could question, Sophia rolled her hips, and Emma felt something against her lower lips. Gasping, she looked between their bodies to see Sophia's tail pressing against her sex.

"Do it!" Emma pulled Sophia into a searing kiss to muffle her moans as it slowly pressed its way inside, filling her up.

"That's it, no more!" she hissed. Sophia ignored her, pushing just a little bit further and taking her just to the edge of pain before stopping.

Holding on to Emma's hips with one set of hands, she worked her own sex with a a free hand and used her tentacles to support her weight as she started to move her tail. Rolling her hips, she pulled back then thrust forward, each one harder than the last until Emma was gripping the sheets in an effort to hold herself still.

She could feel the orgasm coming and tried desperately to hold it back, to keep going longer, but it was futile. Letting go of the sheets, she wrapped her legs around Sophia's hips and pulled their bodies tight together, her nails raking across Sophia's back as the world went white.

She heard Sophia growl as she rode out her own orgasm, biting down on Emma's shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

As her trembling limbs went slack, Emma sank into the sheets, heedless of the mess or the aches and pains that were already making themselves known.

Sophia lowered herself across Emma's body, her warm breath brushing across her breasts. Forcing her arm to move, Emma started to gently run her fingers through Sophia's hair.

The dark-skinned girl tensed for a moment, then gradually relaxed, a deep rumbling in her chest.

"Wait until Madison finds out you purr," Emma said with a sleepy giggle.

"You tell her," Sophia snorted, "and we are never doing this again."

"Spoilsport." With a theatrical sigh, she shook her head. "Fine, I won't tell."

Emma knew there would be problems in the morning. Sophia's new appearance wasn't exactly something they could hide, but they would deal with that later. Right now, she just wanted to bask in this new and welcome change to their relationship, and yet, when she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

Maybe a tall slim girl with dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in leather as she looked down at them?

Smiling at the image, Emma drifted off to sleep.


AN: chapter written under commission for Koalakiller on .

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