So sorry for the hiatus, life got in the way and I had zero time to write or post. You can expect longer chapters from now on as things heating up in the story.

Thank you to my beta thejollyroger-writer for being patient and correcting my mistakes!

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10: All Hell Will Break Loose

When it finally came, her sleep was fitful. She tossed and turned in her bed for hours while Killian invaded her mind, his face floating before her mind's eyes. Even now, she could hardly believe they had almost kissed. She really liked Killian, she couldn't deny it anymore, but as soon as she was alone again, guilt reached for her heart and tugged at it hard.

It didn't feel right, even if Neal was dead. She needed closure on that part of her life before she could start anything with Killian. But what if she could only do that with his help? She knew now that Killian wanted more… or was that just the heat of the moment?

Finally, her overthinking brain slowly allowed the long-awaited, peaceful dream to sweep her away, though it didn't last long. It felt like only minutes had passed since she closed her eyes when Ruby burst through her door unannounced.

She seriously wondered if any of the Hunters knew how to knock, or if they were just immensely lazy.

"Good morning." She looked unusually grim as she marched straight to her bed.

"Hi…" Emma stared at her suspiciously as she changed direction and plopped down on one of the armchairs. "Is there something wrong?"

"These sicko beasts are choosing their leader today. If they really elect one tonight, all hell will break loose. Everything that's happened so far will look like a ridiculous cat fight compared to what's sure to come."

Emma didn't know what to say to that, Ruby was obviously right and they had no choice but to fight. She knew there was not much she could do, she was not much help in a fight and even less in politics.

She climbed out of bed to get dressed in something more appropriate for the day instead of wearing a rumpled Guns 'N Roses t-shirt and a pair of shorts. "I'm guessing that's not the only reason you disturbed my sleep," she said a little grudgingly as she opened her closet door.

"No, not really," Ruby sighed reluctantly. "You won't miss this party, either. The Council has given you and Mary Margaret a task."

"What?" She turned around in astonishment, holding a white sweater.

Her? And Mary Margaret? A task? No, something wasn't right.

"Don't worry, it's just a shopping trip. Guns, ammo, food, you get the idea. We need to get ready and restock the warehouse," Ruby nodded.

"Hmm."

Emma still found it weird, but she didn't want to start an argument, because somewhere deep down she was glad to finally be useful. In the meantime, she chose — for a change — a pair of black jeans and her favorite red leather jacket. She trudged into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, put on some light makeup and stepped back into her room exactly six minutes later, ready for the day.

"There's one thing I don't get. We aren't going to fight in secret again in this war, just like we couldn't suppress the uprisings without being noticed. We made the peace treaty with the humans and the Vampire Court back then. Humans now have a duty to help us. I'm not good at politics, but…"

"You really aren't," Ruby laughed bitterly, gesturing with her head towards the door. It was time to go.

The brunette closed the door behind them and hurried to the end of the hall with Emma behind her.

"An army of humans do what the government tells them to do, and the government is cowardly and an easy target for intimidation. I wouldn't be surprised if they make the wrong decision when faced with a threat. For now, they're neither with nor against us. If the Vampires decide they don't need them, they could destroy the human race in a day or two. They're helpless, still unprepared for us, and therefore they're vulnerable. Personally, I'm much more worried about what the Forest Elves and Dwarves decide to do."

At the end of the corridor, they turned right. "We're going to eat something, then Mary Margaret and you get the truck, the papers with the addresses of the shops and the powers of attorney, contracts, and so on. Then you can go and get back before dark."

"Sure…" Emma shrugged, and could only think of one good thing about all of this; she could finally spend a day with her best friend. David clung to her like a leech, and she hadn't had a chance to talk to her face to face for days.

She couldn't really find her way around in the Guild's hideout yet, having only visited two of the eight levels. She only knew from eavesdropping on David and the others that the Council was on the lowest level, and its members almost never came upstairs. Or sometimes they visited the torture chamber, which was somewhere on the surface, but she had no idea where exactly. Honestly, she wasn't really interested.

Her room was on the second level, and the stadium-sized dining hall was on the first. From the inside, the whole place gave the impression of an old tenant house. There was no unnecessary kitsch, just worn linoleum, bare light bulbs, and grayish walls. But the suites were tastefully furnished with expensive furniture.

The dining area was already full; there might have been as many as five hundred people in the room and at the breakfast buffet. The whole place looked like a tangled hive.

"Jesus. Is this place always this busy?" She leaned closer to Ruby's ear so she could hear her in the cacophony of noise.

"Yeah, usually it is," she nodded, glancing over at her fellow Hunters who were trying to finish eating as quickly as possible, digging intrusively through the food. Most of them carried pistols at their sides, some had rifles hanging on their backs, and they were all ready for "work".

Emma fought her way through the crowd to one of the food carts in Ruby's company. She got herself a tray and just tossed a few things she could get her hands on.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret stepped up beside her with a faint smile on her face.

She breathed in relief when she saw her. "Hey."

"Have you heard what's on the agenda for today?" Mary Margaret asked after saying goodbye to Ruby and the two of them went in search of a free table.

"Yeah." Emma nodded cautiously. "Don't you think it's weird? I mean, that they entrusted us with this task."

"No, I think it makes perfect sense. Now we need all the hunters on the streets and we have nothing else to do," Mary Margaret replied, and Emma realized she was right.

"God! There's not even a single seat, let alone a table!" her best friend growled, looking around the room impatiently again.

Emma, too, turned her head around to find a place to sit and eat, until finally her eyes landed on Killian. She immediately felt heat rise in her cheeks, as well as the long-forgotten flutter in her stomach. He hadn't noticed them, sitting at a table of four all by himself. She was torn for a few seconds, but then made up her mind and drew Mary Margaret's attention to him. "Look, there's Killian. Should we join him?"

"Huh?" Mary Margaret brightened briefly until she registered Emma's words fully in her mind and saw Killian herself. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low.

"Yes, of course!" Emma quipped without hesitation.

Mary Margaret shrugged, and then the two of them walked towards Killian.

"Hey, can we sit down?"

Killian looked up in surprise. He looked first at Emma, then at Mary Margaret, and nodded slowly. Emma almost had to laugh at his astonished expression.

"Aye... Good morning, ladies," he greeted hurriedly, pulling his Beretta to the side so Mary Margaret's tray could find its place on the table.

Emma could see that her friend was avoiding Killian's gaze, and Emma was sure that David and the others had poisoned her mind about him as well.

"What are you doing up so early?" Killian watched her curiously, and Emma glanced at him He highlighted his bright blue eyes with black eyeliner again today, and Emma still couldn't decide if she preferred him with or without it. He looked great either way. But sometimes it was good to see his face without any "masks" on it.

"We have a little errand to run. Just a shopping trip, though," Emma said with a shrug as she set about making a sandwich. She tried hard to act as if nothing had happened last night, but she could feel her hands shaking more and more, along with her racing heart.

"Who will be your bodyguards?" His gaze wandered back and forth between her and Mary Margaret, completely forgetting his plate and its contents.

He looked quite anxious, and that surprised Emma — not that he was uneasy, but the fact that she could see it on his face.

"No one." She shook her head. "Should we have someone?"

"Someone who?" Robin plopped down next to them without ceremony, his familiar confident smile on his face.

"Killian says we should have bodyguards for today's trip. Come to think of it, it wouldn't really hurt…"

"It will be fine," Robin waved it off. "Nothing's going to happen today. They're busy now, I don't think they'll be chasing down a truck…"

Killian raised an eyebrow, his gaze almost glowing with distaste. "What I wouldn't give for you to be right. Where do you need to go?" He turned to Emma, apparently the only one at the table willing to talk to him.

Mary Margaret poked nervously at her scrambled eggs.

"I don't know yet, but we'll get the addresses soon…"

"A lot of stores are near the old amusement park," Mary Margaret interjected. "I got the papers from Mr. Gold half an hour ago, so we can pick up the goods."

"Who's Mr. Gold?"

"A member of the Council," Robin replied with a shrug. He's like a fossil. An eight-hundred-year-old pureblood Elf."

Emma looked from Mary Margaret to Killian to gauge his reaction. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the answer, but he didn't comment on it. A tense silence descended over the table.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Emma turned to Mary Margaret. "We should go back to my room when we're done eating. I left my knife there."

"Okay…"

"Take care of yourselves, ladies. I have to go now," Killian informed them, standing.

He put the Beretta in a holster attached to his shoulder, then made his way to the exit.

"I'm sure August and David are right about him," Robin slammed his palm on the table when he thought Killian was out of earshot.

But Emma could see Killian turn his head, eyes flashing at Robin for a moment.

"Robin, I don't know…" Mary Margaret shook her head. "He's a strange guy, but he still behaves completely normal. Something that cannot be said for you. Maybe we should just get to know him better."

"What did August and David say?" Emma immediately jumped on the subject. If she found out they were turning the others against Killian, she'd tear them a new one. Maybe she'd even fire a few bullets in August's ass, since he'd be fine half an hour later anyway.

"They think Killian's a damn mole. And I agree with them," Robin spat out, the intense hatred in his voice almost boiling over.

She tightened her jaw at the accusation. It was true that just a few days ago she had held a gun to his forehead with the exact same assumption, but a lot had cleared up since then.

"He's a two-faced traitor! He knows a suspicious amount about the Vampire Court-"

"You don't know shit about him!" Emma snarled, not caring about the dozens of heads that turned to their table.

Mary Margaret's eyes shot back and forth between her friend and Robin, as if she were watching a tennis match.

"What, because you know him so well?" Robin laughed, his tone mocking.

"Yes! I have good reason to trust him," Emma replied.

Robin only let out a chuckle."Oh, I see. You two have been fucking, haven't you? Emma could barely recognize Robin in front of her. He loved to taunt and tease others, it was probably his favorite pastime, but after the death of Leo he seemed to have done a complete 180 and Emma really didn't like it. She understood that it was getting to him, but his bitterness had landed on her and Killian.

"You're an asshole!"

She was unable to sit there and listen to any more of his bullshit. She grabbed her half-finished sandwich and simply stormed off.

Mary Margaret left him there, too, and when she caught up with Emma, she took her arm and turned her the other way.

"Your room is over there," she informed her quietly.

Emma didn't answer, just nodded and let herself be guided, still cursing herself. They left the uninhabited corridors behind them, but Mary Margaret didn't let go of her arm until they were finally in her room.

"Emma, why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she asked back innocently as she threw everything she needed for the day into a bag.

"About Killian and this… thing!" Mary Margaret leaned against the door frame, watching her every move expectantly, but Emma's focus was no longer set on her friend.

She stared dumbfounded at the gun lying on the floor of her closet. She had completely forgotten about her Glock, probably picked up by someone who had found it in the clearing. But now a Beretta lay next to her silver knife, accompanied by three magazines.

"What did you find?" Mary Margaret stepped up beside her curiously, her moss green eyes widening at the sight of the pistol.

"Isn't that Killian's? I could have sworn I saw it on him this morning."

"Yeah, me too." Emma bent down and picked up the gun. Judging by the weight, it had to be fully loaded.

"Where's your old one?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I have no idea." She shook her head. "But how did he know I'd find this?" She looked around the room in confusion, but everything seemed untouched. She shrugged and straightened up. "But he can't lend me this, it's…"

"Stupid expensive," Mary Margaret nodded, finishing her sentence.

"Yeah…"

"I think you should just take it with you. We probably won't need it today anyway, and then you can just give it back to him."

Emma nodded and tucked the gun into the back of her jeans.

"Maybe they wrote down the license plate number somewhere…" Emma suggested hopefully, while Mary Margaret bemusedly observed the vehicles parked in the clearing.

"No. I've already looked over the papers, but nowhere does it say which one—"

"Dark blue truck over there."

Killian, appearing out of nowhere, interrupted their pathetic search for their car.

"How do you know?" Mary Margaret looked at him suspiciously.

"I inquired about it when I saw you two were completely lost," Killian replied, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Can I talk to you, love?" He turned to Emma as Mary Margaret walked tactfully towards the car.

"Killian, you can't lend me this, it's…" Emma stammered quickly before he could say a word, looking down toward the pistol in her hand.

"I didn't lend it to you, Swan. It's yours now." He seemed deadly serious, and Emma was completely perplexed. Was he really giving this to her?

"Are you insane? That thing costs over seven hundred dollars!" She still hadn't recovered from her shock.

"I don't care about that. I want you to have a proper gun. I know you lost your Glock, and that was because of me. It's the least I can do."

"But…" she wanted to argue with him, she hated accepting gifts, especially when they were so valuable. "You need a weapon too!"

It was a pathetic attempt, but she couldn't think of a better excuse.

"Swan, aside from this one, I have nineteen more guns." Killian laughed and several people turned to them curiously. She thought it must be strange to see someone laughing now, what with the war and battles hovering over their heads, but weirdly, the sound swept through her body like a calming breeze.

"This one really won't be missed from the arsenal."

"Still. This…"

"Do you know how to use it?" He lowered his voice, but still smiling.

"Sure," she nodded, then dropped her gaze. The grass was still a little frosty, and her breath blew white in front of her face. "Thank you, Killian," she added as she finally picked herself up and looked up at him.

"Think nothing of it. Besides, I'm the one who should be thanking you," he said, fixing his gaze on her. He hesitated for a second, but then seemed to make up his mind, leaning closer to her and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She could only stand frozen, staring up at him. She hadn't expected that, and as she watched him, she was convinced he didn't either.

"Take good care of yourself. Come back safely." He cleared his throat and raised his hand to scratch at a spot behind his ear.

A nervous tic, she gathered.

She still couldn't get a word out, but suddenly she felt quite comfortable in the cold temperature.

"Go on, Swan. You have a lot of work to do." There was no roughness in his voice, and his gaze was gentle.

"Take care of yourself, too," she whispered in reply, then hugged the gun to her chest as if it were a teddy bear and made her way to the truck.

When she climbed in next to Mary Margaret, Killian was nowhere to be seen. She didn't see the black Porsche either.

"I'm still waiting for an explanation. What was that?" Mary Margaret turned on the ignition and the engine roared loudly.

"I don't really know, actually," Emma smiled uncertainly, squeezing the Beretta. "But...I really like him. I don't care what anyone says, he really is a good guy."

"Emma, I know you don't agree with me, but be careful with him. I have a feeling you're not going to tell me what you have learned about his past…"

"MM, I'd tell you but I don't want to go behind his back. He's been through enough suffering in his life. I know you wouldn't tell anyone about it, but…" she tried to come up with an excuse that didn't flat out admit that her friend wasn't really good at keeping secrets and that she would tell David about it once they were in close proximity again.

Mary Margaret just waved it off, not seeming offended at her unspoken reason. "I understand, you don't have to explain. I'll try to trust your judgment, which, let's face it, doesn't always work well. So I'm still suspicious, and I want to know what's between you."

"I'd like to know that, too," Emma murmured, staring out the window. "I think something has begun, but… nothing serious. For now. But I'm really starting to…"

"Love him?" Her friend smiled.

"Maybe. Sort of," she replied dejectedly.

She felt that stubborn, stupid guilt tugging at her insides again. Was this right? No, absolutely not. Especially since Neal's ring was still adorning her finger. That was anything but right.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Mary Margaret hastily assured her, no doubt noticing her attention on the glittering jewelry. "I'm just not sure Killian is the right man for you."

"I know. I mean, no! He is! I know he is." Her words got all muddled and she felt it was time to change the subject. "Anyway, don't you think Robin's been acting different ever since Leo…"

"He's getting quite annoying, yes. Honestly, he's starting to drive me crazy, this change doesn't suit him at all," she agreed, a slight exasperation resonating in her voice.

"Yeah." Emma leaned back comfortably in her seat. "By the way, when did you learn to drive?" She wanted to get Mary Margaret's mind off from her cousin.

She knew it was worse than anything else. The best tactic was to let her talk about a neutral topic.

"When your brother taught me. He also mentioned that he tried to teach you as well, but you weren't exactly an easy student," Mary Margaret laughed out loud, and Emma grinned at the memories flooding her.

She was seventeen when David suggested she should learn to drive. The first time she tried, she almost totaled his car and they both needed some band-aids after the incident. It was easier the next time, but their constant bickering made the learning process even more difficult.

They drove on in silence to their destination, and Emma was pleased to note that her friend looked better every day since they heard about her cousin's death. She wasn't as closed off as Emma had predicted, and that was certainly a good sign.

"Tell me it was the last one. I'm starving and I could kill for a cup of coffee." Emma stared somberly out the car window, watching the tiny raindrops race down the glass.

It had been pouring for two hours now, and it would be dark sooner than they expected. They needed to get back as soon as possible.

"Yeah, I think we're done," Mary Margaret replied, glancing at the workers loading the goods into the truck.

The sky was covered with dark gray clouds, and the storm seemed to have no intention of stopping. A series of thunder exploded, and a dozen bolts of lightning lit up the sky above them. Both Mary Margaret and Emma were soaked to the bone as the day wore on, and she was sure they would be hit with a nasty cold for the next few days. But all in all, she couldn't complain, their day was really going without a hitch, just a lot longer than she initially thought.

"They're finally done," Mary Margaret sighed a few minutes later. "Here we go. Emma, get the map, I'm not familiar with this part of the town."

"I'm sure of it! We have to go right. We've been here before, MM!" Emma persisted stubbornly, alternately staring out the windshield and at the map, though she couldn't see much of the building as the storm grew more furious.

"No, we haven't. We just—What the hell was that?" Mary Margaret glanced at the streets, frozen, but Emma heard nothing.

Mary Margaret slammed on the brakes.

"What's wrong?" Emma watched as her friend's face tensed.

"Something hit the back of the car. Don't tell me you didn't feel it."

"I'll go check," Emma sighed, grabbing Killian's Beretta from the glove compartment and climbing out of the car onto the muddy road.

At first, she didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so she walked toward the back of the truck with annoyed steps. She made sure the safety was off before holding the gun in front of her, ready to fire.

She hated to admit it, but Mary Margaret was right. An unfamiliar car was parked a few feet away, and two huge Werewolves were trying to carve up the back of their truck. Her breath caught in her throat and she ran back to the front as fast as her legs would carry her.

She climbed up into her seat and Mary Margaret's puzzled gaze greeted her.

"Werewolves. Let's get the hell out of here, now!" Emma reached to close the door, and it was lucky the damn werewolf hadn't ripped her arm off along with the door. The creature flung it a good twenty feet away, then, opened his ugly muzzle, and let out an ear-splitting roar, saliva dripping from his mouth.

She aimed for its head, and soon all that was left was a bloody, unrecognizable piece of flesh, the lifeless body falling to the ground with a dull thud. The engine finally came to life and she leaned back in her seat, turning her back to Mary Margaret, and staring intensely out the window.

It was difficult to maneuver with the robust truck, and the loaded cargo slowed them down even more.

"Jesus Christ. Fuck," the curses left her mouth like a mantra as she picked up the spare magazines with trembling hands.

In the rearview mirror, she saw the car following them, accompanied by more Werewolves.

"Oh, God," Mary Margaret said, and the terror that was in her voice was certainly not caused by a couple of Werewolves.

"What happened?" Emma looked out the windshield in dread, and what she saw sucked the air from her lungs.

People were pouring out of the surrounding houses into the streets in groups, staring in bewilderment at the rest of the town, which was already on fire and suddenly a violent explosion shook the buildings nearby.

"Stop here, we can't go any further!" Emma cried, shaking her head hopelessly.

She was right: a flood of people completely blocked the road. They were running up and down headlong, trampling on each other, and pushing the others aside. Emma turned away from the sight bitterly, and stuffed the magazines into her bag, slung it over her shoulders, and jumped to the ground. Mary Margaret turned off the engine, getting out as well.

They immediately rushed into the street, trying to reach the nearest corner. They tried to stay together, but it was no easy feat in the army of people. They had no idea where they were going; they just ran ahead of the swarm of people.

"I'm calling David!" Mary Margaret exclaimed as she stopped to dial her boyfriend.

Emma also came to a halt and blinked nervously around the corner. They were running from dozens of Elves, Lycanthropes, and Vampires, and this time there was little hope of getting away unscathed — if at all.

She watched as an Elf lifted their truck with a simple flick of his wrist and hurled it across the street, effortlessly knocking over a few hundred people and landing it in front of a bakery's window. It exploded the moment it hit the ground. Even Emma could feel the rising heat and pressure of the explosion a few hundred feet away.

Jesus.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!" Mary Margaret clutched the phone furiously as Emma pulled her into the shelter of one of the buildings.

Hopefully, they wouldn't notice them, just like the people rushing past them didn't make them out either. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and her blood pressure had probably skyrocketed.

Then David finally picked up.

"Mary Margaret, I really can't talk right now…" David gasped on the other end of the line. An unmistakable mixture of screams, brawls, and explosions came from the phone. Obviously, all hell was breaking loose throughout the entire city.

"David, we can't go back! The truck is gone and all we have is a gun!" Mary Margaret yelled.

"Damn it…" David hissed. It was good to know that at least someone sympathized with them. "Where are you now?"

"We don't know, we're lost," Mary Margaret griped frantically. Feverishly, she scanned the houses to see if she could make out a street name somewhere. "Our last address was Rogers' and we're not far from it on the Avenue," she said hopelessly.

"I'll send someone there, August can narrow down your location. Arthur and Will are somewhere nearby, I'm sure they can—"

The line went dead and Mary Margaret nearly slammed the phone to the ground in anger. "I don't think they'll come here. Let's try to get out of town," Mary Margaret finally whispered, stowing her phone in her pocket.

Emma had to agree with her, but still, a small hope lingered inside her that someone would come to their rescue.

Mary Margaret stared out into the street but immediately backed away. She squinted her eyes and bit her lower lip. Emma didn't even have to ask what was scaring her because in the next moment, it became quite obvious. Within seconds, the avenue was flooded with screaming civilians and a herd of beasts trotting in their wake. The air was full of magic and she was having a hard time getting oxygen into her lungs.

The humans were trapped further away, at the end of the road as the monsters continued to advance. A little boy cried bitterly in his mother's frightened embrace and Emma's stomach tightened. At that moment, hatred flared in her with renewed vigor, she despised them all with every fiber of her being. Her finger tightened on the trigger and her nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

They had to do something, they couldn't just sit idly by. But it would be absolute suicide to put themselves in the line of fire.

Crackling fire. Screams. Feral growls. Mocking laughter. And crying.

The mother's cry finally reinforced her decision, her limbs acting of their own accord as she pushed herself off the wall and stepped out of the shadows beside Mary Margaret. She raised the Beretta and took aim at the wolf as it pounced on its prey. Several people behind her gasped in shock, and a few wolves hesitated and stopped.

The beast bared its teeth as it lay on the ground, its entire body was tense and in its bloodshot eyes, Emma saw nothing but an unquenchable, eternal thirst for blood and ruthlessness. She wouldn't miss again.

Most of them didn't care about her, they continued their march. Mary Margaret led the group behind her to the end of the road and Emma opened fire, but that probably surprised her more than the wolves. The Beretta had a nasty recoil, much stronger than the Glock, but she could still hold it in her hand. Its effect was much more remarkable. The bullet punched a fist-sized hole in the wolf's chest. At its pained groan, more wolves decided to stop, but even then, there were still too many heading their way. They gradually accelerated until they finally charged at them at full speed.

Quite a few fell from her shots, but most of them burned up from the energy shield Mary Margaret pulled up around them. Emma stumbled back from the sudden heat, holding her hand over her eyes to shield them somewhat from the deep blue light that filled the entire street. Several people applauded and cheered behind Mary Margaret. Of course, they had no idea how much energy it took to create and maintain such a force field.

Utilizing the protection of her friend's shield, which was still withstanding the onslaught of increasingly angry wolves, Emma reloaded the Beretta and cast an uneasy glance to the right. In the one-way street that led into the Avenue, three more Werewolves roared toward them.

Then several things happened at once. Mary Margaret's vibrating and trembling shield had suddenly dissipated and the remaining dozen wolves were charging at them again, and the ones coming from the right were getting closer.

Mary Margaret cried out sharply behind her, and Emma instinctively turned her head over her shoulder. A dark-haired Werewolf about six feet tall, huge, even among the others, charged at them at breakneck speed. She aimed the gun without thinking, but instead of attacking them, the wolf ran past her, bounced off the ground, and hit the pavement in front of her.

She staggered back and fell to the ground, but she didn't take her eyes off the wolf in front of her for even a moment. The surrounding buildings trembled under his roar as well, and the other wolves almost froze into statues. They were startled and hesitated. The one in front of her howled again, but then the three to her right started running again, lashing out at the big wolf.

They charged at her protector. The first leapt straight for his throat, but the dark one sank its claws into the other's side and hurled it into the others. The gray one groaned bitterly, having apparently suffered a severe wound. But the sandy-colored wolf tore deep into the dark one's chest, and Emma couldn't follow the rest, it was happening too fast for the human eye, she could only hear the gnashing of teeth and a bronchial roar.

Mary Margaret grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up off the ground. She felt her legs wobble a little, but they were still holding her up. She took her pistol and pointed it at the blond wolf and his companions, who had already drilled the brown wolf, who was barely moving, to the ground. Suspiciously dark blood flowed from its neck.

"Jesus," Mary Margaret pressed her hand to her ear as Emma fired the entire magazine into the pile of wolves.

Her ears were already ringing like hell, she definitely wouldn't be able to hear properly for quite a while. The sandy colored wolf and his buddies fell to the ground, while the brown one also lay motionless. Emma could only hope she hadn't hit him because after all, he had saved their lives. The why was another question.

Six wolves still remained ready to fight, they were probably very stupid, unlike their peers who decided to wave the proverbial white flag and fled. Mary Margaret gasped in exhaustion and Emma's magazine was empty, the rest was in her bag. She wasn't fast enough to fish it out and reload the gun with it.

Mary Margaret reached for her jacket but Emma had already heard and seen another looming threat, and before she could do anything, her friend yanked her back. For the second time that day, she slumped to the wet pavement. It took maybe two seconds and four inches for the midnight black Porsche Panamera, turning out of the one-way street at insane speed, not to run her over. The brakes squealed frantically, and the car spun across the wide avenue, dragging the four wolves running in front of it. With a tremendous crash, the vehicle slammed into the window of the furniture store across the street, burying all four beasts under the car.

Following the Porsche was a silver Audi A8. Behind its rolled-down window, four shots rang out. If Emma hadn't suffered permanent hearing damage by now, it was a sure thing now. The last two wolves still on their feet were also incapacitated. An ominous silence descended over the street. She heard nothing but the crackle of the fire and the low hum of the Audi's engine.

The driver's door of the Audi slammed open and Will jumped out. A tall, tanned, short brown-haired and scruffy guy got out on the other side, a shotgun in his hand.

Emma felt like her limbs were turning to lead, fear almost paralyzing her, as if she carried a bag of stones from each of her cartilages.

Killian.

Stumbling, she walked toward the black sports car in the flames, which she could only vaguely make out through the curtain of rain.

She strode through the pile of debris in front of the store, trying not to think, just to do what her instincts told her. She kicked aside a broken lampshade from the Porsche's dented door, but before she could rush to Killian's aid, the door swung open of its own accord. An almost unearthly joy flared in her as she saw his miraculously unharmed hand as he searched for a hold on the edge of the seat.

"Killian…" she stumbled over to him, but by then he was out of the remains of the car.

His legs gave way, however, and with a dying groan he fell to the ground, his gaze growing strangely misty.

"Will, hurry!" she cried frantically, kneeling beside Killian. His clothes were soaked through with blood, and a gash a good three inches long ran along his temple. "Killian, can you hear me?" She gently stroked his face where she saw no injuries.

Blood was also dripping from his ears in a thin stream, but he managed to give her an answer in the form of a tiny, slow nod. She could see that he wasn't really aware of his surroundings.

Will and his companion violently grabbed Killian and rushed him to the Audi. Before she could give her opinion on their bedside manner, however, it struck her why they weren't so considerate of Killian's current condition. At the other end of the avenue, another team of creatures gathered. Vampires and Elves.

She knew they had to get the hell out of here. Quickly.

Mary Margaret opened the left back door for the boys and helped Killian sit in the seat. Will and the unknown Hunter sat in the front, and Emma slipped into the back seat next to Mary Margaret and Killian after a ten second delay. She took one last look at where the brown wolf should have been lying, but it was no longer there. The pool of blood left behind, however, convinced her that she wasn't imagining the somewhat suicidal wolf.

She slammed the door behind her and the car immediately began to move. Will backed into the one-way street as fast as he could.

Killian tilted his head back, and tried to stay conscious, or at least maintain the dazed state he had fallen into a few minutes ago. Mary Margaret was arguing with Will about something, but Emma wasn't really interested in anything else right now, except getting Killian help as soon as possible.

"Where are we going?" she demanded of Will, out voicing him as he was still loudly explaining something to Mary Margaret.

He gave her an annoyed look but fell silent willingly, which Emma appreciated. "We can't go to the Guild right now, but the area around your apartment should be clear. If you don't mind staying there…"

"No, but hurry!" she growled, rolling her eyes, and turning back to Killian.

He gasped slightly, his spine arching, and he stared at his hand in alarm. His body tried to dislodge out the shards of glass that had drilled into his palm, but to no avail. He pressed his uninjured hand to his stomach, trying not to let out a scream. His icy magic kept flaring in the car. Slowly, he started to recover.

Emma bit her lip as anger surged through her veins. She looked out the window and saw nothing but the fading dark spots and drops of water dripping down the window.

How did he know they were in trouble? And where had he gotten the idea to do such a stupid thing?

He was clearly a lunatic.

"Hang in there, we're almost there," she whispered as she squeezed Killian's undamaged hand reassuringly.

All she got in response was an impatient grunt, but she couldn't blame him. If she were in his place, she would've already curled up and screamed in pain.

"Drop me off at the next corner. Ruby wants me to meet her," the nameless guy turned to Will.

"Alright, but then come to David and Emma's house later." Will slowed to a deserted street and he jumped out of the vehicle.

"Okay," he nodded, but before he could get out, Will called after him.

"Arthur!"

"Huh?" He snapped the rifle onto his shoulder and turned around.

Most of the buildings behind him were blackened with soot and most were still burning, windows broken and walls collapsing in some places. Most of the street was covered in rubble, along with various objects. There was dead silence in the neighborhood, not a soul to be seen.

"Watch out for your ass!" Will grinned, and Emma was envious of his cheerfulness.

While half the city was being demolished, he was still able to smile.