The four clamped themselves into silence as the homeowners made their way inside. Cassandra stood, killed her phone line back to Bruce, and made a wave toward the den's window, which looked out on Clermont-Ferrand's streets. Those who still milled up and down throughout the city were not insubstantial, but the whole place still seemed so small matched against Gotham. The need for the quick escape forced Cassandra to swallow some anxiety as she went to work on one of the windows. It would be best to disappear into a crowd, but the numbers weren't on their side.

Sadie's eyes went wide. "Oh crap, we're really climbing out that thing, aren't we?"

The Question raised a finger to where her mouth should have been, commanded, "Shhh," and ran for the bedroom she'd used for the last few days. She returned a few seconds later with her jacket half tugged on and a grappling hook in hand. "I'll lead the way."

"Unless they're actively using the arts, we shouldn't have triggered the crusading bastards' alarm yet." Constantine groaned in disgust. "Course, that faerie of theirs might have a powerful nose on him. Where are we going?"

"I have a thought, but first things," the Question said. "But first we need to move."

Sadie moved in close to Cassandra and whispered, "I never even liked going down the fire pole back on the playground. You have any tips for this?"

Cassandra considered for a moment, then said, grab ahold of my back."

It took Sadie a moment to shake the stunned look from her face before she asked, "Are you joking?"

With a shake of her arms and legs, the hidden white armor of the Suit of Sorrows blazed up from Cassandra's undermost layer to the top. She turned and motioned to Sadie to invite her to piggyback.

"What are you doing?" The Question asked with a hiss as she finished attaching the grapple. "Constantine just said—"

"That isn't magic," the magician said with a wave of his hand. "Eh, or it's not the same thing. You can't track religious magic—least I've never heard of anyone doing so—" he paused for a moment, considered, and followed with, "But playing with that armor like a damned toy is probably asking for trouble."

Sadie didn't accept the piggyback offer until the steps and French talking echoed through the adjacent hallway. With an unsettled sigh of, "Merde," she wrapped first her arms about Cassandra's neck, then her legs around her stomach. "You sure you can do this? I'm pretty sure I weigh more than you."

"I have you," Cassandra said. "Just hold on tight."

The Question was the first with her hands on the grappling rope, so she was the first to take the plunge into the hibiscus bush below. Constantine followed just behind and said, "Get the lead out, you two!"

Down the hall came a question of, "Hein? Avez-vous entendu que?"

With Sadie clasped on tight, Cassandra took ahold of the rope and peered out the window. Two seconds before her jump, a middle aged French couple stepped into the sitting room. The wife dropped her luggage and screamed as her husband shouted and cursed.

Sadie called out, "Je suis tellement désolé!" as Cassandra leapt out of the room. Sadie nearly screamed as they descended, but they hit the ground too quickly to get out much more than an, "Eek!"

By the last jump, the hibiscus bush was trampled and the Question yanked the rope back into her grappling hook. "We should head for the train station, strong pace, but don't attract attention."

Constantine asked, "Train station? I thought we weren't even leaving until morning."

"It'll be tight, but if we can get to there we might be able to catch the last train to Vichy tonight and put ourselves back on course in the morning." The Question muttered a swear under her breath and led the way.

"It'll have to do, then. More importantly, it'll put us there, not here," Constantine said. "Distance is a friend to us if tracking magic is involved."

Cassandra looked to Sadie and asked, "Doing okay?"

A laugh seemed to free itself involuntarily. "Yeah, I—I think I'm good. One hell of a jump, you could probably market that as some kind of theme park event."

The thought put a little smile on Cassandra's face, but the swiftly refocused her effore and took Sadie's hand. "Time to go."

"Right." As the four sped up their brisk walk, Sadie inadvertently asked a question Cassandra couldn't articulate. "Hey, uh, Mister Constantine? Isn't using magic supposed to be blasphemous or something? Are you really worried about them using something like that?"

"They were already willing to fight on holy ground," Constantine said. "And I'm pretty sure buggering choir boys is a blasphemy too. Like most things in life, it's only a problem when someone without power does it."

Cassandra's pulse picked up as she scowled toward him. Constantine's casual irreverence had gotten under her skin for the last few days, more because his points usually seemed well made than anything else. In Gotham her faith was respected and almost never challenged among her allies, this magician represented a greater disparity. In an odd, backwards sort of way, she hadn't felt pushed on like that since the days of an aggressive radio evangelist named Cameron Gram. Even if Gram had settled significantly since his old opposition days, she still suspected Constantine wouldn't appreciate the comparison.

The four kept a pace that was brisk yet largely avoided notice as they moved uphill and down through the side streets of Clermont-Ferrand. According to the Question, the journey to the train station was nearly as quick on foot as it was by car, since the old, cramped city was built with foot traffic in mind. They had one kilometer to cover, and with the relaxed calm of a weeknight and the city's calm demeanor, the way seemed clear and simple.

In the midst of their concentrated walk, Cassandra jerked her head up and a shudder ran through her. Sadie, close at her side, caught sight of the motion. "What is it?"
Cassandra asked, "Did you hear something?"

"Something like what?"

"A... scream. Shriek, maybe." Cassandra had certainly picked up on something and with her feet still carrying her, she darted her gaze around at the sky overhead. The close-packed red houses and shops covered most of what was above them, but she thought she perhaps saw a large bird drop down out of sight a few blocks away.

"A shriek? No." Sadie looked toward Constantine and the Question. "Did you guys hear something just now? Maybe a shriek?"

The Question didn't even turn around. "No. Keep moving."

Perhaps it was the suit of armor that granted her unknown power that suggested the noise to Cassandra. Or it could have been past nights on the roofs of Gotham in pursuit of the feral Doctor Kirk Langston. Whatever it was, it argued to her that hadn't been a bird she'd seen land.

The most direct route to the train station led the Question through one last, narrow alleyway. The four kept a strong pace and there were just two blocks left to go. The night's forced journey seemed as if it would prove fruitful, until a figure, slender, tanned, and with a head of slicked back black hair and sunglasses, stepped into the center of the alley. The Question stuttered in her run for a moment as he raised his arms out to obstruct her path.

"Oh goodness." The man's accent, nearly but not quite western American, came out lisped, more akin to 'goodneth' than 'goodness.' "In a hurry tonight, aren't we?"

After he momentary slow down, the Question picked up her pace again and commanded, "Out of the way."

The sunglassed man sighed, sidestepped into her path, and caught the Question by her peacoat. With a strength disproportionate to his small arms, he threw her backwards and the detective stumbled into Constantine a few steps behind her.

"No need to be rude now," he said. "We can all be friends." He appeared to scrutinize the sight of the four for a moment, though it was difficult to tell under the dark of his glasses. "Ah, you must be the faceless yokai then—"

"Bastard's just out to waste our time!" Constantine stepped in front of the Question and produced his lighter out of his trench coat. With a wave and an effort of his will, he wrapped his hand tight around the tiny plume of flame it produced. The fire expanded rapidly in his hand into a blazing ball and he lobbed it toward the obstructer.

The man in the way raised his hands and accepted the strike of the fireball, though it singed his arm hairs and made him grit his teeth. "Punyeta! I'm trying to be civil here—"

The Question again closed the distance and dashed past him. As Constantine similarly approached, he uttered a hiss and opened his mouth. Out from the back of his throat shot a thin but sharp blade that pierced straight through Constantine's coat and through his shoulder. The shock and pain of the attack coaxed a shout of pain out of the magician as he staggered and fell to the ground.

Just a few steps behind Constantine, Sadie released her hold on Cassandra's hand to cover a shriek and a, "What the hell is that thing?"

Cassandra, freed of Sadie's grip, closed the distance and threw a punch at the blocker's stomach. He wasn't ready for the force of the blow from such a small body, gasped and clutched at the spot she'd struck him. While he was keeled forward, Cassandra turned on one of her heels and threw a kick into the side of his head. The stranger fell forward as his enormous tongue retracted and groaned in pain.

Grip still on the shoulder he'd felt punctured twice in the last week, Constantine scowled at their downed opposition and muttered between grit teeth, "Really though, is he supposed to be—"

The Question, out from the alley, called back, "Train! Hurry it up back there!"

Constantine and Cassandra each cast a last glance at their opponent before they dashed past him. Through his cracked sunglasses, the lisping man glared and said, "So, the armor settled itself in you." He flashed a sneer and looked toward Sadie at the back of the group. "Which means it didn't pick anyone else."

The stranger lunged off the pavement toward Sadie and pinned her against one of the adjacent buildings. There was no containing her shout that time as he stuck out his pointed tongue and uttered a hiss. Her three companions came to a reluctant stop and looked back, but Cassandra was the first to sprint.

"Cassie!" Sadie called between curses and kicks. "Get him off me!"

"No, Cassie, don't." He gave a satisfied laugh as he tested her name and his lisp rendered it, 'Cathie.' "Human blood is like veal. I hate to drink it, but the flavor is unmatched."

From the mouth of the alley, Constantine demanded, "And now there's a sodding vampire in the mix too?"

Cassandra took a step closer as anger bubbled up just under her surface. "Let her go."

"I don't think I will," the blood eater said. "Turn yourself over, if she's so important to you. The Nephilim have need of your armor." When she took another step forward, he hissed again. "The armor can make a mortal into a damned superhero, but I've had been fast and strong all my life. You only just got that power, you haven't begun to understand it yet."

Though Sadie's struggles in his grip only continued to infuriate her, the stranger's words put a small, playful smile on Cassandra's lips. "You don't understand."

After a moment's confusion, the vampire let out a placating chuckle. "What don't I understand?"

"Already was a superhero."

From his perspective, Cassandra's dash was more like a flash step. The white, black, and gold of the Suit of Sorrows engulfed her body as she wrenched his hands off of Sadie. With her girlfriend freed, the Angel released one of his hands to free up an arm of her own. With a flurry of strikes she hammered away at his face with her fists and elbows. In a daze from the attack, the vampire was in a haze of dull pain when she again delivered a kick that knocked him to the ground.

Bloodied and weary, the stranger looked up at Angel through his shattered sunglasses in stunted wonder. "What… what are you?" After a second in that stunted wonder, he said, "Screw it," turned his head toward Sadie still at the back of the pack, and shouted, "Lintik ka!" Mouth wide open, the spearlike-tongue lashed out again.

Angel's reaction was driven by one part sustained anger, one part protective instincts, and one part instinct forced by the Suit of Sorrows. She drew one of the handles latched to her belt, the blade of orange fire burst out from the hilt, and she swung at the appendage. With a slash she cut off the tongue at its halfway point. The vampire's eyes went wide as she screamed in pain as he tried to rise off the ground. With a second swing, she sliced straight through his waist. For a moment the alleyway was silent save for his screams. Together with the sudden gush of blood from his lower half, the sound returned Cassandra to her senses.

With a shake of her head and the disipaation of the flaming sword, her eyes suddenly went wide and she gasped. "Oh God, what did I do?"

The vampire beat his hands against the ground and pushed as he struggled and bled. Cassandra dropped to her knees as the Suit of Sorrows burned away from her body.

"Let me see," she said. "Please, I'm sorry, let me—"

The creature's fabric at the creature's back stretched until it burst, a pair of great, leathery wings rose over his form. With a series of sharp, hard flaps, the vampire rose off the ground and into the air, blood still dripping and innards still dangling as he disappeared back into the night. The four stared up in shock and disgust at what the last minute had brought before, for a last time, the Question called out, "Train, now!"

Constantine was fast on her heels. Sadie took a few steps in their direction, still shaken, but stopped when Cassandra hadn't moved. "Hey," she said. "Come on, we gotta keep up."

A shiver of her own ran through Cassandra. "Could have killed him. What… what even happened?"

"I don't know." Sadie laid a hand on Cassandra's shoulder as it seemed she so often had in those last few days. "But he had it in him to… fly away. Oh my God, what is even happening." She shook her head. "Well, more importantly, you rescued me. Again." Desperate for a little levity, she said, "We should probably start you up a punch card or something."

Whether she truly understood, was actually amused, or just appreciated the effort, the smallest of smiles did come to Cassandra's face. "Thank you."

"Really? You're thanking me? You're the one who just—"

Constantine turned and ran backwards as he called, "Oi, pick up the pace back there!"

With the monster still flying somewhere overhead but nowhere else to go, Cassandra and Sadie resumed their run for the train to their first step toward Rome.