To all the great people who have reviewed the fic – thank you :) *bows*

A/N 1: As in the previous chapters – ideas for fic and character development, questions, plotbunnies, suggestions, flames, character pictures, corrections, additions, comments, and everything in between can be mailed to hack_heaven@usa.net

A/N 2: Archangel: Yes, and it's entirely your fault, I'll have you know. I was just looking for a good character picture, and then I found the trailers, and now my movie-Logan and Ultimate-Scott muses are jealous. Bad boy. I ought to sic Fortune on you.

VFgirl: That's okay – my spring break is in two weeks, so I have something to look forward to as well *g*

Maxwell Dark: Confusing? You ain't seen nothing yet...*eg*

MissNovelist: *I* won't kill any of the regulars. The humans will ;) And darling, cliffhangers are what I do best *eg*

I sincerely apologize to Ryan. I'm a very, very bad, manipulative girl, and shouldn't be let anywhere near a computer. Oh, well.

Italics indicates thoughts

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: One of Those Mornings...

* * *

"Mmmph...stop it, Blade, you're hogging the covers," a sleepy, female voice complained.

Ryan felt someone pull in the blankets, then the distinctive feeling of movement next to him. The obviously female person snuggled closer and went back to sleep with her right arm sprawled lazily across his chest.

For a brief moment Ryan couldn't remember where he was, but all too quickly the events of the previous night came crashing down on him.

Fuck!

He opened his eyes a bit and took a careful look around. The woman in his bed was Jordane, and while Ryan hadn't expected to find her there, he couldn't really say that he was surprised – he knew what the rumors said about the strange relationship between Blade and Jordane, and this only served to prove that those speculations were correct.

Ryan tried to move away a bit, but Jordane whimpered at the sudden loss of heat, and held on to him. Ryan sighed and moved back. The last thing he wanted right now was to face Jordane's questions while he was still half-asleep.

He resigned himself to staying in bed for a little while longer, and settled for a look at the room and its occupants instead.

Ryan wasn't sure what time it was, but judging from the light from the window, it was sometime in the morning. There were some slight movements in the other beds, but no one seemed very eager to get up.

If they've been through the same things as we have, no wonder they're sleeping in.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed what would probably be the last chance to relax he'd have in a long time.

I have to get back to the others...but I can't just show up like this. They'd never believe me. I have to give them a chance to realize that there's something wrong first.

"Damn!" he breathed softly as he realized something. He had no idea how to find them again. None. Zip. Nada.

Okay...we were heading for Chicago. I doubt Blade would change that – someone would probably start to wonder what was going on, and Blade wouldn't take that risk. So they're going to Chicago. Hopefully, I should be able to convince this team to do the same.

Satisfied that he had something that at least resembled a course of action, he yawned and stretched his tired limbs. He could do this – no problem. Not problem at all...

He tried to get out of the bed as quietly as possible, but unfortunately, it wasn't quietly enough.

"'Morning," Jordane mumbled sleepily.

Ryan froze instantly.

"'Morning," he replied, in a voice that was almost normal.

"Where're you going?" Jordane asked and stretched lazily, giving Ryan a good view of her thin nightshirt. She didn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as him, and for some reason that only served to make Ryan even more determined to get away from her.

"To the bathroom," Ryan replied quietly. "Go back to sleep, Jordane."

Jordane reached out and brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes.

"How's your head?" she asked softly, and for the briefest of moments Ryan actually felt touched by her concern. Then he remembered that it wasn't *him* she was concerned about; it was Blade.

"Fine," he replied curtly, and got out of the bed. He was still wearing the pants and T-shirt from last night, so he grabbed some random clothes from the bag next to the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

He locked the door behind him and sat down heavily on the floor.

I can't do this. I can't pretend to be a cold-blooded killer for God knows how many days. I can't.

But he didn't have a choice, and he knew it.

Ryan closed his eyes tightly and imagined that he was back with his own team. Back in the motel room, with people he knew and trusted. People who had unknowingly invited a snake into their nest.

Blade, I swear, if you hurt any of them, there will be no place on earth that can keep you safe from me.

Slowly he got up and looked in the mirror. He let a finger trace the faint scar that ran across the jawbone on the left side of his face, and caught himself wondering what had caused it. It was odd – to look his worst enemy in the eyes and not worry about surviving.

Odd, and a little bit worrying because on some level, Ryan could see some of himself in the mirror. Behind the cold eyes and the hard expression, he saw part of himself, and he didn't like it one bit. Even the mere thought that he, Ryan, had something in common with an assassin who had been declared clinically insane...it freaked him out. It freaked him out and worried him more than he'd care to admit.

Ryan absently ran a brush through the shoulder-length hair, then picked up the clothes he'd tossed on the floor. Loose. Dark. Lots of places to hide weapons and other nasty surprises.

He put on the clothes with slow movements, then faced the mirror again.

And this time, he found no trace of himself in the reflection.

* * *

"You look like shit," Laetitia said and handed Ryan two knives hanging in a holster. He had barely gotten out of the bathroom before the Greek assassin had handed him the various weapons Blade usually carried around. Ryan hadn't liked it one bit, but forced himself to accept the weapons to avoid suspicions.

He glared at Laetitia and took the knives. He recognized them, of course – it was the same two knives that had nearly claimed his life that very night. If he'd had it his way, those two knives would have disappeared into a bag, never to be seen again. Unfortunately Laetitia was watching him, and Ryan had no other choice but to reluctantly attach the weapons to his belt.

Laetitia smiled faintly.

"That's the spirit," she said. "I was starting to worry that you'd suffered some permanent damage to your head last night."

"Why would you think that?" Ryan asked with practiced casualness.

Laetitia shrugged.

"You didn't act like yourself, that's all," she replied, and started to pack her things.

Ryan felt a rush of adrenaline at those words, but forced himself to act indifferently.

She doesn't know. There is no way she can know. It was just a casual remark, nothing more. No need to panic. Not yet, anyway. It was just a lucky guess.

He never noticed the ruthless smile that graced Laetitia's lips.

* * *

"As I see it, the best option would be to cross the border here," Jordane said and pointed at the map.

Much to Ryan's relief it had turned out that the Shadow Alliance was heading to Chicago as well, so he didn't have to come up with a good excuse to suddenly chance their route. The bad news was that they'd have to cross the border that separated the Atlantic States from the Midwest, and quite frankly, Ryan had no idea how to handle that. In his own body he would have used his powers get through, but in this case...

"Couldn't we bribe our way through again? As far as I know, the border to the Midwest has a very relaxed attitude to rules," Zach said.

Jordane frowned.

"You know, that wasn't a bad idea. Blade?" she asked and looked at Ryan to see if he approved.

Bribe? Well...it's better than the alternative, I guess...and this way Blade's blood money will come to good use.

He nodded, and Jordane folded the map back together.

"Well, now that that's settled, let's get out of this dump," she said.

Yeah. Let's do that. The faster we get to Chicago, the faster I can get away from here, Ryan wanted to add.

But he remained silent.

* * *

"Hey!" Hal's voice cut through the noise in the hotel room, and the others stopped their packing. "Has anyone seen my shotgun?"

Ryan nearly choked.

A *shotgun*? She has a *shotgun*?!

Zach frowned and scratched his neck.

"Check Jordane's bag – the blue one. I think that's where we put it last time we packed."

"Thanks," Hal said, and grabbed the bag. She found the gun almost immediately and smiled triumphantly.

"Here we go. I feel almost naked without it," she said and put the shotgun in her own bag after checking that it wasn't loaded.

Ryan shivered and looked away. The Shadow Alliance seemed disturbingly used to weapons – as far as he could tell, they were all armed with at least one gun. Even Pheonix, who treated the guns like they poisonous, had a small pistol hanging in a holster.

The two guns and several large knives he himself carried felt downright uncomfortable. The weapons felt unnaturally heavy, and Ryan desperately hoped that he wouldn't actually have the use any of them. He'd seen Blade fight, and knew how the Shadow Alliance would expect him to react.

Ryan couldn't do something like that. He couldn't kill another human being simply for the pleasure of it. He couldn't slit someone's throat, or execute them in cold blood if they crossed him. He had a conscience, damnit. He had morals. He wasn't Blade.

He wasn't...

* * *

Look! No cliffhanger! Wow! Can I get a gold star now?

Coming up: How long can Blade keep up the charade before someone gets suspicious? Why does Erik suddenly visit Jhonen again? And whose side is he really on?