Michael had never expected to see Kraven again, especially not haunting a local hostel in Venice. He had become a shadow of his former self, no longer decorated with lavish clothes and jewelry. Despite appearances, Michael has his suspicions that Kraven would not be lying idle. He was sure that the once-proud, slick-tongued Vampire would not accept Selene's answer, nor allow the Coven to revel in the sweet taste of his defeat. He was the first, Vampire or Lycan, that Michael had seen since he had separated from Selene.
Michael was certain Kraven hadn't seen him, but just the knowledge that the man who had once haunted Selene, even tried to kill both of them, was around Venice was enough to make him leave. He packed his scant belongings with a certain sadness. His internship at a local hospital in Venice had earned him the title of Doctor Corvin. He had watched the changes in culture, dress, and entertainment over the past fifty years and felt himself, alone, never aging a day. His need to see Selene again had recently grown, due to a series of odd visions he had been having about her walking behind the Lycan Raze in a new hiding place. Raze had been Lucian's second, trusted by Lucian to run things in the event of his death. If Raze truly was with Selene, then she had returned to the city. Trusting his blind faith and the truth of his dreams, he accepted a ride from a friend who was driving across Europe and began the taxing journey back. He was returning to where it had all begun. Hope that he might see Selene again, alive and well, filled his thoughts. Regret filled his blue eyes as he stared out the window, watching the scenery fly by in varying shades of color. His brown-blond hair was longer than it had ever been, tied back so that it fell in an untidy bunch to the middle of his back. He scarcely noticed he responses to Andrew's conversation. Andrew was a friend from the hospital, on his way to Spain to see his girlfriend. His offer to drop Michael off had been extremely kind, and had earned him money for gas. His friend pulled the car over to the curb, letting him out near the coast. The rest of his journey was made on foot, with no regard for weariness. Michael attributed this to his blood and his own sheer force of will. Eventually, he found the area more familiar, despite half a century of changes. Adam, the intern he had once called friend, would be near his death now. Despite the thoughts of his past slipping away, he was coming to accept what he had become. The streets became darker, the air more heavy, and in his homespun teal scrubs, Michael stepped back into the mysterious world he had fallen into fifty years ago.
Selene had set up empty beer bottles, and in her building restlessness, she squeezed off the five rounds it took to shatter them all. Raze stared at her with mixed interest, wondering what she could possibly be thinking about. Two weeks of hard searching had gone by, and none of his pack had found a single trace of Michael.
She had been treated as a cross between guest and prisoner, allowed to roam out at night only with an escort, but given free run of the den and its intricate maze of passages and rooms. Most of her time was dedicated to writing a detailed description of what she had learned from the Lycan scientist she had interrogated, piecing together the ancient Corvinus legend and the truth she had found behind it. Her restlessness grew as the reports kept coming back negative. Had Michael decided the strain of his disease was too much to bear? Had he fled beyond Europe, to the United States? So many questions filled her mind that they nearly consumed her. Night had recently fallen, and Selene in her anger had decided not to sit around and wait. She was going to take matters into her own hands tonight, scour every inch of the city and all of Michael's old haunts. At least it would be better than sitting on her hands and waiting. "I have to go, Raze," she confided in him. The more that they discussed things, the more she had grudgingly come to like the giant Lycan. "I sit here no longer. Send an escort if you must, but I cannot in good conscience sit around here a moment longer. The better part of the manuscript you asked for has been written. I'm of no use here." Raze watched impassively as she shot out the new line of bottles she had arranged. She was a most impressive shot, as Raze had witnessed firsthand on a few occasions.
"If you must go, then you must. I'll escort you myself. It is safer for you here, but I know what it is like to have to wait. Give me ten minutes." Selene nodded, never taking her eye off of the target as he walked out of the room. The memory of just how many places she might find Michael was staggering. She silently cursed herself for not setting up a definite location and time to meet up with him. In their haste, the sound of the betrayed ringing in their ears, neither had thought that far ahead. Her blindness had been caused by her love for him, the love that had helped Lucian achieve his dream and set Michael's true potential free. The love that Selene now relied on to keep herself going day-to-day.
Raze returned shortly, armed to the teeth and bugged with radio. If they were trapped by the enemy Death Dealers, he could give an idea as to their location and call for help. Selene could tell that it irritated him to have need for such measures. She was not alone in her frustration after all. "Ready?" Raze nodded silently, leading the way back to the steel door which had become the gate to their stronghold. He was tucking weapons in their many hiding places beneath his great trench-coat, barking out orders like an angry drill sergeant as he passed. The thrill of traveling in such a small contingency was getting to them both, and they were becoming increasingly eager to get moving. They unbolted the door, prepared to disappear into the veil of night. What greeted them next, no one could have expected.
Filling the doorway were a large group of Vampire Death Dealers, guns pointed straight at Raze's chest. He took a surprised step back, shrugging off his jacket as the throes of transformation overtook him and his face left its more human features behind for a long, canine nose and dripping teeth. His deafening roar rallied the other Lycans, who surrounded Selene in various stages of transformation. She could see the tension on the lead Vampire's trigger, and shoved Raze aside as the shot was fired. She took the silver nitrate round in her shoulder, hissing angrily and bearing her fangs like a threatened snake. She was not allergic to the silver, as Raze was. Still, it burned like hell, and smoke escaped the wound as her regenerative ability went to work. "It's Selene! Get Viktor's murderer! Forget the Lycans, kill them if you must!" Erika, the once-naïve Vampire craving Kraven's affections, was at the head of the Death Dealers. A total transformation had overcome her. Clad smartly in the thick, black leather of the Death Dealers' jacket, she looked every inch the warrior Selene had once been. She fled, deeper into the maze. There was no other way out that she had found besides the door by which she had first entered the haven. Her undead heart beat hard in her chest, and she gasped for air as she urged her brain to formulate a plan. She hit paydirt when she stumbled across the armory. The UV ammunition the Vampires had learned of when she was still among them lined the walls. She collected six of the clips, ejecting her normal rounds and falling down on one knee to load her guns. She heard the click of heeled boots on the floor just outside the room. For good measure, she scooped up another handful of the clips and crammed them into a nearby duffel bag. Erika rounded the corner, along with her team of six others. Selene coolly opened fire, her first two shots slamming into the forerunners. She hadn't recognized either of the Vampires she had just killed, but it wasn't unusual, considering the union of the three great Covens under one leader. Selene grabbed at one of the chains overhead, swinging herself into the four remaining enemies and Erika. Her boot connected with the face of one, snapping his neck on contact. He crumpled to the ground as she tore back the way she had come, toward the door and freedom. She cocked her weapons, firing once again into the next contingent she happened across. She had no time to consider what was happening. Raze was lying in a pool of his own blood, apparently hit with old silver rounds. They were burning into his flesh, but he was digging them out with a knife he had procured from his boot. Selene slung his arm across her shoulders and helped him to his feet, all the while glancing nervously behind her for a sign of Death Dealers. It appeared they were moving deeper into the lair, meticulously collecting all the Lycan specimens they could. Ignoring the urge to plunge back into the fray, Selene and her injured Lycan companion melted into the shadows.