LUCKY THIRTEEN

The day dragged on and on. Minutes drew into hours, and long hours blurred into what felt like days. The longer they strayed there, the harder it became. They just meandered about, wandering the dark, lonely halls of Nocturne, awaiting their destiny.

It was hard, just sitting there, waiting for the STN-J just to pounce on them. At any moment, an assault team from Solomon could come crashing through the front doors, armed and ready to take on the band of witches. For all they knew, the hunters could already be staking out sniper points along the buildings around Nocturne. The mere thought of their uncertain fate made the entire band uneasy at best.

Eventually, in the afternoon, the group decided it would be best to sleep, under the counsel of Kathain. However, none dared return to the lost upstairs. They took to the club, gathering around the bar and hall of Purgatory. Safety in numbers. They took shifts.

Kathain stalked across the dance floor, carried a fleece blanket with care as she tiptoed towards the couches along the far side of the club. She gave a slight nod to Brett as he paced anxiously, itching for the impending battle to just happen and be done with. The girl had to sympathize. She knew whatever would happen that night would be terrible; in fact, Kathain knew better than anyone else. Still, this didn't mean the girl savored this awful waiting game.

Brett made a subtle wave and continued with his pacing.

Kathain shrugged and strode over to the couches.

Nycole sat over Sakaki as the hunter tried to get some sleep, if any. The man tossed and turned fitfully. The redhead brushed her hand over his forehead tenderly, trying to calm him. She looked up just as Kathain gently placed the blanket over the hunter. Haruto's eyes slipped open, looking up and at Kathain.

"How you doing, Sakaki?" she inquired softly, gently.

The man let out a heavy breath. "Can't sleep."

"Want me to help?" Nycole offered.

Sakaki turned on his side under the blanket, burrowing his head into the pillow. "I'm good."

Kathain smiled at her closest friend. "Let him rest. He needs it of his own accord." The girl pulled the edge of the fleece blanket up to Sakaki's neck. "We'll all need it." She rested a knowing gaze upon Nycole. "You should get some sleep, too."

"What have you seen?" the other fairy asked, gingerly tiptoeing around the subject.

"Nothing."

xxxx

Miho Karasuma sat in her car, just down the road from the dark and empty club Nocturne. The hunter's gas gun rested lightly in her lap, loaded and ready for whatever would happen that night.

The sun was setting already, sinking in the distance. The sky burnt a hideous red stain, like blood. A bad omen to say the least. Miho felt her heart sink with the sun as it set. She prayed that the scarlet sky would just fade away, that it wasn't a sign of ill fortune. The empath whispered her prayers.

"Strange night," Doujima finally broke the silence of the stakeout. "You think it's going to be bad?"

Karasuma checked her gas gun for the hundredth time. "I know it's going to be bad."

xxxx

Nocturne opened as if nothing was happening.

The doors swung wide at 10:00 p.m. sharp, just as they had every night since the night club's inception. Nothing was out of the ordinary or out of place. Everything was as it should have been. This was despite the obvious danger of a Solomon assault team arriving. Still, Sakaki knew no assault team would arrive once the doors had opened and thousands of Goths and rivetheads had poured in to dance and revel in the night. Even the mighty Solomon couldn't chance that sort of a media explosion. They were safer then than the club had ever been from Solomon or the STN.

Besides, Nocturne remained as it always had been. A sanctuary. It could not close. Not as long as the group remained true to one another. Nocturne's doors were open to both the Goths of Tokyo and any witches who needed a safe haven to hide, especially from the STN-J.

Precautions, however, were taken.

Nycole and Kathain stayed close to one another, this time in the far back reaches of Purgatory, where Brett could keep an eye on them while the pair performed. As he handed them their toys for the evening, which seemed but long chains, Brett hugged each of the fairies.

"Be careful, you two."

xxxx

Robin drew a deep breath.

It had taken little to no effort to find Nocturne. Now, she and Amon stood in the long line of black clad individuals. Robin whispered a silent prayer that his gas gun and the witch killing bullets would not be found. She glanced around her nervously at the unusually dressed people around her, in black, leather, and studded clothes. Robin thanked whatever god had given her and Amon their distinct taste in clothes with their black coats and her long dress. While their dress was notably different, they could fit in easily.

"Where's Karasuma?" the teenager asked.

Amon didn't even look over his shoulder at the girl practically huddling at his back. "I'm not sure yet."

The young witch bit her lip nervously, but continued on, all the while almost pressed into the former hunter's muscular back. The craft user looked like she was trying to bury herself there, wedged between his shoulder blades. Amon seemed like he was trying to ignore it, to ignore her. He just walked up and into Heaven, into the blue lights of that almost serene hall, and to the ticket counter to buy their entry.

"Two please."

xxxx

Brett sat back and watched.

He kept sharp, eagle eyes on the crowd of Hell, that innermost sanctum of Nocturne. The dancers swayed and bobbed, in time with the music. Brett, however, kept to the outskirts. He glanced this way and that, keeping an eye out for anything unusual.

At first, while the music played, there was nothing.

Then, something caught his eye.

A girl, about halfway across the dance floor in Purgatory. She couldn't have been much older than 16 or 17. Long strands of strawberry blonde to red hair hung from two odd knots on each side of her head. Emerald eyes gazed the crowd just as curiously and keenly as Brett's slate blue eyes. That pale girl, in her demure, long black dress and coat, seemed so out of place. Her innocence screamed from every single one of her features. She moved about nervously, as if scared and unsure of herself, looking this way and that. The stranger somewhat reminded him of a frightened, caged bird.

She turned to her companion and said something Brett couldn't dream of hearing over the loud music.

Brett's eyes went wide when he saw the stranger at the girl's side. The man stood tall and proud, ramrod straight. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, but the man's face told a different story. This man had lived a hard, long life in his short years. He moved about gracefully and surely, almost cockily. This newcomer walked about the dance hall as if he owned the place.

Brett turned to Kristo at the entrance to Hell.

"Let them enter."

Then, Brett spun around, disappearing into the deepest part of Nocturne, into Hell itself.

xxxx

"Amon!"

He turned to face her and shouted back. "What is it?"

"There are witches, all over here," the girl pointed out.

The former hunter gave a slight nod. Robin was right. He could feel it in every inch and fiber of his body. Witches and craft users were about, along with seeds and other less savory individuals. They were outnumbered. Even with the witch killing bullets, Amon had to admit they were probably outgunned, too. Their plans had to change right then and there. He couldn't take the chance of inciting a battle, especially with all the innocent, normal human beings who had just gone for a night of dancing and partying at Nocturne.

"Finish the survey," he instructed confidently, trying to keep Robin calm. Amon gestured to the giant entryway to Hell. "Shall we?"

Robin nodded and steeled herself, but followed close at her partner's side. They slid through the crowd easily. Amon fingered the fake id cards in his pocket, hoping they would be sufficient. His skill and detail were good, but not perfect. They didn't need them. The bouncer with long, ebony hair, just waved them through with a devilish grin.

The girl flinched slightly but kept walking in, into Hell. The dark of the hall sucked her in, but not as much as what she saw. Under the dim lights, the crowd danced and played, but all eyes were up and on the stage. There, two lithe girls with red hair spun and twirled. They whipped about long chains with slight balls of fire on the ends in an intricate sort of ballet. The pair wore matching corsets in a steely black, adorned with white, embroidered griffins and similarly colored black skirts. They moved atop bulky, buckled covered, leather boots and legs clad in fishnet stockings. The pair were seductive, strange, and, yet, fitting.

But that wasn't what had drawn Robin's eyes. She looked behind the performers. Each elegant, diving sweep of the fireballs illuminated the blood marks behind the girls. Teiwaz. Hagalaz. Naudhiz.

It was a warning and curse.

Dare to breach the trust of the sanctuary, and terrible consequences would befall you.

Robin tugged on the elbow of Amon's coat. "We shouldn't be here."

Just as she said that, her eyes went wide. A wave of energy snaked over the crowd, towards the girls on stage. It curled over the partygoers, unnoticed and unseen, visible to Robin alone. The Craft user drew in a sharp breath at the sight of it. Someone's craft, someone's element rushed up to the girls. As the coil hit the chains, fire suddenly flared up, rushing up the lengths of the chains and sending sparks flashing across with snaps and pops. A fire elemental skulked about, somewhere in the shadows.

Robin turned to the source of the energy.

There stood one of the bouncers, in a long, black, floor length coat. Small, square framed glasses rested on his nose, Slate blue eyes studied her in sadistic delight at her terror, from under mussed, short, ebony hair. This was the source of the fire. A fire elemental.

"Amon…."

The former hunter furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Robin lifted a shaking arm, pointing at the figure in the corner. Amon's hand fell under his coat, reaching for the gas gun loaded with witch killing bullets. The gentleman in the corner, as befitting the sleek, trim style of his own jacket, cocked his head to one side as a toothy grin spread across his face, sadistic and gleeful. He bowed low and deep.

And, then, the fire elemental was gone, swallowed up by the crowd and the dark.

"Amon…. Where did he?" Robin breathed.

"We've been spotted," the former hunter noted. "We need to get out of here."

"But…" the girl struggled to form the words. "But what about Sakaki?"

"Now."

xxxx

Ah…. So what's gotten Amon's knickers in a twist? Stay tuned. Yes, me evil.