It was dark, and he knew instinctively that it was not a dream. It was funny, he mused. Unlike most, he'd never had any preconceived ideas about the afterlife. He'd always known better.

And he knew now that he was not dead.

He should be, he knew that too.

But – he couldn't.

There was something he had lost. The creature had been right about that, at least. And he needed to find it.

There was a strange urgency driving him. Something within his soul knew the importance of what he had lost, knew the essential nature of the piece of himself that was mislaid. Only two things were clear.

He had lost himself.

He had to go back to the moment when it had slipped out of his grasp to recover the missing piece.

His brow furrowed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The creature snarled as Gabriel approached. It looked up from the man writhing, naked, in his own blood.

Gabriel could see the man's agony as he came closer. The creature slowly backed away, eyes never leaving him. Yet the hunter's own gaze was fixed on the sufferer, ignoring the creature.

He knelt by the man's side, unaware that he knelt in a pool of blood. One hand reached out to gently stroke the tousled curls. The man groaned, and his eyes cracked open. Misery was painted across his face. "Please," the man whispered, eyes soft and begging. "Please."

Knowing what the man was pleading for, Gabriel nodded slowly. The man relaxed slowly, a brave smile trembling on the corners of his mouth. "It will be quick," Gabriel whispered. "Sleep."

A weapon appeared in his hand, and he plunged it into the man's heart. The body heaved once and relaxed beyond belief. The head lolled, eyes shut, and a small smile rested on his lips.

Gabriel turned and stood, glaring at the creature.

"The Destiny will be mine," it snarled. Gabriel advanced forward, encroaching upon the creature's space. It backed away, fear and defiance shining in its eyes. "You may be the Left Hand, but I am sent by a higher power. The Destiny will be mine!"

"There is no higher power," Gabriel snapped.

With a roar, the creature attacked, and Gabriel met the rush head-on. They were evenly matched, of equal strength in every way. Gabriel knew that he had to finish it. It had gone on for too long, and now – the possibility that the scales would be tipped out of balance loomed. The danger would be too great. Innocence would be wiped from the face of the Earth if ever –

Gabriel gasped.

The creature had pulled a weapon from its white coat. The hunter ignored the wound, calling a weapon to him. A moment later, he was holding a bladed edge of his own. The sword, however, was no match for the creature and he knew it.

The creature snarled, blood dripping from its fingers. Red lines were scored across the thing's body. For all it looked like a man, it couldn't have been more different.

The creature lunged, and Gabriel dodged. In a beautifully precise move, he turned and thrust the flaming object in his hand through the creature's heart.

It laughed. "You cannot defeat me! You have forgotten who you are! You have no power over me!"

Knowing the lies for what they were, Gabriel reached out, reached beyond, to bring the full extent of his power, his being, against this creature.

Pain. Something was wrong. So much pain! What was happening? This was not right!

Gabriel barely had time to realize the attack before consciousness was ripped from him.

- - - - - - - - - -

The frown smoothed from his features.

With clarity came recognition. He knew now what had happened – what should have never happened. But nothing was impossible. He had learned that lesson with blood and agony.

He stretched out, reaching toward the knowledge just beyond his grasp. With an inhuman effort, he extended his entire self towards the clarity that hovered, not quite out of reach.

Realization struck Gabriel, and with that, came remembrance. His name, his identity came flooding back to him, as well as the knowledge of who – what – he really was.

And now he knew why he could not die.

Gabriel reached out, reached beyond . . . .

Carl raised his bowed head when he heard the sound of a breath being released. The tiny noise screamed in the tomblike silence, but he didn't dare to hope.

"Carl?"

The friar started violently, griping the hand in his grasp tightly as he heard the voice. He forced himself to look at his friend's still face – only to have two facts enter his consciousness with the force of a bolt of lightning. The first was that the hand he was clenching so tightly was flexing in return, the flesh warm between his fingers. The second – that Van Helsing was awake, looking at him with clear eyes.

"Holy Mother of God," Carl breathed. "You were dead!"

"Not quite." Van Helsing's eyes sparkled.

Sensing the laughter aimed at him, Carl bristled defensively. "Not breathing. You shouldn't be awake, according to Father Taddeo. As a matter of fact, according to the Vatican healer, even if you did awake – which you are – you couldn't live anyway. Something about punctured lungs."

"Well, the good Father has never had enough faith where I'm concerned."

Carl took in Van Helsing's slight movements with apprehension. "You're not trying to – lie back down!" When he met with resistance after trying to push the presumably weak Gabriel back to the pallet, Carl's eyes widened in shock.

That was all Gabriel needed. Within moments he was up, unwinding the bandage from around his head. The cut there was barely noticeable. Carefully, the hunter probed his ribs, and then grunted in pain – but it was nothing like the agony that had shortened each breath and colored his lips with blood mere hours before.

"I'm thirsty," the admission was made in a soft voice.

Carl started, and then looked a little guilty, before rising and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway, and wouldn't move until he extracted a promise from Gabriel to lie back down. Which the hunter did for approximately one minute before standing and also heading out the door.

By the time he reached his rooms, confident that no one had followed – or preceeded him – to the hidden chambers, he was carrying the remainder of his bandages. The wounds were healed, the bruises themselves fading away.

Gabriel frowned.

His dream had been vivid, but even now the images were slipping away from him, despite all his efforts to retain them. The impressions were all that was left. Darkness, pain – then, an awesome power beyond anything even he could comprehend. Yet, somehow, that power was within his grasp, enveloping him. He just . . . couldn't reach –

The door opened slowly, and Gabriel moved quickly to the trunk at the foot of his bed, heedless of the pitch darkness in the room. In silence and blackness, he dressed. Moving carefully around the room, he grimaced as he realized that in typical Carl fashion, the friar had picked up several items, carried them around the room, and deposited them elsewhere on shelves. Amused that so intelligent a man was, at times, incredibly scattered, Van Helsing continued to arm himself, resolving to double-check all weapons once he was in the lighted passages.

Finally finished, he closed the door and made his way back to the passages. He saw the light far before he heard them approaching, though Carl's voice echoed through the corridors. "I'm almost certain he would have headed this way, Cardinal," the friar panted.

Gabriel grinned. Apparently his absence had been discovered. Now, though – questions would be asked and answered. The hunter frowned, and that was how they found him.

"Van Helsing." The cardinal was angry, and openly confused. "What is going on?"

"The time has not yet come." Gabriel refused to discuss the matter here, though it was probably the most secure location in Vatican City.

"The hell it hasn't!" Carl burst out.

Jinette raised a brow but declined commenting about the friar's breach of etiquette, keeping his attention riveted to the now-healed hunter.

"I can think of no better time or place for you to explain these . . . unusual events," Jinette riposted smoothly. Underlying his control, however, was an inexplicable tinge of fear. Any other man would be long-dead, his last breath leaving him hours before. This man, however, was awake and, if appearances could be believed, fully healthy. The knowledge that something supernatural, and evil, was at work dangled in the back of the Cardinal's mind – and Gabriel knew it full well. He felt an unexplainable sadness, as if something had come to an end. But he did not know what, or why.

The hunter frowned. He was unusually taciturn of late, but that ended now. "There is a demon loose," he said bluntly. "The man in white is a minion of evil."

"Aren't all the creatures we pursue?" Jinette demanded.

Van Helsing began walking toward the false wall that would lead to the man complex. " 'The stars are bright still, though the brightest fell.'" He repeated his words to the creature, musing on the meaning.

"Shakespeare?" Carl was puzzling out the phrase.

"The poet spoke of Lucifer," Van Helsing was emphatic about this point. "The light-bringer. One of the sons of God."

"What in the Lord's name do you mean?" The horror of the two clergy was apparent, shining brightly out of Jinette's eyes. Carl was only slightly more composed.

"We're not facing one of the Fallen," Gabriel was swift to reassure. "He is in a prison of his own making, where he is condemned to stay beyond the ending of the world. I speak of his followers, and those of lesser wickedness."

"Lord have mercy," murmured Jinette.

"Amen," Carl breathed.

Gabriel's face, however, was grim.

Noting the unyielding countenance, Carl's eyes widened. "Van Helsing, what happened last night? You fought the creature?"

The hunter shrugged. "I sought out the creature. I believe it was from this evil that I was running when you discovered me on the steps of the Vatican years ago," he informed Jinette.

"You have fought this evil before and lived?"

Gabriel scowled. "Many times." He heard the words before he knew what he was saying, and the hunter pulled up short in shock. "I can't remember!" The words were hurled from his lips. Losing his anger, Van Helsing leant against the wall, breathing deeply.

Carl and Jinette were looking at him, a combination of shock and fear playing across their features. There was less fear than worry in the friar's blue eyes, however.

Rubbing his forehead tiredly, the hunter murmured, "Some things are better off forgotten." A bitter laugh was squeezed from him.

"Van Helsing?"

The hunter straightened, shaking off the despair shrouding him. "There is something I cannot remember," he said. "Something that I came close to remembering last night." Reaching the sliding wall, he kicked the stone, and then replaced it as the others followed him into the lit passageway.

Carl's eyes narrowed, and then unhappiness passed through them as he realized what the hunter meant. "You came closer to death than you will admit," he pressed.

Gabriel was quiet, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two other men. His life had been in the hands of either at more than one point in the past few years. "I died." The admission was made quietly.

"How is this possible?" The Cardinal did not doubt his word for one minute, though his step faltered.

Gabriel frowned. "There is nothing evil about this resurrection," he assured the worried man. "I may not remember much, but I know this. For a short moment, I remembered something. But it was like a dream – and slipped away as I woke."

Gabriel shook his head. "The creature believed this to be a source of great amusement." His voice was biting, dry. "It does not believe me to a match for its skills as I am."

"Perhaps it thinks to discourage you," Carl suggested.

The hunter snorted. "It was toying with me, Carl. As it fought me, I could tell. It was not really trying. I think it seeks to use us to find the Holy Lance."

Jinette sucked in a breath. Carl, noting the Cardinal's shock, quickly filled in the older man on what they had discovered thus far, and what they believed the creature's goal to be.

"All those men," Jinette murmured in horror. "Dead simply to discover the location of the Spear."

"No." Gabriel was certain on that point. "The creature visited only locations where the Spear was rumored to be. It did not search randomly - it was tracing a trail. Those men were killed for sport."

They had finally reached Jinette's quarters. Inside these rooms was another entrance to the subterranean part of Vatican City, and the laboratory. Without another word passing between them, the three men entered the chambers, and Carl and Van Helsing followed Jinette as he pushed aside a tall armoire to reveal a door. The locks were opened, and the three started down the stairs.

Something was wrong – Van Helsing knew that before his foot touched the first step. "Stop!" The command froze the two men in their tracks.

"What?" Carl asked.

Van Helsing put out his arm, moving to take the lead. He slipped a rotating blade from its holster in his sleeve. The taint of evil was so faint he knew the creature had not been here, but something was not right.

"'You sought sanctuary, did you not? You sought the one place I could not enter'," the hunter breathed, his intonation taking on a terrible resonance. "He has entrance now," Gabriel continued, voice grim.

Moving quickly, Van Helsing led them down the stairs. The feeling of something amiss grew stronger, and the unnatural silence made them hear the sound of their own footfalls, gradually speeding until they were practically racing down the stairs, rushing towards –

The scene that greeted them was a disaster. The smell they had barely noticed on the stairs assaulted them full-force. It was the stench of smoke, and death.

The lab had been destroyed, that night. Shattered wood and glass covered the stone floor. Tables had been broken or overturned, experiments dismantled in the most damaging way possible. In places, the cobbles which composed the floor of the catacombs had been crushed to powder. The air was heavy with the smell of chemicals and blood. With only a few members of the Order on duty, not many were dead. But there were bodies in evidence, eyes glassy and staring, throats slit viciously.

Van Helsing turned to Jinetted, his dark eyes haunted and sorrowful. "Someone has betrayed us."

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(wicked grin) ok, ok, so I'm not that evil. I'm thrilled though, that I received a bit of a response on this. I'm working my brain cells into the ground, here. :) My readers are impassioned, and I'm ecstatic! You saw how well your reviews received a response. I was, quite frankly, inspired. So . . . hit the button, send a review, and play Muse!