Damn, but it's good to get out, Schuldich mused as he stepped up onto the curb, stretching and shaking out his hair. Hot, but good. Being cooped up in that apartment with the witch and Crawford was wearing on his nerves, and being let out only to accompany Takatori was even more frustrating. The One might attack him while he was alone like this, just one telepath against however many minions they summoned to take him down, but he was feeling powerful and glorious and devil-may-care, so he had decided not to give a shit and now here he was, hunting down a bar where he could grab something to drink and wait around until the nightclubs opened. He pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the cool darkness. He found a corner table and ordered something relatively weak; after all, the night was still young. Lounging in his seat, he watched the people enter and leave, slipping his mind into their minds with the skill of long practice and amusing himself with all their petty little hopes and tragedies.

The entrance of a serene mind put a fast halt on his game, and he straightened.

Cross.

The redhead didn't appear to have seen him. It could be coincidence, especially considering that this bar wasn't far from the club where Schuldich had first met Cross. For a moment, he debated. He hated encounters with previous one-night-stands, because quite a few of them seemed to think they were entitled to a follow-up, and he was no one's bitch. However, Cross didn't seem like the type to beg him for another round, or beg for ANYTHING for that matter. His patience had held even though Schu had tried his damnedest to tease him, an activity which had been immensely satisfying even if Cross didn't actually stoop to begging. And, Schu discovered, Cross had shown remarkable skill in teasing him right back… all right, maybe a second encounter wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Yo, Kreuz," he whispered, sending the greeting brushing across Cross's mind. Cross turned, tilted his head, and lit up in one of the warmest grins Schu had ever seen directed at him.

"Hey Schu," he called, then proceeded to sit down at the bar and order himself a beer.

Schu was slightly surprised, but also a bit relieved. "You're welcome to come over and sit, you know," he called, just barely raising his voice.

Cross held up a finger… one moment, please. Once he'd taken a drink of his beer, he obligingly slid of his stool and slid into the seat across from Schu. "I wasn't sure you'd want me to intrude," he said honestly. "One night stands are just that…"

"Believe me, I know," Schu purred. "And normally, I don't want to be intruded upon. But after a night like that, I just couldn't bring myself to NOT say hello."

Cross smirked and Schu felt his thoughts turn deep, erotic red with the memory. So, the other redhead had enjoyed himself just as much… excellent. Schu felt a deadly grin slide across his face and he crossed his legs, fingers meandering over to Cross's knuckles. His hands were calloused, and STRONG… so nice to feel sliding over his body…

"Careful, Schu, you're drooling," Cross teased gently, and Schu rolled his eyes.

"Well, who wouldn't be? I don't suppose there's any chance of getting you into bed again?"

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" Cross chuckled. "I'm actually pretty lenient in that regard. As long as you don't expect anything other than sex and maybe friendship, you can have sex in abundance."

"That won't work with most people," Schuldich pointed out.

"But it would work with you."

"That it would. Your place or mine?"

Cross burst into laughter. "You can't be that desperate," he challenged.

"I'm not. Are you?"

"Of course not."

"So…?"

He sighed. "So it'll have to be either your place or neutral ground. I have guests."

Schuldich grinned in triumph. "Hotel it is."

"This is going to become a habit, isn't it?" Cross mused dryly as they left the bar together.

Schuldich laughed. "Doubtful. I'm not staying in New York forever. But while I'm here, I might as well enjoy the local scenery, don't you think?"

He smirked. "In that… we wholeheartedly agree."

X-X-X

"This is fucking idiotic and I don't like it," Jordan muttered as she crouched on the lip of the roof of an apartment building, watching Fell slide through the crowd below. "This is a stupid plan. Who the fuck coordinated this, anyway? 'Split up and surround'? What the fucking hell? We'll get picked off like this and that bastard knows it…."

"Cool it, baby," Griss advised, gravel scraping under his feet as he followed Fell's path. "Ain't nobody alone anyway, and you know how Fell fuckin' hates to have his space invaded. 'Sides, all together we'd stick out like a gringo in La Madre Nadia."

"Right, and rooftop surveillance is SO much better," She returned sarcastically, scrambling to catch up. "If somebody sees us, we're SO fuckin' dead…."

Griss showed her his teeth. "If somebody wants to be all up in MY face about it they'd better have a fuckin' will 'n testament."

She smirked back at him, then glanced across the street. "Snowflake?"

"Hell, if we could see her, I'd be fuckin' disappointed. She prolly ain't there, though… crowd's better for her."

"Crowd'd be better for us if we could tail worth a damn," she proposed cheerfully. "Not that I'd chase Fell's tail in half a million…."

I found something.

Jordan sucked in a breath in surprise and made a mental note to smack Fell once she was within range. Found what?

In lieu of a reply, he filled her head with a cold, insectile buzzing that made her rub her ears and glare in irritation at the back of his head. It's below us and to the south.

Jordan shared a glance with Griss, two sets of black eyes narrowing even as they smoldered with violence. The One… if not the core, than an arm, at least, was housed nearby.

How many? Griss demanded, and even his mental voice was a growl.

Hell if I know. All the non-psis in the area are fucking up my reception. Which is probably why we haven't been able to find them before, if I had to hazard a guess. Not to mention the fact that nobody thought to comb the area with a telepath.

Conceited bastard, Jordan thought, and she didn't care if Fell heard it. Let's take it in closer.

I will take it in closer, Fell corrected. You three stay back. I can hide my presence in the minds of these people, but you can't. You'll stand out like beacons.

And if we stay back and they attack you…. Griss reasoned.

I'll enjoy the slaughter.

Jordan rolled her eyes and shrugged, and Griss nodded. A'ight, you're on your own. But remember what Sab said and don't try to absorb….

Please. Trying to eat one of these weaklings would be like snacking on cardboard. They've got nothing that would satisfy me.

With that, Fell picked up his pace as Jordan and Griss pulled to a stop, watching his dark and slender form fade into the distance. Griss made an irritated sound and looked over the edge of the roof, trying once again to spot Katerina and failing.

"Prick," Jordan muttered, and he turned to smirk at her. She was scowling, but her features were far too petite to correctly accommodate her ire, and thus it looked more like a pout. An adorable one, at that.

"Chill," he advised, fingers tightening imperceptibly on the brick ledge. "He can handle himself."

"He don't know what he's dealin' with anymore than we do," she shot back, curling her upper lip in a vague snarl. "S'a fuckin' show-boat, good for nothin'…."

"He's a telepath. His mind's fucked up. No reason for you to sweat it, 'less you like 'im a little more'n you want anybody to know."

"Don't make me come after you," she threatened, and he laughed.

"Fire and stone? Sounds like an 'End of the World' movie. You could get Kevin Costner to lead…."

"Why, so you could stare at his ass?"

His eyes flashed. "FUCK, it's on now…" He pounced her and she scrambled out of the way, laughing and swinging around to tackle him. They went down in a flurry of gravel, rolling and tussling until he finally managed to slam her shoulders into the roof. "One," he taunted. "Two. Thr…."

She lurched upward and twisted, and he fought to stay on.

"FUCK. Stay down… One, t…."

We've got a problem, Fell's mental voice declared, just before the sidewalk about two blocks ahead of where they were exploded.

They didn't see it, but their wrestling match was instantly forgotten as they scrambled to the edge of the roof just in time to see chunks of concrete and metal tubing raining down upon the unprotected heads of the crowd. Those who were hit fell where they stood.

"Holy shit," Griss murmured. "What the fucking HELL..?"

"THERE," Jordan growled, pointing. Fell was sprinting back toward them, in an all-out, run-for-your-life-there's-a-monster-behind-you dash. He was gripping one shoulder with the opposite hand and that arm hung useless at his side. And lumbering after him….

"Jesus FUCK. What IS that?" Jordan demanded, poised to leap from the roof despite the distance she'd fall.

"Fuckin' Resident Evil shit," Griss snarled, bolting toward another edge of the building where the metal rungs of a fire escape waited. Grabbing the arching bars, he jumped and clapped the insides of his feet together on the outsides of the bars, sliding down several stories to the ground. He leaped the last five feet, going into a rolling tuck even as Jordan came down where he'd landed, and rubbing his thumbs against his raw palms. "Don't know what the fuck it is… but take it OUT."

She simply nodded, hands curling into fists as they charged out from between buildings.

Fell bolted past them, silken hair flying. "Retreat, NOW!" he commanded, and Griss and Jordan fell in behind him, watching as screaming humans fled the scene. Coming after them was a behemoth, a truly monstrous entity. It might have been a biokinetic once, but it had been transformed into the ultimate war machine, a hulking, over-muscled parody of a human being. Its head was nearly lost in the coils of its neck and its mammoth biceps were at least as thick around as Griss's shoulders. Its body was highly imbalanced; one arm was noticeably slimmer than the other, with long fingers that ended in bone talons, while the other made a many-veined fist. One leg was also longer than the other, so it lumbered at a crazy tilt, drool swinging from its slack-jawed mouth. It made guttural sounds of rage, but there was no emotion in its empty eyes – eyes that reflected the light, like a predator's. Katerina melted out of thin air to help Fell along and use what minor healing abilities she possessed, and Jordan and Griss brought up the rear. Griss picked up a fallen pipe, hands molding it frantically as they went. The chunk of cement at the end of it became a serviceable club with a decent amount of play.

The behemoth, with its longer strides, closed on them.

"S'gaining," Griss snarled. "Katerina! Get Fell out of here and report back! Me and J.'ll handle this motherfucker…"

Katerina nodded crisply and hurried Fell off. The telepath sent back one final warning. Its touch will rot your skin. Don't let it hit you!

Griss chuckled ferally, then turned to greet Jordan's grim expression.

"We can't take this shit," she said matter-of-factly, and he shrugged, knowing damned well that it didn't matter if they could take it or not. They WERE taking it on – that was the only important thing.

"Then we go down fighting," he said as though it was something he did every day. "Hey, J.?"

"If you're gonna give me some sappy goodbye shit, fuckin' save it," she snapped. "You'll regret it later."

"Ain't never gonna regret this. Love you."

She let out a frustrated sigh and spat on the ground. "Right. Love you too, asshole. Now, can we fucking get down to business?" Her small, knotted fists burst into dark red flames.

Griss just smirked at the approaching creature. The ground shook under his feet from its footsteps and then a string of drool splattered his shoulder, it was so close. "S'right, motherfucker, bring it on…. Got one Inconnu-style ass-kickin', ready to deliver."

And then they clashed.

X-X-X

Nagi looked up in solemn curiosity as frantic, loud pounding on the apartment door vibrated the walls around him. Sabbath's head shot up and Farfarello's gaze swiveled to pinpoint the door. All three of them had been lounging in the living room, Sabbath reading on the couch, Farf on the windowsill staring out, and Nagi on his laptop. No one else was home, so it was after a momentary pause that Nagi put his computer down and rose to answer the door. It was nearly beat off its hinges in the meantime, and Farf flicked his fingers, a slender, double-edged blade appearing in his palm.

Sabbath yelped suddenly and gripped her head, doubling over so quickly that her forehead smacked into the coffee table. Nagi glanced back in concern and she gasped. "Get the door!"

Now utterly confused, he opened it cautiously… or tried to. It fell in under the weight of a slender boy with raven-black hair, and Nagi grabbed for him just as his companion did, causing them to rap their foreheads together solidly. "OW!' Nagi complained, falling back even as the woman caught her breath and murmured, "Excuse me!" Then she bent to pick up her hyperventilating, dark-haired friend.

Nagi hustled them into the apartment and slammed the door. "Who are you?" he wondered aloud, but Sabbath answered that question for him.

"Katerina? Fell? What happened?"

Katerina, with utter composure, raised ice-blue eyes to meet Sabbath's almost-black ones. "Griss and Jordan are dead," she said calmly. "We found The One. Perhaps you should turn on the local news."

Sabbath froze on the first sentence, a muscle in her jaw standing out even though her face didn't change. When she didn't move for a long moment, Nagi politely helped Fell to the couch and Farfarello slid off the windowsill, crouching to turn on the television.

"…Graphic scene in the West End today, as what appears to be a gas main explosion was followed by a firefight of mythic proportions. Witnesses claim to have seen a creature at least two stories tall and grossly disfigured fighting street gang members. This may sound like an episode of The Twilight Zone, but it is not; behind me, you can see several FBI agents standing around the body of the creature. Was it a grotesque, human experiment? A new weapon of war? A super-soldier? At this time, no explanation is clear. Casualties are high tonight, both of civilians, the two gang members, and the creature itself."

"Griss and Jordan," Fell explained. His voice was tight and it was obvious that he was holding back great pain. Katerina sat down quietly on the couch. "I told them to retreat… they stayed behind… to give us time. We found them, Sab, we found The One…. Sab? SAB!"

"Leave her alone!" Nagi protested. "You just told her two of her friends are dead!"

"Yes," Fell hissed, black eyes narrowing, "And I ALSO just told her that we found the people we've been looking for. We can end this, NOW. We can wipe them out, but not if our witch is catatonic." He glared at Sabbath, hard, and Nagi recognized the look of intense concentration.

Sabbath blinked and made a dull moaning noise, body shaking back and forth as if someone was wringing her neck. It was Fell, though, wringing her mind and forcing her to return to the present.

"Wake up," he growled. "Get it together or we'll ALL die."

She looked irritated and drew in a slow breath, composing herself. Then she glanced at the TV screen. "I'm going." Scarcely had the words left her mouth but she was pulling her leather jacket off the back of a kitchen chair and heading for the door.

"What?" Fell demanded. "Going where? You CAN'T go there, there's cops all over it and The One is nearby. That's a glaring ELEVEN on a one-to-ten scale of high-risk areas, Sab. NO."

"I didn't ask your permission, did I?" She reached for the door handle.

Nagi didn't see a choice. He froze her. "Please, Sabbath, you can't go there," he said quietly, padding over to where she struggled violently to escape his telekinetic hold. "It's dangerous. And you heard the reports; they're dead. You can't help them."

"Let go of me," she growled.

"You have to LISTEN to me first. We can't take risks with your life. We have to get this information to Crawford and find Schuldich and assemble the people we've got and THEN we can chase them, but not just us. Not if they really do have some huge monster-thing."

"Let… me… go!" Sabbath snarled and flailed against his bonds, and Nagi sighed. She was implacable.

X-X-X

Farfarello watched the entire scene in silence, fingering the edge of the blade he'd drawn. He knew these Inconnu and they would not threaten anyone currently under his charge. Not solemn, beautiful Katerina, who's sadness did not show except in the tone of her skin, making her appear a pale ghost seated next to Fell's raging darkness. The black-haired telepath was obviously in a pique but too injured to make much of it. Farfarello's nose detected a slight hint of rot – very specific rot, gangrenous rot. Now, what could have caused that?

He shook his head, padded forward, and tapped Nagi on the shoulder. The boy was trying valiantly to keep this situation under control, but Sabbath was refusing to be placated, and she was as stubborn as stubborn could be. Nothing Nagi said would make a difference. He could either hold her there until doomsday, or give her what she wanted.

"Release her," he instructed the boy. "I will take her."

"Not by yourselves, you won't. If there WAS a creature, that's a biokinetic at work, and one of those almost killed both of you!"

"Then come with us," Farf said flatly. He walked past Nagi and stood in front of Sabbath. "We will call Crawford," he told her, "And then we will go. Satisfactory?"

"… Fine," she ground out reluctantly, and Nagi released his hold on her. She stumbled, but pulled herself together quickly as Farfarello handed Nagi the phone.

Nagi sighed and dialed, and Farfarello eyed Katerina. "Stay here. You will be watched-over," he told them absently, then slipped away to arm himself.

Katerina simply nodded, and Fell glared. "You can't do any good," he spat. "We have to organize an offensive."

Sabbath didn't seem to hear him.

"Leave her alone," Nagi repeated quietly, picking up the cell phone and dialed Crawford's number, only to find that the Oracle had turned off his phone. Sighing, he instead dialed Schuldich. The redhead picked up after about the fourteenth ring, sounding snappish and irritable.

"What?"

"Schu, it's Nagi."

He heard a sigh and then in a duller tone, Schu demanded, "What do you want?"

"I can't get into contact with Brad. I assume he's busy. Two of the Inconnu are here and something big just went down in Bronx. We think two of Sabbath's other friends are dead, but the ones who are here know where The One is. Sabbath is insisting on going to the Bronx to see what happened, and she can't go alone, and I think I should go too, which means somebody needs to be here to keep an eye on the Inconnu and make sure they're safe."

"Crawford's too busy to babysit," Schuldich told him after a moment's pause. He yawned, then groaned. "I guess I'll be there momentarily. They'd better behave themselves, though. My good mood's been spoiled enough."

Nagi refrained from asking what Schu had been doing. "Thank you. We'll probably have left by the time you get here. Sabbath isn't being entirely reasonable, so please hurry." He hung up before Schuldich could berate him for the request and wandered back to the cradle to replace the phone.

Katerina had managed to pry Fell's fingers off of his wound and he was glaring mildly at her as she inspected it. Curious, Nagi took a look as well and curled a lip in disgust. The flesh of Fell's shoulder was black and oozing yellow –gray puss, rotted through like old wood and literally dripping brown ooze. It stank too, and Nagi scrupulously backed away as Katerina pressed her delicate hands to the wound and bowed her head in concentration. "It will scar," she said quietly. "But I think I can repair most of the damage. But we will have to cut the rot away before I can. It won't hurt; the nerves in the rotted flesh are dead already."

"I don't care. Do what you have to."

Katerina nodded and stood. "Forgive my imposition," she said politely to Nagi, who was relieved that SOMEBODY here had some manners. "But is there a cutlery set I could borrow? Or better yet, a medical scalpel?"

Nagi nodded. "I have a first aid kit with some equipment in it… mostly for extracting bullets, but it might be useful. I'll get it for you," he offered.

She nodded. "Domo arigato gozaimasu."

He smiled shyly at her. "Doitashimashite…." Moving off to find the first aid kit, he wondered briefly how many Americans spoke a modicum of Japanese. He brought the kit back and she thanked him, dragging Fell into the kitchen so that clean-up would be easier. He made it most of the way before collapsing on a chair and Nagi assumed from the way he was moving that he had a leg wound. Turning, he met Farfarello just as the Irishman was emerging from his room, casually dressed, with his usual dozen weapons scattered around his torso.

"Let's go," the Irishman said shortly, and Sabbath pushed off of the wall and threw the door open, vanishing into the hall. Nagi wanted to say something polite to the two Inconnu in the kitchen but knew that if he did, he'd lose his escort. So instead, he closed and locked the door and prayed that Schu wouldn't take long to get home.

They took the subway and rode in silence. Sabbath, usually always in some sort of motion, was utterly still. Her eyes were focused on a spot a few feet in front of her face, regardless of what was or wasn't there, and while Nagi was deeply concerned, Farfarello seemed to take it in stride. He was watching her like a hawk, though Nagi didn't know what he expected to happen to her with the two of them there. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure she didn't descend so far into her own mind that she'd never escape. Once they arrived in the proper district and left the subway station, Nagi realized how futile an outing this was. The area was filled with police and the press, cordoned off with yellow tape, and humming with activity. The street was a massive pit at one end of the block, and there were splatters of dried blood across the cement at the other end. Sabbath gravitated toward those, walking faster and faster, and finally breaking into a run. Nagi started to bolt after her, but Farf caught his jacket and stopped him. Following at their own pace, they rounded a car just as she ducked under the yellow tape, drawing the attention of several police officers who called to her to leave the crime scene alone. She ignored them, focused utterly on the debris of a human body pulverized to the point of being unrecognizable – a corpse not yet taken away by the forensics team.

The sight sickened Nagi deeply, and he had seen the remains of some of FARF'S playthings. This wasn't a body, it was… it was a smear of fluids and organs with flies buzzing around it, gleefully feasting on the slowly fermenting carnage. Gore and grime. The skull was crushed and grayish brain matter streaked across a three-foot swipe of asphalt. The torso was missing a large chunk, fragmented rib bones protruding from a mess of organs as the crushed pelvis distorted the frame even further. And the left arm had been torn off just above the elbow. No telling whether this creature had been male or female, until Sabbath fell to her knees in the puddle of gore and let out a feral wail.

"Griss… oh my GODDESS…."

Nagi felt Farfarello go still at his side and he looked up. "Who is it?"

"Someone I respected," was the Irishman's only response, golden eye trained on Sabbath as several police officers moved in and tried to pry Sabbath off the corpse. She wasn't cooperating, huddling in a heap over the body, screaming, sobbing wildly, and beating on the ground with her fists. In other words, she was having a hysterical fit, and Nagi brushed Farf's hand aside and surged forward, pushing through the gathering officials, with his mind when necessary. He sensed, rather than saw, Farfarello on his heels, and they shouldered their way through the group of cops. Nagi was stopped by one policeman who demanded what his business was, and as he was trying to explain to the man that this was his friend and it was her 'brother' smeared across the pavement, Farfarello got to Sabbath, took her by the shoulders, and roughly manhandled her away from the corpse. Blood covered her, along with other, less savory materials, and caked her hands. Those hands curled into fists and pressed against her temples as she screamed from her toes, not a high-pitched girly scream, but a scratchy and full-throated vocalization that managed to rock the entire block's worth of people back on their heels.

Hate. Pain. Rage. Despair. Longing. Devastation. Sadness. Destruction. Violence. Nagi's heart skipped in his chest and he saw Farf sit back, looking mildly drunken as Sabbath's body arched away from his and she screamed again, ending in a choked sob and collapsing into an undignified heap in Farfarello's lap, rubbing the gore on her hands into her face and hair and shaking as she hyperventilated. The police recovered and began to demand that they move, and so Nagi mentally propelled them up, and Farf didn't protest. He gathered Sabbath, who's eyes suddenly snapped open. She kicked, struggled, and slammed a fist into his face.

"NO! JORDAN!" Twisting like a cat, she almost got away from him, but then he dropped her on her hands and hip, reached down, took a handful of her shirt, and slapped her soundly across the face.

The blow knocked her a few feet across the concrete and she curled up, whimpering, fingers tearing hair from her head as they twisted and knotted. Her wails cut straight to Nagi's heart… god, she must be hurting.

It had been a sunny day, but the sky, he realized as he brushed at his skin where goosebumps had just risen, had turned black with clouds.

He didn't see Farfarello picking Sabbath up and carrying her now-compliant body back to the sidewalk, away from the crime zone. He didn't hear himself explaining over and over to the police that the human remains on the sidewalk belonged to Sabbath's 'half-brother', thus her hysterical reaction. He didn't feel the rain as it began to pelt him and wash away the evidence of the crime and the thick, heavy stench of death. He was locked away in some little corner of his mind, hiding from this, while long hours of emulating Crawford took over and he managed to smooth things over with the police. They were suspicious. Of course they were. They asked if they could question Sabbath about her 'brother'. They asked about parents. Nagi made up whatever seemed appropriate and told them they could question Sabbath if and when she calmed down enough to submit to it. He wandered back to Farfarello and found him hidden away in an alley, behind a pile of garbage bags, seated in a puddle and curled around Sabbath, who was still violently weeping. Blood covered his cheek, which was resting against her hair, which he was petting as he spoke to her in rapid, melodic tones. Lost, not really knowing WHAT to do, Nagi carefully sat down on the other side of her on the wet cement and leaned against her back, head on Farfarello's arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't think she heard him. He didn't think she was seeing or hearing any better than he was. It continued to storm and all three of them were quickly soaked to the bone, and they just sat there, the three of them, wet and huddled together and locked inside their own minds where there was no help for any of them.

X-X-X