Connor entered the backstage entrance of the Montecito amphitheater. It had taken him a while, but he'd managed to put the puzzle pieces together. Ridiculous as it might sound, but it wasn't until he caught a repeat of "The Usual Suspects" on cable, that he realized just how suspicious Lorne's survival had been. Everyone else ends up dead, but he walks away without a scratch? Connor thought. Something's wrong with that scenario.

Once he started thinking along those lines, everything fell into place. Connor had spent the next several months researching Pylea, the Deathwok clan's abilities and ambitions, and Lorne's activities over the last few years and came to the conclusion that the whole "good demon" had been a cover. I was right about him, Connor had thought bitterly. I should have taken him out when I had the chance.

Connor crept quietly towards Lorne. Just as Lorne was about to go on stage, Connor struck. After his work was done, he used his supernatural agility to leap up onto the rafters. He watched the stagehands, paramedics and various casino security officers rushing around frantically with amusement.

(Much later, a baffled security team would use every high-tech means to discover what had happened to no avail. The cameras merely showed a blur for several minutes, then only the gruesome sight of Lorne lying in pieces. The security team had no way of knowing that Connor had used magic to make himself invisible to surveillance equipment.)

Finally, the commotion died down. Connor jumped to the floor and nonchalantly strolled out of the casino. Okay, I've avenged my dad, so what do I do with my life now? I can't go back to being a regular college student, not after all this, he thought.

I know, I'll go to London and offer my services to the Watcher's Council. Dad would have liked that. And while I'm there, I'll look up that hot brunette slayer, he thought, smiling. Sure, she's got a few years on me, but I've always liked older women.

The End.