TOUCHING GOD

Jonas hadn't seen what happened.

No. Only Robin had seen what happened. And, suddenly, the man who had seen just about everything come through the Masquerade, through that bar and club, thought he hadn't seen anything. Jonas thought he understood. Jonas thought he knew. But, then again, people always want to hope such things.

Jonas couldn't imagine what had happened when he saw Kristo, bloodied and stabbed in the back, very literally. Jonas had seen the warrior after battle before, after true, pure combat, but he had never really seen the shadow walker come back without a scratch on him. In fact, the blonde was hard pressed to even recall a time he had ever seen Kristo's blood spilt in any fight.

This time, had been completely different. Blood poured from the deep wound in his back, dripping down and onto the ground. It spilt down his back, soaking through the back of Kristo's black shirt, and glistening a deep scarlet. And, yet, Kristo walked on his own, hunched over slightly in dejection. This was not the walk of a loosing opponent. This was the walk of a warrior still contemplating the battle, still replaying the events that had just occurred, whether victorious or losing.

Kristo brushed past him harshly.

Robin glanced up to Brett, looking at him with worried eyes, but the fire elemental just shrugged. "He'll be ok."

But, somehow, Robin couldn't be sure.

xxxx

Leanna watched them leave.

The man had dragged her into the night, into the darkness its self. He had hauled her body into the shadows, into a deep, dark void of nature. The void of her mind or the void of black and penetrating nothingness? Yet, could nothingness, something of absolute inexistence truly penetrate as it had?

Leanna had never had the time to contemplate such things, nor did she have the time then. In truth, all that mattered was that her target had done it. Only physical tangibility mattered. Her mind reeled, contemplating every possibility. The man obviously brought her somewhere else, or brought somewhere else to her. Witch craft lay within his heart and soul. There was no question about it. And in the girl, the teenager with the fire craft.

The assassin silently sat among the trees. She need not follow them, Leanna only needed to open the doorway in her mind to locate these people in any place or time. The girl could afford to let them slip away.

In truth, Leanna had already known the outcome of the battle before she entered it. Leanna knew it would end in a stalemate of sorts. The precognitive had gone only to see and to send a message. She wanted the witches to be psychologically impacted by the sheer violence and swiftness of her attacks. Leanna wanted the witches to know more about her, to know that she hunted them and that she knew each and every one of their moves before it was ever even contemplated.

Leanna was a bitch like that.

The shadow walker had surprised her in one aspect, however, but it was of little concern. He allowed her to pierce his flesh, to stab her weapon in him. Even then, Leanna glanced down her perch in the tree, holding her boot knife over the verdant, green grass, allowing a single droplet to fall. His blood was evidence of this. The warrior just let her stab him.

Leanna replaced the boot knife, sighing heavily.

No, that wasn't the worst part. This stranger had called her "Kathain." He used this alien name over and over again, swearing to her that she was this person. No. For she was Leanna. Warrior. Assassin. Hunter. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet, and it was a mere detail to the grand scheme of things. Still, if this creature knew anything more about her and her past, he might know things that he could use against her. Leanna had to take that into account.

The girl jumped down easily, leaving any lingering concerns in that tree.

She was an assassin; she had patience. More than that. Leanna had made her mark that night. Now, she had to wait. The trap had been set, the correct bait left in her place.

They would come to her.

xxxx

Brett stalked behind Kristo.

He watched the blood pouring out. The flow had thinned, drastically, probably Kristo gaining control over his bodily functions and slowed his own heartbeat. Kristo had trained for years, honing his skills and learning how to work in conjunction with the way the human body had been structured. It was something Brett had tried to learn, but never truly mastered.

He stared in amazement as the shadow walker accepted the pain and lived with it, walking of his own accord. There was a tale, still flitting about, of Kristo and his time in the military. Somewhere, in some long forgotten village, a spat of houses in the middle of the roughest terrain he had ever seen, Kristo had been shot in the back. It wasn't just the fact that he'd been shot in the back; it was the fact that he had been shot thirteen or fourteen times. There was no chance that the man would be able to make his way back to any semblance of a safe area with those wounds. Nor was there any chance the military would just let him loose if they knew the beaten he'd taken, and doled out in return. Kristo had sat there, in an old, decaying house, sandwiched between two mirrors, reaching behind himself to dig out each and every slug by himself.

Brett had never believed the story. Now, he had proof. The gunshot in Japan, it had been nothing compared to this. This was worse. The assassin had been swift, reaching in and digging about, hunting to do the most damage. And, still, Kristo remained ever composed and quiet, still contemplating a course of action.

It wasn't safe. Not anywhere. Not with this assassin on the prowl. Not if he could cut Kristo and get away with it. Brett hated to admit it, but, if someone could get a strike that bad in on Kristo, they could just as easily cut down the Thirteen without batting an eye.

Brett's silent, peaceful realm of thought was shattered when Robin almost dropped like a stone beside him. The fire elemental reached out, curling an arm around her and catching the teenager. She looked so pale and so tired. And, in truth, after the last forty-eight hours of running on pure adrenaline and nothing more, Brett honestly didn't blame her. In truth, he could have passed out right then, too.

"I'm sorry," the girl whimpered.

Brett shook his head. "We can't keep this up." He glanced up. "Kristo, we need to stop for the night. We need to rest."

"No," the shadow walker growled, not bothering to look back.

The fire elemental flared, feeling his own ancient glory rising within, angry and white hot. "We can't do this anymore."

"We have to." Kristo froze, stiffening.

Nycole felt worry tremble through the group. Not a single one of them had ever heard such quiet venom in the warrior's voice, such deep bass and annoyance. No, not annoyance. Just sharp and keen knowing. Kristo hid something. Something as dark as the shadows within the void and the abyss its self.

Amon couldn't say anything. Niether could Robin. The girl just bit her lip subconsciously. How could anyone utter such darkly and purely evil, vile words. Amon wasn't entire sure what had happened.

"Kristo," Nycole breathed, ever so softly and delicately.

Brett glanced to Robin, but the Craft user just looked away.

Jonas finally grew angry and bitter enough to cry out. "No. You know what? I'm not playing into this bullshit or playing beat around the bush. What in the hell is going on, Kristo?" At first, the swordsman didn't answer, but Jonas snarled louder. "I will leave without a second thought and leave all of you to get fucked… royally."

Kristo knew it was true. Jonas held no loyalty to the Thirteen, no real loyalty to the cause. He had only gone for Kathain, for that innocent little Oracle. Jonas knew her gifts were dangerous, dark, and potent. They were not something to be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. There were just some things that could not happen, no matter how much Jonas didn't want to be involved.

But the Thirteen needed him. And Jonas? He was one of the Thirteen. This was his duty. They needed one another.

Kristo sighed. "It's Kathain."

Nycole looked down. "What's happened to her?"

"She's… not herself," the warrior answered rather flatly and uncaringly. "She was our assassin tonight."

The empath shook her head fiercely. "No. It can't be."

"It was," Kristo argued. "I saw her. I fought her. I know her. She may not know herself, but I know her."

Brett blinked, trying to sort things out mentally. "What happened?"

"I have absolutely no idea." The shadow walker practically laughed at that one. "But it doesn't matter. She's changed sides. She knows all about us, knows about the future, but has no idea who she is." Kristo sighed. "It's the very worst case scenarios."

"Why? Sounds like fun," Jonas sniffed.

Brett shuddered. "Don't you understand?"

Kristo shook his head slowly, solemnly, knowing the full gravity of the situation. "She is touching God."

xxxx

Zaizen was pleased.

Leanna knew not why. He had hungered for the deaths of all witches, especially these. And, yet, with telling him of how she had toyed with them in order to dole a crushing psychological blow, Zaizen seemed tickled pink. He practically beamed with pride and joy at her actions.

"This is absolutely perfect," he had told her.

Leanna wasn't entirely sure, but she didn't care. The girl had come back to warm, dry facilities, and a hot shower to relax her muscles from the fight. She stepped into the scalding water and adjusted it until the shower no longer burnt at her skin. But it felt so utterly relaxing, loosening her muscles. The assassin reached back, massaging her lower back and easing out the knots from the physical exertion.

The feeling of blood of her hands screamed out. That man, with the long black hair. His image flashed through her mind. He was putting an arm around her, and smiling warmly. There were other people, laughing and joking. And that girl with the red hair and the fiery craft, she was speaking with Leanna.

Her hand dropped away.

Leanna cut off the water and stood there, dripping for a moment. She remembered nothing of the time before Zaizen had told her of her name. Amnesia. Yet, there seemed no real cause that she could think of. From the very start, Leanna had known Zaizen lied to her. She just couldn't figure out about what or why.

Her mind slipped away, wondering for a moment.

She drew a towel around her for a moment, drying herself before dropping the thing and slipping into bed. It didn't matter. Leanna needed sleep, needed to recharge her system before anything else happened with these witches.

Leanna closed her eyes slowly.

But dreams would not come.

xxxx

"Hold the mirror higher."

"Of course." Robin whispered the words as she lifted the pane of glass. "Better?"

Kristo gave a sniff of acknowledgement as he prodded at the wound. Raven shook his head slowly, but took a finger to the deep hole. The runemal took a dram of blood and traced long, elegant strokes on Kristo's pale skin. Robin didn't recognize it. But, almost instantly, the blood melted away with a slight sizzle. The steam rose away as the wound sealed. It would be tender, but it wouldn't kill him.

"Thanks, Raven."

The bald man nodded, knowing that Kristo could have probably dealt with the wound himself, but that a little help made it easier.

"What do we do about Kathain?" Amon finally asked.

Kristo gave it a moment thought. "We kick the crap out of her." Nycole frowned and gave the swordsman a harsh slap, but the swordsman just shrugged it off. "And, then, we'll bring her home."

"Much better."

xxxx

Mmm…. Plotting to come.