AN: Sorry for the delay – I got really, really busy this past month with all kinds of things.…

Angel and Demon

"Jeannie," Logan cried, falling to his knees beside her. He wiped some of the metallic liquid off of her face, and saw that it had taken a strip of her scalp. The force from the shot had rocked her brain around, knocking her out. But, he could tell that she was already starting to heal; it would only take a few minute for her to get back on her feet.

"What happened," Michael asked, stepping quickly out of the cabin, and crouching down next to Jean.

"She was shot," Logan replied testily. As if on cue, another bullet whizzed past him, so close, he felt the air it displaced. Without so much as a thought, he turned, and reached out his hand, creating a TK shield. A flurry of bullets suddenly collided with the shield, the sound more than a little reminiscent of heavy rain on a metal roof. Logan noted wryly that none of the bullets were aimed at him.

"What the hell's going on," Michael exclaimed. His eyes were wide with the shocking realization that all that had stopped the bullets was a shield made of nothing more than energy.

"You were followed," Logan snarled, glaring at the other man out of the corner of his eye. He nodded towards Jean. "Get her inside."

"What," Michael asked, drawing his brows. "How?"

"Maybe ya didn't lose 'em like you thought ya did," Logan growled. "Now, get Jean inside, and stay low."

"Wait," Michael yelled, dragging Jean over the threshold. "What are you gonna do?" As Logan turned towards him, his eyes alight, Michael happened to notice with an odd sense of detachment that his canines were longer than what they should have been. He wondered if he really was human.

"What I'm best at," Logan replied, lowering his hand, and running into the night.

"What just happened," Selene asked, as Michael closed the door.

"I think," he began slowly, "I think she was just shot in the head."

"Then, she should be dead. Even the Elders would have been killed by a bullet to the head."

"I know," Michael replied, cleaning Jean's face. He noticed, with shock, that what he had originally taken as colloidal silver on her scalp was actually a part of her skull. "I think her bones might be metal-plated." He motioned for her to come over, pointing at the ragged edge of Jean's scalp.

"How could that happen," Selene asked, her brows drawn together.

"I'm not sure," Michael confessed.

Selene looked up from where Michael was crouching, and looking around, realized someone wasn't there. "Where's Logan?"

"He …," Michael began, "he ran into the forest."

"You let him go alone?"

"I don't think I would have been able to stop him," Michael replied.

"No," Selene agreed. She turned on her heels, and started towards the door.

"What are you doing," he asked.

"I'm going to help him," she replied. "We got them into this. The least we should do is help them."

"Let me go," Michael said resolutely.

"No," Selene responded. "You're the only doctor here, and she might need your help." And with that, she turned, and walked out the door.

- - - -

Selene stepped carefully outside of the cabin, eyeing the tree line. She slowly moved off the porch, expecting almost anything. Suddenly, above her head, she heard a loud splintering. Half-turning, she saw a luminescent blue gel oozing out of one of wooden beams supporting the porch. Without a second thought, she leapt off the ground, and started running at full tilt. Almost as if from another world, she heard her feet crunching through the snow, and odd, quick tugs on her coat.

She ran into the forest, leaning against a tree several hundred feet past the tree line. She sighed, relieved she'd gotten past the open area. She examined her coat, curious as to what the tugs had been. She took in a sharp breath, finding that the tugs had been bullets hitting the tails of her coat. She realized that, had she run just a little slower, she would have been nothing but ash.

Forcing herself to calm down, she looked down to the ground beneath her, realizing she hadn't followed Logan's trail into the forest. "Damn," she muttered softly, looking at her surroundings. From what she had seen, Logan knew a thing or two about combat. That being a given, she thought that he would probably take out the Death Dealers (she had no doubt that was who she was dealing with) quickly, and quietly. And, he would probably take out those that posed the greatest threat first.

With that, she turned to her left, taking out of one of her trusty Berettas. She then began moving slowly and cautiously towards where she suspected the snipers had made their nests.

- - - -

Michael watched, with horror that turned to surprise, as Jean's wound began to heal. He leaned closer to her, detached academic curiosity taking the better of him. Her skin, he noticed, seemed to almost be knitting together. It was a little disconcerting, he realized, to see a wound heal before your eyes.

She woke up suddenly, her eyes momentarily blank with confusion. The blank stare faded, followed by an intense headache. Jean rubbed her temple, just as the headache, which had come on so suddenly, faded to nothingness. It seems there are perks to having a healing factor, she thought. She sat up, and noticed Michael staring at her. "What is it," she asked.

Speechless, he only pointed to her scalp with a trembling finger. Raising her hand to where Michael had indicated, she felt new, soft flesh beneath her fingers. It was warm to the touch; the skin was flushed with excess blood from healing. Running her fingers over the newly healed area, she could feel a stubble of red fuzz that would be eventually be her hair.

"What exactly is your mutation," Michael asked, still awestruck.

"Originally," she asked in response. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Originally, I was a telepath and a telekinetic. But, a couple of months ago, I gained Logan's abilities in addition to my own, and vice versa."

"So that was what he did to me earlier, … and what he did to stop the bullets." Jean nodded in response. Michael lowered his brows, seemingly considering something. "So, does that mean you have …," he paused, not knowing how to phrase it.

"Claws?" She clenched her fists, and with a sound like a sword being drawn from a scabbard, three claws emerged. Like Logan's, the silver metal gleamed with unspoken malice.

"Remind me to never get into a fight with either of you," he said, semi-facetiously.

She opened her mouth to respond before getting a faraway look in her eyes. When it faded, she looked towards Michael, and said, "We have to go, now."

- - - -

Selene couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. After fighting an underground war for over a century, she had long ago developed a sixth sense for when she was being watched. Her senses were on full alert, making her ready for almost anything. That was why she was surprised when she heard the cocking of a gun behind her. "Put your hands up, and throw away the gun," she heard a rough male voice say behind her. Raising her hands slowly, she threw the gun a short distance away. She hoped the Death Dealer behind her didn't notice that it was less than a body length away.

"Nice try," the voice said sarcastically, with a distinctive Russian accent. Her hope evaporated into nothingness at hearing his voice. "Now, since you are not planning on being a good little vampire, why don't you turn around … slowly. And keep your hands up!" She slowly turned, gritting her teeth, and chastising herself for being so careless. She should have known they would have someone watching.

When she was fully turned around, she finally caught sight of the man. He was tall, over six foot, with a full mustache and beard that came to two braided points. He seemed to be dressed in wolf skins, gray fur hanging in layers. He had a gun in his hands she'd never seen before, with one barrel for bullets, and the other for explosive rounds, possibly grenades. She could make out the end of a hilt just poking out from under his coat on his right hip. And, if she was not mistaken, he had something on his left hip, as well.

"Now," the man said, "why don't you throw away that other gun of yours?" Keeping one hand raised, she began reaching under her leather duster for her other gun. "Two fingers," the man yelled. She took her other Beretta out with two fingers, still chastising herself. "Now throw it away. And don't play with me! Throw it further this time, or you'll get a UV bullet straight up the ass!" Gritting her teeth, she complied. "Good," the man said. "So, you would be the great Selene," he murmured, eyeing her appraisingly. "I must say, I am not impressed."

"And who would you be," she asked coolly.

"I'm surprised you didn't already know," he replied, with sadistic glee. "But since you asked so politely … my name is Ivan Korkov."

"Ivan Korkov," she repeated, a cold lump settling in her stomach. It was no wonder she hadn't known he was watching her. Ivan Korkov, better known as Ivan the Hunter, was a legendary Death Dealer. It was thought that he was born during the time of Catherine the Great, but no one was sure. He had a reputation as being ruthlessly sadistic, and incredibly lethal. He was known to the lycans as the Butcher of Paris, as he had almost single-handedly wiped out a den there in the 1800s. For many years, the most gifted, and promising young vampires would go to him for training to become Death Dealers. But, he had not been heard from for over a century. Some had thought he was dead. Apparently they were mistaken.

"So you have heard of me," Ivan replied. "Good. Then you should not be angry at yourself for not having known where I was. Alas, that the great Selene, so well-praised by Viktor himself, should fall before the Hunter."

"And you have heard of me," Selene responded, hoping to buy herself some time. She could have sworn she'd seen movement in the trees to Karkov's right.

"Of course," he replied. "The renowned Death Dealer who not only rutted with a filthy animal, but also killed an Elder in the process. Who hasn't heard of you?" He chuckled to himself. "You and your lover have been the topic of much speculation since you both disappeared from Budapest."

"How comforting to know that we are famous," she acerbically replied.

"I should have hoped so," Karkov responded. "Now, I am truly sorry, one warrior to another, but it is time for you to die." He raised his gun to eye level, and placed his finger on the trigger. Suddenly, a glint of silver, followed by a growling blur, flashed before her eyes. Following its path, she was surprised to see Logan standing on the other side of her, his arms wide, his claws unsheathed. At his feet was most of the barrel of the gun Karkov had been holding just moments before.

"Not today, bub," Logan snarled. His clothes were bloody, tears and holes decorating them almost at random.

"And who might you be," Karkov asked coldly, trying to keep his eyes on both at the same time.

"Yer worst nightmare, bub," Logan answered. And with that, he launched forward in a sudden attack, kicking Karkov in the temple with a singular, surgical strike. The vampire sagged to the ground, immediately unconscious. Turning to Selene, Logan said, "We gotta move out now."

"Why," she asked, picking up her trusty Berettas. "What's going on?"

"There's another squad of yer friends comin', over a hundred strong." He grimaced, sheathing his claws. "Me an' Jeannie'd survive the fight. … I ain't too sure about you an' Michael."

She considered that quietly, trying not to be insulted. He did have a point, after all. Twenty-five to one, she realized, really wasn't the best of odds, even considering the training she had. And Michael … he was fast, and strong, but he didn't have the experience to be able to fight those odds. "So, what's the plan?"

"We take ya to yer den." He motioned over her shoulder. "There's a van, about a half mile from here, that's UV protected. It's what the first team used."

"And how do you know all of this," she asked.

"I got ways of persuadin' people," he replied, grinning slightly. "We should start headin' there now, before it's too late."

"What about Michael and Jean?"

"They should already be there."

"Really," Selene asked. "How?"

"The good thing about telekinesis," Logan explained, walking past her, "is it lets you fly."

- - - -

Jornada del Muerto – Three Days Later

"I always thought I'd get killed by a silver bullet."

"What," Ana asked quietly. Her eyes widened in surprise, before her brows knitted in anger. "It was you," she said with a chilling ferocity. "Chingón! You murdered your best friend," she screamed stomping towards him. Her fists were clutched at her sides, the taught tendons testament to their strength. "Why? Why'd you kill him?" Her entire body was rigid with white-hot, venomous rage. "Were you hungry? Is that it? Not enough sheep around?"

"Ana," Marty interjected, placing himself between her, and Bryan. "Now's not the time for this."

"Fuck you," she said, her anger turning suddenly on Marty. "If not now, when?"

"He's right, Ana," Joey said. "Now's not the time for this; we need every able body to fight."

Before Ana could reply to Joey, Bryan said quietly, but confidently, "I didn't kill Aaron."

"You'd say anything to save your hide," she sneered.

"It's true, Ana," Marty said quietly. "He didn't kill Aaron."

"And how do you know?"

"Because I was there, as well."

"Fine," she replied, her eyes still aflame. "Then what killed Aaron?"

"It was one of those things," Bryan replied. "It attacked Aaron when he was finishing with a tarp over one of the finds. I was with him, and Marty was maybe twenty yards away. Me and Marty killed it; that's where the piece of arm came from."

"Okay," she said slowly, piecing it together in her mind. "Fine, I can understand how you were able to fight it. But, how about Marty?"

"Well, he's a member of the …," Bryan began, realizing too late he had said too much.

Marty looked at Bryan, squinting his eyes ever so slightly. He sighed, "I suppose it was going to come out sooner or later, especially considering everything that's happening." He looked over his shoulders, shocked too see just how far the creatures had advanced. "Hold that thought." He turned, and took several steps towards the advancing wall of creatures. He spread his arms wide, and as he did so, Ana couldn't help but notice that his tattoo seemed to come alive. The fire, in fact, seemed to almost be three-dimensional; embers seemingly sparking off of his skin. Marty closed his arms with a sudden movement, fire sparking to life around his hands. As his hands met in front of his body, a stream of fire shot forth, encircling the entire camp.

"Who … or what are you," Cyclops asked, eyeing the oncoming creatures. They seemed to have stopped, and, if he was not mistaken, they were studying the ring of fire three feet above the ground. In the orange glow, they seemed that much more nightmarish.

"As I was saying," Marty began, "I'm a member of the Order."

"The order," Cyclops asked.

"The Order of the Elements," Marty explained.

"What the hell is that," Ana asked. "And since when can you control fire?"

"I'll answer your questions in the morning," he said, "if we live that long."

"Hmm," Shift murmured behind him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that … ring of fire isn't going to last that long, is it?"

"No," Marty replied. "It'll last for about fifteen, twenty minutes. But, it can only prevent, at the most, ten to twenty of the creatures from crossing at a time. Any more than that, and I'm afraid it'll collapse." As he finished speaking, several of the creatures charged the camp. As they reached the fire ring, massive flares swelled up to meet them. The people closest to the flares backed away, the sudden, intense heat flushing their skin.

"Before that collapses," Ana said quietly, "I'm going to need a weapon." She had realized that, unlike what she thought earlier, she was the only one without a … unique way to defend herself. "I don't want to hamper anyone else's movement. And, we're going to need everyone to fight these things off."

"I might have something for you," Shift replied. She went to her tent, keeping an eye on the creatures that were charging the perimeter. She took out the metal case that had the prototype nanobot suit. "Here," she said, squatting in front of Ana. Opening the case, she handed Ana two metal bracelets. "Put these on your wrists."

"Is that it," Ana asked, clasping the metal bands.

"Not quite," Shift replied, taking out a small remote control. Pointing it in the direction of Ana, she pressed a green button with the word "Activate" beside it.

Ana looked down to the bracelets to find that they were glowing slightly. The soft glow began moving over her skin, first over her hands, then up her arms. She realized that wherever the glow touched, that part of her body became numb, and heavy. She was obliged to drop her arms to her sides as if nothing more than slabs of meat. The glow reached her chest, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she could no longer feel herself breathing. She panicked, feeling as if she was drowning. She tried to scream, but with a sudden horror realized she could not. Her legs were numb, and now, the glow was coming towards her eyes. With gruesome clarity, she realized she was going to die.…

- - - -

Blackness.

She could see nothing, hear nothing. She could feel nothing; if nothing else, she seemed to be weightless. But, if she was, she couldn't tell. She asked herself, surreally, am i moving my lips? my arms? Am I talking, or am i thinking? She didn't know. Her mind seemed to drift to Descartes' philosophy: Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. Did that mean she was dead or alive? Neither?

She seemed to drift for an eternity, or perhaps it was less than a picosecond (she couldn't tell – what was time without the ability to sense it?). She began to question her sanity (and her consciousness – did she think because she existed, or did she exist because she thought). Suddenly, she saw a cursor – a green computer cursor blinking in front of her (eyes?). It seemed that no matter which direction she turned, she saw it right in front of her (though, it was up for debate whether she was actually turning or not.)

Suddenly, words appeared after the cursor:

Welcome to the Nanorobotic Personal Defense System (NanPeDSys)

The sentence disappeared, the cursor blinking several times. A new sentence appeared:

Initiating host – system bonding.…

This was followed by several more sentences, one after another, that freaked her out more than she liked to admit.

Nervous system bonding … complete.

Cardiopulmonary system bonding … complete.

Gastrointestinal system bonding … complete.

Musculoskeletal system bonding … complete.

Other organ system(s) bonding … complete.

Host – system bonding … complete.

Again, the cursor blinked several times, the computer apparently thinking. Finally, a new sentence appeared.

Initiating sensory input …

Suddenly, her ears were filled with sound. It was, she thought, almost like listening to a recording at a much slower speed. She thought she heard a voice, but it was too deep and muffled to tell. She could see again, but what she saw was blurry, like looking through a massively wrong eyeglass prescription. She thought she saw the ring of fire, but wasn't certain. She felt a massive weight on her body, as if she was carrying another two hundred pounds. The smell of rotting fish was suddenly so strong, she could taste bile at the back of her throat. But, it was still better than what she had felt like beforehand. Another sentence appeared.

Calibrating taste … touch … smell input … complete.

The weight was suddenly removed from her body, and the rotting fish smell was no where near as bad as it had been.

Calibrating auditory input … complete.

She suddenly heard Joey mumbling, "She looks like a female version of Sybre."

Calibrating visual matrix … complete.

She suddenly saw the ring of fire in front of her, and the creatures just beyond.

- - - -

"How long have I been out of it," Ana asked, slightly bewildered.

"About ten seconds," Shift answered, closing the metal case.

"That's it," Ana asked, incredulously.

"That's it," the other woman replied. "Now, this remote," Shift said, motioning to control in her hand, "is the only thing that can undo the bonding." She handed it to Ana. "If anything happens to it, you'll be stuck as a cyborg."

"I'll be sure to keep it safe." Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, she saw several flare-ups of the fire ring. But, … when the bright light dissipated, she saw, to her surprise and horror, that half a dozen creatures had made it past the fiery circle. She saw Cyclops, reacting almost immediately, take a knee, and unleash a massive blast of crimson energy. The creatures seemed to literally split apart from the force of the blast, their top halves vaporizing.

To her right, there was another massive flare-up. More creatures started to pass the circle. A stream of fire met those first in the group, as Marty let loose with a roiling torrent that lit the night with angry orange light. Those creatures that had entered the ring after the burning ones started fanning out, trying to avoid Marty's stream. Several of the creatures' heads exploded in fine, orange mists with an abrupt brutality. She turned her head further, to see Bishop firing round after round from the large gun in his hands. Without warning, one of the creatures lunged for his gun, tearing it from his grasp. Angrily, the big man unleashed a blast of energy from his fists at point blank range, disintegrating the front of the creature's head.

Suddenly, she felt a great weight on her back. A shiny, black, exoskeletal arm wrapped around her torso, trying to tear into the armor on her. With a strength she didn't know she had, she flipped the creature over her shoulder and onto its back. Still holding the creature's arm, she placed a foot on its shoulder, and, with all her strength, pulled upward, wrenching the creature's arm off at the shoulder. Picturing a nine inch, double edged blade coming out of her arm, she was surprised when one actually unsheathed out of her wrist. She kneeled down, and with a singular sweeping motion, cut off the creature's head. "Madre de Díos," she muttered to herself.

She looked up, and was shocked by what she saw. The ring of fire had failed, and creatures were starting to surge in, like water bursting through a dam. She saw Nightcrawler fighting several of the creatures. One of them charged him, its tusks fully unsheathed. The agile German easily leaped over the creature, planting his hands against its back, performed a half somersault, and donkey-kicked the creature. He landed on his hands, turning it into a handspring, and landed on his feet with a catlike grace, and a roguish smile. He's much more formidable than I thought, Ana thought to herself.

A second creature charged him, swiping at him with its claws. Nightcrawler disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and reappeared behind the creature. He grabbed a hold of the thing, and teleported again. When he reappeared, the creature had disappeared. He looked down to his hands, surprise crossing his face. He didn't have time to consider what happened, though, as the same creature from earlier attacked him again. He ducked and dodged its claws, and its tusk thrusts. He seemed to decide to try teleporting again, and grabbing the creature, disappeared. When he reappeared, once again the creature was gone. He smiled widely, showing his sharp teeth; the look was just a little dismaying.

Her attention turned to Shift, who had several dozen foot-long spikes sticking out of her body. With an almost inescapable speed, the spikes extended, piercing the same number of creatures in the middle of their chests. The spikes seemed to turn into to double-edged blades, and with a sudden twisting motion, she cut all the creatures in half. Ana noticed she had also gotten a number of other creatures with the vicious twist.

Suddenly, Ana saw Bryan fighting a creature. He had a hold of the creature's wrists, and was trying to prevent the things jaws from getting close to his head. But, he was slowly losing. Without warning, another creature impaled him on its long tusks. The change (she capitalized the word only after she thought it) occurred suddenly. The creature's wrists suddenly crunched, like a massive cockroach being crushed. Bryan's back arched, almost as if in pain, and his head started to deform; it started to elongate, the ears moving upward. Before she knew it, long, shaggy black hair had grown out over his entire body, and she saw what she had only seen once before: a werewolf, in full lupine form.

With a sudden, ferocious movement, Bryan yanked the arms off the creature, as if nothing more than a fly. His massive paws moved to the creature behind him, whose tusks had speared him. The paws enclosed on the tusks, and with a powerful twisting motion, Bryan broke them in half. Falling to his knees, he began pushing them out, bearing his teeth along the way.

Several creatures appeared, and tried to capitalize on his handicap. But, suddenly, a grey werewolf, almost twice the size of Bryan, crouched between him and the creatures. It was Joey, she realized. Three of the creatures charged him, their tusks fully extended. The first came in from his left, and swiped at him with its claws. With a massive, upwards moving backhand, Joey – Lobo – knocked the creature on its back, its head bent at an odd angle. The second and third attacked him at the same time.

The second attacked him head-on, its jaws spread wide. His claws spread wide, Lobo swiped at the creature's head. Red-orange blood covered his forearm as his clawed hand tore off the creature's face, displaying the contents of its head in a gaping, jagged hole. The third succeeded in hitting him, its elephantine tusks burying into his side, just above his kidney. He roared in fury, his jaws snapping of their own accord. Turing towards the creature, he opened his jaws wide, and with a primal brutality, crushed the creature's head. Ana winced, the crushing sound repulsively wet and loud.

Ana finally turned her attention to the winged woman, Angela. She fired a massive stream of blue energy, obliterating several of the creatures. A creature tried to jump on her back, but she reacted immediately, flapping her wings violently. The creature went flying, colliding with several dozen others, its legs and neck bent at odd angles. She turned back towards the creatures in front of her, her eyes blazing with blue energy, the inside of her mouth eerily alight. "Do NOT fuck with me," she cried, releasing another bolt of energy. One of the creatures jumped on her, trying to bring her down. Suddenly, they began to dogpile her, first five, then ten, then fifteen creatures all writhing to hurt her.

A massive, blue burst of energy suddenly erupted from under the pile, throwing bodies in every direction. Her eyes were glowing with livid energy, her teeth pulled back into a sneer. She reached out with both hands, grabbing the first creature she saw. She started squeezing, hands on either side of its head. But, where her hands wre touching the creature, … smoke was rising. "What the hell," Ana asked.

Marty must have noticed it, too, because she heard him say, "Holy shit". He rushed towards her, fire dancing in every direction around him, seemingly seeking out the creatures. "Angela," he cried, grabbing her by the arm. She wheeled on him, her fist cocked, her eyes ablaze. With her wings drawn wide, she was incredibly imposing; Marty took an involuntary step back, watching her. She seemed to recognize him after a moment, her fist falling back to her side. "I need you to repeat exactly what I say. Together, we can end this right now."

She nodded in acquiescence. "What is it you want me to say?"

He smiled, wryly, "Secaré Angela, ter ce Tanare Saíthen, ce marákh! Ai malín! Varé tai!"

Surprisingly, Angela seemed to understand. "Okay," she said. She repeated what he said, noticing that as she did so, her voice was much, much louder, as if speaking through a megaphone. She also noticed that as she spoke the word that began with an m that she had goosebumps.

The creatures seemed to understand her. If their faces could show emotion, they would have shown fear. The creatures started backing away from her, slowly, looking around warily. It almost seemed as if they were expecting something else to attack them. Slowly, they receded into the night, wary, cautious, and fearful all the way.

As the creatures finally disappeared into the night, Joey came up beside her. "What did that mean, what you said," he asked her.

"It means," Marty answered for her, "'I am Angela, of the High GuardiansYou have angered me. I shall destroy you.'"

"Then," Joey began, "maybe you can tell me what something means."

"What's that?"

"Hesír Tanúk. What does it mean," Joey asked, earnestly.

"It's pronounced 'Hey-sear Ta-nook'," Marty corrected. "You have to swallow the 'k'." He looked to Joey appraisingly. "Why do you want to know?"

"I had a vision where a woman called me that."

"I see," Marty replied, smiling. "Literally translated, it means Wolf King."