A/N- Wooohoo! I've finally reached chapter twenty! Yay! Thanks, as always, for all the comments (worships reviewers).

Mouse--'bout Kal…I don't want to give away too much of the story (which I WILL be posting, after I'm finished this and Jason's story, and it will be in the same time period--eighteen hundreds, I mean), but she's kind of his ward, (complicated raven demon magic), and if she dies, he dies. And there's this whole thing that his curse (evilness) can be cured, and she's the only person that can, but he doesn't really WANT to be cured, 'cause that means he's not invincible anymore, blah blah blah…it's odd. I'm not sure I understand it myself, and I invented the guy!

Elizabeth woke to a dry mouth and pounding headache. When she opened her eyes, a shaft of light hit them, and the agony made her shut them again with a snap. Now that she was awake, her stomach had begun to turn.

Headache, sensitivity to light, nausea…I don't think I have a fever.

The term for her illness came to her: a hangover. Well, that would definitely explain the weird dream I had.

The details of her alcohol-induced dream came to back to her clearly.

Elizabeth was sitting in a cemetery. There were old tombstones and grave-markers all around her, and they were all ancient, crumbling, and crooked. Over each grew a tangle of roses…but these roses were black. Not dark red, she knew, but black as ink. The iron fence surrounding the cemetery was also covered in the black roses. An ancient oak tree grew next to the fence, its gnarled, dead branches reaching over like crooked fingers.

She was sitting on the stairs leading to an old crypt. She didn't look behind herself, but she already knew that the doors were long since torn away, and the stone casing around the coffin exposed to anyone who walked by. Dead oak leaves littered the crypt floor.

It was cold out; and she thought, How odd. It's in the middle of summer, it shouldn't be cold. She didn't want to leave yet, because she was waiting for someone. So she just drew her red shawl, whose color seemed to fade in the grim, foggy cemetery, and sat on the cold, stone steps, looking at the black roses. They looked healthy, but she knew they were dead. She knew. No matter how healthy they looked on the outside, she knew they were dead. They had been touched by…something, and they had turned black and died.

"Such a pity," she murmured to herself. A split second later, a hand fell on her shoulder. She shivered involuntarily. It was cold; she could feel it even though her shawl and her dress.

"And why is it a pity, good Lady?" The voice from behind her asked. She wanted to turn around to reply, but knew, like she had about the roses, that she wasn't meant to.

"Because they were so beautiful." It was a naïve answer, but the first thing she had come up with.

The person behind her had little time to spare on her.

"They are not now? No, they are just dead…but everything is beautiful in death, don't you think so? Sometimes more beautiful then they were in life."

Elizabeth suddenly shivered. She did not want to sit here, anymore, talking to this person. It was the person she had waited for, and now she wanted to take her leave. She had spoken to him (she knew it was a him, because he had a male's voice, that somehow seemed familiar), and he had spoken to her, and that's all that was meant to happen.

Elizabeth stood up, but his hand, his icy, dead hand, never left her shoulder. "Kindly remove you hand. I'll be on my way."

The man spun her around, and then she saw his face. "Don't you want to stay?" he spat. "Stay with the sleeping people?" His hand tightened, vice-like, on her shoulder, and she knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow.

She bruised easily.

"Let me go!"

"The sleeping people, because, remember, they never die, they only sleep!" he hissed. "They sleep! And wait to be woken up!"

"Let me go!" she repeated, more panicky this time, squirming under his grip. It did not good; it was as if his hand was made of iron.

And his face…oh God, his face

"Look at the roses! Look! They symbolize love and pain! The red ones do! You know what the black roses mean! You know!"

All the terror went out of her and her face went slack. "I know."

"The black roses!"

"I know what the black roses mean." She turned away, trance-like, from the man (and his face…his face!), because he allowed her, and stared out at the dozens of rows of crumbling tombstones and roses…black roses. Her shawl fell forgotten at her feet, pooling around them like red blood.

"They mean…sleep," she said, her voice emotionless.

They mean "sleep."

They mean "death."

She opened her eyes slightly again, this time prepared for the agonizing bolt of light. She held up a hand to shade her eyes and sat up in bed.

I've had odd dreams before, but none so vivid! That's the last time I'll be having any wine.

Still shading her eyes against the sun that was creeping through slits in the balcony doors, Elizabeth turned her head and saw Gabriel watching her.

"Umm…good morning. You stayed there all night?"

"Good morning, ange. And yes." He smiled at her from his spot, hand folded in his lap. He still looked the same as last night, and his hair hadn't gone back to its neglected, tangled state yet. Yet was the key word. Elizabeth had the impression that he never stopped to comb his hair or spend time picking out his clothing. If she understood correctly, the only reason he was dressed up last night was because Fraya ordered him to. And he was still in those clothes; his jacket hung over the back of the chair.

"You were talking in your sleep…everything ok?"

"Yes, it's fine. I just had an odd dream. Brought on by, not a fever, but a hangover."

Gabriel winced. "I give you my sympathies."

"You've had one before?" she asked, curious. Gabriel hardly seemed the type to get drunk.

"Once when I was…" he paused and thought a moment. "About twenty. I think I drank my way through six bottles of wine."

Elizabeth felt her jaw drop open before she forcibly closed it, thinking she had heard wrong. "Six bottles?"

"I was in a rather awful mood," he explained helplessly with a shrug. "And I said 'I think' because my memory of that day is very foggy. It may have been more than six."

"And you're alive?"

Again, he shrugged. "You may have not noticed, ange, but I'm no longer human, and wasn't when I drank that. I suppose that's the reason it didn't have any life-threatening effects on me."

Elizabeth blinked. "And I thought this is bad….I can't imagine how I would feel after six bottles of wine."

"And nor do I suggest you do. I'm not much of a complainer, but it make you feel like you wish you were dead." Gabriel stood up, stretching his back and grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. "I'll leave you to get dressed and eat your lunch, or to sleep more."

"Wait! Lunch?" She had just woken up--it couldn't possibly be noon already!

Seeing the disbelief on her face, he smiled again. "Yes, ange. It's three o'clock."

"I slept all morning?" It had felt as if she had only fallen asleep an hour ago!

Gabriel laughed softly in response and walked out of the room.

She shook her head, as if to rid herself of the headache (that, surprisingly, was subsiding, as well as the nausea), and noticed the tray of food at the foot of the bed. It was simple meal of water, dry toast, and some butter to put on the toast if she wished.

Elizabeth looked gratefully at the small meal and crawled to the foot of the bed. She didn't think she'd be able to stomach anything else. The nausea was fading, though not all the way gone.

As she munched on her breakfast (lunch, she reminded herself), she wondered about the dream she had.

The dream?

Odd, but she couldn't even remember what happened in it know.

She took a small sip of water, and, for no apparent reason (to herself, anyways) whispered so softly that no-one would have heard her, even if they were in the room.

"They sleep…and wait to be woken up."

"Bonjour!" Ella chirped as she appeared directly in front of Gabriel, looking up at him cheerfully as he almost ran into her.

"Must you do that, Mademoiselle Ella?"

"No…but it's funny!" she giggled. She handed out an envelope sealed with black wax. "I was supposed to give this to you! Forgot who Fraya said sent it, though…" she shrugged then disappeared as silently as she had came.

Shaking his head in amusement, Gabriel went the rest of the way to his room, then entered and sat on the bed. Rose immediately jumped onto his shoulder, rubbing her face against his and purring.

"Yes, little Rose, I missed you too." He stroked her head with one hand and opened the envelope with the other.

The letter was written on a piece of slightly crumpled parchment, in the neat, flowing cursive of a girl. Distractedly lifting Rose off of his shoulder, he read the letter.

Elizabeth and Gabriel,

We've made it safely to Paris. Kal has healed, and we are now living in a small cottage in the countryside, not far from all the people. Are you all well? I hope so. So does Kal. Not that he will ever admit it, though. He still believes himself to be pure evil, though I can see a change in him recently. Actually, he's been flying down to the castle every few days to check up on you two. Of course, I ask him, but only because he would go anyways, if he wasn't so busy brooding.

We still remain in your debt; without your help, we might have both died. If they haven't fallen out, I have enclosed two pendants for the both of you, as a token of our appreciation.

Gabriel's is the sliver chain and small iron bead attached to it. I've spelled it with an illusion---when you wear it, Gabriel, you will appear as you were if you were human. The spell will only work as long as you are conscious, so take it off while you sleep! Or the magic I've placed on it may wear out. It should wok perfectly fine, though, for two straight months. As long as you've followed what I've said!

Elizabeth's is the gold chain with the amethyst crystal. Amethysts are used as a protection gem, so that's what it is. I've placed a more powerful protection spell on t, using Kal's magical energy. Remember, the protection spells of a raven demon never wear down or fade. Keep this with you at all times.

I'll end this letter now--I have to check up on Kal, to make sure he hasn't snuck out of the house and gone on another one of his killing rampages.

Take care of yourselves and each other!

With best wishes,

Alison Destra

Gabriel set down the letter and emptied the envelope into his hand. There were the necklaces that Alison had described. They both looked completely ordinary but felt…strange. Magical. Curious, he set down Elizabeth's necklace in the envelop and put his around his neck. The metal was cool, but seemed to grow hot for a moment. It might of just been his imagination…

A strand of hair fell into his eyes and he impatiently raised his hand to brush it away…then stopped and lowered his hand.

His human, furless hand.

Gabriel's heart jumped into his throat and he cautiously raised up his hands to feel the sides of his head, over his ears.

No horns!

Scanning himself quickly, he discovered that he looked utterly and completely human, for the first time in thirteen years. Gone were his fur, his claws, his hors, his cat-like nose, and his tail.

Feeling his face (for he no longer had any mirrors in the places he spent his time) he felt his slightly crooked human nose, that he had broken when he was eleven.

And his skin…he could actually see it! And yet, it felt so odd with the lack of fur.

But he was human! He had to go and show Elizabeth---

Then he remembered it was only an illusion. A trick. A clever, powerful trick, but still one, none the less.

Spirits dampening, he lifted the necklace over his head and tossed it onto his desk. As soon as he had lifted it free, he had returned back to the way he had looked, in his cursed body.

Rose jumped back to her spot on his shoulder as he got up and carried the envelope, letter, and Elizabeth's necklace over to his desk, setting them down beside his discarded pendant.

What good is a magic necklace hat only disguises me for two months? He thought as he resumed his spot on the bed, Rose jumping off his shoulder and curling up next to his leg.

That's it! Paris! Now I can go with Elizabeth! Gabriel shot up again and resisted the urge to start laughing maniacally out loud. I can leave the castle and see Paris! And Elizabeth's friend Jocelyn! And her child, and Alison and Kal…!

"Mrow?" Rose asked from the bed, cocking her orange head and him as he began pacing the room with pent-up excitement.

"And you'll come as well, Rose! Of course you will." He picked her up and set her on his shoulder as he continued to pace. "Won't that be fun?"

"Meow." Rose batted the side of his face with a paw the grabbed a lock of his hair, yanking it with her teeth.

Jason tossed the orb over his shoulder. It shattered when it hit the wall, and fell to the ground like glass rain. No matter, he could always find a new one.

"Well, well, well…not liking what you see, then?" The demon sitting across from him asked. She had a lithe, strong figure, and cold golden eyes. She wore plain woven brown breeches and brown leather boots, and her brown hair was pulled back with a simple leather thong…

But the sleeveless rawhide shirt she wore bore the symbol of the royal house.

The Royal House of the Eagle Demons, that is. The woman, Jessica, was indeed an Eagle demon, and a golden eagle, on top of that. She was the top fighter in the eagle demon's elite army, and deadly as a rattlesnake.

"It's none of your business. What did you come here for, anyway? To annoy me?"

"No, although that would make the highlight of my day. You are so amusing when you loose your temper." She smiled for a moment, then it disappeared like a candle being snuffed out. "The reason I am here for, is the same as the reason I came last time."

"I am not going to join in your pitiful war. I've told you once before, and will tell you once again: I do not use my magic for purposes such as yours and your clan's. What you proposed and propose again now is absurd; no sorcerer can break the spell you want to be broken."

"Pitiful child. You are as defiant as Kalendrakk!" Jessica and her clan had run into Kal when he was but a child…and there meeting was not pleasant, nor was the time Kal spent with those demons.

"I am not a child!"

"Compared to me you are," she tossed back, and she was right. Jessica, though she appeared to be in her mid-twenties, was a thousand years old, if she was a day.

"Maybe I will examine the spell you are speaking of…I will not make any promises, though. And the only reason I will take a look is because I happen to be very bored."

"Good enough. The place that is under this particular spell in an abandoned--and very, very old--cemetery, in Paris, France…"