A/N-

Mouse- The thing about Jessica is that she's always hoping that Allie is gonna kill Kal. She thinks the only reason she hasn't done so already is because Allie's suffering from temporary mental illness…yeah, it's odd.

Dark Ninja- Sorry about the wait…please don't hunt me down. Pretty pretty please with ice cream and Chapter 27 on top!

Krazykutie- Thanks! It's because I'm a geek with no social life. Ha ha.

larashrub- Here's your cheesy reunion! )

One Week Later

July the Thirteenth, 1874

"Hey, you. Wake up."

The girl's voice made Gabriel open his eyes reluctantly. He had been dreaming. About Elizabeth. Again. The bruises across his back made him wince as he sat up. A few day before, somebody had decided it fun to beat him with a stick.

If Elizabeth could see me now…he thought gloomily. His hair and fur were matted and tangled hopelessly, and his pants were torn and faded. Nothing remained of his shirt; it had been ripped beyond repair. Anyone, not just Elizabeth, looking at him, would see only a tired, beaten animal.

Gabriel turned his attention to Callie. Her hair was wet, and her boy's clothing clung to her body. Outside the tent, it was raining. Every so often, thunder would sound.

"You paying attention?" she asked sharply.

Gabriel nodded and looked her in the eyes to show her he was. He hadn't spoken since that day, a week ago.

"Listen, I'm not a nice person. Hell, if I walked into a church, I'd be thrown out on my ear. But even I don't make up cruel lies to torture people."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. What is she going on about? he wondered.

"I read your cards. Not for any particular reason, mind, just because I had nothing else better to do."

Gabriel nodded disinterestedly and let his gaze drift to the door of the tent. The flap had been left open., revealing the stormy sky. It was dark; it couldn't have been later than six in the morning. Why is she bothering me with this now?

"The person you love, the one that you think you lost. She's alive."

Gabriel felt his heart stop, then start up again much to fast. He snapped his head back to Callie. "A…live?" he croaked.

"Yes. That's' what the cards told me, anyways. And she's in danger." She looked at him expectantly for a moment, then raise her eyebrows. "Well, what are you waiting for? I unlocked the door. Go!"

Gabriel was on his feet, then out of the cage before she had finished her sentence. He sprinted to the front of the tent, then paused. "Merci," he told the fortune teller softly.

"Don't bother; it does my karma good. Now get before they catch you leaving."

Gabriel nodded and dashed out of the tent and into the rain. He was completely soaked after a few seconds, but he barely felt it.

She's alive! Alive! Squinting his eyes against the downpour, he ran out of the circus as fast as he could soon approaching the muddy dirt road. His foot sank into a water-filled dent briefly, then he pulled it out and continued running as fast as he could.

He hurried on into the early morning, and soon was out of sight from anybody that may have been watching from the circle of tents.

Come eight o'clock, they would find his cage door open, nothing in it except straw and a miniature harp. They would send someone to question the fortune teller, who had a spare set of keys to everything, but would find her in a deep sleep on her cot, Tarot cards spread into an unrecognizable pattern.

The storm worsened, and Gabriel ran.

"Where to?" the driver asked, without much interest. Elizabeth handed him her francs and climbed into the carriage. Normally, she would have taken Jack and gone herself, but she had no idea how to reach her destination.

"To the old cemetery, please."

The driver gave her a funny look, but pocketed the money and started off anyways.

The old cemetery…why do I want to go there? Elizabeth asked herself silently. It's not as if I have relatives buried there…or just want to look. I've never like graveyards, anyways, so why? She didn't like the feeling that had come over her. She pulled her red shawl around her shoulders for comfort.

I wish Gabriel were here. Then I could talk to somebody who wouldn't think me insane for going to a cemetery for no reason. He'd listen to me.

Liz, she sighed to herself, if wishes were horses, then all beggars would ride. It's useless, thinking the way you are. Gabriel's gone, and is never coming back.

She closed her eyes as the wheels of the carriage rattled on the cobblestone streets. She hadn't gotten enough sleep that night, staying up until three in the morning, reading a book. Whenever she closed her eyes, they would snap open on their own accord. She had felt…jumpy. Nervous. Like someone was watching her.

The ride to the old cemetery, she suspected, would be a long one. She resigned herself to sleep and fell into a light doze, still having that nagging feeling in the back of her mind. It was almost like the feeling you had when you forgot something, something important, that you had to remember.

But what was it?

The driver looked back sharply as she whispered in her sleep. For a moment, he could've sworn he'd heard the blonde girl say "The black roses mean sleep."

He shook his head and slapped the reigns over the horses' backs.

Alison knelt down on the floor, next to where Kal was curled up in a ball, back facing her. "Kal," she said softly. His inky skin twitched again, and his shoulders tensed further. "Kal, you have to leave."

"I know, Princess," he grumbled. "I--" he broke off, then started again. "…stop it…swear I'll kill you…"

"Kal!" Allie felt the blood leave her face .She had hear him say that, once before. At the time, he was unconscious and dreaming of his childhood again.

"Sorry…lost track of time." Kal turned over and sat up slowly. "Move, Princess."

"Oh. Sorry." Allie scrambled out of the way and stood up, a split second before Kal did The raven demon wavered unsteadily for a second, then left the room, Allie following behind him. "Remember, come back as soon as its midnight. And stay away from Jessica and the others, for once!"

"I know, Princess. I know." He reached the door and unlocked it. Once it was open, he turned his head slightly and faced her. "Stay out of trouble, Princess. I don't want to have to cross the ocean more than twice."

Allie rolled her eyes. "You won't have to. I'll be a good little girl."

"Good." He turned to go, and then Allie threw her arms around his ribcage. She felt Kal sigh. "You do realize that the longer I stay, the higher chance there is of me killing everyone in the city?"

She smiled and let him go. That was the typical Kal response to being showed any affection whatsoever. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of here." She shoved him lightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He spread his wings and took to the sky, quickly becoming a black shadow among the storm clouds. It had been raining earlier, but it had stopped. Now it looked like it would start up again.

Allie closed the door and locked it again. It was going to be a very long day.

She poured the boiling water she had heated earlier this morning and prepared herself a tea. She was going to need the caffeine. After heaping in the sugar, she sat down at the kitchen table and opened a book.

-miss me already, eh?-

-Ha, in your dreams, crow. Just concentrate on getting yourself to leave the country.-

-whatever you say, Princess-

She smiled to herself, then almost spilled some of the tea on her hand as someone knocked on the door.

Setting down the cup and the book, she went over to the door and began to unlock it.

I wonder who it is…can't be Kal. Maybe it's Lizzy. She blinked in surprise as she saw who was standing in the doorway.

"We're here," the driver announced as the carriage jolted to a stop, waking Elizabeth. She rubbed the sleep out of the corners of her eyes and climbed out, muttering a sleepy "Thanks."

The driver snapped the reigns and the horses were off, soon leaving Elizabeth standing alone in front of the rusty gates.

Shaking her head to clear the rest of the drowsiness, she grabbed the cold iron handles and wrenched the gates open. Rusty hinges squealed shrilly, making her grit her teeth. Obviously no-one had come here in a very long time.

There was a leaf-covered path; she focused on that as she walked though the cemetery, dead oak leaves crunching dully under her feet. After a minute on the winding path, she came to some worn stone steps. Seriously worn. In the middle, the stone was warped into a bowl shaped, and along the sides there were similar shapes, though smaller. All in all, the edges of the stairs had a wavy appearance, the straight edge gone long ago.

Elizabeth sat down on the stone steps, flinching slightly. The stone was so cold…

She drew her breath in sharply as she looked out at the cemetery for the first time.

But it was not the first time.

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, had come all he way here 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. Then suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder again, and she snapped out of her trance with a shriek. She stumbled off of the steps, landing on her knees. Involuntarily, she looked over her shoulder, and felt another shriek catch in her throat.

His face…his face...oh my God…ohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod…

The skin on his head was a rotten black, covered with patches of slimy dark-green mould here and there. In some places, the sickly yellow of bone showed through the rotting skin, that was pulled tight over the skull. The eyes were like an owls, and shone the same green as the mould. He had no nose, only sockets, and his mouth barely had lips. Jagged fangs filled his mouth and protruded over his lips, fangs that came to razor-sharp points and were each the size of her index finger. The fangs were the same pale yellow as the bone showing through the skin. Long, pointy ears were on either side of his head. Small pointy ridges protruded from the center of his forehead down to the nape of his neck, then continued down his back. The skin on his head was the same as the skin on his body. His ribs showed through, gruesomely visible, though there seemed to be ten on each side. His collarbone jutted from under his neck, most of it uncovered by the rotting flesh. The joints in his fingers showed clearly, and he had eight fingers in each hand, the digits unnaturally long, having the appearance of bony spiders. He wore a pair of breeches, black and green with mould, torn in places. Past the breeches were his rotting calves, skeletal ankles, and feet that ended in talons instead of in toes. And, on his back, were a pair of disintegrating, bony wings, each with more bone that the skin that stretched between in.

"Whatever is the matter, good Lady?" he hissed. Dimly, she wondered hw he was able to talk with all those uneven fangs. "Are you ssscaaaaarred?"

"Help," she croaked. She had meant to scream, scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs, but her vocal cords weren't obeying her. "Help, somebody.."

" 'Help'? Why are you asking for help? Nobody is here but us. Not for miles." He crouched down on the top step, wings hunched over his shoulders. For a moment, he reminded Elizabeth of a gargoyle. "Are you hungry, milady? I am. Very, very hungry. See, like those humans, I've been asleep for a very long time. And I'm so hungry." He smiled, displaying more yellow fangs, dripping with saliva. "Soooo hungry…"

"I- no, please…d-don't hurt me, please!"

"Hurt you? Milady, whenever did you get the notion that I was going to hurt you?" He smiled again. "I'm going to eat you, good Lady! Tear your pretty flesh right off of your pretty bones, and then swallow it down! Yum, yum!" It licked its lips with an unnaturally long black tongue that ended in a point.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream for help again, but was interrupted by a smooth voice. "Now, now, don't go frightening the young child." She whipped her head around and saw Jason sitting on one of the crumbling tombstones, legs crossed casually. He grinned and looked at he calmly with his red eyes. "Wraiths. Extremely rude, aren't they?"

'Wraiths: Dark servants of the lower planes, the allies of demons and bane of faeries and humans. Once given a command, it will not stop until it's carried out or it is killed.'

"W-what.." she stammered, then stopped as the wraith lowered his head respectively to Jason.

"A pleasure to see you, Master."

"Likewise," Jason said, and began inspecting his nails. "I believe I told you to bring her to my domain, and not to eat her?"

"I only was wondering what expression her little face would make. I was going to bring her to you shortly."

"Very well. Shall we leave, then?"

Elizabeth sat, frozen in horror. What was happening? The wraith was being commanded by Jason? To kidnap her?

What were they going to do to her?

Jason smirked as he saw Elizabeth's eyes dart around helplessly.

Wondering what's happening, my dear? Well, it's very simple: now is the opportune time to sacrifice you, and, in doing so, I'll use your soul to bring back Marie. It's all very simple, very straightforward, so you needn't worry.

Jason opened his mouth to give the wraith the command, but was rudely cut off as a gril yelled "Jason! Stop it!"

He closed his mouth and turned around, wondering who had dared to give him orders.

The faery-girl who had been annoying him so often ran up to them, panting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw the expression on Elizabeth's face change from terror into disbelief. "Mirei!"

"I'm so sorry, Mademoiselle Elizabeth," the faery said in a rushed voice, then turned to the wraith. "Leave," she snapped at it, then held out her arm and flicked her wrist. The wraith instantly vanished before their eyes.

"Who are you?" Jason shouted at the faery. But it couldn't be a faery; they didn't have the adequate magical strength to do what she just did.

Her face softened and she brushed a green braid out of her face. "Jason, my love…don't you recognize me?"

He tensed. "I've never seen you before in my life!"

She stepped toward him, holding out a hand. "Jason, do you know why all those attempts at bringing me back worked? It's because bringing back the dead is an impossible task; it can never be accomplished. It doesn't matter, though, because I was never really dead."

"No! You can't be Marie! She was killed!"

She smiled softly and her appearance wavered, blurred, then cleared again. Her hair was now loose and was black as night, with brilliant crimson streaks. Her eyes were a clear garnet, and her face palled even further until it became white as ivory. "On that night, I was injured badly, yes, but I was alive. I hurt my head rather severely, and lost my memories. They only began to come back this month."

"Marie…is it really you?" Jason slid off of the tombstone.

Marie nodded and didn't move. "You've changed, Jason. What happened to your heart? It is not as it should be. It is a black void full of hate and arrogance. How could you let yourself become this way?"

"I…I thought you were…"

"Then why did you punish others so? I've seen what you've done to the youngest Noirmort, and it disgusts me. I still love you, Jason, but I do not believe you worthy of it."

Jason felt as though she had ripped out his heat and dashed it to the ground. "Marie…"

"Leave Elizabeth alone. Leave everyone alone, and return to your lair. I will come with you, because I love you, but you must promise never to leave it again."

"I…promise." Jason ignored Elizabeth completely, though she had gotten up, shock written all over her face. Then he remembered something he had ordered the wraith.

Kill her as soon as it becomes eight o'clock.

Hastily taking out his sliver pocket watch, he saw the minute hand click to the twelve. The hour hand was neatly pointing at the eight.

Marie noticed the look on his face. "Jason, what did you do?" she asked.

Elizabeth walked up next to Marie. "What is it?"

Jason opened his mouth again, and was again interrupted. The wraith appeared on a rose-covered stone cross, balancing on the top. "Here as you've ordered, Master. And to do what you ordered," he told Jason. "Kill her I will. Oh, but there seems to be two 'hers'. Which one?"

"Stop! Return back to the planes!" Jason shouted, but it seemed to have no effect on the wraith, who was now grinning maniacally.

"Ennie, meenie, miney, moe!" it cackled, then leapt off of the tombstone at the two girls, hands hooked into talons.

Jason stood, frozen, as it struck Marie, throwing her backwards into the crypt. Elizabeth was thrown to the ground by one of the wraith's wings.

"Marie!" Jason ran past Elizabeth and into the crypt. The wraith had already disappeared. Marie was lying spread-eagled on the floor, head against the stone casing on the coffin. Kneeling down next to her, Jason lifted her carefully. Her neck lolled on her shoulders loosely, as if it belonged to a rag doll. There was a slight trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. "Marie!" He shook her roughly, and her head swung limply from side to side. He put his index and middle finger under her jaw, feeling for the pulse, and felt nothing. "Marie…"

Elizabeth came up behind him, standing in the door of the crypt. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know how it feels."

Jason snapped his head around to glare at her. "Don't talk to me! I don't need your sympathy!" he spat, then disappeared with Marie in his arms.

"Robin?" Allie felt half-compelled to slam the door in his face.

"Bonjour. Are you going to invite me in?" Today he wore blue and purple, and was wearing an overcoat over his clothes. It was raining again.

Allie shook her head. "Why're you here? I heard that there was a circus a while away. Isn't your caravan going to perform?"

"No, they're staying in Paris a bit longer. Why won't you let me in? It's kind of wet out here, if you haven't noticed."

"Well, for one, you're probably just looking to pick a fight with Kal, who isn't here."

"He isn't?"

"No, he went…to visit his family. Last week, actually. He won't be back for a while," she lied.

"That bastard has a family? I would've thought that, if he did, he would've killed them."

She sighed. "Robin, just drop it. Kal didn't have anything to do with Jake. And I have other things to do than drive that through your thick skull, so au revoir." She closed the door in his face and locked it. Moving to the window, she saw him walk back down the road and felt a slight twinge of pity. He wasn't really such a bad guy, he had just seen a lot in his life. As a gypsy, he was discriminated against, and Jake being murdered was probably more than he could take.

Returning to the table, she re-opened her book and took a sip of her tea. Kal was probably half-way to the mountains, by now. He could fly incredibly fast.

Over the ocean as we speak. Death flapped to the chair next to her and perched on it.

"You're still here?"

Of course. Do you think I'd risk my life by following him?

"I guess not."

After a few moments of silence, Death spoke up again. You know, it would save everyone a lot of grief if you'd just kill him.

"Shut up, you stupid crow."

See? Now you're even starting to curse like him!

"I know." She smiled and tossed the rest of her tea the the raven soaking it effectivly as ihe cawed his surprise.

By the time Gabriel reached Paris, it was already nighttime. How late, he didn't know, only that it was late enough that no-one was walking the streets. Some good luck, at least.

It was still raining, falling down in a light curtain. Drops that fell in the light cast by the lamps sparkled like miniature diamonds.

Gabriel had now slowed down to a fast walk, limping slightly. He wasn't used to running for so long, and he had ran for over twelve hours.

A stray cat stared at him out of an alleyway as he passed, reminding him of Rose.

I hope she's alright…I hope Elizabeth's alright. He felt his mouth smile weakly. Alive, he still couldn't believe it! He could tell her he loved her. He would tell her as soon as he saw her.

A few minutes past, and, finally, he was had reached Jocelyn and Pierre's house. The oil lamps were on in the windows, and in the house.. He didn't even hesitate as he went up to the door; let them scream, stare, or do whatever they pleased. All that mattered to him was seeing his angel.

He opened the door without knocking and limped into the kitchen, startling Jocelyn, who was washing the dishes.

He winced slightly as she shrieked, and stopped in the middle of the kitchen, a few feet away from her.

Speaking of the dishes, Jocelyn was now holding a heavy cast-iron frying pan in front of her. "Don't come another step closer!"

"Is Elizabeth here?" he asked, the question coming out as a whisper. He was so thirsty…

Jocelyn must have not heard him, because she held the frying pan higher. "Stay away!"

"Jocelyn? What are you yelling about?" Elizabeth's voice carried into the kitchen from the hallway. A second later, and she was standing in the doorframe. "Gabriel?"

Before Jocelyn had a chance to ask, Elizabeth pushed past her and ran to gabirle, throwing her arms around him and ignoring the fact he was sopping wet. "Gabriel! I thought you were dead!"

Gabriel returned her hug as she started sobbing. "Shh, it's alright, ange, I'm here." He paused, then added "I love you, ange."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jocelyn's eyes widen in recognition, then Elizabeth looked up. She hasn't changed at all, he thought, then almost missed her reply.

"I love you, too." She buried her head in his chest again hugging him tighter.

There was a clank as Jocelyn set down the frying pan, looking at the two of them in disbelief. "Gabriel? Is that you?"

Elizabeth giggled and looked up at him again, once more efficiently melting his heart. "I think we have some explaining to do."