It was pitch black. It took Devi a moment to realize she was looking at the inside of her eyelids, but when she finally did open her eyes, it was still darker then dark. She swallowed hard, sitting up and groping at the air blindly. Her fingertips grazed against something hard and mental, and she was afraid to touch it again, what if it was sharp? She had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was….Deacon. He had taken her! Her mind immediately went to Whistler. Was he okay? What had happened to him? And what was going to happen to her?

The sound of a large mental door opening made her snap her head to the side, and she watched with fearful eyes as light flooded the room and a large, muscular man stepped into the space. He smiled widely at her and closed the door behind him, sending her falling back into darkness. She scrambled backwards and her body slammed into the wall. She let out a wince and put a hand against the wall as footsteps came to her. She felt a hand wrap around her wrist, jerking her forward roughly.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" She asked in a frightened, high pitched voice, trying to pull away. But it was useless; his grip was quite tight around her wrist.

"Shut up, human. You are here to serve your purpose and not ask any questions about it, do you understand?" His voice was deep, and gruff, almost a growl.

"No, I…please, just let me go. I promise, I won't do anything, I won't even tell Blade about anything, I promise…" She said softly and he let out a sharp barking laugh in response.

"Just like a human creature. Begging for your life because you know the end is near. Embrace it, human, and maybe it won't be so frightening." He said and pulled her forward.

"Just tell me what's going on, please!"

He whirled around, glaring at her. "Stupid, idiotic human! Serve your purpose!"

"What is my purpose?"

"To bleed for La Magra!"

"And what the hell is La Magra?" Devi asked, her voice rising.

"FUCK! Just do as you are told, human, don't make me break your neck." He growled and turned around again.

"I don't think you could do it. Deacon would get mad at you, wouldn't he….he would get angry if you broke my neck because you need live blood. I can say whatever I please."

"I will gladly take it onto myself to kill you when the time comes."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes, really." He muttered and pulled her forward. She fought him, digging her feet into the ground.

"Just let me go!" She cried out loudly, pulling against his hold.

He growled and turned to look at her. She slammed her fist as hard as she could into his face, and it made an impact. She thought she heard a crack, praying she had broken his nose.

He snarled again and she looked at him, calmly. "Maybe if you weren't so cold, I wouldn't have hit you."

"And maybe if stupid humans would shut their mouths I wouldn't be tempted to kill them before their time comes!" He growled, and yanked her towards the door, opening it and pulling her out of the room and into the light.

Deacon sat perched on the side of a table, his hands folded together, resting on top of his knees. "Where is that damned girl?" He muttered, staring off down the hallway to see if one of his men and Devi were coming yet. He heard shouting at the end of the hall, shadows danced along the wall as Devi's voice echoed against them. "Let me go! Just…let me go, you stupid bastard!" A loud growl and Devi letting out a sound of pain….then silence. Deacon smiled and hopped off the table, walking over to the hallway as Devi and Lucas, his new guard, entered the room.

Lucas let go of her wrist and she let her arm drop to her side. Her wrist hung limply from her arm, almost as if it wasn't attached anymore. Her face was twisted slightly in pain, and tears trailed down her cheeks. But she didn't make a sound. Deacon looked at Lucas and sighed. "What did you do to her fuckin' arm, Lucas?"

"She protested too much, and she wouldn't shut up. So I broke her wrist." He answered gruffly and Deacon growled, slamming a closed fist into Lucas' face, sending him flying backwards. He then turned to Devi, stepping over to her. He reached out and took hold of her wrist, looking at it. "Seems as though he broke the bone, tore the muscle, ligament….lucky if you'll be able to use it again. Must hurt like fuck."

She frowned at him. "Really….wow…I never would have known it hurt."

He smirked. "Ah, sarcasm. It's settled, you are related to me."

She continued to frown, but pain radiated from her body as he flipped her wrist around in his hand. She was tempted to scream, but she didn't want to satisfy him. "Let go of me." She whispered, afraid to talk any louder.

Deacon simply dropped her wrist and she squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a tiny whimper of pain. She couldn't help it. "Now, Devi, dear, we're going to go and get this fucking ritual done, do you understand me? Don't play anymore fuckin' games and you'll be dead and…well, you'll be six feet under. Now come on."

"Was that supposed to be encouraging? Because…that was far from it."

He growled and grabbed her hurt wrist, clenching his fist around it and yanking her towards him. If her wrist already hadn't had been broken, he would have broken it. But she let out a scream as he furthered damaged her already destroyed wrist. He snarled in her face, and pulled her down the hallway.

Whistler slowly opened his eyes, trying to remember what happened. When it all came rushing back to him, he quickly stood up, racing over to the phone and picking it up, dialing Blade's cell phone. He thanked himself for forcing Blade to get one, and held the phone to his ear, breathing heavily.

Blade picked up on the other line, sounding slightly angered. "What is it, old man?"

"Devi….Deacon, he took her…something about a ritual…Deacon is alive, Blade. And you know what that means."

"We're fucked."

"Yep. And La Magra might still be inside of him…" Whistler said softly, almost fearfully. "The shit is hitting the fan, Blade." The fear faded from his voice and he waited for a response.

"Yeah, I know. Where did he take her?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

"I'll be there in 10 minutes." He hung up without saying goodbye, and Whistler was used to it.

That's right, that's the ending! Do something about it. (Sorry about the short chapter, I really am.)