Author's Note: I know. I know. It's been a very long time. You probably thought you'd never see another chapter of this story, huh? That is, of course, if my previous readers are still out there reading this. Welcome to all new readers, btw, and welcome back any of my old readers who are still reading WHR fanfic.

It feels good to publish something new again, even if it doesn't flow completely with the rest of the story. I have kept the plot the same as it was in my mind before I took my break from writing, though, so you can be assured that I haven't changed the direction of the plot simply because of the long gap. I have a lot more to say to all of you, but that will have to wait until the bottom of the post.

For now, let's get on with the story. I'm going to start it out with a sum up. (I know it's kind of weird to have a recap in a fanfiction, but it has been a long time, and I know it's hard to remember what was going on for those of you who have read the earlier chapters when they were first posted. I just grabbed the most important bits from the previous couple of chapters so that you can catch up quickly if you don't feel like going back and rereading everything before reading the new stuff.)

Chapter 26

Bad Girls Go to Hell Part 2

Previously in Libera Me…

"Amon," Robin murmured. "You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not talk about it, but--"

"You want to know about Simone," he interrupted.

She hesitated for a moment, marveling at his ability to predict the direction of her thoughts. Of all the hundreds of questions clamoring in her head at the moment, how had he known that would be the first one she would ask? "Yes."

"Simone is my daughter," Amon replied simply.

"I'm sorry if I've hurt you with my indecision, Robin," Amon said. "But I do know one thing. I'm tired of fighting whatever is happening between us, and I'm tired of second guessing myself every step of the way."

"Good," she said suddenly, and he opened his eyes in surprise at her tone. He found her smiling at him from a few inches away. "I'm tired of it too."

"Have we located Beatrice yet?"

"She's rented a cabin at a lake not too far from here," Dante answered simply. "The location wasn't too hard to find. Her victory last night made her a little overconfident, it seems."

"Let's hope that's what it is, and not another trick."

"Well, if Doujima's research is correct, we shouldn't have any trouble knowing whether it's a trick or not. Apparently, Robin should be able to sense Beatrice's presence when she's nearby."

"Which means Beatrice will be able to sense her as well," Amon stated with a frown.

"But, that's why we're going to use her tactics against her!" Doujima cried.

"And how are we going to do that?" Robin asked,

"By using the same spell she used on you!"

"What?" Amon asked flatly.

"Well," Sakaki replied, "the spell binds one person's power to another person's power, but the binding isn't just a one way street. In other words, Beatrice can draw energy from Robin, but Robin could also potentially take energy from Beatrice. The problem is that alone, Robin probably doesn't have enough power to overcome Beatrice's control of the connection. But, if we use the spell of binding we found to connect two other people to Robin, then she will have three times the power. "

"So, it's like a game of supernatural tug-of-war?" Dante laughed softly. "The more people Robin has on her team, the easier it is to win? Anyway, since only two of us can connect our power to Robin's, it makes sense that those of us with the strongest powers be the ones to do it. So…I guess that means Trish and I would be the obvious choices."

"No," Amon argued evenly. "I will be one of the two people."

At the moment, Karasuma was supposed to be back at the office covering for everyone else. She was supposed to be following Amon's orders and playing the role of just another loyal hunter in Solomon's employ. She was not. Sitting in the quiet of her car beneath the shade of a tree budding with leaves, Karasuma pressed her phone against her ear and listened closely to the ring at the other end of the line.

"This is Zealot, " a deep voice answered.

"Freelancer reporting in, " Karasuma said clearly.

"Miho, do you have news on the Devil's servant? "

"That's actually why I'm calling . . . " Karasuma paused. "I have a bad feeling about this situation. I'm not sure the STN-J can handle things on their own."

"Even with the demon hunters they have acquired?"

"Yes."

"You want backup," he concluded impassively.

Zaizen slapped one palm against the metallic surface of his desk before snapping, "Unacceptable. It must be ready by tonight. There is no halfway on this. If you think we have problems now with the witches, imagine a world teeming with demons. If we don't finish the new formula now, that is exactly what's going to happen." Zaizen nearly crushed the cigar in his hand as he pulled it away from his mouth. "You know damned well where you can find one. I want a dead body on that cold, hard laboratory table of yours within the hour."

Trish was just coming out of the local weapon emporium with a couple new toys for the party with Beatrice when she noticed the oversized van at the end of the street. It looked a little high tech to be in this neighborhood, but she quickly dismissed its displacement; she had no interest in bulky, armored vans, no matter how high tech they were. Unfortunately, her disinterest cost her precious time since she heard the shots heading for her moments too late.

"Amon," Robin whispered. "We did it. I can feel you . . . both of you." She looked up at Dante, but Amon kept his focus on the floor, afraid he would pass out if he so much as moved. She was right though. The connection had been created. He could feel the two of them not only tactilely, but also through that vague, shadowy place in his mind where the wind was still settling down into stillness.

"We did it," Dante agreed, his voice a rumble against Amon's ear. "Now the bitch can burn. Let's just hope she didn't notice."

And now, the story continues…

"Did you kill it?" Though the words were not directed at her, the harshness of her father's voice made Touko flinch, a habit ingrained in her by years of attempting to avoid his anger. She glanced at him warily, watching him turn his chair slowly as he continued a feral smile on his lips, "Excellent. We finally have a weapon we can use against them."

A leaf of paper, dislodged by the back of his chair as he turned, floated off his desk and drifted down to stop at Touko's feet. Narrowing her eyes and glancing back up to make sure her father's attention was still occupied elsewhere, Touko crouched slowly and pretended to wipe a smudge from her left shoe while her right hand slipped the small note into her sleeve. It could have been nothing more revealing than a reminder to pick up a suit at the dry cleaner's, but she couldn't simply ignore the possibility of learning more about her father's plans when such an opportunity presented itself. She would examine the paper later in the semi-privacy of her room.

"Yes. I want more tests conducted. Take it to examination room three." He shook his head before continuing. "No, I will look at the body later. The only dead demon I'm interested in seeing right now is Beatrice. We were lucky enough to track her to her new hideout and we can't waste this opportunity. I'm coming up." He had already risen from his chair and was riffling through a drawer for something. "Be prepared to enact the plan as soon as I arrive."

She frowned, watching him examine the orbo gun he had finally retrieved from the desk drawer. She couldn't help thinking he was in over his head where this orbo was concerned. He was obsessed with it; obsessed with destroying all witches by any means necessary. But he was playing with a fire he didn't understand, so blinded by his obsession that he couldn't see the danger. She didn't know very much about orbo or how it worked, but her father hadn't been studying it long enough to know everything about it either. He was normally cautious whenever witches were concerned, but he seemed to have thrown all caution to the wind because of this demon. Not that Touko could blame him for being frightened—Beatrice had certainly terrified her—but she thought he was being foolish to put so much trust in the power of orbo.

Slamming the phone down decisively, he looked up at her with an expression of apology she might have believed if she hadn't known him so well. "I'm afraid I have some business to attend to. You'll have to return to your room now." He jabbed at a button on the phone.

"Yes sir?" A voice inquired through the speaker.

"Send someone to escort my daughter back to her room." He paused, looking up at her with a tender expression that seemed foreign on his face. "This will all be over soon, Touko."

Bowing her head slightly in acquiescence, Touko followed the man who appeared in the doorway moments later, wondering why her father even pretended to care about her in the first place; he had never played the role of doting father well, and his sudden concern over her well being bothered her. What value did she have to him now that was absent before? She refused to believe that he still had a streak of humanity left; she couldn't imagine he had much room left in him for anything aside from his obsession with destroying everything remotely supernatural.

She fingered the note in her sleeve as they turned a corner into another hallway. Part of her wanted to do nothing but hide until this ordeal was over—she was horrified at the thought of being used again, by Beatrice or her father—and she didn't know if she could ever face Robin… or Amon again. Still, another part of her, a part that was gaining strength with every hour she spent locked up in this dismal factory, wanted to get involved and make her own path rather than follow the paths chosen for her by others. She wanted to take action and perhaps make up for at least some of the mistakes she had made.

Her escort motioned her to a stop at an intersection of corridors and she repressed a groan of frustration. Her hand clutched the note in anticipation as they waited for several suited figures to cross their path pushing a cloth covered gurney. Touko noticed a pale hand peeking out from beneath the cloth; it looked very feminine. She raised an eyebrow. Was this the "specimen" her father had been discussing on the phone?

When the hallway ahead was clear, her escort began walking again, clearly expecting her to follow. She glanced down the hall as they passed, watching the gurney disappear through a doorway. She could just make out the glimmer of computer readouts and laboratory equipment before the door shut with a snap.

"Here we are," her escort stated, gesturing at the door to her room. She entered obediently when the door opened, and listened to it shut behind her with a sigh. The walls were utterly blank. The bed was sterile and crisply made so that it looked as if it had never been slept on—not that she had done much sleeping in this room anyway. The lurid, fluorescent light splashing from the wall sconces against the flat white ceiling threatened to give her an instant headache, but she forced herself to focus. Sitting down slowly on the bed and facing away from the camera in the corner of the room, she discreetly pulled out the note.

She had to read it several times before she found anything meaningful in its cryptic words. It was a portion of a fax which had apparently been torn in several pieces, but after a few readings she managed to put the sentences together. The first several lines reported the success of a mission of some sort, while the next portion described the status and new location of someone named Simone. Her breath caught in her throat when she finally deciphered the last sentence. Two words connected in her mind and she felt an involuntary tear slip down her cheek.

Amon.

Child.

----

"Why the hell isn't she answering?" Dante demanded, snapping his phone shut with a scowl. I know she gets a little scatterbrained when she's shopping for weapons, but this is ridiculous even for her."

"Maybe one of us should go looking for her," Sakaki offered hopefully. Doujima swatted him on the arm.

"Nah," Dante sighed, shaking his head. "She'll turn up eventually, I'm sure. She always does."

Despite the expression of nonchalance on his face, Robin could feel Dante's worry through the thread connecting them. She could also feel Amon's agitation as he paced slowly around the room, hands clenched at his sides and lips pursed. They had only been connected for an hour or so, but already the sensation of experiencing their feelings as if they were her own was starting to wear on her. She hoped she wasn't projecting her own emotions on them as strongly as they were on her, but strong emotions tended to come through no matter how much you tried to hold them back. Frowning, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and tried to focus her thoughts amongst the swirl of invasive feelings clouding her mind.

"We can't wait any longer," Amon announced. "Tonight is our last chance to end this, and I won't go into this situation with half-baked, last-minute plans. If she can't keep track of the time, then—"

"Fine. Let's start working on that strategy, then," Dante interrupted crisply, an edge to his voice that Robin could feel grating against her spine. "No time to waste, right?" The two men exchanged a glare, and Robin frowned again, this time rubbing her temple.

"Robin, are you all right?" Doujima asked quietly, but her words were loud enough in the strained silence to draw everyone's eyes to Robin.

"I'm fine," Robin replied, quickly composing her features as best as she could. "Let's get to work." Though the emotion was positive this time, she almost drowned in the immediate wave of concern emanating from both Amon and Dante. "Really, I'm fine," she repeated, glancing at both of them with what she knew was a pathetic attempt at a smile.

A hint of guilt for his outburst shadowing his features, Dante dropped down into the nearest chair at the table, looking away with a scowl. Amon sat down at the opposite end of the table a moment later, a similar, subtler expression on his face. He unfolded a map and spread it out smoothly with gloved fingers. "This is a map made with satellite photos I gathered of the area. The cabin Beatrice rented is here." He pointed to a dark rectangle near an inlet of the lake. Pointing to a cliff jutting out into the lake near the rectangle, he added, "My guess is that Beatrice will center the ceremony here."

"Would she pick a place so close to the cabin?" Karasuma asked. "If she didn't hide the fact that she rented the cabin, wouldn't she at least choose a less obvious place for the ceremony itself?"

"Hey, just because I said it was fairly easy for me to find out about the cabin doesn't mean she didn't hide it. It's not like she was so stupid that she signed for the cabin as 'Beatrice, the Evil Demon from Hell," Dante said. "I'm just good."

"From what Trish told me this morning," Doujima said with a grin, "she was the one who found the cabin."

Sakaki rolled his eyes. "You weren't exactly coherent this morning, Doujima."

"Nothing was wrong with my ears," Doujima snapped.

"Hearing isn't the same as understanding."

"My point was," Dante interrupted, and Robin squirmed in her seat as she felt his annoyance, "that Beatrice wasn't issuing an invitation to the party this time. She didn't have much time to cover her tracks but she did take some steps to hide her location."

"Nevertheless, she knows we are searching for her, and I imagine she expects us to find her," Amon said dismissively. "She might not have announced her location, but she must realize that she didn't cover it up well enough to do anything more than delay its discovery. If she expects us to find the cabin, I doubt she would waste any effort choosing an obscure location for the ceremony. It would be inconvenient for her and probably wouldn't keep us from finding it at this point anyway."

"If she expects us to find her, then she probably has a trap set up for us," Sakaki sighed.

"She's running out of resources for traps," Karasuma said, pursing her lips. "She needs everyone she has for the ritual. I doubt she has followers to spare for guard duty."

"They wouldn't be her most powerful followers either," Amon said, "because the most powerful witches would be occupied with the ritual."

"She must have something else up her sleeve then," Doujima commented. "Unless she just doesn't consider us much of threat anymore. That would be a big mistake though. We can be truly annoying if we try."

"That's so true," Sakaki agreed. "Some of us more so than others."

"Wait a minute," Doujima gasped, ignoring Sakaki's comment. "This ritual she's performing… she doesn't need human sacrifices or anything, does she? I have no desire to be barbeque."

"I considered that possibility as well," Amon said quietly. "We can't be certain which ritual she will be using to open the door, but I had Michael research the subject yesterday anyway. Spells of this magnitude all require at least one human sacrifice."

"But you don't think she plans to use us, do you?" Sakaki asked, a horrified expression on his face.

"She could find a lot easier sacrifices," Dante said. "All she has to do is ensorcell a few easily influenced humans."

"Great!" Doujima complained. "Now we have to deal with saving innocents too."

"All of this is speculation at this point," Amon reminded. "But, it is likely that she will need sacrifices to open the door, so we need to keep the possibility in mind. Now, back to the location I pointed out earlier." He returned his attention to the map. "Michael found a number of common requirements for the ritual in his research—certain attributes necessary in the location where such a ritual is taking place for it to work. This is the only area on this side of the lake that fulfills all of them. I don't think that the proximity of this location to the cabin she chose is coincidence."

"What do you think, Robin?" Doujima asked. "You're the expert on these kinds of things."

Robin felt Amon's surprise almost before she felt her own. She had been content to remain silent during the conversation unless she had a strong objection to something that was said, but Doujima kept drawing attention to her. She looked at Doujima uncertainly for a moment before looking more closely at the map. She noted the concentration of elements around the area Amon had pointed out, as well as their arrangement relative to the location; the spot was embroiled in various forms of natural energy. Something felt wrong about it, though. The abundance of water canceled out some of the other elements, and water would not be Beatrice's natural ally, especially in the kind of magic she was trying to perform.

She felt Amon's eyes on her and knew he could feel her doubts through their connection. She ignored him as best as she could as she began scanning the rest of the map for a better location. A grassy clearing east of the cabin caught her attention because of a similar concentration of elements around it. It didn't have as many sources of energy, but the ones she could identify were in the right places. Then she noticed a flaw in her theory when she saw an outcropping of rock upsetting the balance; it would be a strong source of earth power and it was on the wrong side of the clearing to be helpful.

"Any thoughts?" Karasuma asked a little impatiently.

"I don't think it's the right place," Robin said hesitantly, her eyes still tracing the line made by the outcropping of rock near the clearing. "It has a lot of attributes that make it useful for magic, but they aren't in the right proportion for Beatrice's spell." She followed the line made by the rock to another line made by a nearby stream and then expanded her field of vision to incorporate a line of pine trees in the other direction. She gasped and traced the lines with her finger. They made a circle with the grassy clearing at the center. "This is it."

"I didn't notice that before," Amon said softly. She shivered at the emotion she felt from him; it was something close to awe. "It doesn't have everything on Michael's list, but the way the geography makes a circle around it seems a little too perfect."

"But how would Beatrice know what the geography looks like from above?" Sakaki asked skeptically.

"The lines around this place create a power that Beatrice would be able to feel," Robin replied. "She wouldn't need to see the lines to feel their effect."

"So, how are we going to approach this location? There's a lot of ground to cover," Dante asked.

"At least it's not very easily defended," Amon pointed out. "There are several points of entry." He pulled a topographical map out of a stack of papers and spread it out on top of the first. "The clearing is the lowest point in that area. We should be able to get a good view of her defenses before we attack."

"Amon?" Karasuma said suddenly. "It's about time for me to be getting back to the office. The Chief was suspicious about everyone's absence earlier. He'll be even more suspicious if none of us come back before the end of the day."

Amon nodded. "I'll contact you after the meeting with the rest of the details. I want you to coordinate the mission from the office with Michael tonight."

Karasuma seemed a little surprised. "You don't want me in the field?"

"No. Michael will need your help, and you're injured."

"Okay… Then, I'll be waiting for your call."

"See you later, Miho," Doujima said with a wave.

Dante watched Karasuma leave with a frown, his eyes shifting to the clock above the door when she was gone. Robin glanced at him, sensing his worry flaring again. The reminder of the time had probably reminded him of Trish's continued absence. He reached for his cell phone on the table and covered it with his hand, fingering the plastic edges anxiously as he returned his attention to the map. Without thinking, Robin found herself placing one of her hands on top of his in reassurance, but the physical touch only increased her awareness of his feelings. He looked at her, and his silver-blue eyes smiled despite the crease of worry between his eyebrows. Patting her hand lightly with his other hand, he leaned closer to her and murmured, "Don't worry about me, kiddo. She likes testing my patience, is all. She's fine, I'm sure."

------

It was cold.

For an uncertainly long measure of time, this was all her muddled senses could register. Her eyes were closed; the effort required to lift her eyelids seemed to be too great to even be contemplated at the moment, so she decided to let them be. Bright, flickering light filtered through her eyelids, and by its hue told her it was artificial. The stale, hygienic air confirmed this conclusion, along with the steady hum of machinery surrounding her. Metallic noises echoed in her ears—clicks and beeps and the shuffling of fabric filling the otherwise imposing silence of the room with a chaos almost overwhelming to her limited senses.

When consciousness had first started to assert itself in slow, meaningless bits of sensory imagery, she had felt so numb that she doubted her own existence. It was a very existential way of viewing her current state, but slowly feeling had returned to her limbs—along with the sensation of cold—though she had felt reluctant to test her control over her own body. She felt as if she had been away from it for awhile now, and she wasn't sure it would like her intruding on it again.

With infinitesimal slowness, she finally decided to give movement a try. Her index finger twitched ever so slightly, rewarding her with the sensation of cool, smooth metal. That was what she was laying on, she realized. A little less cautiously, she decided to try her eyelids next. After lifting them only a fraction, she closed them reflexively, the bright, overhead light leaving afterimages in her retinas. The process of becoming accustomed to the light took longer than she would have liked, but eventually she managed to see the grey, unadorned ceiling tiles around the light fixture without blinking unnaturally.

Now, for the next question. Where in the world was she? Her gut told her she wasn't simply inside. She felt an instinctive distance between her and the outside world, as if she were underground—far underground—with layers, upon layers of dirt and concrete separating her from the sky. How she knew this fact, she wasn't sure, but she could feel it too strongly to doubt the sensation.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced at it without moving her head. A blurry image of a figure in a lab coat slid across her vision. So, she was underground in a lab of some kind. How did that happen?

Memories hit her gut like a hammer hitting an anvil.

Trish relived the memory then, as if for the first time.

She was walking across the street, weighted down with shopping bags filled with artillery. How ironic; she was carrying a surplus of weapons and ammunition, but none of them could save her before strange bullets began pelting her. Slowly, she looked down at the wounds to find strange, luminous green liquid spreading out from the places where the bullets had smashed against her body. She had expected to see blood. How odd.

Her shopping bags fell with an unearthly slowness, as if gravity had decided to take a day off, but her knees hit the pavement without any perception of having changed position, as if there was a short in her mind's circuit and her senses weren't recording things properly. Then, she had stopped sensing entirely and lost consciousness.

Though it had seemed more finite then that, she realized, as the immediacy of the memory faded away. At the time, she had felt as if everything was over. She had felt as if she wasn't simply closing her eyes for a period of time—she was closing them for the last time. It felt as if she had died. But here she was, in a laboratory of some sort, quite alive.

A shuffle of fabric and a panicked exclamation from her right caught her attention. "It—it's awake!"

"You're hallucinating. It was dead when we brought it here. It—No! It can't be…"

Trish found herself sitting up before she remembered telling her body to move; she was relieved to find that movement wasn't as difficult as she'd thought it would be. "Where am I?" she demanded of the wide-eyed men around her, but she heard no coherent response.

One of the men reached for a gun and aimed it at her, firing a shot before she could even react, but when the bullet smashed against her left shoulder she felt a surge of energy course through her. Jumping off the examining table, she made a taunting gesture to the man, daring him to fire again. He did, and she didn't even try to avoid the shots. Whereas the strange bullets had instantly made her feel weak when she had been on the street, they seemed to have an opposite effect on her now. She felt strong, stronger than she had ever felt before, and each bullet seemed to fill her with new strength.

She decided to test that strength. Summoning her power, she felt a flood of energy wash over her, filling her beyond her capacity to contain it. Without thinking, she found an outlet for the power, slamming her hand against a nearby computer panel. Electricity arced from computer to computer, the lights flickered fitfully and the sparking energy finally exploded from every wire in the room, filling the air with energy. When Trish finally cut off the flow of power, the men in the room were barely more than a pile of ashes and bones.

Her nose twitched at the smell of burnt flesh, but she immediately turned her attention to escape. She didn't know who these people were, or why they had tried to kill her, but she had a feeling they were somehow connected to Beatrice. She needed to get in touch with Dante and the others and share information before they were attacked as well.

-----

What kind of mascot is that, anyway? Karasuma wondered, looking at the enormous pink stuffed animal leering from a shelf in front of her, its cone-shaped head and gangly body dressed in bright blue overalls only emphasizing its alien appearance. As far as she could tell, the mascot of Tokyo Tower had absolutely nothing in common with the tower itself, and yet there were dozens of the figures of all shapes and sizes adorning the shelves of the gift shop. She wasn't sure why she was surprised; everything has a mascot, so why shouldn't Tokyo Tower? Still, she might have felt more at ease with the universe if the pink creature had at least some small thread of connection with the landmark.

The relevance of the mascot seemed unimportant compared to its merchandising value, she realized, as she watched an American child grab one of the hideous pink toys from the shelf and proudly show it to her mother. Smiling at the girl, Karasuma supposed she had been overanalyzing things a bit. A frown replaced her fleeting smile, though, when she remembered why she was here in the first place. Unpleasant thoughts about what would happen to the innocent tourists filling the gift shop if Beatrice succeeded in her plans made her moment of marketing introspection seem hollow and meaningless in comparison.

Shaking her head, she wandered away from the shop, checking her watch again. Five more minutes. Looking out over the panoramic view of the busy city, she felt a sudden desperation to preserve it in her memory, as if wishes and hopes could have any impact at all on the invisible nightmare looming on the horizon. Touching the railing with a bare hand, she closed her eyes in shock, momentarily overwhelmed by the sea of emotions trapped in this one length of metal. Within the metal's recent memory, hundreds of people had stood in the same spot she was standing, each with their own hopes and dreams, thoughts and concerns as they leaned closer to the glass, snapping pictures and searching for landmarks in the sea of buildings and streets below. They had no idea that the world they knew could end at any moment—and very likely would end if a handful of hunters from the STN-J failed to stop it from happening.

"Dreadful city isn't it?" a man behind her said in a snarky Brittish accent. "So many bloody boring buildings as far as the eye can see." She was fluent in English, but his accent was more difficult for her to interpret than most. She glanced at him as he stepped up to the railing beside her, pale blue eyes squinting at the sunny day outside. Black hair cropped short—but still shaggy enough to curl limply on his forehead—shadowed his angular features. He was younger than she had expected.

"You're the Hermit," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he answered with a shrug. Turning his back on the city and leaning against the railing, he added, "I liked Kyoto better, I think—though this whole bloody country makes me claustrophobic."

"England is even more cramped, as I recall."

The Hermit glanced at her with an odd expression, giving her the impression he knew rather a lot of things she did not know and was unlikely to find out in the near future; his reasons for impressing this fact upon her in response to her simple statement, though, she understood even less. "So it is." He looked away, pale gaze searching the crowd of tourists silently for a moment. "You called me here for a reason, I assume, though I think you might have picked a better meeting spot."

"It's inconspicuous," Karasuma replied, already growing weary of the Hermit's negative attitude. "And public."

"'Public' is a good word for it. Though, from what little I know of animation in this country, Tokyo Tower is a rather conspicuous landmark indeed."

"Well, real life is not anime," Karasuma countered bluntly. "In real life, Tokyo Tower is little more than a tourist trap and a less than glamorous destination for school field trips."

The Hermit smirked. "I'd gathered that much, at least. Still, you have to admit it's a little ironic. Here we are, talking about the end of the world in a locale that—in at least several popular works of fiction—figures rather heavily in such events."

Karasuma merely returned his cheeky grin with an exasperated frown. At the time, she had thought the Revenant's offer to employee the Hermit on her behalf since he could spare no agents of his own was a generous one, but now she was beginning to feel as if it had simply been a very unamusing joke. The Revenant had never been known for his sense of humor, but perhaps he had simply been misunderstood.

"Well," the Hermit continued, shrugging slightly, "I certainly hope you didn't hire me to deal with any anti-gravity sword fights or twenty story tall giant robots. I'm afraid I left my Gundam at home."

"Mr., um, Hermit…" Karasuma began, attempting to steer the topic back in the direction of the point. "As I understand it, you've come a long way for mission, not a pleasant conversation."

Frosty blue eyes met hers with a frigid intensity. "Crowds make me nervous."

"Then we should finish our business soon so you can escape them."

"Go on."

"We have only a few hours left to stop a half-demon from opening a doorway between the demon world and ours. We have a location and a relative time for her ritual to take place, but she has managed to be two steps ahead of us since we started tracking her, and she doubtless has a backup plan in place. You are our backup plan. I don't want to reveal my duplicity or our organization at all unless it becomes absolutely necessary in order to stop Beatrice."

"So, something low-key then. Do you have anything in mind?"

"The ceremony is taking place outside—"

"Naturally."

"We won't have access to the site beforehand because we don't want to tip her off, so we can't set up a trap."

"Just as well. Projectile weapons have always been my forte anyway. Are there any trees around this location? Higher ground?"

"Yes."

"Great. I'll snipe."

Karasuma lifted a brow. "Do you think a bullet will stop a demon? We've experimented with bullets and orbo already and failed miserably."

A stilted grin twisted the Hermit's lips. "You don't have access to the kind of ammo I use. She may be good, but I doubt she can regenerate a head."

"She has powerful personal shields, and the ceremony will only give her more power."

"I'm not without power myself. I can get around that if you and your friends at the STN-J fail that badly. I will get a shot in." He smirked. "And I will only need one."

"I hope you are as good as you claim. I have a bad feeling we will need the backup."

--------

The note felt sweaty in her hand, but Touko refused to put it down. She had made her decision. She wouldn't follow her father any longer. He was out of control, and beyond help. All that was important now was to find Amon and warn him that his daughter was in danger.

His daughter. Touko swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. He had never been hers, she realized. She had felt jealousy for the way he looked at Robin, but even that jealousy had been unfounded. She had no right to be jealous because he had never belonged to her in the first place. Blinking back tears, angry at her own weakness, she folded the note carefully and slipped it into her pocket. She couldn't afford to be a coward any longer. Beatrice couldn't use her again because she wouldn't be weak again. She would stand up for herself for once, and she would help Amon, even knowing he belonged to someone else.

Her knees shaking only a little, she rose to her feet and faced the door, biting her lower lip. She needed to get out of here. From the sounds of his conversation, her father would be occupied away from the Factory for a while. If she was going to make a move, it had to now. She took a step forward and the door slid open. Good. It wasn't locked. Her escort was still standing outside the door, a gun in his hand.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her, and she steadied her nerves.

Thinking quickly, she replied, "I need to use the restroom."

The man nodded, and touched a panel next to the door. She hated that every time she needed to so much as go to the bathroom, the guards had to check in and report where they were going and why. It was degrading, and made it obvious that they weren't there merely for her protection. But now things were going to change. She wasn't sure how she would escape—the bathrooms didn't exactly have windows and her escort was the one with the gun—but she would have to just take one step at a time.

Just as she was formulating that next step, the lights flickered.

"What was that?" her escort snapped when they flickered again, crossing the hall to the nearest wall panel.

Touko noticed that they were near the intersection of hallways where she had seen the gurney. That meant they were also close to the elevators. Visually determining her escort's level of distraction as he called in to his superiors, she took a few steps closer to the middle of the intersection, straining to see down the hall in the direction she figured the elevators to be. A moment later, the lights flickered violently and a loud crack of electricity followed by a scream drew her attention back to her escort.

Bright arcs of lightning were jumping out of the panel he still had a finger pressed against and his body spasmed. Squinting through the bright light, she noticed what she thought was smoke rising from the man's skin and abruptly turned away, sickened. She heard a thud as he fell to the floor and the lights finally resumed their steady glow, but she didn't turn to look.

This was her chance.

She had taken two steps before she heard a door open in the hallway behind her. She took off running, but the slippers her father had given her to wear in the Factory didn't have much traction on the slick, polished floor and she slid into a wall.

"Hey!" a feminine voice called from behind her, the click of boots coming closer.

"You can't make me stay here!" Touko screamed, clawing her way back to her feet and taking off again, the dull light of the elevator readout within sight.

"I don't want to make you stay here," the voice replied with a laugh, now much closer. "I want to get out too. Do you know the way?"

Touko paused, looking back over her shoulder at the lissome blond standing behind her. She was startled for a moment by the woman's risqué attire as well as her obvious failure to fit in with anything belonging in the Factory. Suddenly, the connection clicked in her mind, and she gasped, "You were the one on the gurney! The one they brought in."

The woman smiled. "Yeah, that was me. I still don't know what they wanted with me, but I wasn't about to find out. Did they capture you too?"

Touko considered the woman's question, glancing at the elevator out of the corner of her eye. "Not exactly."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter at the moment. Now, you know a way out of here?"

Finally making the decision to trust this woman, Touko answered. "The elevator's right over there. That's the only way out."

"Then they'll expect us to go that way. We'd better hurry."

They rushed down the hall in the direction of the elevator, only to find their path blocked by a number of men in full body armor moments before they arrived. Touko stopped in her tracks, fear pounding in her veins. This wasn't good. They were trapped, and now she would be associated with this woman who was obviously their enemy. She glanced at the woman, only to find her smirking.

"Nice toy guns you've got there," the woman said, stepping in front of Touko as if to shield her. "Go ahead and shoot me if you must—if you don't mind shooting a woman who isn't carrying a weapon. But please, try not to hit my hostage."

Touko crouched behind the woman when the men let loose a barrage of gunfire. What was she doing? This was madness.

The sound of the woman's laughter made Touko lift her gaze again. The woman was covered with green goo Touko recognized as orbo, but otherwise she seemed to be unharmed. "Mmm, I love the way that makes me feel," the woman purred and the men took a few steps back, looking at each other in alarm. "Do you want to know how it feels?" Touko took a step away from the woman as she snarled and electricity jumped to her fingertips, shooting across the room in bright flashes.

Moments later, none of the men were left standing, and the woman grabbed Touko's arm and pulled her toward the elevator. Touko was too confused to complain, and too elated at the possibility of escaping to truly care.

When they were finally standing in the elevator and the floor indicator was smoothly counting its way up to the surface, the woman turned to Touko, brushing orbo off her clothes. "My name's Trish, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Touko." Questions clamored for Touko's attention, but what she finally said was, "You're not human, are you?"

Trish smirked. "No. I'm not. But believe me, I'm not the demon you need to worry about."

"Demon!" Touko pressed her back against the side of the elevator, as if she could somehow slip through the wall and disappear. "Like Beatrice?" Her last words were a whisper, but caught Trish's attention completely.

"You know Beatrice?"

Touko tried to swallow, but her mouth felt unbelievably dry. "She... My father said he was going to kill her."

"Your father…?"

Looking at the ground in shame, Touko whispered, "He's the one in charge of this place."

"The one who attacked me!" Trish snarled. "The one who thought he'd killed me with those green bullets? Well, he's in for a nasty surprise, then." She shook her head in disgust.

"Why? Are you one of Beatrice's allies?" Touko accused, fingering the orbo gun she had snagged off of one of the bodies on her way to the elevator."

"Not even close," Trish shook her head.

"Then why did you say that?"

"Your father is making a mistake. All he's going to do by hitting her with this green crap is make her stronger," Trish snapped, leaning back against the opposite wall of the elevator, her arms crossed over her chest. "Dante's gonna be pissed," she added under her breath.

"Wait." Touko shook her head. She knew that name. "Dante?"

------

"Does anyone have anything else to add?" Amon asked as if he were daring anyone to find a hole in his strategy.

"No way," Sakaki muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I think that covers everything in exhausting detail," Doujima agreed with a sigh.

Dante listened to the conversation around him distantly, staring at his phone as he opened and closed it methodically. Why wasn't she answering? This was beyond the limit of Trish's immaturity. She had been out of touch for too long, and now Dante was beyond concerned and barreling straight toward panic. He shouldn't have brought her into this. No matter how angry she got with him for failing to treat her as a full partner, he should have left her out of this case. It was just too dangerous.

He felt the plastic of the phone creak in his fist and he forced himself to slowly relax his hand and put the phone down on the table. Taking a deep breath, he noticed that someone was watching him. Robin's expression was full of concern he could feel as well as see, and he forced a smile for her. Then he noticed the weight of another pair of eyes on him and found Amon regarding him as well. Both of them knew exactly how he was feeling right now, so of course they would be distracted by it. He needed to learn to filter his own emotions a little better, he supposed.

Scowling, Dante rose to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back. "I'm going to go look for Trish," he announced.

"We don't have time for that right now," Amon countered quickly, and Dante could feel the steely edged determination hidden behind Amon's mask.

"The hell we don't," Dante snapped. He placed his hands palm down on the table, hearing the Doujima's and Sakaki's conversation fall to a silent halt. "She's my partner, and I want to know what happened to her."

"We don't know that anything did."

"It's been a long time. She would have checked in by now."

"Regardless, we don't have the time to find out why she didn't."

"We don't have the time? Trish is a part of this 'well-designed' plan of yours that we spent the last couple hours outlining. I would think her presence would be important to you."

Amon's features hardened. "I purposely composed my strategy with the possibility of her absence in mind. Her role in the mission is mirrored by Doujima's."

"Doujima doesn't have Trish's power." Dante could sense Amon's annoyance, and the emotion only intensified his own anger.

"Having Trish with us is preferable, of course, but we can proceed without her."

"Is it that easy for you to just write someone off?" Dante's anger had escalated to a dangerous point. He heard Doujima gasp and knew that his aura must have been glowing by now.

"I'm simply preparing for all possibilities. I don't know why she hasn't returned yet, but I think the odds of her absence being reasonably explained are getting slimmer by the minute."

A sudden cry of anguish that Dante could both hear and feel stopped the reply in his mouth. Robin had doubled over in pain, her hands clawing at the surface of the table. "Robin!" The pain hit him then like a jackhammer to his stomach and he wondered if they were already too late. Perhaps Beatrice had already begun the ritual.

"Robin?" Amon demanded through clenched teeth. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," she managed to gasp through clenched teeth. "Beatrice is—" Her words cut off as she cried out wordlessly. When she had caught her breath again, she continued, "I think… I think she's dying."

Dante met Amon's gaze, and for a moment they were of one mind.

Then, Dante's phone rang. Scooping it up with a surge of hope, he answered, "Dante."

"Dante, we have a problem."

"Trish!"

-----

Zaizen watched the destruction from afar, a grin twisting his face so hard it hurt. They had caught the demon unaware. She had been infuriated and lashed back quickly at their attack, sending sparks flying through the air; he had lost many of his men to her flames, but he was willing to make a few sacrifices. A few rounds of orbo bullets later the demon had weakened, dropping to her knees and screaming in agony; her screams were almost physically painful to hear, a shrill sound piercing through the ear and straight to the chest.

But now the screams were starting to fade and the tightness in his chest was loosening as if Beatrice was loosing her grip on her powers. It wouldn't be much longer now before she collapsed. The world would be saved. He would be a hero and his orbo would finally gain the respect it deserved. A short laugh escaped from his lips as he thought about it. Solomon would be at his mercy. He could do away with those hunters—starting with Amon and that witch, Robin—and begin cleansing the world of all witches forever.

As the sound of the struggle died down, he heard the quiet ring of his cell phone. Raising an eyebrow, he pulled it out and was surprised to find the Factory's number registering on the screen. "Yes, what is it?" he snapped. His jaw fell slack and his heart fell to the soles of his feet. "What did you say!"

----------

"What did she say?" Amon growled, struggling to focus past the waves of pain hammering at him through his connection to Robin. The wind inside him was beginning to rise, seeing the pain as a threat and wanting to fight back against it. Unfortunately, that would only hurt Robin since she he was only feeling Beatrice's pain through her. His control over the wind was becoming more and more tenuous with every moment.

Dante leaned on the back of a chair for support, tossing his phone on the table. "She said that your boss did something stupid."

Amon's eyes focused finally on Dante, a rush of adrenaline overcoming the pain. "What?"

"He sent some of his thugs to attack her with that orbo you're all so proud of," Dante replied through gritted teeth.

"The Factory attacked Trish?" Sakaki asked incredulously.

"Where is she now?" Amon asked, his knuckles white as they clutched at the edge of the table. The pain seemed to be intensifying—though he hadn't thought it possible—and the wind inside of him was kicking up into a storm.

"On her way here. And she's—"

Amon knew why Dante stopped mid-sentence because he was just as shocked. The pain had suddenly stopped entirely. For a moment panic had replaced it as he looked at Robin in fear that she had given up against the onslaught and that the pain had stopped simply because their connection was no longer there. He sighed in relief when he saw her gasping for breath, but quite alive. Doujima was at her side, rubbing comforting circles over her slender back. "It stopped," Robin whispered, looking up finally. "Do you think she's… dead? I can't feel her anymore."

"I don't know," Dante admitted, "But I don't think so. Trish is on her way here now with new information about Beatrice—and she said it's bad news."

Amon sighed, closing his eyes as he attempted to quell the storm still raging inside of him. He itched for the vial of orbo he had given up before becoming connected to Robin and Dante; taking control of his craft was proving to be even harder than he had expected. He felt a warm hand touch his arm and his eyes snapped open to see Robin's tired green eyes looking at him in concern. The craft erupted inside him again, recognizing her as the source of his previous pain, and he grit his teeth with the effort of suppressing it.

"You have to take control of it, Amon," she whispered. "You own it. It doesn't own you."

He felt calm seeping into him through her touch and he felt another source of strength also flowing into him from across the room. Slowly, he took hold of the wind and forced it back into the cage he had created for it long ago, fighting it all the way. Feeling exhausted by the effort, he leaned back in his chair and sucked in a deep breath. Robin's small hand was still clutching his forearm possessively, but he was reluctant to break the contact so he let it be.

The room came back into focus slowly. He heard Doujima and Sakaki whining about the fact that the news was always bad, and wondering why they couldn't have some good news for once. Then he felt Dante's eyes focused on him and he turned his own gaze toward the half-demon.

Dante seemed to have been waiting for his attention. His expression was stern. "You're expending far more effort in keeping your power under control than we can afford. I know you want to protect Robin, but I think you would have been worth more to her outside this connection than in it. You're wasting energy fighting your craft and we're wasting energy helping you fight it. We can't have our attention divided between you and Beatrice tonight."

For once, Amon didn't snap back with an angry retort. Guilt choked his throat as he realized that Dante was right. He had been selfish to demand a place in the triumvirate, especially when he knew his own weakness against his craft. He could feel Sakaki and Doujima looking at him now as well, and he focused his gaze on the table, feeling the image he had spent years cultivating crumble to pieces around him. He hated vulnerability, but he loathed having his vulnerability exposed even more. He wanted them to think he was invincible because their belief in his indestructibility let him trick himself into thinking he actually was. Without that belief, he felt like he had no place leading anyone.

"Amon," Robin murmured, her grip on his arm tightening. Amon couldn't meet her eyes though he knew she could already feel his shame. The tables had turned and now she was suddenly the one with all the experience and knowledge and he was barely more than a child stumbling in the dark. "Amon," she said again, this time with more urgency. He admired her for risking his anger to get his attention. "You can't control your craft when you are afraid of it."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "I'm not—"

"She's right, Amon," Dante said seriously, and Amon wondered if that was the first time the demon hunter had actually used his name instead of a pseudonym. "Don't bother lying about it. We can feel your fear. And if you ask me, it's damn foolish."

Amon narrowed his eyes at Dante.

Laughing at the severity of his expression, Dante said, "Don't give me that look. I'm not insulting you. I just think you're being an idiot. The strength of your power is nothing compared to the strength of your personality; give your craft the glare you're giving me, and it wouldn't dare oppose you."

"Yeah, really," Sakaki chimed in. "Your craft can't be any scarier than you are."

Doujima snorted, but quickly wiped the grin off her face when Amon shifted his glare in her direction.

"Everyone is afraid of their craft at first," Robin said reassuringly. "You just don't have the time to overcome that fear naturally. But, I know you will overcome it."

Amon was quickly growing tired of this topic of conversation; he didn't like having his feelings and inadequacies analyzed, especially by his subordinates. Sensing Amon's patience wearing thin, Dante cleared his throat. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention that Trish is bringing someone along with her."

Amon forgot his discomfort immediately. "Someone? What kind of someone?"

"She helped Trish escape from the lab. I guess she's your boss' daughter."

"Touko!" Robin gasped. Amon's insides twisted and his jaw clenched almost painfully.

"What does your roommate have to do with anything?" Doujima asked.

"Touko is Zaizen's daughter," Amon answered curtly. Doujima gaped at him, but he didn't have the patience for her questions at the moment. "Zaizen must have taken her to the Factory to keep her safe. But why would she want to leave?"

Dante shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to ask her yourself when she gets here."

So that's it… for now, at least. Like I said, I'm not sure that it has the same flow as the other chapters or if it even flows with the story all that well, but I actually wrote parts of it months ago so hopefully it wasn't too off. There was a lot of Touko and Trish (and would you believe how many times I switched their names around?) and not enough smut, but hey, I've got a little plot buildup to do before I can get to the next part. This was a girl-heavy chapter, I guess… but it is titled "Bad Girls Go to Hell" after all.

I know some of you may have issues with the Karasuma plot, and I'm not entirely sure of it myself, but it was one of those parts I wrote a long time ago and I liked it too much to just cut it out. Why did I like it so much, you ask? Well, that would be because I inserted one of my characters from my original story. I figured if this was going to be a crossover, why not go all the way? Plus I wrote it right after my trip to Japan last year (I can't believe it's been over a year! Wahhh!) and loved the Tokyo Tower stuff. I seriously can't believe it's been so long since I've updated this story that I haven't mentioned anything about my Japan trip…

(If you're interested in hearing more about my trip to Japan, btw, I do have a photo slideshow up still here: (remove the spaces) http/ japantravel05 . fireflymkt . com

The slideshow may take awhile to load. I apologize! I knew far less about Flash back in those days. Speaking of Japan, I'm planning on going back in September with Pop Japan Travel again. My friend, lizalou, is living over there right now and I have to go visit her! Plus the tour includes the Tokyo Game Show and who's going to say no to that? Not I!)

Oh, and can I just say that this day in my story is the longest day in the history of days? I promise there will be NO MORE STRATEGY MEETINGS in this story. This is getting freaking ridiculous. All these people do is strategize all the time! Seriously though, you have some definite high points to look forward to in the next several chapters: Touko's return and the awkwardness that brings; Amon's vulnerability in fighting his craft; the final Boss battle with Beatrice; some plot twists; Sakaki goofiness simply so I can reference new video games I've played; and mayhap even an appearance from Nagira. Oh, what? You wanted more romance? Come on, this is me we're talking about. I don't feel fulfilled if I don't work in romance somewhere. And I apologize to Michael lovers; he will appear in the next chapter!

Anyway, I don't think I'm going to be able to respond to all the reviewers this time (there are so many it would take pages and pages), but I have to say your support has been overwhelming and I think you for all of your reviews. I've gotten several emails begging me to continue writing and expressing support, and I wanted to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart! In fact, I don't know if I would have found the motivation to actually sit down and work on this right now if it hadn't been for an email I received from evilteddybear. I had been thinking about this story off and on for a long time and feeling guilty for not posting anything new, but all I needed in the end, I guess, was one last kick in the butt to make me sit down and write on it again.

My excuses are similar to the ones I have used in the past, but I think the biggest reason for my gap in posts would have to be that I got burnt out on the Witch Hunter Robin fandom. Can't imagine why… (have you noticed how long this story is? I don't know how misora does it—her story's much longer than mine!) So, I got tired of the story for a little while and needed a break. I worked on my original story again and got really into that. Then, I went through a string of other anime and video game obsessions (including Death Note, Honey and Clover, Scrapped Princess, Fullmetal Alchemist, Bleach, Angel Sanctuary, Ouran High School Host Club, MeruPuri, etc, etc, etc). And finally, I have so many other creative endeavors (drawing, graphic design, music) that they sometimes sap my creativity completely, leaving nothing left over for writing.

But I'm back, and I'm going to finish this story, gosh darnit! I may not post the next chapter immediately, so don't despair, but I will try my best not to take too long! Not another year and a half, certainly! Hopefully no more than a few weeks.

And now that fanfiction . net has this great reply to reviews feature, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm going to be responding to your reviews! All three of you! (I hope there are more of you left out there than that who still want to read my story…)

P.S. Anyone been playing Kingdom Hearts II?