Matt tensed as he awaited the screams or, as it seemed to be in his guest's case, hisses of alarm. When none came, Matt looked to her in surprise. She hadn't fled and instead she stood regarding Broadway with curiosity. Matt decided that it was just another thing to add to the woman's mystery.

"Have you seen gargoyles before?"

The woman glanced up to Matt and nodded before she returned her gaze to Broadway.

"And apparently they're no abnormality to you," Matt murmured.

The detective headed up to the glass doors and tugged out his key. He unlocked the door, swung it open and gestured for Broadway to come in.

"Um..." Broadway appeared bashful, which for a gargoyle of his size almost seemed comical. "I...is this okay?"

"Well she's seen you."

Broadway bowed his head and fidgeted with his fingers.

Matt felt his own guilt as he recognised Broadway's. On the surface the gargoyle had an imposing frame with bat wings and amphibious ears, designed as a mishmash of features deemed monstrous in the animal world. This surface appearance kept him in the shadows with the rest of his clan, knowing and fearing people would be too quick to snap judgements, seeing their nightmares come to life in the gargoyles. Underneath he bore a deep need to be someone to something, a partner, a hero, someone needed and valued. His watching of vintage gangster movies coupled with knowing a pair of detectives had this need manifesting in an attempt to be another detective partner for them.

Matt understood Broadway's innocent desire to help and admirable thirst for adventure even if he had blundered in the delivery.

"Hey," Matt addressed him gently with a smile, "she seems to have met your kind before. No harm no foul buddy." He tacked on the buddy with ease knowing how much it would mean to the gargoyle.

The overstretched trenchcoat on Broadway wrinkled up as he raised his shoulders and lifted his head to fix an interested gaze on Matt.

"Really?"

Matt nodded as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah but look, she's kind of jumpy. She's had a rough time and I don't think she's from around here."

"Oh." Broadway looked past Matt to the woman who remained standing awkwardly in front of the front door. "Well where's she from?"

"I'm not sure." Matt lowered his hand and glanced back to her. "That's what I have to find out. Dinner first though. Are you hungry?"

Broadway's dark eyes brightened at the mention of food. "Sure, I could eat. What are we having?"

Matt suppressed a grimace as he took in the young woman. "Something vegetarian I'm afraid."

The detective headed back to the woman. "You can sit down you know." He gestured to his mismatched living room set, courtesy of quick finds in discount stores after his old furniture had been blown to kingdom come.

Her blue stare flitted from him to the lumpy looking couch before she headed over to it.

Matt headed across to the kitchenette section of the room where he hunted through the cupboards for something that might satisfy his appetite, the woman's picky tastes, and Broadway's endless desire to devour.

"We're having pasta guys," Matt announced as he tugged out a packet of shells, "because it expands so if you don't use measurements you've enough to feed China or Broadway in this case and it's probably the only thing I have that isn't expired."

As he rustled out pots and pans, the detective paused to tug off the lid of a jar of sauce and take a sniff. As it hadn't been opened before it seemed mercifully safe.

Broadway glanced from Matt to the woman before deciding he might do less damage away from the kitchen. He tried to take stealthy steps but with his weight it wasn't easy.

"Hi." He offered the woman a wave. "I'm Broadway."

"She doesn't talk," Matt called back to him, "shock I think."

The woman gave a small smile and offered up a wave in return.

"Well that's a pity," Broadway sympathised, "I'd like to know your name."

Matt wondered for a moment when he had last cooked for anyone else. He didn't think it had been in this apartment. He glanced down at the apron he had donned and gave a faint smile. It felt strange but nice to have guests.

"You aren't allowed dogs in here!"

"It's not a dog!"

"Well what is it then? Oh it looks like it has rabies!"

"It probably does, it's a coyote."

Matt turned his head to his front door at the sound of the commotion going on in his hall. He recognised one voice as the elderly but still spry Mrs Sweeney but the other was unknown.

"Oh good heavens! I'm calling security!"

"I would, he's no manners."

Matt heard a snarl, which had his neck prickling with alarm as he caught a flashback to the hospital.

A low hiss escaped the woman prompting Broadway to eyeball her with surprise.

Matt abandoned his cooking to tug out his gun and rush to the door. He opened it slowly and peered out, wary of startling his own neighbours with a loaded gun.

"Detective Bluestone, why am I not surprised?"

Matt stared at the man addressing him in shock. He knew he didn't know him, considering his fashion sense he wouldn't be the type of person Matt could forget. Colourfully clothed and wearing an impish grin, the man's appearance wasn't even the strangest thing about him, instead it was the definitely not a dog he held in a gold leash, which was taking a piss on the wall beside Matt's door.

"Call security!" Mrs Sweeney snapped. "Hurry detective, that animal is probably spreading disease!"

The animal in question let out a yip before it jerked forward, slinking in past Matt and almost pulling its handler into him.

The man gave an eccentric giggle. "Well now where have we ended our walk? Have we found the quarry we did stalk?"

"Who are you again?" Matt demanded.

"He only rhymes to seem important, just ignore him."

Matt felt an unexpected wave of shock wash over him. He jerked his head down to the coyote as he felt the heat drain from his face and turn it pallid. He slammed his front door closed with enough force to earn a protesting 'humph' from his neighbour.

"Hey did that dog just talk?"

Broadway's blunt question confirmed Matt's sanity at least but he wasn't sure what that might be worth right now.

"I'm not a dog."

"I see you've turned ghoulish but the gun is foolish."

Matt frowned as the colourfully clothed man addressed him in rhyme once more. He had his gun nozzle raised in his direction though he contemplated pointing it at the talking coyote.

"I've already had dog people once tonight."

"Well that's not us. Really Detective Bluestone, I know you are the less talented of your detective duo but try some observation skills."

Matt's mouth budded down in displeasure with the insult but his eyes widened with wonderment as the man addressed him with a tone of familiarity. He realised that not once had the man balked at the sight of the Broadway, which should have narrowed down the suspects for him.

Another hiss of alarm had Matt's blue gaze darting back to the woman. She had jumped up from the couch and now pointed repetitively to the kitchen.

Matt followed her gesture and cursed as he saw the water from the pasta bubbling and boiling over.

"Give me names," he demanded as he turned his attention back to the odd man and his odder pet.

"Puck."

"Coyote."

The gold leash gave a jingle as the coyote started to shake. Matt took a step back as he watched the coyote form slip away and dissolve into dust leaving a human wearing buckskins in its place.

Matt shook his head in disbelief as the man stood up and offered him a wide grin.

A gasp drew everyone's attention back to the woman. She had clapped her delicate hands up to her face and regarded the shapeshifter with wide eyes.

The shapeshifter turned his attention to her, regarding her with surprise. "Wow, I actually found you Riona but why are you here?"

"Bluestone please attend the water before the alarm sounds the call of your fire people," Puck addressed the detective in a dry tone.

Matt looked back to the kitchenette and cursed once more before he ran over to the mess. He moved hastily, sparing several looks back to the intruders, all too wary of a repeat of the hospital.

"Coyote," Broadway said the name distastefully, "you're not connected to Xanatos are you?"
Puck gave a snicker at this. "So close but so far, some detective you are."

Coyote, already looking rankled at Broadway's question, gave Puck a scornful stare as his lip curdled up to expose his teeth in a snarl. "Stop that rhyming, I feel like we've fallen into a fairytale book!"

Coyote shook his head before turning his displeased stare back to Broadway. "Xanatos ripped me off, not the other way round." He gestured to himself with a thumb. "I am Coyote, the trickster, shapeshifter and moon dancer, the first, the original, and the best."

"Um, I'm Broadway er...the gargoyle and the film noir buff?"

Coyote gave Broadway a grin. "Pleasure." He whipped his head back to face the young woman who had kept her stunned stare upon him. "Why aren't you talking Riona? I can't think you're a hostage to these two."
Puck snickered again in mockery. "Bluestone wouldn't have the skills."

Matt turned round from his abandoned dinner and waved a spatula in annoyance. "Hey, this is my home, show some respect!"

The woman's mouth sank at the corners as her large eyes became moist with tears. She shook her head despairingly as the tears slipped out to soak her cheeks.

"How do you know her?" Matt pried as he stepped over to them.

"How do you?" Puck queried.

Matt gave the silver haired man another stare of suspicion. "Have we met?"

"In another guise, another life, I was your-"

"He's Xanatos' butler," Coyote interrupted. He shrugged when Puck glowered at him. "I told you, I really can't take your rhyming anymore."

"Xanatos' butler?" Matt repeated. He furrowed his copper eyebrows in confusion as he studied Puck. "Owen?"

Puck rolled his eyes in put on dramatics. "Yes Bluestone, I am he and he is me but do not fear for his business is not why I am here. Did your partner divulge anything of the business of Avalon? It would make this quicker if she did and awkward if she didn't as that would imply a lack of trust in you two."

"She did actually," Matt snapped as he gave the spatula another shake. "But what's that to do with anything?"

"We're all from there," Coyote answered. He smiled back at the woman tenderly. "Riona too."

"Riona." Matt speaking the name had the woman turning her attention to him in surprise. "Is that you then?"

The woman nodded as she raised her hands to hug at her torso, pushing Matt's borrowed coat into it.

"How did you come by her detective?" Puck pried.

"How did you?" Matt demanded. "No one knows she's here."
Coyote tapped the tip of his nose with two fingertips. "Master sense of smell."

"Well I found her wounded in a lake," Matt admitted.

"Wounded in what way?" Coyote watched the woman even as he queried Matt.

Matt looked to her too, seeking permission to answer. "I don't know these guys, do you want them to know?"

The woman looked forlorn but she nodded.

"She had a few wounds, the worst on her back, as if the skin had been flayed."

"What?" Broadway gaped at the woman in horror and pity. "By who?"

"I don't know that yet," Matt admitted. "It only happened yesterday, I'm still trying to figure things out."

Coyote frowned as he stepped up to the woman. He reached out and squeezed her right arm gently. "Is that it then, did someone take your swan skin Riona?"

Her throat bulged and quivered slightly before a chorus of silent sobs escaped her without warning. It was odd to see how she made the motions of crying without any sound. She leaned up against Coyote and quivered as she burrowed into his soft buckskins, letting a whimper slip out as her hands clawed up his chest lightly.

"Well this is bad," Coyote said gravely.
Matt frowned as he felt a rush of annoyance for the Native American. He couldn't be sure if it was the blunt tone of doom or the way the man stood letting the woman cry against him without attempting to console her.

"Swan skin?" Broadway queried. "What does that mean?"

The gargoyle held only a fascination for the imp like man and the Native American as he took them in. He thought of the tales Angela and Goliath had told him of their voyage from Avalon about the world, going wherever the magical realm sent them. Then there had been the battle with Oberon to save Xanatos' son from magical clutches. Broadway knew from this of the Children of Oberon and knew of Puck yet knowing wasn't the same as experiencing.

"Nothing you gargoyles should concern yourself with," Puck scolded. "It is a matter for Avalon and best kept that way."

"I don't think so," Matt said. He walked over to Coyote and Riona and tapped her on the shoulder lightly with his free hand.

The woman pulled back from Coyote to expose a blotchy, reddened face up to Matt.

"I told you I would find the people that hurt you and I meant it."

"Who says it's people?" Coyote queried curiously. "In Avalon it could be any number of things."

"Well why don't you start by giving us suspects?" Broadway suggested. He had placed his hands on his hips and drew himself upright to appear intimidating.

Coyote wasn't fazed and Puck just smiled back mockingly, his eyes glittering with mirth at Broadway's hat.

"Because you don't want in this mess," Coyote said darkly. "It's dangerous."

"We can handle it," Broadway said confidently. "Anything to help a lady out." He tipped his hat and smiled to Riona.

Riona gave a small smile back.

Matt thought about the dog people at the hospital who claimed to be from the Wild Hunt but he held his tongue. Elisa had told him a little of her adventures about the world with Angela and Goliath but there had been too many names and tales for him to recall it all or remember who was friend and who was foe. He couldn't be sure how trustworthy Puck or Coyote were.

"Riona comes from Avalon," Coyote explained, "like us only she's not a child of Oberon, she is a child of Siegfried, a swan maiden and her disappearance to this world has started a war in Avalon." Coyote glanced down at Riona to give her a serious stare. "Your father overthrow Oberon while looking for you."

"Well you've found her now, won't that make it right?" Broadway queried.

Broadway looked down to Riona curiously as he wondered how someone so small and harmless looking could have started a war. He realised it didn't sound like it was her fault and that she did look lost and hurt, which supported both Matt's story and Coyote's.

Coyote sighed and shook his head. "She's got no swan skin, which means she has lost her curse but with it her powers and therefore cannot travel to Avalon. It also means someone now has the means to control her."

"What?" Matt looked at Coyote in disbelief. "Back up a minute, what do you mean by that?"
Coyote stared at the spatula the detective waved about erratically to emphasise his words. "Please put that down, my nose does not wish to be swatted."

Matt looked at the offending spatula and frowned as he lowered it.

"Look, the swan folk descend from cursed humans," Coyote explained, "which makes them immune to the sting of iron but tainted with magic and therefore able to live in Avalon. It started with their ancestors, royals all, princely brothers cursed to swan form by day until their princess sister sewed a shirt of nettles for each them and did it while staying mute, as the curse dictated she had to. The problem came when she went to sew the last shirt, she had been suspected of witchcraft for the odd garments she made and her silence, so she got put to a stake, in the day when her brothers could not take human form to tell of her innocence."

Coyote glanced down to Riona as he felt her tremble anew against him. "Shall I not tell them of your family history? I wish you no harm Riona, only help. If sharing with them is not the way of it let me know."

She shook her head before burrowing it against him once more.

Coyote nodded and glanced back up to Matt. "The paranoid townsfolk set the sister alight, she burned and the curse became sealed. The brothers arrived and from the ashes rose up a swan turned black with the heat, the sister. Since then the family line has always kept the swan curse but with it they inherit the royal trappings and a magic that has grown over time. The men are bound to be swans by day and human by night but the women can shift at will with swan skins. It is still a curse for these skins hold their power and if they are separated from them they are rendered mortal in all ways and if another holds that skin, they must submit to their will."

"And you're saying someone has hers?" Matt asked.

Coyote nodded sombrely. "You say she looked flayed, the implication then is that it got taken from her forcefully, wrenched right off her back."

"Which means someone saw a swan and knew it for something more," Puck mused.

"But why?" Broadway queried. He gestured to Riona with one hand. "They didn't take control of her or they haven't, so why do it?"

Coyote's face filled with unease as Riona gave a low keening noise of grief.

"To start a war," Puck answered solemnly, "and see Oberon off his throne."