"I'm amazed he managed to stay away from the Nazis for so long, living so close to Paris!"

Emilie sipped her tea with a serious look on her face and sighed, glancing away from her visitors to find the picture of her grandparents that Nath had given her the previous week. "For most of the occupation, Grand-père saw himself as the only one in a position to protect the people of Paris, particularly from the rumored Vampir. And Grand-mère absolutely refused to leave her home – at least as long as they could avoid drawing attention from the Nazis."

"It was brave of them to stay," Marc observed. Nath nodded fervently.

"It was," Emilie agreed, giving Nath a smile. "But they would not have been able to stay as long as they did if it hadn't been for people like your Opa, who helped to keep them safe and hidden."

Paris, March 1943

As the butterfly merged into David's armband, David cocked his head to one side in surprise. Quickly he ducked out of sight from the house, behind the barn. Beyond the structures, a tractor motored slowly down the field, the engine noise covering any sounds that might give away David's position. A thrum ran through his head. "Do you have another mission for me, sir?"

"Yes," replied le Maquillon, speaking quickly, an edge of fear in his voice. David's brows furrowed in concern, and he glanced up toward the sky, trying to master the jolt of anxiety he felt. "And it is urgent that you get here right away!"

"Of course, Maquillon," Davidstern agreed, as the suit appeared around him in a cloud of purple smoke. He rose slightly off the ground and rotated in midair, scanning what he could see of the horizon. "Where am I going? What's so important?"

"Paris," le Maquillon explained, sucking in a breath. "They're in Paris."

Davidstern nodded curtly. Launching up into the sky and turning slightly south, he held his hands in front of himself to cut through the wind and shot up as high as he could, disappearing into the light cloud cover before shooting toward the city. The wind whipped around him, threatening to dry out his eyes despite the magical sheen that coated him. "What's the situation, sir?" he asked, racing above a passing train in a blur of light. "I should be in Paris in a matter of minutes."

"I – merde!" Le Maquillon's voice cut out abruptly.

"Sir?" Davidstern's eyes widened nervously.

"I know; I'm doing the best I can!" Le Maquillon let out a frustrated growl. "No – if we do that, then they'll know for sure. As it is… Yes, I know that. But as it is, I think they're still guessing."

"Sorry; who's guessing?" Davidstern demanded, adjusting his course to avoid the main road and darting between two clouds. "What's going on there?"

"It's your friend – der Deutsche Ritter," le Maquillon spat. "He is in Paris, with that hulking 'Übermensch'."

"He's been there before."

"Yes, he has," agreed le Maquillon testily. "But this time, he is searching for me. And he is searching far too close to where I live for comfort."

"I see the Eiffel Tower now," Davidstern reported. "Where am I going now?"

Le Maquillon groaned. "We live a little west of the city – Neuilly-sur-Seine area."

Veering directly over the city, almost directly above the Tower, Davidstern nodded. "I'm almost there, Monsieur." His eyes narrowed, and he drew the short sword from its sheath. "How close is he to your house?"

"Too close." Le Maquillon's breathing hitched. "The Übermensch has walked past our walkway four times in the last hour. Once this is done…" He sighed. "We may have to relocate, at least until the War turns. Although la Resistaonne does not wish to flee."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Davidstern, dropping low to skirt over the Boulevard Periphérique. "Fight them off and drive them out of Neuilly-sur-Seine?"

"No." A hint of amusement entered le Maquillon's voice. "Do that, and they will know they were close. La Resistaonne would enjoy that… but I would prefer to avoid detection. Misdirection is the name of the game, I believe. See if you can lure them away from here somehow."

Brows furrowed in thought, Davidstern hummed to himself as he cut across the northern edge of the park just south of Neuilly-sur-Seine. Below him, a quartet of anti-aircraft guns, their barrels covered in mesh camouflage, caught the glint of sunlight through the trees. Davidstern grinned. "I think I can handle that, monsieur."

"Good luck… and thank you, my friend."

With a shout, Davidstern spun around in midair, drifting backwards over the anti-aircraft battery, and concentrated on the energy coursing through his veins. Short sword gripped in two hands, he pointed it downward, and a massive sickle emerged out of it, stretching all the way to the ground. "Nazi pigs!" he bellowed, swinging his sickle and slicing a wide swath through the park, cutting the ends off of two of the anti-aircraft guns' barrels and slashing the camouflage netting to ribbons. A flash of golden light pulsed out from Davidstern in all directions. At once, one of the surviving guns whirred to life, with two men jumping to man its controls. Quickly, Davidstern swung his hand around and formed a bubble of energy around him, just before the gun fired. Rounds tinged off of the bubble in all directions, and Davidstern smirked. "It will take much more than that to get rid of me!" he called down to them in German.

Several bushes on the far side of the park moved and fell aside, revealing one Panzer, then another, the symbol of the Iron Cross emblazoned across their front panels. The tank's main gun rose, aiming directly at Davidstern, and belched fire. Dropping below the shell, Davidstern landed with a crash and swung his sword around in a sweeping slash, sending a flash of golden light ripping through the tank's front armor and knocking it off one of its tracks. A mechanical groan filled the air, and the tank settled on a slant, its main gun rotating and trying to correct its aim. The twin machine guns mounted just below the main gun fired, straight into the bubble of gold still shielding Davidstern. Gritting his teeth, he stood his ground, pushing back against the force of the bullets pushing him backward across the dirt. Davidstern glanced in either direction, watching as two more Panzers revealed themselves to either side of him, the camouflage pulling away from them to pool on the ground. Suddenly, to his right, a massive mountain of a man with a mane of blond hair flowing behind him in the wind, bare-chested to display the swastika branded across his pectorals, barreled into the small clearing from the north.

"Today you die, Jew mongrel!" Übermensch snarled, racing between two Panzers, heedless of the machine guns still firing to either side of him, and slamming into the light-bubble surrounding Davidstern. The machine guns fell silent. Übermensch's eyes flashed with exhilaration, and he drove both fists into the light bubble, pushing it a couple centimeters into the ground.

"'Jew mongrel'," Davidstern repeated, arching an eyebrow at him. "That's a new one; I'm sure I've never heard that before." He snorted. "You must have been your mother's favorite – the only one of her children who could almost read!"

Übermensch growled, punching the bubble harder. The energy rippled under the constant barrage. His eyes narrowed with rage, and he bared his teeth. "You dare speak that way of a pure Aryan woman!?"

Davidstern's grip tightened on his short sword and he tensed, just as a royal blue feather merged into the dreidel in his pocket. Concentrating on confidence and protection, he smirked. "I doubt it's anything new – her clients must have told her as much, when they saw you with all your bastard siblings!"

"You–!" Übermensch's shout was immediately cut off by a rumbling boom as the senti-Golem took shape between him and Davidstern, emerging from its feet up to the head. Stomping its foot, the senti-Golem threw one fist forward the moment it had formed, straight into Übermensch's chest. Übermensch sprang backward a moment too late, and the senti-Golem's fist connected square on the brand, throwing him backward through the air. Landing in a three-point stance, Übermensch eyed the senti-Golem up and down and dove to one side as it charged after him, rising to his feet on the senti-Golem's right.

"If you didn't want people punching you in the chest, maybe you shouldn't have put such an appealing target there!" taunted Davidstern, rising into the air as a pair of shells slammed into the senti-Golem's torso. Dust sprayed off of it into the air, and the senti-Golem turned to one side, clasping its fists together and bringing them down on Übermensch's head. Something flew overhead, blocking the sun momentarily, and Davidstern glanced up. "But speaking of putting a target on your chest…"

"You go too far!" der Deutsche Ritter declared, dropping to the ground and slashing at Davidstern just as his shield-bubble finally collapsed.

Davidstern's eyes narrowed, and he raised his sword, parrying the blow and lunging in closer, thrusting at the seam in der Ritter's armor at his armpit. Der Ritter easily batted the short sword away with his own sword's guard, punching Davidstern in his exposed side. A flash of golden light emitted from the spot, propelling Davidstern into the air. Shooting higher into the air, Davidstern sent a beam of golden light at der Ritter.

"Wehren!" der Ritter shouted, and a buckler shield appeared on his forearm, blocking the light and reflecting it down into the ground at his feet. "Helfen!" Rocketing up into the air, he pounced on Davidstern, holding his sword in both hands and bringing it down on Davidstern's head as he reached his level.

Davidstern drifted back out of his reach, hitting him with a pulse of golden light as he did so. Der Ritter lifted his buckler shield to catch the beam but was flung backward, grunting in shock. Below them, the senti-Golem continued to lumber after Übermensch, trying and failing to hit him as he continually dove out of the senti-Golem's way. Another pair of rounds struck the senti-Golem's shoulders, sending it stumbling forward. With a thought, Davidstern directed the senti-Golem away from Übermensch, toward the two still-functional anti-aircraft batteries. "Take them out!" he ordered the beast. "They have to be gone before the raid arrives!" Under his breath, he muttered, "There isn't an air raid coming in today, is there?"

"Do you expect me to know that?" le Maquillon responded in disbelief. "I do not actually know anything!"

"Noted." Davidstern dove to one side, narrowly avoiding a round from one of the tanks which missed him and struck der Ritter in front of him, knocking the knight backward and nearly to the ground. Der Ritter caught himself a meter from impact, shook his head, tightened his grip on the sword, and barreled back toward Davidstern, sword raised. "I take it the threat has passed?" Davidstern asked le Maquillon wryly.

"They are gone."

"Good."

"I hope you and your senti-guard are having fun there," la Resistaonne interjected. "Unfortunately, my darling husband refused to let me join in!"

"As I told you before, dear, we cannot show ourselves – not now. Maybe later, once the War turns against the Nazis."

"I'll hold you to that."

Another round shot past Davidstern's head from one of the tanks, just as der Ritter lunged at him. "You realize I can hear your arguing, right?" Davidstern growled.

"Sorry."

Davidstern gritted his teeth in concentration, shooting quickly to one side moments before der Ritter reached him, sending a pulse of energy lancing out at one of the tanks just as it fired. The golden light cut straight through the projectile, deflecting the two halves harmlessly away from him, and bit deep into the tank's barrel, neatly bisecting it down to the barrel's halfway point. Drawing in a deep breath, Davidstern sent another massive surge of energy at the tank next to that one, hitting it in the side and melting clean through the armor. The tank exploded in a ball of flame, and Davidstern held up his free hand, shielding his eyes from the light. At the same moment, a sword blade slashed across his back, knocking him to one side and almost propelling him into a tree. "I think it's safe to say that I've got their attention," he grunted, spinning around and throwing up a light-shield just as der Ritter stabbed at his head. The force pushed him back, almost directly into the three surviving tanks. "I'll hold their attention as long as I can, but I don't know how long that will be."

"Don't do anything foolish!" warned le Maquillon. "Our home isn't worth your life!"

"Well, if I wasn't in the business of doing foolish things, I wouldn't be fighting a flying medieval knight and 'Hitler's perfect man' now, would I?"

La Resistaonne hummed in amusement. "All the same, do be careful."

Narrowing his eyes, Davidstern dove to one side, just as the tank he had damaged fired its main gun. The barrel exploded apart, sending shrapnel in all directions, as der Ritter lunged at the spot where Davidstern had been moments before. With a BOOM, der Ritter took the full blast of the exploding barrel, straight into his chest. Davidstern's eyes widened in surprise as der Rittter was pushed backward, flailing his arms, and tumbled around upside down, soaring up above the treetops before freefalling. Freezing in place, Davidstern swallowed. How easy it would be to let him die. He was a Nazi – a symbol of Hitler! And yet…

The image of the armored figure pointing away from him as he fled to safety returned unbidden to his mind, of that same figure kneeling over him and healing his injured back on the beaches outside of Honfleur. His stomach clenched. With a sigh, Davidstern pointed his short sword down and formed a sling out of light, catching der Ritter in midair. Der Ritter groaned, pushing himself up onto one hand once the sling lowered him to the ground. As the remains of the senti-Golem picked up the final anti-aircraft gun and hurled it on top of the burning tanks, Davidstern nodded down at der Ritter. "Now, we're even," he muttered, drifting away, back toward the east.