Chapter 3:

Eve shot up from her bed. Her body shuddering, her lungs aching. It felt as if she had been screaming, her throat raw. She wanted to cry out but knew Dr. Hale would not come to soothe her. Holding onto herself, Eve wiped away the mist in her eyes before they could become tears.

"The same. Every night."

Paralyzed, naked, cold with fear. The nightmare was always the same. She was in the dark place, trapped, that vile man smiling down at her. Glancing at her wrists, she almost felt the chains burning into her flesh. They had been removed long ago, but she could still remember the weight of them. The scars they caused were fading, reduced to pink lines across her wrists. She had matching scars on her ankles too, but those she could more easily ignore. Scared to dwell on the past, Eve forced herself to get up from bed.

A glance at the clock by her bedside told her that it was sometime in the early morning. She had always been an early riser. But with the late-night she had, it felt unbearable to be awake already. Still, there was no chance of her going back to sleep now. Heading to the bathroom, she stripped to take a shower. As much as she complained about modern technology, indoor plumbing and heating were a miracle she was continuously thankful for.

Dressing in a yellow sundress, knee socks, and her favorite ankle boots, Eve began to hunt for some kind of sweater. The dress was lovely, but it had sleeves that left her shoulders bare. With her upbringing, she had to constantly remind herself that fashion, like the times, had changed. It took Dr. Hale some years before she could get Eve to wear anything that showed her ankles. She had managed to adapt but she did not like wearing anything that showed her scars if it could be avoided. It never went well to try and explain them in a way that did not make for a very uncomfortable conversation.

After a few minutes of searching, Eve groaned. Glancing around the mess she had made in tearing open the cases that held her clothes, she felt lost.

"Bartholomew, have you seen my box of sweaters?"

From somewhere among the cases, boxes, and potted plants, a croak could be heard. Following the sound, Eve rescued her familiar from a pile of books that had fallen on top of him. Lifting him up, she examined him for damage.

"You alright?"

"Croak."

Eve frowned, setting her familiar down.

"No need to use that tone with me."

The toad looked at her with his big, bug eyes. He had a permanent frown on his large lips like he was always disappointed in Eve and the world. When he had been a tadpole he had been so cute. Now he was the size of a bloated cat and as curmudgeon as a harpy. Giving her a hard look, Bartholomew waddled away from her to the shadows of the room.

"Should have gotten a raven." She huffed to herself.

Standing up, Eve observed the mess she had made in the bedroom. Her things did not take up so much space, but the belongings of Dr. Hale would not fit in here with her. While not lavish or large, the suite was quite lovely. The bathroom was adjacent to the bedroom, which had a queen-sized bed and a dresser provided. Parted by an archway was a sitting room where the entrance was along with a small kitchenette. Even with this much space, it would be difficult to store Dr. Hale's items properly, especially the plants. Perhaps if she converted the sitting room into a study? She would not have much call for a sitting room anyway, seeing as she was not planning on having guests.

Flipping her long hair back, Eve went over to the front door of her suite.

"Right. Time for some adjustments."

Spreading her arms, Eve called forth her magic.

"What do you think Bartholomew? Blue or green?"

The toad did not voice his opinion, but Eve already set herself to work. The white-washed walls offended her, and she wanted something a little bit cozier. Snapping her fingers, the white changed to blue, then green. Frowning, Eve considered the two.

"On second thought, I think a nice heather is in order."

Snapping her fingers a third time, the sitting room transformed to a soft purple. Eve liked it. Turning to the shelves, she hummed in thought. There were only two, and they looked as if they would not be able to take a layer of dust without collapsing from the weight of it.

"Now, these will never do."

Concentrating, she envisioned the shelves she wanted. Something study, something natural. Having the image in mind, she pointed at the shelves.

"Quercus crescere." She commanded, and the shelves began to shake and tremble. Within a moment, roots and twigs sprouted from the wood of the shelves. Growing and expanding, the oak branches layered themselves in a pattern over the wall with enough space for all of Eve's books and Dr. Hale's papers. She liked it, though wondered if she might have to water it now.

"Better. So much better."

Eve was about to set herself on changing one of the lounge chairs she had been given into a desk – a simple, yet, oddly complicated spell – when a knock came to her door.

"Miss Winters? It's Agent Myers."

"Oh!" Eve panicked, "Um, just a minute!"

Eve ran back to the bedroom. She tore through the boxes of clothes until she succeeded in finding the one dedicated to her collection of sweaters. Settling on a grey cardigan to match her knee socks, she slipped it on, making sure the sleeves covered her wrists.

"Enter." She said a little breathless when she ran back to the sitting room. From the other side of the door, she could hear Agent Myers laugh.

"I can't. I don't know your passcode."

"Oh!" Eve grew red, coming over to press the keys. It slid open after her third attempt, and she gave Agent Myers a bashful smile. "My apologies, I forget how pervasive technology has become. I remember the days in which a simple latch was enough."

"You sound like my grandmother." He teased. Seeing Eve frown he rushed to continue. "Not that that's a bad thing! She's nice."

Eve nodded in understanding. "It is alright. I am quite old-fashioned."

"Really?" Agent Myers doubted, and Eve shrugged.

"I was raised in another time you could say."

Too much! Screamed that little voice inside Eve's head. Quickly she tried to cover her careless words.

"Which is to say that Dr. Hale liked to keep things simple. The most complicated piece of machinery we had at our disposal was an electric can opener. It was a sheltered life."

"That's…that's interesting." Nodded Agent Myers, though he was looking at her strangely now. He seemed to be aware of it too, for he quickly cleared his throat and gestured behind her.

"Wow. Lots of cool stuff there."

Eve merely shrugged. Yes, she supposed to a normal human the items might seem fascinating. The crates she had in that room were mostly filled with her potion supplies. Vials of blood, dried herb bundles, a few jars with newt eyes. Actually, those she should really put in the icebox. Pointing to one item in particular, Agent Myers' face lit up.

"Is that a real cauldron? Like in Harry Potter?"

"Harry who?" Eve frowned in confusion. Agent Myers laughed again, and Eve did not like that it was at her expense.

"Wow. You really do sound like my grandmother."

Eve tried not to look upset at his joke. She knew she was not knowledgeable about modern things, but there was no call to jape about it. Eve's hands went to her hair, suddenly aware of how the wet and tangled locks appeared. She probably looked like a drowned old woman. Its color had always made her feel insecure, but now more than ever she wished she had taken Dr. Hale's advice and dyed it a more natural color. She began to braid it, not knowing what else to do with it.

"Is there a reason you came here?" She asked tersely.

"Oh!" Agent Myers started, "Director is gathering the team for you to meet them. In the library."

"R-right now?" Eve balked.

"Well, we have time to grab a latte or something if want. I know I'm useless without caffeine in the morning." Without waiting for her answer, Agent Myers turned to lead her down the hall.

Eve, seeing no choice, followed after him and struggled to close the door, cursing under her breath when it did not obey. Striking the panel she hissed a hex, and the door jumped and slammed itself shut. Agent Myers glanced back at her worriedly, and Eve quickly tried to think of something to say.

"Latte? Is that the beverage with steamed milk?"

"Oh boy." Laughed Agent Myers again.


Nuada followed the line of the BPRD's top agents as they proceeded to the library. Krauss had spoken to them this morning saying Director Manning wished to speak with them all. Nuada had to wonder what the man meant to say. If it was a mission surely they would meet in one of the conference rooms. It was even more curious to him that he was invited along, for normally he was not told of the assignments until they were preparing to leave. He was informed only as much as he needed to be and was left out of any discussions or investigative matters. This was satisfactory to him. But when he felt the presence of his sister already awaiting them in the library, his curiosity grew.

"Nuala." The elven prince greeted. His sister smiled, coming over to embrace him.

"Good morrow. Are you well?" She asked when they parted. They had not spoken since that time in the gym, and Nuada could see his sister wished to make certain he was not angry at her. Not wanting to worry her, he kept his answer simple.

"Yes. Thank you for the books you had sent for. Are you here to advise or accompany Abraham?"

As he spoke, he looked towards the amphibious man. Abe was talking to the mechanical man though his eyes drifted over towards Nuala. Nuada was still uncertain about Abraham, though he knew he was an honorable being. In regards to his sister though, Nuada did not believe him to be worthy. But Nuala had obviously made her choice when it came to where her heart and loyalties lied.

"I am not certain." Confessed Nuala, "The mechanical man, Krauss, requested I come."

"I wonder what could be so important that the both of us are acquired to attend." Nuada speculated, nodding to Hellboy as the demon and his mate stepped closer.

"He's gonna say it." Said Hellboy.

"Red." Liz sighed, obviously not in the mood for whatever he was referring to.

"Bet you a beer, he's gonna say it."

At that moment Director Manning entered the library.

"I suppose you all are wondering why I gathered you together here today."

Hellboy raised his hands in triumph before giving Liz a smug look. "He said it."

"God damn it Red." Liz groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Is it a mission?" Abe stepped forward to ask. Nuada noticed this put him closer to Nuala, and the two smiled at one another. Nuada turned to give his full attention to Director Manning, not wishing to see the lovelorn gazes the two were exchanging.

"No. Not as such." He sighed before stating, "We have a guest staying here with us."

"A guest? Since when do we have guests?" Frowned Hellboy.

"Since Professor Broom goes around making promises to take in wayward witches." Spoke the Director bitterly.

"Professor Broom?"

"Father?"

"Witches?"

Asked Abe, Hellboy, and Liz all at once.

"Only one witch to be exact." Krauss interjected, "It seemed when Professor Broom spent some time in Salem, he met an old friend. A Dr. Jillian Hale by name, the top expert on witchcraft here in America."

Hellboy nodded in recognition.

"I heard father talk about her a few times. She helped us with the Great Torment of '67, when the soul of Warlock–"

"Warlock William Barker arose to lay vengeance. Yes, yes." Krauss interrupted, "They wrote letters to one another, sharing theories and experiences, conferring as colleagues. In one of these letters, Dr. Hale mentions that she had taken a talented witch under her wing so to speak. And it would seem Professor Broom had promised in the event should Dr. Hale pass away, he would care for the young witch in her stead here at the BPRD."

"And?" Abe asked after a moment. Krauss lowered his head respectfully.

"And Dr. Hale has passed. A month ago to be precise. And since Professor Broom is no longer with us, his promise falls to us."

"Really? Why?" Asked Liz, "Not that having a witch around wouldn't be interesting, but we're not a daycare."

"And yet I constantly get reports about your little demons ransacking the kitchen." Sneered Director Manning. The air around the woman suddenly became heated as her temper flared.

"Watch it." She growled, sparks flying from her hands.

"We have to fulfill Professor Broom's promise. Or more, his oath. He signed a contract to Dr. Hale." Kraus went over to one of the tables in the library. Picking up an old parchment he held it up for all to see. Nuada's eyes widened in astonishment when he recognized it.

"That is a Pact of Blood." Nuala gasped, surprised as he was, "If your Professor Broom signed this, it could only mean that he meant to fulfill his promise on pain of his soul."

"Yeah, that sounds like father." Laughed Hellboy, though he frowned as he glanced over the parchment.

Clearly, he had not been aware of any of this. Nuada knew only a little of the human who had raised the demon. From what he had learned the man seemed to be quite knowledgeable for a mortal, having founded this very organization. But more intriguing than the actions of the Professor was the news of this witch. Nuada had known a few in his time, old crones that worked for gold in exchange for their art. Some were human, but a few had the blood of the Strange Folk within them, the very source of their powers. Many were nothing more than soothsayers who could read bones, but if this witch was worth singing a Blood Pact over she might have something resembling power. Nuada was quickly becoming intrigued.

"So…we have a witch." Shrugged Liz, "And just who is this witch?"

"A Fraulein Genevieve Winters. Though I believe she prefers to be called Eve."

Hellboy snorted a laugh, "Cute."

"And what else? Does she have any particular skills?" Asked Abe, obviously delighted with the news, "Potions? Alchemy? Glamour? Or perhaps–"

The door to the library opened. A human, one Nuada recognized as Agent Myers, stepped in. Seeing everyone turn towards him, he hesitated.

"Are we early?"

"Not at all. Come in, please." Spoke Krauss, gesturing the man inside. The agent obeyed, and following him was another human. They came to the middle of the room, Agent Myers stepping aside to give everyone a perfect view of his companion.

She was an odd creature, obviously the witch they were eager to meet. Nuada could feel the pulse of magic within her, like a second heartbeat, but she was human enough to be sure. From his own expectations, Nuada thought she would be an older woman, but she appeared to be younger than Miss Sherman. She looked almost like a child with her wide cinnamon-colored eyes and freckle bridged nose. But her rounded hips and slender neck spoke of womanhood. She was dressed modestly, shyly tugging the sleeves of her cardigan. She would have looked like any other human to Nuada if it were not for her hair.

It was the color of starlight. Silver, as one might come by with great age, though clearly, she was not timeworn. It seemed to be her natural color, her eyebrows matching in hue. To add to its oddity it was incredibly long. She had it tied in a thick braid which trailed to the floor, the tip brushing over the carpet as she finally decided to step closer to the others. Her eyes darted back and forth over them, as curious about them as they were her.

Clearing his throat, the mechanical man was the first to speak.

"Fraulein Winters. It is a delight to meet you. I am Johann Krauss." He bowed to the woman politely. Anyone else would have been taken aback by the man's corporeal state, but the woman only smiled and curtseyed in return.

"The delight is mine." Her voice was docile and soft, and she was obviously charmed by the mechanical man.

"I have heard of the research Dr. Hale has done of the Salem Trials. Superb work. Dare I say, brilliant." Krauss praised, quickly adding, "And might I offer my condolences for her passing."

The witch nodded solemnly, her voice becoming tight with a sadness that she tried to hide, "Thank you. It would have pleased her to hear your approval. It was her life's work."

Krauss, stepping up beside the young woman, took it upon himself to introduce her.

"The Director you know, and this, if you could not tell for yourself, is Hellboy." He pointed to the demon. The witch took in his appearance as easily as she had Krauss'.

"Hey." The demon grunted.

"Hello." She smiled.

"And this is Abraham Sapien, our clairsentience and resident amphibious man." Abe waved to the witch, she smiled in return.

"Elizabeth Sherman, a pyrokinetic."

The dark-haired woman nodded at the witch, "Nice to meet you."

Here, the woman's polite bearing left. A tremor came over her, and Nuada found it strange she would waver when it came to the one who was the most normal-looking of the group. It was obvious to him the witch was afraid of the demon's mate, though why he could not begin to fathom. The others seemed to notice the shift in the witch's demeanor as well, though she tried to cover it up by smiling at Miss Sherman. Krauss moved on to gesture to Nuada and his sister.

"And our royals of the Clan Bethmoora, Prince–"

Again the woman surprised Nuada, for as soon as her eyes met his she gasped. She nearly threw herself to the ground to kneel before him and his sister, head bowed reverently.

"Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala. Forgive this humble servant for not recognizing you."

"You know us?" Nuala stepped forward, just as surprised as her brother over the witch's behavior.

"I know of you and your kind. I have grown up with the knowledge of the Sons of the Earth since I was a babe, your highness."

"Miss Winters here is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter," Krauss explained when he saw the confusion on everyone's faces. The others nodded in recognition, understanding its significance. Rare was the ability to see the Strange Folk when they went in their guise without some aid. A human, let alone a witch, gifted with this ability naturally was a surprise. That she recognized Nuada and his sister was even more unexpected, and Nuada did not know if he appreciated her reverence or was disgusted by it.

"I am impressed. But please, do not kneel on ceremony for us." Nuala spoke gently, just as uncomfortable as Nuada with this attention. The witch rose and smiled as if Nuala had blessed her and all her descendants.

"You are most kind, highness." She thanked them in a different language. Nuada's eyes widened in shock.

"You know our tongue?" He asked her, the cadence and rhythm of his native language strange to him considering who he spoke it to.

"A little." The witch changed back to English clumsily, "I know only a few phrases of Daoine."

She was practically beaming that she had managed to impress them, and Nuada schooled his expression. This witch was indeed strange, and he did not like her ability to surprise him. In all his years he had not heard the language of the elves perverted by a human. He did not even think it possible for one to annunciate it, and though her accent was appalling, she could speak it well enough.

"It pleases us to know there are still some humans who know of our kind." Nuala smiled as she turned to Nuada, "Is that not so, brother?"

He did not answer her, looking over the witch severely. The young woman withered under the look, her eyes breaking away from his timidly. The silence that followed Nuala's question made the others uncomfortable, none more so than the witch. It was Hellboy that managed to break it.

"So, what's with the hair?"

"Red!" Liz shouted at him. Happy for the change in conversation, the witch smiled at the pyrokinetic.

"It is alright, Miss Sherman. I am used to such queries. This," She said with a gesture towards her braid, "occurred when I was performing a spell. A…mishap, one could say."

"A mishap? Does that happen often?" Abe tilted his head curiously. The witch looked panicked as she tried to explain.

"Somewhat. I mean no! I mean…often, yes."

"Well, that wasn't vague." Muttered Hellboy. Krauss, once again, interpreted for them all.

"Miss Winters is still an apprentice. She was learning her craft under Dr. Hale, though sadly, her education has been left unfinished what with her passing."

"I was under the impression that witches learned their craft from their families," Nuala spoke up. Krauss nodded.

"Normally they do, but Miss Winter's family has sadly–"

"Has sadly decided not to carry the tradition on." Interjected the witch, "Father says magic no longer has a place in this world. But I still wished to learn, so Dr. Hale took me in to teach me. And now I'm…I'm here."

Nuada frowned at the witch. Her explanation left a lot to be desired. If she simply wished to learn the art of her ancestors there were plenty of other witches to find. Even if her family no longer practiced, they would still have ties to a coven. None of the members of the BPRD had much experience with performing magic, as much as they made dealing with it their business. That she came here to learn was odd. The woman was suspicious, to say the least. It seemed to Nuada that she had a lot to hide and no skill at lying with which to hide it. The others too were looking at her curiously, but once more it was Hellboy who broke the silence.

"So you're still in training?"

"Yes?" The young woman shied under his harsh tone.

"Great." The demon huffed, "Well that makes you useless."

The woman balked at this, looking offended. She swallowed her pride quick enough as Director Manning finally spoke up.

"Right, well. With introductions out of the way, I think we should get to real business."

"A mission?" Turned Hellboy, sounding hopeful. The Director nodded.

"Yes. It seems there is a werewolf den that has been quite active of late in Montana."

"Montana. Never been."

"I hear they have nice parks," Liz smirked. The Director ignored the pair of them.

"Yes, but unfortunately, it seems they've been eating their neighbor's cattle and driving out the local wildlife. People have so far blamed it all on the reintroduction of wolves outside of the national parks, but we don't know how much longer they'll buy that."

"Why don't you tell them it was swamp gas?" Suggested the demon, and this earned him an unamused look from the human.

"Have they hurt anybody?" Asked Abe.

"Besides some cattle, not yet. But it seems only a matter of time given their behavior. What we want to do is set up a –" The Director stopped himself, looking past the others. Following his gaze, Nuada noticed that the witch was still with them. She had moved over to the shelves, scanning the spines of the books lined before her, oblivious to the attention she was now drawing.

"Miss Winters." The Director barked, causing her to jump.

"Hm?"

"Your presence no longer required here."

The woman frowned, unsure what he referred to. She blushed when she finally comprehended.

"Oh! Of course. My apologies." She laughed nervously, stepping away from the shelves, "I suppose I shall retire to my room then."

Nuada and the others watched her leave, Agent Myers following quickly after her. Once out of earshot, the demon looked to his mate.

"Seriously, what is with her? She talks like a pilgrim."

"I find her intriguing. It will be pleasant to have a witch here I think." Spoke Nuala to Abe, and the amphibious man nodded.

As for Hellboy and Liz, they did not seem so ready to agree. And, for once, Nuada sided with them. The witch was strange and clearly had some secrets. Her coming to the BPRD was in itself strange. If she was a practiced witch there might be someplace for her here, but an apprentice was just as Hellboy said; useless. Then why would this Professor Broom insist on making a Blood Pact to ensure her care? It simply did not add up. And though Nuada did not care for the workings of the organization that ensured his defeat, he found himself becoming undesirably interested in the witch. He simply did not trust her.

The Director called for everyone's attention back onto himself before continuing, and Nuada decided to put the young woman from his mind.