Well, well, well guys, I'm back again!

As always, big thanks to all who have taken the time to hit the reviews/follow/favourite buttons, you're all wonderful! FrenChi, you're right, it's always brilliant to get feedback from new reviewers (so please feel free folks if the urge takes you!)- Joannrbb, I'm so glad you've joined us from Heavenly Creatures and that you're enjoying the stories. However, FrenChi, I'm still always just grateful for my wee community of dedicated readers, you guys are keeping me going!

Dragonfly00, I think I'm going to be trying your patience over the next few chapters!

Lastly, this chapter will contain flashbacks (italics) including Athdara. This was a request made by one or two people near the end of HC so please don't panic.

Chapter Five

The office was dark; the rich burgundy walls offering little in the way of reflection for the small globes of illumination given off by the mock candle lamps that dotted the room. Personally, Kostas thought that his boss possessed an overly strong flair for the dramatic but there again, very few would ever have the gall to question the man who currently lurked in the shadows behind an expansive, elaborately-carved oak desk.

The large Aloadae was no weakling, having, himself, held prominent standing with the Dark before he had rallied to de Villier's banner but even he approached Christophe with trepidation. His new master was brilliant and powerful but tempestuous. At times, irrational, he had yet to truly mature into his gifts, too hell-bent on bloodlust and familial revenge. Kostas believed, however, that with the right council, the young man still had the potential for greatness someday. If he ever actually listened to anyone…he mused.

"Well, what have you Kostas?" The man asked imperiously.

"Sire," he began with a respectful nod, "your plan has taken root but it will take time; the Succubus is strong and her love of her…associates equally so. We have our best agents monitoring the situation."

"Good. The stronger her love for those around her, the greater our hold on the Unaligned one shall be." Christophe continued, easing his way around the desk to stand in front of the Giant with the deceptive grace of a dancer. He reached to stroke a finger over Kostas' cheek before smoothing his palm over the charcoal material of the fine Italian-cut suit that covered the expanse of the larger man's muscular chest. "And you dared doubt me, my friend."

Despite his admiration for the man's talents, there was always something about Christophe's mannerisms and serpent-like speech that made Kostas just a tad uneasy. He strengthened his stance, raising himself as tall as he dared in front of his employer and cleared his throat gruffly.

"Sire? I merely voiced my concerns, I meant no disrespect."

"My father died in poverty, damn you!" Christophe thundered. Kostas scrunched his brow;

"He lived in a three-bedroom villa in Rosedale."

"Exactly! We lost everything to that, that bitch! Our lands, our position…turned her back on her own kind for the sake of those mortal slaves." Then Christophe smiled wolfishly, "Be sure that you do not voice anything else that crosses your mind or you may be joining your traitorous brother in Lake Lerna. I don't pay you to think, Kostas, just for your…considerable bulk. Remember that." He said finally, casting an admiring leer.

"Sire." Kostas nodded with a final bow of respect before retreating to find company of a saner variety.

Lauren had spent the better part of an hour desperately trying to soothe two very frightened children. She had finally managed to ease them both into a fitful sleep, retreating stealthily from the spare bedroom when she bumped into Dyson, her already jangled nerves making her gasp in fright.

"Lauren, are you alright?" The Wolf asked, raising his hands to the woman's shoulders comfortingly. The doctor nodded shakily;

"Yeah, I'm okay." She replied but the Shifter took note of the shiver in the woman's body and the way she carefully avoided his gaze. He looked at her earnestly for a moment and she huffed. "Alright, so I've been better. Dyson, the children are terrified of their own mother. For the first time in years, I don't know what to do. I know that Bo would never hurt any of us but something's gotten hold of her. It's like she's not even Bo anymore and Charlotte & Ethan just can't understand."

She heaved back the sob that filled her throat, determined not to look weak in front of this man whose strength she had always tried to emulate in her own small way.

"Lauren, I think some of this is my fault too. When Bo came to me the other day I didn't take her concerns as seriously as I should have. I honestly didn't believe anyone would actually have the balls to try and touch you guys. Bo's wrath is legendary." He finished with a wry grin.

Lauren chuckled despite herself.

"Yeah. So, what do we do now?" She asked.

"We do what we do best" he grinned and Lauren eyed him sardonically.

"You hit the streets, I'll hit the books." But neither of them bothered to move quite yet. "Dyson? What would you do if you became afraid of your own wife?"

The Wolf grimaced.

"I don't know Lauren. You just have to take this one step at a time and remember that it's not Bo. You said yourself, she would never hurt you. You have to trust that she can fight this. For you. For your children."

The pair headed off in their separate directions, both too clouded by their own thoughts to notice the Succubus listening intently from the next room.

The following morning found Lauren in the basement of the Dàl, nose-deep in a stack of Trick's ancient, leather-bound tomes. At least, she hoped they were all leather. One or two of them did look just a tad suspect but there again, they were caked in that much dust, who could tell?

Saoirse creaked down the stairs as quietly as possible, bringing with her sustenance in the form of coffee and muffins. The twins were back at Fae School for the last week before the Winter holidays which left both women free for research while Dagny looked after things at the clinic. Kenzi and Mark remained upstairs, supposedly 'minding the bar' while Dyson and Bo had gone out in the field, ostensibly to track down some possible leads to Bo's predicament but Lauren was under no illusions, doubtless that her wife would also be seeking out satisfaction of the head-busting variety.

Saoirse slid a frothy cappuccino under her mother's nose and Lauren could not deny the break her bloodshot eyes demanded. She was traipsing through Trick's old ledger which, yes, was highly informative but also only served to make matters more and more complicated. There was certainly plenty of evidence of the de Villiers but theirs was a complex heritage typical of any Old Money Fae family. Christophe was the end product of so many different strands of genetics that the list of his potential powers was seemingly endless. She hadn't even started on the Santos strand of his family yet! What was confusing was that she just couldn't quite work out where Christophe fitted into the family tree even though Trick's record-keeping had been utterly meticulous. Something just wasn't quite right.

"Here, have something to eat," said Saoirse, pulling out a rickety old chair for herself as she eased down next to her mother, an expression of concern etched in her fine-boned features. "You've already been at this the last three hours and it's only just gone ten o'clock! My Mom, the workaholic, huh?"

Lauren grinned ruefully.

"Yup, that's me!" She paused, observing her daughter in the peripheral while she deftly unpeeled a muffin from its wrapper, the fresh scent of zesty lemon tickling her nostrils. For a few precious moments, the only sound in the cavernous space were the warm, blissful sighs of mutual pastry-induced pleasure and the crinkling of paper before Lauren felt the need to ask something that had been troubling her; "Honey, is everything okay? I know things have been crazy since you got here and we haven't had much of a chance to talk but I'd like to think that if there were ever anything bothering you that you could tell me."

Saoirse laughed unconvincingly and Lauren frowned. The way her daughter was so obviously and sincerely trying to emulate her other mother was actually slightly painful.

"Of course, I'm okay Mom. I'm doing good."

"Sweetie," Lauren replied, looking a little sadly at the younger woman and grasping her hand that rested on the ancient table gently within her own fingers said; "you're not your mother. You don't have to pretend that everything's alright if it's not. You are my daughter," she continued, turning to look Saoirse straight in the eye, "and I will never, ever think any the less of you if you need to talk about anything or if something's getting to you. You're stuck with me." She finished with a genuine smile this time.

"Is it that obvious?" Saoirse whined.

"Hmm, maybe not to anyone else," Lauren replied playfully, "but you forget how well I know that look. It's the same look your mother used to get when she was trying to hide something from me. Only my cunning techniques of interrogation didn't work quite so well on her." She chuckled but Saoirse remained silent, staring directly into the space ahead. "You miss her, don't you?" the blonde asked quietly, stroking away an errant strand of hair that had escaped from the young Griffin's messy bun.

"I worry about her." She allowed.

"Sweetie, I know it's not the done thing where you come from and I know you're supposed to be a big, tough warrior now but I am still your Mom. Tell me."

Saoirse's throat convulsed as she fought against her own inner turmoil. She had no idea how to talk like this. Athdara hadn't really given her much instruction on how to deal with emotions other than to just plain bury them. But on the other hand, Lauren was her Mom too and Saoirse still felt that human compassion burning through her veins in a way that Athdara was unable to handle. She just didn't know what to do with it but perhaps Lauren could.

"I do miss her but…I think I miss, what she was like before, y'know? Even though I never knew her then…it's as though there was still this tiny trace of who she was but I never got close to it. I guess I just wish I'd known her back then. I'm not explaining this very well, huh?"

Lauren edged her chair closer and slid an arm over Saoirse's shoulders;

"You're doing fine sweetie."

"Sometimes I wish we were a family." The young woman admitted quietly, her gaze sinking to the floor as her face flushed scarlet. "It's stupid, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting all this on you. You have enough to deal with right now." She said, making a move but Lauren grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to sit down again, bringing her daughter tighter into her own body.

"C'mere sweetie," she said, "it's not stupid. At all. Okay? I knew something was wrong last night but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. You were wishing your mother was there, weren't you?"

Saoirse nodded, shame-faced and Lauren sighed. In so many ways, the Griffin was every bit the force for protection a warrior should be; strong, skilled and brave but emotionally, she was still very much a child. Not for the first time, the blonde felt the waves of guilt smack her about the head.

"I wish she could have been there but as the person you knew. The one I've heard so much about but never really gotten to know."

Saoirse's face was almost pleading and Lauren wracked her brains for anything that would help. It took a few moments but eventually the answer came to her and she settled in for a long story;

"You know the Yule Ball is coming up, right?"

"Yeah?" said Saoirse, bemused at the sudden change of subject.

"Your Mother took me once. It was not long after we first got together. I was expected to be there as ward of the Ash but Athdara, ballsy as always, insisted I be there as her date instead. We entered the hall arm-in-arm and I felt ten feet tall. The old Ash was furious." She giggled, remembering her former master's expression of utter indignation.

"We'd agreed to meet at the steps outside the Compound's main banqueting hall. I remember the look on her face when she caught sight of me waiting for her and I…remember the catch of my breath when I saw her walking towards me. It's one of my most treasured memories," she paused, watching her daughter's look of surprise; "your Mother was quite the romantic back then. I remember being worried that I wouldn't have anything appropriate to wear- my wardrobe was fairly limited back then." She explained. "So, unbeknownst to me, 'Dara had a gown made in secret for me by Arachne herself." She laughed at the sudden gape to Saoirse's jaw. "Yes, that Arachne. Apparently those two went way back…"

Athdara glanced up the stone steps that led to the Ash's personal Grand Ballroom and caught sight of just the very top of a blonde head, the graceful sweep of spun silken strands encased in a silvery, frosted floral pin. He Griffin followed, her footfalls strangely nervous but determined. As she climbed higher and higher, more and more of the elegant silhouette that was Lauren revealed itself, encased in a sheathe of shimmering moonlight that sparkled with the glisten of a thousand stars, contrasting strikingly with a sky of fiery oranges and crimsons that were rapidly darkening to night. The Weaver had filled her task well, spinning a gown from the very essence of Artemis herself. She would owe the old woman well for this one. As she got nearer, she followed the trail of blonde twists down Lauren's shoulder to where they eventually came to a rest in the valley between her shapely, if modest breasts. She took a moment, she told herself, to appreciate the doctor's beauty but really this ages-old Griffin needed a second to slow her own heartbeat which was currently threatening to batter its way out of her chest.

Lauren must have sensed her arrival though for she spun on razor sharp heels and immediately grinned when her eyes lit upon her escort for the evening, her own breath becoming trapped in her throat at the vision of Athdara in her hunter's green, velvet tuxedo jacket and tightly black-clad thighs. The white shirt she wore shone as bright as her pearly teeth that gleamed through her smile and in her hand, she carried a carefully wrapped glittery black box.

Almost reluctantly, eager to preserve every inch of this perfect image in her mind, Athdara slowly stepped towards the blonde, reaching forward with the present she carried, not yet trusting her own voice.

Tenderly, Lauren took the box from the Griffin's fingers and deftly peeled away the black, sparkly wrapping revealing a corsage of triple Black Beauty roses. The blonde found it hard to formulate words as she traced trembling fingertips over the smooth, supple petals.

"I know it's a bit traditional but then so am I." Athdara finally found her voice.

"I love it." Lauren said simply but the shine on her eyes told Athdara everything she needed to know and the Griffin offered her arm and led them into the feast.

Inside the room, a variety of shapes and colours spun through the air in a festival of merry-making. Fire-eaters blew great puffs of flame up into the ceiling from a high holly-covered archway at the entrance. A combination of music and chatter floated through the vast space while Lauren became aware of several pairs of inquisituveness eyes turning their way.

Athdara was gracious as ever, nodding to each guest and wishing them a 'Happy Yule'. Lauren knew fine and well that had she arrived alone, dressed as she was, several Fae would likely see her as fair game but on the Griffin's arm, she knew safety and she began to secretly thrill at their envious stares, deliberately ignoring her irritating little voice, snidely reminding her that someday she would return to Earth with an almighty bump. Little did she know that not until many years when Bo Dennis would come crashing into her life that she would fine that same sense of protection again. With Nadia, there had simply been no need for it and at that time of her life she had more than believed she was capable of handling herself. Now here she was, living in a world of superior beings who saw her as nothing more than a form currency. But not this night. Not this night.

They danced through the night, Athdara never once removing her arm from its place at the doctor's waist but it didn't feel possessive, merely solid and safe. Various Fae looked on with a mixture of jealousy, indignation, curiosity and disgust as Athdara rebuffed everyone else's demands for attention. There would be time for politics later. The Yule Ball was about celebration and the Griffin only had eyes for Lauren.

Later in the evening, Athdara had remained behind Lauren with her arms wrapped around the blonde's midriff as the watched what amounted to a most spectacular firework display. Although admittedly, 'Dara preferred to watch the way the bright colours reflected in the doctor's eyes and was not afraid to tell her so. It was the close to a perfect evening but by the end of the night both women were beginning to grow restless until Athdara whispered lightly in the blonde's ear;

"Ready to go? I've been waiting all night to kiss you."

Lauren only needed to nod her answer when Athdara led them to a secluded balcony and lifted them both high into the heavens, the couple looking like a silver streak against the night sky. But she didn't take them home to Lauren's apartment, instead bringing them to a rest on a tiny, deserted island somewhere in the Caribbean Sea.

"In fact, that was the night that yo-…uh…never mind!" Lauren broke off, having been so caught up in her story her filter had slipped. Saoirse stared at her Mom, agape;

"Mom, are you serious? I honestly can't imagine you two doing anything like that!"

Lauren chuckled. It was comforting to know that no matter how big they got, some things with children never changed!

"Well, times were different. Your Mother and I were different people back then." She said, looking off into the distance, a slightly wan expression in her face. "Okay, c'mon. That's enough story time for now, we have research to do." She finished resolutely, immediately ploughing back into her books, leaving Saoirse with much to think about.

"She's scared of me Dyson. They all are." Bo said quietly, scuffing the toe of her leather boot on the alleyway floor. She and Dyson had spent the entire morning harassing the local bar and business owners for the latest word on the street and boy, had they hit some dives along the way. Trudging through dank lanes that stank of unwashed bodies and various unpleasant excretions as well as the sticky, stale odours of the various 'establishments' they had visited left Bo feeling a deep desire for a hot shower…and possibly a bonfire for her clothing.

Nor had their search even really provided much new information to add to what they already knew. It was generally known that de Villiers had put a hit out on the Succubus as well as her nearest and dearest but they were either too afraid or simply didn't care enough to say any more. It was infuriating but Dyson just about understood. Many of these sorry excuses for Fae knew more than they were letting on, he could sense it but he could also smell the fear emanating from their very pores. Christophe clearly had long arms. He grunted.

"She's not afraid of you Bo."

"I heard her Dyson! I heard the two of you getting real cosy last night."

The Wolf's ears pricked at the slight change in the Succubus' tone.

"Bo." He said warningly and she took a second to breathe, forcing the bubbling rage back down to her gut again. They stalled in the alleyway while the Succubus composed herself once more. "Better?"

"Yeah" she nodded.

He observed her carefully, feeling for any outward sign of her changes in behaviour but could find nothing. To all intents and purposes, she was Bo. Yet she was not.

"Bo, listen to me," he began, taking her shoulder much as he had done with Lauren the previous night and then again with Kenzi after they had finally made it home to the Dàl- Honestly! What was it with the women in his life! "Lauren is going to stick by you, no matter what. Yes, she's scared of what's happening to you but only because she loves you. None of us are ever going to leave you behind Bo. Just hold on to that."

Despite her predicament, Bo did actually feel a bit better.

Little did they know that this well-meaning piece of advice was the worst thing the shifter could have said.

"He's a Cogitatio!" burst Lauren excitedly, slamming Trick's ledger and another large book of uncertain extraction down on the Dàl's bar top, making Kenzi jump from where she perched precariously on a tall stool that was already nearly twice her height. "With a side order of Hydra."

"He's a what now?" Called Bo as she strode purposefully into the bar.

"Bo-Bo!" squealed Kenzi, the diminutive Russian bouncing over to her best friend and peering into her face. The Succubus laughed, in spite of her now being into her middling years, the feisty forty-something human was still the big kid Bo had always known. "Are you still our Bo? No weird wickey-whammy today?"

"No, Kenz. Sorry I guess you're stuck with me!" she said, flinging an arm about the other woman's neck and hugging her tightly, opting not to mention her little flare up in the alley. "Now what has my brilliant wife discovered?" she asked, sashaying up to the bar to place a big smacker on the doctor's lips which Lauren eagerly returned, perhaps a touch too enthusiastically.

"Uh, guys!" coughed Kenzi. "Kids present!" she said, pointing at Saoirse who merely grinned at their antics.

The two women broke apart, Lauren's cheeks flushing while Bo merely ruffled her best friend's hair.

"Did I ever get around to telling you how glad I am to have you back?"

"Eh, once or twice!" she shrugged.

"Ahem!" interjected Lauren, "Can I tell you what I've found?"

"Sorry Doc!" giggled Kenzi. "Please continue, oh stick-in-the-mud!"

Lauren rolled her eyes. At one time in their lives she may have taken offence at the younger woman's remarks but now they're bantering was strictly playful, something she had begrudgingly learned to love about the other woman. She warmed a little inside as she felt Bo's hand slide along her spine, smoothing lightly over her pink button-down shirt, comforted by the contact after what had amounted to a very uncertain few days, better still now that she felt she was working her way towards some answers, or at least a place to start hypothesising from.

"Christophe is Cogitatio. A reflector of people's thoughts and emotions. He can somehow reflect a person's emotions back into themselves, amplifying them somehow and causing them to essentially explode at their own inner turmoil." It suddenly struck her by the expressions on her friends faces that perhaps her over-enthusiasm was a touch misplaced but she couldn't help it. She had shifted into full-on geek mode.

"So, he's a silent assassin. A coward." Grunted Bo, too scared to come out of the shadows and face me himself. Lauren gazed up at her wife from her seat at the bar, her elbows resting on the books in front of her.

"There's more. I thought it was a bit strange when I couldn't find a direct patrilineage for him. That's because there's not. De Villiers was his mother's name. His father was Enrico Santos, he married into the more powerful de Villiers family and claimed his wife's name. Christophe is a half-nephew of King Hydra."

Dyson looked on significantly while Bo and Kenzi remained puzzled.

"Lenaeran Hydra, multi-serpent-headed beast set to guard one of the entrances to the Underworld at Lake Lerna. He was said to have been destroyed by Heracles cutting off each of the monster's heads. Clearly something survived."

Phew, lot of content there folks, hope you enjoyed! Story's starting to hot up now.

P&L