Disclaimer: Believe me, you're one beyond lucky that I only own my characters and the plot.

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter, hot off the press! In this one, Connor and Raven finally meet, and things take an unexpected turn. I actually think I'm going to have fun writing this one. Neways, not much else to say so shout-outs:

Ok then……….enjoy.

Eye of the Raven

Chapter Two

Cat And Mouse

Connor awoke even before the sun had fully set, his desire to find the women who had been in his room and stolen his dagger overweighing his hatred for the sun. He dressed quickly in a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater before loading himself up with weapons. He browsed his selections before choosing two daggers and a stake, just for safe measure.

He locked the museum and stepped, blinking, into the street. Although the sun was setting, the brightness still hurt his darkness-accustomed eyes and it took a few moments before the pain was bearable. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and gave it another sniff before sorting out the scents on the street.

Tracking her would be difficult, but he had tracked under harder conditions then this back in Quar-toth. He smirked lightly as he caught the scent and began following it.

Raven

As usual, I awoke in an alley, stiff and sore from the hard ground. I stretched and winced at hearing my own bones crack despite being grateful that I could move properly again. I stood up, still slightly sore and took a look at my leg. The bandages contained a little blood, but all in all I seemed to be fairly sturdy and for once, happily feed.

But food wasn't the cause for my excitement as I looked around, noting my surroundings, it was the presence in the air, a presence that I - in my brief encounters - had come to associate with Connor. It was hard to describe, but I could sense him before I saw or even smelt him. It was his power that made my stomach clench in warning or excitement, I couldn't tell which.

I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind as I had so often done to any spirit or even to any human that could lend me their eyes. I flicked through a few different minds before I caught an image of him, near to here. My eyes opened and I jumped, landing on a rooftop and looking around. I saw him with my mind before my eyes. He was smelling me out, tracking me and was close to finding me.

I had to laugh at the dog-like manner in which he hunted, but it's humor didn't make it any less admiral. It would be immensely difficult to sniff out one person in an entire city, especially one this size. A left turn…….a right turn……..another right, my eyes followed him as he followed the twists and turns I myself had the previous night and finally……. I saw him in the alley below me, inhaling my scent.

But it wasn't my scent that I cared about at the moment - the air was filled with his. It was a soft mixture of vampire, sandalwood and male, slightly tinged with a faintly demonic aura.

Yes……..he was dangerous. My stomach clenched again in confirmation.

I slowly and begrudgingly lifted my body into a standing position, my stiff bones whining in protest. Some of them cracked just to prove their point. He walked towards the brick wall, obviously looking for some kind of concealment I may have used.

I smirked. He was right where I wanted him. Without hesitating I jumped from the building, landing in a three point behind him and ignoring the slight pain in my right leg. Faster then what even I had expected he whirled around, his fist connecting with my face and sending me into the wall where I braced myself, taken aback by his speed.

I stared at his face for a moment, eyes searching eyes for any sign of emotion. It hadn't hit me before just how beautiful he actually was, in that feminine kind of way that could attract both men and women alike. He was truly a work of art and I was more then satisfied with my choice for a killer.

I made the second move, breaking our eye contact with a shard spin kick to the face. It was a shame that I would have to risk marring him, but if it landed me Death, then it was a small price to pay. However, before I could even move again, he was back on his feet.

We spent a few moments trading blows before he kicked me in the stomach, the force slamming me back into the wall. I groaned as my body hit the hard cement. His eyes were locked on mine, bright blue and screaming of pain and power. The deadliest combination I knew. Still, he was silent, and I couldn't help the feelings of joy that being slammed into the wall had brought. He was going to kill me, he was actually going to kill me.

Only he wasn't moving.

"What?" I asked. "You're not going to kill me?"

"No." He answered casually and before I knew it, my feet were off the ground, his forearm pressing into my larynx. "Why were you in my room, witch? And what did you take from me?" He demanded. I said nothing, but was mildly surprised that he knew of my witch-hood so fast. But then-again, I was a blood-born which I reasoned, still gasping for air and secretly admiring the way he pressed against my throat just the right way. Not enough strength to knock me out, but enough to prove his point.

I loved it.

"Answer me." He replied calmly. "Or I'll crush you're windpipe." Hmmmmmm, not exactly like I had planned to go, but who was I to argue? I still said nothing, praying that he would go through with his words. But I never got to find out because that's when I first felt it. A slight throb in my temple as my body started to shake slightly. He had been touching me to long……. Oh no……….. oh Gods no, not now! The pain began to increase and I mentally berated myself for letting him hold me here.

I should know by now that prolonged physical contact could bring on a vision regarding the person in question. A small whimper of pain escaped me, followed by a stream of curses that I knew were in my native tongue - the language of the demon clan my mother had been part off.

"You won't curse me witch!" He snarled, throwing me to the ground and breaking the contact but it was too late. The language was still coming from my mouth, I couldn't seem to stop it. The only word that was the same between the demon tongue and English……..

"No……" I whispered, silent willing for it to go away. It wasn't going to listen. Instantly I started to flashes of images…….a pretty blond haired girl, older then Connor but I could tell that he had feelings for her……. a dock, a man……Angel locked in a box……. the women trapped in a higher plane…….. gone…… but surrounded in people, people she didn't remember……….

I felt the hard ground behind me and my eyes flew open, and I could barely make out the outline of Connor before a single word escaped me and then everything went black.

"Cordeila………..."

Normal

Her eyes flew open, cold gray eyes with a black ring around the outside that screamed power. His weapon was ready to deflect the curse she no doubt was about to throw at him but what happened wasn't what he had planned on. Her lips moved to form a single name before she went limp.

"Cordeila." He repeated the name to himself, hope rising in him, but quickly smothered. She's a witch! She's trying to use one of her tricks, her lies! But a different side in him that he didn't know existed was trying to reason.

How could she know about Cordeila? Witches could only see what they knew, and what they could extract from the minds of others….. he had never thought about Cordeila when she was around. How do you know? She tampered with your room, who knows how long she's been watching you? Now kill her! He didn't move.

Magick…….. it's coming off her in waves….. The thought made him growl as his eyes rested on a silver necklace around her neck, bearing the sign of the pentacle. Witch……….. I hate witches. They lie, they hurt, they're evil! Now kill her! Yet, even as he gave himself the orders, he still didn't move. He stood there, torn between his overwhelming desire to rid the world of yet another witch, and his equal desire to find out why the hell she was in his room and what she might know about Cordy.

His stomach and heart gave a lurch at her name. She had been gone for months now, no-one knew where she was….. but this girl, this witch might know something. He had been in the company of mystics long enough to recognize when someone was getting a vision - what if it had been about Cordy?

He stood there a little longer, curiosity fighting hatred. He looked down at her limp form and tried to find even a gram of pity for her. Her long black hair was fanned out behind her, her skin white against the ebony tresses. Curiosity and pity won.

If it's one of her tricks, you can just kill her. He tried to find comfort in the thought, tried to convince himself that this world, this humanity wasn't making him soft. He didn't fully manage it. He reached down and picked her up, carrying her bridal style and surprised by how light she was, despite his unnatural strength.

He made his way back to the apartment, taking the back streets and alleys to avoid any unneeded questions. He opened the apartment door, holding her up with one arm and walked inside. He reached his bedroom and dropped her limp form rather unceremoniously onto the bed. She gave a slight bounce and stayed, the skin of her face smooth and relaxed as if she was merely sleeping and not totally unconscious.

He chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm and he could here her heartbeat, ensuring that she was alive and not one of the many undead. Connor said nothing but walked over to the bed and checked her for weapons. He found his own dagger among a throwing knife and a small switchblade that she had cleverly hidden down her top.

Satisfied with getting his own snake-hilt dagger back and rendering her helpless except for her magick he merely sat on the dresser, watching her with intensity, ready to attack at the first sign of escape of trickery. One hour passed……..then two…….finally, upon approaching the third hour she began to stir and shift, letting out a little moan as she found his pillow.

However, she seemed to have noticed that she wasn't where she originally thought because she bolted up her eyes wide with surprise as she looked around and finally her eyes landed on him. She didn't move, seeming to sense that it would be an exceptionally unwise idea. Connor smirked, thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was cornered.

He casually stood up, throwing up his dagger and catching it before looking at her.

"I'm guessing you've been here before." He said, a entirely ill welcoming kind of leer on his face as he held up the formally stolen dagger. "I have a few questions……and if you plan on living, I suggest you answer them."

She said nothing, just stared straight ahead, into his eyes. There was no emotion in them. Words were on the tip of her tongue, but she knew better then to let 'What if I don't want to live?' past her lips and into his ears.

She looked around once more and discovered one thing she hadn't planned on.

She was disarmed, trapped, and completely at the mercy of him - and his questions.

Oh shit……………

A/N:

Again, not the longest chapter, but I have a feeling that next one is going to be fairly large. And again, I rewrote a portion of this chapter to get it the way I wanted it too. I'm still not overly thrilled about the ending but it was better then my original idea……… ok, enough about that disaster. Anyways, as always, if you have decided to up and read this fic, please do leave a review and make me very happy