A/N: Thanks to Niffer01, szym, native-kitten (my Kryptonite!) and guardian music angel for their reviews!

Okie-day, a short chapter here for you, but I'm getting on an international flight later today and work be brain-operational for a couple of days, so I figured you'd want what I had written so far.

PLEASE vote on my Collins Live or Die poll! I want to know what you guys are looking for! (No guarantees)

Happy Birthday to Chance Crawford! (I wanted this to be a birthday chapter like with Toby's, but there is too much planned to write in such a short time. I'd feel like an idiot if I skipped forward a couple months just to look cool.)

Review and Enjoy!

"I still can't believe you did this to me!" Alex snapped as she pulled of her helmet, her long, wavy hair spilling out.

"Come on, Alex. We've been over this. You'll be fine, just take it easy," Pogue replied calmly. Alex had been freaking out about being the liaison since they had announced it the day before.

"Easy for you to say." She'd gotten a call from her mother late last night, the first time in months. She had listened to her mother alternate between gloating that her daughter had been given such an important position and telling Alex she wasn't trained enough for the job. The one-sided conversation had strained Alex's already worried nerves, and she hadn't known whether to kiss Pogue for finally hanging up on her mother or kill him for getting her into this mess in the first place.

She still wasn't sure why they'd done it. Something about finding her place and being part of it all; but she just felt like she was being set up. Part of her longed for it, to be useful not only to her friends, but also to her people, even if she didn't consider herself a witch. Perhaps that was what Pogue had sensed.

Still, she didn't know if she was ready to deal with the Council in such a direct manner. But here they were, standing in front of Vargsen's huge house, getting ready to do just that.

She and Pogue had left earlier than the others, and made good time on his Ducati, but Talia, Reid and Will were already screeching up behind them. A few seconds later, Caleb's convertible came into view, closely followed by Tyler's hummer.

"There's no way you're driving my car, Reid," Talia said firmly as she slammed shut her door.

"Aww, come on, Babe. Stick can't be that difficult," he replied, holding the seat forward for Will.

Talia just snorted. "It ain't happening, Garwin. Quit while you're behind."

Will just shook his head at the two, walking over to the bike. "Next time I'm riding with Simms. They bicker like an old married couple."

Talia stuck her tongue out at her brother as Reid went over to greet the others. Rena and Garret had left earlier that morning, tearful goodbyes softened by the prospect of the Sons visiting their new allies at spring break, just in time for Anna's due date.

They weren't at school today because classes had been called off for a week because Aaron's body had finally been found. Apparently, he'd crashed his car on a side road, killed instantly, and some wild animals had gotten to him before his fellow humans. They all felt a little guilty about it, but it was better than having the cops snooping 'round, and at least it gave his parents a little closure.

"We all ready?" Caleb said as the group gathered on the front steps. Sarah was holding a video camera, so they could look over things later for something they'd missed. The Joint Council had decided to burn down Vargsen's house after removing everything important. They didn't want to risk any evidence being found.

They nodded, suddenly solemn. Alex took a deep breath, steeling herself for the challenge ahead. "Okay. Let's get this over with."

Maya watched as the strange group arrived and gathered. They were obviously close, but she still wasn't sure how close. She'd been ordered by her superiors, not only to aid them; but also to observe them, determine the strength of their alliance and look for anything they could use.

He was there. The wolf male. The one that thought dirty thoughts and smiled at her like he knew some big secret. She didn't like him. There was no denying he was hot, but men like him, so self-centred, so arrogant, they rubbed her the wrong way.

She had been surprised when the older Shifter had deferred to him in the meeting. Apparently, like the Witches, age didn't always mean superior position. She was also interested to see how the Void interacted with other witches. She'd never met one before, never even though about them, but the idea of being without power and still as self-possessed as this girl intrigued her.

She greeted them at the door, getting right down to business. "Most of the house has been cleared, deemed harmless, just normal household items. Most of his work and research seemed to be focused around his library, and any items of interest we found around the rest of the house have been moved there." The three Agents nodded, the others looked slightly bemused. "If you'll follow me."

He came closer to her as they walked along, his arms brushing hers. "So, what do we call you? I'm mean, 'Agent Ndefo' is a little formal, don't you think? We already agreed on Will," she didn't correct him, "so what do I call you?"

"Maya," she replied tonelessly, without hesitation.

He seemed surprised, whether at her easy compliance or her disinterested tone, she didn't know. "Maya," he purred, her name sounding like sin on his lips. "I like it."

She pushed down the spark of pleasure that shot through her, focusing as always on her work. "Just in here."

"Holy Toledo," The female wolf, Talia murmured as the double doors were opened, revealing a huge, two-storey library with wall-to-wall shelves and plush chairs. "Look, it's even got one of those ladders on wheels!"

"Jeez, you and books," the other female shifter commented, rolling her eyes. Maya noted how she remained close to one of the Sons, Simms.

Garwin wrapped a fingerless-glove tipped arm around Talia's neck and whispered in her ear. "You should see the one we have back home, Babe. It puts this one to shame." Sarka turned her head and shot him a look so lust-filled, it left Maya in no doubt as to the nature of their relationship.

Filing that to the back of her mind, she continued. "Everything in this room will be saved. As things here have to do both with the Shifter's investigation and your dealings with Collins, I have been authorised to release all of it into your custody as a show of good faith. We can rent a storage facility for you, or have it delivered to an address or addresses of your choosing. There are many things of interest here for your investigation, unfortunately the Joint Council had ordered the burning to begin tonight, so you won't have time to look at it here."

They were spreading around the room, reading the names of books and peering at artefacts. She walked over to the desk, where a single file sat on the polished mahogany surface. Picking it up, she walked over to the Void. "This is a full inventory of everything in this room. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

She nodded, taking the papers from her and scanning quickly through them.

"You said, 'There are many things of interest here for your investigation'," Will began, from where he stood next to his sister in front of one of the few shelves not filled with books. "What about what isn't?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The boxes here, they're numbered, the highest being fifteen," Talia replied, "There are only fourteen boxes. Number thirteen isn't here."

"That can't be. Leo did the inventory. He never misses anything," she said, referring to her fellow Agent, Leo Yukemura. She grabbed the inventory from Quintero's hands. Fourteen boxes, solid wood, black charcoaled carvings. Contents: artefact deemed magic neutral. In other words, fourteen harmless, pretty boxes. Fourteen. She counted the boxes in front of her. Fourteen.

She frowned. "I don't see any numbers." The others looked just as confused.

"Well, you wouldn't, would you?" the red panda stated. "It's written in old Shifter glyphs. A very dead language. The only reason we know it is because we're trained Council Agents."

"That doesn't matter," Will continued. "It still means there's a box missing."

"All of them were brought here, I guarantee it's not in this house."

Still, they searched high and low, and she even called Leo, who swore there were only fourteen in the whole building. Which meant that someone, somewhere, had the thirteenth box. But who?

The bar was dark, smoke filled, and full of menace. Some un-identifiable music was drifting through the room, and the patrons were the sort that you didn't look at the wrong way twice, mostly because your eyes were now on the floor. He wasn't sure if any were actually human. He wasn't sure he cared.

Chase sat quietly in the darkest corner of the bar, knowing the person he was meeting would find him regardless. He had been waiting a while already, but wasn't too agitated. The person he was meeting was worth waiting for. Soon his patience was rewarded.

A tall, hansom man entered, and the noise level dipped momentarily before staring up again as he stepped forwards. Unlike the goons Vargsen hired, this man had quick, sharp eyes. Intelligence. He had no interest in Vargsen's work, only in one thing, which suited Chase fine.

"Glad you could make it," Chase said, gesturing to the seat across from himself. "Please, sit." Good dog.

The man watched him, as slight look of amusement crossing his face before he sat down. Irritation shot through Chase that this man might be laughing at him, but he pushed it down, knowing that he needed this man to make his plan work.

"I understand you've heard my proposition."

The man nodded. "You know my terms."

"The Sarka bloodline wiped off the face of the earth?" The man nodded again. "I think we can manage that," Chase replied generously.

"Then we have an agreement."

"Excellent. Let's get started, then. The sooner the better, we have a lot of work to do. You understand what I want of you?" The man nodded again. "Good. Let's go," he said, nearly forgetting the large bag at his feet. He hefted the large bundle in his arms, feeling the corners digging into his ribs.

He couldn't believe that one box could hold so much potential. Vargsen had simply called the box 'thirteen', but maybe Chase would call it 'Pandora' instead. It seemed more fitting.