Screams erupted in the square as machine gunfire tore into the crowd. Charles twisted and dove to the side, finding cover behind a shop wall. Someone collapsed across his legs and the manager nearly kicked them in the face before he realized it was Hope. A quick scan of the square revealed Toki and Skwisgaar cowering behind a shop on the opposite side of the square, Nathan huddled behind the base of a statue of a Mayan goddess, Murderface and his companion were trying to squeeze behind an information kiosk and Pickles . . . where was Pickles?

Movement caught Charles' eye. The line of corpses that had been the Bograts hid one extremely stressed ginger drum player. Then again, perhaps 'corpses' wasn't the right word, because the big bass player, Fion, was moving.

His head snapped up sharply, revealing rows of needle-like teeth and eyes that had gone flat black, like a shark. Another bullet clipped his arm. Instead of the familiar spray of red blood, a sticky white substance splattered across the cobbles. In the next moment, all of the Aughiskys were on the move. Aiden caught Pickles around the waist and hurried him to shelter, dragging the larger man along as though he weighed nothing.

The remaining Aughiskys quite simply disappeared. Shimmering blurs of movement took off over the water, leaving rooster tails in their wake.

Charles pressed a button on his watch. Nothing happened outwardly, but every Gear in a twenty-mile radius was now on high combat alert and ready to repel assailants.

"Where's Mercy and Faith?" Hope asked over the cacophony.

Charles did another scan of the square. He caught sight of Faith behind a hurricane wall a few meters inland of Skwisgaar and Toki. He had to assume Mercy was with her, because he couldn't see the third sister at all. Faith was scanning the area with the same calculating eye as Charles. Their eyes met across the war torn square. Time seemed to slow as Faith saw Charles' eyes widen in horror. The eldest triplet looked behind her. Moments ago, Mercy had been behind her, talking about finding a way to get to Toki and Skwisgaar.

Now Faith looked up into the balaclava of an armed commando. An armed commando who was aiming a rifle at her head. If time had slowed before, it seemed to stop now. Faith was suddenly aware of every speck of gravel digging into her hands, every whisper of cloth against her skin, every thundering beat of her own heart. The man was just out of range for a lunge or a kick. She wouldn't be able to reach him before he had time to pull the trigger.

Faith Noh was about to be killed and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

"Vive los Revengencers," he announced and pulled the trigger.

From Charles' perspective, the scene was no less horrifying. The rifle kicked, there was a loud retort and something covered Faith. It shimmered blue, lanced with blue-white light where the bullet hit it, and gave off little sparks that . . . that were shaped like hearts.

"Good man, Conway," Charles breathed in relief.

"Thank you, sir," came Matthias' voice. "Let's get you out of here, shall we?"

Hope tugged on Charles' arm. The manager took another moment to check the scene. Murderface and his ladyfriend were still pinned down by fire, but something that moved in an impossibly fast shimmer took out the commando attacking Faith, and Mercy had reached Toki and Skwisgaar. She came in through the back of the shop and she had someone's flak jacket and rifle. Nathan had been hiding behind the base of a statue of a Mayan goddess. Commandoes were closing in on him, but the statue of the goddess was no longer a statue. And she looked pissed.

"Very well done, Conway," Charles said, looking back at his assistant.

Matthias Conway was standing just behind Hope. The immortal's wings were uncased but he was still dressed in one of his dark suits, like a very formal angel.

"It's all right, Hope," Charles said. "Conway is . . . here to help."

Nathan backed up against the statue base. He was scared, but over the top of it was anger. He was getting really fucking sick of this shit. He just sang in a fucking band; why the hell were people always trying to kill him? The Rolling Stones never had to put up with this shit!

The barrel of a gun appeared just around the corner of the statue base. Without thinking, Nathan grabbed the rifle with one hand, jerked forward, and swung the maquahuitl. Unlike Charles' epee, the native sword was only too happy to kill on command.

"Drop it!" a second soldier commanded, stepping around the body of the first. This one was smart enough to stay out of range. "Drop it, Explosion!"

Nathan never got the opportunity to obey, because the man's rifle fell apart. There wasn't anything so messy as an explosion, it was if all the pieces just decided to go their separate ways. There was a little splash of water from the parts as they hit the ground. The commando scrabbled for his sidearm, but the grip came out of the hostler without the barrel. The three other soldiers were having similar troubles.

"You fucking morons just don't get it, do you?" Nathan snarled. "We aren't just some regular jack offs. We're gods!"

JB leapt down from the plinth just as he made this declaration. Nathan whirled towards her, maquahuitl raised and blood from the unfortunate soldier dribbling down his face. For what seemed like a long moment, the two natives stared at each other. JB had meant to say something like 'Now that the playing field is leveled, make yourself useful.'

But she could never quite manage 'imperious' around Nathan Explosion.

"Show me your teeth, Crocodile God," Ixchel murmured.

Nathan gave her a grim smile and attacked the commando sneaking up behind him. Nathan Explosion had very sharp teeth, the young goddess reflected. She always thought it was special effects for the videos but he had teeth like a wolf.

As Nathan tore into his attackers, JB reached into the body of a soldier attempting to take her hostage, took control of his water and used it to break the man's neck.

"I wonder why I called him 'Crocodile God'," she mused.

"!" Murderface whimpered, trying to huddle behind an information kiosk that really wasn't big enough to hide his bulk. Only the fact that it had been set with concrete and stones to make it match the plaza made it any sort of shelter at all.

"Th' stone's startin' t' fall off," Dixie observed.

The redhead was practically curled up in his lap; not because she was scared, but because she was taking shelter behind a larger object – William Murderface.

"Oh fuck!"

"We need t' move; it's a miracle this li'l hut has held up this long."

"Oh god!"

"I can get outta here," Dixie announced, sitting up. "But I'm pretty sure you're fucked, sugar."

"No! You can't leave me here! You're shupposhed to be my fucking girlfriend! You can't leave me!" Murderface cried, gripping her by the arms.

Dixie stared into those terrified green eyes and sighed. A plea like that was too pathetic to ignore. And she really did need his body intact for Benjamin.

"Well, all right. You can come with, but you gotta stay behind me. An' I mean completely behind, not one finger sticking out! A'ight?"

William stared at her in bewilderment. How the hell did she expect a six foot tall, pushing three hundred pound man to hide behind a five foot tall, even though she was fat, she wasn't that fat woman?

"Why aren't you afraid?" the bass player asked.

"Honey, I'm fuckin' terrified," Dixie admitted. "I'm just puttin' it away for later. You gotta take me with you when you go back t' Mordhaus."

"What? Okay, all right! Just get me out of here!"

"Stay right behind me," Dixie reminded him, then stepped out into the gunfire.

Murderface plunged after her.

"William, what are you doing?" Charles screamed over the din.

"Not fucking dying!" William screamed back.

Against all odds, he wasn't. Dixie seemed to know exactly when and where each bullet would hit and made sure she wasn't there. There was no invisible shield like Faith had. The redhead lost a lock of hair when the wind blew her curly mane back. She paused in the open while a torrent of shells heated the air mere inches from her chest, then grabbed Murderface's shoulder and leapt forward when the gunner adjusted his aim.

"Oh, she's Walking Between," Cupid declared. "I've never seen it done with bullets before."

"What is she?" Charles demanded.

"Human," Matthias said. "Very human. Just a little more in tune with the supernatural than most."

"Get out there and stop the shooting!" Charles ordered.

"Give it another few seconds and Kelpie Team Six should have it under control," the immortal said. "The Dethcopter will be here in 1.3 minutes." The immortal spread his wings. "I'm going to check on Toki and Skwisgaar. Try not to die in the next few seconds, boss."

"I'll make every attempt," Charles stated firmly.

As Murderface and Dixie dove behind the sturdier shelter of the shop, Matthias took off into the skies.

"Yer hurt, yer hurt, Oh my Gahd, yer hurt!" Pickles wailed.

Aiden let go of the drummer and leaned against a wall, clutching his injured shoulder. Everything from his clavicle to his armpit was a mass of oozing, sticky whiteness. Somehow the wrong colored blood made it worse.

"How are you hurt? I mean, fairy – how could it hurt you?"

"There's iron in steel, yeh know," Aiden pointed out. "Acccchh, that was a bad hit. I need t' eat."

"Ye been stuffin' yer face all day!" Pickles pointed out.

"Wi' human food," the young kelpie pointed out. "Now I need t' stuff me face wi' human."

"Oh, okay! Human. . . human. . . .dood, there's never a cop around when you need one!"

Aiden almost laughed. It was hard to believe this morning Pickles had been terrified of being too close to him and was now trying to find someone for him to eat. The ginger had fit right in with the kelpies once he was off of the menu.

"I've got the drummer! Put your hands in the air, Pickles!"

Dethklok's drummer looked around to see two rifle-bearing commandoes entering the narrow street.

"Aiden, would they work?"

"They'll do nicely, Stinky Da'."

Mercy felt better with a flak jacket. She found a commando dead, his neck broken with such force it nearly decapitated him. She did wonder what could have done that, but right now all she could do was hope it had been friendly and take anything useful.

She helped herself to the dead man's flak jacket, rifle, sidearm, and ammunition. She tried his helmet as well, but it fell down over her eyes. She wasn't real sure why, but she had to find the boys. Was it because Toki had asked her to play his mother? Would she feel such a deep urge to protect them otherwise? Well, probably; she was a protective person.

A commando peered around the corner and Mercy put a bullet in his neck without much thought. For 'commandoes' these guys were sloppy. They certainly weren't prepared for targets that fought back. That was odd enough; there were several squads of combat Gears on the island. The force they were facing was too large for a precision strike, but too small for a full battle.

Mercy dug a mirror decorated with sea shells out of the wreckage of a shop and used it to check for hiding spaces without exposing herself. This was like Kandahar all over again.

No soldiers, also no Toki and Skwisgaar. Mercy moved onto the next shop.

As she was clearing the second shop, the sound of machine gun fire stopped. Mercy was tempted to call it a 'sudden silence', but silence wasn't filled with things like distant screaming and wood splintering.

Toki and Skwisgaar were huddled in the third shop.

"Toki! Skwisgaar! This way!"

The two guitarists located her and dashed around to hide behind the schoolteacher.

"Who else are we missing?" She asked.

"Murdersface . . . uh, Nat'ans and Pickle," Skwisgaar answered.

"Murderface and Nathan are pinned down. I haven't seen Pickles."

Something rushed down beside her. Mercy was already turning with rifle ready when she felt her arms lock up.

"Relax, it's just me," Matthias said.

The assistant folded his wings back.

"Charles, Murderface, Nathan, and Hope are safe for the moment," he announced. "The kelpies have taken out the gun boat. Combat Gears are cleaning up the perimeter and the Dethcopter should be here in ninety seconds. Head back through the shops and meet up with Charles. Mercy, I'm guessing you know how to move safely, since you're the gal with all the guns."

"Uh . . ." Mercy said.

She wanted to point out that Matthias could fly. And he had wings. But Toki and Skwisgaar didn't seem shocked. They didn't even seem startled. Should she point it out? 'Excuse me, I can't help but notice . . .' 'Matthias Conway . . . . that doesn't sound Heavenly.'

"I'm going to find Faith and Pickles. I you meet one of the kelpies, stick with them, they'll protect you."

Matthias spread his wings and took off into the skies. Mercy watched him go, then turned her gaze back to the guitarists.

"What's a kelpie?"

"It ams de same things as a nǿkken," Toki answered.

"That doesn't really help," Mercy sighed. "Let's get back to the others."

Faith had met one of the kelpies.

Fion Aughisky walked the eldest triplet across the plaza like a bouncer escorting waitresses to their cars at night. He kept himself between Faith and the sea, but she glanced around him. Out in the water, she caught a glimpse of two enormous, serpentine necks coiling over the ruins of a boat. One raised up a huge dragon-like head, replete with horns and a long black mane. A flailing human figure hung out of its mouth. The second creature lunged up from the water and grabbed the upper half of the man. The two serpents pulled in opposite directions. Fion stepped up to block Faith's view of the gristly scene.

Before she could even process what she'd seen, Charles was pulling her into his arms and squeezing. Hope put her arms around her sister from behind and all three of them clutched tight.

"That guy shot you," Hope whimpered.

Faith stared straight ahead numbly. She remembered seeing the rifle kick and she flinched and then . . . . no pain and then the big Aughisky was there faster than humans could move . . . sea serpents . . .winged assistants.

"What the hell is going on?" Faith breathed.

If someone answered her, she didn't hear it. The band started arguing, Gears swarmed the area and the steady 'whump, whump, whump' of a helicopter drowned all conversation.

She was guided gently onto the aircraft and placed in a comfy chair. Charles bustled around getting the band calmed down. The next time something like real thought crossed her mind was with the rattle of teacups being set down.

They were in an enormous, richly decorated room. Dethklok sat on huge black leather couch at the opposite side of the room. Aiden Aughisky sat next to Pickles, and Dixie Dunlap was next to Murderface, unsuccessfully trying to light a cigarette. The rest of the Bograts sprawled about the room in other couches and chairs or even on the floor in Oengus's case.

The triplets had been set aside at a small bistro-style table. A Gear had just set a cup of tea down in front of Faith. There was an ornate pot of tea, a plate of cakes and sugar and cream for the tea.

"Thank you," she said automatically.

"Are you feeling better now?" Mercy asked her sister.

The middle triplet had tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't sob, but her combat experience made her revert to the wet, soppy mess she usually was in times of stress.

"I – yes. We're on the Dethcopter?"

"Charles is taking us back to Mordhaus," Hope reported. "He says it's safer."

"He's probably right," Faith conceded. She took a long sip of tea. "This is very good tea."

Across the room, Charles took in his larger-than-normal flock of headbangers.

"I . . . uh . . . don't suppose there's anywhere we can . . . uh . . . drop you fellows?" he was asking.

"No!" Toki and Pickles yelled in the same voice.

"You can'ts whats dump dem off, dey saveds us lives!" Toki yelped.

"Yeah, we couldn't even survive with bodyguards, we needed kelpies t' protect us!" Pickles cried.

"And . . . ah, we're very grateful," Charles said. "But have you thought that maybe they don't want to come back to-"

"We're fine wi' that," Padraig protested.

"What my brother means is tha' we could come t' a mutually beneficial arrangement," Nessie said with a smile. "Dethklok needs protection, we want t' open for Dethklok . . ."

"Yes, why exactly would you want to do that?"

"Th' money does help," Nessie stressed. "Th' energy we get from th' crowds is nice, but we need cash t' tour."

"This way, no one will question us hanging around an' we can keep you all safe," Phooka said, laying his hand on Toki's shoulder.

The rhythm guitarist blushed, but laid his hand over the kelpie's.

Nessie looked over to the triplets, pointed at the three women and opened her mouth.

"No, I am not interested in you joining our group," Charles snapped. "Our relationship is about love, not sex, and you can't just jump in."

He became aware of everyone staring at him and cleared his throat nervously.

"Actually, luv," Nessie said. "I was after askin' for tea an' cakes."

"Ah . . . oh."

"Phooka's th' one wi' an unhealthy relationship wi' food," the female kelpie said, jerking her thumb at her brother.

Phooka was leaning against the back of the couch, threading his fingers through Toki's hair.

"Can we have tea an' cakes, too?" Aiden asked.

"Dood, you been stuffin' yer face all day!" Pickles protested. "Where does it go?"

"Hey, you know what teenage boys are like," Nathan said. "And I want some cakes if we're havin' it. Them. Whatever. Get us some!"

The Gears scrambled to gather enough tea and cakes for both bands.

"Sh-shit," Dixie suddenly mumbled. "I can't put it off no more. Where's a bathroom?"

The redhead was shaking and pale. Her brow was covered in cold sweat. Evidently the post-trauma cigarette hadn't been enough to calm her. A Gear gestured to a nearby door. Dixie leapt up off of the couch and rushed through it. Scarcely had the door slammed behind her than the sound of a woman having a meltdown echoed through the main room.

Slowly, every eye turned towards Murderface. The bass player looked from person to person until he confirmed that yes, everyone was staring at him.

"What?" he demanded.

"Aren't you, uh, gonna comfort your girlfriend?" Nathan posed.

" . . . how would I do that?"

"Gives hers a hug!" Toki blurted.

"Yeah, tell she's safe now an' shit," Pickles added. "Gahd, you suck at this!"

"Uh . . . I should do that now?" Murderface asked. "She'sh in the shitter."

"Oh my God, haven't you ever done this before?" Nathan asked. "Knock on the door and ask if she's all right. She'll say she'll be out in a minute. Then you wait until she comes back. Then hug her and kiss her on top of the head. They like that."

"It has to be on tahp of the head? Dood, you sound like a dating guide," Pickles snorted.

"Don't chicks like being kissed on top of the head?" Nathan asked Charles.

"I . . . ah . . . don't believe I've ever kissed one there," Charles admitted.

The conversation was derailed by Oengus yawning. When a kelpie yawns and doesn't care who sees his teeth, it can be quite a sight. Charles noticed most of the kelpies seemed drowsy. The big guy even had his eyes closed.

"After we get a good feed on, we tend t' get sleepy," Nessie said, sipping her tea.

"Gears, show our . . . ah . . . guests to somewhere they can rest," Charles ordered.

Klokateers rounded up the drowsy fairies to let them rest. Murderface got up off the couch and rapped on the bathroom door. He returned to his seat giving Nathan an impressed look.

The current crisis dealt with, Charles sat at the bistro table and dabbed at Mercy's tears with a napkin.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

Mercy nodded.

"There's . . . . there's a lot of crazy things going on around you, Charles," Faith said.

"That's true," the manager sighed. "I . . .uh . . . suppose I should have told you earlier, but I didn't think you would believe me."

"We believe you," Hope said simply.

"Well, this may seem a bit of a turn-around, but you're in all the way now," Charles said. "Will . . . ah . . . will you ladies move in with me?"

The triplets stared at him dully. They were tired, haggard, and still shell-shocked. The world was not as they knew it to be and he was trying to be romantic. Faith gave a soft blurt of laughter with absolutely no humor in it.

"You . . . now . . . you want us to move into Mordhaus?" she asked.

"Well . . . keeping you at a distance was my way of trying to keep you safe. That was a temporary measure, obviously. Now that I have . . . something more permanent in place I want you with me. I . . . I love you."

" . . . what do you mean, 'more permanent'?" Hope asked.

"I was shot," Faith announced, clutching her tea cup. "But I wasn't. What –"

"Conway has awarded you his protection. He likes you," Charles stated.

"He has wings," Mercy observed. "He can fly. Is he an angel? Why would an angel protect Dethklok?"

"Ah . . . he's not an angel. And he gets irritated if you call him that. It's best not to assume every winged immortal you meet is one."

"Silly me," the middle triplet snorted.

"Why isn't her brain breaking?" Hope asked, pointing.

Dixie came out of the bathroom wiping her eyes. She sat next to Murderface again. With a questioning glance to Nathan, the bass player wrapped one arm around his 'girlfriend' and kissed her on top of the head. She looked surprised by this, but snuggled against William.

Nathan nodded in approval.

"She . . . ah . . . she . . . ah . . . this isn't her first rodeo," Charles said. "She's just dealing with getting shot at."

"I thought you didn't know her," Mercy said.

"Ah . . . I saw her Walk Between a hail of bullets. This isn't her first rodeo," Charles repeated. "So . . . ah . . . will you move in with me? We'll make it as official as possible. Start a family?"

"Yes!" Mercy said.

"'Official as possible?'" Faith echoed. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, ah. . . there's not a lot of countries that would recognize it, but well, technically Mordhaus is a sovereign nation."

The big shock of the supernatural must have been slowing down the triplets' normally quick wits. They gave Charles a blank look.

"So . . . . ah . . . it . . . it would only be a matter of paperwork to . . ah . . . make polygamy legal."

Now it sank in. One after another, the triplets' jaws dropped. It was like something out of a cartoon. Charles had to smother a snort in his fist.

"You actually want to marry us?" Hope squawked.

"Was that a proposal?" Faith wondered in the same breath.

"Ah . . ." Charles snuck a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, he was the center of attention. Dethklok stared at him as if he'd grown another head. In fact, they probably would have been less shocked by that.

"Um . . . there will be a formal proposal at a later date," he quavered. "When . . . when I have the rings. And we're alone."

Hope squealed and threw her arms around his neck. Charles hugged her back and kissed her, then went around the table and cuddled each of the triplets in turn. Mercy seemed loathe to let him go, but she finally did when the Dethcopter broke through the clouds.

"Oh!"

Charles turned to see the dragon's head of Mordhaus silhouetted against the sun.

"Ladies . . . . welcome to Mordhaus."