Time is a tricky thing. The more of it you want, the less you have. When you want it to disappear, it does everything possible to drag on and on, tiniest of sand grains slowly trickling piece by piece down the hourglass.

Best Worth could figure, an hour or two had gone by since they'd had their little meeting, reminding them that the Unseelie were assholes. He was basing that time guess mostly on the fact that he wasn't bleeding any more and the blood that was on him had dried. Also, his shoulder had started to throb, growing heat radiating out from the unwanted hole in his body. It was early, but he was putting his money on a nice little infection setting up shop. Just what he'd always wanted. He was lying still on his back. If he tried to move, his shoulder would bleed again. As much as he didn't like the idea of trapping an infection within, making sure he didn't lose too much blood was a more pressing concern for the time being.

Though he knew it was futile, he tried to analyze his surroundings for the umpteenth time, trying to spot something that could help them. Hell, wasn't like he had anything else to do. Wall directly behind him, Worth's weary eyes tracked along the windowed wall at his left side. Fake potted plant, windows, curtains. Next wall, the one directly across from him, filing cabinets and the desk with the leftovers of that asshole's pumpkin, mixing with the dust on long abandoned paperwork. Pumpkin innards strewn across an unused keyboard, drying in a sticky glob. Head turned to the right, towards Conrad. More filing cabinets, another desk, and the only door to the room.

He could hear voices outside of the door and then the twist of a knob. Visitors. Maybe for the succubus, but maybe for Conrad and the doctor. Sighing, he allowed his head to droop back down to the linoleum floor. Worth didn't even bother trying to wind his arms back behind himself. He didn't see the point and couldn't bring himself to care.

"W-why is th-there a p-p-pumpkin on th-the d-desk?"

Wait. He might care about that visitor.

"Nigel?" Conrad spoke, chains rattling as he tried to stand. "Oh, God, please tell me you're part of a rescue."

"Y-yes?"

Worth watched a long skirt dragging across the ground, moving to the front of the cage, catching glimpses of small hooves. "As much as we can be, anyway," Caiohme breathed. "We need to be fast."

"Ain't gotta problem with that," he shook his head as she approached him, "get th' other two first. Iron don't bother me."

Keeping himself by the cracked door, Nigel glanced back and forth between the hallway and the room. "H-Hey and R-R-Ram are w-waiting outside. H-Hanna is w-waiting on th-the bridge. Longfellow. J-just go straight d-down Cambrid-dge and y-you'll walk right over it."

Freed, the succubus began to shift, forming a much more familiar shape; long limbs, angular face, short, pale hair. Worth caught Caiohme's glance from the succubus to the doctor before she began to unlock the vampire's cuffs. Worth would be next in line for the unshackling parade. Working his way to his knees and then his feet, he grunted, staying hunched over, feeling dried blood cracking across his arm. "Right. Fine. S'we all holdin' hands while we walk down th' street?"

Conrad was released, but stood stiffly in place while the succubus took heavy steps toward the open cage door. "Th...Thank you," was whispered in a raspy, rumbling voice.

"Don't thank us yet. Still gotta getcha outta here. 'n' us, I reckon." The cuffs fell from his arms and until that moment, he hadn't realized just how heavy they had been. He looked at Conrad, still standing dumbly and walked over. "Oi. Lemme see yer wrists."

Tongue slid across chapped lips. Conrad was still fixated on the stab wound. Points for a solid attention span, he supposed. "Princess? My eyes're up here."

"Sorry. Just...Sorry." Belatedly, he lifted his arms and the doctor cupped pale hands in his, turning Conrad's hands over. He tried to ignore the pulling in his shoulder as he looked at the angry skin, peeling and lightly blistered just from prolonged contact with the metal. A quick look up to the others, Nigel still sweating and watching the doorway, Caiohme helping to support the succubus who was shifting again, a man with brown hair and a wide smile this time. "Right. Not sure we got th' time but it don't matter. G'on. Get ter it."

"To...to what?" It was asked with all the curiosity of a man who already knew the answer.

"I gotta wiggle a finger 'round in there 'n' open it back up? Ain't got time fer candles 'n' a movie here, Connie." He released Conrad's hands and used his own good hand to unbutton his shirt before pushing it off to the side, fabric sticking to his skin like flypaper. "Hell, who knows? Mebbe vamps got some kinda sterilizin' thing in their spit."

Another lick of lips, less nerves, more hunger. Conrad looked up, then placed his hands on Worth, one on his bicep and the other over his heart. "I haven't...stopped before. What if I can't stop myself?"

"Past my expiry date, anyway, sweetheart." Something flashed in Conrad's eyes and Worth felt his pulse quickening as his voice softened slightly. "If I don't stop ya, one a them will. 's fine. Ain't no way we're gettin' outta here with you fallin' over. C'mon."

Like water against rock, tension carved deep grooves in the edges of Conrad's lips. Fingers tensed on Worth's bicep and his arm automatically reacted, moving, puncture releasing a fresh trickle of blood. That was all it took before Conrad descended, mouth open, tongue making immediate contact with Worth's skin. The doctor inhaled sharply as fang grazed the edge of the wound, blood leaving his body and sliding down the back of Conrad's throat. They were both shaking slightly, he realized, and then immediately tried to forget it. It was probably just stress and exhaustion and nothing more. There was something hypnotic in the rhythmic tug of Conrad's mouth on his skin, making him feel somewhat relaxed, dulling the pain. Then again, maybe it wasn't the way his flesh was being worked and, instead, something actually in vampire saliva. Either way, he was definitely a fan.

Only tongue was passing over the wound now, swirling and sliding, cleaning the area thoroughly. Worth's head was still mushy in the best of ways, like a lazy early morning doze.

He looked at Conrad. Conrad looked back at him. By the door to the room, someone cleared their throat.

"Hate to rush you but, remember? We're working on borrowed time."

"Yeah. We're comin'." They were still looking at each other even though Conrad was no longer feeding. Some weird moment that would probably have lasted forever under different circumstances. "Right, Connie?"

Conrad's voice was measured, low, eyes hard. "Just as soon as you get your hand out of my hair, sweetheart."

What? He frowned, felt the moment breaking as the nerves in his good hand began to acknowledge the slide of cool hair between its fingers. Huh. Well, shit. "Just bein' considerate. Had a hell of a cowlick goin'. S'sorry ter have tried ter help." Ignoring Conrad's narrowed eyes, his hand slid free and he immediately fixed his shirt, moving out of the holding cell. "Think puppy's gettin' anxious. Might as well head out now."

Opening the door fully, Nigel cautiously led the way into the hall. They had to step over (or on, apparently goat feet gave you extra good balance) two dead sentry trolls on their way out and over to a fire escape stairwell. The still brown-haired succubus was breathing heavily and Caiohme was blushing. He wanted to get mad, but Worth had a feeling the shape shift was involuntary, much like the way a stomach gurgled when food was nearby. Too bad about Caiohme's taste. Worth had sort have been rooting for Nigel to win his Nanny. Regardless, once they exited the stairwell and hit the sidewalk at the side of the building, he moved in and nudged Caiohme away, wrapping his good arm around the succubus' waist. "I got her."

Nigel held up a hand, palm up, then walked by himself around to the front of the building. Just ahead of Worth, Caiohme took a breath, hands wringing. "We came right after a guard change, but since you and Conrad were taken in there, the shifts have been faster and more sporadic."

"So yer tellin' me wot?" He lifted the succubus a little higher, feeling her body turning lukewarm against his side.

"We walk as much as we can but we're taking a straight shot down this main road. If we're lucky, we'll manage to get to the bridge and Hanna before they sound an alarm."

"Been around long enough ta know we ain't gonna get that lucky. Whass th' back up?"

"We run with the hounds of hell behind us."

"You mean run like the hounds of hell are behind us." Conrad carefully corrected.

She turned and blinked in the moonlight. "Like?"

"Right, fine. Fuck're we waitin' fer?"

A nod and Nigel returned along with Hey and Ram. "They were our backup, buying us time in the front of the building. We killed a set of guards in the front as well as outside your room. If any others showed up and found the front guards, they would kill them or try to hold them off to give us time."

"Sounds like a real well thought out plan," Worth grumbled and the group set out, walking as leisurely as possible down Cambridge Street. "I'm real sure we ain't conspicuous."

"W-we are hoping th-that no one n-notices," Nigel mumbled.

"Well they're gonna notice 'ventually." At least his shoulder wasn't bothering him too much. "How kin ya be sure Hanna's waitin'?"

"When y-you were cap-ptured, I sent word."

"Word, huh? Good ta know that neither snow nor rain nor heat nor complete breakdown in Western civilization kin keep th' postal service from deliverin' yer message."

"Lay off him." Ram slithered up beside the doctor and he felt the glare more than saw it. "This was his plan and it's working well. He didn't have to risk his life to get you out of there, none of us did."

"Uh huh." Eyes remained fixed straight ahead, at the asphalt and the dirt and the tiny plants forging a new life in the cracks of cement. "How long a walk we got here?"

"F-from th-the jail to Hanna? Ab-bout one mile."

From far below, Hey spoke. "Someone is looking."

"Yeah? Look back." He whipped his own head around, shooting a sneer across the street at what turned out to be an average, run of the mill ogre. Muddy shoulders raised, head dipped, and it quickly shuffled away.

Bangles clinked. "I don't think that will work every time and does anyone want to tell me why one of you is red and the other has dried blood all over him?"

"Me 'n' Connie had good bondin' time with th' boss. 'Parently he weren't too pleased with th' work we've been doin' 'round th' place." Christ the succubus was getting heavy. He paused to pull her a bit more upright. "What was it he said? Wanned ter make his point?"

"Ugh. Yes. If he wasn't a bad guy I'd think he and Hanna would enjoy each others' company."

Amusement fluttered in Worth's chest. "Did ya jus' call 'im a bad guy?"

"Yes. What else am I supposed to call him?" He was feeling better. Plenty of fluster and snark. "Nemesis du jour? Are we going for some sort of James Bond villain name?"

"Yeah. Less do that one. Wotcha gonna call 'im?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's not the time."

"Ain't no better time, Connie. C'mon," he was growing aware of more eyes on them. They were in a slightly more populated area now, and there was no way that word of their capture hadn't been making the rounds. "Hit me with somethin' good."

"I don't know. Pumpkinhead?"

"Naw, that ain't gonna work. 'Sides it's pro'lly copyrighted."

"I'm fairly certain copyright no longer matters."

"'s th' principle of th thing."

"Since when did you give two shits about that?"

A group had started to form, was now following them. He could see the bridge, but it was still some ways off. There was no way they were going to make it. "See, I was thinkin' somethin' like The Carver. Gets th' point across, makes 'im sound real menacing, 'n' relates ter his hobbies."

"Well then let's just call him DickFace."

Surprised laughter burst from Worth's throat. "Where th' fuck're ya gettin' that one?"

"Well you have Gold Finger who touched things and turned them to gold." The group was growing bolder, forming a thick semicircle around their sides and back. "He seemed preoccupied with carving a penis into your face."

Some mirth died down then. "Jus' how far did he get on that one?"

"Far enough."

"'m gonna kill 'im."

"Before or after the mob lynches us?"

He opened his mouth to reply when a horn sounded, followed quickly by another. Worth took a breath, and in one fluid motion, dipped a knee nearly to the ground on his next step, lowering his body far enough down to roll his right shoulder beneath the succubus. Rising, he lifted her up, carrying her across his shoulder now. As per usual, they might not get out of this one alive. As usual, he thought, finding it odd that he felt barely any pain when he used his left hand to pull Lamont's cross from around his neck, holding in a fist, he wasn't going down without a fight.

The moment was nearly upon them, Worth could feel it buzzing in his bones, sensed it as dogs sense an impending storm. They would keep walking. They would not look back. Moonlight races didn't like head on confrontations. They liked taking the back, thriving on the smell of fear that lifted from a human's skin like white dandelion puffs carried away within a summer breeze. The moment one of them turned around, that would be the spark that turned from a slow, pondering eternal stalking into an overwhelming frontal attack. Eventually someone in the mob would break rank, howl, leap upon them, just as battles beginning when a single nervous archer accidentally lets loose with a single, fumbling arrow. When that happened, they would run and they would fight. And it would happen. It should happen. It was what usually happened.

The only difference here was that the ground had started to shake and Worth could feel unease spreading not just from his little group of escapees, but also from the Unseelie following them. "Gettin' a feelin' we might not be dealin' with a mob after all, love."

The thunder rumbling up beneath their feet was growing stronger. Around them the mob was beginning to disperse. This time it was Worth who could smell their fear, musky and heavy like mildewed clothes. There was another scent, something salty and burning. The pressure from their backs and sides had eased enough that he looked around at the group.

"Ugh, what is that smell?" Thanks, Conrad. Took the words right out of his mouth.

Caiohme was shaking, nothing too new there. Hey chewed on her nails. Nigel's eyes were wide, sweat visibly beading on his brow. The Naga just looked like a person who'd caught their first whiff of a landfill.

"I th-th-think w-w-we sh-sh-sh," Nigel swallowed over his words.

Beside him, Conrad was scowling and turned to look. "Oh. God. What. What is-"

Worth looked as well, feeling the wind knocked out of him. The rest of the mob had spotted it as well and had dispersed, most heading into the buildings sitting along the roadside like a handy set of concrete and glass fencing pointing them along the path towards the bridge. It was large, about the size of an elephant, possibly even a bit bigger. It was skinless, all red, angry muscle and pale connective tissues. Veins throbbed, full of a black liquid. The body was similar to a centaur's, a human like figure sprouting up from the back of a horse's body. There was a horse's head sprouting from a short, thin neck on the front, oversized and flopping, smashing against asphalt, like a wild water hose. As it ran, the horse head flailed, connecting with a mailbox, crushing it like Worth had crushed beer cans under foot in his college days. Foam was dripping from the horse mouth, grayed out as it mixed with the bile blood streaming from nostrils. The man's head was missing a nose and ears, possessing only an oversized mouth and a single, crimson eye.

"Nuckelavee," Caiohme wheezed, stumbling as the ground shook.

Nigel helped her back up and exhaled a single word. "Run."

You didn't have to tell Worth twice. He pulled Conrad around by his shirt sleeve and threw him forward. Good thing about running for your life, adrenaline expanded muscle, quickened reflexes. It was as close to supernatural as a human could get. Hooves clacked, worn soles scuffed, scales slid. Lungs were screaming, burning, ground shaking. Worth fell, was yanked back up by pale hands. Conrad could go, could use his vampire speed to zoom across the bridge and get away. But no, stupid fuck kept hanging back, holding back, matching speed with Worth. Stupid, stupid fuck.

There was no way to avoid stumbling, avoid being slowed down, avoid falling. The ground was moving too much now, there was no way to balance or predict the movement beneath feet.

"It'ssssssssss gaininggggg."

Breath tasted of metal. Words felt like straw. "I know!"

A hiss and a shriek. He couldn't help but look, grimacing over his shoulder as he saw Ram in the horse head's mouth, body snapping as it was violently swung side to side. Goddamn it. One down, six to go. No time to mourn. Not now.

The Nuckelavee hadn't stopped chasing, had merely slowed. The quaking of earth was rattling Worth's brain, fucking up his vision. They were nearing the bridge, but he kept falling. They were all falling, all scrabbling. He kept trying to shove Conrad ahead with his left arm. He rarely made contact with much past the uneven scratch of asphalt grinding across skin. And that fucker. That stupid fucker. Kept stopping and picking him up.

The next sound he heard was best characterized as a fleshy whomp. It was followed by a scream, high, feminine, ending with the shaky bleat of a goat. He looked as Conrad pulled him back up by hands speckled with Worth's own blood and small pebbles. The head had swung, had flung Hey off to the side. Caiohme was going after her. Nigel was going after Caiohme. They were divided, distracted. They were fucked.

"Take her!" Worth screamed, trying to pawn the succubus off onto Conrad. "Yer th' fastest. Get!"

"What? No! You're going to just try and fight! You go! Get to Hanna!"

Talking. Time. Wasting. Nigel was tiny, surprisingly fast, throwing rocks with accuracy at the Nuckelavee's single eye. The head was still flinging about, body rearing up, hooves crashing down. They all fell.

"You take her! Get her over th' water!"

"No! Goddamn it, Worth!" And it was now that Worth first realized Conrad wasn't Conrad anymore. He was that set of white, pure angles sizzling under the moon. "Stick to the mission. Get her across. We'll distract that...thing. Stay here and you'll distract me and we all die. Fuck off while we all have a chance."

The ground moved again. Worth thought he might vomit.

"Connie," he looked at the vampire, unable to say anything else.

The vampire's right arm wrapped around Worth, pulling him up, pulling up the succubus with his left. Eyes were black slits. Close. So close. Scythe tipped hand soft as it smoothed over Worth's arm, onto his chest.

Worth found himself flat on his ass again and rolling. Asshole had actually shoved him. He wanted to yell, to scream at the back that was so far away, jerking and jumping, slashing at the skinless creature.

Fuck. Fuck him. What the hell was Worth supposed to do. He only had one option now. Get Hanna. Get reinforcements. Get back. Do it. Now.

Succubus over his shoulder, Worth ran. He didn't look behind himself. He just stared straight ahead, free arm pumping, eyes on the asphalt. The bridge was strewn with cars, but he was nearly there. Don't listen to the screams behind, to the howls, just keep running. Don't stop. Get to Hanna, get to a gun, get to something.

He did his best to weave through the abandoned vehicles. He coughed. His eyes were burning. Limbs were weak, spent, no more supernatural chemicals to help. He was just an old, mortal man ping-ponging his way through a mess of metal.

He fell. There had been no shake on the bridge. He just hadn't seen the suitcase. The succubus rolled away and laid limply against a tire.

No. He had to keep going. They had to. He forced himself up on raw palms and knees split by road rash. He stumbled over to her. "C'mon!"

Horizontal slit pupils set in red eyes met his as ivory fingers wrapped around his arm.

Then he saw nothing but light. Bright, blinding, startling. Back up. He leaned against the car as Hanna ran up, face hidden by the bright lights behind him. "Where's the operative?"

"Here! Take her! We gotta go back! Gimme," traitorous body coughed, limbs threatening to give out beneath him, "gun. Bomb. Tank. Wotever. He's still back there."

"What?" Confusion on Hanna's face, looking back and forth between Worth and the succubus' one fanged face.

Worth pushed Hanna weakly, stumbling his way past, headed towards the RV. When had it gotten so dark? There'd been a moon out before, hadn't there? He was walking sideways, bumping off of cars, gritting his teeth. There were weapons in the vehicle. He could use those. Get back to Conrad. Shoot that horsefaced fucker. Bridge needed to stop swaying. Head needed to clear. Needed.

The last thing he heard before crumpling into a blacked out pile of limbs was "Dude, you are bleeding a lot and, oh-"

XXXXX

Everything hurt. Everything. It was like being hungover but lacking in the fun memories from the night before.

The bed felt strange. Too flat. He felt beside himself. Fuck.

With effort he sat up. Blankets had been tucked in around his body, and their extra snug pull against his shoulder set his nerves on edge. He didn't have the energy to tear them off, needing to simply sit upright for a few minutes, waiting for his head to stop swimming. The sheets slipped from his body, puddling and folding across his lap. How much time had passed? Where was Conrad?

The last thought managed to drag him from their bed and to the door. He opened it and walked out, wincing at the bright sunlight in the RV.

"Where's Connie?"

"Worth. You should rest." Squinting he could make out the zombie sitting in the breakfast nook holding a paperback. "Please lie down. I can bring you some water and something to eat."

Fuck that. Where was Connie? "Fuck that. Where's Connie?" That probably would have been more forceful if he hadn't had to lean against the kitchenette counter when he said it.

There was too much quiet. "Please. Lie-"

"Please stop sayin' please 'n' fuckin' tell me." His upper lip curled, quivering slightly.

A breath. Zombies didn't need to breathe. Breathing was just an excuse to draw something out. "We do not know. He did not return last night."

Worth shook his head, weight falling heavier against the counter. "Fine. I'll go look."

"I do not believe you are in any position to look."

"Don't give a shit." He tried to push off from the counter. He failed. "Gonna look."

"I do not want to lock you inside your room or tie you down. But I will if I must."

Any other day and Worth may have taken a mild interest in seeing if that threat held true. Currently, he was of a one-track mind. "G'on 'n' try."

"Worth." The book in leather bound hands was set down upon the maps blanketing the tabletop. "You have a stab wound. It was flushed and sewn up. You lost quite a bit of blood. You are dehydrated. You likely have not eaten anything recently. You are barely holding yourself up right now with the aid of the counter. What resistance do you believe you can truly put up against anyone right now?"

God damn he hated logic sometimes.

"Wot's bein' done ter find him?"

"If you will sit down and drink something, I will tell you."

Sitting was probably a good idea. Mostly because he wasn't sure how much longer he could support himself standing. He slumped his way over to the bench and sat down. Nodding, the zombie stood and moved to the kitchenette area Worth had vacated. A clean glass was procured and a jug of water. "There are parties seeking along the riversides. Several water nymphs. They were invaluable earlier in passing messages from Nigel back to our camp. Allies are patrolling bridges."

The glass was set down and Worth picked it up, drinking, finding he was far thirstier than he had realized as his parched throat nearly choked on the water. "Thass it?"

"For now, yes. It is day. Conrad will not be doing much with the sun out. We are hoping Nigel, Hey, Ram, and Caiohme will show up in the meantime, if they are not hiding out with-"

Water finished, Worth dropped the glass back on the table, water droplets staining the top map. "Ram's dead."

"Ah. That is unfortunate." The glass was picked up, wet spots dabbed with the inner lining of the zombie's trenchcoat.

A spindly hand rubbed across Worth's eyes and forehead. "Yer tellin' me I'm th' only one who got out?"

"You and the succubus, yes. She is being tended to. As she gains strength she can provide us with valuable information, but she was quite weak. Fortunately, some were willing to help her regain her health."

"That where Hanna's at?"

"No." Jerky was being retrieved now, ziplock bag handed over to Worth who began eating nearly immediately. "He is currently passing on communications to the counsel."

"Yeah? Have him pass on this one."

"I do not believe raising that particular finger will convey necessary information."

"Beg ter differ."

XXXXX

Worth hadn't bothered to try and sleep, despite the zombie's many repeated requests. The tying down threat was only brought up again when he caught Worth attempting to hotwire the RV. Of course hotwiring had been his fall back plan. The original plan was to just start it up and drive off, but the zombie had easily avoided that by keeping the keys in his pocket. After being caught with his hands in the cookie jar, the zombie had relocated his reading spot to the driver's seat.

Nearing sunset Hanna showed up, looking frazzled and tired enough that Worth actually held back on his questions until the mage had been fed by his undead cuddle buddy. He watched him the entire time, though, stare set like a junkie waiting for his fix to cook in a spoon. It was enough to get Hanna talking before he finished his meal.

"Yeah, I don't know, bro. Trust me, I want to find him, I want to find them all, but," he swallowed thickly, "daylight doesn't make it super easy."

"Moonlight races get stronger come sundown. We oughta be hittin' 'em when they're weakest."

"Yeah but they also kinda have an enormous, yannow, army in there? Even if some of them can't take sunlight, a lot of them are totally fine with catching a tan. Nuckelavees aren't things to mess with if you can avoid it, and, Jesus, Ly Erg? The Ly Erg? That dude's all Highlander style, the more he kills the stronger he gets, doesn't matter if it's daytime or night time or prime time or whatever. He is a dangerous motherfucker. You are massively lucky he didn't fuck you up."

"Yeah. I feel real damn lucky right now," was the growled response. "Wotabout succubus? Ain't she given ya any info?"

"Yeah, um, the Nucky and Ly Erg and the leader, man, a headless horseman, crazy shit. She has locations of some other strongholds, too, and the council is trying to launch some surprise attacks on them like, right now. Like you said, daylight and all. But like, no joke, the Redcaps have some serious clout and some crazy powerful dudes in their hierarchy." A sigh as the zombie refilled Hanna's glass in an unspoken request to drink more. Worth snatched a piece of jerky from Hanna's baggie chewing sullenly. "Fortunately we found some agents within the Seelie Court and are hoping to be able to just monitor them, feed some false information. Ugh, it's just, this has been building for years now and is pretty big and complicated. Boston sect wasn't even the biggest or with the most powerful dudes. Lotta seriously valuable intel. It's good we got her out."

"Uh huh, yeah, thass all that matters. Gettin' some goddamned succubus outta there." Jerky tore between his teeth and he hurled the bit still in his hands at the screen door. Calmly, the zombie retrieved it and set to cleaning it off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to knock the green fucker out as much as he did at that moment. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Dude, don't waste. We need food to last, okay? Look, we aren't leaving till we find Conrad." Puffy, sunken eyes looked at the doctor and the sincerity in their worn, blue gaze made him avoid looking back. "That's that. Word is that the city's been quiet. Like, seriously super ridiculous quiet. Either they're preparing for something, or they may have skipped town. We're going in tonight to search. No point in looking for a vampire with the sun high in the sky, you know?"

He did. It didn't make his body itch any less with the need to do something. "Fine. I'll take ya where I last saw him."

"Uhhhhhhh yeah about that. You know how I said we? I mean like, Zachariah and me and like, a big group. Noooooooot so much you."

"Bullshit."

"No more like people shit."

That threw him enough to squint. "Wot?"

"I dunno, just, not shit from a bull so I guess shit from a person? Cow shit? Is that the right opposite? Whatever, the point is you are fucked up. You had a hole in your shoulder that we sewed up as best we could. You have gauze all over your hands and knees and your chin and cheek? Looks like you got scraped across the pavement."

"Pro'lly 'cause I was."

"Yeah, well, see? If I was jacked up like that would you let me go anywhere important? Yeah, no," he pursed his lips, "I see you trying to think of an answer and the answer is no, you wouldn't. Stay back here. If Connie shows up, awesomesauce, you can set off a flare to let us know. How's he gonna feel if he comes back to base and no one is here, bro? Seriously serious. He needs a friendly-ish face to return to."

"I'm goin'."

"Really? Fff, yeah, okay, fine." The mage waved off a curious look from the zombie. "Go grab a gun and follow us. We're gonna walk for a few miles. I'm sure you won't have any trouble keeping up and preventing us from, you know, covering all the ground we need to cover. Also I bet you can totally shoot great what with just one working arm. Yeah, you won't be dead weight at all, bro."

Unlike with the zombie, he could remember times when he'd wanted to punch Hanna this much in the past. He opened his mouth to begin a bitchfest when there was a commotion outside. Hanna and the zombie were out of the door quickly, leaving Worth to grunt and groan his stiff legged way out of the RV.

A group had formed with Hanna's red head popping up here and there, weaving its way to the middle. The sun was casting pink and purple haze across the figures that were standing in a circle. Worth gimped over, grumbling and weakly shoving. The creatures moved, more out of respect for who he was than for the actual force behind his hands.

In the center Hanna was on his knees, speaking softly to a child. Dark hair framing blue tinted skin, a mouth ringed by flaking, dried blood.

Worth was on his protesting knees in a heartbeat, hand grabbing one of her shoulders. "Where's everyone? Wot happened?"

"That's kinda what I was asking," The mage grumbled, but said no more.

"I don't know. We split up."

"Whadda ya mean?" Panic was mixing with hope, creating a toxic sludge in his chest. "Wot happened?"

"Conrad and Nigel were attacking the monster, the one with two heads. You ran off with the succubus. The monster, it was breathing on us. It didn't bother me or Conrad, but it was bothering Caiohme and Nigel."

"Nuckelavee have toxic breath," Hanna supplied, interrupting Hey. "You know how they say some people have dragon breath? Yeah not joking with those dudes. It can kill crops and animals by breathing on them. Nigel and Caiohme breathe but you and Conrad, er, don't, so..."

"Oh," she blinked onyx eyes, hands folded together. "He hurt it a lot, Conrad, hurt the monster. It fell down and didn't move much after he poked through its eye with his fingers. But that's when everyone else came out. Caiohme and Nigel took me in one direction and Conrad went in another. We got cornered near the bridge. Nigel and Caiohme were trying to fight but...they were so weak. And I...I was hungry."

"Hungry?" The doctor wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, knees creaking, balance threatening to give out.

Her eyes looked up at him. "So. I ate them."

The group pulled back, murmurs zipping around like fireflies in a bottle. Apparently cannibalism wasn't looked upon highly among the Moonlight races any more than the Daywalkers.

"Hey, it's okay," the mage smiled weakly, patting a hand over her hair. "You were scared and um, just to be clear, who did you eat here?"

She looked at Hanna curiously, head tilted slightly to the side. "The Redcaps?"

"Oh, okay, cool, just, y'know. Clarification. It's important. Good stuff."

"They...backed off after I ate. We walked onto the bridge and they didn't follow us. We got inside a car and locked the doors. They're still there, sleeping. So I came here. Can you help them?" Eyes looked up again, jet black almond orbs in a round face. "I don't want them to die."

"Yeah, we'll help them. We'll go with you and we can bring them back here, okay? You're mega super brave, Hey, for serious. You did awesome."

Round face tilted down, nodding.

XXXXX

Worth waited in the RV, staring out of the windshield at the dark sky and overgrown buildings. It had been a prestigious university at one point, but was little more than rusted, crumbling memories now. The night was dragging on, each minute feeling like an hour. He had tried to read one of Conrad's ridiculous books, but couldn't concentrate on it. When a group had returned with Caiohme and Nigel that had been good, only because it gave him something to do. He wasn't as well versed in Seelie medicine, but he could dress wounds regardless as to the body they resided upon. The rest of it was mostly just making sure they had clean water, something to eat, and a relatively comfortable place to rest.

Groups slowly wandered their way back to camp one by one, and each time Worth had hobbled his way out to meet them, searching their faces for ivory skin and a snaggletooth. Each time he found only apologetic shakes of heads and averted gazes. The city had been abandoned. It was empty. No one was finding anyone or anything.

More than once Worth found himself staring blankly, brain asking what he would do if he lost his partner. If it was just Hanna and the zombie and the doctor, what would he do? What would any of them do? How would they travel? Who would cover his back? Who would he talk to? Could he keep sleeping in the bed now that it was only half full?

When Hanna returned at nearly five in the morning, eyes dull, back hunched, Worth limped out of the RV and walked past him wordlessly. He didn't know where he was going, and he knew all the moving around wasn't helping anything but fuck it. He couldn't, he just couldn't take any more of sitting around waiting for more of the same. He didn't need to hear "we'll try again tomorrow" he needed to hear an uptight faggot complaining about a new hole in his favorite argyle socks.

Worth walked around campus. He checked in on Nigel and Caiohme and Hey. He looked into the tent serving as a base of command. He wandered past the gathered groups of Seelie huddled around fires, cooking whatever the hell they were eating. He passed a small group of deer who paused in their grazing long enough to ensure he wasn't a threat before their faces dipped back down to dewy, overgrown grass.

Rounding the edge of a building, Worth leaned against the brick, hands in his pockets, fishing out a box of matches. He shook it, listening to the dry rasp of wood against cardboard. Methodically he pushed the box open and withdrew the sticks one by one, scratching them against the box, watching the flame leap up and then burn its way down, singing the tips of his calloused fingers. Once they burned out against his skin, he repeated the process. It should hurt more than it did, his brain reasoned dully, but Worth was having difficulty feeling much of anything at the moment.

He had three matches left. Matches were hard to come by. He should be rationing them. But what was the point? He lit another one, staring at the flicker of fire as it ate its way down the thin stick and something caught in the light. Something far off but coming closer.

His eyes narrowed, sore muscles in his back tensing. Enough moonlight to see in general. Not enough to see specifically. The deer behind him scattered. His jaw clenched.

There was another flash, and this time he shoved off of the wall. He knew that flash. Knew it as surely as he knew that, goddamn it, he had wasted those matches. Green, glinting, reflecting.

He moved forward as fast as he could and balled up all the worry and sickness and stress, using it to fuel the punch that cracked against Conrad's jaw.

Conrad was cupping his face where he'd been struck, eyes wide and confused, edging their way into anger. "Ow! What the fuck? Nice to see you, too, Wor-"

"What th' fuck was that? Huh? Where th' fuck you been?" He shoved Conrad's shoulder once, and then twice, feeling him solid and cool beneath his hand. "You stupid fuckin' faggot!" Fabric bunched in his grip. He continued to walk forward, forcing Conrad backwards. "Stupid goddamn idiot! Ya coulda died! I thought ya died! I been here all goddamn day sittin' 'n' waitin' fer someone ter bring back a pile of goddamned ashes 'n' here ya come jus' waltzin' right back in like nothin' happened? Fuck you! Fuck you, Conrad, goddamned fuck you!"

Worth stopped moving, standing in place now, eyes wide, shaking the vampire instead of forcing him back, staring down into the tapetum lucidum green glow of predator eyes, ticking back and forth as they looked at the doctor's face. He shook Conrad again, feeling his face twisting, muscles weakening. His tongue was thick, he couldn't speak, couldn't say anything else. All he could do was shake the vampire and stare at him, eyebrows wringing themselves above his eyes.

Conrad growled and fisted Worth's shirt in his hands. Faster than Worth's feet could keep up he shot forward, not stopping until Worth's back slammed against brick wall. The crack had been hard enough to send a jolt of searing pain all down the doctor's left side and he hissed, eyes closing. Conrad pulled him down so that their faces met and then it wasn't faces meeting but mouths, wet and demanding and hands weren't in clothes, they were in hair, clawing and pulling and gliding over skin. Conrad's fang was pressing, slicing across Worth's mouth, and it was sloppy and now he was bleeding, could taste copper in his mouth along with Conrad's tongue and he wasn't sure who was moaning and he sure as fuck didn't care.

The vampire pulled back and Worth nearly followed him, panting, hands cupping Conrad's jawline. Conrad's hands were on Worth's neck, fingertips still buried in the short, blonde hair at the nape of his neck. "That," he said, licking his fang, eyes sharp and emerald, "was for me saving your ass back by the bridge."

"Yeah?" Heart was slamming against ribs, fingers were quaking. The corner of Worth's mouth tilted up. "Well ya still owe me fer California."

A dark eyebrow raised behind dusty glasses. "And you still owe me for the skinwalker."

"Guess this might take awhile then."

"I guess so."

And for the first time in a long time, Worth truly felt alive.