Spawn woke with a shout, his body shaking and covered with a light sheen of sweat, and it took him a moment to remember what had shocked him into waking up so abruptly.

He'd been having another dream.

The same dream.

He shuddered as he thought about it, and then he felt ashamed. He groaned, resting his face against the pillows on his bed as he continued to think about it.
Something wasn't right...

No, He told himself. This isn't your place to interfere. You let her go.

That didn't stop the feeling of remorse and what seemed like fear from creeping into his stomach. He'd left her alone for her safety and for the safety of everyone else, but was all really well?
Maybe he should have kept her with him. He didn't like not knowing if she was alright. If anything were to happen to her now, it would be all his fault.

He raked a hand through his hair, unsettling it, and then he rolled out of bed, making his way towards the door. Ridiculous as it sounded, without Ivory here the house seemed empty, cold, and quiet.

Well, it always had been, but she'd brought a little bit of sunlight along with her. And now that she was gone, the house was quiet again.
Spawn thought about all that had befallen her while she'd stayed with him. She'd had her ankle broken, was kidnapped by Daimons, was attacked by her son of a bitch ex-husband, and then her nephiew had died. He could still see the look of shocked pain on her face when he'd told her about his death, like her heart had shattered.

And he had forced himself to turn away when she had given him the same look only days later, when he'd told her she had to leave for both their sakes.

He hated the idea of her leaving, but this life was too dangerous for her. Zarek never got her hurt the way he had. Even if he had, Spawn doubted the ex-slave would have actually minded.

But he did. And that was the problem.

One of the rules that Acheron had told to his Hunter bretheren was to never fall in love. He thought he'd never have a problem with that-his own heart had been broken and he'd never want to put another through the heartbreak his wife had gone through. She'd died in his arms, not yet 27. The image would be burned into his head forever.

But Gods, he couldn't ignore Ivory. She was someone that his true love had never been- Vivacious, sarcastic, and with a wit that was razor sharp and as dangerous as any weapon she might choose to weild. She had dark brown curls and eyes the color of a storm, with emotions to match, and when she smiled-

He sighed, realizing the truth about Ivory. She was nothing like anyone else he had ever known. And he was facinated by her; all of her faults, her biting sarcasm, and her beautiful presence.

He was considering his dilema when he looked at the calendar in his kitchen. It had been two days since he'd last seen her.

Maybe, he could stop by Zarek's cabin to see if she was-

No.

Perhaps he could-

No, he shouldn't.

He finally gave in, picking up his phone and dialing in her number. There was a numbing moment of silence before her voicemail answered on her behalf.

"Hey, you've reached Ivory. I'm not here at the moment, but if you could leave a message I'll do my best to-"
He ended the call, frozen into silence. Why would she not have answered her phone? Was she still angry at him? Could she be dead?
He tried again, yeilding the same results as before.

"Hey, you've reached-"
He ended the call again, scrolling through the contacts until he found the very last one, and with only a second of hessitation he clicked the call button. The answer came after about three or four seconds.

"What the hell do you want?" Zarek snapped bitingly. Spawn ignored his insolent tone.
"Is Ivory with you?" He said quickly. "I can't get a hold of her, and..."
The silence on the other end was deafening, and the fear tightened its grip on his throat.
"Well?" He prompted. Zarek was quiet for another minute.

"She's here."
He breathed a sigh of relief and then continued. "Can I speak to her?"
"No."
"Why not?" He said angrily. "Is she still mad at me?"
"That's not it..." Zarek said, almost unconfortable with the subject. He was silent again, and Spawn felt himself slowly losing his patience.

"What is it?" He demanded. "Can she talk?"
"No."
"Why?" He pryed. "Is she asleep?"
There was silence again. "One might say that..." Zarek finally relented. He felt confused and a little irritated and he was tired of his fellow Hunter's games.
"What is wrong with her?" He demanded loudly. Zarek replied in what could almost be called a somber tone,
"She's dying, Spawn."
Spawn almost dropped the phone and he felt all emotion leave him. "What?" He whispered.

"You heard me. Ivory is dying."
He slammed the phone down and ran upstairs. He opened the blackout curtains on his window for a second and hissed as the last rays of daylight burned his hands, and then he pushed himself back. The full force of Zarek's words hit him. Ivory was dying.

And he was trapped here until the sun went down, over an hour from now.

That hour passed as slowly as a year, and he was sure this was to be used a new torture method sometime in the near future. The gods and the elements were already using it upon him, getting the results he was sure they wanted.

Spawn was agonized and felt the horror of Zarek's words sinking into his heart with each passing second. His fault. Ivory was dying, and if he hadn't abandoned her, if he'd only listened, she'd still be fine...

This was what he got for trying to cheat the Fates, trying to keep her alive even after what the Fates had proclaimed. He thought she'd be fine without him, and look where that got them.

He ached to know what had happened to her. Humans seemed to be so easy to kill. Guns, fire, freezing, starving, being beaten, stabbed- anything could harm and quite possibly kill any human.

It made him dizzy and filled him with pain, the thought of any of these happening to Ivory. Hell, he'd almost killed the doctor when he was applying pressure to her ankle to find the point of breakage, and that was the guy's job.

Well, he killed him later, but that was a different story.

He rested his head in his hands, sighing deeply and pleading with the Gods to let the sun set so he could leave his prison to find her.

"I'm tired o' living, and scared o' dying."
This line from the song Old Man River, from one of my favorite musicals, ran through my head in Paul Robeson's deep baratone voice as I lay in bed. It was a different bed, the bed that was in Zarek's small cabin, a bed which took up most of the room in the small one-room dwelling.

I repeated it alloud, my voice shaky and hessitant, and I was worried for a second that my vocal chords wouldn't work, that Iccarius had wrought damage that my limited powers couldn't repair. I was pleased to find that my saprano chords were still intact, and I finished the song with no problem, my voice reaching the loudest point in the song before Zarek poked his head up from the underground tunnels. I noticed that the stove in the corner of the room had been pushed aside to reveal the mouth of the tunnel.

"Was that you?" He inquired. I rolled my eyes, trying to sit up.

"No, that was my imaginary demon. His name is Francis."
"That's a girls name."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"Fine, her name is Francis. Satisfied?"
He fell silent. "That was you," He finally stated.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I muttered, rolling over on my side away from him. I felt a thick bandage on my throat and I shuddered, closing my eyes.

"Do you sing often?"
"Yes," I said, almost haughtily. "I was the best singer in my high school in Florida."
He was silent again, and then I heard the sound of him pulling himself out of the tunnel and then pushing the stove back into place.

"Well, no need to get all self-congratulatory about it," He muttered. I frowned at the wall, not responding for a while.

"Do you have any asprin?" I demanded finally. He was silent again and I heard bottles shifting, something being poured into a glass, and then he sat down on the edge of the bed. I rolled over to see him offering me a cup of something clear that had a suspicious smell, and I glared up at him. "That's not asprin."
"No, it's not."
I took it anyway, and when the liquid came in contact with my throat I coughed and spluttered, trying to get the taste of it off my tongue. "What the hell is that?"
"It's Vodka."
I used my hand to try and wipe the daste from my taste buds. "No, it's not. Jesus, I've had Vodka. That's not Vodka."
"Yes, it is. You're just not used to really strong Vodka." He looked down at me. "And you know, kid, you could use some fucking strong booze after what happened to you."
I watched him for a minute, trying to pry any emotion from his tone and his face, but I could see nothing. I held the cup in two hands like a toddler with a cup of juice, downing the thing and then welcoming the buzz that followed it. I handed the cup to him and he refilled it, and I downed it as well. I looked at the bottle. It was almost half dead. It wouldn't hurt it to have a few more cups...

Five cups later I was feeling giggly and giddy. I really liked this Vodka. I couldn't even feel the pain in my throat anymore. Today was going great!
"You do have a nice voice," Zarek admitted, pouring himself a cup and topping off mine.
I hiccuped and then tried to smile at him, laughing when it proved impossible. What he said was surprising, though.

"Thanks," I said warmly. "My sister got the actual art side- you know, paper and pen sketches, landscapes, watercolors, and my half-sister got the rythem and tempo for dancing. I got my mom's voice." I paused, frowning blearily. "Well, not really my mom's. I guess she was my aunt, even though I came from her- nevermind. In any case, I got her voice."

"Do you have any other siblings?" He inquired. I paused, trying to think.
"Yes. Two other brothers. I had three brothers, but one of them died." I leaned in as though it were a conspiring secret. It really wasn't. Everyone in our family knew, so why shouldn't my boss know. I hiccuped again, glad that this was off my chest and even happier when he poured me more of the drink. "You can't tell anyone, alright?"
"Who knows about this besides me? Does Spawn?"
I shook my head wildly. "And you won't tell him, right?" I didn't wait for his response. "You can't tell him or anyone else. Only my parents, Acheron, and now you know."
"What are your thoughts on the man?" He inquired. I laughed.

"Acheron?" I asked with a smaller, more controlled giggle. "He's cute, I guess."
"No, not Acheron. Spawn."
I felt a sobering thought go through my mind, but the alcohol chased it away. "I dunno. He's cute, too."
"Anything about his personality?"
"He keeps me safe. I think he might like me. Not love me, mind you," I interupted my words with a hiccup and a giggle, "Just like me. Like a crush, maybe. And I don't know if I like him or not. He kicked me out, you know."
"What?" He said, looking shocked. "What do you mean?"

"He made me leave, for both our sakes. I think it was because I yelled at him about his wife. I didn't know she existed, but she must have died a long time ago. Maybe it's why he's a hunter." I felt my speech slurring. I blinked to try and regain my train of thought. "Or it might have been about Elsie. She seemed okay to him, but she was flirting with him and I got sorta jealous. Maybe he's scare of commitment, huh?" I laughed at my own words.

"So let me get this straight-you have a crush on a Dark-Hunter?"
I shook my head. " I dunno if I have a crush on Spawn. Maybe. He's cute, but I don't know..."
He raised his own cup to me, and I repeated the gesture. He gave a bitter laugh, touching the edge of his glass to mine. "Here's to the only person on earth whose life is more fucked up than mine."
We were silent after his laughter faded. Then he spoke again a few minutes later.
"Ivory, was the only reason Iccarius found you because Spawn left you at your hotel?"
His tone was accusing, and I didn't like that, even in my present state. "Hey, now, I didn't say that. Wasn't his fault. If I hadn't gone with him, he would have killed Spawn. I don't want him to get hurt."
"He's a hunter. He could have handled anything Iccarius throws at him."
I shook my head. "Iccarius said he killed all of my other Dark-Hunters because they could protect me and because he was trying to get me stationed near Atlantis."
"Atlantis?" He remarked in disbelief. I nodded, and then spent nearly ten minutes explaining to him what had happened since I had left, who I was teaming up with against my sister's army, why they wanted me dead, how my visions were killing me, and who was infiltrating my mind. He listened without interruption the whole way through.

"So you're telling me there's an army of undead zombies here to kill you and anyone who helps you, you're teaming up with Spathi Daimons and Stryker to destroy them and your sister, if they kill you the portal to Atlantis will open and your mother will kill the Goddess of Destruction, and that your psycho mother is talking to you in your head?"
I nodded solemnly, glad that he'd caught up. He took a deep breath and then sighed. "I couldn't have a nice, normal Squire. Oh, no. Gods forbid."
"Hey!" I snapped. "I don't like this any more than you do."
"So when exactly is the bloodshed going to begin?"
I touched the edge of my bandaged throat, feeling another sobering thought in my not-so-clear head. "I think it's already begun."

Spawn was grateful that the night had finally fallen over Alaska, and he drove over to Zarek's cabin in record time and at record speeds, avoiding other cars and human police by taking back roads that were considered dangerous this time of year. Honestly, he didn't care, as long as it took him to Zarek's and took the least ammount of time getting him there.

He killed the engine a few yards from the front door, rushing to it and pounding on it rapidly and repeatedly. Zarek opened it a few seconds later, just as he was pondering knocking on it again.

Zarek contemplated the man before him with scrutinizing eyes. His blond hair was windblown and sticking up in places as though he'd been brushing through it nervously with his fingers. He was about Zarek's height, and closely resembled the Daimons that they both fought on almost a daily basis, with his white-blond hair and the unearthly attractiveness that obviously only women like Sharon and Ivory could appreciate. His eyes were wide and as black as Zarek's, and they held a fear that Zarek could say proudly that his did not. But he knew who this fear was for, and he could almost admire the man for it.

Almost.

As it was, he was pretty pissed that the jerk had abandoned his Squire and almost gotten her killed. She'd been so close to death when Zarek had found her while patrolling the forests around his home almost three days ago. She'd been clinging to life like a fucking rabid dog, unable to die in peace.

He could kill the man for hurting a woman-any woman-like how he'd hurt Ivory.

"I know, I could kill someone like me over it too, but the important thing is that she's alright." He looked into the cabin with fearful eyes. "She is alright, I presume?"
"She's asleep." More like passed out.

"What?" He looked indiginant. "Why is she unconsious?"
"A bottle and a half of Vodka didn't agree with her."
Spawn looked furious. "What?" He all but shouted at Zarek. "Why is she drunk?" He snarled the word in Zarek's face.
"I feel that self-medication is best when your ex-husband slits your throat and leaves you to die, and when the Dark-Hunter who has promised to keep you safe abandons you." Zarek's words were as cold as his black eyes.

Spawn's features became a face of remorse, and Zarek felt the tiniest twinge of guilt for what he'd said, but it was true. He couldn't care about her if he'd left her alone like that.

"Oh, I care," Spawn muttered. "More than you will ever understand."
He shot the former Appolite a sharp look. "She's not your Squire, but whatever you're thinking, it's still forbidden."
Spawn laughed darkly. "And you think I haven't thought about that irritating little fact?"
Zarek crossed his arms, still blocking Spawn's path, and much to Spawn's irritation, the woman who this trouble was over. No, none of this was her fault. She'd just been dragged into it all.

"Let me see her."
"Why should I, Daimon?" Zarek snapped. "You almost got her killed. I'm pretty sure you broke her heart, too. What says you won't do it again?"
"What are you talking about- broke her heart?" The man actually sounded confused.
"Ivory gets pretty talkative when she's drunk. I asked her about you, and she'd been happy before, but her mood changed. She got quieter, especially when she talked about you kicking her out."
"You have no clue why that happened. It had nothing to do with you."
"Oh?" Laughed Zarek. "And who did it have to do with? Your fucking wife? Or maybe that Daimon Elsie that she was talking about? I heard she was pretty flirty and Ivory got a little jealous. Is that why you kicked her to the curb, Blondie?"
"Shut up!" Spawn snarled in his face, and the look he gave Zarek had the other man mentally and physically preparing for a fight. "It's not like that. I care about Ivory more than you could ever know. But if I don't stay away from her, I'm afraid she might-"
"Might what?"
"Die."
Zarek laughed bitterly. "Newflash, buddy, she wasn't in awesome condition when I found her."
"The Fates deemed that she would die a painful death in battle at the hand of one she hadn't known long but cared for. If the way she acts around me is any indication, I'd say she cares. So if I can stay away from her until this is over, I feel that I can keep her alive."
"And what if she does die during the battle?" Zarek inquired, and his voice was not prying or cruel, merely questioning.

Spawn looked saddened. "I don't want to consider that."
"You might have to, some day soon."
"I know I will. But for tonight, can I just see her?" He looked almost pleading. "I just want to see her, to make sure she's safe myself."
Zarek studied him for another second, considered saying things that might have gotten him in trouble, and then eventually he moved aside to let Spawn into the cabin. The ex-appolite wasted no time in rushing to Ivory's side, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her with his face a mask of worry and fear.

There was silence until Ivory coughed, clearing her throat, and Zarek could tell from where he was standing that she'd awoken and was looking at the man.

"Spawn?" She whispered, her voice little more than silent. It was shaky with disbelief and confusion, and for that Zarek didn't blame her. He was pretty confused himself.

"It's me, Ivy. Are you alright?" He pulled her up gently into his arms, and Ivory caught Zarek's eye. Poor girl. He may not want anything to do with her and her freaky life, but she'd had a rough time these past few days.

She gave him a soft smile and then looked back to Spawn. "I've been better." The affects of her drinking seemed almost gone, wiped away by the appearance of the other Dark-Hunter. "How are you? Are you okay?" Her voice was actually filled with as much worry as his had been, maybe a bit more.
"I'm fine," He laughed softly, almost through tears. "Oh, God, Ivy, I'm so sorry I got you into this. It was my fault for leaving you alone. I thought you'd be able to-no, never mind. I hoped you'd be able to be safe without me in your life."
"But now we see that's not the case," She said solemnly, watching him with blue-grey eyes that were clouded with what might have been fear.

"No, it's not. I still think you'd be far safer with someone else, but if you still want me to, I'll be there to protect you." He brushed the hair back from her forehead and then leaned down to rest his lips against it, holding her close. Zarek turned away, not wanting to intrude on what seemed like something he shouldn't have seen.

"Zarek," Ivory said quietly about a minute later. He wheeled around again to face her, and was surprised to see her standing in the middle of the cabin in the black jeans and black long sleeved tee shirt she'd been wearing when he found her. Her jacket had been discarded because of the blood stains no ammount of Clorox would ever remove. The bandage was obtrusive and out of place against her stark skin, but her blue-grey eyes glowed, framed with light brown lashes, and her expression was sweet.

She walked over to his side and pulled him close to her in a tight, friendly embrace, whispering in his ear, "Thank you for saving my life. I don't think I could ever repay you."

"It was nothing," He said gruffly, crossing his arms when she released him, looking down at his feet. She touched his chin, making him look to her.

"Don't say that. For all your faults, you're a good man, Zarek." She quickly hugged him again and then looked to Spawn, who'd watched the ordeal from the bed with silent indifference.

"Can we go home now?"
He nodded and pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders when he reached her. She smiled up at him with an emotion on her fine features that Zarek had read about in books but never actually seen in real life.

"The car's unlocked, Ivory, I'll be out in just a second. I just need to have a word with Zarek." Ivory shot an uneasy glance between the men, and then he smiled to her again. Zarek couldn't manage a smile, not even on the behalf of the girl whose life he had saved.

"I hear a fight and I'll come in hear and kick both of your asses, injured or not," She warned, and then Zarek cracked a smile. Spawn shook his head and rolled his eyes, smile still in place. She shot them both suspicious glances before she shut the door and made her way to the car.

Zarek was silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say to this man.

"You saved her life when I wasn't there for her."

It wasn't accusing, it wasn't a question, and it didn't seem as though Spawn was feeling particularly guilty about it. He merely seemed confused and mystefied. "Why?" He shook his head. "I thought you two didn't get along."
"That doesn't mean I'd leave her to die in the snow," Zarek snapped. "I'm unstable, yeah, but I wouldn't murder someone like her just for spite. Besides, I wouldn't deny anyone-not even you- the happiness that I don't have. I'm not that cruel."
Spawn was silent, and then he extended a hand. "I owe you for this, Zarek. Thank you."
Zarek ignored his hand. "Go. She needs to get some rest and then once the wound heals a bit more you should take her to the hospital to have them check it out to make sure it's not infected. But most of all, she needs peace and quiet and she needs to stay off her feet for a couple of days. And by the way, if you abandon her again, code or no code, I'm going to fucking kill you."
"I wouldn't object to you killing me under those circumstances, especially if I ever let her go again." He smiled to Zarek faintly. "Goodbye, and thank you again."

"I would say anytime, but I'm hoping I won't have to do that again."
Spawn nodded to him, and then he left the ex-slave alone.

We were silent for a while as Spawn sped along the dark roads, and then I asked hesitantly, "Are you sure I should be with you?"
He looked over at me in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Is it safe?" I frowned. "You told me that I was distracting you from helping other people. Maybe you should have just left me at Zarek's."
He looked over to me with remorse in his black eyes. "Well, at least when you were with me you didn't have attempts made on your life on a daily basis. If that means that I have to devote some more time to you as opposed to other people for a while, then so be it."
I smiled at his last sentance and I reached out to take his hand. We fell silent again, and then I spoke up, "How did you know I was there?"
"I didn't, at first," He admitted, not taking his eyes from the road. "I called your phone and you didn't answer, and then I called him."
I didn't really know what to say. "Why did you care?" I asked quietly. "You left me."
"I made a mistake. We all do, sometimes. I realized that it was a mistake and then I tried to find you."

"What made you think something like that?" I inquired with a frown. He looked over at me, shaking his head.

"I don't really want to talk about it, alright?"
"Alright. By the way, how long was I out?"
"Two days or so."
"Two days?" I cried.

"That's what I said."
"Jesus! I didn't know it was that bad of a wound!"
He gave me a small frown. "Ivory, your throat was cut. You almost died. That's a pretty bad wound, in my book."
"I need to get back to the camp, though-I need to train, I still have so much to learn..."
He laughed gently. "Ivory. We have time."
"Easy for you to say. You're immortal."
"That is true. Well, you have time still. It's not as if the army is breaking down your doors."
"No, they're buring my locks and kidnapping me, then slicing my throat behind Daimon clubs," I retorted. He growled low in his throat.

"I thought we killed that son of a bitch."
"So did I. We thought wrong, Lucy."
He eventually parked the car beside his home, letting go of his grip on my hand. I ran up the stairs behind him through the tall snow, stumbling over my feet a bit and feeling slightly dizzy. The buzz from my drinking was gone, and I hoped I wouldn't have a hangover from hell tomorrow.
"If you do, it's all Zarek's fault," Spawn muttered, searching for his keys. I rolled my eyes.

"No, if I do, it's because I asked for asprin and got something a little stronger instead."
"I think you should go in and go to sleep. You can sleep off the hangover and the fatal wound in your neck."
"Hey, it's not fatal anymore, and I told you, I'm not hungover."
I tried to think about what Zarek and I had been talking about while I was a bit intoxicated. I vaguely remembered talking about Acheron, and my crush, and...

...Oh. God. I needed to stop thinking about that, or-
I froze and then saw Spawn standing in the doorway, the door open and the lights in the foyer lit dimly as to not hurt his eyes. As it was, I had to almost squint with my stupid human eyes to see his features. He was smirking.
"Who is it?" He smiled.
"Who is what?" I inquired innocently. He smiled, taking me by the hand to pull me inside the house. I let go of his hand soon after, feeling my headache throbbing in my ears.

"Your crush," He laughed, "You know, that sort of makes you sound a bit immature. Saying it like that."
"Oh, who cares." I yawned, rubbing my hands over my eyes. "And I'm not going to tell you." I fell silent for a minute or so. "Hey, Spawn?" I asked quietly.

He looked up. "What?"
"Why did you have a female Squire?" I was still a little confused on the subject. I mean, I knew how Zarek got his female Squire, but I was a little confused. "Aren't they supposed to be a gender other than the one that the Dark-Hunter is attracted to...?"
He laughed quietly, sitting down on one of the leather couches in the living room. I accompanied him and sat on the edge of said couch, sort of worried about what he might say next.
"I didn't really explain that situation well enough. Georgia was not really a Squire- but I wasn't given the choice of one like most Dark-Hunters were. She was just like Sharon is to Zarek- A human, someone to talk to and to run errands for me during daylight, someone who couldn't know anything about me but that I was independantly wealthy and was willing to help her and her family." He smiled faintly, and then I nodded.

"And were you ever..." I couldn't say it, so I thought it instead. He shook his head.

"No. I wouldn't have wanted to deal with the complications of something like that."
"And you're sure she wasn't Appolite, or something that could have been turned into a freaky zombie thing?"
He nodded. "I would have known."
"Then I wonder why..." I trailed off, looking away, out the window into the distance.

"You wonder why what?"
"I wonder why Nikitas was fine drinking my blood."
"You let him drink your blood?" His voice was sharp.
"Yes."
"Jesus Christ, Ivy, if he had actually been an Appolite, doing that could have killed him!" He sounded angry, and I felt my eyes go wide.

"It could have?"

"Yes, it could have!"
"Oh...I didn't know..."
"How could you not know something like that?" He raised his hands, giving me an irritated look. "You're a Squire!"
"Hey, I''m not the one with the copy of the handbook, buddy, and I'm in no place to know about the interworkings of Daimons. I haven't even been a Squire for that long."
"How long have you been a Squire?" He snapped. I glared at him.

"Almost two years."
"Two years- That's pleanty of time to learn about what we're supposed to be fighting!" I stood up, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

"I know how to fight them. I don't go around learning about their culture. What difference would my blood make, anyways?"
"You're a goddess, aren't you?"

"I suppose so. I mean, my mom is an Atlantean goddess- not my real mother, my mother from a past life- and I suppose I might have retained some of her powers. But in this body, I bleed blood, not ichor."
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if ichor would kill him, but all I know is that feeding from a Daimon before you were 27 would automatically turn you. I don't know if the same would go for humans, especially ones with such ties to the Gods such as you."
"I'm not the one tied to them, buddy, that's Ebony. And none of this makes a difference." I wasn't going to let him see me cry, not now. "He's still dead."
Spawn sighed, stading up and taking me into his arms. "Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm alright. Not upset. I was just stating a fact. He is dead."
"I know, but we don't need to talk about it."
"How else am I going to get over what happened to him?"

"You could talk about something else and ignore the pain."
"Spoken like a true man," I said, rolling my eyes. He laughed, sitting back down, and I sat on the other side of the couch. He pulled me close again and my head rested on his chest.

"Ivory?" He asked quietly. I looked up at him, and he brushed my hair back from my eyes again, running a hand down my cheek to my chin. "You said you've been a Squire for two years- how old are you, anyway?"
I sighed. "Twenty one. Almost twenty two. I've told people diferent things, but I know for a fact I'm almost twenty two."
"Why do you tell people other things?" He seemed a bit confused, and I smiled.

"Well, I don't like telling everyone in the world everything about me. If I lie about some things to some poeple some times, I don't think I'll go to hell over it."
"So why are you telling me?"
I shrugged. "I have the feeling you wouldn't try to hurt me or use me. I try to stay honest with those kinds of people. Zarek, Sharon, Jen, so on and so forth. Every so often, though, I'll get a bad feeling about someone and lie about myself to them. Especially about my age when I think that they'll try to hit on me or ask me out." I smiled. "When I was younger, like sixteen, my older brother and I were in Miami and these morons kept hitting on me and being assholes. When we ran into them at a stoplight and they started again, I burst into fake tears and my brother yelled at them for scaring his eleven year old daughter."
"Did you actually look eleven?" He asked, laughing.
"No, and that's what made it so funny. The looks on their faces was priceless." I paused. "And on the subject of lying to people I could never trust, my mom used to tell me to do the same. If someone made me nervous or seemed suspicious to me, and tried to talk to me, I was to give them a completely factual name, age, everything."
"Why would she make you do something like that?" He inquired.

"Well, I never really understood it, but I think I know why now. My sister seems to know everyone-Iccarius, that doctor who tried to kill me, and I think she might even know Stryker. I know she has connections, and I have the feeling she wouldn't hessitate to sacrifice me or anyone else in my family to get what she wants. I think I was safer as a little girl when she had no clue where I was and anyone she sent after me was given a false story and quickly disposed of."

"So you sort of lived in what could be described as a warped witness protection where everyone who asked about you was given a different story?"
"Yes. I hadn't really realized it until I think about it now, but that is the reason lies are hard wired in my brain. I just thought my mom lied about me and my sisters to every one because she was weird."
"But now you know it's because you were being tracked by an army of the undead led by your vengeful twin sister?"
"Yes."
"Why does she want to kill you, anyway?" He asked. "What are her motives?"
"I think it might have to do with releasing out mother and ruling over the post apocolyptic earth with my ex at her side. But that's just a guess."
"Oh." He held me tightly. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"

"That you were hunted mercilessly by your evil twin and you didn't even know it at the time and that you had a sick, warped lie for a childhood."
"Hey, my life wasn't all that bad," I smiled. "I had some good times, too, and not all of it was a lie. Only what people outside of the family and outside of a small circle of friends knew about my age, name, and life."

"I would have felt so alone."
"I would have, too, if I hadn't had my siiblings and my parents and close friends. Besides, I wasn't exactly a social butterfly as a child. I kept to myself and read." I smiled.

"No, I don't see you as being a 'social butterly' either." He laughed. "But to have a childhood with so many lies- it must have been terrible." I shrugged.

"It was only terrible when I found out why I was lied about and what was at risk if they didn't lie about me. When I found out my life was in danger over it, then it was bad. Like I said, I just thought my mom was weird. When I was really little, I thought it was like a game of pretend. I hated not using my name though. I found it was a blessing when I got older." I laughed.

"Why?"
"I hate my name."
"What's wrong with 'Ivory'?" He inquired. "It's pretty."
"Thank you, but that's not all." I sighed, actually struggling to remember the name that my parents had given me in a moment of pure cruelty. " Ivory Emerald Scarlet Violet Verde Sunlight Saint-John."
He gaped at me and then laughed quietly. "If your parents wanted you to blend in so badly, why did they give you such an ostentacious name?"
"Like I said- no one outside of the family ever heard it, except for my dad's Dark-Hunters and most of the Squires. I didn't even tell it to people at school. They called me Rainbow-Kid when I was little." I shuddered, and then I glared at the ground. "I hate my name. So much."
"I think it's nice," He said, and I looked up to see him smiling, apparently not lying. "It doesn't suit you, no, but it's nice."
"My parents said someone with such a history deserved happiness and color in her life." I glared back at the ground again. "I didn't understand it then, but once again, I can understand it now."
"What about your siblings?" He asked. "Were they lied about, too?"

"I'm not sure about my brothers, but once when my mother, younger sister and I were out shopping, someone asked my mother about us. She just smiled and then told him that we were her brother's twin daughters, Bryn and Jessica. A few days after that, she sent my sister to live with family in Virginia, and I haven't seen her since. We talk on the phone sometimes, but not often." I frowned, thinking. "Come to think of it, that was only a few weeks before our house burned down and we had to leave the state."

"And I'm guessing Ebony had something to do with it?" I shrugged.

"Probably."

"I'll stop her," He told me. "Before she hurts you again. I promise I'll stop her."
"That's a nice thought," I murmured, "But I want to take her down myself to make her pay for what she's put me through these past few days, and what she's put me through my whole life."
"I'll help you."
"Just keep her army from killing me before I can finish the job. That's all the help I need." I closed my eyes, and then before I could speak again I had fallen into a deem sleep, curled up against him and feeling very safe indeed.

Spawn watched her sleep, barely daring to breathe because it might disturb her slumber. One of his arms was draped over her stomach and her breath was cool on his skin. She pressed her cheek into his throat as she murmured something in her sleep.

Okay, so disrupting her sleep wasn't the only reason he was finding it hard to breathe. He sort of couldn't, at this point. He just couldn't believe she was really here.

Hours ago he'd been told she was going to die, and now...

She was here again. In his arms again.

Jesus, call it a Hallmark moment, but it was too good to be true. Nothing had ever been this peaceful for him.

How he hated to have to interrupt it, but he had to. With a sigh of irritation, he leaned down to kiss her hair before he gently rolled her off of him, onto the couch. Spawn looked back at her for a second, at her peaceful, sleepy smile and the delicate hand that lay on the couch by her face.

And he saw the large bandage that was bulky against her small throat, a constant reminder about his mistakes.

He turned away, toward the garage where most of his weapons were. He had about eight hours until daylight.
He was going to find the man who had did that to her, and by the Gods, he was going to make that coward pay.