"I have to go to the Clan," Rose explained softly. They were standing on the front step of Jake's house; the very step she had so carefully arranged Lao Shi's body just a few days before. "They're having a little crisis. I should be back around midnight, maybe a little after. Are you going to be okay?"

Jake nodded. "Just make sure you come back," he begged, hugging her waist.

"I'm always going to come back," Rose replied, wrapping her arms around him as well. Heart thudding in her chest, she told him, "I love you, Jake."

She rarely told him this first, at least not anymore. If he had noticed that he usually had to prompt the words from her, he hadn't said anything about it. And with everything else going on his life right now, Rose doubted that he would mention it in the little time he had left to.

"I love you too, Rose." He whispered to the top of her head. And then he leaned, tilting her head up with a finger placed on her chin.

He pressed his lips to hers and it was so sweet that Rose literally thought she would melt into him. They'd had much more passionate kisses but there was something about the movement of his lips, the gentleness of the night air, and the protective way he held her; in a way that was full of need.

Yet again, Rose could see how she had let herself get carried away by this man before. She could see why she had fallen for him because she thought that she might be doing it again. She was clinging desperately to her mission, making it all that she was in this moment, because she knew that if she let it slip, just once, then she would never recover.

There was something in the way that the American Dragon was kissing her. There was something in the way that the American Dragon was holding her; in the way he was making her heart beat uncontrollably; in he had made her limbs go shaky; in the way he had made her think, for one instant, that she could honestly be in love with him.

Rose knew that love wasn't for girls like her – Huntsgirls; Huntsmistresses. It never could be and it never would be. Even if it was, even if there was even the slightest possibility for it, it wouldn't come from the American Dragon.

So why was it, that when she left Jake's side, all she could think about was getting back to him? Why was it that she wanted to kiss him again and that she never wanted it to end that time? Why was it that, when she thought about tomorrow and the funeral, there was a huge pit of anxiety and dread in her stomach, bigger than the usual little feelings that invaded her?

She didn't want to think about it. She couldn't afford to think about it. Even if she did think about, there was no going back now.

And besides, he was just a dragon.

He was the enemy.

At least, this is what Rose told herself as she entered Master's lair. As she'd been instructed, she went straight to Master's personal quarters. He was waiting for her. The moment she walked through his door, he had grabbed her roughly around the waist. He threw her onto his bed. The mattress gave under her weight.

"Be loud," he said into her ear, as he pushed her pants away from her and climbed on top of her.

She forced herself to moan as he began to move within her. Master didn't usually like her to be loud and it felt unnatural to be while he was there. But she did as he was instructed because, underneath of her noise, Master had something important to tell her; something that he couldn't risk the Dark Dragon hearing.

"The Dark Dragon," Master informed her, "has to die tonight. He thinks he is taking part in the funeral raid tomorrow – that is why he is resting early. We must kill him, once he is the deepest part of sleep. Tell me, what is a dragon's sleep cycle like?"

"Four hours after he goes to sleep," Rose panted.

"That's another hour and a half to wait," Master answered. He leered down at her, getting around to taking her shirt off. "Luckily, we have something to entertain ourselves with."

Rose nodded, though this wasn't what she thought of as entertainment. The rough way Master handled her sometimes made her wince. She'd handled far worse pain than anything he had inflicted on her, of course, but she didn't like how he was so possessive of her when he held her. It was like he wasn't even holding a person in his hands but, rather, a possession. It was as though she was an object, his object, and she wasn't even worthy of being looked at as anything else.

She resented this fact. She was the Huntsmistress; the Clan was hers. The only thing that she thought truly mattered to him belonged to her. The world was under her control and he should be treating her like the powerful being that she knew she was.

The question that had to be asked, then was: why did she let him treat her like this when she could easily defeat him? She knew that she was strong enough to crush him like a bug and she knew that she would get away with it.

The only possible answer: because he was Master and she truly was his.

Before she could contemplate that it was time to go get the Dark Dragon. Master didn't, necessarily, need her for this but it was good to have backup in case something did go wrong. Rose felt her belt for her staff but didn't draw it; it would only draw attention of she were to reveal it now. They crept forward to the Dark Dragon's quarters.

With soft steps, Rose rounded to the back of the room. If anything were to go wrong while the Master went for the Dark Dragon's ear, Rose was to pounce on the creature and take him down before any harm was to come to Theron. She waited patiently at her post as Master squeaked forward. The entire time she watched him with her superior eyesight, critiquing his every move. It was beyond obvious that he had been out of action for a very long time.

She was waiting for him to make a mistake. She tensed, waiting for the moment.

She was right.

Master's shoe scuffed on the floor and, immediately, the Dark Dragon was awake. His massive maw opened, fire curling forward as he puffed up. His spine arched, his wings spread, as he attempted to make himself as big of a target as possible. He swung forward with his claws and Rose heard a dull thump that was Master hitting a wall.

She launched herself forward. The Dark Dragon swung his tail and, by a stroke of luck, managed to catch her in the midsection. Rose went with the momentum, hitting the ground as gracefully as she could. She popped back up a moment later, yanking her staff out of her belt. She swung it around threateningly. The dragon roared and aimed a burst of fire at her. The heat scalded her left side but Rose took no notice of it. She leapt again, higher than before; her head nearly brushed the ceiling. She was higher than the dragon anticipated and, thus, all of his attempts to hit her missed wildly.

She brought the staff down on his left ear. He collapsed lifeless, immediately.

"Huntsgirl," Master exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she answered shortly. "But I have appearances to keep up. I must leave. I will see you tomorrow at the funeral. Make sure that you are in place by seven-thirty."

The Master sniffed. "It is not your place to give me orders, Huntsgirl," he sneered.

"I'm just telling you what you need to know," Rose answered sweetly, though feeling chastised. "Take it how you will."

With that, she left him behind.

(-.-)

Kyle took a risk. He needed to get back to the bunker as quickly as possible (it was getting dark out and he felt increasingly nervous in the night hours; he felt as though the Huntsmistress was lurking in every shadowed corner, waiting to kill him) and he cut through Central Park to do it. He felt exposed in the park but it was the quickest way he could think of. Rushing across the width of the park, he was stopped by someone shouting his name.

"Why, it's Mister Kyle!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, knowing that this was no enemy. This was one of the leprechauns. They always, without fail called him 'Mister Kyle' as opposed to the title 'Huntsboy Kyle' which everyone else appeared to use. The leprechauns had always been one of the most accepting magical creatures and had never treated any of the Clan with any less than respect, despite all the atrocities the Clan had committed against them in the past.

"Good evening," Kyle greeted the little man. At once he recognized this opportunity for information; the magical creatures may unwittingly know something of Rose's plans, something that only Kyle would recognize. "How are you?"

"Saddened," the leprechaun revealed. "Greatly saddened, my lad."

"Is it about Lao Shi?"

"Yes," the leprechaun sighed. "We bury him tomorrow."

"I know," Kyle said, casually. "I was actually hoping to get your opinion on something."

"From me? Anything I can do to help."

"Jake and Fu both said that it was all right if some Clan members, those of us who knew Lao Shi, came to the funeral. But I don't want to be disrespectful toward magical creatures if they would be uncomfortable having us there. What do you think?"

"I think it would be an honour to have you there. I think he would feel honoured to know that a legacy of peace will live on. The Clan has changed its ways. I, myself, am certain of this. I know other creatures are less wary but hiding from them will not solve any problems. Come, lad, and pay your respects. He would have wanted you there."

"Thank you. I was hoping you would say that." Kyle did his best to smile. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," the leprechaun confirmed. "Seven p.m."

"And, uh, sorry, where is it again? I know the Huntsmistress told me but it's just slipped my mind."

"Oh, well, it's here, silly! The leprechauns have the ability to hide entire sections of Central Park from ordinary humans!"

"Right! See you here tomorrow night!"

Tucking the knowledge close to him, Kyle raced back to the bunker. He darted through the streets, driven both by fear and his desire to the share this information with Nicholas. Finally, he burst into the bunker.

"I have news!" he announced.

Nicholas held out his hands.

"Sorry I took longer than expected but the McDonald's isn't going to be that cold. Calm down will you? I have something important to say!"

Nicholas gave him a look that clearly read: when have you ever had something important to say?

"I think Rose is going to launch an attack tomorrow on the magical community. I am completely certain she's gotten the rest of the Clan to back her on it. We've been suspecting that genocide is coming and I think it starts tomorrow at Lao Shi's funeral."

Supper completely forgotten, Nicholas stared at Kyle.

"I don't know what we're going to do Nic, honestly I don't. We can't get close to Jake, no one else in the magical community would believe us and –"

Nicholas held up a finger.

"What? Is there someone who would believe us? Not only that but they would need to be able to help."

Nicholas made a wing motion with his hands and then held up four fingers.

"Four flying things? What I don't –" and then Kyle's face changed. "Oh, okay. But, one question. How do you propose we get in contact with the Dragon Council?"

I don't own anything recognizable.

~TLL~