Hello! I have to make a note about the last chapter: yes, Lowen's wings and ears were still out, just as they are in this chapter. I just didn't write it in because...I totally was off in my own thought cloud and just forgot to mention it. I knew it in my own mind, so I guess it just slipped my mind to write it in... so sorry! And as to why they're all still out and why she doesn't retract them? Her wings are hurt, so until they heal, she can't hide them in her body. Besides, if they haven't healed, it could spread the infection to the rest of her body and just never end up healing. That's my explanation.

Please Enjoy Chapter 9! SOOPA' LONG!

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The dark-eyed thief and the curious, still damp Gryphon sat opposite of each other on matching dingy couch-chairs, Lowen thirsty for news from her fellow mutant, while Gambit was thankful for a place to rest his bones, though also pleased to be in the company of a female. Lowen couldn't shake the awe and fascination of her companion's eyes; red irises on a backdrop of black, no doubt intimidating to enemies, but captivating as well. The corner of the admiree's mouth turned up in a way that showed he enjoyed the attention.

"Logan sent you? What for?" she asked, her wings giving a light flap as she tore her attention from his eyes. Gambit shrugged and pulled a deck of cards out of one of his seemingly endless amount of bottomless pockets.

"Seems 'e was worried 'bout ya' when ya' left 'im. Course, I'd be a bit worried too if I just up and left a femme at a truck stop. Though I guess he wouldn't be too worried if he saw the arm on ya' when I 'appened to walk in."

"Well, sorry, but these days I can't be too careful anymore," she said trying to joke, though a heavy sigh betrayed her. She looked up at him from under her hair and frowned just as he gave her more or less of the same look. "And how did you know where I was? Logan's a feral, but I didn't think he was psychic." Gambit let out a hardy laugh that caused her to blush for some unknown reason.

"That he ain't, but he's one 'ell of a tracker. The Wolverine may be gifted with a sixth sense or whatnot, but I happen to be gifted with the gift of getting information."

"So, you're a thief?" she offered, more of an observation than a question. Gambit shook his and clicked his tongue.

"Maybe I am a bit of a, ahh.. 'borrower', but I am very skilled in my... 'negotiations'." Something about his demeanor and tone tipped her off to an idea about what kind of man he might be.

"Did you have to sleep with someone?"

"In short, I'm after ya' because I owed Logan a favor," he explained, completely avoiding her previous question. "He said he felt that you were in danger, but I see that you're pretty well off," he shrugged again and began to rise from his seat.

"W-wait! I, umm... that, that's where you might be wrong," she said quickly, her sentence steadily declining into a mumble. Gambit cocked his head a bit and gave her a strange look.

"Oh?" he mused as he made a move to sit back down. Lowen fidgeted, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Ahh, um.. it's.. it's..." She gave her confident a pitiful, helpless look, his figure leaning carefully forward toward her, as if his mere closeness would coax out the words. "I'm... I'm in trouble!" she blurted out.

"Yes, that much I got, cheri. But Gambit cannot help if he doesn't know what is wrong."

Lowen felt like panicking. She wanted to scream out that she was being held captive by a demon-mutant, Azazel, and being forced to... to... what was she being forced to do? Her mind went completely blank. Azazel was looking for angels, and she had proved to him that she certainly was no angel, but he had taken her, sheltered her, kept her safe... was she really being held captive? Or had he been protecting her? These new thoughts started to infuriate their owner, who wanted nothing more than for everything to be black and white: He had taken her, she was being held against her will, and now, a good guy (well, maybe..) was here to rescue her! So what was with all the doubt now? Had he brainwashed her? Was this a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome? Oh dear God, things were a lot nicer when she didn't think.

"Femme? What's wrong?" Gambit's voice broke into her inner monolog, his tone edged with concern.

"M-my powers," she finally sputtered. "They're... they're all haywire." She stared at Gambit staring at her; waiting for more of an exclamation, maybe? Or maybe he thought she was completely batshit crazy.

"I, I just feel like my powers have turned against me.. I, I think something might be wrong with me." Gambit gave her a curt nod that she assumed was supposed to be reassuring.

"Ooooh, I see. An empath, right? Logan filled me in a bit. Well, listen, femme, I don't know much 'bout how everything works, but I work at the school, too, so I have some first-hand experience with what I think might be goin' on with ya'."

"Please enlighten me," Lowen croaked, suddenly feeling very frail and weak. Gambit's faced showed his pity as he leaned to pat her leg, but she jerked away from his touch at the very last second. He gave her a questioning look and blinked at her.

"I-I'm so sorry! But, that... touching... seems to trigger it," she said feebly. Gambit smiled again, letting relief wash back over her knowing that he wasn't angry or offended at her action.

"I guess that rules out fooling around with men for a while, eh?" he laughed. He might as well have stripped naked and done the chicken dance and Lowen couldn't have been more shocked. The best she could do was blink stupidly and try to convince her jaw to close again.

"Fact is, femme, everyone has a maximum potential for power, which is how mutant classes are divided up," he began to explain. Lowen wondered meekly if another part of Gambit's ability was being able to ignore the weird shit he kept saying. "Class 1 mutants don't have any potential for destructive power, the best they could do is maybe.. I dunno, light up a room using their body. Now, Class 5 mutants, on the other hand, are capable of total destruction. Ahh.. 'dis guy Magneto, for example, could manipulate metal. Any metal, you name it, he could twist it, move it, mold it... hell, 'dis guy could even mess with de' iron content in your blood! Scary stuff, capable of beacoup damage."

"So, what are you getting at here?" Lowen interrupted, trying not to sound rude but wanting to get to the point. Gambit raised a finger and an eyebrow at her.

"'Dis, cheri: powers can grow more over time. You might awaken abilities in situations you're not used to, which cause a hidden side of your mutation to come out. We see it happen a lot at da' school, especially since kids don't know what they're really capable of, since a lot of them have hidden their abilities away until they came to the school and were encouraged to use them." He stopped and stroked his stubble thoughtfully for a moment. "But ya' know," he said slowly. "The most drastic changes and advances in powers that I've seen is when kids hit puberty. There's somethin' there that just kind of... blossoms out, all crazy-like."

"Yeah, thanks, but I hit puberty a while ago," she smirked, barely suppressing a snort. "But it's all something to think about, definitely," she added, hoping she would cut off another one of his awkward replies. He nodded seriously and rose from his seat.

"Anyt'ing to help. Ya' know, you could come to the school, femme..."

"Nope. Sorry, but Logan and I already talked about this," she said with a shake of her hair, and a flick of her tail. He smiled kindly at her.

"Of course, cheri, but you know the offer's always open," he said striding to the door. Lowen felt as if she wanted to say more, but she opened her mouth and nothing wanted to come out, so she clamped her jaw shut and watched as her only lifeline to the outside world moved closer and closer to leaving. She saw him hesitate, his hand on the doorknob.

"You know," he said so quietly she had to lean forward to focus on his words. "One of da' former students once said that it wasn't what he was, but what he might be capable of that scared him." A quiet stretched between them as she realized that the rain had stopped. Gambit shook his head and gave her one last look.

"Just be careful, yeah? And if you need me... us... you know where we are." And with a wink he was gone and the door was closed once more. Lowen wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"What did you do?"

Lowen almost jumped through the wall at the sudden baritone voice, but instead made a clumsy, half-awake leap from the bed, but got tangled in the blankets and crashed to the floor. Her fuzzy mind could barely comprehend any competent thought as she blinked sleepily up at the one name that was the only coherent scrap of anything in her mind at the moment.

"Azazel," she said quietly, quickly gathering her thoughts. How long had she been out?

"Not a half hour ago, that man left here. What did you do?"

Ah, so she had only dozed for a little while. OH SHIT, was her next coherent thought, and she was back to fumbling under the intimidating demeanor of her captor. Or was he not really her captor anymore? Hadn't she come to that conclusion in her mind earlier?

"He's a friend!" she blurted quickly. "He was just here because Logan was worried about me! He's a friend! I just... just..." she trailed off under his intense stare, his arms were crossed, his face unreadable. She was suddenly horrified.

"Oh, God, what have you done to him?" she almost whispered.

"Nothing. But I must know, what did you do?"

"With him? We just talked! I didn't tell him a thing about you!" She stopped, a bit startled at herself. Why hadn't she told him about Azazel? She turned back to his cold, blue eyes and saw him squint, a noise like a grunt then caught itself in his throat as he silently turned and walked away out of the tiny room. Lowen felt her body float up off the floor with a will that wasn't her own, and, with the blanket hugged tight around her body, she felt mystified and mysteriously inclined to follow.

"Do you not believe me?" she pressed, catching up to him rummaging through a large bag that was not previously there before set on the table. Her question was met with silence as he continued his work. What had she expected? She inhaled slowly and exhaled an even slower sigh through her nose as she continued to watch, then turned to go back to her room.

"Did you and him make love?"

Cue tripping over the blanket and falling on her face in the hallway.

"WHAT?" She didn't mean for it come out as a scream, but it reflected her inner thought volume, that's for sure. He didn't look up from the bags but only kept rummaging.

"That man. Did you two-"

"NO!" she half gasped, cutting him off before he could finish. A pair of blue eyes glanced up, and Azazel proceeded to stop what he was doing and stood up straight, his attention focused crushingly on her. Lowen worked up the nerve to squint back at him.

"Besides," she countered. "Why would it matter if I did?" Azazel once again resumed his seemingly endless search of the bags.

"Would you like to train?"

"Pardon?" Lowen asked, eyebrows high on her forehead. What was it with everyone she met ignoring her? She then frowned quickly. "You didn't answer my question," she chided. Did she daresay she was growing bolder in his presence?

"Your powers. You said they were... 'haywire'. I know how to deal with that kind of thing," he rumbled, still initially ignoring her. Lowen wondered if he he had been listening in on her and Gambit somewhere, but decided to just give up on any more questioning; he apparently just ignored anything he didn't want to answer, so why bother?

"I... well, I guess that couldn't make things any worse," she shrugged. She heard him grunt.

"That is naive to think. It could get very much worse." She was inclined to be offended but only took a deep breath.

"What if I just wanted to leave?" Azazel froze but didn't look up. After a moment of thought, he exhaled.

"You are free to leave, on-ghel."

"Was I always free to leave?" she pressed. Another moment passed as he stood over the table.

"Yes." With that, he slowly set a large backpack on the floor next to the table and nodded at her. One glance at the ratty bag caused a sudden cry of delight to cross her lips.

"My pack! Where did you get this?" she asked happily.

"It was not easy to track, but I have my ways," was his vague reply. Lowen decided to not even push it as she plopped down on the ground and opened every pocket and undid every drawstring to see if everything was still there. It was damp and smelled like a gross old sock, but then again she knew that she probably smelled the same way before she showered and cleaned herself up. As far as she could tell, everything was still there.

"Did you touch anything?" she inquired.

"Nyet. I did not even open anything when I collected it."

Lowen scoffed. Collected, of course. Who knows who he killed to get this, she thought, searching the last and smallest pocket. Yep, toothbrush, nail clippers, and bobby pins still there, but something hard and foreign met her fingertips. She scrunched up her forehead and, reaching in to fish it out, she pulled up a long, thin leather cord, and following it was a gleaming ivory tooth. She almost stopped breathing and held it close to her face. Spooky's necklace. The rush of emotions almost overtook her, thoughts of her friend fading in and out throughout her head. His most precious possession had been slipped into her bag by none other than Spooky himself. The heartbreak she felt now must have been nothing compared to his when she left. She blinked back the pooling tears, feeling the smooth, cool edges of the tooth, which he claimed to be from a shark he had found washed up on a beach. She then tied the worn leather around her neck, now feeling stronger with a symbol and living memory of her friend. She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer to the divines, and then turned back to her pack.

For a moment, she was thrilled at the return of her long lost items and touched by the discovery of her friend's necklace, but her excitement faded as she realized that by returning all of this, he was giving her a choice: to stay or to be on her way. Freedom was just a door frame away, and the decision was entirely hers.

Her sitting and him standing, the two stood in the wake of a silent choice. Lowen looked up at Azazel, but he only planted his palms on the scratched surface of the counter and continued to gaze down at seemingly nothing. Something inside her reached out to him, wanting to get close to this demon-man all of the sudden. Lowen gave a sideways glance to the door, then stood up and only looked towards her feet as she ground her toe into the dirty carpet and fingered the tooth that now rested above her chest.

"What kind of training?" she asked quietly

"You will find out when we start tonight," he answered, his voice suddenly normal, causing her to realize the odd sensation it had possessed before. "Be ready."

"Of course," she managed to mumble, not sure why she was doing any of this.

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The demon and the Gryphon faced each other across the space of a clearing in the birds seemed as if they were all sleeping, but the frogs took this as their time to shine, and sang out across the darkness from a source Lowen couldn't even begin to identify. The clouds in the black sky barely allowed the moon and stars to light up the space, giving only the eerie passing of translucent beams of silver and blue to illuminate anything. Only a faint wind stirred the silent trees, casting strange shadows on the plain below. It wasn't at all warm, but it wasn't too cold, either, though Lowen could feel herself shiver, be it from weather or anticipation or... something else.

"These clothes are a little... tight," she chided to her trainer, tugging at the waistband she knew wouldn't give to the amount of space she desired no matter how hard she tried.

"They are fine," he replied, doing a quick survey of his surroundings.

The black cotton shirt she wore was baggy on her, not so much that she was swimming in it, so that she could handle, but the pants... those damn pants.. Azazel had given her "appropriate attire" to work in, but... although he said that they would fit, he was only half right. The way he had seen them from the front, they only looked like they long around her ankles, so she had tied them up with hair ties. No biggie, but she was NOT about to turn around to argue that the butt was WAY tight on her. Imagine her discomfort as she faked a smile as he walked away then tried her best to walk without the back riding up. Her worst enemy thus far: wedgies. She secretly wondered if his own butt was super-toned or if hers was just massive. Then she realized how weird of a thought that was and pushed it quickly from her mind, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to do this in the daylight?" she called out.

"Nyet," he called back, Lowen assuming that he said "no" in whatever language he kept speaking. "Darkness heightens the senses and weeds out other distractions. Plus, if the need arises, the night will hide us. Now, find me." Lowen jumped at the unusual sound of Azazel's "bamf" as he disappeared in a puff of red smoke. She twisted her neck in all directions but made no move. Well, at least the night would conceal how small those stupid pants were...

"And, ah, how am I supposed to find you?" she called out to the dark. "I don't have some crazy power that lets me see in the dark or sniff you out or something!"

"Feel me," came the sudden husky voice breathing in her ear. She let out a shriek that would have awaken Satan himself, but with another "bamf" and the smell of burning metal, he was gone was once more.

Feel him... right, she thought, still shaking from the scare, her wings fluttering in an action equivalent to a frown. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bringing herself to unlock the gate she had put on her powers for the sake of trying to control them.

Nothing.

"This isn't working!" she yelled out again. "I think I'm broken or something!" Azazel materialized in front of her again, ever patient with his frustrating student.

"You have do stop doing that! It's... unnerving." He ignored that and walked up to her, forked tail twitching behind him.

"Then we will start slow. Sit," he ordered. For once, Lowen complied without grudge or complaint and the two sat cross-legged facing each other. For once, Lowen didn't mind being close to him. Any discomfort seemed far away as she stared into his face, eagerly awaiting instructions.

"Relax yourself, on-ghel. I am going to start to think of something. When I do, I will make emotion very strong. You will tell me what it is." Lowen nodded. That seemed very slow and careful. "Okay. Feel my mind," he instructed.

Lowen closed her eyes again and cleared her mind. The gentle hiss of the wind, the trilling of frogs, and the feel of grass and earth underneath her all faded as she focused her breathing. She did not feel afraid, even when the first pang hit her mind, a second following close behind.

"The pain is starting," she whispered, eyes still behind their lids.

"Go even slower and ease it out," he whispered just as quietly, his face very close to hers. Goose bumps prickled their way across her entire body, but she still did not yield. She opened her mind carefully, anticipating nothing so as not to distract herself from what may or may not happen.

A corner of light seemed to appear from a crevice in her brain, so she swam toward it, though little pin pricks followed the sensation of her goose bumps, almost as if everything was beginning falling asleep. Yet, there was no violent takeover or stabbing pain anywhere in her mind. Another breath to relax herself further, and she reached the light.

Orange and blue swirled together, the smell of wind on a mountain, a wolf on the edge of a hill, rain on a roof...

"Pride, contentment," she droned. "You're proud."

"Correct," he affirmed. Oh my gosh, I did it! she thought, bewildered. Her eyes popped open to study her trainer, whose eyes were still closed. A strange sensation crept into her bones

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. Azazel lifted his chin higher, his eyes still closed.

"The first time I used my weapons to aid me. I had killed a rabbit for a meal. I remember I was so hungry, I leapt after it with a knife and tracked it until I had it cornered. I have never since tasted a meal so fine... Now what am I feeling?"

Lowen closed her eyes again and searched through her mind, synapses buzzing and snapping, the field of her mind humming with the sound reawakening and rediscovery. She scrunched her face up and waited as the pain faded away slowly, oh so slowly, and she dove into another fissure of her power.

Blue, white... the gentle caress of water, smells of salt and grass, an otter on the rocks...

"Calm, satisfaction... could that be... happiness?" For the first time since they met, she heard him chuckle, and it sent chills of wonder down her back.

"The first time I had seen such an expanse of water... the Dead Sea. It was a long journey, but I made it, and it was such a wondrous sight. I floated on the top of the water for hours until the sun went down... Try again."

Green, red, and smoky gray, the heavy scent of marigolds and incense, a gazelle under a starry sky...

"Anticipation, need, excitement..." Lowen was stumped for a quick minute. "Holy shit, is that lust?" Lowen felt her entire face grow hot and knew that she was probably looked as red as Azazel. This time, he bellowed out a full laugh, something that was so terrifying and wonderful that it turned Lowen's chill into a full-body quiver. But it was so pleasant that she didn't mind in the least. That deep laugh captivated her so much that didn't even care that she had lost the concentration she had worked so hard to gain.

"A dancer, I remember, dressed in scraps of purple that showed her skin like moonlight through a shallow pond. I stayed in the shadows, drug in by my need for drink, but I could not take my eyes off her. It was so crowded that night, men packed from wall to wall, but out of so many, she chose me. I shall never forget that night," he nearly purred.

Green eyes stared, nearly dumbfounded. She finally figured it out, and it hit her like a wave falling down on her and sweeping her away: he was human. It was as if she had finally stepped back and saw the entire picture, not just shades of crimson and hues of red. She and him... they weren't that different. He had a whole lifetime of experiences behind him, just as she did, and somehow, she was too blinded by her hate and misunderstanding so much that she never got know who he was, and he was someone who was kind of like her- not the soulless, emotionless devil she had bitterly claimed in her mind. Through the dark, a single bird called out, as if those notes were redemption in the guise of song.

Azazel stood up out of the dirt and brushed himself off, and Lowen looked up, seeing him now in a new light, broken open in the span of minutes.

"Now you have a sense of how your powers manifest. It is time for the hunt. Your wings are doing very much better," he nodded approvingly. "Though," he said stepping toward her, causing Lowen to feel her heart lurch forward in her chest. "I will miss this," he said, putting a calloused hand softly on her downy ears. Now less of a lurch, her heart was shooting around her chest like a bottle rocket. "I find mutations in their true form so very... beautiful," came his hoarse whisper. She closed her eyes slowly and waited.

BAMF!

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the noxious smell invaded her nostrils, leaving behind for her but a sneeze as Azazel disappeared.

"Find me!" came his voice from somewhere in the trees, only this time, Lowen was ready.

Muscles in her legs suddenly became a force like steel, her eyesight became clean and clear, ears swiveled on the crown of tangled hair, suddenly alert and listening; the Gryphon had begun to awake.

Head low, she bolted into the thick of foliage, ready to seek out her task, and she had no intention of failing. Her eyes were open and her mind reached out invisible fingers , a wave sweeping over the grass and up through the leaves, almost like a bat screeching out to find its way, but instead she had a silent, invisible force at her aid. Her ears filled with low echoes, slivers of sound emitting from emotion that no other could hear. She stood in the middle of it all and concentrated with all her might.

The low breathing of a predator, the hum of the heart, burning yellow and red, the smell of earth and the sting of ginger; she felt him. The tendrils of her psyche oozed forth, scanning the area as she waited for something to show.

There! To the right, up on a branch! She jerked her neck to look.

BAMF!

"So you can see, but can you follow?" he called out, his voice moving farther and farther away with every word. Exhilarated, Lowen snarled, eyes wide, though not all-seeing, trying to decipher directions and the best path to follow so as to not fall over debris. A single leap and she was off.

Multitasking between honing in with her powers and doing physical work was something she had never done before. Complete concentration was always the key in reading people, so she had always stood still and focused all her energy on that, but never had she been running and reading at the same time. Still, she relished the challenge and worked to the best of her given ability to make that happen. At first, all she could do was get distracted by the sound of her own pounding footsteps, her mutation fading in and out and she lost concentration several times. There needed to be some kind of formula to it, something she could latch onto with her mind but still be able to run and seek out her prey.

She stopped, panting only slightly, mind blinking like a firefly. Think... what could she do to make this happen?

"You're losing!" came an echo from the trees. "Keep moving!"

"I know! Just give me a second!" she yelled. To get rid of this goddamn wedgie, she growled to herself, cursing the stupid too-small pants and adjusting herself, praying that he wasn't close enough to see her.

"You do not have a second! Keep moving!"

Another lurch and she was off, dirt flying underfoot. Apparently, he wasn't out to make this easy, she thought with a grunt. Still, she barreled on. The breeze combine with her speed to send her feathers and fur back, her long tail giving more balance as she moved, ears almost working like radars, telling which path was blocked off, and clawed toes peeked through bandaged soles, giving more grip to gain much-needed speed. She felt some wonderful, so free and untouchable, like a beam of light, going wherever she wanted without care. She laughed out loud, the sound so wild and jarring that she felt the rush of sensation at once. Every hue melted together as time seemed to slow, with nothing to hear and feel but her own beating heart.

She was the Gryphon. She was not just a girl: she was a creature that feeds on the life of the earth, free from trivial matters of material goods, unbound from a jostled, scared society, not imprisoned by expectations or the warped want of "normality". This simplicity, this wild game; this was freedom.

All at once, it clicked. She ran, and her thoughts followed, illuminating her target and letting all else rush into each other, showing the path of where she needed to be. A faded, orange blur sprinting in the distance; determination: she had found him, and now she needed to catch up. As if she had flipped another switch in her brain, time has returned to normal, though she found her speed to be faster than what she had imagined she was capable of. Still, she pressed on, curving her path to follow her mind's eye. Tail lashing behind her, she ran, though he was so incredibly fast, she wasn't sure she would ever catch up.

He had spotted her, this she knew because she saw him cast a lightning fast glance over his shoulder and then teleported out of sight. Not even fazed, she screeched to a halt, sending pebbles and grass flying as she whirled wildly around, only losing him for a second before she regained herself and was off to pursue the fiery form through the darkness that she had glanced out of the narrow tail of her vision. How long was this going to go on? He wasn't too far off, leaping higher and high through the branched of the trees, barely giving the notion that he was being followed. His color changed from orange to purple: excitement. Could it be that he was actually enjoying this?

BAMF! Another portal he had leapt through, this time much further away, but Lowen wheeled to the side and still tracked him. Faster, faster, she ran, muscles screaming and ever sense on overdrive, though she could barely feel a thing except for her feet mercilessly smashing the ground as she sprinted forward. His color had changed once again, though she saw his form grow larger the closer she came. Had he stopped moving? Was he waiting for her? Either way, she continued on her path, fast as ever. She wasn't even sure she could stop if she wanted, though no part of her wanted this to end; running at full speed, completely lost to everyone. His outline burned purple, blue, green, and red, a curious combination of colors she'd never seen before.

Into the moonlight she crashed, now in a clearing free of trees, not able to stop herself. He was standing there, expectant and waiting, eyes steady at the sight of her form tearing through the brush straight at him. She couldn't say she felt the same calm as all her overextended senses screeched to a halt and locked back up, sending everything back to normal as their bodies collided violently together in a fury of white feathers and scarlet skin. She felt she had completely lost her head, both figuratively and literally, as everything became so suddenly still. The air had left her lungs and her vision betrayed her, looking like it would if she had been spinning around for hours and finally stopped, though it was almost the truth.

A hand was gently placed on her hair; her arms were wrapped around the soft flesh of another body, the rest of her sprawled out behind her in a post-tackle pose. She didn't mean for it to happen, but the momentum and power... all she could think in her dizziness was, Damn...

"You have done so well, on-ghel," he said, his voice appraising and unnaturally soft. She blinked up at him, a crooked smile crossing her lips, though her vision still teetered. They held each other, still both on the ground; neither had yet bothered to get up after the impact. Lowen dropped her head onto his stomach, bursting with happiness but absolutely exhausted from the effort.

"I... I did... so good..." she panted between breaths.

"That you did," he replied, stroking her hair. Her mind swam and she attempting clear the fog, wanting to comfortably give into the tiredness she felt, but she couldn't help but think one small spark of a question through exhaustion.

"That color... when I... before I... ran into you..." she fumbled, his heartbeat rumbling dully in her ear. "What... what was that?"

His hands gripped firmer on her head and shoulder, cupping her closer, pulling her up tighter against him. All her body tensed up, preparing for something to happen as she realized what dangerous ground she might be walking on. Only a warm sigh ruffled her hair, his lips and the tip of his nose now on top of her head.

"It is the same as I felt when I had asked you when we were in the motel."

"You mean... when you cornered me and... asked me... what you were feeling?" she mumbled into his chest, her arms reaching around to encircle his waist. "I have to admit... I couldn't... read you then..." His face was completely buried in her hair and crushed down her ears.

"Then I am happy to be the first you have encountered to feel such a way," he breathed into her hair, fingers caressing her scalp. Her eyelids fluttered, her mind only half-believing what was happening and her ears beginning to fail her as sleep began to take her.

"What is it you feel?" she whispered back, closing her eyes. The body of the demon felt like heaven, his breath like a song. His words came out like the pale, fluttering wings of moth.

"Love."

She didn't mean to scream so deathly loud the way she did, but she didn't even have time to think about it, so she couldn't really help it. They were no longer entwined, seeing as how she had fallen-slash-leapt backwards. She sputtered, not able to make any intelligible words, only now fully aware of her wedgie. Azazel only smiled and moved back close to her, not bothered in the least by her outbursts.

"Nothing has to be said as of now, Lowen." There. He had said her name... it felt... dare she say... wonderful. He brushed his cheek against her own for a brief second and cupped her chin in his hand, gently guiding her face to his. She just knew her eyes were the size of tennis balls. "This night was good. We should both rest," he nodded at her. That was such an anti-climatic statement in exchange for the rest of the evening, that it left Lowen with no more room for words, though she was suddenly wide awake. His eyes suddenly shifted downward.

"I never saw that before," he mused. Lowen's face felt heat equivalent to Sahara Desert, which Azazel happened to glance back upward and notice. "The necklace," he explained calmly, a look relief replacing her previous expression, though she felt utterly sheepish.

"It... it's from my friend," she said, her voice very small. Red fingers reached out and touched the smooth surface of the bone.

It happened fast: Lowen felt herself hurled backwards, screeches of agony echoed around her. She watched in horror as Azazel's fingertips turned black, smoke equally dark accompanying the discoloration. His other hand gripped his wrist, his thumb pressing deep into the palm of his injured limb, still uttering fearsome, growling cries of pain.

"Azazel!" she screamed out, running over to aid him. He quickly jumped from his knees and stood slightly hunched, eyes snapped onto hers. All she could do was freeze and stare, scared out of her wits.

"Do you know... what that is?" he gasped. Lowen was shaking.

"W-what?" she squeaked.

"That..." he replied with a rumbling growl, his eyes fairly bursting with blue flames, "...is an angelic talisman."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

I do believe this is the longest chapter thus far! Huzzah!

Sooo, Gambit's accent was awful.. I'm sorry!

I tried to make things more quicker and be less "blah blah blah" and muddy in this chapter. Maybe things have gone too fast? A part of me wanted to wait until anything happened between Lowen and Azazel, buuut I had the belief that readers were getting bored and annoyed at the tension, so, a bit out of character, I let a lot of stuff happen here and did my best to keep it going quickly. I do hope it's liked, though. I kept having the urge to make everything REALLY long and REALLY intense, but... I did my best to tone it down. But there's still so much I want to make happen before this story ends (It'll have an ending! I promise!). For example, a little more use of Azazel's tail at the request of a certain reader. :] (Err, before you get scared, it's not, like... inappropriate.. Haha!)

THOUGH, I'm not 100% sure of what I should do between the two of them... and I'm not entirely sure I could write a... ahh... more than PG-13 "love scene" between the two... but I dunno... what do you think?

Grace this chapter with a review of what's on your mind. I'd love to hear some thoughts and ideas! Thank you for reading.