Author's Note: The end is actually in sight now! I figured out how I want the case to wrap up, and it's going to happen in about... say, two more chapters. Then an epilogue, to tie it all up in a nice bright bow. For now, on with Chapter Six!

Damien had only been asleep for two hours or so when the ringing of the phone shattered the night. Groaning, he managed to get ahold of the receiver and dragged it over to his ear.

"Vryce here."

"D, you'd better get down here." Morgan's voice was tense. "Second body's been found. This is bad, D, really bad."

Damien was awake instantly, heart pounding. "Shit, I'll be right there. What's the address?"

"An alley down on the 300 block of Chestnut Street." Morgan said tersely. "The attacker didn't even bother trying to conceal the body. We've got another message, too, but I think you'd better see that for yourself."

Fifteen minutes later Damien was reigning in at the entrance to the alley in question. He knew the area well: his old apartment, where he'd stayed upon first arriving in Jaggonath, was only a block from here. The area was packed with police, yellow crime scene tape standing out starkly against the brickwork of nearby buildings. Gerald black Forest-bred horse was already tethered near the alley. Sighing, Damien slid from the saddle, tossed Jahan's reigns to a nearby rookie, and headed into the scene itself.

Gerald was examining the butchered corpse of a young woman, his face the epitome of clinical detachment. Rossi was standing nearby, looking rather green about the gills, while Reid was taking measurements and muttering to himself. Morgan was shaking his head, grimacing.

"Damn, this is an ugly one. Glad you got here fast, D - the PD wants to clear the scene as soon as possible, they don't want word to spread or we'd have a panic."

Damien nodded absently, his insides twisting as he looked down at the girl's body. She was even more viciously ravaged than the last victim, barely recognizable as human. Gerald was studying the pattern of cuts on her body when he swore abruptly.

"Hellfire. Vryce, we've got a very serious problem."

Damien groaned internally as he moved closer. "What is it?"

"These shallow cuts here, on her abdomen." Gerald gestured to the thin lines, barely visible through the blood and gore. "This is a very obscure demon-summoning sigil, traditionally used to invoke any powerful demon, but in recent years it took on special significance for one particular cult. Three guesses which supposed deity used this symbol."

Damien's stomach dropped into his feet. "Not Calesta?"

"The one and only." Gerald looked up, eyes dark. "He's well dead, Vryce, but whoever is committing these murders is trying to make a point. That explains the ritualistic aspect. The reasons for that, though..."

He gestured to the wall of the alley. Heart sinking, Damien looked up.

There, as before, were words written in dripping blood. This time, though, there was more than one.

YOU TRADED THEIR LIVES FOR HIS.

The world tilted under Damien, and he gasped involuntarily. Pieces tumbled over and clicked into place in his mind, painting a horrifying picture of hatred... and revenge.

Murderer. You traded their lives for his...

Reid was chattering on. "This pretty much rules out the possibility of the target being Lady Ciani. With a direct message like this, either the unsub has completely lost touch with reality, or they have a strong reason to believe that the target will see this message somehow."

Their lives... young women slaughtered, in the manner of the Hunter's victims. Calesta's sigil carved on the corpse. The first body left in the Fae Shoppe - the home of one of Damien's few friends and ex-lover. Accusations of trading the young women's lives for someone else's. Merciful God...

"Damien?" Gerald had straightened, and he was looking at Damien with considerable concern. "Are you alright?"

The team was staring at him now, worried. Damien swallowed hard, his voice seeming to come from far away.

"I think I might know who the target is - I just hope to God I'm wrong..."

A uniformed police officer hurried up then, pale-faced and wide-eyed. "Agents, we've just found another body. This one was left on the steps of the Great Cathedral."

Damien's last shield of denial shattered like glass. He swore and headed for his horse at a run, scarcely aware of the other agents doing the same.

The police officers were in the process of securing the scene as the agents arrived. The girl's body lay sprawled across the marble steps, blood still dripping slowly onto the step below. As Hotch shouted for officers to start a perimeter search, Damien's gaze was locked on the words scrawled across the white stone in stark crimson lines.

HOW MANY WILL DIE, SO HE CAN LIVE?

Gerald was at his side, steadying him, his face pale. "Damien, you don't think..."

"We can talk about this back at the office." Damien barely managed to get the words out, but he was hyperaware of the rest of his team standing nearby, listening avidly. "Besides, with the way this is going, I want you behind bulletproof walls now."

"Damien, it's virtually impossible for this to be directed at either of us." Gerald said quietly, his tone urgent, not caring about the eavesdropping agents. "You know damn well that nearly everyone connected with what happened is dead - who could possibly know?"

"Not here." Damien ground out, then turned to his team.

"Process the scene. I want every damn scrap of information you can give me, and I want it yesterday. Meet us back at HQ in one hour." Not waiting for them to protest, he dragged Gerald away from the gruesome tableau.

Back at the office, they were intercepted on their way across the bullpen by Garcia, who looked decidedly intrigued. "Hey, boss, there's a letter here addressed to you. Just came in about twenty minutes ago. There's no return address, though."

Damien took the envelope from her hand, feeling dread curdle in his stomach. "Thanks, Garcia. Gerald, my office."

Only after the door was safely closed behind them did Damien turn to Gerald, his eyes dark as he held up the letter. "Want to bet this is connected to the case?"

Gerald winced. "Better read it, then."

Damien sank down onto the couch, feeling sick as he slit open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. It was covered in thin, slanting, spidery writing: slightly familiar, but not enough for him to place. Damien stared in horror at the words on the page before him, which seemed to burn themselves into his mind.

It would seem, Reverend Vryce, that you've forgotten the consequences of your actions. As such, it's fallen to me to remind you.

The creature you spared is a monster who slaughtered young women at his master's whim, yet you saved his life. You had a chance to rid Erna of his wickedness forever and instead you unleashed his evil on our world again. This is your doing, Vryce - this is what happens when you let a creature like that live. Was it worth it? Was it worth four innocent lives to keep that demon for your own? Don't deny it - that's why you did it. You damned us all so he could live and sold your own soul to feed his evil. You'll pay for that, but first, you're going to see exactly what you've done.

You're a murderer, Damien Vryce. You're no better than him - and he hasn't changed. No one so heartless could ever return to humanity. He should have been hunted down like the dangerous animal he is, not protected. You failed, and you cost those women their lives. Enjoy the fruits of your labors.

For a moment, Damien felt as though he couldn't get enough air into his lungs: the room seemed to contract around him, the walls suddenly far too close. One phrase pounded through his head over and over, drumming into his mind.

Was it worth four innocent lives to keep that demon for your own?

"Damien?" It was Gerald's voice. Forcing himself to focus, Damien looked at him: the adept was gazing at him in open concern, grey eyes entirely too discerning. "What does it say?"

Unable to speak, Damien handed him the letter.

Gerald ran his eyes slowly down the page, growing paler with each line. By the time he finished, he was white as a sheet, and Damien could tell by the slight flutter of the paper that his hand was shaking. Slowly, Gerald looked up at him, grey eyes wide.

"It seems my secret's not quite as secure as I had hoped." he said softly, looking down at the paper again. "There is one good thing, though - it mentions my darker actions being committed at the behest of my 'master'. Whoever wrote this obviously believed my ruse that I was only a servant of the Forest, not its Lord."

Damien exhaled slowly and shakily, sinking back against the couch. "Yeah." he muttered, burying his face in his hands. "Great."

He heard the faint rustle of paper, then the couch next to him depressed slightly as Gerald sat down at his side. A slender hand brushed his shoulder, the elegant fingers featherlight and surprisingly tender. "We'll have to tell your team about my past - somewhat, at any rate. If we're going to solve this case, they have to know that I had ties to the Forest."

"If you think it's best." Damien's voice was a taut monotone, struggling to contain his guilt. Gerald sighed, then said softly, "Damien... you know this letter is nothing but lies, right?"

"Except it's not. Not entirely." Damien said hoarsely, lowering his arms and clenching his hands together in his lap until his knuckles turned white, not looking at Gerald. "Whoever wrote that knows me, Gerald - a bit too well."

The adept's fingers stilled on his arm, then moved to cup his chin. Gerald brought Damien's head up gently, turning him until their eyes met. Damien felt the sight take his breath away: Gerald's eyes were molten, swirling with barely repressed emotion as he whispered, "Is it true, why you saved me? Because... you wanted me? Even then, even with what I was?"

Damien felt like he was being turned inside out, but with a Herculean effort he kept his voice steady. "That's not the only reason why, but... yes."

An instant later Gerald was kissing him - kissing him with the desperation of a drowning man, his lips moving almost frantically against Damien's, begging for a response. Damien couldn't fail to react to that intensity, and there was really only one thing for him to do: he kissed back, his hands coming up and fingers tangling in Gerald's golden hair, pressing his tongue against Gerald's lips and forcing his way into the adept's mouth, letting his guilt drown in pleasure.

Gerald sagged against him with a breathless moan as Damien's tongue plundered his mouth, the ex-priest feeling drunk on the heady, intoxicating sweetness of the adept's kiss. Gerald fought back, both of them struggling for dominance until the adept suddenly capitulated and let Damien push him back against the cushions. They finally broke apart, both of them panting, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting them hard. Damien could hardly believe this was really happening, not just another of his fantasies; Gerald half-pinned underneath him on the couch, staring at him with desire glazing his grey eyes, pale lips swollen and flushed a delicious petal-pink from the ferocious kiss they'd shared. They stared at each other for a moment, hearts pounding, then Gerald broke the silence.

"I'd apologize, but I don't think either of us is actually sorry."

Damien let out a bark of laughter - trust Gerald to be kissed breathless and still have a snappy retort at the ready. He let his weight rest a little more heavily on the adept, smiling wickedly at him. "Right, as usual."

Gerald's breath caught and he shifted slightly, freezing when the motion only caused both of them to gasp. He stared up at Damien, clearly struggling to keep his breathing steady, his pupils dilated in lust. "Much as I'd like to let this play out, Vryce, we do have a murderer to catch, and your team will be back soon..."

"Oh, I'm not letting you off the hook that easily." Damien growled, placing his hands on either side of Gerald's lean torso, completely trapping the handsome adept. "I put up with you teasing me all vulking day yesterday - you're just going to have to deal with the consequences."

Damien was entirely focused on the man pinned under him, so he heard the slight hitch in Gerald's breathing, despite the adept's attempt to conceal it. "What sort of consequences?" Gerald inquired in a breathy whisper, his eyes dilating further.

Oh, this was torture - and yet, so easy. Damien smirked. "This." he murmured, then crashed their mouths together again. He didn't bother trying to be gentle this time, and Gerald obviously appreciated that: his lean body arched against Damien's as he moaned into the knight's mouth, shivering when Damien caught hold of his wrists and pinned him to the couch. With an effort Damien pulled away again, then moved his head so that his lips were just brushing Gerald's ear, enjoying the way the adept's breath trembled in his throat. "And this."

Damien let go of Gerald and stood in the same motion, smirking as he took a few carefully measured steps away from the couch. Gerald pushed himself back up into a sitting position, glaring daggers: he looked like a total wreck, his hair disheveled and his jacket rumpled and half-unbuttoned from that first savage embrace. "You're going to pay for that later." he threatened as he stood as well, straightening his tie and attempting to smooth the wrinkles from his silk attire.

Damien grinned. "Better behave yourself, or I'll handcuff you to my desk." he threatened, watching with glee as Gerald's eyes went nearly black with lust at his words and tone.

"Careful, Vryce, I might just hold you to that threat." Gerald said, his eyes glittering as he smiled coyly. Damien chuckled and shook his head.

"You're incorrigible."

"Correction, I'm determined." Gerald drawled, finally succeeding in getting the worst wrinkles of out his suit. "I've been working on plans for seducing you for the last seven years, Vryce: now that I finally get to try it, I'm not going to beat around the bush."

Damien was already heading for the door when Gerald's words sank in and he whipped around, mouth hanging open. "Seven years?" he whispered hoarsely, when his voice was working again. "But - that would mean since..."

Gerald smiled softly, his teasing manner dissolving into genuine warmth. "Since the rakhlands." he acknowledged quietly, moving to stand close to Damien, reaching up to touch Damien's jaw. His fingers were warm, so unlike they had been on that fateful journey. Gerald's eyes were warm too, pools of pure emotion as he added, "Since the night you rescued me from the fire."

Damien's throat tightened in emotion, and he reached up to catch hold of Gerald's wrist, sliding their hands together and intertwining their fingers. "Gerald... that long?"

The adept nodded, his eyes glistening as he whispered, "Always."

He moved past Damien, toward the door: his hand was on the doorknob when he heard the ex-priest mumble, "The storm."

Gerald paused, then turned back, startled. "What?"

"That storm - on board the Golden Glory." Damien said, forcing himself to look up and meet Gerald's eyes. "When you came on deck in broad daylight, to Work the clouds. I didn't realize it then, not for a long time - but that's when I fell in love with you."

Gerald's eyes shone with happiness and he moved back into Damien's arms. They kissed again, and this time it was slow and sweet, loving and tender. It was sheer bliss. Reluctantly, they pulled apart and smiled at each other, basking in the emotions swirling in each other's eyes. Damien held Gerald's hand tightly as he whispered, "I know we need to focus on the case for now, but after - can we give this a chance, instead of running again?"

Gerald nodded, his throat choked with emotion as he answered, "There's nothing I'd like better."