It was hard to tell how much time had passed, since she had found herself in that dark, humid basement. Actually, she started to feel so bored that she began counting every fleeting second, but it was hardly something one might call an occupation. Even shivering from the cold was more entertaining, especially that it allowed her to survive, as her body needed to produce heat in order to not freeze.

Her situation was terrible. Bloody hell, she had never expected to die in such a pathetic way, but unless the tables had turned miraculously, she would undoubtedly win the competition for the lousiest death in the history of French Ministry of Magic. The worst thing about the situation, was that she knew exactly where she was. Knowing all the streets in Paris helped her count every turn and figure out their destination, even though she had been blindfolded. But what could she use that knowledge for? Clarisse had no way of contacting anyone. She couldn't even see the tip of her own nose, not mentioning finding an escape route.

She was royally fucked. The only thing, making everything better was the fact, the killer hadn't stopped by the basement in quite some time, which meant that he had absolutely no idea that she wasn't really Eugenia. He would certainly be in for a great surprise, when he'd finally decided to check up on her, or at least, offer her some water or food.

Who was this guy? What did he want? Why had he done all of this? Those questions floated around her mind all the time, but no matter how hard she tried to find some explanation, she failed miserably. She couldn't have answered those questions before, and finding the man responsible for all those deaths didn't exactly change anything. A part of her wanted to laugh, knowing that apparently her entire life turned into one, great coincidence. What were the odds of the killer being her mother's friend? For fuck's sake, all of this started to look like a carefully prepared plot, to simply ruin her life. And she was inclined to believe that it could actually work.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door clicking and Clarisse felt herself grow almost motionless. For a second, she was even afraid to breathe, or move an inch. Partially, it was because she was afraid to see her captor, but it was also because she didn't want him to leave. She was sick of being alone, immersed into nothing but deafening silence.

Clarisse heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and then the entire room was flooded with dim light, making her eyes sting. They became so used to the darkness, that seeing light actually hurt, which was probably what her captor wanted to achieve. She tried to fight off the urge to shot her eyelids, knowing that she couldn't afford letting the man out of her sight.

He stopped in front of her, looking at her with a great dose of surprise. Riss found the strength to smile mockingly, and the man laughed out loud, clearly amused.

"I must say, I did not expect that," he said, still smiling. Clarisse cleared her throat, trying to see if she still knew how to speak.

"You should have. My mother stopped clubbing a long time ago," she answered.

"Yes... Being a single mother must have taken its toll on her." He nodded, genuinely amused and rocked back and forth on his feet. "Especially if her daughter turned out to be a little devil, huh?"

Clarisse clenched her teeth and sent him a glare that did nothing to lessen his amusement. Merlin, how she wanted to simply wipe that smile of his face, cuff him and throw him into a cell with no handles. But first, she had to question him and then make it out alive of that fucking basement.

"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring his little comment. "I remember you vaguely from my childhood, but I don't recall your name."

"Why do you think I'd make the mistake of telling you?"

"You've already made the mistake of not knocking me out, when you transported me here. I know exactly where we are, so finding you again would be a child's play, whether I know your name, or not," she stated, and he laughed again, this time completely humourless.

"I see that you're just as naïve as your mother, dearie. You're assuming I'm going to let you walk out of here alive."

Actually, she wasn't so stupid to assume that. Her situation was terrible, if not hopeless, but she wasn't going to admit that to him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

"Don't underestimate me."

"Oh, yes. You have skills." He nodded and smiled. "Kylian tells me you have a pretty mean Stunner." Clarisse froze at the mention of her father's name. She couldn't stop herself from fidgeting slightly, what didn't go unnoticed. "You're probably wondering how I've met him, aren't you?"

"What did you do to him?" she spat angrily, and her captor laughed.

"Don't you think he simply likes me? We're friends, Clarisse. Best buddies."

"My father would never be friends with a murderer!"

"Sweet child... I haven't murdered anyone. Your father, on the other hand..."

"He's an Auror!" she yelled and closed her eyes for a moment. "There's a difference between killing in your own defence, and taking someone's life away for fun!"

"Oh, is there?" He smiled coldly and grabbed a chair, pulling it closer to her. He sat down and leaned forward on his elbows, looking at her cautiously. "I don't think it makes any difference to the victims. Besides, your father has killed more times, than you know. In fact, I believe you've spent the last months looking for him."

Her heart stopped for a second, only to speed up again, when she understood the meaning behind his words.

"But... You've said..."

"I never said that I'm not guilty in a way, Miss Bouchard. Actually, the only reason why your father was running around, killing those girls, was because I told him to. I picked them, and he charmed his way into their hearts, so he could convince them to take part in the ritual. You see, the ritual requires the participants to be willing. It doesn't say anything about them knowing what it truly does. "

She felt sick to her stomach, when she listened to his words. He sounded so pleased with himself, that she wanted to puke right into his face. The man sitting in front of her, was truly disgusting, but she refused to believe that her father would have willingly sided with someone so vile.

"He would never..."

"Of course not. Not willingly, no," the man admitted and leaned back into a more comfortable position. "It took a lot of work to get him into the right state of mind. You've probably already figured out that he hasn't disappeared on his own, haven't you?"

She had. There was a time, when she was considering such an option, but it was only a brief moment. Kylian Bouchard was an honourable man, who would never simply leave his family. Clarisse believed that he was dead, because it was the only plausible explanation she could come up with. Never had she thought about... well, this. It seemed more like a terrible nightmare, like a fucked-up vision, rather than reality. Apparently, life could be completely unreal too.

"You've kidnapped him."

"Yes. I must say, you're all very predictable. All it takes, to get you to cooperate, is to threaten your family. Your father loved you and Genie very much. You should probably know that, before you die."

Clarisse felt tears streaming down her face, but she could do nothing to stop them. She promised that he wouldn't break her, but his words cut deeper than any knife could. He knew exactly where to hit her, to cause pain, and she began to realise that she really wouldn't make it out of this basement in one piece. Even if she had somehow managed to escape, she would be scarred, more than she already was.

"You're not going to kill me, until you tell me everything," she said quietly and clenched her fists. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

He clicked his tongue in response, looking slightly disappointed.

"My, my... I honestly thought that it would take much more, than talking about feelings, to break the famous Clarisse Bouchard."

"I'm not broken. Not yet anyway. I'm just too smart for my own good. Unfortunately, there isn't much I can do to stop you."

"Yes. You should have listened to your mother, when she asked you to stay away from that case."

"My mother had a hunch. She has them every time I'm on a case," Clarisse snorted, feeling weirdly moved at the thought of her mother's awkwardness. She wished they could have fought less. All these harmful words that had come out of her mouth seemed irrelevant now. She'd much rather tell her that she loved her...

"This time was different, Clarie. You have to know that, if you're as smart as you claim to be. Genie couldn't be sure, of course, but I think she suspected, who's behind those crimes. She'd be a fool otherwise."

"Why?" Riss asked, frowning slightly. Even with the sense of absolute despair, she couldn't resist asking questions, as if she was conducting an investigation. The tears that kept streaming down her face, made everything a bit harder, but she wasn't going to quit. She had to have all the answers, before she could ready herself for the inevitable.

The man smiled and looked at something above her shoulder. His gaze became distant and unfocused, while he tried to think of the best way to tell his story. Clarisse shifted impatiently, but he remained silent for another minute.

"I've always considered myself destined to do great things. I was smarter than other kids, more developed than them. Genius, one could call me. Of course, my peers hardly noticed my superiority, quite the opposite. To them, I was a freak, a meaningless nerd. Everyone made fun of me. Everyone, except for your mother," he said and his smiled changed into a gentler one. "Genie always like me, because she's seen something special in me. She's told me on more than one occasion, that I'm going to be someone important. We grew up together, and I was becoming more and more fixated on the idea of fulfilling her prophecy. I wanted to rule the world with your mother by my side."

"I take it didn't go too well," she mocked, earning herself a cold glare.

"Not all of it. Your mother might have chosen Kylian, but ruling the world is still in question, isn't it?" He smiled viciously, making shivers run up her spine. "I've decided that the only way to achieve my goal, is to search for the ancient knowledge. I wasn't near as powerful as Voldemort, and even he has been defeated. I had no intentions of letting my dreams burn to ashes. So I went on a journey. A journey, that gave me all the knowledge I needed."

Clarisse opened her mouth, when she realised what had he meant in the club. 'You could have owned the world, but you chose to stay with your pathetic family,' he'd said back then, and she had no clue what it was all about. Now, things became as clear as day.

"You wanted my mother to come with you," she whispered and the man nodded, scowling.

"Yes. I loved her, although I can't seem to recall why. Feelings are such a foreign concept to me, after all this time spent in solitude. You can probably understand."

She wanted to look away in a shameful gesture, but she forced herself to meet his cold gaze instead. Clarisse might have been a mean bitch, she might have hurt people, because she didn't care about anything. But she could never understand him. She wasn't a monster.

"Not really," she answered and shrugged. "I'd prefer if the world could just fuck off. I have no intentions of ruling over it."

"The world is flawed." His immediate response was harsh and stern, and Clarisse knew that he might have been a psycho, but he believed in his views, more than anything. "Especially the magical world. We've become lazy and arrogant, letting our magic do everything for us. We've stopped developing, satisfying ourselves with what he have now. Our society is primitive and much less advanced, than the one from the ancient times. The Alchemists could do things that we can only dream of. Our magic is weak and frail, while theirs was explosive and exciting. Wouldn't you rather live in a world, where people are ambitious? A world that would turn us into legends for the generations to come?"

Oh, so he was an idealist. For fuck's sake, why did every villain had to cloak his evil intents in some bullshit visions of the new world? Why couldn't they just admit, that they wanted to see the world burn, with thousands innocent people along it?

"And you think that you can achieve all that? Wow, let's talk about being naïve," she snorted and shook her head. "We may not be as powerful as the Alchemists, but we're also not as savage and barbaric. Those times, according to the known sources, were a gigantic bloodshed."

"That's the only way to start a revolution."

"That's also the only way to become a mass murderer," she pointed out and the man got up abruptly, making his chair fall over.

"If that's what it takes to change the world, I'm willing to do this!" he yelled and took out his wand, pointing it at her. "You're just as blind as your mother! If you cannot see my brilliance, I'll make sure that you cannot see anything."

"Wait!" she said, trying to calm her racing heart. She did not want to die in general, but a rational part of her told her that he still hadn't finished his story. She still had questions that needed to be answered. "You haven't explained everything. Please, I have to know."

Slowly, he lowered his wand, letting a smile appear on his face.

"So you're not as ignorant as I thought," he muttered and sighed. "Makes me think that maybe you could be useful. Maybe I could treat you the same way I've treated your father."

"Whatever you've done to him... I'd rather die," she said and scowled. "The thought of helping you, makes me sick to my stomach."

The man lifted his chair from the ground and sat down again, looking at Clarisse with a mixture of resentment and amusement.

"You're definitely Kylian's daughter. So loyal, so... good. Yes, the resemblance is striking. It makes it even more entertaining to break you and watch you do the things you despise the most. Do you want to know what I've done to him?"

She wanted to say no, but no words left her mouth. Because even the worst pain couldn't stop her desperate need to finally understand. So she stayed silent, and watched the man's smile grow wider, and wider.

"I've Obliviated him. I took memories of his family, of his feelings, and replaced them with need, similar to the one that drives me. I've created a version of myself, one that is incapable of feeling, one that is willing to take the blame for my crimes." Clarisse's vision became blurred, when tears started to fall from her eyes once again. She tried to do everything, not to sob in despair, but every word coming out of that vile man's mouth made it harder, and harder. "He committed all those crimes, even if he wasn't the one to orchestrate them. How brilliant is that?"

"Brilliant?" she choked out and shook her head. "It's the most barbaric thing I've ever heard of. Only a very sick mind could do something like that."

"Being sick doesn't exclude the possibility of being brilliant. You have to admit that... Those murders were perfect in every sense."

She clenched her teeth, wishing that she had never thought that about them. If they'd been anything less than perfect, she would have caught him a long time ago. Her team would have helped with that.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realised that she would never see them again either. She would never be scolded by Deschamps, she would never make fun of Fabre, she would never see Jacques smile, and she would never... Oh, Merlin. She would never see Finley again.

"Do you know why I've kidnapped you?" he asked, completely oblivious to the flood of feelings in her body. "You... I mean, your mother, was supposed to be my last stand. You see... There is a way to retrieve the power from those creatures. And I need a very powerful Oracle to do it."

"You mean, kill them?"

"No. I mean bind their power. I'll be doing the killing. The only murder I intend to commit." He smiled mockingly. "There's a ritual that allows to harness their power, just a second after they've been killed. The Oracle has to harness it and then transfer it to another person."

"But how will you kill them? Aren't they like Dementors?"

"They are creatures that don't have a constant form, which is why you couldn't see them in the club with your father. They become visible only when they feed. That is also that one moment, when you can defeat them, just as if they were normal people."

"So you're planning another murder?" Clarisse asked with disbelief and the man clicked his tongue.

"No, Clarie. The rituals were necessary in order to create those creatures. Now that they're here, all they need is a one small wound. Why do you think your father is still alive?"

"You want them to kill him, while my mother is watching?" she whispered and felt a bile rise in her throat. She felt sick. In fact, she wasn't sure if she could stop herself from vomiting. Not when he clearly wanted to answer her question.

"Yes. Ironic, isn't it? The final proof that love doesn't conquer all."

He was crazy. Crazy and completely fucked up. Clarisse wanted to scream in rage, to tear his face off, just so she wouldn't have to keep staring at his nauseating smile. But she couldn't. All she could do, was to stare at the man in front of her, feeling utterly hopeless and defeated.

"Of course, now that I have captured you, instead of your mother, things won't be as meaningful." He frowned. "You see, I've forgot to mention. You simply cannot harness that much power, without consequences. The pain of it is... excruciating. Or at least, so I've heard. Your mother would have undoubtedly died doing that. She had never been the one to withstand a great deal of suffering. She was supposed to die, along with your father. Like Romeo and Juliet," he laughed for a moment, but then his expression changed back to stone-cold. "You may actually live through it, but there's an easy way to fix that."

He stood up again, raising his wand at her, and she knew that she ran out of questions. Clarisse couldn't think of anything worth asking, except for one thing.

"If you gain all that power, won't the creatures appear again?"

"They will," he admitted, but didn't stop smiling. "It won't matter, though. It will take months, or maybe even years for them to suck it out. Like I said, they may follow me around, but until I've suffered from any wounds, they cannot take it away."

She swallowed hard and looked at the tip of his wand. He clearly had no intentions of killing her now, so she guessed he had to transport her to a different place. This time, he wasn't going to make that same mistake of leaving her conscious.

"I'm not going to do it," she said, just to buy more time. Clarisse doubted that someone was coming to rescue her, since no one actually knew where she went, but she had to hope. Maybe, just maybe... Maybe just this once, she could be lucky. "I'm not going to help you."

"Do you want me to kill your mother? Or better, have Kylian do it?" he asked her in response, and Clarisse had already known the answer to that question. "Oh, and there's always that British Auror you seem to fancy."

"He's Irish, you moron," she protested pointlessly, and the man chuckled.

"Yeah, that one. You probably wouldn't want me to kill him, just because you weren't cooperating, huh?"

"He's going to find you and make you pay," she said with force, knowing that no matter how everything would end, she could be sure of that one thing. Aedan would never stop hunting him, just as the rest of their team.

"No, Clarie. No one is going to stop me."

At this exact moment, she heard another door creak and her heart performed a summersault, when she realised that her silent pleas must have been heard. The man spun around, pointing his wand at the staircase, where she had noticed a familiar man with his wand out as well. Before she could think this through, she launched herself at her captor, who was now standing with his back turned on her, and she knocked him down.

"Move!" Aedan yelled, before he had sent a Stunner in the man's direction, and she rolled out of the way with all the remaining strength.

Just like that, it was over. Clarisse wanted to laugh at the irony in the entire situation. A man, who wanted to rule the world, got defeated by a simple Stunner. No sound escaped her throat though, as she struggled to blink the tears away, when relief washed over her entire body. She was alive. She was alive, because Aedan came to her rescue.

"You have a pretty mean Stunner," she choked out, when he kneeled down next to her with his hair dishevelled and pure worry painted all over his face.

"Clarie..." he breathed out and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a sitting position. He didn't let go, even after she sat up and steadied herself with her own palms. "Thank Merlin, you're alright."

"Kind of," she answered and shook her head. "Almost. I..."

"Shh..." he said and put a finger on her lips. "I've made it. It's over."

She looked at him, and for a moment, the entire world around them stopped. Something told her that nothing was over. They could have caught the killer, but somehow, it felt more like a beginning of something both exciting and foreign.

When he leaned down and kissed her, she had no doubts. She simply kissed him back, letting his familiar scent invade her senses, just like the feeling of his soft lips, brushing against her own. It wasn't wild, it wasn't filled with consuming lust, but Clarisse knew that it was magical. Those kisses she had shared before couldn't even come close to something as meaningful and emotional as kissing Aedan Finley.

She felt his fingers brush against her cheek, only to pull her even closer after a second, deepening the kiss and making it even more overwhelming. Clarisse wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself forget about the pain and exhaustion of being held captive, because she was right where she wanted to be. That realisation was just as shocking and embarrassing, as it was thrilling.

She felt alive. And nothing else truly mattered.