Title: Power Play
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part 1)
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss; JJ/Hotch
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: Tensions are running high when a vampire joins the BAU, but all differences must be put aside as the team investigate a series of suspicious werewolf murders. AU.
Author's Notes: Betaed by Windy City Dreamer. Some guest beta work from Yellow Smurf.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

They're all but forced onto the extravagant looking sofas as the liaison leaves the room. The woman had remained behind, and she's eying them cautiously, as if Emily's quasi-outburst had thrown her expectations, and she's not quite sure what's going to happen next.

She's not the only one who had been shocked by the event. Hotch has a stoic look on his face, as if he's doing his very best not to chew Emily out for her reckless behavior, no pun intended. She'll deal with that later.

First order of business is to get out of this one alive.

It feels like a lifetime before the door reopens, and in all honesty, Emily would have preferred that it had been a lifetime.

She'd seen her mother last in France, almost twenty years prior. In lieu of any other option, she had run like hell, not even waiting for the elder vampire to give the kill order.

Emily finds herself sitting up straight, as though a rod has been jammed down her spine. Beside her, both Morgan and Hotch have tensed, Reid is looking apprehensive, JJ's brow is furrowed, and Rossi is being Rossi.

The Lady Elizabeth steps in, a dominating regal force. On first glance, she doesn't seem particularly evil, as such, but then the little things become more and more evident. The sharp gaze, the tightly wound hair. The way she moves her hands. She doesn't need fangs to kill anyone.

She stops, six feet from the couch, and it's evident that Hotch and Morgan are irritated by the power imbalance in play.

'Stand,' she says; it's not a request, it's an order, and she isn't talking to the rest of the team. She's talking to Emily.

Emily stands, stepping forward, and then curses herself silently for doing so. It's difficult to resist the trance of a thousand-year-old vampire, even if it is her mother.

'Leave us,' Elizabeth barks, and both the liaison and the woman on the sofa make their hurried departures. It's just the clan leader, and the team.

'Open your mouth.'

Emily finds herself being grabbed by the chin and given a cursory inspection of the oral cavity. Elizabeth makes a small sound of distaste.

'Rat?'

Emily nods, a movement made more difficult than it's supposed to by the strong grip on her jaw.

'Oh, Emeline.' Emily flinches involuntarily. She hasn't been called that in a long time. That name is associated with another point in her life altogether. 'How long has it been?'

'Six hundred years.'

She hears a short intake of breath from behind her, but doesn't turn to see who it is – Morgan, she thinks.

Her mother's hand brushes her cheek. Emily tries not to shudder at the touch. 'You're selling yourself short, Emily.' As much as it had made her uncomfortable to hear her old name, it's even worse to hear her mother use this one, even if one is just a shortened version of the other.

'I'll live my life my way, mother,' she says coldly, stepping back.

'More's the pity,' Elizabeth replies in a similar tone. She sets her narrow gaze upon the rest of the team, and Emily has the vaguest thought that if she lingers on Hotch's glare for too long, then there might be some kind of explosion.

'I assume you didn't come here to meet and greet,' she asks, as Emily sits back down, ignoring the questioning look from Morgan.

'Fourteen werewolves are dead. Murdered.' Hotch takes the lead, and it's obvious he's going to great pains not to let his anger out. That could be far more terrifying than Emily's irresponsible behavior. 'Last night, one of your vampires returned to the most recent crime scene, attacking the two agents that were there.' His eyes quickly dart towards Emily, and she bites back a curse.

'Are you alright, Emeline?'

'I'm fine, mother,' she grits, not happy with how this is playing out.

'Which vampire?'Elizabeth demands. 'I'll have him killed.'

'The vampire in question is in FBI custody,' Hotch counters, with, if it were possible, even more intensity in his voice. 'He will go through the proper judicial processes, and will be tried by a court of law. But the fact remains that he did not commit these murders.'

'Yet he confessed to them.'

'The vampire in question,' says Hotch, purposefully, Emily notices, avoiding any used of the vampire's name, 'Was under the influence of spell bands. As I understand, your clan is fervently against the use of magic in that way.'

Emily closes her eyes, hearing her father's screams. His pleas for mercy. No amount of false atonement will make up for that.

'We prefer to use our powers in other ways,' Elizabeth says shortly, the implication of the words ringing clear as day. 'If you need permission to interview the members of my clan, then you have it. But I assure you, none of them are responsible for this crime.'

Hotch hands her the form, the vampire signing neatly on the appropriate line. The FBI now has permission to question any member of the clan in matters pertaining to the crime they're investigating. It's what they had come for.

'If that's all…' says Elizabeth. 'I wish you luck in your investigation. Diego will escort you out.'

And for a moment, Emily thinks that it's over. That they had gotten through it without any hostility, any bloodshed.

Not quite.

'Emily.' Her mother's voice is forceful. Commanding. 'You're going to stay here. With me.' Again, it's not a request. It's an order.

Emily opens her mouth, about to retort with an expletive-laden reason as to why she most certainly isn't going to be staying behind. She's frozen in place though; can't move, can't talk.

Behind her, she hears Morgan drawing his weapon.

Shit.

'Like hell,' the werewolf growls.

She looks into her mother's eyes; sees the pupils dilating, sees the blinks coming a little faster. The fangs lengthen.

Oh shit.

'Get out of here,' she finds herself yelling. None of them have the capacity to take on one of the Fallen. They'll be dead within a second, even armed.

Before they can go anywhere, though, the doors slam shut.

They're trapped.