CIRI STARED AT the ceiling, a flickering slideshow of images playing on the peeling white paint.
"Regretting something?" a voice said, and she sat up quickly, startled. Takoda stood in the doorway, smiling at her. He looked so professional in his white formal shirt, black jeans and boots that Ciri couldn't help but smile back.
"A few things," she replied, moving aside so that he could sit down next to her. He lowered himself down, not meeting her eyes.
"It's Ace, isn't it?"
She didn't reply.
"You like him, don't you?" Takoda asked quietly.
"No," Ciri replied quickly, and regretted it.
Takoda gave a gentle chuckle. "You're lying."
Ciri bit her lip, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. "I don't know why. He's a criminal, and I'm supposed to be dragging his corpse to the council by now. I mean, I hated him the moment I saw him, so why should I feel like this now?"
"I can't tell the truth unless I already know it."
"I know," Ciri replied with a sigh. "I just don't like going into things blind, and you know that."
"Not everyone gets to see how their life's going to turn out before it happens," Takoda said with a laugh. "Some of us have to just take it step by step. You should try it too."
Ciri nodded slowly.
"Speaking of visions," Takoda said, a little more sternly. "Have you been taking your medication?"
"No," she replied, and recieved a glare from him. "But I haven't slept for two days straight, so I haven't been needing it."
"And I presume that you don't have any on you tonight?"
"I thought I was going to have killed Ace and got home in time to take my meds, but it didn't work out. So no, I don't."
Takoda sighed. "Are you going to be okay without them?"
Ciri bit her lip. "I hope so. I'll live, but I probably won't sleep much."
"Well, try to," he soothed, his caramel eyes warming up. "And don't worry about the whole Ace-thing. You'll work it out."
"Thanks," she said, giving him a quick hug.
"No problem," he replied, leaving the room.
ACE KNOCKED GENTLY on Ciri's door, and receiced an invitation to enter. He pushed on the white wood, his eyes immediately falling onto Ciri. She was dressed in a simple white tank top and dark grey pajama pants, her chestnut brown hair falling around her shoulders. In her hands she held a novel entitled 'Spirit Bound' as she leaned against the bedhead.
"Can I help you?" she prompted, not looking up from her book.
"I overheard some of your conversation with Takoda earlier," he began delicately. Her eyes snapped up to meet his.
"How much did you overhear?"
"Not too much," he said vaguely, and she narrowed her eyes.
"Which part?"
"The visions part." Not entirely a lie. Not entirely the truth either.
She closed her book. "Yes?" she said cautiously.
"You take meds?"
She hesitated, before nodding. "I take them before I go to sleep. They stop my visions."
"What visions?"
She sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Some powerful Sight Demons have been able to call up images, often of the future, at will. It's not well known among Demons, but my Mother had it, and I do too. My power isn't as strong as hers. As with Healing Demons, we reach a certain age and our power doubles, but our Coming is later on. She would often sort the truth from the lies in court cases, calling up images of the wrongdoings to see if the accused was innocent or guilty. I get images in my sleep, instead of dreams."
"Why do you take pills to stop them? Wouldn't it be helpful to see what's coming?"
Ciri averted her gaze. "The last vision I had was of my Mother's death."
"Oh."
"I would have visions when I was four, five. Always of deaths. Murders, suicides, accidents. I don't ever remember not having a death-vision. As I grew older, they began to affect me more, and I began to grow more depressed. I took the pills to stop the visions and therefore the depression, but also so I couldn't predict who was going to die. I didn't want to see those I loved killed."
Ace swallowed, feeling guilty about bringing such an uncomfortable subject up. "My mother died a few years after I was born. My father died during a gang shoot-out. I was fifteen. I dropped out of high school and joined my old man's club. I pretty much made them my family."
"And then you went and killed Roarke's father," she said coldly.
"Hey, you know nothing about that," he shot back. "He killed my father. I was just returning the favour."
Ciri rolled her eyes. "My father is on the High Council."
Ace straightened, narrowing his eyes. The High Council was the ruling government of the Demon Council. They designed the laws and decided which Demons would enforce them and which Demons would guard the prisoners.
"My mother was too," she added with a ghost of a smile. "When I reach seventeen, I'm supposed to join them."
"I thought you had to be at least twenty-one to be on the High Council."
She smiled bitterly. "You don't know what my last name is, do you?"
"No."
"My full name is Cyrilla Adele Nostredame. I was named after my mother and take my surname from my ancestor Jean de Nostredame. He was the younger brother of Nostradamus. We are a long line of prophets, and often have our Comings earlier than other prophets. Due to this, we are able to secure seats on the High Council at very young ages."
"So you're powers are going to double when you reach seventeen?"
"That's what my father is planning on. Personally, having nightmares at night is enough. Having visions during the day...it's going to be hell."
He smiled, perching on the edge of the bed. "I think you're powerful enough. I've only known you for two days, and you surpassed Christian."
She frowned, and he shook his head.
"Sorry. Christian is a member of my club. He's a Sight Demon, but I don't think he's a descendant of Nostradamus."
"I'll have to meet him sometime."
Ace hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "I heard more of your conversation. Earlier than the visions part."
Ciri sucked in a sharp breath. Ace couldn't help but smile.
"Apparently, you like me."
She glared, not meeting his gaze. "It's rude to eavesdrop," she whispered, closing her eyes.
He cocked his head to one side, smiling. He leaned in suddenly, and completely unexpectantly and impulsively kissed her.
Her eyes sprung open with shock, before she responded, kissing him back. He chuckled, pulling away. Ciri stared at him, eyes wide and shocked. They weren't their usual blue. They had a green and gold flecked ring around the pupil.
"Your eyes..."
She raised a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes, before opening them. They were their usual blue. She had dropped her guard, Ace realised. She hid her eyes with her power.
"Goodnight, Ace," she said, and he rose, moving over to her door.
He glanced back at her as he left, and caught her smiling.
CIRI SWUNG UP onto the kitchen counter, and Takoda jumped, dropping his spoon. It fell into his bowl, spraying milk and cereal all over the counter.
"Someone's happy," he commented as she beamed down at him. "Which is...unusual."
"I have a right to be happy," she retorted, tossing her hair back. "I didn't have any visions last night."
Takoda - having attempted to eat his cereal - dropped his spoon again. "Can I ask why?"
"You can, but I won't answer," she replied evasively, slipping off the counter.
"Did you try alcohol?" he guessed. "Oh God, please don't tell me you tried drugs."
She laughed. "No. Ace kissed me."
Takoda choked on his cereal. He lowered his spoon, coughing. "Care to run that by me again?"
"You heard me the first time. And you can tell I'm not lying."
He pushed his bowl away, not trusting himself. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"
"No, that's about it." Ciri smiled, slipping two pieces of bread into the toaster. "What are we doing today?"
"Well, I presume that you don't want to arrest Ace, so I guess that means we have to hide him from any council members."
"That's settled. I can do that on my own."
Takoda pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going home then, if that's okay with-"
A loud shout split the quiet morning air, and the two Demons spun around.
"That was-"
"Ace!" Ciri shouted, bolting for his room. She passed a startled Trisha in the hall, and froze in the doorway to Ace's room.
His window had been smashed in, and glass littered the carpeted floor. Ace was lying on the floor, unconcious. A second figure was straightening up, turning to face her, a baseball bat in his hand. Ace's wrists were handcuffed behind his back.
"Hey, Ciri," Greg said with a smile. "Long time no see."
Takoda jerked to a stop behind her.
"And Takoda, too. So good to see you again."
"What are you doing?" Ciri asked numbly.
"Arresting a murderer," Greg replied. "Ashton Kelly was convicted of the murder of Ian Byrne. After you didn't show up with him, I was sent out. So here I am."
"How did you find us?"
"I grew up in the same class as you. I know your mind inside and out. Why didn't you arrest him?"
"I did," she said angrily. "He was under my supervision. I was in need of rest, so I retired to Patrisha's house. She's a council member. I also called in a second council member for supervision." Ciri guestured to Takoda. "I was going to hand him over to the council tomorrow. Something wrong with that?"
"Why didn't you hand him in the first night you saw him?"
"I ran into an old acquiantance."
Greg raised his eyebrow.
"Samuel Brocklyn."
Greg shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I've been ordered to take him to the Council Chambers, and escort you there, too. I've also been told to bring in anyone accompanying you."
"Takoda, Abby, Roarke and Trisha," Ciri said, purposely excluding Rem. She didn't doubt that he would be imprisoned if he was debriefed by the Coucil.
"Fine."
"What are we waiting for, then?"
ACE'S BACK WAS faintly numb with cold. He groaned, the back of his head aching. He went to push himself up with his hands, and cried out in pain.
Ace clenched his teeth, sitting up. He was on a metal table, bare from the waist up. His wrists were secured to the table, as were his ankles. A cylinderical metal bar had been forced through each of his palms, just above his thumb muscles.
Why the hell would someone put a piece of metal through his hand?
He froze, before concentrating on creating a shield, forcing the surrounding air to compress into a wall. Pain shot up his arm, smothering his hand.
He let out a cry, clenching his eyes shut.
Oh. That was why.
It was to prevent him creating shields. It would render his power useless, and so he would be as defenseless as an average human.
Ace swore, tugging experimentally on the manacle around his right hand.
"Come on," he muttered. "Give, give, give."
He knew it wouldn't though. He was within the Council Chambers, and these walls held the majority of Demon criminals. They had been incarcerating Demons since the sixteenth century. They knew every escape technique.
Anger reared up in him, and he tugged more vigorously on his restraints, swearing as he went.
"Please refrain from pulling on your restraints," a female voice said over the speaker.
"Screw you!" Ace shot back.
"Please lie down," the female voice said with more force.
Ace ignored her.
Something hard slammed into his abdomen, throwing him onto his back. He choked, winded, as footsteps moved towards him.
A smug smile loomed over him, accompanied by two shining brown eyes. Black curls of hair framed a dark face.
She chuckled quietly, standing casually next to him.
"When Carrie asks you to lie down, she usually wants you to lie down," the young woman said.
Ace glared at her, finding his breath again.
"Who the hell are you?" he snapped, and the hard object - a shield, he now realised - disappeared from over his stomach.
"That's for me to know and for you to never find out," she replied.
"You're a Shield Demon," he said slowly.
"Yep, just like you," she said, flicking back a strand of hair.
He narrowed his eyes. "You look familiar."
"Why? We've never met before."
Ace shrugged.
The woman raised her head, before turning back to him. "You have a guest. This time, stay down, okay?"
She let out a short laugh, before leaving the room.
Ciri appeared at his side, black katana on her hip.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Apart from two poles being shoved through my hands and being hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat - yeah, I'm fine," Ace said, irritated.
"We around here don't like to give prisoners a chance to test out their powers on their surroundings."
"So I see. Who was that woman? I'm sure I've seen her before..."
"That was Adie. She's the twin sister of Trisha. They're both Shield Demons."
Ace nodded in understanding.
"You have a court hearing," Ciri said quietly.
"A court hearing? What, you need a professional ceremony to announce my punishment?" Ace said.
Ciri glared.
"When?" Ace sighed.
"Five minutes."
"Five minutes?" Ace said in disbelief.
"Hurry up - I don't have long. Any more questions?"
"Where's Rem?"
"He wasn't seen by the Council member. He got away."
"Who hit me?"
"Gregory," Ciri answered, her lips thinning in annoyance. So she didn't like this guy obviously.
"No last name?"
"Not allowed," Ciri replied shortly.
Ace rolled his eyes. "What about Roarke and Abby?"
"They were debriefed and released."
"So I'm the only one who gets imprisoned?"
Ciri glanced over her shoulder, before raising her eyes skyward. "I have to go," she said regretfully.
"Any pointers you can give me for my big court day?" Ace said sarcastically.
"Don't make smart remarks," Ciri said, frowning. "Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't suggest anything violent or it will be used against you. Foreman was the judge at Brocklyn's court session, and chose his punishment based on the fact that Brocklyn made a comment that even if they locked him up, he'd still spill secrets via his Thoughts. Foreman sewed his mouth shut with the answer that, 'It's all you'll need to use to speak then'."
"Thanks. I'll try to keep that in mind."
"I'll be at the hearing, and I'll see you after it," Ciri assured him, before leaving him.
THE COURTROOM WAS massive. There were no pews, only a judge's stand and the accused's stand. Two Shield Demons lined the doorway, pulling up a wall as soon as he was led in. A set of Speed Demons and Pursuation Demons lined each wall, with Strength Demons as guards at his stand.
The judge sat behind a desk on a raised platform. A golden placque on the wooden desktop read Jeremy Foreman.
Ace was led to the chair on his stand. He sat down, eyes flickering around until they spotted Ciri. She was standing near a door on the far left, eyes flickering between Foreman and him.
"Let the court hearing of Ashton Kelly begin," Foreman announced.
CIRI MOVED QUIETLY through the corridors, eyes picking up everything; who was guarding which hallway, who was chatting with whom, how many people were clustered around each exit.
"Hey, Adie," she called pleasantly to the guard.
"Hey, Ciri," the dark woman replied, flashing her a smile. "What's up?"
"I'm taking this shift," she announced casually, earning a frown from Adie. "My father wanted me to have something to do until my next assignment."
"Sweet," she replied with a shrug. "Have fun."
Ciri took her post, watching until Adie disappeared around the corner. She exhaled, mentally switchng to view the security guard's vision. Carrie's eyes were flickering between the eleven screens before her, intent and focused. Ciri fixed Ace's picture on the screen with her power, before slipping inside. Now she could move around unseen.
Ace sat up when he saw her. She raised a finger to her lips, and he nodded. She could affect sight easily. She couldn't affect sound.
She unlocked Ace's manacles, and he slid off the table. She led him out of the room, closing the door behind them.
Ciri slung her backpack off her shoulder, pulling out two rolls of white bandages. "I'm going to slide the metal poles out of your hands. Hold still."
She pulled them out as gently as she could, before wrapping them in bandages. She knew general first aid, but he was going to need Abby to heal him.
She slid her black hoodie off, handing it to him. "Put it on and keep your hands in the pockets. Wait here until you hear a commotion, then go out the exit around the corner, to your left. If you follow the edge of the building, you should come to a garage. I've phoned Roarke, so he should be waiting there. Pick a car and get away from here. Okay? Drive to Vegas or somewhere flashy. Go somewhere busy and crowded. There's a credit card in the jumper pocket. If anyone asks why you're here, you're guarding this cell. I've already gotten rid of Adie."
"Anything else?" he asked, smiling slightly.
"Yeah," she replied, standing on her toes and kissing him. She broke off quickly, flashing him a smile. "Don't get caught."
She ran off down the corridor, praying that things would all go to plan.
Halfway to the dormitories, she ran in Jay. They had attended school on the Council grounds when they were younger, and he had been a constant pain to her. Her unusual eyes - due to her being a Sight Demon - and her midnight visions, which she would awaken screaming from, had made her a target for bullies. Jay had been somewhat of a ring leader, and she still resented him for it. Time he repaid her.
"Jay, just the guy I was looking for," she said, smiling. "I was wondering if you and some of the others wanted to play a game of Night Hunter."
He shrugged. "Sure. Who do you want to play?"
"I don't know...Pauline? Josh, Trent, Greg? Susie? A few of those people. I'll meet you in the training room in five minutes, okay?"
"Okay," he said, excitement surfacing in his voice as he sprinted off to find the others.
CIRI PULLED HER hair back into a ponytail, before fastening her belt around her waist. Her katana bumped gently against her hips as she surveyed her opponents. There were six Demons in total.
Jay, a Sound Demon, armed with a sword. Pauline, a Speed Demon, armed with a bow and arrow. Josh and Trent, two Shifting Demons - like Roarke - each holding an arm-length dagger. Susie, a small blonde girl who specialised in quarterstaffs, was an Intelligence Demon.
Greg, who had attacked Ace with a baseball bat, now held a sword. He was a Speech Demon, able to translate anything written or said into any language, even those that were considered extinct. It wasn't a very useful skill in fights, and he didn't specialise in swords. He prefered blunt weapons, like quarterstaffs and baseball bats.
They were all dressed in black, which made it all the more harder in the game. The aim was to capture all of your opponents, and force them to surrender, an act which was referred to as 'dying'. The last one still 'alive' was the winner. It was played in the training room, a massive indoor arena full of trees and shrubs that were as thick as a rain forest. There was a single light at the centre of the ceiling, casting an imitation of moonlight onto the dense, tree-clogged field below. The only fully lit area was the weapons shed, which they were standing in now.
"We all know the rules," Jay said, stepping forwards. "If you die, you return here. Last one alive wins. Ready?"
They all moved to the border of the shed, where the first patches of grass met the concrete floor.
"Set? Go!"
The team of six launched themselves into the darkness, but Ciri held back slightly, trailing one person in particular.
She followed him silently, breathing as gently as possible. He paused on a tree branch, a few metres off the ground. Ciri inhaled, closing her eyes briefly, before leaping towards a branch halfway between her tree and his. Her hands closed on the wood, and she swung, kicking out at the boy.
Greg lost his balance, falling to the floor, and landing on his back, winding himself. In one fluid movement, she landed on a lower branch, drawing her sword with her right hand. She dropped down, landing on the ground in a crouch, right hand outstretched as her left slammed into the dirt, absorbing part of the impact.
Greg gave a soft cry, and Ciri jerked her sword out of his upper abdomen, kneeling beside him. She leaned in next to his ear, and whispered, "That was for Ace."
His eyes glazed over as she stood up, sheathing her sword.
She walked back to where they had started from. She had no more reason to stay here. Her goal had been to kill Greg, and she had accomplished it. Let the others finish their game. She had other business to finish.
Ciri was within twenty metres of the weapons shed when she felt the presence behind her. She spun around, drawing her sword, which clashed with another.
"Cyrilla Nostredame," Jay said, his voice wraught with slight horror, but understanding of its duty. "You are hereby arrested for the murder of Gregory Marshall. If you resist, force can and will be used to restrain you. Anything you say can be used against you in court."
She had two options, fight or hand herself in. Fleeing was not an option. And it was emphasized when Pauline appeared at Jay's shoulder. A Speed Demon could beat her in any getaway. Handing herself in would make everyone come to her. Fighting and escaping would send everyone running around, trying to find her. Someone would run into Ace.
Ciri unbuckled her belt, holding it out it him, sword and all. He took it silently, handing it to Pauline. She extended her arms, palms up, and stood patiently as he closed one handcuff around her wrist, turning her gently around and fastening the other behind her back.
One hand around her wrist and one on her shoulder, Jay led her out of the training arena. She ignored the stares and whispers of the witnesses as she was paraded towards the High Council chambers.
The great mahogany doors were dragged open, and she stepped inside, raising her head to meet the eyes of the twelve men and women who would find her guilty of murder.
ACE WAITED NERVOUSLY as the minutes ticked by. After about fifteen minutes, someone arrived to meet a pair of guards standing by an exit door. They left quickly to follow their comrade, leaving him alone. Praying that Ciri hadn't done anything rash or stupid, he bolted outside, following her directions until he found Roarke.
He pulled his hands out of his pockets with a hiss, trying to ignore the spikes of pain they sent up his arms. The bandages were already crimson with blood.
"What the hell happened to you?" Roarke demanded.
"Council procedures," he replied shortly, eyes skimming over the cars parked in the garage. "Are these all council members' cars?"
"Yeah," Roarke answered. "I found a nice little spiced-up AC Cobra."
"Great, we'll take it. Let's go."
Roarke led the way to a little white, blue-striped Cobra, beaming proudly down at it. "Sweet, isn't she?"
Ace slid into the passenger seat as Roarke gripped the wheel. "Do you know how to hotwire a car?"
"No," Roarke replied.
Ace sighed. "Pop the hood. Find some alligator clamps. There's got to be some somewhere in this garage."
He leaned against the car's leather seats while he waited for Roarke to find the stuff. Whoever owned this car must have been having their mid-life crisis. It screamed 'expensive', from the paintjob to the flashy interior.
Roarke returned with two pairs of alligator clamps.
"See the battery and the coil? Connect positive to positive, negative to negative. Good. Now I just need..."
Ace glanced around, before deciding on a shiny silver metal dial on the dashboard. He slammed his foot down on it, tearing it off. Roarke let out a moan, as if feeling the car's pain. Ace chucked it to him.
"Put it between the solenoid terminals. It should spark."
The car rumbled to life. Roarke jumped in, revving the engine and laughing at the sound it produced. "Man, that's sweet."
"Being a criminal is handy, isn't it?" Ace said, smiling.
"You're kidding me," Takoda said, and Ace jumped. Takoda had appeared soundlessly beside the passenger door, and was staring increduously down at them. "You have over two hundred cars here and you chose an AC Cobra?"
"Hey, this car is a beautiful, timeless classic," Roarke said, defending it.
"And, let me guess - you two didn't disable the tracking device."
Ace and Roarke exchanged glances. Takoda rolled his eyes, swinging over the back and slamming his foot into the radio. Roarke let out a cry of disbelief and horror as Takoda began pulling out wires.
"There you go," he said, holding up a chip. He snapped it in half. "Problem solved. Now drive."
"You are not coming," Roarke began, before Takoda fixed him with a glare.
"If you leave me here, I'll report you. I know my way out of this place, and you'll need my ID card to get past the front gate guards. Now, drive."
CIRI LEANED AGAINST the wall, legs stretched out across the prison bed as she drummed her fingers against the bare mattress.
The door slid open and a man in his late forties with greying hair and icey blue eyes stepped in, looking like thunder.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed, eyes blazing.
She glared back at him, standing up. "I was thinking that it would be nice to kill off any son of a bitch who gets in my way."
"How dare you," he snarled, advancing on her. "You will not speak to me like that, Cyrilla."
"I'll speak however the hell I want to!" she shouted back.
They glared at each other, unmoving.
"If your mother was here-" he began.
"Do not speak about Mom!" she screamed. "Mom would have never have pressured me into joining the High Council or sent me on missions to arrest murderers!"
"Is that what this is about?" he demanded. "Ashton Kelly?"
"Yes, it is," she hissed.
"Is that why you killed Gregory? Because you failed to arrest him and Gregory did?"
"No, it's because I purposely didn't arrest him for a reason, and Gregory got in the way of my plans."
Her father stiffened. "He's not in his cell, is he?"
She smiled cruelly. "No. He's not."
He moved to the doorway, and beckoned a guard over. "Check prison cell D42. Ashton Kelly's cell."
The guard nodded, hastening off, before returning to confirm Ciri's statement.
Her father turned back to her, face full of rage and hands shaking. "You released him?"
"Yes."
He slapped her, sending her sprawling back onto the bed. She lay there, shocked. She hadn't expected him to hit her. Shouting, yes, but hitting? Physical violence? No.
"Why?" he roared. "Why did you let him escape?"
"Because I love him!"
Anthony seized her around the neck, dragging her up and pinning her to the wall. "You will never ever have a relationship with a criminal. Not as long as I live."
Fury reared up within her, red and hot and overpowering. She punched him in the jaw. He released her, stepping back in both shock and pain.
"Then go die," she spat.
He narrowed his eyes at her, before moving to the doorway. "Watch her," he ordered the nearest guard. "And make sure she does not leave this room."
The guard nodded, and Anthony Nostredame slammed the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her cell.
SHE WAS RUNNING up a flight of stairs to a door slightly ajar, revealing a patch of star-speckled midnight burst through the door with Ace at her side, his eyes wide - startled. Before them stood Takoda and Samuel Brocklyn, the latter aiming a gun at the caramel-eyed boy's chest.
He threw her a malicious grin, before a bullet lodged in Takoda's heart.
She raced forward as Samuel bolted, taking another corridor off the rooftop. She knelt down at Takoda's side, a hand brushing the blood seeping across his chest. Tears fell onto his face - her tears, she realised - as she leaned over his glazed eyes.
Ciri bolted upright, her scream piercing the air. Bloodstained and terrifying images played behind her eyes as she thrashed, needing something, someone to comfort her, to reassure her.
"Hey, hey," a voice said, and arms encompassed her. She buried her face into the woman's dark shoulder, sobbing. Trisha stroked her hair, rocking her gently back and forwards. Ciri was trembling, eyes screwed shut as she cried.
"Shh," Trisha soothed. "It's alright, honey, it's alright. I'm here, I've got you. It's alright."
Ciri swallowed. "Takoda," she gasped. "He's not here. He went with them. I need to find him. I need to tell him."
"Ciri," Trisha said sharply, holding her at arms length. "What happened? What did you see?"
"Takoda," she whispered. "Takoda dying."
Trisha's eyes widened, and Ciri dug her nails into the woman's arms, searching her eyes.
"Please," she begged. "I need to find him."
ACE LAY BACK against the comfortable bed, willing himself to fall asleep. Roarke was already snoring in the adjoining room and Takoda was resting on the sofa. The pain in his hands was keeping him awake. At least the bleeding had slowed down, and they had replaced the bandages.
He rolled over, his mind buzzing with questions. Was Ciri okay? What had the 'commotion' been? How long until he saw Ciri again?
Ace sighed, climbing to his feet and moving onto the balcony. The midnight wind was cold against his bare chest and his feet were freezing. Far below him headlights flashed across storefronts, shouting reflections back at him. Neon lights danced in his peripheral vision as he leaned against the railing.
"Something wrong?"
Ace glanced over at Takoda as the younger boy leaned against the doorframe. "I'm worried."
Takoda came and joined him at the railing.
"You know Ciri, right?" Ace continued. "You don't think she'd do anything stupid, do you?"
"I've known Ciri since we were six. We attended the school at the Demon Council, and were in the same grade," Takoda said, smiling as he reflected on his memories. "She was teased because of her eyes. I don't know if you've noticed, but they actually have a gold and green-"
"-ring around the pupil," Ace finished. "I saw."
"Yeah. Jay - one of the kids there - started taunting her. And then, while we were having a camp-out training, she had one of her nightmare-visions. Jay never let her forget it. I was her only friend. I punched that son of a bitch right in the jaw." Takoda chuckled, eyes glowing. "It made me a target of theirs, but at least it took most of the attention off Ciri. We stayed friends, all up until now. I've known her for sixteen years, and she's never done anything stupid. But I have never seen her fall for anyone like she has with you."
Ace smiled. "She's beautiful. She's so... confident with herself."
Takoda smiled softly, before it slipped from his face. "You don't know what the commotion was, do you?"
Ace glanced at him. "No."
"Ciri..." He sighed, briefly closing his eyes. "Ciri killed Gregory."
"What?"
"The boy who attacked you. Ciri killed him. She handed herself in to create a diversion so you could escape."
"What?" Ace shouted, eyes flaring. "And you left her there? Why didn't you help her?"
"She was brought to the High Council," Takoda shot back. "It's the most heavily guarded room in the entire Council Chambers. How the hell did you expect me to get her out with two hundred Demons to arrest me?"
"You could have waited until they imprisoned her!"
"She will be fine," he mumbled. "Her father is on the High Council. He wouldn't have let them trial her. Yet."
"Yet?" Ace said increduously, accusingly.
"You know what?" Takoda snarled, turning to face him, eyes blazing. "Screw you! If she had just killed you when she met you in that bar, she would never be in this mess! It's your own fault, you bastard."
He stormed out of the hotel room, Ace glaring after him.
ACE EXHALED ANGRILY, dragging himself up to answer the visitor pounding on the door. He had ignored the first hurried knocks, but he couldn't ignore this. It was probably Takoda, back to restart their yelling match.
He jerked the door open, and froze at the worried figure standing in the doorway.
"Ciri?"
She shoved past him, eyes flickering around the room. She spun around to face him, frantic. "Where is he?" she demanded, obviously shaken. "Where's Takoda?"
"He stormed out a few minutes ago-"
She let out a soft cry, eyes filling with fear. She bolted out the door, and he rushed to follow.
Ciri's heart was in her throat as she pounded up the steps towards the rooftop. He had been here in her vision. She just prayed that he was alone. Prayed that she could save him.
But she already knew that she couldn't. Already knew that she would witness Takoda die. Deaths were set in stone. They were not preventable or avoidable.
She released a sob, throwing open the ajar door and bursting onto the rooftop, surrounded by white stars dotted across the midnight sky like salt thrown across a black cloth. Takoda was standing at the far end of the concrete roof, Samuel Brocklyn at the other. A silver gun glimmered in the latter's hand.
Ace appeared in her peripheral vision, eyes taking in the scene before him with astonishment.
She screamed, too late.
The bullet was fired, and Takoda's caramel eyes flew wide. He crumpled as she was jolted into action. She dropped down beside him, dimly registering Samuel's retreating back as he escaped. She brushed a hand against his bloodstained chest, disbelieving that it was his blood that was smeared across her hand.
"No, no, no," she sobbed, her voice rising in panic and fear. "Takoda! TAKODA!"
Ace's arms enclosed her, pulling her against him as she screamed wordlessly, tears streaming down her face. She struggled, but he held her firmly, trying to soothe her.
Takoda's eyes were glazed, unseeing as her tears stained his cheeks.
"TAKODA!"
CIRI DIDN'T KNOW how long they sat there - she sobbing hysterically and him just holding her, rocking her, promising her it would be fine. Even though it wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't.
Liar.
"Liar," she mumbled, and he froze.
"What?" he asked quietly.
"Let go of me!" she shouted, shoving against him. He released her and she tumbled onto the cold concrete. She swiped at the tears beneath her eyes. "You could have saved him," she accused. "You could have used a shield...you could have saved him!"
Her scream echoed across the deserted expanse. Almost deserted. She was here. Ace was here. And Takoda's corpse was here.
She crawled over to his body, dragging it onto her lap, holding it like she had held the porcelain doll her mother had given her for her sixth birthday. Stroking his face like she had traced the blushing swirls on the doll. Tousling his golden hair like she had wound her fingers in the doll's yellow locks. Holding her hand against his ice cold cheeks like she had pressed her fingers against the doll's dead, unfeeling, uncaring face.
"Ciri..."
She held Takoda closer, screwing her eyes shut and cringing away from the hand that Ace outstretched towards her. "Go away," she whispered.
"Ciri, I-"
"Go away!" she shouted, and was answered ten-fold by her echo. Ace left.
Ciri kissed Takoda's forehead, rocking back and forwards, singing a lullaby her mother used to sing to soothe her, to help her to fall alseep. To help her enter a dreamworld where pictures of death and blood didn't taint everything with crimson paint. Takoda had to enter his own dreamworld now. He had to sleep. Let him sleep.
"Let me sleep," she breathed into his hair.
ACE SLUMPED AGAINST the door, hands on his head. Ciri was in pain, he could see it clearly. And she hadn't wanted his help. Had flinched at his touch.
Did she hate him?
"What happened?" Roarke asked quietly, and Ace looked up. The older boy was leaning on the back of the couch.
Ace swallowed, looking away. "Brocklyn found us. He... he killed Takoda. Shot him."
Roarke was silent.
"Ciri's up there," he continued. "Crying."
"Why aren't you up there with her?"
"Because she didn't want me!" he shouted, eyes blazing as they fixed on Roarke.
He leaned his head back against the door, eyes closed. The way she had glared at him, struggled against him...
"I'm scared for her," he whispered. "I hate her to be like this... in so much pain. I want to help her, make her happier. How do I do it?"
"She needs to mourn," Roarke said quietly, eyes fixed on a distant memory. "When my father died, I drowned my sorrow in alcohol. I don't think Ciri would do that. She's stronger than I was. I don't know what she'll do, really. I barely know her."
Ace bit his lip. "It's my fault, and she knows it. I was fighting with Takoda just before he stormed off. I could have put a shield up to try and stop the bullet. I could have saved him, saved her. But now..."
"What were you two talking about?"
"Ciri when she was younger. How she was teased and Takoda was the only one who stood up for her. He was her only friend. You can see why she's so devastated. Then Takoda mentioned how she managed to create a diversion so I could escape. She killed Gregory and handed herself in. Probably killed him out of revenge..."
Ace froze, something clicking in his mind.
"I could see her doing that," Roarke said with a chuckle. "She wouldn't take anyone hurting her friends lightly."
"No," Ace murmured. "She wouldn't."
He leapt up, propelled into action by fear. He jerked the door open, racing up the stairs at the end of the hallway and emerging onto the roof.
Roarke stepped out behind him, surprised. "What was that about?"
"She's not here," Ace commented numbly.
The rooftop was deserted but for the two boys and Takoda's body.
"Then where is she?" Roarke asked.
Ace swallowed. "She went after Brocklyn."
CIRI HAULED HERSELF over the wrought-iron fence, keeping low in the bushes. Her hand was steady on her sword as she drew it. She glanced around, her keen eyes searching for signs of life. There were none.
She threw a glance at the front doors. They stood open, welcoming, inviting. He was expecting her.
Ciri rose, not bothering with stealth anymore, and made her way up the marble steps. Her footsteps echoed dimly in the wide hall as she stepped into the foyer.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she hissed under her breath, and was rewarded with two men leaping from the shadows. Strength Demons. She stabbed forwards, piercing the lower abdomen of the first. The second reached for her arm, craving broken bones and blood, but she sidestepped, slitting his throat.
Her eyes flickering around rapidly, she moved forwards into the shadows of the hall.
She froze in the hallway, staring straight ahead at the man who smiled back at her. The dim light from within the room shone on his bare head, casting shadows on his face. She didn't need light to know that he could not bare his teeth at her in a grin. They were sewn shut.
He stepped backwards, closing the two wooden doors. Fury filled her, and she was propelled into action. She raced down the shadowed hallway, her free hand closing on the cold doorknob and wrenching it open.
Ciri hesitated, transfixed, in the doorway. The room within was a dizzying clash of white and black. Geometric patterns swam before her eyes, fluctuating. She struggled to balance properly, and barely noticed the other Demons within the room. Her eyes, quickened from training and her power, darted around once, drinking in as much detail as possible.
Brocklyn was sitting on a black and white armchair, dressed entirely in black. It matched his lip-thread, she noted maliciously. Two men - no, one man and one teenager - stood to each side of him. The first had a shock of blonde hair and the other, younger Demon had chestnut curls. From their light, lean frames, she assumed that they were Speed Demons.
A girl slightly older than Ciri stood behind Brocklyn. Her hair was a silver that blended nicely with the walls, with one strand of blonde. Her eyes, however, were a bright gold, narrowed in vicious pleasure. Another man in his late twenties, leaning against the disorienting walls, had a blonde fringe that hung across his eyes, the restrained in a short ponytail.
She didn't have time to notice anyone else as the Speed Demon with blonde hair shot forwards. She was close enough to see his sea blue eyes before she realised that he was there. She leaned back, ducking as his backhand narrowly missed her cheek. She drove her sword forwards, but he moved, backtracking two metres, out of range.
She bent low, ready to dive away or attack as she gripped her sword firmly. The Speed Demon charged, and she twisted, leaping aside as she raked her sword across the back of his calf. He cried out in pain, dropping to one knee as she hit the floor awkwardly.
Her eyes met his for a second, and an image flickered across her view. Him on his back, eyes glazed and blank, an endlessly calm ocean. There was a sword wound in his chest.
She squeezed her eyes shut, disoriented, and held her sword firmly with two hands. He leapt at her, rage on his face, and she tilted her sword up.
Ciri panted, rolling over and shoving the man off of her as she staggered to her feet. He landed on his back, and she swallowed, turning away. The vision of his death burned in her mind.
She turned as a two new Demons stepped forwards. The left was a Strength Demon, well-built and physically intimidating. The right was an Intelligence Demon, slight and physically unthreatening, but for the sword that glimmered in his hand.
If she swung out at the sword-bearer, their swords would clash and the Strength Demon could grab her. If she attacked the Strength Demon, she'd get a sword in her side. They were the perfect duo.
Ciri stood her ground, on the defensive. The sword-bearer's sword swung towards her, and she ducked, sliding her sword across the Strength Demon's stomach. Her head throbbed, producing two more visions, and she cried out in pain. The sword in the Strength Demon's ribcage, and the Intelligence Demon unconcious on the floor.
The Strength Demon leapt back, away from her sword as the Intelligence Demon retreated, sword pointed at her and ready to strike. She jerked forwards - a feint - and the sword-bearer reacted instantly. He drove his weapon forwards, realising too late that it was a feint, as she grabbed his swordhand. The Strength Demon ran forwards, and she bent the Intelligence Demon's wrist back, earning a scream from him and the crack of broken bones. The sword slid into the Strength Demon's ribs as the Intelligence Demon dropped to his knees. The larger of the two flailed, hand finding a hold on the weaker's neck, and clung to it, praying for survival - a safety bouy to haul him from the darkness that plagued his vision. Both slumped back, dead.
Not unconcious, Ciri thought as she swallowed uncomfortably. She only saw deaths.
Before she could prepare for the next attacker, a closed fist slammed into her temple. She fell back, dizzy, and hit her head against the wall. Her vision swam - the disorienting room not helping her focus - as the other Speed Demon appeared a metre from her.
And then, the room exploded.
The doors burst in, tearing free of their hinges and knocking a few Demons unconcious. The Speed Demon was back in front of Brocklyn, shielding him, as Ace stepped into the room.
And he was pissed.
His black hair was a mess, and his emerald eyes blazed against his pale complexion as he raised his hands, palms towards them. He looked like some angel sent straight from hell. Ciri could almost imagine the black wings sprouting from his shoulder blades.
Beside him prowled a russet-coloured wolf, a single lock of white hair on it's forehead. It bared it's teeth, snarling as it advanced.
But the man leaning against the wall stood up, raising his own palms, his blonde fringe swinging in front of his eyes.
"Ace!" Ciri screamed. "Shield!"
Thank God he obeyed. The blonde man's forcewall slammed into Ace's shattering it, but it disappaited. Ace narrowed his eyes, slamming the man back into the wall. He let out a gasp, but climbed quickly to his feet as Roarke sank his teeth into the chestnut-haired Speed Demon.
Ciri staggered to her feet, but doubled over, images flashing, one after another. They set her head on fire, promising blood and weapons and blank unseeing eyes...
She had to help Ace.
She pushed herself upright, struggling to maintain her balance, and stumbled towards them, raising her hands. It was easier to channel power through her nerves, like a Deflection Demon such as Ace. She sent out a pulsing wave of darkness that caught the attacking Demons off guard for a moment, before they resumed their battle.
And there, amid the chaos and mayhem around him, sat Brocklyn. Smiling.
Once final vision hit her before she ran forwards, sword at the ready. She raised her faithful katana over her head, and brought it down towards Takoda's murderer's head.
Out of the corner of her eye, she realised that Roarke wasn't fighting anymore. He had been thrown across the room and was staggering to his feet, dazed.
She realised what was going to happen only seconds before it did.
The chestnut-haired Speed Demon's hand closed on her wrist, jerking her to a halt, before he kneed her in the stomach. She cried out, briefly closing her eyes as she fell back. He wrenched the sword from her grasp and turned it on her, prepared to kill.
"CIRI!"
Ace had seen. He had turned, hands swinging around to face the Speed Demon. The bastard holding her sword was blown off his feet as Ace hit him with a forcewall. Relief flooded Ciri, before she noticed what Ace had not.
The Deflection Demon with the ponytail was still attacking, and Ace - his attention diverted - was open.
"No!" she screamed, eyes wide with horror as an image, more agonising that the rest, burst in her view, shielding the her eyes from the chaos.
Too late. Once again, too late.
Ace's eyes grew wide as he dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat. The Deflection Demon laughed, but the sound never reached Ciri's ears. Ace was choking, being strangling to death. Unable to drag air past the shield in his throat.
Her scream pierced the air, filling her ears as his eyes rolled back, his arms going limp as he slumped. She couldn't take it. Not anymore.
Visions exploded from her. Deaths and murderers and corpses burst from her, flooding the room and startling everyone, dragging their attention to her curse, her visions.
This is how you die, she thought visciously, painting the words in red across their view. She crawled, weak and nauseous, to Ace's side.
"Ace," she whispered, eyes filling for the second time that night. She cradled his face in her hands, shaking him, pleading with him, begging him.
Please, please, please get up.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
Strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, and she clutched Ace to her chest, anger rising in her, ready to strike out at her attacker...
Roarke grabbed Ace, slinging him over one shoulder and dragging her up roughly by the arm. She stumbled after him, eyes swimming and vision blurring.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
How long until I'm gone? she wondered.
Roarke was on a mobile, shouting into the mouthpiece as she clung to his shirt, letting him be her guide. Where was her light in the darkness that descended upon her? Her guardian angel to carry her up, out of the darkness.
But her light was gone. Takoda was gone, dead.
Her angel...her brave, avenging, beautiful angel couldn't carry her, couldn't lift her into his arms. He had fallen, fallen as the darkness consumed him.
Let her be with him. Let this darkness take them both to a better place, a happier place.
Ciri let go, and the darkness consumed her.
