The noonday sun limned the Woods of War in gold as Kalanie leapt from the portal. She landed silently, her knees bent to cushion the impact. A heartbeat later, Hiei materialized at her side, his cloak swirling.

A breeze rustled through the leaves overhead, setting the branches dancing like a sea of flames, red and orange foliage whispering like the forbearers of war. Beyond the wind's murmur, silence had settled over the underbrush, a lull seizing the creatures that inhabited the forest's dark nooks and hidden crannies.

Perhaps woodland fauna sensed Yusuke and his army half-a-day's run away. Perhaps Kalanie and Hiei had been enough to startle them into concealment. Or perhaps there was something in the air, some tension in the very fabric of the worlds themselves, some signal that today would decide the future of not just Kalanie or Nomi or Hiei, but of every being in the three worlds.

The truth of that certainty had nestled in her chest for hours. It had kept her up long after Hiei had bid her good night, and it had been the first thought to greet her when she woke just after dawn.

If the same realization haunted Hiei, he didn't show it.

One hand on the hilt of his katana, he surveyed the glen they'd landed in. She could practically see the calculations running behind his cunning eyes, and as the portal flickered out of existence at her back, he jerked his chin as if he'd confirmed something then shifted his attention east.

"We're ten miles from the facility. The oaf actually delivered on his promise."

"You don't give Kuwabara enough credit."

"Hn." Hiei glanced sidelong at her, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I've fought with him for six years. I give him precisely the credit he's earned."

The anxiety twining through her ribs kept her from summoning a smile of her own, and she dipped her head to avoid his gaze, focusing instead on her iron gloves. With a press of energy, she urged the steel coating her fingers to peel back.

Black ink waited beneath. It stained her skin dark as midnight, a noxious poison that sunk through her flesh and dug hooks into her soul. But not for much longer. One way or another, she wouldn't bear these marks come tomorrow. By her death or Masaru's, the Sovereign Binds would run their course.

She'd accept nothing else.

"Ready?"

Iron rolled back over her fingers. She looked up. "Lead on."

Their orders from Kurama were clear, cut like perfect crystal. Raid the facility holding the Shells. Kill its guards. Slay its puppeteers. Save Nomi.

Compared to the objective laid before Yusuke and his forces, their task was simple. The research facility was unguarded, and a sweep of Hiei's Jagan confirmed only a dozen puppets served as sentries in the Woods of War. This was no siege on Taku's fortress. That job had been left to Yusuke.

In under an hour, the half-breed would lead a charge against the stronghold where Masaru had held Kalanie captive. Yomi and Mukuro would be at his side, the rest of their forces a step behind.

Kurama intended to utilize the weakness she's spotted weeks ago—the arched exit from the fortress's inner courtyard. If they hit it hard enough, fast enough, Taku's puppet army would be trapped within, bottlenecked in that too narrow archway. Yusuke would be able to pick them apart, he and his fighters swapping out for fresh reinforcements as needed, the puppets' ability to reach them sorely limited by the confines of the very same wall meant to protect them.

Not a fair fight. Not by any means.

But then, since when had Taku fought fair?

In the end, it wouldn't matter anyway. Yusuke's fate was independent from hers now. Everything Kalanie cared about was here, in this quiet stretch of forest, far to the east of Taku's stronghold.

Nomi.

Hiei.

Masaru.

Whatever fate awaited her would be sealed long before their distant allies might reach this place. If she wanted to save Nomi, she couldn't count on back up. His rescuer would be her or Hiei or no one at all.

They would have to be enough.

The guard stood at attention, his hulking frame occupying the cramped space between the tree trunks. The bright sunlight burnished his leathery scales. It granted him the appearance of armor, as if his flesh was formed of molten bronze not unlike the iron flowing across Kalanie's arms.

But those scales did little to block Hiei's katana.

The blade sheared through the puppet's throat, severing his jugular in a single fluid stroke. A breath later, the demon tumbled to his knees then slumped into the dirt.

He was dead in seconds.

Kalanie and Hiei moved on.

Hiei traced the next puppet into a glade, and they snuck upon the woman as she clambered from a tree. No doubt she'd been surveying the surrounding territory, performing some menial appraisal in conjunction with one of Masaru's flippant whims.

Too bad she hadn't spotted her death in time.

Fast as a lightning strike, Kalanie gutted her, dragging a knife up from her navel. The iron cleaved through her chest, carving her in two. A death's rattle burbled from the puppet's lips, and Kalanie jerked her iron free as the demon went still.

With a quiet grunt, Hiei melded back into the trees. Kalanie followed.

Not once did she look back.

Seven more puppets fell in quick succession.

Blood coated Hiei's katana from hilt to tip, a crimson stain that dripped across his fingers and marred the crisp bandages obscuring his dragon. Behind them, three daggers already lay abandoned in the underbrush, their iron half-rusted, weakened beneath the insatiable pull of Kalanie's energy, but she clutched a fourth, its sharp edge newly forged.

Only three guards remained.

They'd be gone soon enough.

By now, Masaru must've realized his puppets were dying. With each one that passed on to Spirit World, shreds of his power would return to him. The bits he'd stowed in the Sovereign Binds might not amount to much individually, but the return of nine puppets' worth would be noticeable.

Which meant there was no time to waste. The quicker the last guards were dead, the quicker they could make their move on the facility.

It was that thought that kept Kalanie dogged at Hiei's heels, trailing his blurred afterimage through the trees. Three more targets. Then Masaru.

And Nomi.

And freedom.

Crouched behind the trunk of a broad tree, Hiei hissed, "The one on the left is yours. I'll handle the other two."

Frowning, Kalanie studied the target he'd assigned her. "These three are stronger than the others. And alert. Masaru must've warned them."

"Hn. Too little. Too late."

She gripped her knife tighter. "As soon as they're dead, break for the facility. We need to get my brother before Masaru mobilizes any secondary forces nearby."

"I know the plan."

Of course he did, but repeating it stilled the trembles in her fingers. It gave her purpose, reminded her of their immediate goals. They were close now. So close. But it could all still fall apart. She wasn't fool enough to think otherwise.

"After you," she whispered.

Hiei cast her one final look, his eyes blazing. With rage. With the cold, calculated killing calm of a warrior born to battle. But with something else, too. Something meant just for her. If not for the blood splattered across his cheek and crusted over his arms, she might have thought it affection.

But affection had no place here. Not in these death-riddled woods.

Yet he reached for her, his bloodied knuckles grazing her gloved wrist. Then his jaw flexed, his focus darting back toward the trio of puppets.

Nearly too fast for her to follow, Hiei streaked from their hiding place, his katana singing as he brought it sweeping downward. The cut should've been a clean, killing blow, but at the last second, his target sidestepped, swinging up an arm and catching the blade. It deflected off the puppet's forearm, screeching against what might've been stone rather than flesh.

Her own weapon clutched tight, Kalanie surged from the underbrush. Her heart beat like a war drum, raging in her temples as she collided with her assignment. Claws sprouted from the woman's hands, bursting from her knuckles. They gleamed like steel, and sparks flew as Kalanie's dagger skidded across their curves.

Hiei was a blur of black. He flickered through the clearing, battering against his targets in an unrelenting torrent of attacks, but they fended him off at every turn. Each seemed armored, their bodies hewn from stone instead of flesh and blood.

Kalanie's puppet took a different tactic. While her companions fought defensively, staving off Hiei's blows with dogged endurance, the clawed demon launched a vicious onslaught of her own. Kalanie fell back before it, her dagger quickly giving way to rust as she drew on its power to reinforce her arms and hold the puppet at bay.

In a battle of brute strength, Kalanie would never win. Between her considerable size advantage and the compulsions driving her muscles, the puppet would overpower her sooner than later.

So a change of plan was in order.

Ducking the puppet's claws, Kalanie bolted into the trees. In the open, size and strength was a benefit, but in the sun-dappled undergrowth, quickness proved far more valuable.

Kalanie tossed aside her rusted dagger, and as she wove deeper between the trunks, she willed a new blade to take shape. Her iron armor was wearing thin, too much of it used to craft her weapons, but it would be enough for now—for this last death.

Ducking beneath a low hanging branch, she whirled back, her knife raised. The puppet wasn't ready. Her footing slipped in the rotting leaves. She stumbled and threw out a hand to halt her fall. Her claws raked across a tree, their vicious points imbedded in the oak. She snarled and jerked free—but it was too late. Kalanie thrust her dagger deep, sliding it deftly between the puppet's ribs.

A scream echoed through the forest. Piercing. Desperate. But as Kalanie stepped back, the woman's wails gave way to whimpers. She thudded to her knees, her claws withdrawing back into her knuckles.

Blood bubbled at the corner of her lips as she stared up at Kalanie. Her eyes fluttered shut, then flickered open once more. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice all but carried away on a breeze.

Kalanie winced. "Don't thank me. Just go. Find peace in Spirit World."

The ghost of a smile brightened the demon's face, but quick as it came, it faded. Torment replaced it. The puppet bucked her head, her gaze roving wildly beyond Kalanie's shoulder. "You—" A gurgling cough interrupted her.

Gritting her teeth, Kalanie readied her dagger. This was too much. Too cruel. She knelt, preparing to slit the demon's throat and end her misery, but the puppet caught her wrist. "Go. Run!"

Kalanie heard it then, the thunder of footsteps, the cracking of twigs and crunching of leaves. Intruders. More guards? Had Masaru already summoned reinforcements?

She lurched upright, twisting back toward the clearing where she'd left Hiei, but she discovered the path blocked, half-a-dozen puppets arrayed amongst the trees. Their energy signals were weak. Far weaker than hers. But six was too many for her to take at once. She lacked Hiei's speed, and even her best attacks paled next to the breadth of damage his could inflict.

She staggered back. Her heel caught on the woman she'd felled, and Kalanie tumbled.

At once, the puppets advanced. Sovereign Binds wove across their outstretched arms, black as death. Cursing, Kalanie shoved to her feet and ran. Branches whipped past, clawing at her exposed flesh, and the brushwood tangled around her ankles, seeking to trip her, to yank her balance away and send her sprawling.

She pushed harder. Fast as she could. Sprinting and sprinting in a bid to outrace her pursuers.

If she could lose them, even for a moment, she could circle back toward Hiei. Together, they could stave off any number of puppets—or so she had to believe.

But where had these new enemies come from? Hiei had swept the woods with his Jagan, and Kalanie had confirmed his conclusions with a check of her own. Only a dozen guards had been close. Had she used her senses only, she might've believed she could miss a handful of low-class demons, but the Jagan wasn't so easily duped.

So how? How had Masaru done it?

Somewhere in her wake, Hiei's energy spiked. Perhaps he'd realized she'd gone missing. Or perhaps Masaru had besieged him with puppets, too. Either way, he was beyond her reach.

Gritting her teeth, Kalanie pressed her legs to new limits, ignoring the screaming burn in her thighs and calves. Her path drew her west—away from not just Hiei, but the Shells' facility as well. In theory, Masaru would be safely housed inside its walls, but her gut told her that wasn't the case.

He wasn't one to wait. He didn't enjoy sitting back and twiddling his thumbs. Not when the object of his desire was close at hand. And if the puppets swarming through the trees were anything to go by, he must not be far off.

Their numbers had swelled to a full dozen now, and they herded her like a sheep dragged in fresh for the slaughter. As she rounded the sprawling root system of a massive tree, a snake demon burst from the underbrush, his scaled hands grabbing for her. Snarling, she slashed her knife across his outstretched wrists. The steel shredded through his Sovereign Binds, but he carried on nonetheless, lurching after her as she spun and ran anew.

Diverging from Hiei had been an error. A mistake. One she might pay for dearly.

She should've fought her way to him, inferior numbers be damned. He'd been her safety net. Yet like a fool, she'd let the puppets divert her, and now she was vulnerable, an all too easy target for Masaru to control.

Golden sunlight lanced through a break in the trees ahead. Another clearing awaited, and she raced for it. Running had proved a poor decision. Fighting was the only recourse left.

So fight she would.

Now. Before Masaru robbed her of that choice.

As the trees parted overhead, she whirled and tossed her dagger. It struck true, embedding itself in the snake demon's eye socket, stopping him dead. He collapsed, but the others carried on, surging from the trees, a ragtag band of weaklings.

She called on her iron, and it flowed up her legs, leaving them bare of the armor that had protected her thus far. The new dagger was already weakened, rust flaking from its edges, but it was all she had.

It would have to do.

She called on every trick she'd ever learned, every technique she'd picked up during her training at the temple. Her kicks contained Chu's wild fury. Her punches channeled Jin's tornado fists. Any time she managed to gain a bit of distance, she hurled iron stars mimicking Touya's winds of winter.

Two puppets went down. Then a third. A fourth.

Yet they kept coming. Seven more harried her defenses. Too many to be held off for long. Too many for her to defeat alone.

It was a brutish beast of a creature who struck the defining blow. His fist caught her across the jaw, slamming her to her knees as stars burst in her vision. The world spun, the blades of grass crushed beneath her fingers blurring into a green sea. The brute lashed out again. His boot shattered into her ribs, knocking her breath from her lungs. She curled inward, her arms closing protectively over her head, braced for the next assault.

It never came.

"Back off, all of you."

Hell.

Not now.

Not like this.

Grass rustled as the puppets retreated. Their feet hovered at the edge of her vision, forming an arc along the clearing's edge—a guard detail. On the lookout for Hiei in all likelihood.

Her rattled senses managed to latch on to his signal, somewhere in the distance. But he was too far off to matter. Not even his speed could get him here in time to stop Masaru's next words.

"Kal."

She sank her teeth into her lip and clawed her way to her knees. Her nails dug into the dirt.

His impeccable dress shoes swam into her vision. "I knew you'd come back."

He left his implication hanging. That she'd come for him. That she couldn't stay away from him. Even now he was still clinging to that delusion. Convincing himself he was something more than her monstrous captor.

"Not for you," she hissed.

His shoes stopped mere feet ahead of her. If she reached out, she could've touched his toes.

She didn't so much as look up.

"Did you imagine you might mount a rescue?" he asked. His shoes shifted, his weight rocking onto the balls of his feet as he sank into a crouch. "Did you think you and the Jaganshi would be enough to overcome me? Truly, Kal? I thought you were smarter than that."

She spat on his shoes.

For perhaps the first time in all the years she'd known him, his composure well and truly cracked. His knuckles collided with her cheekbone. The blow sent her sprawling into the dirt, and the sticky warmth of fresh blood dripped down her jaw.

"I've grown tired of this game, Kalanie. You bore me."

Dragging her wrist across her bloodied cheek, she sat up and took him in. On the surface, he was the same as ever. Charcoal slacks. Collared shirt. Angular nose. But she spotted the cracks fissuring through his façade. His hair—normally gelled to tousled perfection—lacked its usual finish. Strands hung into his mud-brown eyes, drawing attention to the gauntness in his features.

And despite all his claims to the opposite, he watched her not with boredom, but with rage. Desperate, all-consuming anger. And maybe, hidden beneath that roiling hatred, the same desire he'd always harbored—the need to break her, the impulse to shatter her mind the way he had so many others.

Schooling her features to utter calm, she rose to her knees. Her voice came steady, giving away nothing of the terror wrapping bony fingers around her heart. "Liar."

His backhand came again.

This time she was ready. She caught his wrist and jerked him to a halt.

"Release me," he snapped.

Her hold loosened. He tugged free.

But her point had been made, and it had shaken him to his core. Feverish intensity gripped him as he lurched upright. "Get up."

She stood. "How did you hide these puppets? Why didn't we sense them?"

His eyes narrowed. "Quiet—"

She spoke over him, interrupting before the compulsion could take hold. "Answer the question. You have me now. What's left to hide?" Curling her hands into fists, she stepped forward. Though he tensed, he didn't back away. "Where did these puppets come from?"

He sneered, his overly plain features twisting into an ugly mask. "There were wards on the lab. While they were within those walls, my puppets were beyond your senses."

"So you knew we were here."

"I'm no fool, Kal."

Maybe not.

But she had been.

Taking out the guards had been her idea. There'd been no guarantee Kuwabara would be available to open a portal the moment they rescued Nomi. If he weren't, they needed an escape route, and those guards had stood in their way. Kalanie had thought killing them was a necessary evil—the only way to guarantee a smooth escape.

But in readying their getaway, they'd overplayed their hand. She'd walked into Masaru's trap. Yet again.

And her attempts to stall him were failing. Hiei still felt beyond reach, his signal distant, lost in the trees. He'd moved since the last time she'd sensed for him, but not closer. His path had taken him north, and even as she tried to get a lock on his location, he changed routes, heading east—not west as she had.

Masaru's sneer faded. His usual smile slid into place in its stead. "Looking for the Jaganshi, are you, Kal?"

She offered no answer, but if her silence fazed him, he hid it well.

"He won't find us," Masaru said. His hand delved into his pocket. When it reemerged, he cradled a slender device. Its screen flashed vivid green, a dot blinking at its center. "A signal obscurer. At this moment, a transmitter ten miles east of here is mimicking our auras. One press of a button and those signals will move another five miles north. I could run the Jaganshi in circles if I so pleased."

He chuckled. The single, solitary laugh rang through the clearing.

In its wake, she braced for panic to rise in her chest. She tensed against the onslaught of fear she'd by all rights earned. She anticipated her throat to close with the broken, desperate sobs that had hovered at the edge of her nightmares for years.

None of that came.

Instead, only the emptiness of failure filled her hollow places. After everything—all her efforts, all Kurama's careful planning, all the detectives' risks—she'd still botched this final, most crucial step.

Nomi remained beyond her reach.

Masaru had her once more. Yet again, she was his slave. Maybe it was her destiny. Maybe no matter how many times she escaped his clutches, she would always end up back here, fighting against his fog. Maybe it was inevitable.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

AN: Kalanie's plans always seem to go awry, huh? I'm running out of time to torment her, so I've got to get in my last few jabs! Any guesses on how/if she'll get out of this mess?

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You all rock!