Chapter 11

Just as time had slowed down impossibly for Maia in the torturous, terrifying dungeon of Jack O'Meara's mansion, time sped up again in the back of Tamsin's black, beat-up truck.

Some time while they had been battling for their lives in the dank stone halls below ground, a torrential downpour had started. It drenched them as they fled O'Meara's house of terrors, pelted them with heavy, icy drops as they raced to the car and tore the doors open. Tamsin cranked up the heat after starting the engine, gravel scattered beneath the heavy treads of her tires as they peeled out of the driveway, steam rose from their hot skin and formed a film of blood-tinted perspiration on the windows and windshield of the car.

Not long after the truck trundled back onto the highway and their heartbeats had settled somewhat, Seth died in the arms of the woman that had loved her enough to risk her life to bring her home. Maia cried quietly, clutching the Seer's dead body close. She didn't feel the hot tears slide down her cheeks, only saw them as they dripped onto the filthy skin of the woman she held, leaving clean, pale tracks across the blood, dirt and pus that had cracked and dried. Tamsin and Dyson were both too concerned with navigating the slick streets and worrying about their own physical injuries to hear her. And by the time they slowed to a stop in the alleyway that the Dal's entrance opened to, she was done.

Wordlessly, they piled out of the truck. Dyson led the way, pulling the door open so that Tamsin and Maia could carry Seth's body inside. The rain pounded a steady, icy beat into their skin. Trick's pale face bobbed at the threshold, his features anxious and impatient, and waited while Tamsin squeezed through the doorframe, holding Seth's legs in her arms. Maia followed after, Seth's shoulders clutched to her own and the Seer's head lolling lifelessly on Maia's shoulder. Dyson edged in last, scrubbing his face tiredly as he allowed the door to slide closed.

"Where's Bo?" Trick demanded, his brown eyes darting from Dyson to the door that didn't turn on its hinges to admit the rest of the group that had set out earlier that day.

Dyson didn't respond, only hung his head, his eyebrows knit tightly together, and exhaled heavily. Anger and dread flashed across the Blood King's face, and he tore the door to the Dal open again and thrust his head out, searching the darkness for any sign of his granddaughter, of Lauren, of Kenzi.

After a long minute, Trick finally pulled his head back in and let the door slam shut once again. He glared at Dyson, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks reddening at the betrayal that had left him speechless with fury. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his graying hair stuck matted to his forehead and neck, where the rain had plastered it to his skin, and finally, he hissed at the Wolf that stood shamefacedly before him.

"Why isn't she with you, Dyson?! I told you to bring her home!" his voice rose to a shout, and Dyson cringed against the waves of seething anger and condemnation that emanated from him. Though Dyson was the much taller man of the two, he seemed to shrink in stature before the imposing figure of the Blood King and his furious, wilting gaze.

"She turned Dark, Trick," Maia's exhausted voice came from deeper within the Dal. She and Tamsin had settled Seth onto a couch, they both dripped all over the scuffed wooden floors and shivered in the cold air. The bedraggled human spoke matter of factly, and met Trick's intense brown eyes without trepidation. Any sense of intimidation she ought to have felt under the Blood King's terrifying glare had been used up not more than an hour ago, before Seth died, and their attempt to rescue her and Lauren had failed so miserably. Carefully, she unraveled her leather jacket from where she'd tied it around her cast and checked it for damp spots. With Lauren still trapped in Jack O'Meara's dungeon, Maia didn't know who else might bother to recast her badly broken arm and wrist for her if this cast were damaged.

"Excuse me?" Trick turned away from Dyson and took long, aggressive strides toward the disheveled human leaning against the couch's arm. Tamsin stepped between them, sending the barkeep a warning glare, and Trick paused for a moment, closed his eyes, and struggled to gather his composure around him like a blanket.

"We could use some fresh towels, Trick. Somehow, I don't think a pool in everyone's favorite way-station would go over well, and I think we'd both like to dry off," Tamsin spoke drily, still wary of the man that clenched his jaw and whistled sharply through his teeth at them. Trick gave a sharp nod, finally managing to pick up the last shreds of his patience and self-possession, then turned and stalked to the partially hidden door that led down to his lair.

Dyson raised his face and gave both Tamsin and Maia calculating looks.

"I'll go pick up some dry clothes for us," he offered. Tamsin pulled her car keys out of her pocket and chucked them at the brooding Wolf, who caught them dexterously.

"Pick something up for Maia, too, from my place. She's about my size," the Valkyrie turned to assess the truth of her statement, sizing the exhausted girl up with her faded green eyes. Dyson didn't reply, only shoved the door open again, squared his shoulders, and pushed himself on into the pouring rain. He disappeared into the dark, spitting outdoors almost instantly in a haze of fading light and color.

Maia sighed, her eyes still swollen and red from the tears she'd shed, and tugged at Seth's limp shoulders to settle herself on the couch with the Seer's head cradled carefully into her lap. Absently, she brushed the dripping silver locks out of Seth's closed eyes and across her forehead, a motion meant, no doubt, to be more soothing to the human than to the dead, unresponsive Fae.

Tamsin took this moment of rare privacy to evaluate herself, and her feelings toward the stubborn woman grieving before her. Like most Fae, especially those aligned with the Dark like herself, Tamsin regarded humans as little more than domesticated animals, like sheep, only waiting patiently to be used and slaughtered for food. It was rare that, and had been decades since, she'd regarded one as anything more. For centuries, humans had been a weak race, pathetic and mewling. Only seldom had a warrior or a soldier proven himself worthy of the notice of the Valkyries. True warriors were hard to come by, especially as the human race degenerated into wretched, pitiful creatures, too entirely dependent upon their own technologies to navigate the world around them in their absence.

But through all of the hardships delivered to her in such a short period of time, Maia had endured, without complaint. She'd battled against her own fear, her own innate weakness, with an admirable sense of dedication, to achieve her worthy goals. She'd done nothing less than shoulder her burdens silently and push onward from the moment Tamsin had met her, and a respect for the unrelenting human had developed within the Valkyrie.

Her intimate ties with Tamsin's past with Seth, and her compassionate perception had also given way to a sense of closeness, to a connection that Tamsin was still struggling to understand and put words to, before the door to Trick's home flew open and the barkeep emerged from its dim interior with towels piled in his hands. Vex followed closely after, scowling at the bundle of towels in his own arms.

"There's a sight I never thought I'd see, the infamous Mesmer playing housewife," Tamsin grinned at Vex, accepting the soft, dry towels he tossed in her direction. The Mesmer curled his lip in distaste and annoyance at her and stuffed his hands deep into his tight pockets.

"Well don't let me subject you to it any longer than I must," he retorted. A wicked smile flashed across his lips, dark eyes glinting with dark humor, "I hear you lost the Succu-lette."

Trick and Tamsin both threw him dirty looks, but otherwise ignored him. Tamsin only rubbed the back of her neck and her shoulders with the towel, it came back stained with blood from the injury she'd suffered from the pounding steel-clad fist that had battered the tender flesh behind her ear.

Trick, feeling a little remorseful for his outburst at Maia earlier, unraveled the towel in his own arms and moved to drape it across Maia's shoulders. The human flinched from the unexpected contact, then turned to offer up a half-smile in apology to the barkeep.

Divested of his offering of good will, Trick turned his solemn gaze on Tamsin, who still scrubbed herself with her towel in an effort to get as dry as possible.

"I need you to tell me everything that happened," he maneuvered himself behind the bar and pulled out a pair of shot glasses, "and don't leave anything out." A bottle of whiskey appeared in his hands, and he began pouring, two shots for the ladies to start with, to warm their insides and give them some small strength.

Tamsin moved to the bar, brows furrowing into a frown as she considered how to begin. Maia carefully rearranged Seth's head and shoulders back onto the couch, brushed her towel over the legs of her jeans, and followed. Her chucks squelched against the floor as she walked, and she settled herself precariously on the stool next to the Valkyrie's.

Trick pulled out a set of tumblers and began to fill them as well, a round for them all to help ease the tension and promote communication, and after downing her shot of the burning amber liquid, Tamsin began.

Even down here, deep in the mansion's darkest bowels, Isabeau could hear the steady, driving beat of the rain. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin, focused on the unforgiving drumming of the storm against the earth, against the wood and brick walls of the building, against the glass of its windows. Thunder growled, and if she listened closely enough, she could even hear the crack of lightning, could hear it sizzle where it struck the earth and singed it.

Slowly, she lowered her face. Her vibrant blue gaze flitted across the room, over the hard, rough stone floors that were pitted and stained with the blood of the recent skirmish, over the thick iron bars that walled the narrow passageway, over the bodies of the Redcaps, of Dolph, and of the Kitsune whose Chi she had drained and who lay in a pile of arms and legs against the furthest wall of her father's dungeon.

Walter had prepared this for her. He had separated the bodies of those dead by the Wolf and Valkyrie's hands and those dead by her own, had left the bloody and the mutilated in the cell with the human who still struggled to regain full consciousness and piled the rest outside.

Lauren shifted beneath the shadows, still slumped against the wall Isabeau had thrown her against. The slight sounds of her movement carried in an echo to the Succubus. With a gasp and a groan, the human stirred, waking finally and clutching her injured head between dirtied hands.

Best to do this quickly then. Isabeau regarded the slender, half-concealed figure that lay sprawled against the wall. The weak, pathetic creature had a hold on her, had power over her, and while Isabeau knew why, knowing and understanding were two totally separate things. The power that the human held over her was dangerous, and though Isabeau felt the unfathomable pull to stand and watch her, to study her movements, her expressions, her body, she knew that it would be her undoing. She had to work quickly.

Isabeau's effervescent azure eyes skipped over the mangled bodies that crowded the human's cage and came to rest over the intertwined limbs of those she'd come to awaken. She could pick out the powerful musculature that defined Dolph's arms, the petite, almost fragile outline of the Kitsune her father called Inari, and the more angular, gawky shape of the leader of the Redcaps that stuck out at odd angles and wound awkwardly around them both. They'd been heaped at the top, and they were the three Isabeau was most interested in.

Bless Walter and his considerate heart.

A thin smile played at the edges of Isabeau's lips. She stepped closer to them, careful to make little noise over the resonant stones beneath her booted feet, lest she alert the human to her presence.

"Bo," the dry whisper gave the Succubus pause, hesitance flickered across her features for an instant before resolution set in, and Isabeau knelt at the foot of the pile of the dead.

"Please," this time, Isabeau ignored the earnest murmur and focused on the erotic grins that stretched lifelessly across the faces of the three she'd come to revive. With delicate fingers and deceptive strength, the Succubus pulled them free of the mound upon which they rested and dragged them halfway across the floor.

She had to stiffen her shoulders against the pleading, insistent voice that slowly regained strength and focus in the cell beside her. Gently, she pulled the Redcap, the Bear, and the Kitsune apart from each other, and with her fingertips caressing their cold skin, parted her lips slowly in order to release the energy she had stolen from them.

Warm, violet light curled like smoke before her eyes, then swarmed around the faces of the bodies lying before her. The distinctive flavors of each intermingled in her mouth as they escaped: the Bear's wild, coppery tang, the salty, fishy bite of the Redcap's cold, pungent vitality, and the surprisingly sweet flavor of ripe blackberries that she had tasted in Inari's Chi not more than an hour ago.

The sound of Lauren's gathering cries fell away into the cracks between the stone bricks of the dungeon, overcome by the more immediate sensations of three hearts fluttering, then beating in cadence with the life-giving fourth. The heady thrill of blood stirring, then pumping through parched veins sent a sweet thrum across Isabeau's skin. The eerie, erogenous grins that cracked their faces relaxed, their expressions smoothing from the frozen smiles of the dead to the momentarily confused of the newly awakened.

The sensuously coiling ribbons of Chi that flowed slowly, amorously from Isabeau's mouth into their own thinned, then faded. Her Thralls blinked away their confusion, then stretched and gathered themselves, their expressions falling into the soft, sweet lines of shared adoration as they gazed at the blue-eyed beauty to whom they owed their lives, and their hearts. Dolph and Duncan were the first to rise, and Isabeau rose with them, staring at them in pleased satisfaction. In her attempt to stand, Inari stumbled, her legs still weak at the knees and her body still trembling with what felt, to her, like post-coital bliss. Isabeau caught her arm easily, and the Kitsune pulled herself up.

Out of her three new Thralls, she was the most interesting to watch. The raven hair she'd worn into death fell away, and thick ginger curls tumbled around her shoulders in their place. Her skin rippled as she fell nearly an inch in height and her delicate bones resettled. Freckles twinkled like stars as they scattered across her face, her shoulders and her chest. A deep green, almost as vibrant as Isabeau's blue, bled into her desaturated gray eyes. The image of Kenzi seemed to peel away, and in its place was the delicate shape of a finely boned, slender, green-eyed, red-headed girl. A wicked, impish grin bubbled across her features, and Inari leaned up onto her tiptoes to brush an adoring kiss to Isabeau's cheek.

"My Bo-Bo," she murmured, her hushed voice reverent and loving.

A scowl marred Isabeau's features. Her free arm blurred and the sharp crack of the slap she dealt her errant Thrall echoed unforgivingly in the cold, flickering torchlight of the prison.

"My name is Isabeau," the Succubus hissed. Inari gave a choked cry of pain, her hand rose to massage her cheek, her skin hot and reddening already with the harsh contact.

Then, with a sympathetic sigh, Isabeau covered Inari's hand with her own, bunching the fingers splayed over the slap mark and pulling them down to her side. Tears welled in Inari's eyes, and Isabeau pressed a soothing kiss to the Kitsune's forehead.

"Bo, please!" Lauren's cry finally shattered Isabeau's focus, and the Succubus spun to snarl at the human that crept along the floor of her cell, her head still held in one hand and a grimace of pain twisting her face. The sudden display of animosity froze the human doctor in her tracks, and Lauren stared up at the face of her lover, almost unrecognizable behind the mask of cruelty she wore now. A mangled sob escaped Lauren's lips as the Succubus and her Thralls turned their backs on her and strode out of the dungeon, their dissimilar footfalls perfectly in sync with one another's and totally indifferent to the concussed woman that begged and pleaded for the woman she called 'Bo'.

Maia allowed Tamsin to tell most of the story, only cutting in every so often to clarify a point, or to offer her own input. Having not been one of the participants in the bloody skirmish, she'd been able to witness Bo's change, the way the super-Succubus in her had burst out and inhaled the Chi from multiple bodies at once. She held very little back, only the things that Seth had whispered in her ear during the battle, the scattered, panicked words Lauren had rasped to her before Bo had thrown her into the wall. It was all incredibly pivotal to the resolution they were all looking for, but she didn't want to repeat herself, so she decided instead to wait until Dyson returned.

The Wolf rejoined them at the end of Tamsin's unembellished retelling. The Valkyrie accepted the bundle of clothes he offered them wordlessly, and the pair of them were sent down to Trick's lair to change, before any more discussion continued.

Dull pain flared across Maia's shoulder blades as she struggled to pull on a spotless white tank top. Though still painful, her injuries were healing, and the agony that had seared through her earlier in the morning was blunted, in spite of, or perhaps even because of, the incredible amounts of physical strain Maia put herself through. Her muscles felt weak, almost like jelly, but were warm with use. She felt that the swelling in her black eye might have also gone down. Her cast caught in the fabric of her shirt, and she fumbled clumsily to pull it through the armhole. Maia had been grateful to discover that it hadn't even gotten damp, shielded as it was first by Seth's own slender body doubled over it and then later by the coat she'd wrapped around it.

"There's something you're not telling us," Tamsin commented from behind her. She wore a guarded, almost suspicious expression on her face, as well as a dry pair of form-fitting jeans and a tight cotton blouse, whose color seemed a confused mix of tan and beige. She tugged on a bright blue jacket while she spoke, her faded green eyes watching Maia's pained movements scrutinizingly.

The human shrugged in response, stifling a grimace at the dull ache that spread across her shoulders. As much as she'd relished the distracting pain earlier that day, she prayed for the strength of body she would need in order to be of any use in bringing Bo, Lauren and Kenzi back safely.

"I'll tell you all everything. Let's just get back upstairs, okay?" the curly-haired brunette moved to push past Tamsin, but found herself blocked by an arm offering her a bright green jacket. Maia sighed tiredly and nodded, and allowed the Valkyrie to help her into it. Goose flesh had risen along Maia's cold arms, and the added layer was a welcome one. Then she led the way up the stairs to the Dal and Trick's, Dyson's and Vex's waiting ears.

The door that opened from Trick's home to the pub was wide open. But Maia found upon reaching the landing that Trick stood solidly in her way, blocking the threshold with his stocky body, his back to her. Maia peered over his shoulder and caught her breath in her throat at the sight of the Morrigan's curvy, sensual figure standing with her hips tilted and her arms across her chest and staring intently, grimly, at Trick.

Evony smiled, teeth flashing behind red-painted lips in a predatory grin, at the sight of Maia's pale face materializing from the dimness of the staircase.

"Speak of the devil," her voice was silky smooth. Fear tracked its cold finger down Maia's spine, though she willed her expression impassive.

"And the devil will come," Tamsin finished for her, pushing Maia aside gently in order to step between the Morrigan and her prey.

"Detective Tamsin," Evony's attention shifted to the Valkyrie nudging Trick carefully out of the way of the doorframe. The barkeep moved aside, his expression troubled, and his hands falling to his sides. Tamsin stepped up to stand a few feet from the leader of the Dark Fae, pale green eyes glittering with belligerence and a cocky smile on her lips.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Evony continued, "but I do recall being quite explicit this afternoon when I told you this case was off-limits?" though the brunette's tone was playful, Maia could detect an underlying sharp edge of anger. If Tamsin heard it at all, it didn't seem to bother her.

"Oh, that's right. Whoops. My bad," Tamsin spoke flippantly, her grin cheeky as she regarded the beautiful, dangerous woman standing in front of her.

The Morrigan didn't respond to Tamsin's attitude, only stared at the blonde calculatingly. After a long, quiet moment, Evony turned her gaze from the Valkyrie she hardly regarded as worth her notice to the curly-haired human standing stiffly beside the door she'd appeared from, hugging her arms and watching the exchange with suspicious interest. The predatory smile she'd worn only minutes ago at Maia's entrance returned to her lips, slowly, lazily. The Morrigan sauntered gracefully to her, eyeing her up and down like a predator stalking her prey.

Maia didn't flinch under the intense, aggressive stare, only squared her shoulders and pushed herself to stand straighter, and met the Morrigan's seductive stare with a defiant one of her own.

"So this is the Seer's pet?" Evony drawled, raising a hand to trace a long, elegant finger along Maia's bruised cheek. A dull pain throbbed under the tender touch, but Maia refused to flinch, to show any sign of weakness. "Doesn't look like much, does she?" the Morrigan leaned in close, Maia could feel Evony's cheek brush against her own, her warm, moist breath caressing the soft skin just below her earlobe, "oh… but the talent…" Evony purred, her voice a low, aroused groan. Her hands wound around Maia's waist, probing and hungry, "you would make a delicious snack…"

Maia's breath caught in her throat again, her lungs squeezed with senseless fear, and she took the opportunity to shut her eyes tightly and collect her strength to resist it, to shut it out. Velvety lips, dampened by a teasing tongue, drifted along her neck, Maia's hackles rose at the sensation of slow, deliberate breaths flaring across her skin. Strong hands coiled under her jacket, climbing up Maia's waist and back quickly, stealthily, the palms flat and pressing firmly against the thin material of her borrowed top. Evony's fingers ran over the contours of her ribs, her spine, and her shoulder blades. All that separated their bodies from pressing flush together were the arms Maia kept crossed tightly over her chest. The sharp, sweet scent of the Morrigan's perfume curled and wafted around the terrified girl, and she forced herself to breathe and open her eyes again as the Morrigan slowly pulled back, an insatiably hungry light glittering in her dark brown eyes.

"She's mine!"

Tamsin's voice cut through the tension, shattering the cold, crystalline moment and making the Morrigan's hands around Maia's body tighten, and her whole body to stiffen. Evony spun, not releasing Maia from her firm, possessive grip, and glared haughtily at the Valkyrie that dared to deny her what she wanted.

"Excuse me?"

A nasty smile curled at the corner of Tamsin's lips, and glittered cold and hard in her darkening eyes.

"I said: She's mine," the Valkyrie repeated. Evony's lips pulled into a snarl, white teeth gleaming in the dim light of the bar. "Seth passed her on to me, before she died," Tamsin continued, triumph clear in her strong voice, "so I suggest you take your hands off my pet, Lady Morrigan," she spoke with cold civility, the hard edge of victory bare and unconcealed in her tone. It gave the subversive Valkyrie an immense sense of pleasure to deny her superior the things she wanted.

The Morrigan's hands fell away from Maia, and she turned to face Tamsin fully, angry fire lighting her insidious brown eyes. Evony opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud, heavy bang and the sound of her name being shouted furiously from across the room.

"Evony! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the Ash strode across the floor of the Dal, his dark face taut with the rage he didn't bother to suppress in his voice, "how dare you kidnap a ward of the Ash?!"

Trick and Maia both heaved heavy, relieved sighs, though no doubt for different reasons. The Morrigan's attention, effectively subverted to the enraged Ash that bore down on her, gave Maia the opportunity to move close to Tamsin, now a source of both support and safety. Trick paced from his spot beside the bar to the middle of the floor, where the leader of the Light Fae stopped, eyes blazing and lips pressed into a hard, thin line. Dyson stood behind him, cold blue eyes fixed on the Morrigan who smiled indulgently at her political equal.

Evony tutted at him, watched him stiffen in his casual, stylish suit, and cocked her hips to the side, one arm raised to rest on her hip, the other hanging loosely beside her.

"I never did such a thing," her voice was teasing, taunting. Evony tilted her head down and watched the Ash shake with the force of his anger through heavy eyelashes. She loved to see her rival so completely undone by anger and his own inability to maintain control over his belongings. "I cannot speak, however, for Jack O'Meara," she relented after a moment, the bemused smile fading rapidly from her lips, "he has renounced his fealty to the Dark. He is no longer one of mine."

A pair of legs that had gone unnoticed swung off the edge of the pool table, and Vex sat up, his eyes, barely visible behind an overhang of thick black hair, settled like everyone else's on the Morrigan.

"And you're just going to let him get away with that?" a sneer pulled at the gothic Englishman's lips, "you're going soft, Evony. I didn't think you tolerated mutiny."

Evony snarled and spun to face Vex, another of her fold that had been lost and a matter of great agitation to the woman that was always, always, in control of her underlings. Her thick, dark tresses flew in a wavy bundle around her face and neck and crashed against her shoulders, gleaming in the dim light.

"I don't!" she snapped. Anger colored her cheeks and flushed along her neck up to her ears before she mastered the emotion and turned back to the Ash, "but he's not the only one that's deviated," Ruthless triumph sent another, cold smile to the curve of her plush red lips, "I hear the Succu-bitch has turned coat and has decided to help him."

"Bo didn't just turn Dark," Maia's voice drifted through the tight, tense air, sounding fragile and timorous. The curly-haired human steeled herself as the eyes of six Fae swiveled around to settle on her. She took in a deep breath and strode to the middle of the floor, supplanting the Blood King from his space. Her steps grew more confident, more determined, as she moved, and when she finally stopped and looked around at the room, considering how to begin, she looked almost fierce and fearless.

A powerful sense of pride for the beaten woman took Tamsin wholly by surprise.

"Bo's devolving. She's going through her Dawning. And Jack O'Meara knew it, and took full advantage of it."

Chaos erupted around Maia, bringing a subtle flinch to her features, though she held her ground tenaciously. She raised her palms in a futile attempt to calm the roiling emotions that raged around her. Conflicted, clashing exclamations and questions swirled in the air, despite her attempts to quiet them.

"How could you possibly know about the Dawning?" this question, uttered by the Blood King, had been repeated by each of the Fae surrounding Maia at least once during the outburst of confusion. The room slowly quieted down again, and Maia drew in a deep breath and looked the old man squarely in the eye.

"Seth told me. Before she died."

"But it's far too soon. Two hundred years too soon," Trick's gaze on Maia was intense, searching. His nostrils flared. Bo had been hungrier than usual lately, had been behaving strangely ever since the battle with the Garuda. It was odd that the injections she'd been using with no issues for two years to curb her hunger suddenly stopped working. Hadn't he only just asked Lauren to perform tests on Bo? Hadn't Dyson come to him less than a week ago with his worries, his concerns that Bo might be killing again?

"I don't know about that," Maia confessed, a veil of uncertainty clouding her features for just a moment, "I just know what Seth told me. And I know what Lauren told me too, before…" she faltered, tearing her eyes from Trick's for an instant as regret and anxiety gnawed at her. She glanced briefly at Seth's lifeless form, lying undisturbed on the couch where they'd lain her, fighting the tears that threatened to gather in her eyes. But she bit her lip, teeth worrying at the soft, bruised flesh, and clenched her fists, and forced herself to return Trick's intent stare with a determined, hardened gaze of her own.

"Lauren had the results you asked her for. It didn't make any sense to me, but she said…" Maia's dark eyes fluttered shut as she fought to recollect the scattered shards of her memory of that moment, "she said that Bo's cells appeared to be dying, and were being replaced by something else." Maia spoke slowly, deliberately, a frown furrowing her brow as she struggled with the faded knowledge, "also, that it's something that's been happening in Bo, not to her. She has her results in a briefcase she left at her apartment," Maia spun to look at Dyson, "also, a cocktail she was in the middle of developing for Bo. She said it might help."

Dyson nodded, his expression grim and focused and his lips drawn into a thin, hard line. He flashed Tamsin's car keys at her, a silent request for permission to use them, and received an accepting nod in response.

"I'll go get it then," the Wolf's voice was low and gruff, he gave the room a last, brooding sweep, then turned and pulled open the door. The heavy, pelting rain had slowed into a steady drizzle, and the Shifter bowed his head against it as he disappeared once again into the dark, monochromatic outdoors.

Maia exhaled slowly. There was one more thing they needed to do as well, though she wasn't certain any of the Fae here would consider rescuing a human as a priority. But Maia was certain it would help, and she was determined that, regardless of the plan they put into motion to bring Bo home and stop Jack O'Meara from starting a war, Kenzi would come home safely. It was her fault Kenzi was in trouble, and Maia needed to make that right.

The door shut with a muffled groan and bang behind Dyson. Maia clenched her teeth and turned back to face the Fae around her, unsure of whose gaze she needed to meet, to make her point.

"There's something else," she started, annoyed to find her voice faltering, betraying her.

"Kenzi."

Maia's eyes widened in surprise at the Ash who spoke her thoughts, who stared at her intently. What did the Ash care about a simple human? A human that wasn't even his? She gave him a tight lipped smile in response and nodded, "we need to find her."

"We'll need Cassie," Vex hopped off the pool table, his expression grim, and sauntered over to the Morrigan, who rolled her eyes in response to him. "She's an Oracle," he explained, noting the questioning glances he received from Trick, Maia and the Ash.

"Oh, who cares about one annoying little human?" exasperation drawled through Evony's tone, and the Morrigan rolled her eyes at the burning looks she received from those around her, answering her question silently, but pointedly.

"Every advantage we can use against O'Meara, to bring Bo back to herself, is one worth taking," Trick started, watching Evony carefully while Vex pulled out his phone and started dialing in a number.

"Bo only went super-Succubus when the fighting started," Maia frowned, looking between Trick and Evony and speaking softly while she worked through her thoughts out loud, "more specifically, when Duncan attacked Lauren." Maia's expression turned inward as she recalled those terrifying moments in O'Meara's basement. The violent flashes of bloody fervor that gleamed in Duncan's eyes, the panic that had risen in Lauren's as the Redcap towered over her prone body, spiked cast poised to come crashing fatally down on her. She shuddered and swallowed down her own horror. She knew the bitter helplessness Lauren must have felt, trapped beneath Duncan's powerful weight, and the self-disgust that came with it, and those sensations washed over Maia at the cutting revelation.

Maia forced herself to look Evony in the eye, a hard, determined edge to her mouth and her fists reflexively clenched at her sides, "I think she turned because someone she loves was in danger."

"And you think that maybe proving to her that Lauren and Kenzi are safe will help to turn her back?" Evony's voice was skeptical, but she accepted the phone Vex offered to her.

"It's worth a try, love," Vex replied.

The Morrigan sighed in defeat and put the phone to her ear. If saving the human would turn the tide against Jack O'Meara, then she supposed she'd best call the Oracle's uncle and have her sent over.

With the room's attention finally scattering, Maia crept away to Tamsin's side. It had not escaped her attention that the Valkyrie that claimed her had been watching her with keen interest, and that a look of intense scrutiny examined her still, even as she paused in front of her. Tamsin's lips were pursed into a thin line, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her whole body stiff. She wasn't looking at Maia, but through her, into her. Maia raised a hand to her cheek and brushed her fingers against Tamsin's pale skin lightly, startling the Valkyrie, deep in thought, back into the present moment.

"Did Seth really ask you to claim me?" the question had been burning on Maia's lips since Tamsin had declared the human as hers, though Maia wasn't sure how it mattered. She just wanted to know. The nature of their relationship to each other was confusing, tentative, and Maia thought the answer to this question might shed some light on it.

Tamsin licked her lips thoughtfully, her faded green eyes searching and introspective, and brushed Maia's hand away.

"Does it matter?" without realizing it, the Valkyrie gave voice to Maia's own thoughts. Then she sighed and looked down at her feet. Her shoulders loosened, and her body seemed to relax a little. When she looked back up at Maia, the human could see that it really didn't. "Yes. She did."