Six

Fire and Blood

Cosette was torn from what uneasy sleep she had managed to fall into by the wailing of sirens. They were so loud that they almost hurt her ears; the shock of it sent her tumbling from the bed, limbs tangled up in her blankets. She landed more or less on top of Grantaire, her elbow driving into his gut.

"What the fuck is going on," Grantaire ground out, almost shouting over the top of the klaxons. His arm banded around her waist. "Is it a fire alarm?"

"I have no idea," Cosette said, the insistent ringing making her head hurt. She clapped her hands over her ears to try and block out the worst of the noise.

Their bedroom door was flung open. Marius skidded in, wearing a pair of unbuttoned jeans and no shirt, his feet bare and hair ruffled. He looked both panicked and bewildered at the same time, one hand clutching at the door frame. As they both looked at him they saw someone else hurry past – their bald head hinted at Bossuet, and he was closely followed by a larger, hulking figure that could only be Bahorel –

"We're under attack," Marius panted. "The compound – it's under attack – we need to get to the safe room –"

Suddenly the sirens cut out, leaving them with a cold, eerie silence that sounded far too loud. None of them moved. A moment later, Combeferre's familiar and warm voice resonated through the room. It sounded clipped and concerned.

"I'm calling an emergency meeting in the safe room," was all he said. "I apologise for the sirens, but they were necessary to wake everyone. We are not yet under attack, but we will be in under one hour. Joly, your presence is required in the Room of Doors. We have a casualty."

Marius seemed to wilt almost against the doorframe. "I'll..." He gestured vaguely. "Get dressed."

Then he turned on his heel and hurried out.

Grantaire and Cosette stared at each other. They could just about see each other despite how dark the room was, the only light they had coming from the brightly lit corridor outside now that Marius had left the door wide open. They saw Joly rush past, carrying a bulging bag.

"This could be bad," Grantaire said, scrambling off the bed and crossing the room to the door in under two strides. He slammed it shut as Cosette worked on untangling herself from the blankets. "This is why we should never have stayed –"

"Now isn't the time for this sort of discussion, Grantaire," Cosette said, trying to keep her voice calm despite the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.

She stood up and reached for a pair of socks, balled up and shoved down the side of her bed, and made about putting them on, before shrugging on a cardigan and buttoning it up. Grantaire just stepped into his boots and laced them up.

There came a knock at the door, and Cosette answered it. Marius stood there, jeans now buttoned and now wearing a long-sleeved white top. He was in the middle of fastening a belt around his waist.

"Come on," he said, his tone terse. "I'll take you to the safe room."

The safe room turned out to be down a short flight of stairs. It was a fairly large room, the walls lined with steel. It was cold and clinical, everything hues of grey and blue, and the only chairs were hard and plastic. Everyone else was huddled around the long metal table in the centre.

Cosette took count of everyone there, her mind wandering to the casualty that Combeferre had mentioned. Everyone bar Combeferre and Joly was there, including a rather disgruntled looking Éponine, so who else could it have been?

Not long after Cosette thought this, the two came in, carrying a limp looking form between them. Joly's face was bloodless, worried to the point of expressionless, almost; the panic was all in his eyes, which had gone a golden yellow colour.

"Move away from the table," Combeferre barked, and everyone jumped back as Combeferre and Joly heaved the person onto the table. Cosette was no expert, but even she could see that the person had been terribly injured. Their face was swollen and bruised beyond recognition, and there was blood everywhere. With a tiny squeak, Cosette turned her face into what she assumed was Grantaire's shoulder.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer. Her eyes burned a little, and then she realised that the scent she was inhaling didn't belong to Grantaire. She looked up to find Marius' face looking down at her, worried. "Are you okay?" he mouthed.

She nodded, and glanced towards the person lying on the metal table.

Bossuet stepped forwards, eyes wide. "Musichetta?"

Joly was raking his hands through his hair. "My bag," he said. "I left it..."

"I'll go and get it," Jehan said, breaking away from the rest of the group and flitting away.

Musichetta had been the woman at the shop, the woman who had helped them travel here. Cosette thought she could see it now, possibly, but she felt sick at how badly the poor woman had been injured.

"What happened?" Enjolras said, his voice commanding.

"I'm reading between the lines here but I suspect that the Demon King's men managed to find her, tortured her for information and threw her through our door to pass on the message. The message – well, we have one hour to give up Cosette to them before they attack," Combeferre said, his words speedy but calm.

"Over my dead body," Grantaire said, and another hand gripped her arm. Marius' hold on her had tightened considerably, too, and between them Cosette wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get away from them.

"Obviously that isn't an option," Combeferre said, stepping back as Jehan appeared, carrying Joly's bag.

Joly snatched it from him and unzipped it, turning it completely upside down so that the contents spilled all over the floor, glass bottles smashing and bouncing over the tiles. He crouched and began to root through them. Combeferre lurched into a crouch before the other man, and put his hands over Joly's. After a few seconds, Joly's hands stopped moving.

"You need to calm down," Combeferre murmured. "You can't help her if you're panicking."

It took a few moments for Joly's breathing to even, but when he straightened up, some bottles and tubs collected in his arms, he looked a lot more relaxed and much less agitated.

"I need some room," he said, quietly. "Please..."

"Let's give him some space," Enjolras said. "We'll move over here."

'Over here' was more or less a metre away, but it still gave Joly more space to work. Only Bossuet remained, hovering at the head of the table with his hands braced on either side of Musichetta's head.

"Let's get back to the other issue at hand," Combeferre said pointedly. "Time is running out here."

"As you said, giving up Cosette isn't an option," Enjolras said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why not?" Éponine's tone was hostile, and Cosette could feel the burn of her glare even through the protective wall formed by Marius and Grantaire. "She's the one causing us problems –"

"Right," Grantaire snapped, stepping around Cosette and Marius. "I have had enough of you –"

"Have you?" Éponine snapped back, stepping forwards too. "Because quite frankly, I couldn't give a shit what you think, Cosette is nothing more than a pain in our –"

"Éponine," Enjolras interrupted. "We're supposed to be helping Cosette, just as we help everyone – just like we've vowed, Éponine, or do I need to remind you of what we vowed?"

Éponine turned the force of her glare on him. "No need," she said. "But I am not putting my life in danger for her!" she said, jabbing a finger in Cosette's direction.

Enjolras' gaze was cool as he regarded her, and before he could speak Grantaire said hotly, "You'd have to go through me first before any of you even tried handing her over, and I am not an easy man to kill, I assure you."

Cosette's hand reached out before she could stop it and curled into the fabric of Grantaire's T-shirt. It was both a calming gesture for herself and a restraining one towards him, and somehow it seemed to work for the both of them. She felt the tenseness of his body ease up slightly, and her own heart rate decreased. She leaned against Marius a little more. He was very warm, she noticed.

"I am not scared of you," Éponine spat, dismissive.

"Maybe you should be," Grantaire said, quietly.

"That's enough," Enjolras said. His tone was like ice. "Éponine, if you don't like the decision you can always leave. We have, as a group, made promises to protect those under threat from the Demon King and Cosette definitely falls under that category. You either fight with us, or you leave. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

If Éponine was shocked, she didn't show it.

"Enjolras," Combeferre said, quietly.

"I mean it," Enjolras said. "Éponine, we haven't got the time for a temper tantrum now. What's your decision?"

"I am not fighting for her," Éponine hissed.

Combeferre bit his lip and stepped towards Éponine, murmuring her name.

Cosette tightened her grip on Grantaire's shirt and burrowed closer into the heat of Marius' side.

"Fight for us, then," Combeferre suggested. "We need you."

Éponine's hands shot out and slammed into Combeferre's chest, palms facing downwards, and she shoved him backwards. "Fuck all of you," she said, turning on her heel and storming out of the room. Her booted feet thudded up the short flight of steps and she left a tense silence in her wake.

Combeferre looked a little like he had been slapped repeatedly in the face, and Jehan looked heartbroken. Cosette edged away from Marius. His body was really warm – it was like a furnace.

"I'll go," she found herself saying, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't – I don't want to cause any trouble and I don't want any of you to get hurt trying to protect me. I'll –"

"No," someone said loudly, and it wasn't even Grantaire. It was Marius, and his hand wrapped around her upper arm, burning hot. His eyes had changed colour, from their normal blue to orange, and they seemed to be flickering, somehow. "You can't give yourself up," he said, slightly quieter. "You can't."

"He's right," Bahorel said, gruffly. "You're one of us now, sweetheart." He reached out with one of his paw-like hands to ruffle her hair, but his smile didn't seem to quite reach his eyes.

"I won't hear any more talk of you giving yourself up," Enjolras said sternly.

"But – " Cosette began, but Enjolras just shook his head.

"We fight," he said, decisively, staring around the room and daring any of them to disobey. No one did, and Marius released Cosette. She was glad he had let her go; his grip wasn't particularly painful, but too warm. She wondered just what was wrong with him.

"I'll stay here with Cosette," Grantaire said, clearly relieved that particular subject had been closed so quickly. "This is your safe room, yes?"

"Yes," Enjolras said, clearing his throat. "Musichetta and Joly will stay here too. I can..." He ran a hand through his golden hair. "We'll fix you up with some weapons, or..." He glanced towards Combeferre, who was watching the empty doorway with a vacant expression on his face, and then towards Courfeyrac, who up until then had been surveying the entire scene with a look hovering between disappointment and resignation.

"Bahorel," Courfeyrac said. "Grantaire, how are you with a gun?"

"Excellent," Grantaire said, calmly.

"Well, then," Courfeyrac said. "Find him some guns, Bahorel."

Not long after, the demons began to file out of the room, leaving Cosette, Grantaire and Enjolras alone with the busily working Joly and anxious Bossuet.

Enjolras placed a hand on Bossuet's shoulder, murmuring quietly, and the bald man slipped out of the room, throwing one last concerned glance over his shoulder.

"Are you sure that you'll be all right with them?" Enjolras asked, pausing in the doorway and folding his arms over his chest.

Gently, Grantaire pushed Cosette so that she was more or less behind him and nodded. "I know how to deal with this kind of situation," he said. "Cosette – and Joly and Musichetta – will be safe with me." He glanced towards the nervous demon and the female lying there. "You can trust me with them."

Enjolras met his gaze. "I know," he said, before turning around and leaving the room. "We'll seal the door in ten minutes," he said, over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

The minute he left Grantaire rounded on Cosette and planted his hands heavily on her shoulders. "I made your father a promise," Grantaire said, fiercely. "And that promise was that, as long as it was in my power, I would keep you safe. I plan on fulfilling that promise for as long as I am physically able, okay?"

There was something slightly wild in his gaze, and she covered his hands with hers. "I know," she said. "I know you will."

"I will get you safe back to your father one day soon," Grantaire said, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Go and see if you can help Joly," he added, pulling away.

"I don't think –" she began, but at that moment Bahorel strode in carrying what looked suspiciously like a machine gun.

"Go on," Grantaire said, nodding his head towards the table. "Every little helps, right?"

Joly clearly didn't want her help, possibly because he thought it would be more of a hindrance than anything else, but he allowed her to hold various tubs and bottles as he applied pastes and lotions to Musichetta's bloodied skin. She personally thought it might have helped if Joly had taken the time to wash Musichetta's skin first, but she reminded herself that she didn't actually know how to heal humans, let alone demons, so she decided to keep quiet.

At some point during this, the door to the safe room had been sealed, and Grantaire was sat by the door. He didn't have the machine gun, however; all he had was a machete sat across his lap and a pistol in one hand. The sight of him sat on one of those hard plastic chairs, holding weapons she usually liked to forget he knew how to use to deadly effect, was a sobering one, as was the calmly intense expression on his face.

Cosette swallowed, and prayed that they would make it through the next few hours alive.

OOO

Éponine knew that she was being childish and stupid and wrong, but she didn't care. She muttered this to herself as she threw her meagre selection of belongings into a bag. She had nowhere to go, but she just wanted to leave.

Just as she was about to zip the bag up, something rocked the entire building and she was thrown to the floor. She landed hard, and the air was knocked out of her lungs. They were here, she realised, with a sickening twist in her stomach. They were the sounds of someone attacking.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She wanted to get out. One side of her was screaming to leave, to risk dodging through the fighting and throw herself through the first door she came to. But the other half of her – the wolf half of her – was itching to fight, to defend, to protect.

She snarled, the sound pathetic and weak over the blasts and explosions coming from elsewhere in their compound. She'd be damned if she died fighting in a battle to protect Cosette, of all people.

Fight for us, a traitorous little voice hissed in the back of her head. It sounded suspiciously like Combeferre, and in that moment, if it were possible, she would have clawed that voice right out of her own skull.

Their faces flashed before her. Marius, mainly, but Combeferre too, and Bahorel's smile and Jehan's laugh and the sight of Feuilly making her pretty dresses she was too proud to wear, Bossuet tripping over his own feet and Joly telling a dirty joke, the first time that Courfeyrac blew fairy dust in her face at a party, Musichetta's flirty winks and Enjolras, face blazing with righteous fury as he ranted about the cruelty of the Demon King. She loved all of them. They were the family she had made for herself, and she didn't want any of them dead. Especially not for Cosette, but – was that relevant now?

She hit herself in the forehead. More images flew forth – Bahorel and Joly forcing Enjolras to dance during a birthday party, the gleam of Bossuet's feathers in the moonlight when he had shifted into his other form. Combeferre's calm eyes.

Fuck, she had to fight. One person could make all the difference, she knew, and in her current mood, a werewolf could do a lot of damage.

She scrambled to her feet, clinging to the bed as another blast rocked the building. It sounded now like the fighting was closer, like it had spilled out into the corridors. Before she could give herself a chance to reconsider, she shifted. The pain wasn't bad as she had already shifted earlier on in the day, but there was still the usual dull ache as her bones popped and twisted, the uncomfortable itch as fur sprouted over her skin, the gnawing pain in her jaw as it changed and lengthened.

When it was over, she stood in the room for a few moments, adjusting to being in her other form. Her other form was a huge black wolf, twice the size of a normal wolf, and in this form she was a hell of a lot angrier. Angry that her pack and territory was being invaded.

She hadn't shut the door properly anyway when she'd stormed in here in a temper, so she only had to nose it open and trotted out into the corridor. She couldn't see anyone, but she could hear them, and smell them – smell her friends and smell her enemies. She could smell blood, too, and that was what sent her running.

She hit the first wave of fighting outside the safe room. The door had been blasted open, the safeguards taken down, and Grantaire was fighting singlehandedly with a machete. She took down one demon, a humanoid one with pale green skin, by the throat, holding him down until his body went limp, and then she went on her way.

The fighting hadn't spread as far as she had thought; she found them all in the Room of Doors and the corridor just outside. Bullets whizzed everywhere, and there was carnage everywhere she could see. They were outnumbered, vastly unprepared, and these demons knew what they were doing. They weren't the more animalistic demons that had been sent to retrieve Cosette before; they were mainly humanoid, and it was easy to recognise their bright blue and red uniforms as belonging to the Demon King's personal bodyguard.

She was assessing the situation when she saw it happen. Marius, skin glowing orange and eyes burning bright, cutting down a horned demon with a large sword just as a female demon with lilac skin and unnaturally large eyes turned a rifle on him. She recognised the rifle as belonging to Bahorel, and then it registered what was about to happen.

Éponine bounded across the floor, feet slipping in the blood of God only knew who, and leaped towards the demon. Her jaws snapped around the demon's throat, and vile tasting blood bloomed forth over Éponine's tongue. She felt something thud into her stomach, but then they both hit the ground. She continued to gnaw on the demon's neck, furious that she had dared to hurt Marius.

She felt like she could taste when death seeped into the demon's bloodstream, and that was when she let go. But that was also when she noticed something strange. Her body felt weak, and she was...She was changing, the fur receding and her bones realigning. Before she knew it she was lying half on top of the demon she had just killed in her humanoid form. Had there been something in the demon's blood that could make her shift? She had heard such a thing was possible.

She tried sitting up, but her limbs felt like they were made from cotton wool. Pain seared through her stomach, so sudden the breath was taken from her lungs. She clasped a hand over her stomach and was almost unsurprised when it came away sticky and damp with blood.

"Oh," she said, staring at the dark red that coated her hand. Weres bled the same colour as humans, and she'd bled lots of times, but this...there was a lot of it this time, and her head felt so thick and nothing made any sense anymore.

OOO

Marius slashed at the horned demon before him, opening the demon at the chest and across his stomach, watching him stumble backwards and then fall over.

He stepped forwards, but then something caught his attention. Another demon. Like the rest, he wore the uniform of the Demon King's personal guard, but there was a bright gold badge pinned to his chest in the shape of a rose. Marius had seen it before; his family was nobility, and he'd been to the Demon King's castle enough times to know that badge belonged to the head of the Guard. He shoved the sword into the horned demon's chest to give the killing blow, and then changed direction, heading for the demon bearing that golden rose.

The idea in his head had formed too quickly to actually be sensible, but it was the best he had. For now their group was holding its own, but it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. They needed time and breathing space.

The flames rolled and burned beneath his skin. He dropped the sword and lunged for the head of the Guard, hands curling into his lapels. The demon looked shocked for a moment, and then snarled, beginning to fight him.

"Stop it," Marius commanded, and he let the flames burst forth from his skin.

"Fire demon," the guard breathed, eyes widening.

"Leave," Marius said. "Take your men and leave, or I will blow up this building –"

"And take yourself with it?" the guard snapped, his eyes adding on, you wouldn't dare.

"And myself with it," Marius snapped back, his eyes adding on, I would.

For good measure, the flames on his hands grew so that they were licking at the demon's face. He hadn't quite meant to do that – when he was angry, the fire was near uncontrollable. If he was pushed too far, he might explode without even trying. The guard seemed to realise this, possibly, because he lurched away, a scream of retreat tearing from his mouth.

The fighting stopped at once, and the demons in their bright uniforms began to hurry away. They scrambled through the door to Musichetta's home as fast as they could, only leaving behind their dead and dying, and then it swung shut behind them.

The flames didn't retreat, though, and Marius swore he could hear them crackling as he stood there, listening to his friends scramble to do some kind of magic to seal the door, as they had been trying to do before they were attacked.

Marius strode forward, and they parted for him silently. He knew it was because he was barely in control of himself right now; that was partly why he hated his demon side. It only came out when he was angry or in danger, and it grew in intensity as his emotions deepened, but by that point it was hard to control.

It was mainly why he hadn't volunteered to do this before, because he'd known he wouldn't be able to summon up the power to do it. Even now, it could possibly go wrong, but it was their easiest option. So he placed his hands on the shut door and focused all of his fire and all of his energy down into his hands. The fire blasted forwards, destroying the door and leaving a gaping hole in the side of the compound, overlooking the night outside.

"That's severed the connection between us and Musichetta's home," he murmured, limbs shaking as they began to cool, the fire settling down now that it had been fully unleashed.

Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder. He looked tired, and there were huge bags beneath his eyes. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem," Marius said, and pulled away, deciding he needed to find Cosette to make sure that she was okay.