Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long! Apparently, publishing my first novel and everything that goes with that left me with little time and energy for fic writing. But the latest chapter is here, and I'll also be updating She's in My Veins again in the next few days. In the meantime, leave a review, check out Aftermath (which I just finished), and give my debut novel BOUNTY a read. Thanks for the love!

Wolfram & Hart…

William Bracken couldn't care less that he was holed up in Lilah Morgan's office when he should be in his own office making all the necessary preparations for another election season. While Bracken's ambitions went a little higher than the White House, he would be foolish not to have a backup plan in place.

Insiders told Bracken he was virtually assured the party nomination if he were to run. His personal popularity was at an all-time high, thanks to being a native New Yorker, having a clear track record, and the ability to keep his less savory exploits out of the public eye.

Still, as much as he liked the sound of "President Bracken," the Senator would be a fool if he didn't admit Ascending into the latest physical embodiment of Ky-laag held a certain appeal. Bracken had studied the Old Ones for decades, and while his visit to the Deeper Well bore little fruit, he had not left empty-handed.

So his first choice was unavailable, having already secured its escape from the Deeper Well, only to weed itself into the body of a mortal woman and find itself weakened.

Perhaps Illyria had not been so formidable after all. Just as well.

Bracken stared at the coal gray box on Lilah's desk, in awe as his fingers traced over the edges with reverence. It was the latest step in his Ascension; the contents of this box were to be eaten, ingested from sunset to sunrise. The thought turned his stomach, but the power these beasts held were critical to his gradual transformation.

He could hear them skittering inside the box, their tentacles scraping against the rough edges. They were ornery creatures, and Bracken already knew they would not be pleasant going down. Even less pleasant would be the fusion of his internal organs; Bracken knew he needed to be internally ready for the spirit of Ky-laag to overtake his body, but this was the one ritual, above all others, that he dreaded most.

"Don't suppose there's a bottle of wine to go with this," he quipped.

"Don't look at me," Lilah shook her head and rose from her seat. "Just make sure that box doesn't open in here. There isn't enough Raid in the world to kill those things."

Now on the other side of the desk, Lilah approached Senator Bracken and handed him a stuffed manila folder, a self-satisfied grin on her face. Bracken took the folder with an arched brow, cocking his head to the side.

"What's this?"

"Everything we could find on Joe Pulgatti," Lilah answered with a quirked brow of her own.

"I know about Joe Pulgatti," Bracken countered, thumbing his way through the contents of the folder. "I need to get rid of everything that links me to his lawyer."

"Ah, yes," Lilah nodded. "Johanna Beckett. The Senior Partners remember her quite well, and not at all fondly."

"Pain in my ass, she was," Bracken hissed. "Her daughter's not much better."

"We know of her, too." Lilah ran a hand through her hair. "Lindsey's had the misfortune of representing clients she arrested. Girl's a bitch on the witness stand."

"Everywhere else, too."

"There's another problem," Lilah added, reaching toward her desk for another manila folder, handing it to the Senator as well. "Detective Beckett and Ms. Lehane are no longer the only Slayers in town."

Bracken's brows arched when he opened the folder and saw the name. He smirked and shook his head, tucking both folders under his arm as his fingers once again trailed over the edge of the box. "Well, Spike will love this."

"You sure he'll be up for that?"

"Ms. Morgan, he's just vindictive enough that he'll thrive on it."

December 14, 1998…

As much as Johanna Beckett would have loved to join her husband is bed, considering the clock on her desk was keen on reminding her that it was after two in the morning, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep without pouring over everything in the files spread across her desk. Papers were strewn about everywhere, no order or reason to them. More than once, Johanna had to flip through stack after stack to find the page she was after, pencil clutched in her teeth.

Her landline phone rang, startling Johanna to the point that the pencil fell out of her mouth and the stack of papers she had been thumbing through toppled to the floor. She sighed to gather herself before rolling her eyes – because honestly, who the hell could be calling at this hour?

Johanna grabbed the receiver, hoping the commotion hadn't woken Jim.

"Beckett residence," she answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of her tone.

"Mrs. Beckett," an upper-crest British accent greeted on the other end of the line. "I trust I didn't wake you."

"No." Johanna pursed her lips. "Though this isn't exactly the best hour for us to be taking calls. Mr. Travers."

"My apologies," he replied, but the tone of his voice made it clear that he wasn't actually apologizing. "I'm afraid there is a matter of some urgency."

"A matter of some urgency," Johanna repeated with an arched brow. "And yet you decided to call a lawyer in Manhattan rather than your little superhero friends in California. You'll forgive me if I find that a bit… odd."

Johanna hated it whenever Quentin Travers called – not just because he had a habit of calling with bad news or dire predictions, but because he was an all-around jerk. Stuck on his own self-importance, convinced that his Council was the end-all, be-all when it came to keeping the world safe – to say nothing of his rampant sexism, unchecked over decades of self-appointed power.

Of all the people who could be in charge of the Council of Watchers, Johanna couldn't think of a worse candidate than Quentin Travers.

"We fear there is an Ascension brewing," Travers said.

"Yeah, I've heard the rumblings underground," Johanna answered with a shrug. "But seeing as how I'm in New York, and this is about some small-town California mayor, I don't see what you want me to do about it."

"I'm not talking about Mayor Wilkins, Mrs. Beckett. I'm afraid there's another threat, one right in your own back yard."

"Then why not put your Slayer on a plane to New York and let her handle it?"

"I would if I could," Travers said with a growl in his voice. "But she has enough to deal with between her own Ascension and her senior year of high school. What on Earth she needs an education for, I'll never know, but Mr. Giles is insistent – even after his termination."

"Right." Johanna rolled her eyes. "How dare Rupert treat his Slayer like a person?"

Travers ignored the dig, much to Johanna's consternation. "We have reason to believe someone in New York – someone in an influential position – is working toward Ascension. And we believe we know who it is."

Again, Johanna rolled her eyes. "And?"

"William Bracken."

Johanna sat up straighter in her chair, her free hand tangling itself in the cord between the receiver and the telephone console. "You mean the Assistant DA? No." She shook her head. "No, can't be. Look, Bracken's a giant pain in the ass, but come on, giant demon?"

Never mind the fact that Bracken was apparently becoming a focal point in her current investigation. Mob enforcer Joe Pulgatti had hired her to prove his innocence in the murder of an undercover FBI agent named Bob Armen. The police report pinned Pulgatti at the scene of the murder, but Pulgatti claimed he was being abducted by a trio of people who had been kidnapping mobsters and holding them for ransom.

Pulgatti's assertion was that the only way for the police to know he was in that alley the night Bob Armen was killed was if the kidnappers were themselves cops. Johanna agreed with the reasoning, but poring through NYPD case files had gotten her nowhere – as had attempts to contact John Raglan and Gary McCallister, the apparent investigating officers.

But a private investigator she had hired last week was already paying dividends, pointing her in the direction of the Assistant DA. The man who simply went by the name Smith was following a money trail, using methods and contacts Johanna had no hope of ever having herself. Normally, she wouldn't stoop to such measures, but if it meant proving Pulgatti's innocence…

"I know how it sounds," Travers admitted. "We verified this intelligence as best we could, and we believe Mr. Bracken is in the middle of the process of Ascending. If our intel in correct, he's potentially two decades shy of becoming an Old One."

"Fine." Johanna pinched the bridge of her nose. "Say all of this is true. What exactly am I supposed to do about it? Are you forgetting the part where I'm a lawyer, not a Slayer? Hell, I'm not even a Watcher."

"Our intelligence also uncovered information relevant to your case."

Johanna frowned. "The Pulgatti case?"

"Indeed." The sound of a chair shifting filled the line, as if Travers either swiveled in his chair or reached onto his desk to grab something. "We have reason to believe Mr. Bracken is covering up for those men who have been kidnapping mobsters."

"And why would he do that?"

"They're paying him a cut of each ransom," Travers explained. "These men are literally buying Bracken's silence."

"You wouldn't happen to know who these men are."

"We know two of them," Travers said with a sigh. "John Raglan and Gary McCallister."

So Pulgatti's claim checked out – assuming, of course, that what Travers was telling her was true. Not that she had reason to believe it wasn't; Quentin Travers was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. And if the rest of his Watchers were as intelligent and thorough as Rupert Giles…

"What, nothing on the third man?" Johanna asked.

"Not as of yet. But we're still working on it."

"You do realize that if you're right," Johanna countered, "you're gonna need some firepower in New York. But seeing as how both your Slayers are in Sunnydale…"

"We're aware of that," Travers said. "Contingencies are in place."

"Those contingencies better not include my daughter," Johanna warned.

"Mrs. Beckett," Travers sighed, "Katherine has tremendous potential. She would make a fine Slayer."

"Yeah, well… last I checked, your Slayers are still alive," the lawyer sank back in her chair, shaking her head. "Besides, we had a deal. Remember? The only reason I put up with your sexist ass is to make sure my Katie stays as far away from this as possible."

"That's a shame, too," Travers argued. "That girl is something special."

"Yes, she is," Johanna said through gritted teeth. "Which is why I'm doing everything I can to make sure she makes it to adulthood. My girl won't make it to the Supreme Court if I let you throw her into the fire."

The sigh on the other end told Johanna that Travers was tired of this conversation. So was she, because every time Quentin called, their talks inevitably wound up circling back to her daughter. It had been this way since Kate turned 13 and the Council first approached them about training her as a Potential. Both Johanna and Jim had refused, and their stances had not changed in the years since.

Kate now being an adult and studying at Stanford did little to change their opinion.

"Take down Bracken," Travers warned. "He can't Ascend if he's behind bars."

Present day…

Kate Beckett shook her head. "Why do I feel like I've stepped into some turgid supernatural soap opera?"

"Maybe because you have?" Castle shrugged. "Nice use of 'turgid,' by the way."

A smirk crept onto Kate's face and she leaned against one of the bookshelves that separated Castle's office from the rest of the loft. "You like that, Castle? You like it when I use big words?"

The writer's eyebrows arched and a knowing grin tugged at his mouth. "I do."

"Hm." Kate pushed herself off the wall, approaching Castle's desk before resting her open palms on the smooth wooden surface. "You should hear me say 'salacious'."

Castle leaned in. "I believe I just did."

Even as Kate rolled her eyes, the grin never left her face. She pushed off of Castle's desk before wandering across to the other side, leaning against the surface and folding her arms over her chest. Her father's watch was large on her wrist, and the ring she wore around her neck was visible under the white button-down – the top two buttons undone.

She stood in silence for a few moments, chewing on her lower lip. Castle, to his credit, was silent along with her, lost in thought as he swiveled his chair back and forth. When he looked up at Kate, his blue eyes were darker than usual.

"Is this as bad as I think?" he asked.

Kate released a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding, shaking her head. "I really wanna say no," she admitted. "But the look on Faith's face the first time she mentioned Ascension…"

"And the fact that Ms. Summers is here," Castle added.

"Yeah." Kate ducked her head and brushed the hair out of her face. It was starting to get a little longer, still not quite shoulder-length and starting to curl out on the ends. There was a hint of red to it, and frankly, she thought it was a cute look. "I don't know if we can win this, Castle."

"Buffy stopped an Ascension once before," Castle offered, sitting up. "Right?"

"If by stopping it, you mean she destroyed an entire high school after Mayor Wilkins' transformation was complete," Kate countered. "Our best bet is to somehow take out Bracken before he has a chance to actually Ascend."

"And how do we do that?" Castle asked. "You can't just kill a guy."

"And what about this… Spike?" Kate shook her head. "The last thing I need right now is a self-important pretty boy following me around all the time. Present company excluded, of course."

"I choose to ignore that," Castle quipped.

"This is why I didn't want you following me around," Kate said, ducking her head.

"You mean it's not because you thought I was a 9-year-old on a sugar rush?"

"Okay, that too." Kate shook her head. "But… Rick, this is serious. This isn't slip on a bulletproof vest and hope I don't get shot in the field. I'm barely equipped to handle this, and I have superpowers. You have a daughter and a mother."

"Kate," Castle said, "I appreciate that you're worried about me. Really. And yeah, this is scary. I signed up for drug dealers and serial killers and jilted lovers, not vampires and end-of-the-world prophecies. But what kind of partner would I be if I didn't have your back, no matter what?"

Kate looked up at Castle, her brow furrowed. She unfolded her arms and gripped the edge of the desk. Chewing on her lip, she shook her head. "Is that what we are? Partners?"

Castle shrugged. "I mean, we're not Ryan and Esposito, but…"

Kate smirked. "I thought you were my plucky sidekick."

"Plucky sidekick always gets killed," Castle said with a dismissive wave. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Beckett."

Truth be told, Kate didn't want to be rid of him. His presence was once a burden to her, but the fact was that Castle had proven helpful on occasion – and the fact that he was steadfast in her corner with everything going down like this meant something to her. Not that her boys at the precinct weren't the same way – they were – but they didn't know Kate like Castle did.

He had seen the darkest her life had to offer, he knew how dangerous her life was – as both a cop and a Slayer – and he still showed up every day, two cups of coffee in-hand. Castle consulted with her on cases official and otherwise, and with her social circles suddenly full of mopey vampires and demon killers, it was nice having a regular human on whom to lean.

"You're right, you know," she said, her left hand reaching for his. "But I need you to promise me something."

Castle nodded.

"When this goes down, for real," Kate arched her brows, studying Castle's face, "you can't follow. Okay? It's one thing if I go down. That's the nature of being a Slayer. But I will not be the reason Alexis loses her father or Martha her son."

Castle opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when he saw the look in Kate's hazel eyes. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. He understood with perfect clarity what Kate was saying, and logically, he understood and even agreed with her reasoning. But he hated the thought of her going into battle – any battle – without him by her side.

"Okay," he relented with a sigh. "I promise."

A soft smile crossed Kate's face – and oh, what a sight that was – and she gave Castle's hand a light squeeze. She again ducked her head and brushed aside locks of hair, and if Castle didn't know any better, he could swear she was blushing.

"It's not so bad," he added, trying to convince himself as much as anything. "You've got two other Slayers on your side, and then there's Angel."

Kate shook her head. "I wouldn't rely on Angel."

Castle rose an eyebrow. "Why?"

Kate shook her head again, releasing her grip on Castle's hand. "It's… complicated."

"Always seems to be with him."

Kate smirked and shook her head. "You have no idea."