Trigger Warning: Mentions of the death of a child. Semi-graphic, one-sentence description of said death.

Chapter 6: Hail, Horrors

Phil's instinctual first impression of Fiona had been of weakness. It was a knee-jerk, animal reaction, a response to her friendly and easy-going demeanor. She talked and joked with Julius and Flesh and his other lietenants like they were old friends, like they were all civilized humans. If one of them made a threat or an insult, as vampires were want to do, she most often looked at them as though they were being downright rude, with not an ounce of fear or respect for the perpetrator. Usually, she left the discipline of Julius's men to Julius, and had little more than a sharp retort as her own part in her defense. The smarter amongst them soon realized that Julius would not carry respect for her, nor would she be so at ease with them, if she was not formidable. Flesh and many others quickly learned to treat her with some respect, even if a few could not conceive of her as a serious threat.

There were moments, though, when conversation drifted a certain way, or when the dramatic debauchery of the clan's lair sparked disapproval, or when a vampire took an insult one step too far, that Flesh sensed something lurking underneath the charming facade. It was something that reminded him of documentaries of wolves, or of lions: a pack animal that could hold such warmth for it's companions, yet would tear apart any and all other living creatures if it thought it should. He had heard that some zoo keepers described this change as the "predator switch".

In many ways, the vampires were the lions, the wolves, but their predator switch flipped on and off so frequently that Fiona seemed unconcerned by it, as though she had learned to navigate such tumultuous behaviour decades ago. Once or twice, however, the witch had made Flesh feel as those keepers must have felt to witness their dear pets morph into cold-blooded killing machines.

He did not remember exactly what started it. They had been as jovial and companionable as they had ever been, drinking and joking, and some lower lieutenant had gotten their feathers ruffled. They issued an insult. Then a threat. Then, as they proceeded on a long-winded mocking of Fiona's humanity, they mentioned Cormac, and Aisling, and what it would be like to rip their entrails from their stomach and sodomize their still-breathing bodies.

Flesh remembered watching the switch flip, watching the way those green eyes sunk behind the cold reflective gaze of a shark. "How very dramatic," She had said simply, and then the vampire was hovering over the main table as though held there by an invisible hand, and Fiona's eyes were black from corner to corner. When she stood, there was a power and aggression in her body that he had never seen from her, and perhaps that made the offending vampire think it a false bravado. She told him, in the coldest voice Flesh had ever heard, to back down. The vampire ran his mouth instead.

She did not look to Julius for consent. She did not give a second warning. There was some kind of dangerous focus within her that he could only liken to the single-minded drive for blood of a predator amidst the chase.

The same invisible force that held the vampire in place took him apart in slow and methodical order. Starting up the left side of his body and then down the right, it crushed fingers, cut the hand from the wrist, snapped the elbows, and finally dislocated the shoulder. When both arms had been mangled, the knees and legs got similar treatment. It was gruesome. It was loud, both from the screaming of the vampire, and the eventual glee of the clan, who watched it all unfold like an event meant to entertain them. It did not entertain Flesh, and it did not entertain Julius, though it seemed to fascinate him. For them, the spectacular violence brought the realization that their wolf had teeth after all, and oh, how sharp they really were.

When she was done with him, Fiona's magic lowered the vampire to his crushed knees atop the table, and she vaulted atop it to take his head between her hands. "Look away, ladies and gents, or you'll go blind." She'd said in that same cold, detached voice. Of course, no one listened at first, and the flash of light that followed did indeed blind many momentarily; those who were quick enough to cover their faces would regain their vision in a few seconds, while the slower ones would take hours. The brightest, whitest daylight filled the room, so intense that even underneath both his hands, balls of phantom colors danced across Flesh's closed eyes. When the world went dark and they could see again, the vampire on the table was a blackened, shriveled husk, his eyes liquified within his skull.

And then Fiona blinked, and the switch flipped off. Her eyes returned to green, and she bowed towards Julius as would an actor at the end of their play. Then she took her seat and picked up her flask as though nothing had happened, and the night continued on.

As Phil and Lucky watched Scab stalk the line of human prisoners that had been presented to Dmitri and his Elites, he thought he could sense that same thing rising towards the surface, and he waited for that moment where she would no longer recognize the bloodsucker as part of her kind, as pack instead of prey. Fiona had just stepped back to Dmitri's side from sending that vampire of hers away, but when Scab tried to grab Callie from the line, she stepped forward again; he saw the switch flip, and for a bone-chilling second he knew that horror would come.

Then, without looking, as though he sensed it or simply predicted it, Dmitri held down a hand towards her, ordering a halt. And she paused for a half-second, and as Dmitri ordered another to be chosen, she seemed to sink back in to her usual demeanor, if more than a little pissed. Phil could only stare in shock, for a moment unable to comprehend what could call back a wolf as it closed on the kill.

He should have known that Fiona was not so easily deterred. When Phil and Lucky's attempt to free the prisoners had dissolved into the chaos of fleeing humans and pursuing vampires, a shape materialized from the darkness barely four yards from them. Lucky fired on instinct and hit the witch's shoulder, rocking her back onto her heels, and then the small Celt batted the rifle's barrel aside and shoved Callie into Phil's side.

"Try and keep track of her, yeah?" Fiona growled. And then she was gone again, strolling through the forest as though the screams and blood were of no consequence.

They did not see her again until sunrise, but he glimpsed her raven once through the night, and warned Lucky of a possible meeting. They had just settled into an abandoned cabin for the night when a knock came at the door. Lucky and Phil both reached for their guns, but Phil sighed as he did so, and at Lucky's inquiring glance, he motioned her back from the door.

As expected, when he opened it, Fiona was leaning against the doorframe, her raven on her shoulder.

Within a few days of Fiona's last conversation with Dmitri, just as the sun was beginning to set, he contacted her with the Sending Stone. His group had captured a Spanish-speaking woman from whom the only words they could understand had been the name Fiona Corvus. Less than fifteen minutes after the call, Fiona and Devon and Silus were stepping from a portal. They had appeared right next to the Czar as planned, but seeing Scab and Ivory hovering a few yards away gave Fiona pause.

The witch flashed a charming smile. "Ivory, love. Good to see you." Her eyes slid over to Scab, and the smile tightened. "One moment, please."

She spun on her heels to face Dmitri and said in Russian, "Please tell me the Sisterhood is here because you patched things up with Mara."

He replied in the same language. "Of course not. Scab killed her." Ivory and Scab were watching them keenly now at hearing the names; Silus, meanwhile, crossed his arms to wait, looking around at the group of vampires and captured humans with barely-disguised boredom.

"You've got to be joking." Fiona replied. "That one? He's less than a hundred years old. Mara should've snapped him like a twig."

The vampire shrugged. "He has proven hard to kill."

"Aye, the cockroaches always survive, don't they?" That got a chuckle from him. Fiona switched back to English and continued, "You said you might have one of my people?"

"We cannot tell, but she knows your name."

"I can't believe that not one of you lot knows a lick of Spanish." The witch grumbled. "Thanks for calling me. I'll have a look."

Fiona started towards the group of prisoners, Devon lifting into the trees above and Silus falling into step close behind her. A quick glance turned up no one she immediately recognized, so she called in Spanish as she approached, "Someone has been asking for me?"

Most of them stared back blankly at her. The American education system hard at work, she thought sarcastically.

"Senora Corvus," One Latina woman responded, and Fiona headed for her. The prisoners tied to either side of the woman shrunk back, but despite the way her eyes nervously darted over Fiona and Silus, the woman stood her ground. The witch evaluated her for half a second.

"Not to be rude, love," She began in Spanish- Silus shot her an amused look at hearing mi amor- "But I don't remember you, and I have a great memory for people. So have we actually met, or are you just bullshitting the leeches?"

"I'm Maria. We have not met, but I have heard of you. I know you are-" There she hesitated, and amended whatever she was going to say to, "That you work with the Portland vampires."

"Yeah? What were you about to say just there?" Fiona asked with a half-grin. When the woman hesitated, the witch pressed, "Com'on, I'm not going to shoot the messenger. What do people say about me?"

"The vampires call you the Russian's pet witch."

Fiona laughed jovially at that. "Ha! Really? Now that's ironic. My Council calls him my pet vampire. Like one of those feral tomcats you keep around to kill the mice." Over her shoulder, she tapped her knuckles against Silus's chest pointedly. He didn't understand Spanish much better than the other vampires, but he flashed a smile that might have been reassuring if not for the gleam of fangs. "Don't worry, this one's a bit more tame. So, how exactly did you hope this would play out when you started throwing my name around?"

Automatically, more than likely rehearsed, Maria replied, "I've hidden a year's worth of medicine. Get me out of this, and I'll take you to it."

Fiona cocked her head. "How did you manage that?"

"I was a home nurse before the Rising. After… everything, I knew which houses had medications on hand."

The witch flashed a small, appreciative smile. "Smart woman. Got anything good?"

"Pain meds-" She started, but Fiona waved that away.

"I can produce my own opioids, and narcotics were the first thing everyone grabbed when the world ended. What else?"

"Insulin, blood pressure medication, steroids… A lot of stuff."

Fiona considered that, and nodded slowly. Insulin is a bitch to get your hands on. Might be worth it just for that. "I'll talk to the vampires and see what I can do." She smiled charmingly and added, "Lie to the leeches all you want, love, but you better not be bullshitting me."

From behind her, Silas suddenly put a hand on Fiona's waist and leaned down to speak into her ear. "Fiona, there's a kid here."

Fiona's entire body tensed, but she forced it to relax and leaned back into him. He dropped his head almost onto her shoulder so she could respond in a whisper, "Where?"

"To the right, behind the brunette in the grey jacket."

The Celt turned her head slowly to look down the line of humans. Sure enough, at almost the other end of the line of prisoners, a girl huddled against a brown-haired woman. Fiona put the kid somewhere around ten, certainly not older than twelve. Her eyes were keen and observant as she stared at the two newcomers, and though the rate of her breath frosting in the air told Fiona that she was certainly scared, she was far from panicking.

The woman with her caught Fiona's gaze, and worriedly glanced from the witch to the kid. She leaned down to say something to the girl; the child averted her eyes, trying to furtively glance back up without being caught. The woman, meanwhile, watched Fiona with open wariness.

"I think that's my cue." Fiona muttered to Silus. "Keep the Czar off my back, yeah?"

He gave her a quick kiss on the temple. "Of course, darling."

Fiona made her way down the line and stopped in front of the woman and the girl, both of whom shrunk away. The witch held her hands out to the side placatingly.

"I come in peace." She greeted with a small, joking smile. "Fiona Corvus." The woman only stared at her for a long moment, suspicious and resentful in equal measure, so Fiona prompted, "And you are?"

"What do you want?" The woman asked brusquely, though there was the barest shake in her voice.

"Names, for a start." Fiona returned gently, looking at her with patient expectancy. When she still hesitated, the Celt glanced down to the girl with the same expression.

"Callie." The girl offered quietly. The woman shot her a reproachful look.

Fiona nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Callie." She said, and again looked at the woman expectantly.

"...Jolene." She finally said. Her eyes flickered over the witch. "You don't look like a vampire."

"I'm as human as you are, love. I'm a hemomancer- a warlock. I've got a truce with the leeches."

"Warlock?" Callie asked. "Like- magic?"

Fiona nodded, flashing a warm smile. "Aye. Spells and familiar and all."

Jolene somehow looked even more unnerved by that idea. "What do you want with us?"

"Look, I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'll help the kid out if I can. You her mum?"

Before Jolene could respond, Callie put in, "My parents are dead."

"We've been looking after her-" Jolene began.

"I can take care of myself." Callie interjected, and there was such conviction- and just a hint of bitterness- in her voice. Fiona grinned.

"I guess you're who I should be talking to, then." The witch replied, turning more towards her. "We're short on time, so I'll get to the point. The vampires aren't going to just let any of you go, but I can try to trade something for you."

"...Why?" The girl asked, incredulous and nervous and almost guilty. "What does it get you?"

Fiona noted the layers of emotion. Outwardly, she only shrugged. "Dunno yet. Got any useful skills?"

It was a lie and a deflection, but it was easier than explaining the intricacies of trying to hang onto the tattered shreds of one's immortal soul. It wasn't about morality, exactly- Fiona had never been a pillar of morality by any standard. It was more about apathy. The ability to leave a child to certain death represented a line she wouldn't cross yet, a line between being at least somewhat of a normal human, or something entirely removed from it.

Callie seemed pleasantly surprised by the question, though not entirely convinced by it. As she listed off a few skills- trapping rabbits, fixing electronics, so on- and Fiona probed her on her past, she began to develop a theory as to why. Some kind of survivor's guilt complex, the witch thought as she learned of her now-dead traveling companions, and it was only supported by the girl's quiet, nervous admission that she'd looked after a friend that had turned into a vampire. She knows that people are only this committed to helping her because she's so young.

All too soon, Fiona saw in her periphery that Silus was walking towards them, and she stood and stepped back to meet him. He again looped an arm around her waist and spoke into her ear.

"The Ambassador is losing patience," He said quietly. "He'll make a scene of it shortly."

Fiona sighed. "I'll be over." Silus nodded and slipped away, and the Celt looked back to Callie. "Sit tight. I'll work something out."

"And the rest of us?" Jolene challenged. "You're just going to leave us to die?"

Fiona fought not to scowl. "What do you expect me to do here, love? I can't take them all in a fight, and even if I could, I wouldn't. I'd have to gut every single one of them to avoid a war between their clan and my people. I'd be killing more people than I saved." Jolene only stared, blindsided by that idea. People never think their heroic fantasies through, do they? "Lovely chat. Best of luck."

The Czar was waiting expectantly and impatiently. "I'd like to take the woman." She said as she reached him.

He settled her with a hard evaluating look, not for a second missing the way she had worded that. "If she is not one of yours, then you have no claim on her. We will need to eat."

"She's more of a private contractor than an employee." Which, as of the moment, was not technically a lie. "If you'll part with the kid, too, I'll consider that second symbol paid for."

He shot her an annoyed look. "You cannot stake a claim on every stray you find, Fiona."

"It's not just about sentimentality, mate. Remember that I said I'm looking for an apprentice? She's a little young for hemomancy, but about the right age for druidcraft. Have a good look at her. She's pretty damn composed for a kid in this situation. It's bloody impressive." The vampire glanced over her shoulder at the kid, face unconvinced. "Com'on, mate, she's not really even big enough to eat. All she's gonna do is slow you down and give the rest of them delusions of heroism."

The truth of that last statement gave him a moment's pause, and Fiona watched him consider it.

"You may have the woman if you are able to replace the volume of blood lost."

The witch chewed that over for a second. "Live, or will blood bags do? I'll throw in some of my own if you'll take bags."

"How generous." He replied with sardonic amusement. "That will suffice."

"And the kid?"

Something sharp and predatory sparked behind his eyes. Fiona had learned to recognize the look: he knew he had something she wanted, and that he could get away with overcharging for it. She distantly wondered if she'd been as obvious about it the handful of times the situation had been reversed.

"Lead me to the key I seek, and you may have the child."

The Celt gave him a distrustful look. "Yeah? And what's the catch?"

"The Van Helsings and their followers have it."

"No." Fiona said instantly. "I told you, I'm not getting in the middle of- hold on. Their, plural? Abigail's come out of hiding?" Fear began to claw up her spine. "Jesus fucking Christ, Dmitri-"

"Not Abigail. The second daughter, the Harker girl."

"That's barely better." Fiona grumbled. "You said followers? How many?"

"Julius, another man, a woman. They were all bitten by Vanessa. They reeked of it."

"All three? That can't be a coincidence." An idea made horror flash openly across her face. "Sweet Mary, are they sire-bonded to her?"

The Russian glanced over with a thoughtful look. "It would explain their devotion. Even in the face of certain annihilation, they follow her. Fascinating. Do you think she has realized? She could build an army…" His tone was all amusement, like someone who had just witnessed a toddler say their first curse word. Fiona gave him a black look.

"I know you vampires are emotionally stunted, but horror and revulsion are the appropriate reactions here."

"The key." Dmitri insisted, trying to wrest the conversation back to the original point. "Will you guide us?"

"Do I want to traipse around the woods with you until we get into a fight with those cultish vampire hunters?" She asked sarcastically. Her gaze drifted back to Callie, and her eyes softened at the same time that her teeth began to grind. Asking me to risk my life for a random kid that gets him nothing. This is daylight fucking robbery. "I'll think about it." She finally ground out, stalking away and resenting that the statement didn't carry the same sarcasm as the previous one. Silus fell into step beside her as she crossed back towards the humans. "We can have Maria, at least."

"And the child?"

"I'll figure something out."

Devon cawwed from somewhere in the forest, his consciousness pressing in on hers. Fiona stopped in her tracks and grabbed Silus's arm, her eyes rolling back as she entered Devon's body and her own became blind and deaf. Her raven was perched on a high branch, looking down at two figures huddled behind some trees. At a thought he looked the other way, and Fiona could distantly see her own body some distance away. What do we have here? That guy looks familiar- oh, it's Flesh! Huh. Glasses really do kill any intimidation factor, don't they?

Devon's idea, the reason he had alerted her, bled into her mind. Brilliant, mate. Keep an eye on them, She told him, and returned to her own body.

"Something wrong?" Silus asked immediately, keeping his tone conversational even as his eyes lifted to dart around the surrounding trees.

"Devon figured something out." Fiona replied cheerily, pulling him forward as though nothing had happened. "Take Maria and collect her stash. We'll need the insulin. I'll 'port you to the nearest safehouse to make it quick, and you can leave them there. What she does after is up to her, but if she wants to join us, link her up with Nina's caravan."

"And do you plan to do anything dangerous while I'm away?"

"Nothing more than usual."

He sighed dramatically. "If something happens to you under my supervision, Aisling will stake me. Keep that in mind, darling."

Fiona rolled her eyes at him and stopped in front of Maria. She began to explain in Spanish the same thing she had told Silus, and reached inside her coat to draw her dagger and cut the woman's hands free. She nodded along to the instructions, and then shot a trepidatious look over Fiona's shoulder. The witch followed her gaze to the horde of vampires waiting expectantly behind her.

"Ah. Breakfast time." She remarked to Maria. Then she stepped back to hold her hand out over the ground, and a long phrase had dirt and woodchips scattering, leaving a small teleportation symbol etched into the ground. Mum would kill me for being so showy, She thought distantly, and glanced up at the vampires. But I don't think they'd wait for me to draw one. To Silus, she said, "Be quick and quiet. Don't draw attention to yourself."

She made a cut on the back of her arm to activate the circle, and he automatically stepped closer to her, glaring openly at the other vampires. He stooped to place a quick kiss to her forehead and mumbled, "Be careful, darling. Remember that your well-being affects us all."

"Your self-centered concern is always so charming, Si." She muttered back with a little annoyance and a small smile. She said the words to activate the circle, and it glowed bright red in the dim post-sunset light as the portal formed in the air above it. Silus motioned Maria through, flashed Fiona one last dashing smile of white teeth and sharp canines, and disappeared.

Fiona glanced back, taking in the crowd of hungry vampires and the way every set of eyes had honed in on the cut on her arm. She internally sighed, but put on a wicked smile for the crowd, said, "Sorry, ladies and gents, but I'm only on the menu for people who say pretty please," and gave Ivory a brazen, playful wink.

"Hello, Flesh." The Celt said with a companionable smile the next morning. "Long time no see."

"It's Phil." He returned cooly, gun held tightly but lowered. For a second, the world was silent, and Fiona cocked an eyebrow.

"May I come in?"

"'Do we have a choice?"

"Come on, mate, when have I ever been a bad houseguest? We need to have a chat, but if you want to do it on a doorstep, we can."

For a long minute, he looked as though he was considering it. Then he glanced to Lucky and away, and stepped aside. Fiona strolled in as Phil shut the door behind her, the witch taking in her surroundings with a quick glance. They stood in the middle of a respectably sized living room, the space dominated by a large hearth and a worn sectional. Lucky stood near the far wall, silhouetted by moonlight from the windows behind her. Devon glided from Fiona's shoulder to the back of the sectional, and the witch nodded to the other woman.

"Nice to meet you again, lass. I'm Fiona Corvus."

"I know who you are." She returned scathingly, and Fiona flashed a cold smile.

"Oh, I'm flattered." Fiona pointed to the hearth, mouthed a word, and a fire roared to life. "And how, exactly, have you heard of me?"

"You sided with the vampires over your own kind. Supported those monsters when they were in Portland, and now you're letting them feed on children-"

"Lucky-"

"I see you're Resistance, then." Fiona interrupted, and added dryly, "You lot never did understand the meaning of neutral party."

"A neutral party would have supplied us as well as they did the vampires."

"If you think I never supplied for resistance groups, then you must be from Taka's branch."

That caught her off guard. "What?"

"I'd work with a Resistance, but I wouldn't work with Taka. I dislike hypocrites and Rebecca. Hypocrisy is forgivable, but reporting to Rebecca was not."

Shock and hurt flashed across Lucky's face. Fiona noted that, despite the sympathetic look he gave her, Phil did not look in the least bit surprised to learn that the infamous Resistance leader had been a traitor. The witch strolled to hearth and leaned against it, feigning obliviousness to the emotions of the two humans.

"Why are you here, Fiona?" Phil asked after a long moment.

"Oh, several reasons. The biggest is to talk to Callie, but I'm guessing that she's not here."

"No." He said shortly. When he did not elaborate, she sighed dramatically.

"You former leeches are so hard to predict. Julius gets nicer, you get pricklier, and Zar didn't change a bit."

Though Fiona noted that Lucky did not seem surprised by the phrase "former leeches", Phil flinched like he'd been slapped. "Julius? He's…"

"He was traveling with Vanessa Van Helsing the last I saw him. Seems like a good guy," she added, because though she had long suspected that, she very much doubted that Phil did.

"You have to be joking. Julius? With everything he's done? He-"

"Stones and glasses house, mate." Fiona interjected, a slight edge in her voice, and Phil studied her for a second.

"You still like him."

"I barely know this version of him. I've never disliked him, and he's regained a moral compass, so he's at least likable. He's certainly still useful. So maybe you could avoid shooting him on sight, yeah?"

He scowled at her, though she couldn't be sure if it was for the implication that he would shoot someone on sight, or because she had asked him not too. Silence stretched for several seconds, and it was Lucky that broke it.

"What do you want with Callie?" The question was harsh, the tone suspicious. Fiona narrowed her eyes.

"I don't harm kids, lass, and I'd appreciate if you'd stop implying that." She looked to Phil and continued, "I want to offer her a chance to join my organization. My best case scenario is that Cormac takes her on as an apprentice."

"Cormac? Not you?" Phil asked, both suspicious and a little relieved. If it weren't for how well-liked Cormac was, Fiona might have been offended by that.

"Sure. Kids tend to take better to druidcraft than to hemomancy, and it's about time he had an apprentice."

"Why would she want to go with you?" Lucky challenged. "She's seen you associating with vampires."

"She's associated with vampires. Did you even talk to the kid? She was feeding one of her friends-turned-vamps back when she was at your Resistance field hospital. Besides, we've got electricity, running water, fortifications-"

Horror crawled across Phil's face. "You're going to raise a child in Dunsinane?"

"No, I'm not. But for the record, I resent that implication. Dunsinane is one of the safest places in the world, especially in the current food chain. No one comes to any harm there that they don't consent to."

Lucky raised an eyebrow at the specific wording of that last sentence, and looked to Phil. "What's she mean by that? What's Dunsinane?"

"Her castle in the mountains. It was like one of those… those hotel and conference centers, but for vampires. I've only heard about it. As far as I know, no one uses it anymore. "

"The vampires don't use it anymore." Fiona corrected. "They don't really need to. But we still get magicians, therianthropes, Carpiani- even a few humans. Then and now, Dunsinane is hidden, neutral ground."

"The hell is a therianthrope?"

"A nice Latin name for a werebeast. I try to use the term because, shockingly, people don't like being called beasts. I shortened it to therians for a while, but Cormac told me that that's a kink name now, so here we are."

Phil rubbed his face with his hand, as though he couldn't fathom that he had heard that sentence come out of a three-hundred-year-old witch. "Look, the kid's not here. We sent her off with some of the survivors from her group."

Fiona sighed again. "Mate, I gave her to you because you used to be breathtakingly efficient at executing orders. Hold on to her, I said. A very simple request."

"I don't take orders from people like you anymore."

The Celt cocked her head. "And you think Vanessa isn't like me? Well, in some ways, I guess you're right. I'm not that vicious. Not that bloodthirsty."

"Bullshit." The response was immediate, quiet but fierce. "I've heard the stories- you've told me some of them yourself. What you did to that Gabriel guy. What you did to Mercer in front of us."

"What I did to Mercer was business. He made an open and dramatic threat against my people. If I hadn't reacted equally dramatically, someone might have thought that they could follow through on those threats."

"And what empty threats did Gabriel make to earn a decade of torture?"

The switch flipped, and her face shut down; for one irrational moment, a shot of fear went up Phil's spine. Coldly, matter-of-factly, she replied, "He ripped my newborn son from my arms and dashed his head open against the wall."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening, made all the worse by it's length. Phil's mouth fell open slightly, then snapped shut, and he looked away, appropriately ashamed. Fiona drew her flask from her jacket and took a sip, noting that, for the first time since she'd stepped in the room, Lucky did not look at her like she thought Fiona a rabid dog. After a long, long minute, Lucky asked, "What did you do to him?"

A shadow seemed to slide across her eyes. Lucky likely thought it a trick of the light, but Phil knew better; for a split-second, her eyes had turned as black as they had been when fury had gripped her two years ago.

Finally, the Celt said, "More than I should have, but less than he deserved." She took another long swig of whisky and added, "Circling back to my original point, Gabriel was a Van Helsing. I've seen that kind of rage pop up every few generations in their family. Their obsessions with hunting vampires doesn't really lend itself to mental stability."

"Vanessa isn't like that." Phil insisted quietly, though a seed of doubt sat deep in his chest, planted by the wave of incomprehensible agony he had felt some weeks ago, when some still-unknown event had caused Vanessa such pain that it exploded into him through the link between them. The road back from that kind of pain would not be easy, and in the current world, it would likely not be bloodless.

Fiona took another swig from her flask, rescrewed the lid, and tucked the flask back into her jacket. "This group you sent Callie off with," She began, pointedly changing the subject, "Do you have a description of them, or a last known direction of travel?"

Phil glanced towards Lucky, already preparing to protest when she snarled, "And why the hell would we tell you that?"

"For Christ's sake, will you lay off it already?" Fiona snapped. "You threw the kid into an apocalyptic wasteland, and I'm trying to get her back to civilization. Let's stop acting like I'm the one in the wrong here."

"You-"

"Lucky!" Phil interjected sharply, earning him an annoyed look from the taller woman and a tired one from the shorter. He hastily added, in a gentler tone, "Lucky, please." Anger thundered across the woman's face, but before she could retort, Phil looked to Fiona and said, "Look, we're going to need a bit more here. We can't just send you after her without some assurances."

A muscle clenched in Fiona's jaw. You can't send me after her because you don't know where she fucking is, she mentally corrected. And you don't know where she fucking is because you couldn't be bothered to look after her for twelve hours. But Fiona figured Lucky to be only a few sharp words away from either all-out screaming or gunfire, and she had not made so many allies by escalating tense situations.

"And just what would make you feel assured?" The witch ground out. Phil glanced towards Lucky, suddenly unsure. Yeah, that's what I bloody thought.

"Well…" Phil began, "To start, if you don't want to take her to Dunsinane, where are you taking her?"

Fiona grimaced, knowing exactly how they would react to her answer. "I can't tell you that, mate."

Lucky snorted derisively. Phil shot Fiona an exasperated look and said, "You know we can't take that answer."

"Look, the fact that nobody knows about it is what's kept us alive this long. Everyone knows about Dunsinane, and one of these days, its going to get hit hard. Hell, if it weren't for this goddam apocalypse, the DOJ would have sacked it already." At their astonished looks, Fiona elaborated, "This fucking magician prick had a day-job as a Blacktech executive, and with the government sponsored shadiness they're involved in, the FBI was breathing down my neck for a bloody month before the Rising." Sweet Mary, what a headache that was.

"That isn't exactly reassuring."

"My point is," Fiona replied testily, "If I want to keep this place safe, I can't go around advertising it like I did Dunsinane.

"Does Julius know about it?"

"Flesh-"

"Phil!" He snapped, halfway to shouting, and Fiona paused.

"...Phil." She amended.

"Does he know?"

The witch briefly considered lying. "Yes, but only because I'm holding out hoping on recruiting him. I had my eye on him for an apprentice a few decades back. Second chances are rare. I've learned to jump on them."

"And you think that makes him more trustworthy than us?" Phil kept the volume level, but there was venom in his voice. Fiona cocked an eyebrow and looked pointedly to Lucky.

"He's not openly aggressive towards me, so he's already ahead of you two."

"And what's it say that the blood-sucking monster is the only one who likes you?" Lucky shot back.

Fiona's lips twitched back towards a snarl, but she schooled her face towards dower neutrality. "You got questions, and I'll answer what I can. But I'm not telling you where it is because, like it or not, I can't trust you."

A mix of emotions spasmed across Phil's face- frustration, bitterness, distrust, anger. His next questions came short and almost harsh.

"What'd you call this one?"

"Elsinore."

"How many people?"

"Around a hundred adults, about twenty kids, and a handful of teens."

"How many vampires?" When Phil asked that with such surety, Lucky glanced from him to Fiona with renewed distaste. The witch was quickly growing tired of that expression.

"Four vampires, three therianthropes, three Carpiani."

"What do you mean by Carpiani?"

"A people from the Carpathian Mountains. They're true shapeshifters, among other things."

"Are they blood suckers?"

"The Carpiani and therianthropes both can get a boost off it, but they don't need it to survive."

Before Phil could ask anything else, Lucky interjected, "How do you feed the vampires?"

From her tone, the woman might have imagined dungeons of captured humans, or that those who stepped out of line in Elsinore were dragged off, never to be seen again. She supposed that she couldn't fault her for the assumption, given how most of the organized vampires ran their territories. No vision for the future, Fiona mentally scoffed, not for the first time. Living bodies replenish their blood. It's unsustainable in the long run to kill people.

"All the adults are on a rotating schedule of mandatory blood donations." They had also, on a few rare occasions, drained perpetrators of capital offenses, but Fiona guessed that that fact would not be well received. "We divide the blood between the leeches, the hospital, trade, and magic."

Phil's eyes widened at that. "Hospital? You have a hospital?"

"We've had it going since the 60s. The Rising got a few of our nurses, but we have a complete medical team, physical therapist and all. Even got a handful of psychiatrists. Damn, do those poor bastards have a shit job nowadays."

"Christ." Phil muttered, both humans momentarily stalled at the idea of a functioning hospital.

Fiona took the opportunity to cheekily add, "We also have a rec building with a cinema on the first floor." She let silence sit in the room for a few minutes before asking, "Still think the kid's better off out here?"

"...We don't know where they were headed." Phil admitted quietly.

"I've gathered." Fiona replied testily. "Direction of travel?"

"Phil." Lucky interjected.

"They have a hospital, Lucky."

"They also have vampires, Phil. Vampires and fucking shape-shifters."

"Don't forget the gypsies, tramps and thieves." Fiona put in with venomous sarcasm. Lucky shot her a black look, and the witch only crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Phil expectantly.

He stared at Lucky. Lucky stared at him. "Northwest." He finally said, and she relaxed.

Fiona straightened from the hearth, green eyes alight with anger as they flickered between the two humans. "I see." She made a motion and said a word, and a sudden gust of wind had the front door slamming open. "Devon, scout to the southeast. Probably couldn't have gone further than fifteen miles." He made an unhappy grating sound; they both knew it was a long shot. "I know. Just do your best."

Thick, awkward silence filled the room as the raven glided out into the night. Phil eventually broke it.

"You have to understand why we can't trust you."

"I understand why lemmings follow each other off cliffs. It doesn't make them any less stupid for it."

Lucky's face hardened at the open insult, and though she didn't raise the barrel of her gun, she shifted the stock to a more ready position against her shoulder. "It's time for you to leave."

Fiona's eyes focused on the gun, expression turning cold and flat as her gaze slowly traveled up the weapon to the woman who held it. "Do you think," She mused, voice bone-chillingly void of emotion, "That I could've traded you two for her? They wouldn't have eaten Phil, granted, but you, you're fairly young, healthy, strong… and I bet I could've used him to find Vanessa, if they really are sire-bonded." She cocked her head. "Have you been having dreams, Phil? Following impulses you don't know how to explain?"

His face shut down, betraying nothing, but the way Lucky's eyes widened and darted to him was all the answer Fiona needed. So it's true. The Celt barked a small, bitter laugh and looked toward the ceiling with detachment to quote, "Hail, horrors, hail…" And receive thy new possessor, those goddamn Van Helsings.

The Czar was right: they could build an army of devoted vampire hunters, of fanatic human purests. Gabriel had managed to infiltrate a fortified castle with nothing but a handful of mercenaries. If he had had a true cult around him… Fiona's eyes drifted back to Phil, cold calculations flashing behind her eyes. If she used his blood to track down Vanessa, could she end this nightmare? How many of her people would die if she chose not to? If she did?

She took a breath and let her emotions filter back in. Heh. Now who's having delusions of heroism?

"Fiona." Phil prompted uncertainly. When she looked back at him, and her expression was no longer brutally cold and callous, some of the tension eased from his body. He nodded towards the doors and said a firm, "Please."

She looked between Lucky and Phil one last time. "I've been telling everyone to stay clear of this Van Helsing mess, but you know what? You two do what you want." She paused in the doorway to add, "And remember that the next time you put a bullet in me or mine, I'll do something about it."

When Silus stepped out of one of their safehouses at sunset, found Fiona drinking on the porch.

"I see it didn't go well."

She drummed her fingers against her flask. "Ever have one of those days that makes you miss when they put cocaine and opium in everything? I'd've killed for some laudanum a few hours ago."

"Fiona, darling, the only drug I was consuming in those days was you, and I've never gone off it." She let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes. "And my adventure went swimmingly, thank you for asking. Dr. Avani will be singing your praises when she gets her hands on all of it."

"Maria?"

He shrugged. "She went her own way."

Fiona sighed and drug a hand down her face. "Everyone we try to help would rather slap our hand away and die out here than take a chance on trusting us."

Silus hummed contemplatively as he scooped her out of her rocking chair like she weighed nothing- she gave a surprised squeal of a laugh that, for a moment, made her seem young again- and settled onto it himself, holding her on his lap. She laughed again and rested her head against his chest, enjoying the way his voice vibrated through it when he spoke.

"This feud between the Romanovs- pardon me, Romanov- and the Van Helsings is not helping your public image, my dear. It worked to our advantage to have a certain reputation in Portland, but now that reputation is on the move."

"Aye. I'm starting to fear that my tomcat is eating my chickens along with the rats."

Silus chuckled. "My, what a metaphor. You know, if the cat is causing you trouble, you have four loyal, vicious hounds waiting for your every command."

"Against the Czar, you're four Chihuahuas."

"Hmm. Jack Russels?" He bargained. "Small, yes, but tenacious, brutal little dogs. Four of us could kill a cat."

"I appreciate it, but that's one pet I'd have to put down myself."

"Hmm. How would you do it?" His voice was low and rich with heated curiosity. Fiona smiled and tilted her head up to kiss his neck.

"Like that idea, love? Been jealous lately?"

"Always, darling. Of every other bastard that's ever had their fangs in you." He dropped his head to mutter against the curve of her neck, "And all of us, every single one, would kill the others and keep you all for themselves if they could."

She smiled at the flattery, and teased, "You don't have to try so hard, y'know. I'll have to give you a drink sometime today. Can't have you foaming at the mouth."

"But where's the romance in that?" He cried over-dramatically, lifting his head to flash her a wide, jesting smile that made his eyes sparkle and fangs flash. "Where's the allure, the sex appeal? If being a vampire doesn't make me supernaturally irresistible for all eternity, then I don't want it."

"Right, right. My bad." She cleared her throat and began, as though reading from a bad play, "Oh, Silus, you've enchanted me so-"

He mimed as though he would shove her off his lap, and she laughed again. "You're a cruel, vindictive little creature."

They stayed cuddled on the porch for several long minutes, until the last rays of light had faded from the sky and the crickets had begun to chirp around them. Then the witch stood and stretched.

"Let's get moving. Cormac called on the Sat phone while you were asleep, and Tabby's still asking for that stuffed bear from the bunker. Thought we'd swing by and grab it while we're out."