The holidays came and went and Xanatos brought his family back from Maine. He had apparently given up trying to figure out how Demona had escaped and settled on making sure it didn't happen again. Lexington was recruited to help with programming the devices that controlled her implants and increasing security by adding secondary measures of tracking her.

She continued going to the sitting room to visit Hudson regularly, but was now happy to see that there was typically someone else already with him. Angela, in particular, had taken to sitting and listening to him tell stories of the clan in Scotland and had even begun to write many of them down in a journal. When Goliath visited, they often recounted the best stories together. If Demona happened to come by at an opportunity where the three of them were talking together, she would join them in the sitting room and listen silently from the corner, careful not to let her countenance give away her enjoyment. The only stories she didn't care for were the ones that mentioned her former self. Goliath would turn to her hopefully and ask if she remembered some incident or other and she would nod. She did remember, but it was strange. It was not like remembering herself as much as remembering an old friend that was gone forever. Thinking of her former self caused her to mourn and she had no tolerance for it.

She still left tokens and offerings for the child of Oberon, even though she hadn't seen him in months. She wondered if he'd gotten in trouble with his elders for helping her, or if he was merely bored with her company. The tokens were usually taken, and often replaced with a sweet dream or a flower, but in December, she'd noticed several of her offerings were left untouched. Concerned that he'd become bored with her gifts as well, she began trying other kinds of offerings, such as different sweets and even some puppets and figurines she made from discarded items she'd found in the castle. Eventually, those began to be accepted and she was relieved that the fairy hadn't left her for good.

Near the end of February, Xanatos and his staff were tremendously busy preparing for a gala event that Xanatos Enterprises was hosting to raise money for New York's first responders. The theme was "Fire and Ice" and the event was to include a stunning array of lighted ice sculptures and even an ice castle large enough for children to play inside. Dancers who would entertain the guests with fire-eating and stunts that involved burning hoops, flaming fans, and fiery poi. The main guests were to arrive in the evening for dinner, but Xanatos had the idea of hosting a private party for his staff and their children, prior to the main event. His publicist loved the idea and had hired photographers to do a photo shoot of the children playing in the ice castle and enjoying the festivities.

Demona, of course, knew nothing of the event, and had decided to relax and enjoy the sunshine in the conservatory. She was walking through the dining room when she was surprised by Xanatos' father, who was being drug around on a tour of the castle by Xanatos' young son, who was dressed to the nines and very excited about being invited to attend such an important event. She had seen the man before, but he didn't recognize her in her human form. He was a handsome, but stern-looking man who suffered no fools. He clearly took a dim view of a woman in a loincloth wandering around his son's dining room.

"Miss, are you…with the performers?" he asked suspiciously.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you here to perform for the gala?" he asked again.

"Certainly not! I live here in the castle."

He was clearly unsatisfied with this response, "Are you a friend…or a relation of Fox's then?" She looked with uncertainty from the older gentleman and then at David Xanatos as he and his wife entered the room from the hallway. Xanatos gave her a warning look and her expression became a bit sinister. Casting him a glowing smile, tinged with mischief, she said, "No, I am not. I am just a local murderous lunatic. Your son keeps me locked in a cell downstairs, so I don't kill again." The boy burst into giggles and Fox looked horrified.

"David, who is this madwoman?" the gentleman demanded of his son.

"Oh, Pop!" he scolded and rolled his eyes as he put his arm around his father's shoulder and guided him toward the elevators, "She just told you!"

Downstairs, the pre-gala festivities were in full swing. Around fifty children of Xanatos Enterprise employees were dressed in their best and a team of photographers captured their amazement as they wandered around an indoor winter wonderland. A snowmachine completed the effect as the children gasped in wonder at the beautifully illuminated ice castle. There was a large slide on one end of the structure and the children excitedly lined up inside the castle to sit on large sheets of felt and sail down the icy chute to the rest of the display, which was on the lower level, around the pool. Colorful, floating lanterns illuminated the water as the young guests admired a gallery of ice sculptures, most of which were sponsored by local organizations. At the end of the display, the children were greeted with tables of cakes, cookies, and other treats and a stage where the fire dancers were preparing to perform.

At the back of the stage was a small trailer, which had the name of the performance company in neon paint. The doors on the back were closed, and the dancers presumably waited inside. Once the children and their parents had gathered at the foot of the stage, the performance began and the guests cheered as two male dancers burst from the trailer, twirling and cracking whips that were engulfed in flames. Shortly later, they were joined by two female dancers who were each gracefully waving two ornate, metallic fans adorned with several small torches that glowed enchantingly with colorful flame. To the side of the stage, stood a broad man with a bald head and a thick, dark beard. He seemed to be the man in charge of the show, on which he was keeping a careful eye, but his full attention seemed to be on the audience, including the children who were clamoring at the edge of the stage, less than a yard from the feet of the performers. Occasionally, he leant to the side to say something to a stagehand who was crouched down at the corner of the stage with his back to the audience, almost invisible, holding a large, black blanket, presumably in case a performer suffered a fire-related mishap. The manager changed the music and the dancers transitioned to fiery hoops and poi. The younger audience members were particularly excited by the way the blazing poi created different patterns as the dancers spun and swung them around the stage and after the dancers ended the set with a dramatic pose, the manager came to the front of the stage and announced,

"Now we need some volunteers! How many of you young folks would like to have a lesson at spinning poi?" The children cheered in excitement and the manager added, "Don't worry moms and dads! We have battery-operated poi for the youngsters!" The children groaned in disappointment that they wouldn't be allowed to play with actual flames, but many still raised their hands with enthusiasm. The manager stepped down from the stage and gestured for three boys to come up, asking for each of them to introduce themselves to the audience. The third boy he chose was Alexander, Xanatos' son, who mounted the stage with a somewhat shy, but enthusiastic smile. Xanatos made eye contact with Owen, who stood directly beside the stage and responded with a discrete nod.

"What's your name, kiddo?" the manager asked him.

"Alexander," the boy replied confidently.

"Alexander the Great?" the manager joked with him.

"No. Alexander the Greatest!" he corrected with a gleaming smile and the adults in the audience chuckled at his precociousness. The manager laughed as well and gave a nod to the stage hand.

"I'll bet you are, kid," he responded, and handed him a set of illuminated, plastic orbs. The manager chose four more boys and girls, and then set to teaching them the most basic way to keep the poi spinning. As he instructed the children, the dancers disappeared into the trailer. Most of the children were not overly successful with the poi and there was a great deal of laughter as their attempts at spinning resulted in dropping them, smacking themselves in the face, and in one case, sending a pair sailing into the crowd. The audience was so engaged with the children and the poi that the dancers had taken their places at the sides of the stage before anyone had noticed the obvious explosives strapped to their chests. Quickly the frivolity in the room melted down into confused and fearful quiet as nearly everyone froze in horror, trying to make sense of four dancers silently standing feet from their children wearing what appeared to be bombs.

"Now, everyone remain calm," the manager ordered, his voice having become cold and grim as he watched the security team begin to close in, "And there will be no tragedies today." But the audience was not remaining calm. Many of the children had begun running back to their parents and there was a great deal of screaming, crying, and pandemonium as people grabbed their children and rushed for the doors. The manager began screaming at the people as this panic was clearly not how he had intended his hostage situation to go. But as the people ran away, the security guards ran forward, and Owen threw a flash bomb into the middle of it that stunned and blinded everyone.

By the time everyone began to regain their senses, the security guards had taken the dancers and the manager down and Xanatos was running through what was left of the crowd, shouting for them to head down to the lobby.

"I ordered you to check the possessions of every person who came in here! How did those explosives get past security?!" Xanatos demanded of his security team, clearly enraged.

"Because they aren't explosives, sir," the head of security explained, holding up one of the contraptions he'd taken off a dancer, "They're completely fake. That's why our sensors didn't pick up anything."
"What is this?!" he bellowed at the five terrorists, who were now all face down on the stage, each with a security guard's knee in their back.

"You'll see soon enough," the manager growled at him and a moment later, the police burst into the atrium, weapons drawn, and took over the situation.

"David!" Xanatos' father called to him from the floor in front of the stage, "Where is Alex?" Alarmed, Xanatos looked around the stage area. The children who had been demonstrating the poi had all run away during the commotion, but Alex was nowhere to be seen. By this point, all the guests had fled the atrium, and aside from the criminals, the police, and Xanatos, his father, and his wife who was frantically searching for her son, there was no one left.

"Alex? Alex!" he called, still looking around at the empty atrium, "Did you see where he went, Pop?"

"I didn't see him once the flash bomb went off!"

The police were hauling the dance troop away, along with the manager who laughed tauntingly at Xanatos.

"Wait!" his father called out, "There was another man with them! Where is the stagehand?"

"Owen!" Xanantos ordered, "Tell the police that there is still another loose in the building and he might have Alex. Show them the security cameras. Dad, you and Fox keep looking for him!" Xanatos turned quickly and raced toward the elevators.

High above the chaos, Alex was being led along a corridor by a stranger, toward the private elevator that led to the castle atop the tower.

"Hurry!" the man urged him, "Your mother wants you to stay safe in your room until the danger is past."

"But, why isn't Owen taking me?" the boy asked suspiciously as the stranger pulled rather aggressively on his arm.

"Owen is busy," the man explained hastily, as they turned a corner and came to a door that required a security code, "He's helping catch the bad guys. I'm supposed to take you to your room but I don't know the code. Can you put it in?" Alex hesitated.

"Hurry!" the man urged, "They could be coming this way!" Alex laid his hand on a metal plate beside the door, and a green light came on over the door handle, followed by a clicking sound.

"Yes!" the man cried as he opened the door and he hustled Alex toward the elevator. The boy watched his maniacal face with great apprehension.

"I can go up by myself," he said cautiously, "I know how to get in."

"No, no. I'd better go with you, to make sure you're okay."

"But…I-

"That's enough, Buddy," the man growled, seizing his hand and placing it on the metal plate on the operational panel, "Let's get inside!" The door opened and the man pulled him into the elevator. Still nervous, Alex reached for the buttons on the control panel, but the man blocked his arm and pushed the button for access to the walkway on the top of the castle curtain.

"That's the wrong floor,"Alex informed him.

"You know, I was thinking," the man told him with feigned casualness, "Those scary bad guys downstairs might leave if the gargoyles came down and fought them."

"What gargoyles?" the boy asked uneasily.

"The gargoyles your father keeps on the roof of the castle," the man explained patronizingly as he pulled him out of the elevator and onto the curtain wall. He pointed to the north tower.

"There they are! Now, be a good boy and open the door to the tower," the man demanded.

"Those are just statues," Alex told him.

"Don't lie to me, boy!" the man snarled. His voice had become menacing as he grabbed his shirt and drug him to the door at the base of the tower, which had another security panel, "We both know your father is hiding these monsters here, endangering the whole city for the sake of his own vanity. Now, open this door!"

"I can't!" the child protested, trying to yank himself free.

"That's right, he can't!" came a voice behind them, and the stranger pulled the boy to the side long enough to grab a knife from the pocket on his backpack. He then hoisted the boy in front of himself, making him into a shield between himself and Xanatos, who held a powerful-looking assault rifle.

"Let my son go, Canmore!" Xanatos demanded.

"I'm afraid that's not about to happen," the Hunter growled with an evil smile, "You see, I've got business to attend to, and I'm willing to bet you won't put bullets through this cute little kid of yours, even to protect your own personal troop of demons." The Hunter took the knife and held it against Alex's stomach.

"No!" Xanatos shouted.

"Lay down the gun, if you want the boy to live," he ordered. Xanatos slowly laid the weapon on the stone walkway and had the sense to slide it behind himself with as much force as he could muster. The hunter cringed as the loaded rifle spun around, coming to a stop about two yards from the stairway that descended into the courtyard below. Still moving slowly, Xanatos rose and lifted his hands.

"Now what?" he asked calmly, keeping his eyes locked with Alex's.

"Now you give me the code to enter this tower and I destroy these abominations once and for all!"

"I won't do that," Xanatos insisted.

"Oh, I think you will," the Hunter laughed sadistically as he moved the blade of his knife from the child's stomach to his throat.

"You intend to murder an innocent child in order to destroy a few gargoyles?" Xanatos asked accusingly.

"If you make that sacrifice necessary," he answered callously.

"The code will do you no good," Xanatos explained, "That door has a fingerprint recognition system on the lock. I have to be the one to open it." The Hunter looked at him suspiciously for a moment, but he stepped aside from the door and said, "Get on with it then!" Xanatos slowly walked toward them, keeping his eyes on his son. When he got to the door, he slowly turned around toward the Hunter.

"They have done no harm to you or anyone," he pleaded.

"Xanatos," the Hunter warned.

"They only want to protect the vulnerable and innocent!"

The Hunter laughed cruelly.

"You mean, like yourself? That's a hilarious farce, coming from the most over-privileged and ruthless man in the whole of this over-privileged and ruthless city! Keep talking, Xanatos. You're going to kill your own boy."

"I'm telling you, they aren't monsters! They care about honor, loyalty, and justice. They don't have a drop of malice in them!"

"Oh, I don't know if I'd go that far," Demona's chilling voice interrupted, and Xanatos' normally confident gaze filled with panic as he watched her ascending the staircase, taking up his weapon, and aiming it straight at Canmore.

"Adelpha…Please, don't," Xanatos begged, his voice uneasy.

"You!" the Hunter exclaimed in rage, finally recognizing her human form.

"Don't, Adelpha. Don't come closer. He has Alex!"

Her green eyes seethed with hatred as she glared at the Hunter, but she stopped.

"You dare to come here, and threaten us?" she snarled.

She aimed the rifle at him and Xanatos cried, "No!"

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze, and then another moment passed, and still she did not fire. Though she didn't move, she lowered her gaze, as if conflicted. Sensing his only chance at not getting blown away, the Hunter lunged for the parapet, still holding onto the boy. He engaged a device in his backpack, and he leapt again as a parafoil opened over his shoulders to lift him up over the courtyard. Demona, acting on impulse, dropped the rifle and lunged for the Hunter, grabbing onto his arm and releasing Alex. But as the parafoil lifted the three of them, her implants sensed her leaving the confines of her boundaries and everything faded to black as she fell toward the courtyard below.