Luach had not gone far up the trail before the alarming sounds of the ATVs and gunfire told him that the two assailants had gone after Demona and not him. He wondered how well the cloak he was wearing had hid him and if they had any idea he was about as well. Demona had been quite unnerved at the sight of their weapons and armor. Luach hadn't any more than a utility knife and he suspected that whatever catastrophe those menacing weapons were capable of, the small blade wouldn't be much of a match for them. He had no idea who the riders were, what they guarded, or exactly what danger Demona was truly in, least of all, what he could do to help her. Still, he couldn't leave her to unknown peril, and the other gargoyles wouldn't wake for hours.

Resolutely, he made his way down the embankment and followed the ATVs past the broken chain that had been meant to warn trespassers. It was over a mile before Luach reached them, and he crept up on a strange building, like a bunker built of cinder blocks. A chain link fence topped with coils of barbed wire surrounded the building, but he could just see the back end of one of the ATVs peeking out from behind the corner. Luach heard some scuffling sounds from that direction as well. He made his way along the outside of the fence, trying to be as stealthy as possible as he picked through thick, thorny weeds and brush.

To his dismay, he discovered that Demona had been captured and perhaps even injured by the assailants. She leant against the cinderblock wall, slightly hunched, as her defiant glare all but bore holes in the woman who was holding an assault rifle inches from her chest. The man had taken her bag and was searching through it.

"You two idiots will pay for this," Demona glowered confidently at her captor, who laughed and tauntingly poked at her stomach with the end of her rifle.

"I think not," the man replied, as he removed the envelope with the fake ID and passport, "We know who you are and what you're trying to do. It's 'game over' for you, Demona."

The woman laughed again as Demona snarled at them, "Not nearly so impressive without the fangs and talons, Monster. I say we forget the boss and turn her straight over to Castaway. I'd bet he'd give us a pretty generous finders fee for this one! They've been looking for her for a long time!"

"Well, well, looky, here!" the man exclaimed delightedly, as he held up the envelope bearing the return address of Xanatos Enterprises.

"Guess who's been helping the would-be destroyer of the world all along! David Xanatos! As if we didn't know!"

The woman shook her head contemptuously.

"That traitor ought to be strung up in the middle of Times Square like a pinata!"

"Well, these papers in the right hands ought to get him at least halfway there. He swore to the police and the mayor that he wasn't keeping her from justice, but we all knew what a liar he was! Now we have proof!"

"More importantly," the woman replied, giving Demona a blood-thirsty look, "We have her. Straight to Castaway, I say, and then we'll see some justice at last!"

"Wait a minute though," the man replied cautiously, "The boss will kill us if we don't bring her to him first. He don't trust the Quarrymen. They don't know about her like he does. They can make her suffer, but he's the only one who can finish her off."

"He won't though," the woman protested with a tone of open disgust, "He's too soft on gargoyles. Thinks they're noble creatures that can be reasoned with!"

"He ain't soft on her," the man argued, giving Demona a glare, "He knows what she's about and what she would do to humanity if we let her have the chance. When it comes down to it, he's the only one that can do what needs to be done."

The woman glanced at the captive at the other end of her gun. To her surprise, she found Demona not the least bit disturbed by the gruesome nature of their conversation. Rather, her eyes were eagerly fixed on her and a wicked smile had spread across her face.

"Well, which is it, my dear?" Demona asked in a voice dripping with malice as she tauntingly pressed past the weapon and reached for her captor's face as if to stroke her, "I would love to see them both! Frankly, I can hardly wait!"

"I will shoot you!" the woman threatened, pressing her back with the gun in repulsion, but Demona laughed at her callously.

"You shot me a moment ago," she reminded her, and she pulled down the shoulder of her dress to show her the wound already closed, "You can shoot me again, if you like. Again and again!" Demona laughed once more as she shoved the armed woman back. The woman uneasily raised her weapon toward Demona's face, her confidence clearly put off by this display of insanity.

"One of us will be dead by tomorrow," Demona whispered to her gleefully, "Who do you think it will be?"

Shakily, the woman took two steps back as her captive advanced on her, armed with nothing but madness, but her partner had taken up his own weapon and shoved Demona face forward against the saddle of the ATV, where he went to work, binding her hands behind her back.

Luach had been watching this entire exchange in horror, from behind the fence. Now, he knew he had to act, and he pulled the hood back from his face as he reached for the top of the fence, determined to scale it. Demona glanced up from her humiliating position just in time to catch sight of him and her eyes widened. Luach paused, catching her gaze. She shook her head at him pleadingly, then turned her neck to give a slight nod toward the woven bag which, with the remainder of its contents, had been discarded on the ground by the man. Astounded, Luach pointed toward the bag, and Demona nodded, just before the woman covered her head with a sack she had found and Demona turned her attention to struggling against them.

To his sorrow, Luach watched as the man violently bound her hands and feet together and strapped her down tightly to the cargo shelf of his vehicle, beating her several times with his weapon, until she lay still. Luach had to remind himself that Demona was immortal. That is what Goliath had told him. She had survived many such encounters through the centuries. The man could not kill her and she did not fear pain. Luach knew that she wished for him to retrieve her bag and not attempt to stop her abduction, so despite the pain that witnessing her abuse caused him, he turned his attention toward doing just that.

"Open the gate," the man irritably demanded of his partner and she used a remote on her keychain that raised an opening in the fence wide enough for a vehicle to pass through. Luach saw his chance and raced toward the opening, ducking inside and heading toward Demona's bag. If the assailants would have noticed the sound of his footprints or the rise in dust from the gravel as he passed them, they were too distracted by the task of wrapping the hogtied body strapped in open view on their cargo shelf with a tarp. Luach retrieved the bag easily and raced toward the gate with moments to spare. For a brief moment, he contemplated the prospect of jumping on the back of the woman's ATV without being noticed, but it was too late. The motors were started and a cloud of dust followed them as they raced away down the road.

Distressed, Luach did not know what to do. He wanted to follow and see where they had taken her, but there was no way he could keep up on foot. In the distance, the sun had formed a red circle over the mountain haze. It would set, but not for over an hour. He thought of the horrible things he'd heard. In an hour, she could be either in the hands of a man with the will and power to destroy her, or those of another man with the will, but not the power, who would torture her relentlessly, trying to do so.

"Oh, Demona," he whispered his promise as he raced back toward the sleeping gargoyles, "Hold on. We're coming for you."