He smiled happily as he watched her sleeping, lifted his Tablet, and plugged his earpiece into his com unit on his belt. He couldn't help liking her; everything about the girl screamed 'keeper'; hell, she was as close to perfect for him as any he'd known, and more than a little hard to walk away from, not that he ever wanted to. Still this was all too good to be true, and it was far from fair to her to wind up with a killer because of these circumstances. Fuck he was falling for her - hard.

She was a victim of all this, and he didn't want to compound that by dragging her into his troubles. Still, he wanted to see her face as she slept every night for the rest of his life. He wanted to keep her smiling, laughing, breathing. He was scaring himself. All her talk about being in love, kids, all of it a result of her emotional overload and being brought back here to find answers - so he told himself - was sounding better and better to him; as long as it was her. He was starting to feel like an even bigger selfish prick.

He opened the tablet screen, and soon a face of a fifty year-old, balding caucasian man appeared.

"No bullshit boy," The older man muttered angrily into the young assassins earpiece, "Where the hell have you been?"

Evan smiled in spite of himself as Lara curled up against his hips and flopped her right arm lazily onto his lap. "Antiquing," he typed as Lara's hand slip up his inner-thigh before tucking snuggly into his crotch.

She sighed happily.

"Yes... Antiquing - with the Countess of Abbingdon I understand. Good to see you're still with her, and she hasn't vanished after all."

"About that British national in Osaka 'Charles' I think his name was," The young assassin continued to type.

"Never existed," The older man stated flatly, "no body was found, nor blood, nor office. The place had been stripped bare in under twelve hours from the 'alleged' shooting... you're off that hook, no thanks to us. Whoever he was, he was too important to whoever was behind the hotel hit to keep solid - we suspect he was incinerated, or was dissolved with acid. The place was covered with about fifteen gallons of bleach. No hair, no prints, no records... and the buildings owners were all dead of natural causes, or suicide. Who are these people Evan?"

Evan gasped and looked down as Lara squeezed his erection through his shorts; she was awake, and smiling at him. He smiled back, winked, and answered the man, "No fucking clue," he said directly, and yanked out his ear piece and switched on the audio "But they have it in their heads that she has information she doesn't, and they have decided in their collective wisdom she needs to be silenced... fast."

Lara grimaced as she rose to sitting and stared at the middle-aged man's face.

"Countess Croft," the man sighed tiredly, "good to see you're well. I'm Albert. Might I ask... why 'hook-up' with this degenerate?"

Her mouth fell open.

"You're all heart," Evan sighed out, "...dad."

"He's a fantastic lover," she stated bluntly.

The man was stunned.

Evan blushed.

"Right, " the older man said quietly after a profound silence.

Lara cocked an eyebrow.

"I get it, I get it," the older Carter quickly responded, "I'll stay out of it. You found a woman like your mother after all boy... good luck."

"I can hear you," a woman shouted from somewhere behind the man on the screen, "you twit!"

Lara smiled as a beautiful woman of some forty years stepped into the screen and kissed the man's bald head, then looked at Lara. Her eyes burst wide.

"Damn boy, where did you find her? a wet dream?"

Lara grinned.

"Andria, meet the Countess of Abbingdon," the older man said as he blushed crimson, "Richa...,"

"Dicky Croft's daughter?," the woman asked, "So, where are you two? Malaysia? Some labyrinth beneath the Parthenon? A tea party in Wonderland?"

"Mother!," Evan almost screamed.

Lara burst out laughing.

"Beauty, and a sense of humor?," Evan's mother said in amazement, "Why is she with him?"

"Apparently he makes her... 'happy' in bed," the father answered with a nervous stammer.

"Good boy!," his mother cheered, "all the way dear?," she asked Lara.

Lara nodded.

"Back to the important business - please?," the father interrupted.

"We are presently chasing down our only possible lead," Evan said, "The fellow who spotted her here, and called the invisible corpse 'Charles', and set up the hit."

"Where is 'here' boy?," his father asked.

"Yamatai," Lara answered.

The mother's face almost went white, "I'd have prefered Wonderland," she all but whispered.

"Believe me," Lara added, "me to."

"Keep all this on the down low for at least half a year or so," Evan interjected, "We can't get too detailed about any of it. No government contacts you two, for your own sakes. These folks are scary. We'll fill you in when we meet in person. By the way Dad, did you get my photos and sample results? It was her?"

The older man nodded, "Rene wants to meet you Countess Croft," Evan's father said, "alone. He wants you to bring his daughter's ashes to him. He has something... for your eyes and ears alone."

"Should I go?," she asked.

"You're nervous about Pierre?," the mother asked with a laugh, "Rene cut him off a year ago when he didn't even look for his sister. As long as the father lives, the son dares not set foot on European soil. He's a braggart and a failure, just a rich one. However, once out of Europe, be ready."

"Anything else Evan?," his father asked.

"No," Evan sighed out, "just be extra careful, this lot is something special, and not in a good way."

"Piss off!" his father said with a laugh, "Nice to meet you Lady Croft."

"Please, call me Lara."

"Take care of our boy Lara," his mother added, "glad to hear he keeps up for you."

"Good night you two!," Evan almost shouted, and shut off the tablet.

She curled up closer to him, "Now I see where you get it from," she sighed as she caressed his abs.

"What?," he asked as he kissed her forehead, "the alcoholism?"

She giggled, and turned her lips to his, "Very funny," she moaned as she kissed him, and slid onto his lap, facing him.

He looked in her eyes, and lingered there: warm, safe, happy, home. "Whatever you want, take from me." he sighed.

"Only want one thing," she whispered into his mouth.

"Yes," he gasped.

"Tomorrow," she sighed, "everyday for the rest of my life"

"Nag, nag, nag," he moaned into her neck as she pulled off her shirt.

...

He had crawled from the burning embers of the town, covered in ash and blood. He was weakened, but far from finished.

The pair had vanished from the scene, too soon to see the sacred mound upon which the town was built. He was certain the girl's shooter boyfriend would see no import to it; but the girl might. She might remember her father, and his love of Druid culture, and mysticism. He had to end her now, before morning.

He was going to need new toys, new pets.

He heard the wolves in the distance, howling at the moon... good doggies.

This would hurt, but within a minute of the first bite, he would very soon have her scent, and a pack of pure hunters to feed her to.