National City's Vampyr Hunter headquarters featured a distinctly underground, covert-ops chic decor, characterized by sleek black surfaces and grey cement walls. It was a far cry from the Academy's burgundy mahogany staircases, deep green curtains, and varnished oak flooring. It perfectly explained the drastic contrast between Lilian and J'onn's tastes.
Lena sat in one of the comfortable chairs surrounding the meeting room's oval table, her elbows resting firmly against the surface, fingertips gently pressing into her temples as if trying to ease the tension. Sam's miracle double-shot espresso was doing little to quell her migraine after a night spent tossing and turning.
She was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching, heavy and sure. She didn't need to look up from her slouched position to know who they belonged to.
"Good evening, princess," J'onn said in a tone that was entirely too cheerful for Lena's current mood. He placed a hand on her shoulder in what he'd hoped was a comforting gesture.
Lena simply grunted in greeting. She knew all too well that her mentor's words of endearment were more of a sarcastic jab than genuine affection. Adjusting her position, she leaned forward and propped her head up with one hand, her eyelids heavy. A deep sigh followed shortly after.
"Not good evening, then?" J'onn asked, and Lena rolled her eyes at the subtle upturn of his lips. He sat down next to her, placing the stack of papers he carried onto the table.
"You're truly a master of body language." Lena would never admit it out loud, but their comfortable banter had made her feel a tiny bit less annoyed about having gotten little sleep the night before.
"Sarcasm this early in the evening?"
Lena opened her mouth to retort, but J'onn's demeanor instantly changed from teasing to all business as the other team leaders filed into the meeting room one by one. He gave her one last encouraging smile before pushing himself out of the chair to take his position at the head of the table. He stood by until they took their seats, a file tucked under his arm. He wore his usual dark shirt with matching cargo pants.
Lex sat next to Eve, and he promptly ignored Lena's raised eyebrow. She made a mental note to berate him at breakfast tomorrow. Lucy took the vacant seat beside Lena, greeting her with a playful wink. As always, Leslie sat at the other end, facing J'onn.
Lena never understood why he even bothered to use paper anymore—a boomer habit he still hadn't shaken off. Oblivious to the Slayre's silent judgment, he moved around the room and handed out copies of the freshly printed document. It seemed absurd, especially since that very document would soon be displayed on the large screen for everyone to see.
Lena let her head drop onto the table with a heavy thud, and an accompanying sigh.
J'onn let out a disapproving sound. "I'd like to remind each and every team leader present that this matter is very important, and if anyone doesn't feel up to the task, they can make their exit now before we begin the briefing."
Although J'onn appeared to be speaking to everyone in the room, Lena felt like the only one on the receiving end of his ire. In an instant, she straightened in her chair and directed her attention to the screen.
J'onn calmly walked across the room to close the door, which clicked into place quietly before he turned to address the team leaders once more. "Last night, Ms. Luthor's team encountered and dispatched three Shtrigas. We know a lot about their physiognomy, although very little is clear when it comes to—"
As her mentor launched into a lecture he had likely prepared the night before, Lena's mind drifted to the fanged blonde. Despite her appalling wardrobe, all the evidence Lena had gathered thus far pointed to a benevolent vampyr.
She had first refused to fight Lena, then saved Sam from being bulldozed by a Shtriga in a split-second decision, and she had also prevented yours truly from having her head bitten off. Lena supposed she couldn't be the first of her kind in history; there had been a few recorded throughout the centuries. Still, Slayres were always cautioned against allying with vampyrs, as unknown motives could turn any trained fighter into a tempting snack.
"A member of Lena's team was attacked by one such beast."
J'onn's authoritative voice reminded Lena of her deception and the annoyance that seemed to follow her around in the form of Kara Danvers—like a way too sticky blob of gum stuck underneath her boot.
The Slayre had been quite vague in her report of the incident, feeling her guilt deepen as the lies she told continued to pile up on top of each other. And for what? A vampyr who could easily rip out her throat without a second thought? She pushed the disturbing thought from her mind as the chief of police, Maggie Sawyer, entered the room. Lena was no stranger to the woman, as they had previously collaborated with NC's police force.
The woman had long, dark, smooth hair that fell in gentle waves around her shoulders. She always exclusively wore a relaxed smile that could put anyone at ease, though Lena knew of the rugged woman who lurked beneath the surface. She'd thrown her usual leather jacket over a simple shirt, paired with dark jeans and her standard issue weapon holstered at her hip.
J'onn gestured toward Maggie, who stood confidently beside him. "Everyone, this is Chief Sawyer," he began, his voice steady. "She's here to discuss strategies that will ensure the safety of our citizens, the NC police force, and our Vampyr Hunters." He then nodded toward the officer, encouraging her to take the lead.
She took a breath, her eyes scanning the faces gathered before her. "We'll be pairing officers with Slayres to double up our patrols until we locate and eliminate the source of the Shtriga appearances. And that starts tonight, ladies and gents."
As a result of the meeting, Lena was assigned to work with Officer James Olsen and a rookie for the foreseeable future. She had also requested that Sam join them, which had been approved for the time being. Everyone was then instructed to be on the lookout for any malevolent witch or druid, living or otherwise, performing anything that resembled a ritual.
Lena hoped she wasn't going to run into college kids playing with a Ouija board.
That night's patrol was eerily uneventful, which made Lena feel even more on edge and restless. The most exhilarating part of her night was shutting down her police force partner, who had sent subtle flirtatious glances her way most of the evening.
"So, Lena, how long have you been doing this?" Jimmy Olsen was tall and objectively very handsome. His brilliant smile was likely a big hit with the ladies, but Lena excluded herself from that category, as she hadn't swung in that particular way in years. Actually, she hadn't swung at all for many moons.
Lena, slightly irked, thought they weren't nearly friendly enough for him to use her name so informally. "Long enough to know that casual conversations during patrols can often lead to casual deaths." It was a harsh thing to say, to be sure, but she wanted to make a point. Judging by how he didn't speak for the rest of the night, except to report to HQ, Lena guessed it had been received loud and clear.
Sam had noticed the interaction, treacherous girl, and felt the need to inform Lena that he was a hottie. To that, Lena reminded her best friend that she thought everyone was a so-called "hottie", so it really meant nothing at all to her. That had very quickly ended the discussion.
The sun began to rise slowly, casting a bright orange glow on the horizon. It signaled the start of a new day, and the end of Lena's shift. She and Sam engaged in their parting ritual: a firm hug followed by Sam poking Lena until she squirmed away, chuckling.
As soon as she crossed the threshold of the Luthor mansion, Lilian had called Lena to the dining room table with the promise of a lavish breakfast. The aroma was far more enticing than her desire to crawl under the covers for a good night's sleep. Plus, there was the prospect of ribbing her brother, which she couldn't resist.
Once they had all settled into their usual seats around the overly large table, Lena noticed him laughing atsomethingon his phone while she cut into a stack of golden, syrup-covered pancakes. Her lips curled into a smirk as she prepared for her playful attack. "What has you smiling like that, brother?"
Lena noticed his lips purse in a way she recognized as annoyance. Casually, he placed his phone face down on the table and feigned innocence with pinpoint accuracy. "Ah, just a funny video." His eyes never met hers.
"Well, share with the class," Lena pressed on, her smile growing at the sight of his clenched jaw. He soon began to cut into his towering stack of pancakes with more force than necessary.
"I won't risk it," he shoved a mouthful of food in, his words muffled and slightly garbled as he spoke. "We never know when you might have another incontinence episode."
Lena's smile faded just as quickly as his had appeared. A fork was flung at his head, which he easily caught without looking up from his plate. "Well, in any case," she paused to take a calming breath. She smoothed the white napkin spread across her lap, determined not to give her brother the satisfaction of seeing her upset about that particularly embarrassing event. "We wouldn't want to traumatize Mother with the lovey-dovey messages Eve sends you."
"Lena," Lilian said, failing to suppress her own smile. She hadn't paid much attention to their back and forth, as this was quite common behaviour for her children.
"What?" Lena played the part of the innocent victim a bit too accurately, an inherited Luthor trait. Emerald eyes narrowed at her brother whilst she sipped her drink.
"You're correct, I'd rather not be subjected to that, dear."
Both women erupted in laughter, and Lex couldn't help but crack a small smile.
"How distasteful," Lex groaned in mock annoyance. "Teaming up against the only man in the house is quite the underhanded tactic."
Lena feared his sudden silence more than being locked in a room with a dozen Shtrigas. She watched him chew leisurely, almost conspiratorially. When he finally turned his attention back to her, it was with a devious smile. "What's your dust count like these days?"
Lena had no earthly clue, to be honest. "Surely, it's much higher than yours."
Neither did her brother, Lena surmised. "Doubtful."
Lilian set her knife and fork down with purpose, the sound grabbing both of their attention. "You're both too old for such nonsense."
Lena wanted to ask her why that was her tipping point and not the violent fork-throwing, but she refrained from doing so.
Lex lifted his glass into the air, as if making a toast. "One is never too old for a good old-fashioned sibling rivalry."
Lena mirrored him, raising her own glass in agreement. The siblings then clinked their glasses together, and the rest of their breakfast was spent talking about that night's hunt. The conversation was only paused briefly when Lena stole bacon off Lex's plate, prompting Lilian to follow suit.
Sleep had come quickly that morning with the promise of the next day off. She had already meticulously planned to do exactly nothing at all. Upon waking the next evening around 6pm, Lena went through her usual routine of fist-bumping an equally bleary-eyed Lex as she padded down the long hallway on her way to take a shower.
Afterward, she would pull her damp hair into a high ponytail and slip into comfy clothes to relax and finally catch up on a book she had been wanting to finish. With each page turned, the sun gradually sank toward the horizon, marking the shift from day to night.
Just like a panther stretching its claws after a long nap in the sun, Lena outstretched both arms in front of herself before she reached for her phone. The team leader group chat had over fifty new messages, all ranging from complaints about the officer they had been paired with the night before to the occasional flirty comment. Lena quickly skimmed through it while sipping her now cold coffee. With a swift motion of her thumb, she opened her text chat with Sam and wrote:I'm starved.
A sound at her balcony window made her head snap up, her eyes scanning the area. The prickle at the back of her neck left no mystery as to who it could be. She slid open the glass door that led to her balcony and pushed her hands into the grinning idiot's chest.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Lena growled, still having half a mind to close the sliding door behind her to prevent the mansion's other occupants from overhearing her shouting. She thought the vampyr was quite brave to venture out this early in the night, given that she was deathly allergic to the sun.
Kara dodged the question, and Lena hated that she recognized it as a habit of hers. "That shade of red looks incredible on you."
The blue eyes that looked her over made Lena feel far more self-conscious than annoyed at that moment. Folding her arms over her chest, her eyes followed Kara's movements as she leaned back against the thick wrought iron guardrail of the balcony. The smile that played on her lips was soft and calm.
Tonight, Kara's choice of Hawaiian shirt featured a pineapple print that made Lena want to vomit. She decided the offending shirt was the reason her next words were particularly sharp. "Being a murderous undead monster wasn't enough for you, so you decided to venture into a little stalking and B ?"
"Nah, I just explored the vast expanse called Google," Kara answered with a light chuckle. She didn't seem all that offended, which Lena found all the more perplexing. "And for the record, I drink from blood bags." She swept her golden hair away from her face, but it tumbled back around her shoulders just a moment later. Lena recalled how that same hand had felt when it brushed against her hip a few nights before. Memory was a treacherous thing.
Lena's expression was incredulous enough that Kara felt the need to immediately defend her statement. "I'm totally serious. Come over, and I'll make you this great Italian dish I learned—"
Lena cut her off before she had to hear any more of the vampyr's buffoonery. "Pass."
"Again, still not the worst way I've been rejected," Kara punctuated her self-deprecating jest with a low, throaty chuckle that made Lena count backwards from one hundred, lest she found the sound attractive.
Still, the word endearing assaulted Lena's mind just as her patience started to wear thin. "Why are you here?" She repeated, wondering if she'd get an actual answer this time.
After a moment of silence, Lena couldn't help but feel overly scrutinized under the weight of Kara's gaze. She leaned forward against the railing with an air of quiet contemplation and recoiled at the thought that their current meeting could ever be considered a romantic endeavor—especially with the nearly set sun behind them, glowing bright orange as it merged with the blue hue of the night sky.
"I want to help. Icanhelp with the Shtriga situation…and whatever else." Lena watched as Kara fiddled with her fingers much like a shy teenager would. Was it genuine bashfulness suddenly appearing on the taller woman's features, or just another performative ruse? Maybe Lena could tell. Maybe she also hated the idea that she could.
"Why?" The Slayre was desperate to know.
"Because I want to. Isn't that enough?" Kara almost sounded a little annoyed. Good, Lena thought; the cracks in the facade were starting to show.
After a short blissful moment of silence, Lena let out a frustrated sigh, rolling her eyes as she took a step back from the guardrail. "You're the most frustrating non-person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."
"And you're the most stubborn," Kara countered, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.
Lena was somewhat taken aback by the challenge, but recovered as she headed toward the balcony's door. "We don't need your help. Good evening." As soon as she closed the door behind her, a shaky breath escaped her lips. Silence. She could finally try to stifle her body's response, despite her protests, to the fresh scent of Kara's shampoo.
As if the universe were taunting Lena, a muffled voice came through the other side of the glass door. "Wait! Lena! Could I get your number so we—"
With a growl, Lena closed the curtains, the rings screeching as they were roughly dragged over the metal pole. It didn't mute the blonde's words, though, Lena simply chose to tune her out. She downed the rest of her coffee, hoping it would alleviate her headache.
She shot a quick glance at her phone, a text from Sam was displayed on the notification screen:Like, food? Or are you suggesting something kinky?
I'm blocking you.
Lena was no stranger to loss, but the news of Leslie's death struck her like a freight truck. The Association treated it just like any other murder case, as if they hadn't shared a childhood and fought side by side for years. Semantics was never the Slayre's forte. What she needed was a target and a sharp stake for whatever had bested Leslie.
Worst yet, the only known circumstance of her death had been that she'd gotten separated from her team during the nightly patrol. Problem was, everyone had given widely different accounts of how and why it had occurred. They hadn't even been able to decide on what had attacked her—not the coroner, nor the Association's experts in the field.
The walls felt like they were closing in on Lena, weighed down by unanswered questions and the whirlwind of emotions from the past few days. She excused herself from the meeting room and stepped outside, deciding that pacing in the parking lot between the cars was a far more productive use of her time. Besides, she really couldn't stand the way Sam was looking at her like she was going to break at any moment.
What she needed was peace, and the parking lot provided just that. That is, until Kara appeared with a casual "hey" from the car she was perched on, as if she hadn't just scared the living daylights out of Lena.
She eyed Kara with a scowl firmly etched on her face as the taller woman slid off the car and approached her, her hands stuffed in her jeans pockets. Tonight, the vampyr had decided to grace Lena with her presence dressed in a flamingo print shirt tucked into dark jeans. She wasn't sure what was more criminal: the Pepto-Bismol pink color of the habillement or the tuck itself.
Lena had pushed at the blonde's taut shoulder once she'd gotten close enough, making her displeasure known at being scared out of her wits. Kara had predictably laughed, and Lena's stomach just as predictably had done somersaults at the sound.
"You must be really suicidal to want to hang around a building filled to the brim with your mortal enemies." Honestly, Lena was starting to think the vampyr had a serious death wish. Noticing that the aforementioned fiend was about to say something daft that would no doubt worsen her headache, Lena raised her hand to shush her. "Let me guess, you're here to make me believe you want to help us?"
Lena already wanted to smack the grin off Kara's face when the blonde placed her hand over what used to be a beating heart. "Aww, you really get me."
"Kara," Lena warned sharply.
"Witches of Anaga."
Lena blinked. "What did you just call me?"
"I'm like ninety percent sure they're the ones behind the Shtrigas." Lena briefly wondered what mathematical equation led Kara to that particular conclusion.
"We verify your info, and then what? Do we make you an honorary vampyr Slayre? Do you prefer your blood in bags or are cups preferable? I'll be sure to inform the caterer for the welcoming party." The onslaught of words carried a particular bite, reflecting Lena's growing exasperation.
For the second time since meeting the all too jovial vampyr, Lena was surprised at the eyeroll that came from deep blue eyes. "I'm not asking you to involve everyone, Lena. I just want us to work together."
The Slayre began to pace again to keep her mind from fixating on the word "us." She sensed Kara's eyes on her as she nervously moved back and forth. She really needed the vampyr to never speak her name again, for fear she would grow accustomed to how it sounded. "You're asking me to lie to everyone I know."
Her friends. Her family. Her peers. Heck, even poor Reginald Luthor had no doubt been rolling in his grave at that moment.
"For their own good." The reasoning Kara had offered so easily wasn't completely batshit crazy, though Lena still wrestled with the morality of aligning herself with the enemy. The jury was still out.
"And pray tell, has that ever worked out for you?"
"Once or twice."
Lena regarded the taller woman with a piercing glare; however, as usual, it had no effect on the smile she wore with irksome confidence.
"I'll only consider it after we verify your intel." Lena rubbed her forehead with one hand. "Complicated" didn't even begin to describe the situation she had willingly thrown herself into.
"Now would be a good time to give me your number."
When she looked up, she was met with a smiling Kara, who presented Lena with her phone. It was open to the 'add contact' menu. The screen name the vampyr had chosen for her was 'Grouchy,' followed by a dagger emoji.
Lena had to stop herself from hurling the offending object like a strong-armed quarterback. Instead, she snatched the phone away from the grinning blonde. "Fine." She changed her name before entering her digits, though.
She pressed the phone into the woman's chest with more force than necessary, prompting a small "oof" from the fanged fiend. "Don't you ever call me, or send me stupid fucking texts that have nothing to do with oursituation." The so-called "situation," in this case, involved hunting down and subsequently disposing of this new enemy.
Lena immediately regretted her actions when Kara's cold hand enveloped hers to take back the phone. A glance at the taller blonde made it clear that she had done it intentionally. Her skin was silky smooth and surprisingly pleasant, contrary to Lena's expectations. She had hoped it would be dry and clammy, as she had always imagined.
Lena suddenly pulled away after they lingered in that position a moment too long. She felt an overwhelming urge to bolt out of her own skin.
"Yes, ma'am!" Kara gave Lena a sharp salute, prompting Lena to shake her head at the moronic gesture. Kara's expression turned serious then, such a swift change in emotion that Lena almost caught herself asking what was wrong. "Also, I just wanted to say—I'm really, really sorry about what happened to your friend."
Lena nodded. "Thanks," her voice broke into a whisper as she swallowed thickly. She didn't find it all that irritating that Kara had watched her until she was safely inside HQ. However, she couldn't dwell on that annoying fact for long, as chaos erupted the moment she crossed the threshold. Leslie, or rather, her body, had transformed into a Shtriga, tearing through five floors and leaving a trail of blood and rubble in its wake.
J'onn was the one to put it down.
The resulting pain was similar to the agonizing reopening of a fresh wound. Lena struggled to help J'onn understand that no one had thought to put the body in a holding cell, considering their judgment was clouded by recent grief. Yet, he continued to blame the entire dreadful event solely on himself.
If Kara's theory was correct, then those behind the Trojan Horse attack had just declared war on the Association. It was either a complete coincidence or a plan crafted by brilliant minds. But Lena didn't believe in such things; she was far more inclined to accept the more plausible explanation of the coven's involvement.
She hadn't messaged Kara to inform her of what had happened, deciding that research on the witches was better conducted with a clear and focused mind rather than a turbulent one. J'onn had ordered that everyone take a few days to rest after the incident—not only for the injured and the repairs needed at HQ, but also for the mental well-being of everyone involved. Police Chief Sawyer would agree to dispatch officers to cover the shifts.
The first day after the incident, Sam slept over. Neither of them wanted to say goodbye, fearing it might be their last. The second day was spent training with Lex and Sam. The third was marked by Lena's struggle to ignore her emotions after working out her frustrations the day before.
She stood on her balcony during what would have been the middle of her shift, allowing the cool night air to clear her thoughts, if only for a moment. It was easy to start thinking about everyone she could lose, how much it would hurt, and if she'd be able to cope. The weight of those thoughts could very quickly become overwhelming if left unchecked.
Kara, who seemingly coordinated all of her appearances with the setting sun, had pulled Lena out of those increasingly dark thoughts. She mirrored the Slayre's position against the guardrail next to her. No words were exchanged for a long time, and they hadn't really needed to. Lena dreaded the thought that it was because she found the other woman's presence comforting, as if they shared some sort of amiable silence. Yet every fiber of her being desperately screamed at the Slayre to fight against it.
She never asked Lena how she was doing; the answer to that question was all too obvious. Instead, the vampyr launched into countless stories about General Zod, her feline companion. Lena was perfectly content listening to the way the blonde animatedly regaled her with tales of the animal. If Lena were a romantic, which she wasn't, she might think Kara knew exactly what she needed at that moment: a distraction.
As Lena was shown pictures of the cat's glorious fluffy white and gray coat, she thought about the absurdity of a vampyr being a cat owner. It seemed unbelievable, but for a Hawaiian shirt-obsessed dork, it sort of made logical sense.
"General Zod…from Superman?" Lena stood with her back pressed against the railing as she fixed her gaze on the taller woman, raising a brow alongside her inquiry.
Kara was leaning forward on the railing, head resting in one hand. "The villains are always the most interesting characters."
Lena lets out a scoff, eyes narrowed at the offending smile the blonde offered. "Of course you would say that."
"You don't seem like the type to like the goody two-shoes heroes." Kara raised an eyebrow, her gaze teasing as she awaited Lena's response.
"And how would you know? I happen to be very fond of heroic sacrifices." Lena leaned slightly closer, her expression challenging, as if daring Kara to argue with her.
It wasn't very effective, and in retrospect, Lena should have known better. "I guess I can see it," was Kara's reply.
Lena shifted back into her previous position, deliberately moving further away from Kara. "Well, anyways, you have truly horrible taste."
The Slayre didn't know exactly when their conversations stopped being a constant back-and-forth battle or why she had stopped arguing and even insulting the vampyr with every word. Maybe it was during the halfway point of Kara's story about how Zod learned where his owner kept all the treats. Or maybe it happened long before that.
Kara's eyes shifted to regard nothing at all over her shoulder. Lena recognized this as the vampyr's hearing picking up a disturbance in the distance. "Someone's coming." Lena stiffened; the gentle hand the blonde placed on her shoulder didn't help her relax in the slightest. "Take care, Lena."
She'd been so affected by how soft Kara's parting words were that when Lex found her, he asked if the aliens had finally taken control of the chip they had implanted in her brain. If there was one thing Lena hated more than being caught off guard, it was her brother's appalling sense of humor.
J'onn's face grew serious, if a little anxious, when Lena mentioned the witches of Anaga. Four dusty books, a whiteboard filled with bullet points neatly written by Lex and Eve, a slightly vulgar drawing of a witch artfully rendered by Sam, and countless liters of coffee later, the team leaders were finally ready to give their verdict on what they believed was Lena's theory.
Sam had given her a strange look at the sudden suggestion, as if Lena had mentioned the ending of a novel she knew she had never read. It was an odd feeling, and it did nothing to ease her sense of guilt.
"If this theory holds, then our enemy is Alura Zor-El. She's amongst one of the most prolific and powerful witches in history." J'onn had found a single news clipping from the early 1900s about the aforementioned witch, and it had been tapped to their whiteboard.
"Cool, so we have an Omega-level baddie in our backyard," Sam said unhelpfully as she sipped her sixth coffee. It was a true marvel she hadn't had the jitters by then.
J'onn nodded in agreement. Lena was proud of how proficient he'd become at understanding the youth's lingo, as he put it himself. "Which begs the question: why? Why here and why now?"
"Bad hair day?" Lena said. It had been more of an automatic response than anything, as she hadn't looked up from the book on covens she'd been flipping through. Which meant, she also missed the scowl J'onn shot her way.
"I think once we uncover the motive, we'll be able to locate her," J'onn explained as he put his glasses back on and stood up, casting a brief glance at his watch. "You're all dismissed to your patrols. Continue canvassing the city until we locate her. And remember, it is strictly prohibited to separate from your unit. Is that understood?"
The entire room responded with a hearty, "Yes, sir!"
Patrol that night started off strong with a distress call from Lucy in a barely understandable transmission. They had been dispatched to a disturbance at a local fair, which was currently closed for the off-season—a perfect hiding place for all sorts of uglies to evade civilization. Communications had been cut off, and protocol stipulated that the closest team would assist. Sam demanded the coordinates from HQ, and in just a few short minutes, Lena's team was on their way.
The black Suburban's tires skidded to a halt at the exact coordinates they'd gotten, sending a spray of gravel flying in every direction. Sam was far from a gentle driver, and for that reason, Lena always would tightly grasp the handle above the passenger side window. She felt genuine relief when her boots touched the ground, her eyes scanning the fair that had no doubt been eerily empty and quiet before the chaos unfolded. The air was thick with a cacophony of shouts, growls, and other unsettling sounds she was now accustomed to.
A vampyr came running at them, fiery red hair and a sense of style like he was perpetually stuck in 1982. He found himself being thrown on the ground by Lena's outreached arm as she clotheslined the fiend across the neck, followed by a quick grab to secure his arm and halt any attempt to escape. She twisted in until she heard bones protest against the pressure and eventually pop. Sam ended the suffering he vocalized, quite loudly, with a perfectly aimed stake.
"Jesus, it's crawling with the bastards." Lena observed, dusting off the remnants of the recently departed creature from her jeans.
"I'll take Olsen and the rookie to clean-up the uglies," Sam sidestepped a charging vampyr, and drove her knee into their stomach. The impact would have knocked the wind out of them if they had any breath left to speak of. James had helped her dispose of the creature for good.
"I'll find Lucy." Lena took Sam's casual two-finger salute as acquiescence, who was already engaged in an unchoreographed tango with yet another vampyr.
She spotted Lucy fighting a Shtriga on the thankfully motionless carousel. Lena almost froze when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw none other than Kara Davners engaged in a serious bout with two Shtrigas. She was eternally grateful it was far too dark out to make out the color of the particular Hawaiian shirt the blonde had chosen to wear tonight.
Kara hadn't appeared to be having much trouble; in fact, Lena had heard her laughing and casually bantering with the beasts she knew couldn't utter responses to the taunts. It was impressive, watching Kara fight. Like a blur, a whirlwind of motion that seemed to defy the laws of space. She vanished in one spot, only to reappear in another, seamlessly striking both of her opponents. One blink, she delivered a quick jab to thick ribs, the next, she materialized above them, striking an overly large head with her knee.
Superspeed my ass.
The blonde must have noticed her presence, as Lena heard her name being yelled over the chaos while she shouldered her way past rabid vampyrs, determined to make her way to Lucy's position.
"Hi, Lena!" Kara had narrowly missed having her entire face slashed open by one of the Shtriga's claws while she happily waved at her. The Slayre was absolutely mortified to be associated with someone so openly and jovially embarrassing.
"Focus you absolute moron!" Lena had yelled back while she vaulted over a stationary, uncanny rendition of a horse to reach her friend. She hadn't been worried about the vampyr; no, she simply didn't want anyone else getting injured if the blonde failed to incapacitate the beasts. At least, that's what she made herself believe.
The Shtriga Lucy had been fighting snarled before it lunged forward, forcing the smaller woman to roll underneath one of the horses. "Took you long enough, Luthor!" Lucy teased, jumping back to her feet with ease.
Lena ducked a clawed hand, which had attempted to swing at her head. She used one of the lowered horses to kick up and vault onto the Shtriga's back. "You definitely owe me for this, Lane!" Lena planted a stake right into its neck, but with her awkward position and unsteady footing, she couldn't quite follow through and pierce the thick skin there. She felt a large hand gather the material of her jacket at her back, then it flung her into the carousel's center pole.
She felt the air leave her lungs and a few ribs snap upon impact with the hard surface. Lena then hit the ground with a thud, a series of deep coughs escaping her lips. Each attempt to draw a breath felt like trying to inhale through a tight straw. She attempted to stand up, but as her efforts were futile, she could only watch as Lucy plunged a stake into the beast's lower back to sever its spinal column. The large Shtriga fell to its knees, legs rendered useless by the planned strike.
Lena then felt someone lift her up, throwing a steadying arm around her waist just as Lucy finished off the beast. It was Kara.
"Alright, let's get you out of here, trooper."
Lena gasped at the sudden movement and turned her head to spit out a mouthful of blood. Sure, her body was much more resilient and healed faster than a human's, but broken bones still hurt like hell.
Kara and Sam helped Lena into the back of the Suburban, a series of curses escaping the Slayre's lips despite their best efforts to be gentle. The ride was agonizing—not because of the pain, as the Slayre healing factor was already taking care of that, but because she had to listen to Lucy very eagerly flirt with Kara the entire time. To make matters worse, Lena had found herself squeezed between both of them.
She even caught Lucy saying that Kara's cat-print Hawaiian shirt was cute, for God's sake. The vampyr explained it was actually a picture of General Zod, her cat. Apparently, someone had the bright idea to let people like Kara create monstrous garments like this one on a website specifically designed for that purpose. Lena judged that to be equal to a criminal offense.
It was only when Lucy said "I think we're being followed," while rubbing the back of her neck, that Lena's eyes shot open in panic.
Fuck.
Kara was with them, inside the car, heading straight to HQ. Before Lena even had time to think up of a ridiculous reason why they needed to stop the vehicule, her salvation came in the form of her present injuries.
"J'onn, we're taking a beat up Luthor to the nearest medical center." Sam's conversation after that consisted of a series of "yeahs" and "yeps," topped off with a final, "Roger that." If it hadn't been for Lena's possible internal bleeding, they likely wouldn't have stopped at a local hospital. Lena took a long moment to thank her possibly pierced lung for keeping her dirty little secret a little longer.
When her eyes started to flutter closed on their own, her head slowly drifted to Kara's shoulder. She almost convinced herself it was the car's movement that made her shift into that position. When she woke up, being carried bridal style into the hospital by Kara, she laughed, then coughed up more blood.
"You're taking this hero thing a little too seriously." Lena recalled their earlier conversation.
"Maybe," Kara smiled, slow and sure. It made Lena feel at ease, somehow. "Or maybe I just wanted to be your hero."
"Shut your face, dumbass."
And, of course, Kara had simply laughed in response as if completely oblivious to what insults that a Luthor wouldn't find her company completely repulsive.
She passed out again.