Night's Omen

• Ronan
• Tyler
• Britton
• Laura
• Zane
• Cameron and Mike
• Gina
• Gunnar
• Dmitri
• Ro

 Dmitri Arun was a mystery to most everyone, and I'd only met him a few times until the urgent call that brought me to a musty hotel room in Prague. He had been scouted by Diamond before, but he wasn't inclined to accept the offer. In fact, he was so irritated that he wasn't off-grid enough that we completely lost track of him after that. Nicolette was a historian by trade but she'd learned a thing or two about the internet from one of the geeks at ISIS and now she was easily roaming into NSA territory. But apparently he'd kept my number, even after he'd gone deeper into hiding.

 "Hey, beautiful. Took you long enough," he grunted, opening the door. His hand was shaking as it clasped the handle, and Freyja could see that he was leaning against it for support. She thought for a moment about just shoving past him and going in, but given that he'd been a ghost for the last two years, she didn't want to ruin the very delicate relationship she was currently working with.

 "Well, you didn't want anyone to know I was coming, so I couldn't just fly out on the company's dime without coming up with a good reason," she said, her voice betraying her irritation at sitting on a plane for fourteenish hours without any sleep. "So listen, I'm really tired, so if you want to skip the formalities, we can get down to busine - DMITRI!"

 Dmitri played a lot of his hunting career off, but I could tell from the scars that never healed on his body that his line of work was significantly deeper than he made it out to be. He was like another hunter I knew, Isabelle Sweet; they tapped into their magic just enough to get them through. I didn't know how much alike until that night.

 Thank god I'm not human, Freyja thought to herself for the hundredth time at least. If Dmitri had collapsed and she'd lacked the strength of a Smoke, or the training that she received from her brother and "extended" Diamond family, she might have had to call in for backup. As it stood, it was pretty obvious that Dmitri had worked very hard to go unnoticed, and calling Gunnar or even Eithne would put him right back in the spotlight.

 She worked quickly, placing him into a 'magical coma', for lack of a better term. She needed him in a suspense so she could go over his injuries, and having him unconscious wouldn't do. A rough overview of his injuries, of which there were many, lead her to believe that had she arrived any later, he might have slipped away. The thought scared her for two reasons - that she could have been delayed for any number of reasons and arrived to find him dead, and that he trusted her enough to get there in time. A chill went down her spine as she began mending the most detrimental of his injuries. They'd have to have a talk when he awoke.

 He was out for a few days. I needed him to use as little of his resources as possible to heal. Aruns are a tricky breed of Witch to try and mend; their own magic can become problematic, like a vampire's can. In the case of Isabelle, Gunnar forbade me to do her mending for a great while, and even now I don't tend to her much. In truth, it taxed me more than I cared to admit.

 "Hey, beautiful."

 The words, coarse from a dry throat, startled Freyja from a nap she didn't know she'd been taking. She had fallen asleep seated on the narrow bed that was in the nook of the dark studio-style room, where she had been keeping vigilant (she thought) watch over the Arun. She blinked her burning eyes rapidly, fatigue creeping into every fiber of her being as she sat forward a little. It was a literal nook, and she'd been sitting with her back pressed against a wall, legs tucked beneath her - both of which were asleep at the moment.

 "Ah shit," she hissed. She immediately swung her legs off the bed; the felt heavy and clunky as they slapped the ground. She rubbed her eyes and extended her arms out, trying to stretch some of the ache out of her body. "How are you feeling?" she asked, all of her attention and concern immediately on her patient.

 "Thirsty, but good. Feel like I slept a year, truth be told." Dmitri paused. "You work your voodoo magic a little too well on me, Smoke?" he asked, squinting at her. He sat up, and though he felt sore and stiff, he certainly could tell a difference.
 
 "If by 'a little too well' you mean put your body back to fully functioning as much as possible, then yes," she said, unable to hide her smile at how pleased she was he still retained a sense of humour. "Just because you're a Witch doesn't mean you're invincible," she reminded him. She hesitated, then reached out for his hand and placed hers atop it. "And just because you're an Arun doesn't mean you're immortal, Dmitri," she added softly.

 She felt his hand stiffen and slide out from beneath hers, and she closed her eyes. Of course she overstepped and stuck her foot in her mouth. Why was it that when Gunnar said things like that, people didn't react as negatively as they did when she said them?

 "I can take care of myself, Freyja," he said, a frown on his handsome features suddenly making him seem older and more stern than she was used to. "Sometimes my line of work is a little rough. You know that. I don't have a fancy fortress to go back to where people can mend me on a daily basis. I use what I have when I have it." He exhaled through his nose when he watched her eyes fall to the floor, no doubt concentrating on the static in her legs over his face. He didn't blame her.

 "Freyja," he started. He stopped, then sat up more fully in the bed, reaching out to take her by the shoulders. "Freyja, listen. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm grateful you came. I'm lucky you came. I burned just about every bridge I have, especially with Diamond." She tried to interrupt him and tell him that she wasn't technically a Diamond, but he shook his head. "I know, I know. But you know what I mean. I'm sorry I snapped at you. This is why I don't have any friends," he added. She was silent for a while longer, and he smiled. "Come on, my goddess of love and beauty..." he prodded, trying to make her laugh.

 She rolled her eyes, hating that he already knew she would forgive him. Her flaw was too kind a heart; it was why her brother guarded her so - but Freyja was stronger than many of them realized. They just didn't often see it because they were too busy protecting her. "Stop with the goddess stuff," she warned, though he'd made her laugh all the same. She tried to stifle a yawn and failed, shaking her head to fight the haze of sleep deprivation. "Sorry, sorry. Let's get you up and fed, then I'll be on my way."

 "Sure, but can you tell me when the last time you slept was?" Dmitri asked, though he obliged to move off the bed. He thought about taking the sheet with him, since his boxer-briefs probably weren't exactly appropriate, but then he remembered that he had no shame - that and the fact that Freyja had probably seen worse from worse sources. He walked the few feet to the tall mirror on the closet door, turning to look at himself. "Scars are still there," he muttered. "My knee feels great though."

 Freyja diverted her eyes briefly when the Arun stood up. It was always different when someone was dying. "Oh, uh - I dunno, before I flew over? I mean I'm sure I dozed here and there while you were out, but it was pretty important that I be awake for the first two or three days to ensure that the process was going along well. So... four days and change?" she guessed, shrugging. She stood up slowly and moved behind him; it would have been suggestive except for the subject matter.

 "I left them because I don't remove them without consent," she explained. "Our Arun, Isabelle. She was in Midnight for a hot minute. She told Gunnar to leave every scar." She got quiet for a second, and Dmitri felt himself tense as he heard her take a breath before she spoke again. "There is a very particular scar she has, from a very particular vampire. It looks a lot like this one," she said softly. To his surprise, she ran two fingers across the long scar on his back, made by a weapon that had become trademark of Timozel, a vampire second to Rajz in Midnight EU. "It burns around the edges because of the ice. Nothing else looks quite like it." Her voice wavered slightly.

 "Why did you call me?" she asked suddenly.

 Dmitri could feel the heat from her body due to her closeness, and he turned around to look down at her - literally, he had her by at least seven inches. He was surprised at how close she'd gotten, actually - Freyja was mostly timid from what he knew. But he'd only really seen her in the confines of Diamond, so he couldn't really say how she was, could he? He placed a hand on her shoulder.

 "Because I knew you wouldn't let me die," he responded simply. "Now go get into bed and get some rest," he commanded, gently guiding her around and towards the small bed. He could see that she had questions, and he sighed. "When you wake up, I'll explain," he said. He said it sincerely, and Freyja complied with him only because he was clearly done with her help in the healing department and because she was fairly certain she could taste colours and hear light at the moment.

 When I had woken up it was dark, almost pitch - the ambiance from a small night-light in the room was enough, though. I sat up, but I was clearly still sleep-fatigued, because when I saw Dmitri leaving, I tried to ask him where he was going, but only ended up coughing. He came from the door and to the bed. I remember he told me to lay back down, and I did. He spoke to me, but the only thing I remember is him saying 'You won't even remember any of this when you wake up.' I like to think that he told me everything; his darkest secrets, his deepest fears. But I know that he probably only told me he had to leave, and attached a lie as to why on the end of it. I hope it was a pleasant lie.
 

  The thing about a Paladin that everybody likes to forget is that they make a lot of enemies along the way. Nobody got to be as good as Ronan O'Shea without leaving a gouge a mile wide on someone else's bad side. Murphy had made enemies, too, but Fae become more powerful in every following generation, so his enemies had children, and those became stacked on top of the groups that Ronan had already pissed off with his... way. And even though the Midnight US siege was over and done, Midnight EU had no such treaty, and had no qualms about attacking even Diamond members the moment they set foot on European soil.

 We hadn't been in Moscow thirty minutes when Ronan got a call that our names had already crossed over enemy wavelengths.

 "Ronan, come on," Freyja protested. She stood in the middle of a gorgeous penthouse-style hotel room, frantically following Ronan as he paced on the phone, making arrangements to leave. She went so far as to stand directly in his way, but he dodged her, continuing to roam around the suite like a Roomba, checking the windows and doors repeatedly.

 "No, it's not 'fine', dad. I have Freyja with me. I'm going to take her to hunters and then they're gonna get her back stateside. I don't care if Onyx is already on it, I'm not Onyx, so it isn't good enough." Freyja was actually starting to piss him off a little as she kept grabbing for the phone, and he felt himself close to snapping at her if she didn't knock it the fuck off. He wasn't generally one to panic, and normally he wouldn't have cancelled their trip for a spot of trouble, but it had all been confirmed that Rajz himself had put a dollar sign on his head, and he knew that Rajz had no issues with collateral damage.

 "It's out of the question, Freyja," he said, putting his hand up as she began to argue the minute he hung up the phone. He was honestly trying not to snap at her, but her training sessions with Sweet had her feeling a little over-confident in his opinion, and he didn't want to see her hurt because she thought she could hold her own against these guys. "Get your stuff packed, a car will be here to get you within the hour."

 "Ronan, would you stop and LISTEN to me?" she begged. She got in his way again, blocking him from going to the bedroom to grab her suitcase since it was clear she wasn't willing to, and put her arms out on either side of her against the doorframe. "I'll be okay. I don't want to go home, why do you always send me away every time there might be the possibility of trouble? I'm not human, remember? I'm a Witch," she reminded him.

 Ronan listened to her, and he heard her, he really did. It made his heart ache in his chest to think that she felt like he was spiriting her away without a second thought. "A Smoke," he clarified gently. "Freyja, these guys, they don't play like the guys do in the states. You've been training with Isabelle, I know, but you also need to think a moment about where she came from. You taking some defensive fighting techniques from her isn't the same as you training your whole life like the rest of us did."

 He watched her face fall as she realized that he wasn't going to budge on the issue. He so rarely did, but every once in a while she could talk some sense into him before his panic set in. She sighed, and her posture sank as she released her hold on the doorframe. "I'll just go pack," she muttered. "I don't even know why you bother bringing me anywhere."

 "Hey," he said softly, reaching for her hand. He turned her around and drew her in close, holding her hand up to his lips and giving it a light kiss. "I promise, Freyja. We will come back and have our anniversary here. It just won't be on the actual date. I can live with that if it means getting you home safely. Your brother would kill me if anything happened to you," he added.

 "I hate it when you do that, because you know that I love you enough to let you convince me of anything when you do that," she whined. "Fine, Ronan. Fine, fine."

 It makes my chest hurt even now to think about how in love with him I was. Especially since everything that happened after left me messed up for a long time. Maybe forever. But I did what he said, and when the people from Onyx came to get me to take me back to the airport, he walked me down to the street and gave me a kiss before I got into the SUV. I wish I had stayed with him. I wish I had fought harder. If I had thrown an actual temper tantrum, maybe things... would have been different.

 In the SUV, Freyja looked down at her phone for the first few minutes of the drive, then glanced up when someone called her name. One of the hunters in the front was talking to her, and she must have totally missed it. "What?" she said, blinking rapidly and feeling stupid.
 
 "I said, what made you want to come to Moscow?" she asked. The girl was familiar, but Freyja couldn't place exactly where.

 "Oh!" Freyja exclaimed. "Well, one of our Fae liaisons is from here, and she told us that it was really beautiful this time of year. We were having trouble deciding where to go for our anniversary, and it just kind of seemed right."

 The hunter nodded. "Anya," she said, extending her hand. "Maximoff."

 Freyja shook her hand. "Oh, a vampire?" she asked, in spite of her usual politeness. She was simply surprised - Anya felt almost human until she'd touched Freyja. "You're so young," she blurted out. She covered her mouth immediately. Age wasn't exactly a polite topic - not for women, but for vampires. "I'm so sorry. That was rude of me."

 Anya laughed, glancing up at the road. They were on the highway now, at least. She looked back at Freyja, then climbed over the console into the back seat and took up position on her left, behind the driver. "There, now I'm not craning my neck. And no, it's fine, I am young, especially in terms of my sire." She grinned. "But aren't we all."

 "Oh, who is your sire? Is he a hunter also?" Freyja asked. She felt the vehicle slowing down a little, and glanced up at what looked like construction ahead. Great. If I miss my flight, Ronan will be pissed.

 "Sort of," Anya replied. The SUV came to a stop. "His name is Raphael. I believe you know him as the vampire who controls fear," she said smoothly.

 Freyja's look of surprise was priceless - Anya would have gotten a photo if she could have. The wheels worked quickly in her head as she put all of the pieces together. She heard the doors of the SUV open and felt a firm hand around her arm, someone instructing her to get of the vehicle. Anya - sired by Raphael, former Mayhem, dropped off the map about three years prior. An older vampire who had mastered the art of diluting her aura down to next-to-nothing. As a Witch, she should have sensed more, but she was a Smoke, not a Vida or an Arun, and didn't have the training or ability to push further into someone's aura like that.

 "Tell Timozel the package will be en route shortly," the man said over Freyja's head. That was the last thing she remembered before she was knocked out; that and Anya blowing a kiss to her.

 The holding area they kept me in was a warehouse. I guess somewhere along the way, Ronan had made a personal enemy of Timozel, who was Rajz's right hand. I knew him as the crazy ice-wielding dread-locked vampire that called Verity his sister. The Mistress of Midnight. It all became clear that everything had been to split Ronan and I apart so they had the opportunity to take me. They had never been after him, only me. Only me. And he wasn't there to protect me. So I was going to have to protect myself.

 Freyja came to at the sensation of ice cold water being thrown at her. She immediately tried to run, only to realize that her feet dangled below her - She was several feet off the ground; the man who had thrown the water at her was eye-level to her waist. Either way, her feet touched nothing, and she struggled to stop winding back and forth as the chain moved. The sensation felt like it was ripping her arms apart.

 "Is it true what they say about a Smoke Witch?" the man who was standing further away asked. "That you wouldn't kill a human?"

 That was when she realized that the man who had taken her from the SUV, and the two men in the room with her, were all human. Timozel was playing on the fact that Freyja would never hurt a human to his advantage, and sadly, to her great disadvantage. She could hear Ronan reminding her of her lineage in the hotel room, like he had every other time she tried to use the fact that she was a Witch to mean that she could take care of herself, and she felt anger, shame, and fear cloud her head.

 "Why don't you let me down and we can find out?" she challenged, setting her jaw.

 "Sure," the man said, to her surprise. The guy by the wall flipped a switch and the chain rapidly gained slack, slamming Freyja down on the ground with a thud. She was so shocked that it took her a second to regain her wits. That and it felt so good to have her shoulders not extended above her. The man closest to her stood over her; towered, actually. He wasn't a small guy, she was realizing this now that she was on her ass at his feet. She scooted back from him as quickly as she could, but he stayed where he was.

 "I'll tell you what, Smoke. The only way you get outta this room, is if you kill us. So, have at it. Look, you can even take the first swing," he offered.

 Freyja stood up, shaky legs barely holding her. Then she did what Ronan always told her to do in these situations - she made a run for the door. The man closest to her stuck his leg out, tripping her, and she fell flat against the cold concrete floor, eating utter shit.

 "I told ya, Frank. The boss was right. She ain't gettin' outta here until her little boytoy comes to get her. News for you though, girly-q," he said, dragging her back to the hook so he could hang her from the ceiling again. "He thinks he's comin' in for a trade, and he's wrong. Rajz ain't playin' around wit' you Diamond folk anymore, and he's purging as many Fae as he can find. Timo's gonna freeze you both into ice blocks, then smash you into little pieces. So enjoy your time while you've got it."

 I was in the room for days. While I was in there, the humans released me several times, each time telling me the only way I was getting out of that room was if I killed them. A few times I actually fought them, but I couldn't bring myself to deliver the killing blows, and by then, the hesitation would give them too much ground. But they stopped pulling punches after I did, that much I could tell. I wasn't eating or sleeping, and slipped in and out of a dazed state between visits. While I hung there, they told me everything about where I was, what the plan was once Ronan got there to get me out. Every last detail about how Timozel was going to fuck our worlds up. And they talked about some crazy Fae Purge like it was the second coming of Christ.

 By day five, they told me Ronan had found my location, and that he was on his way. I knew Timozel was already there - I had felt his presence as soon as he'd come to the warehouse or wherever the fuck they'd taken me. Timozel was like the boogey-man to me. Not because I feared Niall any less, but because I knew of two very powerful hunters who bore his handiwork on their bodies - both of whom refused to have my brother and I remove it.

 "Don't worry," Timozel said, breaking me from my dream-like state. "You won't wear any scars on your body. You'll be dead before you healed such a thing." He paused. "Shame. I'd love for you to run back to Dmitri and show him what I've given you. Bet your white knight Fae boyfriend doesn't know you still talk to him. Maybe I can sew some seeds of doubt before I send you both off to that sweet goodnight."

 His words resonated down into Freyja's very core. First off, that he even knew she'd been in contact with Dmitri Arun was terrifying. But the humans had assured her that nothing happened anywhere in Europe without their knowledge, which made her think Diamond would have to step their game up. Second, that this was really about to happen. That he was really about to kill her. When he turned to walk away, she heaved a sigh of relief, but it had been too soon. The feeling of metal so cold that it burned cut through her back like lightning, and she screamed with a voice she didn't even know she had.

 "Maybe just one," Timozel said, like a naughty boy who'd stolen a sweet after he'd promised not to. Then he was gone, leaving her hanging there, screaming.

 "Here's the best part," the human Paul said excitedly, long after her screams had died out. "Your boyfriend? As far as we can tell, he's coming alone. We said no Diamonds or we'd kill you and send him your head, so I guess he took us seriously. What?" he said, looking at her expression. "We wouldn't really. Anyways, listen, we have an arsenal waiting in the wings for him." Paul's phone buzzed and he looked down at it. "Speaking of which, he's here. Just pulled up. Now, I gotta give them the signal to take him down, so if you'll excu-"

 His air was suddenly cut off as Freyja grabbed him with her legs. She locked them around his neck as hard as she could, all of that rage and terror ripping through her body like a drug. She couldn't let him give the signal, because they were going to collapse on top of Ronan like wolves, and ONE Paladin was still no match for that many of Midnight's specialty creatures, she didn't care how angry he was. She would not let his death be on her hands. She slipped the chain over the hook she'd been hung from, riding Paul around like a confused bear as she struggled to keep him from crying out or prying him off of her. She used one of the moves that Isabelle taught her, intending to take him to the ground. She would not let his death be her fault. She would not -

 crack

 She dropped her legs as the body she held went slack, and gaped in horror as Paul fell to the ground in a heap. In the struggle, she'd -

 "Holy shit, you broke his neck," Frank whispered. He was kneeling by Paul's body, looking up at her with - with fear in his eyes.

 Freyja pushed aside every fiber of her being that screamed, and steadied her voice. "He said I'd have to kill you both to get out of this room, so tell me, Frank, what do you think I'm going to do to you if you don't let me down right now?" she said as firmly as she could. She didn't remember doing it, but she had his gun in her hand, and she had it aimed at Frank's face.

 Once out of the room, Freyja tucked the gun into the back of her pants. She was trembling. Her back was burning. She'd use it only if she had to - as far as she could tell, the rest of the humans had cleared out. Just Midnight now. Just the worst of the worst, the legions of hell, the -

 "Freyja!"

 She turned with the gun drawn, pointing it at the source of the voice. It was Ronan. She froze. Was this a trap? She turned, the gun still clenched in her shaking hands, trying to scan the open warehouse violently for any signs of movement. There was none.

 "Freyja, put the gun down - it's over," he said, approaching her with caution. She dropped the gun and fell into his arms, sobbing loudly into his chest. She kept saying that Timozel had been there, that they were working on some Fae Purge and all sorts of other absolute madness. She said it all the way to the car waiting outside.

 "Freyja, Freyja, stop," Ronan said, smoothing down her hair as he knelt in front of her. "Timozel was never here," he told her softly. Next to him, Gunnar worked over her, healing her minor bruises and cuts and trying to keep her calm.

 "No, I SAW him," she insisted. "I saw him and he told me that he knew that I talked to Dmitri and Isabelle and that he wanted to mark me up like he did to them, but that he was going to kill us both and - NO, Ronan, I SAW him," she insisted, fighting off Gunnar angrily.

 "No, sweetie," Gunnar said, patiently avoiding her swats. "What you saw, was what Raphael wanted you to see."

 "Raphael?"she said slowly.  A flicker of memory danced before her - Anya, the SUV - it all made sense. It was all a game? "No, no, no no NO!" she screamed. She covered her face, trying to draw her knees to her chest as she shook violently. She had been so sure that Ronan's life was in danger. Had it all been a hallucination? Had the two men been figments of her fear-addled imagination?

 "My back, look at my back," she said hastily, jumping to her feet suddenly and grabbing her brother's arm with such force that it startled him. "Timozel cut my back with his blade, it feels like someone stuck dry ice to me, it has to be th..." she trailed off as she realized that her back had stopped hurting. She ran her fingers against her spine and felt nothing. "No, no no, that's not right..."

 "I just cleared the inside of the building," Benjamin said, approaching them and politely ignoring the theatrics. He glanced at Ronan and Gunnar, then fixed his eyes on Freyja. "Nothing inside. At all."

 Raphael had officially gotten himself shitlisted by Diamond, but he had gone about it in a spectacular fashion. And the demon kept my secret. But it eats away at me, on the inside, every day. Everyone can see the difference. They think it's because of how badly I was shaken up. Most of them have experienced the total and utter mind-rape of vampires much that were, I had thought, much worse, but from what I now know thanks to Nicolette, Raphael stands toe-to-toe with some of the baddest in terms of mental prowess.

 There was fallout, of course, aside from my own internal struggle. Ronan hadn't missed the remark about Dmitri, and I'd had to tell him that I'd flown to Prague not too long before to help the hunter that remained off grid. He'd been pissed. It wasn't the fight that ended it, but it was one in a long line of small explosions that led to the final kaboom. Honestly, it was my fault. I pushed him so far away to hide my inner psychosis that I pushed him right off the edge. When I broke up with him, he didn't even accept it right away. He kept insisting that if I would just tell him what was going on we could work through it. But the truth was, maybe I didn't want to work through it. Maybe, in some ways, I just wanted to be left alone. By everyone. Now where could I go to get away for a while?

 "Hey, beautiful," Dmitri said, stunned to see me standing behind him at the hotel bar in Amalfi. "What brings you?"

 Freyja smiled warmly, accepting Dmitri's embrace and the seat next to him. "I just needed to get away for a while. "

 Dmitri raised his eyebrow. "Your knight going to come kick my door in?" he asked. When she shook her head no, he reached out and put a hand on her leg, just above her knee. "I heard about what happened, Freyja. Are you okay?"

 She didn't smile, but she placed her hand on top of his. "No," she said honestly. "But right now, with you, I am."

 He gave her leg a little squeeze. "Whatever you want, beautiful."

 When Nicolette found out I'd gone to Amalfi to stay with Dmitri for what I told her was a few days (it wasn't), she had been furious. She warned me that the intel she had on him said he was getting closer and closer to crossing over. Of course, she didn't know that I had first-hand knowledge of that, as his personal healer. I needed Dmitri for obvious reasons. I had a darkness in myself now that I couldn't wash away. And if anyone knew how to deal with that, it was him.

 "What's the first rule?" Dmitri would always ask me when we started our training sessions. And I'd always answer, "Survive." He was one of the few who refused to let the fact that I was a Smoke stop me. He was one of the few who believed in me. It was why I believed in him. And by following the only rule he had, I killed him.

 "Come on, the movie wasn't that bad," Dmitri laughed, interrupting Freyja's ranting wherein she listed every plothole the movie had, and then went into great detail about why it wouldn't work. It was warm in Madrid, and they'd just gotten out of a theatre that featured random movies every weekend: this time, Avatar.

 "I'm not saying it was bad, I'm just saying that it's - " she stopped short, and then held her hands up. "You know what, I'll stop. Thank you for dinner, and for the movie. I'm being a git." She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a quick kiss.

 "Well, you're welcome, and don't stop now," he encouraged, smiling as she suddenly kissed him. "I want to hear more about the 'blue fairy cat people'," he said, making air quotes. He put an arm around her, glad that she was finally warming to the idea of public affection.

 In truth, his plan had gone better than expected. Nothing ever happened around Dmitri that he didn't have control over, or very little at least. Even his hunting expeditions he'd claim to that, if only because he deliberately put himself in situations and handled the outcome to the best of his ability. In his stubborn mind, that was control. And with Freyja, it had been a slow con - even though con wasn't the right word. He'd hate to use it, especially aloud. It was more like, the long hunt. After she'd showed up in Amalfi he knew it would only be a matter of time before he'd make her his, but it was important that it went the other way around. He left every move, every decision up to her, and even second-guessed her a few times because he refused to be one of her regrets.

 It had been a great success. It had just taken years. But he was a patient man.

 "No, I'm done," she insisted. "I really love it here, by the way. I'd like to continue to avoid anywhere cold, if that's okay with you."

 "It's perfectly fine by me," he assured her. "But you will have to tell someone where you are, eventually. That brother of yours can only believe 'on vacation' for so long."

 Freyja frowned. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the massive lie train she was currently riding, all for the sake of being left the hell alone. It wasn't that she didn't trust Gunnar to keep her secrets, it was just that they had a way of working themselves out eventually once they'd been spoken. She already had to deal with Benjamin, who had finally confronted her and told her that the next time he asked her for something, she'd be wise to agree. Isabelle didn't know what had happened, she only knew that something had.

 In fact, Isabelle had picked a fight with her the last time she'd even been back, which was when she'd returned from Amalfi after a long hiatus. She'd backed her into a corner to deliberately started a fight to goad Freyja into reacting instead of running away. And when Freyja finally DID react, Isabelle only gleaned that she knew who she'd been hiding with, and left the rest of it alone.

 Dmitri had not enjoyed hearing that, but Belle was one of the few he trusted. They'd actually done a little time together in Midnight. He was pleased about the fact that she'd noticed Freyja had a fighting style now, which spoke volumes about the quiet, shy Smoke Witch he'd first met years prior. No, she certainly took no issue to defending herself now. He was careful not to nurture the darkness he saw within her, however tempting it was at times. Freyja had finally told him what had happened in Russia, and it made him angry that she'd had to make those choices, but his goal was to make it so that she wouldn't have to make them again.

 "Eventually," she agreed, but by her tone she let it be known that this was not the topic she wanted to speak on. She leaned into him a little harder, as though even talking about leaving would suddenly make him disappear. She hated how finite he was. Every time she left him she was terrified it would be the last time she ever saw him. They weren't even together, they were just... together.

 She felt him stiffen against her, and instead of immediately asking what was wrong, as had been in her nature to do, she let herself pay attention to her surroundings. They were still walking, but there were no cars, no people, and only the sound of her heels on the sidewalk. She felt a chill run down her spine, and for a second, she became afraid. A noticeable drop in the temperature wrapped around her like a blanket, and a cold fog sank low at their feet, gaining a few feet in front of them as they waked.

 "Let's get you out of here," Dmitri said, his voice not betraying the haste his steps did. He was fucking primed, to be honest. They'd gone too long without any encounters, and he knew that things had been too smooth. His only concern was to get Freyja to safety, because of course it fucking was. That was the drawback about allowing himself to have a soul - it netted him responsibilities that he otherwise didn't like to deal with.

 "Won't be necessary," the voice behind them said. They turned, Dmitri angling himself in front of Freyja instinctively.

  "As much as I'd love a rematch, I'm a little busy," Dmitri snapped. Even staring down the face of his personal nightmare, he still couldn't lose the attitude. The mere mention of his name made the scars on his back burn, and facing him? It felt like he was on fire, but he wasn't deterred. After all, Timozel had failed to kill him once, and once was enough to create doubt. Timozel may have been older, but Dmitri was good at mind games, and he'd never let the failure on his life go. A vampire's pride was a weakness.

 "Such an ego on you," he said, his voice smooth. "But it'll only take a second, I promise. Grab her," he said, gesturing at Freyja.

 He'd distracted us so much that we didn't even know we weren't alone. Someone grabbed me from behind, and I screamed because I was surprised. The surprise was instant; my adrenaline was already flowing from seeing Timozel and being about one-thousand percent certain that he wasn't a hallucination. It only took a second to realize that I wasn't being attacked - I was being held. And for all of the training Belle had given me, it was like I had forgotten it. I felt like I was in a dream, like I weighed a thousand pounds, and trying to run underwater. I tried to turn my head to see my attacker, but I couldn't even make myself do that. It was like they wanted me to see.

 It was only a flash of gold. Dmitri could have caught it under any other circumstance but he was so distracted with the fact that Niall was holding Freyja that he just... was too slow. He raised a hand a split second too late, and the knife buried itself into his chest. Freyja waited for him to get up, to pull it out, but he just slowly sank down to his knees, and through her haze she realized that Timozel had thrown the only thing that they couldn't heal from at him.

 She broke free of the vampire holding her, but it was more because he let her go than her own strength. Niall just gave Timozel the thumbs up, indicating his delivery of the weapon, and his favour, was done - and vanished. He'd kill that motherfucker if he ever breathed a word of it to anyone, Verity's brother or not.

 "See?" Timozel said. "I told you it'd only take a second."

  Freyja dropped next to Dmitri, who was fighting to his maximum capacity still at his knees, and grabbed the firestone with her hand, ignoring the burning sensation it gave her. Normally, firestone was a friend of a Witch, but GOLD firestone was nobody's friend, and she needed to remove it as quickly as possible.

 "Leave it in, pull it out," Timozel taunted. "Doesn't matter. He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet. Typical Arun. Honestly, you -"

 He was cut off, with total shock, as Freyja yanked the object from Dmitri's chest and threw it with blind fury at the vampire. It buried itself into ice rather than his throat, with only a fraction of a second to spare. He looked into her eyes, and he saw absolutely nothing but himself reflected back. It might have bothered him if he were anyone else, but  he was only startled that the Smoke lived up to the company she kept. No hunter had been been able to come that close besides the one currently dying on the sidewalk, courtesy of him.

 "Impressive," he said, genuinely meaning it. "But he's still dead. And now all of your nightmares know your name." With that, he vanished.

 Freyja looked down at Dmitri, who was physically struggling against the injury, and she could see that he was going to slip away before long. She began priming herself to purge the damage. She'd been training for this, she could do this. She had to. She didn't have a choice. "Don't say anything," she instructed him, catching him as he fell backwards and resting him on the ground. It was the best she could do. "I'm going to fix this," she promised.

 "Don't," was his only response, his voice as close to pleading as she'd ever heard it. His entire body burned like he'd had acid injected into his fucking blood. That god damn firestone, that shit was bogus and he hated it so fucking much. He wanted to articulate to her that his magic would eat her alive trying to mend the unmendable injury, but his breath was otherwise taken away by what he suspected was a collapsing lung. He closed his eyes for a moment too long, opening them again to a sharp slap as she tried to jolt him back into the now.

 "Do not go gentle into that good night," she spoke, trying to make him listen to her voice. He had told her once that he recited it to himself when he was within Midnight's walls, and she knew that he had never told anyone else. Almost automatically, she continued through the verse, trying to lock onto him. She closed her eyes, placing her hands over the wound, and took a deep breath. It was now or never. Now or never. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light. And with that, she pressed her hands down, gritting her teeth as he screamed, and forced her magic into him.

 It was a power vacuum. It was hard to breathe. Darkness was trying to eat her whole. Gravity was crushing her chest, like she was sinking to the bottom of the ocean - but mostly, it was Dmitri's own body fighting against her while simultaneously fighting against its own injuries. Fucking Arun magic, she thought to herself, on the rare occasion she could think at all. It attacked everything at this point, finding any outside magic to be hostile regardless of intent. She had experienced it before, but never to this degree, and it was taxing.

 She was pouring herself into him, and it was literally killing her. She could see so much of him, so much of his memories, but she wasn't strong enough to hold him, and no matter how hard she tried, he pulled further and further back, and it got to the point where she risked only death if she followed him. She could feel him trying to force her out, but something darker reeled her in, and she was momentarily trapped. Freyja felt a disturbing stillness within the tumult of warring magic, and she forgot to breath, and her heart forgot to beat.

 "No," he finally sputtered. His last effort would not be to bring Freyja with him into the underworld, and with everything he had, he forced a break in their connection. Her magic was strong, stronger than he'd anticipated, but he was simply... stronger. As Timozel had been over him, he would be over her. "Let me go," he rasped, a choking cough escaping his mouth as blood followed. Timozel had good aim, he'd give him that, lucky motherfucker.

 Freyja nearly screamed aloud at the sudden release, the power snapping back at her like a massive rubber band. But it was no pain compared to his words, and she felt something inside of her burning and it wasn't just her body kicking back on.  It was raw terror. Fear that he would die. Fear that she would fail. It was happening again. It was happening again and this time it wasn't a hallucination, it was real. It was real, and it was really happening, because this was the real world.

 "No," she begged, her voice breaking in desperation. She began to cry - sob, actually, placing her hands on him again. He was actively fighting her power with the dying light inside of him, trying to prevent her from committing suicide on his behalf. "Please, baby, please stop fighting me," she pleaded, unable to stop shaking as she struggled to regain control of her magic. He was doing a stellar job of blocking her out, and it was breaking her heart into a thousand pieces to know that his last effort would be this fight.

 "Dmitri, STOP. FIGHTING. ME." She was screaming it, begging, smashing her fists into his chest to try and do something to shock him back into reality. She bowed her head for a minute, taking a breath to try and steady herself. She could feel him telling her to let go, hear his weak voice in her head saying a thousand things he never said aloud. Apologies, endearments, things he hoped for her and things he had wanted for her. It was nearly sensory overload, a barrage of unspoken loves and dreams and it pushed her over the edge and into the mouth of madness. She grew still and steady, and took a sharp breath.

 "No." It came out as a growl, and she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "If you thought that I would stop, you were wrong. Do you understand me, Dmitri? I will not," she hissed. She brought him into a sitting position, despite the pain that it caused him, and ignored his protests. At this juncture, she was stronger, and that meant that he was short on time. Freyja looked him dead in his eyes, locking her arm to prevent him from pulling away, which he tried to do in vain. "I will not lose you to this. To him." Her voice cracked. "You are mine, do you hear me? Mine."

 feed. live. blood. bite. now. live. feed. fight. fight. blood.

 Survive.

 Dmitri fought back with every fucking fiber of his being when he realized what she was doing, but he was fighting too much, and she hadn't just told him - she'd commanded him. She'd used what little power she had left to influence him, and normally it would have glanced off of him like a feather, but at the moment he wasn't able to resist much of anything. He sank his teeth into her as the clock ran out.

  Arun magic operates in pure survival mode. That is where their darkness truly dwells; Dmitri knew that better than anyone. They tap into the vampiric blood under extreme duress, and usually they're able to come back. I've read about it, late at night when nobody is in the archives. In fact, in every case, so long as they don't feed, they come back. And most of them choose death rather than turning completely. But I'd taken his choice from him, because I was selfish. I didn't want him to die. It was just like the threat of losing Ronan, where I enacted drastic measures at a complete disregard for every natural law and order I followed. But in working to seclude myself from my world, I'd waited too long. I hadn't called for help. I had tried to contain the problem that so obviously had gotten out of hand. I backed myself into a corner, and he was dying in front of me. And I refused to let that happen... So to keep him alive, I killed him. I killed Dmitri Arun.

 
 It was like liquid lightning in his veins. He could only think of that word, that command, survive, survive, over and over. It was his entire life, his purpose. To survive. Who had told him to survive? Freyja. Who was Freyja? Freyja was... a quiet voice in his head. The calm after the storm. A beautiful goddess, love and warmth and all the things he lacked. She trusted him implicitly, and that was a gift, a gift not to be taken for granted. And he could feel her slowly dying.

 And he was killing her.

 Something in him, the last bit of rationale he could find, pushed away the body he fed from. He barely let loose of his teeth in time, never again revisiting how close he'd come to ripping out her throat. Her magic may not have helped him, but her blood had - enough to sustain him against the injury for a spell, anyways. He'd need something more potent if he wanted to keep surviving, though; as it was, the world was already red and fuzzy around the edges, and he knew that 'a spell' was getting shorter by the second. His rage at his thoughts being for himself and not for Freyja rose sharply in him, but when he reached for her, she had pulled herself away from him, and was sobbing into the phone.

 "Gunnar, I need you," she cried. "Now!"

 He reached out to her, still feeling massive pain from the wound in his chest, and ended up crawling to her side. She barely had the energy to heal the wound on her neck, and he tried to press her own hand to it, the blood lighting up every function in his brain that wanted him to feed. He punched the ground with his other hand, effectively breaking it (the concrete and his hand) to try and resist the overwhelming urge to drain her. It only took another second before her brother was standing over them, at the escort of Benjamin (of all people). At least he could keep a secret.

 Gunnar was generally a quiet man, but seeing his sister half dead in the arms of a very-near-dead Dmitri made him have an awful lot to say. It took him about .02 seconds to get the whole fix on why she needed help, because Dmitri hadn't just bled out actual blood, but magic as well. And so had Freyja. In fact, the whole thing was like a fucking supernatural crime scene, and it was probably a massive beacon to literally anything even slightly sensitive within a several-mile radius. Which made that awful lot he had to say stack on a few more words behind it.

 "What a fucking mess," was all he settled for.

 "I'll get him," Benjamin told Gunnar. "He might try to bite you."

 "Not if he's smart," the healer snarled, scooping up Freyja. The couple had somehow entwined fingers, and Gunnar almost broke Dmitri's other hand prying them apart.

 "You know that's not exactly in his control," Benjamin said. He didn't know why he was defending Dmitri, but he was a valuable asset, and this would pretty much mean he owed Diamond his ass, and Benjamin had been collecting favors for a hot minute. He had no intention of stopping now.

 "Yeah," Gunnar grunted, shrugging against Freyja to stabilize his grip on her. He only loosely scanned her mind, trying to acquire details on the damage more than anything, but he wasn't going to ignore the extra information he gleaned as a result. She was stronger than he'd been giving her credit for, apparently - but so untrained, and so unstable. Ronan seemed protective of her, but in reality Freyja was in need of protecting - from herself, apparently. "Let's go." With that, they moved to a safer location.

  "My sister tries to kill herself to save you, and now she expects me to do the same," he informed Dmitri as Benjamin dropped the hunter unceremoniously onto the floor of the flat they'd taken over. He squatted down next to him. "I'm going to try, Dmitri. But I want you to know that I am going to make it hurt. And if she dies, you die." He looked him dead in the eye, and it was very obvious that he wasn't joking. Benjamin was actually a little impressed.

 And with that, Gunnar rolled up his sleeves.

 No more Dmitri. No more Ronan. No more men for Freyja, at least not for a while. She kept pulling the trigger and kept shooting herself instead, so clearly it was time to take a break. Unfortunately, she had gone to the one place where she was apt to run right the fuck into her ex, as apparently Ronan had started seeing one of the girls that worked at Hellcat's Hollow, which was fucking news to her. Dandy.

 She was honestly trying not to be jealous, or any of the other petty emotions that she was prone to (thank god she wasn't Fae), when the girl came over to her at her table. For a moment, Freyja just blinked rapidly. "What?" she said finally.

 Seraphine tilted her head a little, a confused smile on her face. "I said, is there anything else I can get you right now? My shift is about to end," added. "I'll pass you off to Serena, but I just wanted to check."

 God damnit, she was so nice and adorable it made Freyja want to punch her. She managed a smile, however tight-lipped it was. "No thanks, I'm good for now. Enjoy your night," she added curtly, trying to play nice. Fortunately for Freyja, Seraphine's good mood buzz was not to be deterred by the suddenly salty blonde, and the redhead nodded and took her leave.

 ....and went straight to the bar where Ronan was sitting and planted a kiss on his cheek.

 "You gotta be fucking kidding me," Freyja snapped.

 "Sorry?"

 Freyja's head snapped up and her eyes fixed on a tall, dark-haired man who had stalled out while walking by her, bottle of beer in his hand. Apparently he thought she'd been griping at him, and for the life of him, Britton couldn't figure out what he'd done. Of course, he'd just gotten done arguing on the phone with his ex-wife over the weekend plans for his son, so, you know, he was pretty primed to get blamed for anything else at that point.

 "Oh my god, not you," she blurted. She stood up, putting her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, I'm - wow," she said, stopping short. She had her hand firmly on Britton's bicep, and she was looking at it rather than at him. "Okay, uh - anyways," she said, yanking her hand away from him and smiling broadly, "Yeah, so my ex is over there, and he's got a new girlfriend, and this whole night is just not going how I planned. So, I'm sorry you thought that was directed at you, it totally wasn't." She stopped, waiting for him to leave. "You can go," she added, implying that her little speech was done. She was mortified at this point, and dropped down into the booth.

 Britton only smiled as she awkwardly sat back down, clearly getting something out of the red as it crept all the way up into her ears. "If you don't mind, I think I'll stay." He set his beer down and sat across from her. She was a Witch, he could tell that much, but definitely not a Vida. He held his hand out to her. "Britton."

 Freyja took his hand weakly. "Freyja. Smoke," she added. She could get that he was a vampire - the other things about him, she couldn't sense, probably because she was a combination of too drunk and not well-versed in demonology.

 "Yes," Britton said, doing the little victory fist-clench. "I knew you were a witch. I wasn't gonna say Vida, but I dunno. Maybe Arun? I've never met a blonde Arun actually," he muttered, glancing around. "I don't think they exist," he whispered.

 Freyja smiled a little in spite of herself, until he started in with the 'not a Vida' thing. How did everyone just know that she was a candy-ass? It was seriously getting to her. She'd almost taken out Midnight EUs second-in-command. It made her want to scream. "Why wouldn't you say Vida?" she pressed, her voice taking a... tone.

 Britton raised his eyebrows, and took a long sip of his beer. "Ohhhh no," he said, pointing at her. "I know that voice. I have an ex wife, lady, and lemme tell you, that's the same voice she uses when she says, "I just think it's funny that - " and it is never actually funny, whatever comes after that," he insisted, driving his finger down on the table to make his point. "Her new husband is just as bad."

 Freyja forgot her anger momentarily in favour of his own frustration. "Everyone's got exes," she sighed.

 "Yeah, but Laurel is especially vicious," he insisted.

 "Laurel? Oh god, that's a terrible name," Freyja said, instinctively curling her lip at it. She didn't know why she hated it so much, it was just so... flowery? She didn't know. "At least she isn't here with her spouse, so you don't have to look at them kissing and - ugh - being happy," she snapped. She dropped back the last of her drink suddenly. Wow, she was really feeling it. She never let loose on her feelings that way with a stranger. She looked back at Britton.

 He shrugged. "You do have a point," he admitted, nodding in concession to her. He turned his head. "Which one is he?" he asked, scanning the room. There was a gargoyle at the end of the bar touching noses with Serena - that was Ray, it definitely couldn't be him. Britton knew him, they were both cops. Who else looked happy? Chloe was dancing with Anthony on the floor, both of them apparently abandoning Darren for the time being - but it was a slower night at the moment, so clearly they gave no fucks.

 "Oh, you're about to find out," Freyja said, brows raised. "I think we should take off," she suggested suddenly. "This never ends well."

 Britton stood as abruptly as she had. "Look, I'm a cop. I'm in pretty good standing with people, so if you need a ride somewhere, or if you want to walk it off - " he paused, trying to word it right. "You're safe with me," he said, finally deciding on how to word it.

 "Sounds good," Freyja said. She burped, and then made a terrible face. "Listen, Britt, I hate to be a pill, but I need to get air, like now. Preferably before he comes over to see what's going ON HEY Ronan, how are you?" she asked, indicating that he'd rolled directly behind Britton. The vampire turned, offering his most clean-cut good citizen smile. He felt a tug on his hand and looked back to Freyja, who was practically running to the door. "Just leaving, bye!" she cheered.

 "Freyja," Ronan said, and it was really clear by the edge in his voice that he was going to say what he came to say. "Can I talk to you for just a sec?" He smiled back at Britton, but his smile was all teeth. It was all threat.

 Britton furrowed his brow, getting a whiff of Ronan now that he was in his personal space. Fucking fairies, he thought to himself. Of course it would be a Fae. He couldn't tell alignment just by looking at them, but sizing up Ronan he'd have to guess Light if he was forced to choose. The guy looked really - stuck up, was that the word? He wasn't sure. "We were just leaving, actually," Britton said calmly.

 Ronan raised his brow. "I'd like to talk to Freyja alone, if you don't mind," he said. There was an edge to his voice that made it clear he was just on the other side of playing nice.

 "Britton, I think -" Freyja started, but Britton cut her off.

 "No, chick, it's cool," he said. He lowered his voice. "Look friend, I don't know what your deal is, but I'm just gonna take her to get some food. A few of my friends are at Denny's, it's not a big deal. She's safe with me. So back off, okay?" He was trying to stay as chill as possible, and he had every intention of walking her over to Denny's to meet Brandy and John and the rest (he bet she'd like Felicia), and just generally get her away from the tense situation, but this fairy was not having it.

 "Listen, friend," Ronan said, his voice equally low, "I know exactly one other vampire who reads like you, and he isn't exactly 'safe', so you'll have to excuse my lack of faith in whatever you have going on. Now, this is between she and I, so I'm only going to say this once, back off." He set his jaw, absolutely prepared to square up with the demon-tainted vampire. He was well aware he was in the Hollow, but he'd yank his ass outside in a hot second if he needed to.

 "Ronan?" Freyja said, finally wedging herself between the two mammoths as they made ready to go toe-to-toe. "I'm going." She patted him on the chest, hard. "Your girlfriend? She's staring." She paused. "Congrats on your upgrade, by the way. She looks twelve." She turned and looped her arm through Britton's, ignoring the tension she felt. "There was talk of Denny's?" she prompted.

 As they walked out of the Hollow, Britton unclenched slightly. "I almost had to kick that guy's ass, you realize that, right?" he asked his new friend, laughing a little into the cool night air.

 "No offense, but he'd have smeared you," Freyja said, completely sure of the fact. "You don't tangle with too many Fae, do you?" She walked in step with him, wondering how it was she was always caught up with tall, dark-haired men late at night.

 "You know, I can't say I have. I know some pretty unique ones, though," he said, trying to lessen the sting of his defeat at the battle that had never happened. He thought of the Kirin, Unicorn, and Luck Dragon that graced the Hollow with their presence. "Definitely unique," he corrected. "He's not a Dragon, is he?" he laughed again.

 "No, he's not a dragon," she admitted. He was worse.

 "Bad breakup? He cheat or something?" he asked, trying to get a little history. "Dude was awfully possessive back there."

 It was Freyja's turn to laugh. "Actually, I broke up with him. It's protective, by the way - not possessive. And that contributed to the falling out. Which, I will tell you all about someday, new friend - but not tonight. If that's okay," she added.

 "Fine by me," he assured her. He opened the door to Denny's, bowing. "After you, my lady," he said, graciously sweeping his arm toward the group already seated at the tables pushed together in the center of the restaurant.

 As they walked to them, Freyja reached out - not to the group, but at the vampire. She wanted to read him. It hadn't escaped her, what Ronan had said, and to his credit, Britton's energy had a very specific flavour to it, for lack of a better word. But it wasn't as extreme as Benjamin, the vampire who currently had her name in his book as 'favour owed'. Did they know eachother? She felt his hand at the small of her back, ushering her to an empty chair, and she shook her head clean of the conspiratorial thoughts.

 "Hi," she said, sitting down and holding her hand out to a woman with warm brown eyes. "I'm Freyja."

 "Brandy," the woman returned. "Say Britton, where'd you find this'n? She's damn adorable.  Oh shut up, John," she said, swatting at the man next to her who was trying to get her to stop being so nosy. "I'll quit bein' nosy when I don't have any more knowledge to possibly gain."

 Freyja laughed aloud at that. This Brandy reminded her of Nicolette, to a degree. She decided that maybe she liked these friends of Britt's - and maybe she could stop being miserable for breaking it off with yet another 'love of her life' - if even for just a night.