


Ace in the Hole

by SpeedDemon315



Category: Underworld
Genre: Adventure, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-01-19
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2013-07-28 10:41:01
Rating: T
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,504
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4803267/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/790065/SpeedDemon315
Summary: [Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other pairings]





	1. I: An Alliance of the Unknown

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **AU When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucien cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**I:** _An Alliance of the Unknown_

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats

"The Two Spirits: An Allegory" by Percy Bysshe Shelley

**Disclaimer: Hmmmm? Me own Underworld? Don't I wish, I would love for darling Lucian to belong to me. Yet I have Thanatos and his henchmen so that is quite comforting.**

* * *

"_Turning and turning in the widening gyre_

_The falcon cannot hear the falconer_

_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;_

_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_

_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere_

_The ceremony of innocence is drowned;_

_The best lack all conviction, while the worst_

_Are full of passionate intensity."_

_**-The Second Coming, **_William Butler Yeats

* * *

In the vapid room of concrete walls, a man with unruly dark drown hair paced furiously back and forth across the besmirched floor, his mind whirling with troubles and concerns. After Raze's incertitude that the three vampires–Death Dealers nonetheless–were aware or not that he and some of his brethren had been following the human Michael, Lucian contemplated what do about this little kink to his plans. He didn't like the circumstances of the situation, not in the slightest yet the lycan leader could find no other option then to bury the annoying detail into the back of his mind and then proceed with his scheme.

"Lucian!" The said man whirled around to face a werewolf of lesser status, a young man around twenty-two or so years of age.

"Yes, what is it?" Lucian answered curtly, making his way towards the young lycan. His messenger shifted slightly–anxiety perhaps?–before speaking again.

"There's a man outside…waiting for you. He won't leave until he is granted an audience with you, Lucian." the lycan messenger finished automatically and one brown eyebrow arched slightly on Lucian's features.

"Did he say who he was?" The dark-haired youth shook his head.

"No, he refused to say anything about himself until he met you."

Sighing in aggravation, Lucian stormed out of the room and went to the front side of his lair–for lack of a better term–to confront this enigmatic man. When the lycan burst open the door he faced a man around the same age as he, only with skin wavering in a hue of extremely fair to irrefutably pale, hair dark as a raven's feathers and profound eyes akin to emeralds. A nicely trimmed goatee and mustache also adorned his features, another trait similar to Lucian's. He was garbed in long, flowing ebony robe that seemed suspiciously majestic, partly concealing a grey shirt and leather pants underneath. When the man saw Lucian approach, a pleased smile split across his features and solid thud of his boots echoed across the vicinity as he practically glided to Lucian.

"Hello, Lucian, leader of the rebel army of lycans," he greeted smoothly, a glint of amusement flickering in his smoky viridian eyes, "I am so pleased you decided to meet me."

"Who are you?" Lucian demanded bluntly, skipping any forms of formalities with this strange man. He seemed human, he _smelled _like a human yet…there was an aura of prestige and preternaturalness encasing him, making his imposing panjandrum hard to ignore.

The peculiar man smirked complacently at Lucian's brusque request, unfolding his arms while bringing them to his sides. That fleeting movement was precisely when Lucian received a glimpse of the handle of a saber peeking out of his obsidian robe. Once more, Lucian's interest was piqued and he stared expectantly at the stranger, waiting for an answer.

"I am Thanatos Wakahisa, notoriously known as 'the Reaper of All Souls'," he introduced to Lucian with a mock bow, "I have come to you, Lucian, with an offer of an alliance."

Masking his bafflement, the lycan ruler quickly remarked, "Why do you wish to align yourself with me? What is this war to you and what do you hope to gain if we win?" The smirk on Thanatos's visage remained, though his eyes took on a conniving luster as he gauged Lucian analytically.

"You still keep your wits about you and your mind sharp, Lucian," he commented approvingly, speaking this as if he was merely talking about the weather, "Excellent, I knew I was making the right choice."

As if he had sensed the lycan's apparent irritation for not answering his questionnaires, Thanatos sighed shortly. "I have been observing this war from afar for quite some time, Lucian. The vampires…I brook no desire to join in their campaign, they are sinking ship if you ask me." He chuckled mirthlessly, his deep viridescent orbs gleaming with a subtle hint of malice. "Back to the point…I know you have acquired a covert truce with the vampire Kraven but can you really trust him wholly?" His query prompted a puzzled glance from Lucian, who knew Kraven was a bit unpredictable but reckoned the ambitious vampire wouldn't do anything stupid or rash that could jeopardize his chances in lording over both vampire covens.

"In order for an allegiance to work properly and efficiently, both parties must be willing to trust and rely on each other. They have to be assured that their partner won't try to stab them in the back or plot against them along the sides. I have studied this Kraven closely and perceived he isn't the most trustworthy of ally to have."

"He's only one who can help my men kill the Elders," retorted Lucian defensively, narrowing his dusky eyes on Thanatos, "And don't think I don't know that about him. That's why I make sure I keep him in line and have him worry about being found out by one of his own than to betray me."

Thanatos nodded, fingering something in the pocket of his robe. "Understandable but what if after you both succeed with your plans, Kraven decides to dispatch you and appoint a new lycan leader that he himself can control. The man is power-hungry and doesn't like when he's being controlled by others."

"If he had me killed my men would see through the guise and have him butchered. None of my lycans will be a puppet on that dastard's strings."

"True, true, yet how will you know that for sure? Perhaps you death will appear to be an accident and there won't be enough evidence to incriminate him. Then what?" Thanatos let his smirk drop, replaced with a sober expression.

Lucian glared glacially at all of Thanaots's ripostes although he had to admit the man had a point. "So is that why you want to align yourself with me?" he finished, assaying to sort all the puzzles and complexities submerging themselves into his brain by this rather odd, intricate conversation he was having with Thanatos.

"Yes…and no. I have my own reasons for proposing such a proffer," stated Thanatos placidly, noticing the silent glower he was receiving from the head lycan, "If you still do not believe me…allow me to do a favor for you to earn your trust."

"And what would that be?" Lucian asked, wondering what sort of person Thanatos was to be willing–eager almost–to be forming a liaison with a pack of fractious, deadly werewolves that could easily tear his throat out if in their wolf forms.

A wicked grin slithered across Thanatos's lips, the same scheming gleam in his emerald eyes. "I am offering to resurrect your beloved Sonja...and when I do, I would like us to establish an alliance against the vampires." Regalement soon overtook his features as he watch shock and astonishment dance across Lucian's face, disbelief glimmering in his umber eyes.

"Impossible," breathed Lucian, "How can that possibly be achieved?"

Smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary, Thanatos withdrew his hand out, producing a small, besmirched rosary with a sable cross dangling in the middle.

"Revival can be accomplished…when you're a necromancer, Lucian."

* * *

"How much longer do you think the Master going to be with that werewolf?" voiced a rich, melting timbre belonging to a beguilingly dashing young man with alabaster skin and spiky jet-black hair, "It has been almost twenty minutes and we haven't heard anything from him yet."

"And he wanted to meet the leader of the lycans _alone_," added a dark-haired woman who seemed to be of Spanish descent, "Usually if he didn't want all of us to come with him, Master would bring Ukon along." She whipped her head around to the aforementioned man, who was staring out into the horizon, searching for any signs of his master.

"Do not question Master's orders, Blanca," Ukon responded staidly, never averting his gaze from the silhouette of the lycan hideout, "Thanatos-sama knows what he is doing; he would never commit a foolish act."

A dry cackle came from an old woman sitting on a stump of tree, who was next to the spiky-headed young man. "Aptly spoken, Ukon. Our Master is a cunning man, he can't be outfoxed by one person; it will take an army in order to accomplish that."

Before any of her so-called comrades would reply, a mental voice whipped through their minds, summoning them to duty.

_All of you, come to me. Lucian has agreed to my terms and I need one of you to bring the urn. _

_I shall bring it, Master, _the ancient woman mused inwardly, bending over to take a red violet and dun vessel and cradle the trinket in her thin arms.

_Thank you, Magna. Now that has been taken care of, it's time for you to meet the leader of the lycans. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you all. _

Thanatos's minions smirked at that last bit of their leader's statement, delighted probably won't be the appropriate word for their arrival yet the necromancer's sarcasm was amusing at times.

"Time to depart," croaked Magna, huddling the urn close to her sunken breasts. As soon as the announcement left her lips, they were gone, disappearing into the wind and melting into the shadows of the night.

* * *

"_O thou, who plumed with strong desire_

_Wouldst float above earth, beware!_

_A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire—_

_Night is coming!_

_Bright are the regions of the air,_

_And among the winds and beams_

_It were delight to wander there—_

_Night is coming!"_

_**-The Two Spirits: An Allegory, **_Percy Bysshe Shelley

* * *

Well, even though I have two other stories I should be working on, this idea came out of nowhere. I really can't escape all the plot wolverines and hawks (Note: I don't receive plot bunnies, my story ideas besiege me in a more vicious manner) they attack from all ends. Next, the plot orcas will come and get me…

Thanatos: Can you please stop digressing and get to the point?

Careful, Thanatos, or I just might toss you to the fangirls.

Thanatos: -rubs temples- Just get to the point.

Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I decided to work on this story as soon as I came up with it–after with some prodding from **Celtic Aurora **and **vamplady101 **(they really wanted me to write this story). There will be some various, er, alternate or unusual pairings as the story goes on so if you don't like who gets paired up with whom, don't flame me with a review or a PM. Rule number one in fanfiction: Do no piss off the author. The repercussions will be deadly.

Thanatos: Are you done yet?

I suppose so. I'm just going to add my chapters are certainly going to be longer than this, prologues tend to be rather short for me.

Thanatos: You simply enjoy inserting cliffhangers.

Ah, true. That I do.


	2. II: Love Resurrected

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **AU When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucien cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**II:** _Love Resurrected _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Because I could not stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson

"Paradise Lost" by John Milton

**Disclaimer: Guess again. **

* * *

"_Because I could not stop for Death—_

_He kindly stopped for me—_

_The Carriage held but just Ourselves—_

_And Immortality."_

_**-Because I could not stop for Death, **_Emily Dickinson

* * *

Selene paced furiously in her room, her eyebrows furrowing in utter frustration and rage as she sat back down in the chair. Her little run-in and the unsavory discussion with Kraven left a bitter taste in her mouth and sent her blood boiling more so than ever. Pushing her indignation of Kraven's pig-headed tactics aside, the composed Death Dealer opened the pictures stored on Rigel's camera, silently thanking him for taking so many photos on the enemy and their target before his death.

_Why would they follow a human? It doesn't make any sense. _

But hardly anything ever did, ever since Viktor went to rest and handed over the chain of command to Kraven as Amelia became the ruling Elder for both vampire covens. Kraven…why him? He did not possess the true skills of a warrior; he was an aristocrat, a bureaucrat if nothing else. Yet he was appointed by Viktor himself to rule in his stead, which still baffled her to this day.

Her inner musings gradually faded away as Selene studied and indentified the young man whom the lycans were stalking. His name was Michael Corvin and his flat was nearby, a couple of miles from the manor itself. She could drive there in less thirty minutes and slip inside his room with no one the wiser. That is, if he was still at work when she broke into his complex and investigated his effects.

_Well, the longer I sit here and do nothing, the more of the chance he'll be home. _

In one smooth, quick motion, Selene had grabbed her coat, slipped it on and sprung out of window before Erika or Kraven unceremoniously entered her quarters, regardless if she wanted to see them or not.

* * *

At first, Lucian didn't know what to think when he beheld a small posse of six people practically materializing out of the shadows and into full view. And Thanatos regarded them with firm familiarity, as if they were his devoted and loyal subjects.

"Lucian," drawled out Thanatos, "I would like you to meet my followers–or soldiers, for lack of a better term. Ukon, come forward." He gestured with one hand, beckoning the man called Ukon to step up.

The lone Oriental man of the group separated himself from his peers, a blasé, alert expression etched on his defined features as he rested his full, onyx eyes on the lycan leader. For a moment, the two men gauged each other carefully, taking in the other's image for future reference. This Ukon man was donned in what looked like to be a traditional Japanese _h__akama_**(1)**_,_ his entire outfit was black as the night–save for a crimson sash tied around his waist. A golden symbol of a lordly dragon swallowing a bear in whole was stitched at the very end of the garnet material.

Abruptly, he bowed low before Lucian, dipping his head forward so no eye-contact was given. "_Hajimemashite_**(2)**, Lucian-san," he greeted placidly, bending himself back up, "It is an honor to meet the man who fights for the freedom of his people."

Lucian couldn't fully understand why, but at that precise moment, he took an instant liking to Ukon, no matter how strange he seemed or smelled. It wasn't because he praised or bowed to him like he was king, the reason was something else. Whether it was Ukon's sincere cordiality or the true fidelity glowing in his eyes as he flanked Thanatos's right side protectively, Lucian knew he could trust him.

The two people he was introduced to next were Jacob and Blanca. Just by one brief, cursory glance at them Lucien fathomed they were a couple–and a rather darkly peculiar one. Jacob was a middle-aged man with pepper-speckled whiskers around his chin and jaw line and streaks of faint grey mingled subtly with his inky hair. His mate, Blanca, was much younger and possessed a beautiful, shimmering mane of silky, curly black hair that's color could rival the starless nights. Yet Lucian noticed a swirling mix of cruelty, sadism, and malign glimmering in their deep, chocolate brown eyes. As soon as they had their word with him, the two bounded off into a shadowy corner, giving each other heated, wanton looks.

"Pay those two no mind, darling," purred a mellifluous, seductive voice in his ear, "They always had quite a barbarously salacious relationship."

Startled by the overly nigh and intimate proximity of next henchmen of Thanatos, Lucian whirled around with casual and quiet force to face a stunningly gorgeous and striking young woman. She was generously endowed, her graceful body voluptuous and curvaceous that could drive the Greek goddess Aphrodite insane with jealously. Soft, downy burnet tresses flowed past her slender shoulders, resting near the mid section of her back. Her lips were full and sensual, designed to tempt and tantalize men with its charming pout or simper. Adorning her form was an unadulterated, albicant dress that possessed deep slits along the sides which ended up somewhere near her thighs.

"And you would be?" Lucian forced out, tearing his eyes away from the sensuous lady. She offered him a wanton smile, her golden eyes sparkling with untoward lust and ardor.

"I'm Clarissa, dearie," she purred, filtering her fingers through Lucian's scraggy yet smooth dark umber hair for a fleeting moment prior to she withdrew her hand, the same amorous gleam in her amber orbs. "If you or your boys don't want to be alone for the night, I'll be available for your company...and so much more." Winking, she waltzed off, probably scope her surroundings in high hopes that there would be a young lycan to ensnare with her magnetizing allure.

_Well, that was…interesting, for lack of a better term. _

"It'll take awhile to resist her charms, you know. She was practically created to entice the opposite sex," drawled out a pale, slender fellow off to the side, the wispy, faint glow of the three-quarter moon glimmering off his spiky, jet-black hair. The alabaster young man stepped directly into the waning moonlight, his caliginous eyes boring into Lucian. "I'm Edward, by the way." He brought out his hand for Lucian to shake and the lycan slowly accepted, feeling more and more discombobulated by all these introductions and new faces he would have to memorize.

"And my name is Magna!" cackled a shrill, raspy voice which was revealed to belong to a hunched, wrinkled old crone who carried a solfernia tinted vassal that appeared to be an urn. Before Lucian could inquire why there was an urn present, Thanatos stepped up and ended the little conjunction instantly with the smooth richness of his timbre.

"We have to work quickly, Lucian, if we want to gain the advantage over the vampires," he stated placidly, nodding his head to Magna who opened the lid to the urn. Meanwhile, Edward, Ukon, and Jacob brought out a small coffin, placing the open sepulcher in front of Magna. The archaic woman then began carefully spreading and sprinkling the ashes all over the bottom of the wooden chest.

"What are you doing?" Lucian demanded earnestly to Thanatos, both men's eyes fastened on the working Magna.

"She's unloading the ashes of your beloved, Sonja," the arcane necromancer answered promptly, a barely inscrutable smirk curling upon his lips, "It took us quite some time to find her ashes but we preserved and succeed. Every grain of ash is an iota of her, not a single particle must be lost in this process. I'm going to need full concentration for this double resurrection." The last sentence caused Lucian to snap his head around, completely forgetting the strange ritual Magna was performing.

"Wait, you said _double _resurrection. Who else are you are planning to bring back to life?"

Thanatos's smirk widen at the lycan ruler's question, his smoky viridian eyes gleaming with mild amusement. "When Sonja burned, she wasn't the only one who died. Your child perished along with her."

Lucian stared incredulously at him, unable to comprehend what his potential ally was insinuating. "Are you saying—"

"—that I am also going to revive your unborn child? Yes, I am. I can be very generous to my abettors."

"Master, it is done," croaked out Magna, "the ashes have been scattered."

"Which means it's my turn to finish this spectacle," mused Thanatos thusly, striding up to the coffin, a besmirched cross attached to ebony rosary beads dangling loosely from his hand.

Hanging the blackened cross over the casket, he fixated his ruthless gaze intently at the body of ashes and foreign, unintelligible words started pouring profusely from his mouth. Lucian strained his ears to understand the dark incantation but the speech was unlike he had ever heard of before. The litany trickling out of Thanatos's lips definitely had to be the language of the dead, the main power of necromancers.

"Don't you want to take a look to see the progress Master is making?" Clarissa purred inquisitively in his ear, her soft, beautifully shaped hands placed affectionately on his shoulder and back as she guided him closer to her master and the coffin. "Just don't produce much noise, we wouldn't want to disturb his concentration now, would we?"

Begrudgingly taking her advice, Lucian peered down at the casket and by one glance, he was suddenly seized with a spasm of shock and astonishment. The ashes, once fine and tiny, were molded together, forming a rough replica of a body–a female body. The charcoal color was rapidly fading, a pale, pearlescent hue replacing it while the roughness of the figure became unbelievably smooth and soft that Lucian almost doubted that if he reached out to touch the body, he wouldn't feel skin but something altogether ethereal. Yet flesh did indeed presided over the bodily form and long, thick inky hair soon sprouted from the scalp and flowed downward like a dark wave of silk. Though he could hardly register the concept, Lucian knew right before his very eyes was the body of Sonja, being reconstructed back to her former glory as life was slowly being restored back to her. That included their baby, the blending of two potent species that Viktor had feared so much through out his entire existence. And now, this peculiar necromancer was hauling the brutal vampire Elder's fear straight out of the ashes—literally.

Just then, Thanatos's voice delved into an imposing, compelling crescendo, each word turning more passionate and lucid, as if he was reaching deep into his soul to call the spirit of Sonja and her child to come away from the dead and rejoin the living. As the final note of Thanatos's spell rang across the vast, barren region, two extraordinary actions happened: Sonja's eyes shot open and a huge gasp erupted from her, her bare chest heaving outward.

"Lucian?" she panted, her seemingly sable eyes resting on his quizzically as she dubiously began rising out of her makeshift casket.

"Sonja," the said werewolf breathed, sinking to his knees to wrap his arms around his love, unable to fathom that he was embracing a live, breathing Sonja. "I can't believe it worked…"

"What worked?" she asked, looking more perplexed than before. Lucian smiled softly at her and turned her head slightly around so she could behold Thanatos.

"His name is Thanatos, Sonja. He's a necromancer, he revived you and our child," he explained methodically. As if on cue, Thanatos took a small bow forward, mirth dancing subtly across his features.

"It's an honor to meet you at last, Lady Sonja," the necromancer remarked simply while beckoning for Clarissa and Blanca. The two women came forward, a simple yet elegant dress of blue slate and teal draped on in their outstretched hands.

"Wear this for now," instructed Clarissa imperviously and Sonja accepted the gown hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth from them, Thanatos, and the rest of his cohorts.

"Who are you? And what's going on?!" she cried out coolly, sharpening her stony gaze on the strange new people around her. She glanced up at Lucian for answers, ones he was all too willingly to give.

"They, Sonja, are my allies. They are going to help us defeat your father. Once and for all."

* * *

Far away, miles and miles from Lucian's hideout and the vampire covens, a young woman with flowing chestnut hair sat silently in her humble abode as she stared intensely at a bowl of clear, still water in front of her. She sighed, obviously frustrated with her lack of success and leaned back in her chair, ready to call it quits for the today.

However, a ripple abruptly appeared in the center of the bowl, spreading outward and forming more ripples until the water was no longer even but ragged and percolating. An iridescent luminescence sparkled majestically inside of the water and images flashed like a phantasmagoria, invoking a small gasp and cry of triumph from the female's lips.

"Finally! She's going to be so pleased when I tell her about this," murmured the brunette as she clumsily fished through her bag for her cell phone, flipping it open and dialing the number in fierce haste. The lady then placed the phone to her ear, waiting for the ringing to stop and for her companion to pick up. Finally, there was an answer and she was greeted with a semi-curt 'hello'.

"Guess what? You're not going believe what I just sensed…" commenced the lithe, brown-haired woman, a victorious smile adorning her sun-kissed visage she immediately plunged into a retelling of the visions and images and what they could possibly mean.

Outside, the wind howled and smacked itself tumultuously against the bricked house, night already encasing the land in total darkness. Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, another war unlike any other was imminent and a battle was just on the rise, vengeance ready to be slacken with the blood of the enemy.

_This time, we got them now, _mused the brunette as she turned off her cell phone and marched herself to straight to her room, dead-tired from all her mystical work and other daily tasks she had to complete.

If by chance, she caught her reflection in the mirror and she grinned impishly at herself, touching the mirror as if the mere glass held some sort of power or connection with her. "War is already brewing, Mother, Father," she whispered, hazel eyes sparkling dully as she stared aimlessly at her doppelganger in the mirror, "Soon, the wronged will have their revenge. And then our family can be redeemed, set free from this wretched curse."

Silence greeted her bold statement yet she expected that much. Her parents had been deceased long ago and she didn't have the skills to communicate with the dead either. After quickly brushing her impeccably straight chocolate brown tresses, she slipped into bed and instantly was taken into sleep's bosom as soon as her head hit the pillow.

In the other room, where the water bowl laid, the once tranquil, crystal clear liquid bubbled hectically once more and glowed, yet in colors of deep sapphire, blood-red, and jet. Tiny sparks jumped out of the boiling water and dived back in while hazy yet powerful images blazed in the center, dark grey smoke curling underneath the prognostics.

"_Kill them…" _decreed a cold, brutal voice from the water, a speaker from the future. Suddenly, the water began to lapse into serenity, the temperature decreasing and the pictures and ominous light faded away. Once more, the bowl was as the female had left it: innocent, clear, smooth, and halcyon.

* * *

"_All is not lost; the unconquerable will,_

_And the study of revenge, immortal hate,_

_And courage never to submit or yield: _

_And what is else not to be overcome?_

_That glory never shall his wrath or might_

_Extort from me."_

_**-Paradise Lost, **_John Milton

* * *

**Word Terms/Glossary:**

**(1) **_hakama- _a traditional Japanese samurai outfit.

**(2) **_Hajimemashite_- "how do you do?"

**Color Glossary: **

Burnet- dark brown

Albicant- white

Solfernia- purplish red

Jet- black

There you go folks, Sonja is back, alive and kicking! I told you she would be resurrected, did I not?

Thanatos: Actually, I think I did.

…Anyway, I hope this chapter was certainly a pleasure to read after waiting a month or so for an update (I'm suppose to be working on _Bringing Back What's Dead_ but this chapter was practically begging to be written so I complied to its wishes). The last section probably was a little peculiar for some of you, the unnamed woman shall be revealed later and the same goes for the person she was calling.

Lucian: If any of you readers read her first fanfic, _BLOOD, MOON, AND WAR,_ before it was deleted you'll know one of them already.

-glances at the open door- I better close that before more characters start popping out and disclosing any more secrets…

Thanatos: And SpeedDemon would like to thank all those who had reviewed chapter one: Celtic Aurora, Jazza, 13139allysonfanficlover, vamplady101, Elfvamp1-13-97, Reechan37, Astrid, and Skystrike26. 

I must tell you, I was only expecting in receiving one or two, not eight… Thanks again for the feedback!

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_


	3. III: Death Dealer vs Succubus

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucien cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**III: **_Death Dealer vs. Succubus _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Ghost Opera" by Kamelot

"The Phantom Agony" by Epica

**Disclaimer: Come on, people, do you really think I'd be writing this if I owned Underworld? Viktor would have gotten a much more agonizing death than just simply having his head sliced in two. Also, I woefully do not own Catherine Van Helsing, Celtic Aurora is merely loaning her to me for this story. **

* * *

"_Welcome all to curtain call  
At the opera  
Raging voices in my mind  
Rise above the orchestra  
Like a crescendo of gratitude  
This is my song._

_Like the dead  
I am on the other side  
They're howling in my head  
There's no remorse and no redemption."_

_**-Ghost Opera, **_Kamelot

* * *

The fragile wooden door easily crumbled against the impact of her kick, swinging wide open for Selene to easily storm into. Gun poised in the air, all she met was a vacant room pitched in blackness. Resisting the urge to huff, Selene scanned the small apartment room with her usual apathy, browsing through his effects for any clues. A pocketful of pictures came into view and seizing them, the distant Death Dealer methodically flipped through them, lingering only at the ones that contained the American doctor Michael and the nameless woman who was smiling right next him.

A brief, searing pang shot into Selene's heart, the name _Jarek_ echoing in the recesses of her mind. Furiously ridding her head of the painful image of her late lover, Selene discarded the pictures back into the draw and shut it hastily. Just as soon as she did, her keen ears detected faint footsteps coming in her direction.

Leveling the gun to her face, Selene dove for a darkened corner and hid behind it, startled momentarily to see two glossy onyx spiders with dull yellow spots scuttle out of her way. Shrugging the strange encounter off, Selene plastered herself to the wall, waiting patiently for the young, unsuspecting doctor to come home.

* * *

Long, smooth legs skilled with a natural, graceful stride sashayed over to a quaint, broken-down flat, long burnet tresses blowing majestically into the crisp evening wind. Her sensuous snowy white gown was a pure beacon in the middle of the night yet she moved with such stealth and speed she was barely noticed to the untrained eye.

Approaching the list of tenants in the flat, Clarissa trailed one finger down the names until she came across _Corvin, Michael_.

"This is almost too easy," she muttered silkily, her clear, melodious voice a treat to any man's ears, "Blanca could have done this with no trouble at all." She continued her merry way into the apartment complex, the niveous skirt of her unblemished dress flaying outward with every step. Suddenly, she jerked her head up, there to witness two tiny spiders with marigold dots painted on their backs lowering themselves down to her by a single, gossamer thread. Rosy lips curling into a wicked grin, Clarissa lifted her pointer finger out to them so the creatures could land safely.

"Hello there, my pretties," she cooed, rubbing their small heads with a finger, "Is the little doctor in his room?"

The two spies chattered noiselessly to her, reporting of an intruder and how she smelled of leather and vampires. Michael, they added, was about to enter his room, unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows for him. Clarissa arched one elegantly shaped eyebrow and frowned slightly at this disturbing news. Michael wouldn't be alone–there was someone else inside, a Death Dealer no doubt.

_I wonder…does she know what Lucian wants with him? _

"Get the others, Egan and Adara. We must keep our little vampire friend busy." she instructed them maternally and with an inscrutable nod, the two spiders climbed back up on their thin, silk rope. Clarissa resumed her gait but this time, her strides were more quick and brisk. She had to get to Michael before that Death Dealer abducted him or worse, killed him. She had never failed the Master once and she didn't intend to start today. Besides, her failure would reflect badly on Master and his alliance with Lucian.

The hairs on the back of the succubus's neck stood up and her body quivered with anticipation for the impending battle. Clarissa licked her lips, oh how she could sense the tension in the air, churning her blood around eagerly for a little brawl. She had briefly heard of the prowess of the infamous Death Dealers and she, along with the rest of her peers, longed to test her skill on one of them.

_Looks like I'll finally get my chance. _

"Why are they after you?!"

The thundering demand of a female echoed in Clarissa's ears and she simpered, keeping her steps light and silent as she crept towards the door. She felt Ambika stirring nearby, the giant tarantula impatient to assault her next prey.

"Go, Ambika," she whispered, "The Death Dealer is yours."

* * *

"Why are they after you?" hollered the mysterious woman at him, her damp, dark hair framing her face like an inky, ominous curtain. Lightening flashed forebodingly at her words, reflecting eerily off her unnaturally pale visage. Never had Michael ever seen someone so white before, it was as if sun had never touched her skin.

All these thoughts swarming in his head, Michael tried to open his mouth to speak, to explain he hadn't the foggiest idea what she meant, and hopefully get this situation all under control. He couldn't call the police, his co-worker just told him over the answering machine that they were after him for the shot-out on the subway. _Come to think of it, I think I've saw her before…at the subway station. _

Ere he could do or fathom anything else, an enormous, obscure shape loomed in his doorway and his eyes widen considerably at what was lingering near his door. His baffled expression must have alerted the hostile woman for she whirled around what alarmed him so. As soon as her head snapped around, the gigantic figure lunged at her, knocking Michael out of her grasp. Glancing back, Michael froze in shock for moment to witness the woman wrestling with a monstrous spider. The tarantula looked like it just crawled out a horror film: hairy, thick legs, several beady eyes, and razor-sharp talons that were probably coated with lethal venom. Having no desire to become spider fodder, he darted out of his room, determined to get the hell out of the apartment and—

"Michael Corvin?"

The lyrical, dulcet voice shattered his terror, causing his insides to go numb and weak with its delicate, velveteen cadence. Rotating his body fully around, Michael was faced with the most beautiful woman on earth, standing right before his confound eyes. Long, silken waves of shimmering brown flowed from her heart-shaped countenance, resting neatly around her sensuous hips. A long, provocative dress with a color that could rival snow clad her voluptuous physique and just staring at her Michael felt himself harden and already his mouth was dry.

"_Yes_?" he rasped out, his mind foggy and in a daze she approached him salaciously, her hips swinging about hypnotically.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, _darling_," she drawled out with a sigh, her full, coral-pink lips forming a cute pout as she wrapped one arm around his head, fingers playfully dancing on the nape of his neck, "I'm so glad I found you. I need you to come with me, it's very important."

"Why?" he murmured drowsily even those his legs, having a mind of their own, were already moving forward and happily being lead by this arcane yet enchanting lady who could win hearts every man in the world with simple, wanton smile. She tilted her head back at him, peering up at him through her eyelashes. That was enough to nearly produce the American doctor to a pile of human putty.

"It's a secret," she replied mischievously, winking coyly at him, "But since you're being such a good boy, I'll grant you a reward." He didn't have the time to ask what she meant by a 'reward' for in an instant she framed his face with her hands and ardently covered his mouth with hers, slipping her tongue in so he could fully experience the delicious nectar she had to offer. Mere seconds ticked by but to Michael, the molten kiss lasted hours. He was drowning in a whirlpool of pure bliss and fervency, he couldn't get enough of the passion brewing between them. Much to his dismay, she withdrew from the searing kiss and led him away again.

"There's more where that came from," she purred, her golden eyes twinkling with sexual promise. Michael's throat tightened, when did he become so amorous all of a sudden?

Series of gunshots reverberated into the night and to the surprise of them both, a slender, black form back-flipped in front of them, blocking their path. Dread pooled inside Michael's stomach, it was the same woman who broke into his room. _How in hell did she get pass that tarantula?_ The stranger lifted her gun up at the seductive female and a violent urge to protect her from any bullets surged through Michael's very being, ensnaring his mind and poising his body for any action.

Yet his companion seemed unconcerned that gun was being pointed directly at her face. Tossing her head back, a jovial yet sinister laugh escaped her mouth and she brought Michael closer to her so he wouldn't be out of her sight.

"Ah, one of Viktor's precious Death Dealers comes out to play," she stated drolly, curling a lock of his dirty blonde hair around her finger, "Sorry, but you're too late. He belongs to us now." As if to amplify the last sentence, she ran her lips around Michael's exposed neck, sending ripples of frissions down the young medic's spine.

"Who's '_we_'?" snarled the other woman, finger hovering over the trigger. Another mocking giggle answered her and Selene was sorely tempted to shot her now and drag the Michael human out of here. But she had to see if she could pry any information out first… why was this siren working for the lycans, if that's who she meant by 'we'.

Placing a finger to her lips, she replied, "That's for me to know and you to find out." Prior to Selene could pull the trigger and release a shower of bullets onto her unknown foe, spiders of all shapes and sizes rocketed out towards her from all directions, blinding the vampiress briefly.

"Come, we must hurry," Clarissa whispered to Michael, "I don't know how long my dears will hold her off." Michael gapped incredulously at her.

"Your _dears_?"

"Yes," she answered sweetly, honey dripping from her voice, "Those are my pets, little, faithful comrades of mine." Unable to shake off the spell she had placed him under with her unearthly beauty, Michael nonetheless follower her, gun fire blaring in his ears.

One bullet struck Clarissa in the shoulder and warm blood trickled down her arm, just missing her pristine dress by a fraction of an inch. Scowling, Clarissa spat out to her spiders, "Eat the bitch!" before bringing the frightened American doctor to a sleek, suave Mercedes that was blacker than any starless night.

"What are you?" he finally asked her as she opened to door to him and nudged him inside. He could barely move, he felt so discombobulated and perplexed that he vaguely could recall how he first wound up with this alluring lady.

Sending him another playfully wink, Clarissa responded, "Why, darling, I'm a succubus. Ever heard of us before?"

Just then, Michael's world went pitch-black.

* * *

Grinding her teeth in frustration and sheer rage, Selene raced after the seductive female and Michael Corvin, firing at the remaining spiders who dared to follow her and try to make a meal out her. She saw him get into a car and quickened her sprint, fiercely resolve to prevent that car from leaving the vicinity. Grabbing her other pistol, she sent volleys of silver bullets at the car, denting its smooth coating and windshield. Abruptly, an equally vicious round of ultra violet bullets were delivered right back at her, tripping the adamant, hell-bent Death Dealer up a bit yet she pressed on, mercilessly shooting at her adversaries in the Mercedes, which was rapidly driving away, out her sight and range.

A string of curses exploded from Selene and just to ebb some of the ire off her, she clamped her boot down the last spider inching towards her. The splat sound of its demise offered some level of grim joy as she placed her guns back into its holsters, briskly walking back to her car.

She had to find Michael Corvin some other way, she had to learn where that spider-summoning demon was taking him and if she worked with the lycans or not.

_But I can't do this alone, I'm going to need some help and back up for precautions._

"Kahn," she murmured, eyes alight at this immediate epiphany, "I'll get Kahn."

* * *

"Why must you always insist of me meeting you this late? Really, Zael, some of us aren't nocturnal like you!"

The said female uttered nothing but smirked slightly as she raised a cup of coffee to her lips, icy blue eyes glittering with everything and nothing in between. "And yet, you always have impeccably managed to be fashionably late, Bristol."

Her companion, Bristol, scowled darkly before taking a seat across from Zael, setting her bag down on the table. "A witch is never late, Zael. Nor is she early. She arrives precisely when she means to."

Zael rolled her eyes, setting the porcelain cup down. "I always found it rather irksome when you quote lines from movies." Bristol's scowl was swiftly replaced with an impish smile.

"I couldn't resist, Zael. Really I couldn't." Her friend waved her hand away in dismissal.

"Whatever. So, are you sure of everything you told me over the phone? Is that all you Saw?"

Bristol nodded vigorously, her jocose demeanor fading into a more serious, professional one. "I'm positive. The future is looking up for us, Zael, and if we play our cards right, we both can achieve what we desired for so long."

Wordlessly, Zael tossed a dossier at Bristol, who caught the tan folder with ease. Even though her friend's face was blasé, there was no mistaking the eager glint in her wintry azure eyes. "I want you to scry for her, Bristol," began Zael impassionedly, "I have no doubt in my mind she'll help us." Bobbing her head in response, Bristol glanced down at the file of the person she was going to searching for with her magic.

"Catherine Elizabeth Van Helsing," she murmured, memorizing the image of the young woman in the picture, "Has two kids, is currently married to Edward Orenstein—wow, _he_ changed _his_ name instead? That's a novelty."

"Bristol." The clear, glacial tone of her partner's tone snapped the vivacious witch back in gear. "Focus."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, what's so crucial about this Catherine lady? Does she know Viktor or something?"

"And _Lucian_," Zael added casually, sipping again from her coffee cup, "Find her and we find Lucian. Understand?"

Her grin widening, Bristol nodded and slipped the dossier into her bag, nerves tingling with excitement and anticipation. "So while I go off to find Mrs. Catherine, what will you do in the mean time?"

A dark, conniving look fell upon Zael's light features, manipulative orbs wavering from cloudy cerulean to electric blue in a matter of seconds. "I'll be paying Viktor's coven a little visit. You know, to see the groundwork of the area and how everyone is holding up."

Bristol smirked at the meaning of Zael's words. "Say hi to Markus for me."

The blonde exchanged the brunette witch a black grin, the devious glow never leaving her arctic eyes as she spoke. "Don't worry, I will."

* * *

"_The future doesn't pass  
And the past won't overtake the present  
All that remains is an obsolete illusion._

_We are afraid of all the things that could not be  
A phantom agony."_

_**-The Phantom Agony, **_Epica

* * *

**Color Glossary: **

Burnet- dark brown

Niveous- snowy white

At last, I have finished yet another chapter of _**Ace In the Hole**_!

Clarissa: A rather nice one, I may add. You got that Michael guy going all lovey-dovey on me. Then again, no man can resist me.

Right… Okay, I know some of you are thinking, "What is this? Why didn't Selene totally school Clarissa's ass?!" Number one, Clarissa is a succubus and since Selene has only been trained to battle lycans for most of her immortal life, facing a strong succubus like Clarissa caught her off guard and let's face it, battling and wrestling with gigantic and little spiders isn't a walk in a the park. Yet I'll admit when it all comes down to it, Selene could take Clarissa down to the ground so no arguments there.

Clarissa: -snorts- We'll see about that.

Furthermore, I would like to note that after some collaboration with my good friend **Celtic Aurora**, my story is officially a sister fic/sequel to her Underworld story, _**Dark Ripples in Blood**__._ My character Edward derives from that story as well so more of his past and why he's helping to aid Lucian will be explained in her story. But in a few chapters (I'm just not sure when) you'll learn a little more of Edward and Catherine's ties with Viktor and certain dastard vampire whose name means 'coward' in old English…

Clarissa: You mean Kraven?

Well, I was trying to be subtle but yes, that is who I meant. Ere I depart, I would like to graciously thank: Celtic Aurora, vamplady101, keili77, Crystalyna du Starrvan, and Vesper chan! Thank you all for reading and reviewing, it really makes my day!

Clarissa: And to wrap this little, trivial author's note up, review, critic, fave, ect but flamers will sent to Jacob. I heard that bloke is looking for a new toy…

Can't say I'm at all stunned. Readers, I bid you all adieu!

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


	4. IV: Old and New Faces Meet

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**IV:** _Old and New Faces Meet_

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"I Wake And Feel the Fall of Dark" byGerard Manley Hopkins

"A Ballad of Past Meridian" byGeorge Meredith

"Zydrate Anatomy" by Repo! The Genetic Opera soundtrack

**Disclaimer: I think it's quite obvious that Underworld is not a property of my own. Oh, but I did…hehe, Lucian better watch out. Oh, and Viktor and Kraven would be subjected to severe torturing methods. Nuff said. **

**Oh, and I don't own the song "Zydrate Anatomy" from Repo! The Genetic Opera. My Lord is that song addicting… Thirdly, Catherine, Cordelia, and Michael Van Helsing don't belong to me—Celtic Aurora has so kindly let me borrow them for this story. **

* * *

"_I wake and feel the dell of dark, not day. _

_What hours, O what black hours we have spent_

_This night! what sights you, hear, saw; ways you went!_

_And more must, in yet longer light's delay._

_With witness I speak this. But where I say_

_Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament_

_Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent _

_To dearest him that lives alas! away."_

_**-I Wake And Feel the Fall of Dark, **_Gerard Manley Hopkins

* * *

As night overtook the sky, covering the land with foreboding darkness and an unprecedented mystique, a certain hush fell over the area as Bristol maundered her way through the paved sidewalk. She drew her hood up, shielding half of her face from the sprinkle of icy rain drops. Just the dreary weather alone made Bristol severely wished that this Catherine woman lived in the Bahamas or Sicily, where there was plenty of sun.

_Ah, but since when I'm ever lucky? I'm cursed therefore, no luck for me. _

As if on cue, the raining intensified and soon enough, Bristol found herself caught in a paroxysmal, truculent storm, thunder booming all around her as she struggled onward. Even though she was never unnerved by thunderstorms, Bristol always discovered that little song never failed to lift her spirits every now at then. Especially one that derived from a favorite movie of hers.

"_Zydrate comes in a little glass vial! (A little glass vial? A little glass vial). And little glass vial goes into the gun like battery," _she sang softly against the cantankerous thundering of the tempest, tightening her grip on her bag so the bellowing, icy wing couldn't snatch the bundle right out of her hands, "_And the Zydrate guns goes somewhere against you anatomy. And when the gun goes off, it sparks, and you're ready for surgery, (surgery)."_

As the American witch continued warbling her peculiar tune, she eventually found the correct pathway to the abode she was looking for. After scrying for Catherine Van Helsing's whereabouts, Bristol managed to uncover that the fallen-vampire hybrid had sequestered herself in a remote area near Budapest and currently resided in a comfortable, middle-class home.

Abruptly ending her singing, Bristol used her sorcery to sense the vicinity all around her in case she was being followed (which was highly unlikely but you never know how cunning the enemy could be) but nothing came up. Satisfied, the brunette witch reached out and pressed the doorbell, rewarded with a faint but lucid sonance.

Just a few seconds after she rang, the polished maple door swung wide open, revealing a petite, beautiful young woman with pale skin, star sapphire eyes, and long, wavy shimmering burnet hair that simply cascaded down her shoulders and back like satin waves. She eyed Bristol uncertainly, as if she was afraid of something. Easing an amiable smile on her face, the witch straightened herself up and cordially said, "Greetings. Are you Mrs. Catherine Van Helsing?"

The woman nodded slowly, blue eyes flashing with sudden suspicion. "Yes, I am. What do you want?"

_Might as well get straight down to business. I'm never good beating around the bush anyway._

"I've come to you as a friend, Mrs. Van Helsing. I know you and your husband were at one point living as guests in the coven of a vampire called Viktor."

Catherine's lapis lazuli orbs flashed scarlet upon the mentioning of Viktor and her face twisted up in total, unadulterated contempt. Her grip in the door tightened as she narrowed her eyes at Bristol. "Yes, that is true," she finally uttered grimly, "But that still doesn't tell me why you are here or what you want–who are you anyway?"

Holding back a sigh at the rather slow progress she was having, Bristol tilted her head upward to look directly at suspicious hybrid. Just as she did, her hood slid back, revealing more of her face. Catherine's eyes widen and a gasp of shock nearly escaped her. Two purely white, opaque eyes scrutinized the Romanian huntress, unblinking and strangely focused as the resolute witch tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

"My name is Bristol and I'm in league with a person who desires to see Viktor fall from his oh so mighty pedestal."

Catherine snorted at the humor in the young woman's words and relaxed a bit, motioning for the newcomer to come in. "Nice to see someone else who is trying to achieve the same goal," she replied, watching curiously how Bristol strode right into the room with any help of a walking stick at all. Her posture was erect and proud and the way she walked, it seemed that she already knew where she was going and what lied before her.

_But how is that possible? She's blind, she can't see at all!_

As if Bristol had read all the perplexing thoughts and questions whirling about in Catherine's mind, she abruptly voiced out, "I use my magic to help navigate me around, to sense where everything is at. Believe me, it's not as easy as it looks."

"Magic?" repeated Catherine, staring in bewilderment as her guest plopped right down a finely furnished coach and stretched her arms out as if she was a cat who had just woken up from a refreshing, long nap. "Are you saying that you are—"

"—a witch? Yep, that's me." Bristol finished with ease, a carefree expression adorning her features. "But don't worry, I'm a white witch and I don't dabble into any of that hocus pocus nonsense."

Prior to Catherine could even ask what she meant by that, a young man supporting unruly blond locks and eyes identical to his mother's strolled right in, his handsome face bright and charming.

"Hey, Mum—" He stopped short when he noticed Bristol almost immediately. She gave him a little jaunty wave of greeting. He looked back at Catherine, a quizzical expression unraveling on his features. "Who is she, Mum?"

Catherine opened up to reply but naturally, the spunky witch beat her to it. "The name is Bristol Blackbourne. Don't worry, I come in peace." She flashed Michael an amused grin before turning her attention back to the Van Helsing huntress. "I don't mean to rush things along, Catherine, but you could you please tell me where Lucian is hiding? I really do need to speak with him."

The fallen-angel hybrid arched a curious eyebrow, cocking her head at Bristol's haste. "And may I ask what the reason is?" After receiving aid from the lycan leader himself, Catherine didn't want to unintentionally betray him by revealing his location to a stranger who could may or may not be the enemy.

"Because my friend wants to join his cause. Hell, so do I!" added Bristol, an impish twinkle flaring up in her light umber orbs as she spoke, "I could never stand servitude or slavery so I'll be delighted to stick my foot right up crotchety Viktor's ass if I get the chance."

Michael burst out laughing at the last sentence, obviously overcome with the mental image of this feisty witch giving the said vampire Elder a good swift kick in the rear. A broad smile broke across Catherine's alabaster features, an amused chuckle escaping her. Just by those words alone and the way Bristol's eyes shone so truly and frankly was more than enough to reassure her that Bristol was on their side, stranger or no.

"I'll give you directions to his lair, Bristol," she later told the witch after the cachinnating had died down, "Follow me."

And she immediately disappeared into the other room with Bristol following her as quickly as she feasibly could.

_Success! Won't Zael be pleased!_

* * *

Lucian never thought in his lifetime he would ever hold Sonja, the love of his life, again until Death personally came to his doorstep and wrenched his soul right out of his body. But here she was, alive and breathing, trapped in his loving enfoldment. He brushed his lips against her bare shoulder, relishing her soft, breathless sigh of delight and kissed the nape of her neck.

"A necromancer has joined your cause, Lucian. Unbelievable. I didn't know they were around."

"Neither did I, to be honest," the said lycan admitted as Sonja turned her head around to face him, "I suppose they kept their existence discreet and under wraps."

"They must have." Sonja furrowed her eyebrows, her mind still whirling with musings on this Thanatos fellow. "But what are his motives for aligning himself to you, Lucian? What does he have to gain should you win? What does he benefit from my father's debacle?"

"I have no idea," he answered truthfully, wishing he knew more of Thanatos's agenda yet that arcane man kept his lips sealed tighter than a dead man, "But for some reason, I believe he bears a grudge against your father."

Sonja snorted. "He's hardly the first. I wouldn't be stunned if everyone does."

"So very true, my love," murmured Lucian huskily, pushing back the straps of Sonja's gown so he could have more access to her creamy white shoulders. Closing her eyes in utter bliss, Sonja arched herself as her lover trailed a stream of butterfly kisses across her shoulders, arms, throat, and chest, the fire of their love and passion being rekindled after all those centuries ago.

"Lucian?"

Hearing the deep, low baritone of Raze, the lycan leader jerked his head up and rose from his chair, Sonja doing the same as she fixed the straps to her gown. "Yes, Raze? Do you have him?"

This time Raze didn't answer but Clarissa instead. Lucian could recognize that mellifluous, seductive voice anywhere. "We sure did, darling Lucian. He's taking a bit of a doze but he should be awake in a few hours."

"_Darling_ Lucian?" hissed Sonja in his ear, just in time for Raze and the succubus to enter the room. "Please tell me she says that to everyone."

"Don't worry, she does," he reassured her, the corner of his mouth quirking up briefly in amusement at Sonja's fleeting pang of jealously, "Clarissa is a succubus so you'll have to get use to her and her…wanton methods." _Although Sonja has nothing to fret over, it's not like I remotely attracted to her any shape or form._

But Lucian knew who was and that was his second-in-command. Raze was eyeing Clarissa so lustfully and openly that Lucian was almost half-afraid he would pounce the voluptuous demon right then and there. Of course, she immediately spotted his transparent ogling and gave him a suggestive wink before whispering:

"If you're free, I'll be available in my room after this." Raze replied with a toothy grin and nodded his head, dusky eyes alight with exuberance. Lucian fought back the urge to roll his eyes, he really didn't need this at the moment.

"Attention, if you please," he cut in, interrupting their little flirtatious moment, "Did you run into any trouble while you were acquiring Michael?"

Another nod from Raze. "Yes, it was a Death Dealer, the woman who ambushed us before in the subway."

"But," added Clarissa clearly, "only I had to reveal myself to her so she probably has no idea that I am working for you."

Her claim did little to placate Lucian's nerves, he doubt they could shake a Death Dealer off their trail that easily. Next time, they had to be more prepared and possibly concoct a diversion to hoodwink the Death Dealer from stumbling across the plans he had been so delicately putting into place for years.

"Thank you for the report. Tell me when Michael awakens and I shall personally see him myself. You two are dismissed."

Raze bowed deeply to Lucian while Clarissa offered him a sensational pout and Sonja returned the entreating gesture with a stern glare. Tinkling laughter bubbled out of Clarissa and she merely grinned sweetly at the feisty vampiress.

"Have fun with him, honey," the burnet-haired succubus replied amusingly before she linked arms with Raze and sauntered out of the chambers. Shaking his head, Lucian turned back to Sonja, who wore a slightly softer expression once she realized that Clarissa wasn't going to be pursuing her lover.

"Looks like I'm going have to face the Death Dealers sooner or later," Lucian told Sonja as he sat back down on the leather loveseat, "I have Michael but I cannot afford to let the coven know what I'm up to. Hopefully, Kraven can actually do something right for a change and divert their focus to somewhere else."

"I can help you think of a plan, Lucian," said Sonja, her onyx eyes warming over as she stared contently at the dedicated, resolved man sitting before her, "I want you to win this war as much as you do. Our child must live in a world where both races are accepted." The mentioning of their unborn baby brought a half-smile to the lycan's lips. He reached out and rested his hand against her belly, already sensing the first stirrings of life in Sonja's womb.

If he played his cards right, he and Sonja would have a beautiful future together with their new baby boy or girl. And no one, not even Viktor himself, will tear that image away from him _ever _again.

* * *

"Selene! What happened?!"

Those were the very words exploded out the mouth of Kahn, the coven's weapon specialist. Selene was hoping he would know anything about the strange, alluring lady she saw swipe Michael away from her grasp.

"I was ambushed," she explained succinctly, "and _not_ by lycans."

Kahn's dark eyebrows knitted themselves together, evidently perturbed via her answer. "Do you know who your assailer was or at least their race?" he questioned, handing her another round of silver bullets for the next time she went out on a mission. Selene shook her head.

"No…but she seemed to have control over spiders and was unnaturally striking, too beautiful to be human."

"That's disconcerting," replied Kahn staidly, his swarthy visage wracked with heavy contemplation, "I, for one, am drawing a blank. I never heard of any vampires wielding spiders as a primary weapon so she might be a new species altogether. And there's only one person who can accurately find your new foe, Selene."

Biting back a groan, Selene felt her face hardened at his implication. "Yes, I know. _Tanis_." she uttered darkly. She could never forgive that lecherous scribe and librarian for accusing Lord Viktor of such heinous crimes that were obviously fabricated—she hoped that bastard was rotting in that hellhole she sent him to. "Honestly, Kahn, do we really even need his help? I'm sure there is someone else who is just as erudite as Tanis was and could aid—" Kahn started shaking his head ruefully and she broke off, the acidic taste of frustration and helplessness forming in her mouth.

"You know as much as I that no one could ever replace Tanis for his knowledge. You need to go to him and find out what he knows about this mysterious woman. If there is more of her kind out there, we might have another breed of enemies on our hands."

Despite her inner despisal for Tanis brewing truculently in her heart, Selene fathomed deep down that Kahn was right and like it or not, she had to visit Tanis for assistance.

_I much rather face that horde of spiders once more than met that insufferable lummox face-to-face. _

But her moody reverie was cut short for Kraven's demanding tone sliced through the air, bellowing about like he was ruler of the coven. Just then, Selene decided taking a trip to see Tanis wasn't such a horrible idea after all.

* * *

A pair of boots landed gracefully and noiselessly against the roof tiles and the lithe figure crouched down so the shimmering, luminous moon wouldn't reveal her location to the vicious guard dogs or any vampires scouting the perimeter down below. Once she was satisfied that the coast was clear, Zael adroitly climbed down the roof and combed her way through all the gothic architecture framing the illustrious estate, making sure she didn't trip up any alarms in the process.

Finally, when she neared the first floor, she pulled out a pocket knife from her boot and landed next to a partly opened window. Taking a whiff of the air inside, her olfactory concluded no one was in the room and she could enter undetected. Using the dagger to push the window in, Zael furtively slipped into the room and slipped the blade back into her boot, only to go to her coat pocket and retrieve a small vial.

Inside was a thick, cerise and murrey colored liquid–one of Bristol's many positions. This one would grant Zael the ability to take the appearance of anyone she wished. Prior any vampire could walk in on her, the blonde woman quickly unscrewed the lid and gulped down the concoction in a matter of seconds. As soon the last drop was drunk, the transformation betided immediately.

Zael's flaxen tresses flared out and became a vibrant auburn while her skin paled until it was the color of milk. Her wintry lapis lazuli orbs turned into a muddy evergreen hue and her face was altered to give her features a more delicate, slender structure while her body grew a few extra inches, making her taller than she was before. Glancing into the mirror, Zael examined her new form and took a few minutes to adjust to the longer height. She was probably just as tall as Bristol now.

"Time to get down to business now," she murmured softly to herself and exited the room, strolling down the halls like any confident, cocky vampire in the coven.

* * *

After receiving Lucian's summons about an hour or so ago, Kraven found himself standing in front of the aforementioned lycan's liar, rapping soundly at the steel door so he could be heard. Soren and the rest of his entourage stood stoically right behind him, waiting for them to be ushered in. Finally, the door open yet instead of encountering the wild face of a werewolf, Kraven was beset with the sight of an alarmingly gorgeous woman with cascading sable curls and chocolate brown eyes. For a moment, he completely forgot about his concupiscence for Selene.

"Ah, you must be Kraven," purred out the Spanish-looking woman, beckoning the vampires in by crooking her finger at them, "Lucian failed to mention how handsome you are!"

Kraven couldn't resist gifting her a winsome smile. He always had a thing for dark-haired woman–there was Selene, Catherine, and now this enchanting beauty guiding him and his fellow men along. Although there were a few female werewolves here and there that Kraven knew Lucian had, he reckoned this woman who was swinging her hips in such an inviting fashion was no lycan. And she didn't appear to be a mortal or a vampire either.

_Who else is Lucian aligning himself with?_

"What's your name?" he inquired, craving to know more about this mysterious woman.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she replied friskily, dark pupils shining with mocking laughter, "But I'll humor you just this once. I'm Blanca."

Just when Kraven was about immerse into charming mode, an older man with matching umber eyes and pepper-speckled hair came out of nowhere and wrapped his arms around Blanca, claiming her lips in an aggressive, almost ferocious manner. A tic started in Kraven's jaw when he witnessed this. Why did all the stunning ones have to be either taken or ignore his advances? The concept was downright infuriating!

After the couple finished their heavy, passionate kiss, the older man refocused his attention to Kraven, a sadistic sneer slithering across his tanned countenance. Again, a stab of indignation and envy surged through the lewd reagent's body. _This man isn't even good-looking, how did he end up with her?!_

"Kraven, isn't it?" voiced out the man, his tone humorous and slightly taunting. Kraven said nothing at all. He just nodded and continued to glare at the offensive male. The black-haired man chuckled, as if he knew what was going on in Kraven's brain. "I see you already met my mate, Blanca. Tasty little baggage, isn't she? I noticed she got you all hot and bothered but unfortunately, you're out of luck–unless you enjoy pain."

"What?" sputtered Kraven, now completely puzzled by his meaning. The man simply tossed back his head and laughed manically, his eyes bright with malice and the sadistic grin never left his lips.

"Jacob, Blanca, quit fooling around and just escort our bloody guests in!" groused out a third voice and the speaker stepped out of the shadows, a thoroughly irked expression etched on his smooth, alabaster visage.

As soon as the newcomer came into Kraven's view, the vampire blanched instantly and for a minute, he thought he was hallucinating and this wasn't the very same hybrid he sent himself out to ruin countless of centuries ago.

"_You_!" he spat, unable to control all the rage and loathing he had harbored for the man standing right before, "What are you doing here?!"

Upon hearing Kraven, Edward snapped his head around, his once coal-like eyes now blazing with a frightening, infernal orange. A snarl escaped the demon-vampire hybrid and his fangs and claws elongated themselves at an astronomical rate.

"Hello, _Kraven_," Edward hissed, his smooth voice deepening and becoming more demonic, "Nice to see you again."

With that said, he lunged forward, a furious holler erupting from his throat and the tortured caverns of his lonely heart. Kraven felt Edward's hands clamp down around his neck and knew with utmost certainty that this crazy, demented hybrid was seriously going to slaughter him until there was nothing left of him.

* * *

"_Last night returning from my twilight walk_

_I met the grey mist Death, whose eyeless brow_

_Was bent on me, and from his hand of chalk_

_He reached me flowers as from a withered bough._

_O Death, what bitter nosegays givest thou!_

_Death said, 'I gather' and pursued this way._

_Another stood by me, a shape in stone,_

_Sword-hacked and iron-stained, with breast of clay, _

_And metal veins that sometimes fiery shone._

_O Life, how naked and how hard when known!"_

_**-A Ballad of Past Meridian**_**, **George Meredith

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Burnet- dark brown

Umber- brown

Murrey- a blackish purple

Hey guys, sorry for my absence! I was busy wrapping up one story that was only four chapters away from being done and I wanted that to get finished so I could focus more on this story and _**Wild Justice**_. Now I updated, you all can celebrate. Go on now, don't be shy.

This was some chapter, wasn't it? I couldn't resist in making Bristol sing a song, she just seems like the type who would spontaneously do that sort of thing. And now we finally met Catherine and Michael! Those who are reading _**Dark Ripples In Blood**_, the prequel to this fanfic, will understand her significance. If you haven't yet, you better hightail yourself over to Celtic Aurora's page and read the prequel! You'll get to know Catherine and Edward a lot more.

And yes, I finally reveal who Clarissa will be shagging up with: Raze. I know some of you were almost expecting her to side up with a vampire (she does seem like the type do so) but she is bundle full of surprises. She does that to me plenty of times….

Hehe, Tanis is coming to town! Let's see what I have in store for Selene… Mwuahahahaha!

Of course, Zael's goal is still hidden yet if you recall what Bristol said to her in the last chapter, you'll probably get a good idea what she's up to.

Thank you to: Celtic Aurora, fugaziclash, keili77, vamplady101, Explodium, xPrincetonx, and Furionknight. I always love hearing from you guys!

Ah, I am positively excited for the next chapter, so much more is going betide. Well, you all know the drill. Review, fav, alert, critique, etc but flamers will be served to Jacob and Blanca, who are looking for some new souls to torture. Of course, the lesser flamers will be stuck with Kraven and his endless boasts about his nonexistent valor.

Until next chapter, I bid you all adieu! (And don't forget to read Celtic Aurora's _**Dark Ripples In Blood**_!)

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


	5. V: Positioning the Chess Pieces

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**V:** _Positioning the Chess Pieces _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Beware" by Xandria

"The Days of the Phoenix" by AFI

**A/N: **For those who are reading the prequel to this fanfic, Celtic Aurora's _**Dark Ripples in Blood**_, there will be some hints/spoilers in what betided between Kraven, Catherine, and Edward while they had been staying in the Ordoghaz coven. Just wanted to give you all a heads-up.

**Disclaimer: Like that will ever change. I don't own, you don't sue. Savvy?**

* * *

"_No, you don't take me as I am  
No, you don't want to know at all  
Who is the face behind the mask  
I'll be the one who'll make you fall._

_Beware! Beware! I'll be the one  
The one to take you under  
Beware!_

_I hate the light of day  
I'm happy when it rains  
The stars shine on my way  
But the memory remains._

_No, you don't take me as I am..._

_Beware! Beware! I'll be the one_

_The one to take you under  
Beware!_

_I am the night's revenge  
I've got a soul to sell  
And yet a fist to clench  
So wait for me in hell."_

-_**Beware**_, Xandria

* * *

A lone ivory finger trailed along the smooth, worn leather bindings, a deep devotion for the written word hidden in this simple action. Thanatos scanned his private collection of books, he never wanted to be parted from his precious stash–especially the novels he had since childhood. They were all he had left of his previous life, all that was worth cherishing. Everything else was scars…and violent, gut-wrenching memories. And Thanatos didn't like dwelling in the past.

"Thanatos-sama."

The clear-cut tenor of Ukon distracted the brooding necromancer, pulling him away from his troubling recollections. Tilting his head around, Thanatos fastened his smoky viridian eyes on his most loyal and dedicated follower.

"What is it, Ukon?" he inquired, striding away from his bookcase, "Is something amiss?"

The master swordsman and assassin nodded, his pallid visage betraying nothing. "Edward attacked Kraven and is proceeding to throttle the life out of him. I didn't want to intervene because I wasn't certain of your view on the matter or if you even wanted Kraven to live."

With a sigh, Thanatos exited the room, Ukon trailing right behind him like any true bodyguard would. "Thank you for informing me, Ukon. Much as I despise that revolting bag of slim, I'm afraid I must stop Edward from murdering Lucian's vampiric ally." Although, a shadow of a smile, a devious one, flickered on his ivory features as he spoke.

"However, once we have no use for him…I'm sure I could allow Edward to finish him off for us." The necromancer added before he and Ukon descended into the main lobby of the lycans' lair. There he beheld both Kraven and Edward on the ground, the vampire-demon hybrid on top of the reagent, white hands constricting Kraven's throat. During all of this, Edward was hollering on and on about his wife and children.

"—you disgusting prig! You could have sent my wife and Michael to slaughter! Two innocent lives–just save your own skin!" Edward snarled, slamming Kraven's head against the stone floor and the vampire cried out in pain, viciously clawing at Edward's arms but with no avail. His grip was tight as Death itself. "And because of you, I never got to see my unborn child! I don't know if the infant lives or not! You, Kraven, robbed me of my family, my life, everything!" The enraged hybrid's onyx eyes were ablaze, changing into a hellish orange hue. Kraven truly thought he was staring into the fires of Hell.

Deciding Edward had enough fun for one day, Thanatos took out his gun and fired upward, letting the crackling resonance startle all the occupants in the foyer. Only the dark-haired hybrid ignored the noise, too consumed by his lust for vengeance to notice Thanatos walk up from behind until he was yanked off of Kraven and the necromancer pried his hands away from Kraven's throat.

"Master!" hissed Edward, orange eyes flaring irately, "What are you doing?!"

Thanatos arched one brow at the demonic vampire, giving him a 'what-does-it-look-like' expression. "I should be asking the same question of you, Edward. Attacking one of our alleged allies, especially Lucian's, won't shine favorably on you or me. Next time, do try to restrain yourself."

Edward opened his mouth, about to demur but the warning glint in his master's eyes halted his protest instantly. Shutting his lips tightly, he settled for a lethal glare, his rage rolling off him in waves. Thanatos took a quick glance behind him. Kraven was still coughing and massaging his neck, not even making an attempt to collect his bearings and stand up.

Seizing the opportunity, Thanatos leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, Edward, I still remember everything you told me about this worm. Keep an eye on him; I reckon he'll betray us and Lucian the moment he realizes his life is in peril. And if he does…" The arcane necromancer trailed off, a dark smirk slithering across his lips. The fiery hue in Edward's orbs faded back to nigrine and an identical fleer was on his face.

"I shall dispose of him properly, should the event arrive," he murmured with delight, his lips curling upward to reveal his pointy, lethal fangs.

"Excellent, I know I can count on you to do just that. Till then, watch him like a hawk," instructed Thanatos and Edward nodded, quitting the foyer with Ukon, Jacob, and Blanca. Besides Thanatos, only Kraven's entourage remained in the room, the shock wearing off the stunned vampires when Kraven finally managed to stand on his own two feet.

"Quite a welcoming you had."

Kraven's head jerked up, hard obsidian eyes boring suspiciously at Thanatos and he dusted off the dirt from his crisp, new black pants. "Who are you? I've never seen you around here before." Kraven queried rudely, lips curved up into a deigning sneer. Resisting the urge to slip his saber into Kraven's ribs for his haughty manner, Thanatos willed a nonchalant mask on his countenance.

"Like you, I am an ally of Lucian. My name is of no consequence to you, Kraven." Thanatos responded smoothly, observing the reagent akin to a serpent watching its next meal.

"How do you know my name?!" demanded the lewd vampire, ire flashing across his rather handsome, alabaster features.

"Oh, a little birdie told me," was the answer. A complacent, eat-shit grin found its way on the necromancer's lips and Thanatos crossed his arms, giving him the appearance that he had better tasks to do that stand around and chit-chat with Kraven. "Now, as much as this conversation thrills me, I, unlike some people, have many duties that require my full attention. So, please, Kraven, go and try to make yourself useful…for once."

With that disparaging repartee sinking into Kraven's wounded pride, Thanatos exited the foyer, leaving Lucian and his men to handle the baffled and agitated vampires. After all, there were more pressing matters at hand and he needed to address them–pronto.

_Let the chess match begin. So far, my side is winning. _

* * *

To Zael, the process of gaining access to the Elders' tombs was far too easy, she had thought she would had have to knock out the guard in order to replace his position. But no, a few words of telling him that his shift was over was simply all the vampire needed in order to leave the room.

After thoroughly scanning the vicinity, Zael concluded she was alone and free to roam around the tombs. As the glass doors slid open, she furtively slipped into the chilly chambers, walking around the sealed vaults of Amelia and Viktor before stopping at Markus's.

"Hello there, Markus," she murmured, grasping the ornate insignia and fiercely yanking the heavy, embellished sarcophagus up. When the tomb reached a certain height, she then shifted the coffin around so it would be laying face-up. Thanks to the mechanisms littered inside the tomb, Zael was able to haul Markus along and set his sarcophagus behind some old, musty curtains behind the throne. Carefully, the female opened the coffin's lid and was granted the sight of a shrunken, shriveled body. Glancing down at her watch, Zael deduced she still had several more hours before Bristol's potion wore off and her original identity would reappear.

"Better get to work then," she said to herself, taking out a piece of paper and another vial from her coat pocket. Unscrewing the lid, she poured the murky brown liquid down the sleeping Markus's gaping mouth. Once the tiny container was empty, Zael unfolded the worn, archaic paper and softly recited the mystical spell she had received from Bristol beforehand.

"_Forces of the beyond, powers unseen,_

_I call to thee with a solemn request._

_Bind this man's soul to me,_

_Make him mine, let him be possessed. _

_My will becomes his will,_

_For I shall be the lord_

_And he, the servant."_

As she chanted, she brought out the pocket knife from her boot and pricked her thumb, letting a small, thin river of blood to trickle out. Dangling her bleeding appendage over Markus, she squeezed until tiny garnet droplets fell into the open mouth.

"_By these powers, make me his ward,_

_Keep him bounded to me,_

_My blood becomes his blood,_

_Have him heed my every decree,_

_Until I have him released."_

When the last word left her lips, there was a flash, and abruptly, Zael felt warm all over. Glancing down, she witnessed two glittering silver threads wrapped around her wrists and when she directed her scrutiny onward, Zael realized the same glowing strings were attached to Markus's forearms as well. There was another thread, a cinnabar one, connecting both Zael's and the vampire Elder's hearts together. The carmine strand blazed and crackled with life, possessing most of the power in the binding spell. More scintillating yarns appeared, wrapping themselves around the two figures, tying Markus's soul to Zael's. After a few more minutes, the spiritual strings evanesced, leaving not a trace behind. Soon, it was simply Zael standing over Markus's coffin, the scene looking exactly same right before the incantation was recited.

A very faint smile twisted itself on Zael's lips and she mockingly dragged a finger across Markus's icy, dark cheek. Her wintry azuline eyes sparked with wild delight as she gazed down at the slumbering Elder, loving how vulnerable he was to her right now.

"And now, Markus," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "you belong to me."

* * *

Exile wasn't so awful as everyone allegedly believe. In fact, Tanis managed to flourish rather well in his humble conditions yet most of the success was due to Lucian's generosity. When he had supplied with the lycan leader enough information of weapons to kill his own kind and helped him retrieve the ultra violet bullets, Lucian rewarded Tanis by sending him more comfortable and luxurious accommodations. In retrospect, Lucian treated him far better than Viktor ever did.

The irony regaled Tanis greatly.

Of course, his tranquil lifestyle was soon shattered when Selene, the very person who delivered his sentence of exile, came storming right into his abode, her pale, beautiful face dead set with resolve.

"Tanis!" she barked, pinning the said scribe with her stern, uncompromising glare, "Get up, I'm in the dire need of your expertise."

Rolling his eyes, Tanis bit back the urge to smirk at her attempt to act intimidating and authoritative around him. He would never tell Selene but he found her amusing and rather cute when she did all that. However, unlike Kraven, he was intelligent enough to show interest in Selene was one sure way in getting a swift, detrimental cuff in the face–or in another equally painful region.

"Manners, Selene," he drawled out, getting up from his chair, "How I am suppose to help you if you treat me in such a vile way?"

"Don't patronize me, Tanis," spat Selene, freezing azure eyes flashing menacingly up at him, "I am **not** in the mood."

"You're never in the mood for anything," he retorted, ambling over to her with a frisky grin on his face. "Now, what could you possibly need me for? As I recall, the coven banished me to this dismal place and clearly has no need of my skills."

"Tanis," Selene intoned darkly, resisting the urge to take out her gun and shot him in the foot, "Listen to me–_immediately._ I don't have time for your childish games."

"I wouldn't call them 'childish', Selene," Tanis riposted smoothly, straightening his pristine charcoal robes, "You just don't have a sense of humor or know how to have fun." He then noticed the said Death Dealer reach back for her gun, a warning marked on her alabaster features as she glowered intensely at the exiled scribe. By these actions alone, Tanis reckoned if he didn't act soon he would be nursing a fairly agonizing injury on the floor.

Clearing his throat, he hastily added, "But anyway, what can I do for you?" Selene dropped her hand and moved it away from her holster.

"During one of my hunts, I came across a peculiar woman. She wasn't a human, vampire, or lycan. Kahn and I have reason to believe she was a different race altogether, one we never faced before." she explained, watching Tanis head towards his enormous bookcase and scan his leather-bounded tomes, running a finger down each spine.

"What did she look like?" he inquired methodically, his tone becoming more professional and business-like. "Hideous, gorgeous, or in the middle? Green, blue hair? Scaly skin?"

"She was definitely beautiful, unearthly so," Selene began, taking small steps towards Tanis, suddenly curious in what he could possibly have stored in all those grand shelves, "She had dark brown hair…although I couldn't get a sufficient enough look at her eyes yet they weren't your average color. Maybe yellow or gold."

"Go on," urged Tanis, pulling down several books and slamming them on the wooden table, "What else about her?" He started flipping through the top book of the stack, eyes glued to the pages.

"She could summon spiders," the female Death Dealer added quickly, vividly remembering the horde of those nasty creatures assailing her, "Any shape, size, and type." She glanced back at Tanis, noticing he had stopped leafing through the thick, heavy tome and was reading the section before him intently. She peered over his shoulder, trying to read the small print.

"Did you find something?" she asked softly and his head jolted up at her question.

"Do I get a reduction on my sentence since I'm helping you?" he responded, his lips forming a crooked smile. Selene's reply was a vicious smack to his head. Tanis winced, doing his utmost best to ignore the fiery pain shooting from the back of his skull. "All right, all right, don't give me any merit. I was just wondering, that's all."

"Tanis," Selene sighed exasperatedly, almost at the end of her rope, "What did you find?"

He nodded, moving over so she could have a better look at the two pages he had displayed. "What you came across was a succubus. A female demon who has the power to seduce men with her unnatural, incomparable beauty and charm. Originally, they were believed to only allure their victims while they slept but that theory soon turned out to be nothing more than a myth.

"The male equivalent of a succubus is called an incubus. They are just as deadly, charming, and good-looking as succubi." Tanis explained as Selene studied the detailed, rich drawings of an incubus and a succubus that were off to the side of the text.

"But how can they summon spiders?" she asked, failing to see the connection of why the demonic temptress she encountered earlier had the ability to control arachnids.

"Incubi and succubi are commonly referred to as the demons of lust and love, able to toy with people's hearts. Besides being indestructible in fire (all demons can withstand flames, you know), they have a link to three possible animals that mirror their personalities. The spider: the creature that spins a web around its prey before pouncing; birds of prey, such as hawks, vultures, eagles, etc.: they swoop—" He broke off, seeing Selene's aggravated look that signaled she comprehended the symbolic importance and he didn't need to delve into detail. Averting his eyes away from Selene's, Tanis resumed his speech. "And lastly, there are some incubi and succubi who can summon more…mythical beasts."

"Like what?" queried Selene, pondering what sort of hellish monsters these demons could summon to their side.

"Mostly hellhounds, howlers, and haunts–all nasty dog-like creatures," answered Tanis, flipping over to the next picture, "But lucky for you, a succubus and incubus can only have the power over one of these beasts and you ran into the one with the spiders."

"But why?" Selene realized this had been the first time in awhile since she voiced out any level of curiosity to something new. When she had discovered the ultra violet bullets, she had no interest in where or how the lycans received such devastating weapons. She had thought first once she figured out what the mysterious woman was, she would just care about how to kill her and be done with it. But now, she was being pulled into Tanis's fascinating world of knowledge and books, and all of the troubles inside her mind were temporally washed away.

"There's a long, complex hierarchy of these demons, not to mention several obscure legends and stories that explain why incubi and succubi can only control one out of the three animals. I would hate to bore you with such details and plus, they won't tell you how to kill them." Tanis gave Selene a little sly grin. "That's why you're here, to kill the succubus you fought. Am I correct?"

"Yes, does your tome say how to kill them?" As Selene's eyes roamed over the print, she found Tanis's pointer finger rested neatly underneath the spot she was looking for. Nearly touched and perplexed by his small gesture of assistance, she thanked him softly, about to read the paragraph in how to eliminate them when Tanis interrupted her.

"I could save you the trouble of reading, Selene," he said, looking down at her expectantly as she lifted her gaze up to face him. With her wordless nod of acceptance, he went on. "The basic weakness that most succubi and incubi share is they can die of broken heart. If they were to every fall in love and their target rejected their advances, or more precisely, their love, the succubus or incubus would slowly waste away, dying eventually. They are meant to please and gratify; the rejection of love, a force so foreign and powerful to them has a disastrous effect on them. That's why they take extra measures to not fall in love."

"Are there any other weaknesses that I should know of?"

"Yes," stated Tanis, directing her attention back to the tome, "The lesser, weaker succubi and incubi can also die of dismemberment. Don't attempt that method with the stronger ones, they'll butcher you in a flash."

"How can I tell the stronger ones from the weaklings?" Selene questioned imperiously.

"Simple. The lesser succubi and incubi will have a hard time controlling their beasts of choice so you won't find them summoning them. Lke their more potent kind, they shall rely on their inhuman strength and speed to defeat any enemies."

"Duly noted," replied Selene, carefully absorbing all the information Tanis was feeding her, "Anything else that I should know, Tanis?"

He nodded once more, saying, "There's a special way to kill the stronger ones. Since they cannot die of a broken heart, a special killing method has been discovered. You must create a venom out of holy water and virgin's blood–or someone who's pure of heart if you cannot require a virgin–and inject or stab the toxin directly into their heart. This will kill them instantly."

"Holy water and virgin's blood?" repeated Selene, an incredulous expression slowly spreading on her visage, "Are you serious?"

"Serious as the plague," answered the lecherous librarian swiftly, "Now you understand why they are so damn hard to kill."

"Evidently so," grumbled Selene, "At least I won't be returning to Kahn empty-handed."

"Indeed." Shutting the tome, Tanis looked back at Selene, a faint, hopeful impression in his dusky grey eyes. "Any chance you could still decrease the years of my sentence? I promise I'll be a good boy."

Even after being shot at over his head and then clubbed with one of his heavy tomes, Tanis still had the gall to smirk afterwards when a fuming Selene huffed and stormed right out of his abode. "That's all right, you think about it, Selene!" he called out, laughter ringing in his voice.

Pushing Selene buttons never been this much fun.

* * *

Bitterness encompassed Erica during her descent into town, resisting the urge to take a cursory glance back at the coven that stood up on the hill, towering over the bustling, unsuspecting village. Kraven had sent her to find a proper evening gown for Selene to wear once she returned from her little mission because he wanted Selene to look her very best when he announced her as his future queen. Erica refused to believe that was the real reason for his impending news but that was all her mind was screaming at her about while she strode down the busy streets of Ordoghaz. Never in her life had Erica felt so belittled, so demeaned when Kraven entrusted this trivial task to her. The job was servants' work, something designed for someone of a lower status than her to act upon. And yet, against her better judgment and wishes, Erica suppressed all her indignant emotions and accepted the humiliating decree, rushing out of the coven before her bottled-up feelings betrayed her.

Erica surveyed all the shops laid out about the roads, ruthlessly searching for prominent, expensive store that specifically carried fancy dresses and gowns. She knew Selene's size by heart so she wouldn't run into snags there. After a five minutes or so of scouring, the blonde vampiress at last espied a mammoth-sized store displaying models of breathtaking, lofty gowns for any female to wear for special occasions.

Sighing in relief, Erica was about to enter the luxurious store when someone collided into her side. With a startled cry, she fell back and would have surely collided against the hard, cold ground if it weren't for a pair of strong, muscular arms shooting out and encircling themselves tightly around her trim waist, halting her descent abruptly.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, miss. I was in a hurry and didn't use my eyes properly to see that you were standing right in front of me."

The man possessed a velvety, suave timbre, the dexterity of his voice was caressing Erica's ears to a point of maximum bliss. Somehow, she was unable to speak, she couldn't find the right words to articulate and unfreeze her tongue. So instead, the vampire merely rotated her head around so she could at least get a better view of her rescuer and maybe, just maybe, manage a quiet 'thank-you'. When her gaze met his, Erica was faced with a beautiful pair of smoky, smoldering viridian eyes. The sight of them instantly took her breath away and for once, Erica mentally thanked Kraven for sending her out on this dress-shopping errand for Selene.

* * *

"_I remember when I was told a story of  
__Crushed velvet, candle wax, and dried up flowers.  
The figure on the bed,  
All dressed up in roses, calling...  
Beckoning to sleep...offering a dream._.

_The words were as mystical as purring animals  
The circle of rage...the ghosts on the stage appeared.  
The time was so tangible I'll never let it go.  
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below_

_No one could see me.__"_

_I fell into yesterday.  
Our dreams seemed not far away.  
I want to, I want to, I want to stay  
I fell into fantasy."_

_**-The Days of the Phoenix**_, AFI

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Nigrine- black

Cinnabar- red

Azuline- blue

Who wants to take a wild guess in who Erica just bumped into? I'll give you three estimations and the first two don't count.

Yes, I have managed to come out with another update before Christmas break ends! Let's say this is an early New Year's gift to you all. Hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter!

And of course, I would like to thank: Celtic Aurora, keili77, and Aelweyn for their wonderful reviews. I appreciate all the thoughts and feedback guys!

Stay tune for chapter six!

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


	6. VI: Nero

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**VI: **_Nero_

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Bring Forth Ye Shadow" by Theatre of Tragedy

"Dead Is The New Alive" by Emilie Autumn

**A/N: **Some of Viktor's flashbacks/memories are taken from Celtic Aurora's fanfic, _**Dark Ripples in Blood. **_I wanted to keep the dialogue the same so yeah...now you know.

**Disclaimer: *does a Tom Huce-as-Mozart laugh* Nope, never got the rights. If Clarissa was real I could use her to get full ownership of Underworld but like that will ever betide. Rora is lending Catherine, Michael, and Cordelia out to me. So only Thanatos, his troupe, Zael, Bristol, and Edward are mine. And the Order of Anarchy–don't touch my badass assassin guild. They don't look too kindly on theft. *grins evilly***

* * *

"_Time is an abyss -  
Profound as a thousand nights;  
I sojourn my haste, I make respites  
For what availeith this eager pace?  
One step more naught to face,  
Save the heirloom fatal kiss._

_I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate,_  
_For lo! my own shall ne'er come to me,_  
_Yet! - Who doth my future narrate?_  
_Dim the lights - I cannot see!_  
_Bring forth ye Shadow! -_  
_With whom danceth thou?"_

_**-Bring Forth Ye Shadow, **_Theatre of Tragedy

* * *

Thanatos found himself facing two unblinking, crystal azure eyes and slowly, brought back the alluring, striking woman to her feet. "Are you all right, miss?" he inquired smoothly, withdrawing his hands from her. The blonde female nodded instantly.

"Yes, I am," she answered, "and thank you for catching my fall. That was very kind of you."

Thanatos shrugged. "It was nothing. I just couldn't stand by and let you crash into the ground now, could I?"

_Kraven would. _

This bitter thought slithered into Erika's mind and from that and all her recollections of Kraven's mistreatment towards her, she wanted to so badly strike back at the lewd reagent. She was beginning to grow weary of pursuing him and perhaps, if he saw her unavailable and in the company of another, highly attractive man, perhaps he'd rethink his motives.

_Now, how should I go about luring this man to go into the store with me…? Ah, of course. I shall use Kraven's jealous tendencies towards Selene as inspiration._

As she formed the little story in her head, she adapted a worried look on her face. "Sir? Is there a man…following me? Or nearby, looking at us?"

Puzzled, Thanatos glanced up and quickly yet thoroughly scanned the bustling throng of people, looking out for any man who was lurking about or would fit the bill of a 'stalker', as many people termed it today. When he found no such person, he shook his head, saying, "No, I don't see anyone shadowing you. Why do you ask?"

Erika, feigning anxiety, bit her lip and in a soft whisper, admitted, "My ex-boyfriend has been following me all over the place and I can't just seem to shake him off. I tried filing for a restraining order but he had some high connections. He's really obsessive and it just frightens me!"

Now, Erika performed her act well but not unlike her, Thanatos had been around for countless of years so he sensed a liar when he saw one. However, he merely gifted her a reassuring smile and played along.

"Would it make you feel better if I accompanied you on your errands, Miss…?"

"Erika," provided the said female vampire, "And yes, I would gratefully appreciate it if you did. Thank you, kind sir. You truly are a gentleman." _Hook, line, and sinker!_

Thanatos let loose a regaled laugh. "Oh, I don't know about that. But please, call me Thanatos."

_Now, Erika, I know what you are–you're one of Victor's fledglings. But I'll humor your clever little ploy and see if you'll be any use to me in this pending chess match… _

* * *

Time was wasting by and Zael knew she had to exit this coven with Markus before the potion wore off entirely or her guise was discovered. Glaring at her cell phone, Zael dialed Bristol's number for the fourth time, agitatedly hoping _this _time the scatterbrain witch would pick up.

_She may be blind but she perfectly capable of answering her damned phone!_

Finally, after a couple of seconds, Bristol's voice leaked through the ear piece of Zael's cell phone. "Hello? Zael?"

"It's about time," growled the said female, "This is the fourth time I called you—where the hell are you?"

"With Catherine and her family. You'll love her, she simply is breath of fresh air," the spunky witch rattled one, paying no heed to her comrade's apparent irritation, "and her children, Michael and Cordelia, are bundle of energy. They'll put a smile on that scowling face of yours, Zael!"

Compressing a growl, Zael pinched the bridge of her nose while wishing she was within an arm's length away from Bristol so she could just throttle her. Even during solemn situations like this one, she still have the audacity to chat about simple or random entities.

_I swear to God she is going to drive me absolutely batty if she keeps this up…_

"That's dandy, Bristol, but I want I really need is for you to use your transporting spell and summon me and Markus to you," Zael grounded out tonelessly, unconsciously pleased how well she managed to reign in her emotions. "I very well can't lug the old bat and his tomb out of the coven myself, it would be tantamount to suicide."

She heard a sigh on the other end. "I know, I know. Sorry for not answering your calls sooner, I was in middle of a conversation with Catherine and didn't even hear my cell. I'll get to the incantation right now."

"Yes, you better—" The line went dead before Zael could even finish her sentence.

Cursing in Hungarian, Zael pocketed her cell away. She was about to turn back to Markus's tomb when a faint din of voices attracted her attention. Her pulse increasingly suddenly, Zael slowly peeked out from the slim fold of the ebony curtain, gifted with the sight of a couple of vampires walking into the observance room and checking the place out.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be on guard duty here?" questioned a dark-skinned vampire, suspicious eyes darting all over the place.

One of the lesser vampires shrugged, replying, "Alec said someone else came to take charge after his shift was over. Some hot red-head, he said."

"But she's not here anymore," remarked the first vampire crisply, narrowing his eyes at the two vampires before scanning the monitors. "And from the cameras, it doesn't show her leaving the vicinity…"

"So that means she's still here," finished the third vampire who hadn't spoken yet till now, "What's wrong with that, Kahn?"

The swarthy vampire called Kahn uttered nothing in response; he simply stepped out of the booth and approached the glass doors, noiselessly entering into the crypt when the doors slid open for him. A gun was in his hand and he held the weapon up, as if expecting an ambush.

Jerking herself away from the curtain, Zael brought out her automatic revolver and planted herself behind Markus's tomb. If Bristol didn't summon her and Markus soon, she would be found out and forced to start a shoot-out between these vampires.

_Come on, Bristol! You should be done by now!_

As if on cue, the blonde female suddenly felt incredibly lighter. When she glanced down, the stoic female noticed that both she and Markus were fading away, practically blending into the background. In a matter of seconds they would vanish and be teleported to Bristol. That is, if this vampire didn't discover her hidden location first.

With one hand, she gripped on the ledge of Markus's sarcophagus, waiting for the uncomfortable, strange sensation of her cells being stripped apart and transported somewhere else to end. It was like crawling into a small hole in a cave, hardly being able to see or breathe. As the back end of the crypt simply materialized away from her view, that last words Zael heard prior she and Markus were thrust into Catherine's living room were this:

"Search Victor's and Markus's tomb! We have to make sure they're safe and secured!"

* * *

"What's the occasion that brings you to this store?"

Erika jerked her head back to Thanatos, who was watching her look at the sizes of the evening gowns. "Oh, I'm just doing a favor for a friend," she lied evasively, "he wants me to—"

"Hold it." The clear-cut, crisp timbre of her new acquaintance halted Erika's feeble excused dead in its tracks. "You're buying a dress for another woman for a 'friend' of yours who just so happens to be male."

"Yes," Erika answered uncertainly, almost unsure in where this discussion was going.

"Why isn't he doing this himself?" questioned Thanatos bluntly, practically aggressively. His eyebrows knit themselves together and displeasure flashed across his ivory features. If Kraven had been here, he would have been reduced to a smoldering pile of ash from Thanatos's killer glare.

"He's, well…busy," Erika finished lamely while wondering the exact same entity. It hadn't occurred to her until now that Kraven could have easily ordered a gown and had the outfit shipped to him in less than a day but evidently, he had better tasks to do. It was ironic in how he was trying to execute everything in his power to have Selene as his queen and yet didn't even want to spend a few precious hours picking out a stunning, fashionable dress for him to ogle her in.

"Is that the excuse he used?" Thanatos replied tonelessly, his smoky emerald eyes darkening ever so slightly, "Clearly, it sounds like he just sent you shopping for his mistress."

"She's not his mistress; she doesn't even care about him!" Erika fired back, although kept her voice down since they were in a public place. "And what's worse, he's desires her as his queen." She didn't realize what personal information she had just revealed until she heard Thanatos's reply.

"Obviously, you're the one who cares for him," he spoke softly, the firmness in his manner evaporating slowly, "Has he shown you any gratitude at all?"

His question, albeit voiced much softer and devoid of any curtness stung Erika right into the very core of her being, piercing her heart as it viciously ripped the veil from her eyes, nudging her to the horrible truth. Shaking her head stiffly, the petite blonde mumbled out, "No, he hasn't."

"I thought so." Unfazed by her sudden silence to his comment, Thanatos simply strolled over the stack of luxurious, regal gowns that Erika had been browsing previously through and pulled out a stunning, sleek corbeau dress of satin, chiffon, and barège.

"Here. Take this one," he told her, passing the gown to Erika's open hands. Frowning, Erika studied the fabric and rest of the outfit. The dress was certainly beautiful and so soft against her fingertips; she definitely could envision her wearing such a lovely thing.

But there was one problem. This wasn't a good dress for Selene.

"I don't think this gown is well suited for her," Erika explained, moving to put the dirndl back, "Black is more of her preference, anyway." Just as she was about hang the dark evergreen outfit back up, Thanatos's hand flew out of nowhere and halted her actions promptly, his rough, yet comforting fingers wrapped around her pale hand.

"I didn't select that dress for her," he began softly, his unreadable eyes locking squarely with Erika's azuline ones, "That dress is meant for _you_, Miss Erika."

* * *

Rubbing her temples in aggravation, Amelia stared long and hard at the center of the table, the only soul in the meeting room. Ever since she heard the news about the disappearance of Markus's tomb and one of the Death Dealers from Viktor's coven was attacked by a new species from Kahn, Amelia had been severely contemplating her options on the matter.

"Markus missing…and a potential new threat," she murmured, severely wishing there was a lycan nearby just so she could ram her sword down its throat, "All this just happened in such a short time and right before the Awakening too." It was alarming coincidence that the very Elder she was suppose to awaken was Markus and now he simply vanished into thin air. Kahn even hinted that a mysterious scarlet-haired vampire who had taken over the previous guard's shift might be the culprit but so far, they couldn't identify the woman.

_What would Victor do if he was here? How would he handle this problem?_

Exhaling deeply and with extreme frustration, Amelia closed her eyes and slowly summoned all the memories Victor had bestowed to her on the night she was Awakened. The key was in his recollections, there had to be something she could use to solve this conundrum.

Taking in another breath, Amelia surrendered herself to Victor's ocean of memories and plunged into icy waters of the aforementioned Elder's phantasmagoria of reminiscences.

"**How could you betray me? With a lycan!" **

"**Father…I love him." **

Sonja's pained visage melted away from Amelia's head and was replaced again with another version of Victor, this time calmly greeting duo of vampires who clutched a toddler with golden locks framing his cherubic features.

**"May I present to you my esteemed guests, Edward Orenstein-?"**

**"Van Helsing. It's Edward Van Helsing." interrupted the said male vampire, his pale face an epitome of perfection and handsomeness. **

**"Edward Van Helsing," Victor amended without missing a beat. "And his wife, Catherine."**

Then this recollection abruptly evanesced, all the images and colors blending together until another one took its place. Now, Amelia beheld a stern, foreboding Victor sitting down with a stranger whose face was obscured via the shadows of the room. The arcane man took a long, exaggerated drag from his cigar and emptied some of the embers on a small crystal tray near his hand.

"**So, Victor…what is it do you wish from me? It's been quite some time since you last summoned me," he drawled out smarmily, taking another puff out of his thick cigar. **

"**I need you to eliminate a small problem for me, a threat to my coven," Victor replied bluntly, his icy tone broking no time for chit-chat, "I want no mistakes, no evidence, nothing. Wipe them off the face of this earth, leave not a trace behind!" **

"**Victor, Victor, Victor," sighed the man deeply, shaking his head much like a disapproved mother would do to her naughty child, "you're acting like I had never done this before. These targets of yours, the Van Helsing family, will hardly be worth a match for my assassins. They won't live to see another sundown." With that said, he blew a wispy ring of smoke and smashed the butt of his cigar against the clear surface of the tiny glass tray. **

"**It was pleasure doing business with you, Victor."**

As this memory slipped away, Amelia was able to catch the name of the supposed guild the stranger worked for: _The Order of Anarchy._

Opening her eyes, the female Elder found herself back into the same, neatly furnished meeting room, opulent and empty. But she now had the information on this occult group Victor had used to dispose of the accursed Van Helsing family. If they could defeat two hybrids and their spawn, they could most certainly handle a new specie and the remaining members of Lucian's army. And thanks to Victor's methodical memories, she now possessed the knowledge to summon their leader.

Tearing off a piece of a paper and quickly scribbling down the message that would convoke the leader of the Order of Anarchy to her, the ancient vampiress tossed the scrap into the flickering flames of the fireplace. Even though she had electricity brightening all the chambers of her coven, Amelia still cleaved to some of the old, traditional ways. Plus, the paper had to burn in fire or else the summoning wouldn't work.

All of sudden, a gelatinous, atrous train of smoke burst out of the old fireplace, chaotically circling around the room in alarming rate. Startled, Amelia unsheathed the sword from her scabbard and positioned the blade in front of her, ready for a precipitate assault. However, the smog ignored her and continued to whirl about, settling near a few meters away from the vampire Elder. The billowing, sinister smoke began taking shape and looked less and less amorphous, forming a more humanoid figure as the seconds went by. Soon enough, Amelia found herself facing the selfsame man she saw in one of Victor's reminiscences.

"Ah, Amelia. It's so good to finally meet you," greeted the stranger charmingly, an unearthly twinkle in his eye as he bent down to give her a flourished bow. "And before you ask me how I know your name, let's just say Victor told me a little bit about his coven and its rules and regulations."

"Are you the leader of the Order of Anarchy?" Amelia inquired bluntly, skipping formalities and ignoring his previous comment. The man nodded and much to her inner frustration, his countenance was still hidden by the shadows.

"Yes, I am. Nero Timur Wentrcek, at your service. Who would you like me to dispose of this time?"

* * *

"_What is a day without a blessed night?  
And what is peace without a blessed fight?  
What is a day without a blessed night?  
And what is peace without a blessed, blessed, blessed fight?  
A quick taste of the poison, a quick twist of the knife  
When the obsession with death  
The obsession with death becomes a way of life  
A quick taste of the poison, a quick twist of the knife  
When the obsession with death  
The obsession with death becomes a way of life__."_

_**-Dead Is The New Alive, **_Emilie Autumn

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Atrous- black

Corbeau- blackish green

Azuline- blue

Everyone, look out! Nero's in the house!

Nero: Greetings to you all. *smiles winsomely*

Okay, no playing the sycophant with my readers and reviewers. Go back to your assassin guild; I'm trying to talk here.

Nero: Guess you won't be sleeping well tonight. *walks out*

That's why I have Thanatos! …So anyway, that's chapter six. I would like to thank: Celtic Aurora, Furionknight, ForeverACharmedOne, Explodium, morgan12149, Thrash Unreal, and vamplady101 for R&R. I must say, I wasn't expecting such a huge stream of reviews—thanks again, you guys!

So, review, alert, favorite, critique, but flamers will be sent to Nero and the Order of Anarchy to be used as targets.

Nero: So readers, flame away! My assassins and I could always use some fresh targets for practice! *cocks pistol*

I should have known that he wouldn't listen to me…

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


	7. VII: The Seven Deadlies

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**VII: **_The Seven Deadlies _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"The City in the Sea" by Edgar Allen Poe

"In Darkness" by Amy Lowell

**Disclaimer: Don't own a thing save for my characters. Oh, by the way, course, adult language and content will be arriving in this chapter. Make sure no little kiddies are reading this chapter. **

* * *

"_Lo! Death has reared himself as throne_

_In a strange city lying alone_

_Far down within the dim West_

_Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best_

_Have gone to their eternal rest._

_There shrines and palaces and towers_

_(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)_

_Resemble nothing that is ours._

_Around, lifting winds forgot,_

_Resignedly beneath the sky_

_The melancholy waters lie."_

_**-The City in the Sea, **_Edgar Allen Poe

* * *

Today had been a rather pleasant day for Nero Wentreck.

Before his meeting with Amelia, the daily routine in the Order of Anarchy had started to become rather slow, mundane, and a tad bit dull–you'd think for a band of assassins they would have more hit contracts but competition was in the air and Nero thought that maybe it was time for his subordinates to target other assassins so more of the money would instead line their pockets. He was beginning to miss the smell of blood and corpses; the scent was always so invigorating to him.

But now, at last, Victor's coven summoned him for his aid and he was only too eager to comply. Amelia agreed to pay him the handsome sum and he assured her he would take care of the werewolves and their little allies as soon as possible. After all, he and his band of assassins never failed a single contract, Nero made certain of that. They weren't one of most feared assassin clans in the world for nothing.

However, that didn't mean they'd fight Victor's war for them. Victor unhappily understood that and now, so did Amelia. Victor, of course, only had himself to blame for his little botch-up and Nero was never pleased when his gifts or additional rewards were taken away from him. Victor was lucky enough he let him live after that embarrassing mistake years ago.

_But perhaps now is the time where my waiting is over. This could be the year where I collect my reward, regardless of the circumstances. I grow weary of waiting. _

"Master…?"

The hushed, inquisitive voice drew Nero out of his short musing and he glanced up, surveying the wide, round, and darkened chamber his cunning, almighty gaze.

Lust. Pride. Wrath. Greed. Sloth. Envy. Gluttony. Dubbed after the Seven Deadly Sins the Church and clergymen warned everyone in the world to beware of and avoid at all costs. Such names were fitting for his assassins, men and women who had sinned so many times they would give a priest an apoplexy if they went to a confession. Nero did that aplenty–just for shits and giggles.

Now, he satisfied to see all seven of them had arrived. Earlier, he had ordered them to meet him in the throne room (as he liked to call that specific chamber) to brief over their next mission.

"Many of you are probably wondering what task is so crucial that I would summon all seven of you, the Seven Deadlies," Nero began in his usual charismatic manner, sitting up from his throne, "So I will tell you. I have a contract from the Ordoghaz coven, by Amelia, one of the Elders."

"Does this mean we get to kill someone?"

Nero fought down the urge to smirk evilly at the question. Trust Wrath to say such a thing. It was a silly query for they always had to kill someone—but he appreciated the assassin's enthusiasm. His eagerness for bloodshed was one of the reasons that earned him the name Wrath and the title as one of the Seven Deadlies.

"Isn't it obvious, Wrath?" he responded, the corners of his lips curling upwards, "But this time, we get to dispatch a whole army instead of a single person."

"Is it the rebellious lycan army?" interjected Pride, his glacial, scarlet eyes darting away from the new "weapon" he was creating to Nero's face, "Yet I thought you refused—" The leader of the Order of Anarchy held up his hand and the hired blade ceased immediately.

"I am well aware of my decisions for not assisting Victor and his coven totally in his war. However, Amelia requested me to take care of what seems like possible allies of the werewolves. They are our _real _targets. However, if a few lycans get in the way, our pay doubles for each corpse." He said this specifically for Greed, who loved the chance to get an extra bit of money. Of course, currency wasn't the only thing the assassin was voracious for.

"Who exactly are these allies? Does the Ordoghaz coven have information on them?" inquired Envy, her unblinking inky eyes staring right at him. He shook his head.

"Not much, I'm afraid. So far, all they have are a mysterious, alluring woman who can summon spiders and potentially a red-headed, turncoat vampire. But since this is Victor's coven, they're bound to make plenty of mistakes."

Several chuckles erupted from the group at his little jab. Once the laughter died down, Nero handed them their files, knowing they would uncover the rest. After all, they were the second-best assassins in his order. They could take down the evasive, strange allies of Lucian without breaking a sweat. That's why he summoned them, not the Unholy Five. Bringing the Unholy Five into this would be overkill and Nero preferred not to waste his men with jobs that were so below their talents.

"Now, I do believe this charming little press conference is over. Time for all you to start the hunt."

Seven identical insidious grins greeted his manifesto.

* * *

It didn't take them long to find the hidden base of Lucian and his rebel force. Of course, they did have help from an unnamed source in the Ordoghaz coven but they managed to find the lair all by themselves. After all, they weren't the second circle of the Order of Anarchy for nothing.

Meanwhile, the Seven Deadlies kept to the walls of the sewers, the shadows masking them quite nicely. Before they went in, they had spread and caked themselves with dirt, grim, and muck to conceal their scent from the werewolves. The trash and dirty water from the sewer would be enough to plug their noses but the assassins didn't want to make any mistakes.

"What is our status, Pride?" whispered Envy, onyx shifting from the opening of a tunnel nearby to their group's tactician. "How do we draw Lucian's allies out?"

"Why don't we just storm in there and slay them all? Easy plan, bloody as hell, and plus, we'll be richer than kings." Greed suggested and Gluttony, his bedmate gave him an approving simper. Sloth shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Wealth will be of no use to you, Greed, when you're dead," he spat, fingers dancing anxiously on the hilt of his blade, "Let Pride think of a plan, he knows what's best."

"Of course he does," mocked Greed, raising his voice an octave higher and adopting an almost petulant tone, "'Pride knows what he's doing, Greed, so don't question his orders'. 'Pride is an absolute genius, Greed'. 'Shut-up, Greed, and go back to counting money'. I'd go on with all of your fervent, zealous ramblings but I might throw up." He glared at his "fellow" members–save for his mate, Gluttony, who was only one who understood him truly–, a sneer growing on his face.

"Well, piss on that! I don't give a fuck and I'm tired of waiting around—"

Out of nowhere, a blade soared through the air and pinned the sleeve of Greed's rough, faded stone grey jacket to the wall behind him. Greed barely batted an eyelash as he lifted his head to meet the gaze of the man who sent the attack.

"Got something to say, Pride?" he jeered, hellish orange eyes flashing dangerously. Cold, harsh, maroon orbs stared right back him, no emotion in them whatsoever. Pride was like living mirror of the dolls he loved to craft so much.

"Greed." The timbre was curt and brisk. "Curb your tongue. I need some peace and your complaining isn't helping me at all. Go paw Gluttony while you're waiting."

Greed was about to say a few utterly crude and profane expletives (some referring to Pride's heritage to livestock) but the silky brush of Gluttony's hand snaking up his arm stopped him.

"Greed…please, save it for later. Why waste your time with him when you have me?" she whispered sultrily into his ear, removing her hand from his arm to his abdomen, trailing it down towards his crouch. Immediately, he hardened from her touch and the rest of the assassins turned away in disgust, not caring to see what betided next.

Lust blazing in his eyes, a toothy grin spread across Greed's lips as he grabbed Gluttony's arm and drove her up against the wall, kissing, fondling, and groping her while she did her best not to let out a little giggle or shriek of rapture. The crafty, beauteous woman grasped her partner's belt, easily undoing it while Greed tossed up her skirts as if the material was made of air.

"I do believe we have time for one quick romp," answered the avid assassin lewdly, gently tweaking his mate's taut nipple before he grasped his mate's thighs firmly and brought Gluttony down on his eager, waiting cock.

* * *

Something just wasn't quite right today.

Magna couldn't put her finger on the hunch but she could feel the omen deep in her bones. Trouble was brewing and the old seer witch reckoned it was coming right around the corner, very soon. Master Thanatos should be forewarned, no matter how much physical, solid evidence her intuition lacked.

Hence, the archaic witch began wondering down the many twisted levels of the sewer, wishing the lycan leader Lucian provided more suitable—and not so infuriatingly torturous—lair that didn't have so many bloody corridors, stairs, twists, and turns. Such obstacles were never good for someone her age.

Just when she reached the second level and was about to head down to the ground level, Sonja, the alleged lover of Lucian, appeared out from an opposite hallway.

"Oh, Magna," the vampiress said suddenly, "I didn't see you there. Are you heading down to the main floor?"

"Yes," croaked the crone, continuing her pace, "I take it you are as well, Miss Sonja—or is it Mrs. Sonja?"

"Just call me Sonja, Magna," she corrected politely, her face blasé and yet her dusky eyes were soft and rather kind. She offered the see her arm. "Please, take my arm. You seem to have suffered a bit during your walk."

"Walk? More like journey." grunted Magna, shaking her head but she accepted Sonja's arm anyway. "Blood stairs, cracks, and stumps! They'll be the death of me, I swear!"

"Oh, I'm sure you're much tougher than that," Sonja remarked drolly, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in regalement.

"Tougher than meat, some say," commented Magna dryly, her leathery face stretching out into a toothy, almost frightening smile, "But I reckon that's not really what you're want to discuss with me." The devious, knowing twinkle in the old witch's eye unnerved Sonja more than the strange beam but she pressed on nonetheless.

"Fine, you caught me on that one. I just wanted to ask you about Thanatos." She didn't add "your master" because for some reason, the phrase felt weird on her tongue. Hopefully, the aging witch took no offense to the lack of the honorific.

"Ah, curious about my master?" chuckled Magna as they walked along the grimy, stone path, "The young often are. Tell me, what is it that you would like to know?"

"Anything, everything," Sonja blurted out, wondering where she should begin, "Why did your…master want to join Lucian? Why sort of grudge does he harbor for my father?"

_Father. _That word tasted even stranger and bitter in her tongue than referring to the necromancer as "Master".

Magna chortled eerily at her query. "Ah, doesn't everybody want to know?" She flashed her yellow, chipped yet perfectly straight teeth at the former Death Dealer. "My master has his reasons and it's none of my business to pry. I'd give you the same advice but from what I have heard of you, I'd doubt you'll listen."

Sonja didn't even bother to ponder if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. "But I wish to learn more of your master," she urged on, hoping with all her heart and the safety of her child that Lucian didn't pick the wrong ally, "I have no ill intentions for him, Magna. Please, understand that." The old seer stopped suddenly, eyeing her crucially with her beady, unfathomable eyes. Almost a minute or so passed by and yet, she was still scrutinizing Sonja. The fierce vampire was starting to feel slightly unnerved at the weight of Magna boring her gaze deep into her being, as if studying her soul and mind for any falsehoods.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Magna nodded her head slowly, a gesture of acceptance and kept on walking. "Very well. What do you wish to know?"

"Well, to restate my earlier question, I want to know why your master allied himself with Lucian. What sort of vendetta does he want to settle with my father?" Sonja repeated, her strides matching Magna's shorter ones perfectly, albeit with more effort. The crone frowned pensively at her questioned again.

"To be frank, my dear Sonja, I can't be certain. There are some tales that my master Thanatos doesn't share with us. Some scars, no matter how old, can never be fully healed. Do you understand my meaning?" Sonja glanced back down again, just in time to see the old seer's beady eyes gazing back at her. Wordlessly, she nodded her head.

_So much for this conversation being informative. I suppose I'll have to ask the necromancer myself. _

For the duration of the trip downstairs to the main chamber, Sonja and Magna walked alongside each other in absolute silence. It was there they soon realized that the base was under attack.

* * *

Pierce, Taylor, and few other lycans Lucian had assigned watch in the general vicinity prowled the outside skirts of their underground lair. Taylor wrinkled his nose at the constant, suffocating malodor of shit, piss, rot, mud, and dirty water. Even though he got use to all various repugnant smells of the sewer, he'd still wished they could have had their base somewhere else, somewhere a bit more dignified and less…putrid.

"Taylor! Pierce! I think I heard something!" called out Randolf, a young werewolf around Taylor's age and he raced up to the two watch partners, "It came over here–I think there's someone here!"

"Another annoying Death Dealer?" grumbled Taylor as he followed the other lycan and Pierce.

"Hope not," grunted the older, bigger lycan, "Now is not a good time for us to be under attack."

The three werewolves rushed hectically back to the location where Randolf last heard the peculiar noise. Randolf's watch partner was already there, looking around while sniffing the air. When he heard their approach, he looked up at the three lycans and shook his head. Randolf frowned and joined in on the search but akin to his partner, he uncovered nothing.

"Sorry, fellows, but I can't seem to—"

He never finished his sentence. A knife was lodged in his bloody, torn throat, ending his words for the young werewolf. Randolf's body crumpled to the floor, the carcass of his suddenly dead partner behind him, leaning up against all, blood splotches littering the grimy brick wall. Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest displayed his demise.

Immediately sensing danger, Pierce and Taylor quickly burst into their lycan forms, howling out danger and a potential breach in the base. Just as they were lopping and sprinting their way down the corridors, several pangs of immense agony erupted all over their bodies and both Peirce and Taylor growled and whimpered at the excruciating pain. Only silver bullets could create such a detriment.

Despite the swelling pain, the two werewolves struggled on, streaking blood behind them. They didn't stop until they heard a sharp, satanic cackle and then later, a cold but equally regaled tenor.

"What devoted dogs this Lucian fellow must have. You two would make such wonderful puppets."

Abruptly, Pierce and Taylor felt their bodies go numb, their control over themselves fading away as a blanket of darkness shrouded them with its nebulous, potent hand.

* * *

Panic, violent clamor, and agonized cries and howls wracked Lucian's base as he rushed down to the meeting area of his complex, rage rolling off him in waves. How could have this transpired? How did the enemy managed to breach their patrol until it was too late? Not only was he going to have to deal with this sanguinary mess himself, he was also going to have to tighten up security even more.

_Dammit, weren't Taylor and Pierce one of the last sentries who alerted the foe's presence?_

After hearing their distress call, Lucian didn't hear nor see either one of them since then. For all the lycan leader knew, they were either dead, injured, or taken hostage but Lucian doubted the latter. He needed Raze and the rest of his men right now.

"Raze? Raze!" He thundered, partly relieved to see Sonja safe and sound with the strange necromancer Thanatos and his small, private army. He noticed the Clarissa woman wasn't with them and groaned inwardly. He had a sneaking suspicion where Raze was at the moment.

"Raze and Clarissa will be coming shortly, Lucian," said the old crone called Magna in a cracked, but unwavering voice, "No need to panic over his whereabouts."

"Panic? I'm more enraged and frustrated right now." Lucian growled, walking over to his table and began loading his pistols. "I don't know how Victor's coven found my base but now it has been sieged, I have ordered all of my men to take their positions and get ready to attack. We have yet to glimpse the enemy's face but I already know for certain who is assailing us."

"It's not Victor's coven," interrupted Magna, beady nigrine eyes now in a trance, her voice dropping several pitches until she sound dark and sinister, "These killers…you have never faced them before... Paid by gold, they will hunt you down until you are dead…until everyone here is a corpse…"

"What? What are you saying?" interjected Sonja hotly, dark eyes flashing with fire and worry, "Does my father have an ally that we are not aware of?" Almost instantly, Magna nodded her head, her eyes still glazed over and the seer's stare was still distant and fathomless.

"I sense…seven of them. Seven black hearts, full of sin and blood, to match their names."

Lucian looked up, dark azure eyes meeting the unblinking, unnerving emerald gaze of Thanatos. The necromancer held his scrutiny for a few second before shifting his attention to his archaic witch, who was slowing coming out of her trance.

"Is that everything, Magna?" he queried tonelessly, not a shred of emotion cast on his ivory features. The crone nodded silently. "Then we better get ready for battle. Ukon, please go find Clarissa. I want her put those succubus abilities of hers to the test." He then turned to face Lucian again.

"Lucian, tell your men to pull back. Let me and my army deal with these…wretches."

This baffled Lucian–why did Thanatos want to put his live and his followers' lives on the line like that?

"Do you even know who you are dealing with?" demanded the lycan leader, grabbing Thanatos's arm and bring him aside so they can talk more in private, "Yes, there are only seven of them but if we can outman them, we should be able to overpower once we determine their location in the sewers and plot out a strategy."

"That won't be necessary." Thanatos's timbre was sharp and swift. "Don't waste your men on these assassins, Lucian. Allow me to take care of them. Consider this another benefit of your alliance with me and evidence of my…devotion." An eerie, almost genuine smile formed its way across his lips.

"And perhaps after this, you'll begin to trust me more. After all, we both want to bring Victor down, don't we?" Impervious verdant orbs stared right back Lucian, challenging him to say otherwise. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the wary look Sonja sent his way but he already felt her concern. If he wanted to trust this Thanatos man more, he would just have to let him prove his loyalty to the cause while he tried to glean some background information about his mysterious ally.

Still, Thanatos's haunting words continued echo inside Lucian's head, those piercing green eyes entering, disturbing his thoughts even after Lucian called his men to back down and allow Thanatos and his minions to kill the intruders.

_I really am going to have a long conversation with this necromancer. I sense that he's hiding far too much from me. _

If that was the case, Lucian wouldn't be at all shocked.

* * *

Clarissa knew those bothersome assassins were out there, concealed in the shadows. Magna had pinpointed their location but couldn't fully detect what exactly they were. Most of them weren't human, she had declared. Well, Clarissa wasn't too worried about that–she could ensnare any man, human or not. The only thing the succubus was uncertain, or rather _concerned, _about when and where the assailants would strike.

_Come out, come out, where ever you are. Clarissa is getting bored and her darling pets want to play. _

Fortunately for Clarissa, she didn't have to wait long for she heard the faint, muffled sounds of footsteps and abruptly, out of the shadows appeared a man with shimmering golden hair. Just by one glance, Clarissa immediately knew he was far from human. No human could ever hope be as handsome as this male standing right in front of her. Slightly wavy blonde hair that parted off to his left side, warm brown eyes that were lewdly undressing her enticing form (not that she minded), and a killer body with amazing abdominal muscles regular men would kill to have. If he wasn't the enemy, Clarissa would have been sorely tempted to stroke those fine abdominals of his. Scratch that, she'll do it anyway, whether or not he was the enemy.

_Too tan for a vampire–he must be an incubus!_

"I never thought I would discover such a beauty done here," remarked the gorgeous male specimen, carefully approaching Clarissa, a winsome smile adorning his features, "What are doing down here, honey?"

Simpering, she sent him a coy wink and turned around, wiggling her hips expertly as if to beckon him to follow. "Why don't you follow me and find out?" she offered seductively, her whole body thrumming with sexual desire and delight. After this, she definitely would have another go with Raze.

"Oh, I don't think that would be a wise idea on my part. Your little friends won't like me."

_Ah, so no more flirting or seducing? Fine then, we'll just cut to the chase._

"Maybe if you and your pals didn't kill off some of Lucian's men, we wouldn't be in this situation," countered Clarissa, turning back around to face him, "I'd hate to fight you and ruin your good looks."

"Same here. Why don't you just leave those fools and come with me. I guaranty you I will sate all of your needs better than any of those incompetent buffoons." His golden, charming smile widen, holding out his hand for her to take. "What do you say?"

_You're lucky Raze isn't here right now. He'd tear your throat out for insinuating he's not man enough to handle me. And trust me, he _is.

"Your proposal is so very tempting," Clarissa began, licking her lips in a suggestive manner as she sashayed towards the man, curling one leg around him. He stiffened immediately, whether from lust or wariness, she didn't care. "However, the man whom I serve…I could never betray him."

The incubus sighed. "Pity."

Gold eyes meet smoldering brown, intense with arousal, passion, and alertness. A black window, hovering over the inhuman male, spun a gossamer thread and slowly inched towards his head. Nearby, a hawk, concealed in the shadows, watched Clarissa meticulously, wings lifting upwards to take flight. Each creature was waiting for the final command of its master to strike and attack their prey. And both demons knew what the other was planning, they were just looking for the opportune moment.

"Before we begin," cut in Clarissa, temporarily halting the suspenseful atmosphere hanging over them, "you never told me your name, handsome."

The blonde incubus smiled darkly, his burnet eyes alight with amusement.

"The name's Lust. And who might you be?"

"Clarissa."

The black window fell on the incubus's shoulder, venomous fangs sinking deep into his flesh. The red-tailed hawk flew swiftly from its perch, sharp talons and beak slicing the skin of gold-eyed succubus. Both Lust's and Clarissa's pained hisses echoed all over the compound and in instant, the Seven Deadlies darted out of the shadows, heading towards the main entrance of Lucian's base, only to be stopped by gunfire, slashes of steel, a bolt of magic, a cracking whip. The hesitation only lasted for a few seconds. Immediately, Jacob and Blanca pounced on a duo of demons and they responded back with several rounds of bullets and blast of fire. Edward was nearly tackled by a female vampire with short, spiky hair and a hellish smile on her face. He backhanded her with his gun and immediately rolled out of striking range, firing at her as he recovered his balance. Magna sent another vortex of magic towards the only person she believed to be human while Ukon unsheathed one katana and already engaged the remaining enemy. This just left Thanatos staring impassively at a man sporting unruly locks of auburn and eyes of dark, piercing cinnabar.

"I take it you the unofficial leader of this group," Thanatos remarked monotonously, one hand on his saber, the other on his rosary chain. The young man nodded.

"I am called Pride. My comrades possess names similar to mine, as you might reckon."

"I daresay I would," the necromancer retorted dryly, withdrawing his saber, "but I say that's enough chatting." He moved to lunge at Pride but the enigmatic man dodged the blade and practically summersaulted away, a smarmy jeer spreading across his lips.

"I couldn't agree more, dead man. But first, in order to prove your worth, you're going to have to get past my puppets, my precious dolls."

Although Thanatos's expression remained blank, he did arch one eyebrow at his opponent's choice of words. "Puppets, eh? Quit taking my vocabulary, assassin." He went to strike again but a chilling roar stopped him, forcing the necromancer to turn around and elude a huge paw swiping at him. Thanatos swirled around and sliced the tip of his saber at the creature, causing an agonized cry to erupt from it. When he gained proper footing and was able to study his new foe more closely, his deep emerald eyes widen with shock.

The creature who attacked him was one of Lucian's lycans.

* * *

Selene shoved open the doors in her usual intimidating manner, ignoring the curious yet bored stares of the aristocratic vampires. They quickly returned back to their idle chatter and lazily sipping their drinks while the Death Dealer blew right past them, in search of Kahn. She didn't have to look for long because he nearly came sprinting down the hall and stopped just in time before he collided into her.

"Selene!" he exclaimed, his typical rational demeanor slightly rattled–which disturbed the said vampiress greatly. "Your timing couldn't have been more perfect. I have some bad news." Kahn quickly turned around again and walked briskly towards the throne room, the crypt.

"What's going on? Did something happen to Amelia? Has there been another lycan attack nearby?" Selene queried sharply, her mind running with all possible scenarios and dire issues that Kahn would be extremely worried about. _Oh-no, what if it's Victor?_

"Amelia's all right–and so is Victor," added Kahn, as if he read her mind, "But I can't say the same for Markus."

Supreme joy flooded Selene's senses when she heard her mentor, her foster father was safe and sound. But her mind quickly nagged her that this was no time to rejoice–Markus, the other Elder, was still in danger.

"What do you mean? Is he dead?" Much to Selene's relief, Kahn shook his head.

"No, he just been…well, abducted."

Both of Selene's eyebrows shot straight up in disbelief. "Abducted? You got to be joking! Where were the guards?"

"One was present but he was told to leave by this red-haired vampiress, whom I believe to be the person responsible for Markus's disappearance. The man watching over the crypt was told by this woman that his shift was over and she would take his place. Once he left, she disappeared and so did Markus's tomb, as we later uncovered."

"Did anyone see her or someone else leaving the coven with a rather large baggage?" Selene knew their normal, sleek sport or travel cars couldn't carry any one of the Elders' coffins in their trunk, they would need an enormous truck for that.

Kahn shook his head again. "No, no one left the compound or tripped the alarm during that time. So whoever it was either left by another method or is still in the coven, hiding."

"If that's the case, then we better start checking every single room, from top to bottom."

Kahn gave her a small smile. "Already on it, Selene. So far, nothing has turned up but we'll find something. "

"I hope so," Selene replied as they approached the throne room, "Because we don't have just Markus's disappearance to worry about."

Kahn nearly grimaced at her foreboding words. "What is it, Selene? What did you find out about that woman when you were with Tanis?"

Her answer was simple. "Succubus, Kahn. We're going up against a damned succubus."

* * *

**"**_Must all of worth be travailled for, and those  
Life's brightest stars rise from a troubled sea?  
Must years go by in sad uncertainty  
Leaving us doubting whose the conquering blows,  
Are we or Fate the victors? Time which shows  
All inner meanings will reveal, but we  
Shall never know the upshot. Ours to be  
Wasted with longing, shattered in the throes,  
The agonies of splendid dreams, which day  
Dims from our vision, but each night brings back;  
We strive to hold their grandeur, and essay  
To be the thing we dream. Sudden we lack  
The flash of insight, life grows drear and gray,  
And hour follows hour, nerveless, slack._**_"_**

**_-In Darkness, _**Amy Lowell

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Nigrine- black

Burnet- dark brown

Cinnabar- red

Soooo, hey everyone! I know it's been over a year and many months and I have several reasons for why it took me forever to get this next chapter going. 1) I was five chapters away in finishing another story and so I wanted to get that fanfic done and over with so I could devote all my time to this story. 2) College. Yes, college and hanging out with friends drained plenty of my time. But I had fun. 3) "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. I'm hooked onto that series and want to nothing but keeping reading until I finish book 4 before the fifth one comes out. 4) Oblivion, Assassin's Creed, Nancy Drew, Fire Emblem, etc.—I got sucked into playing all these games but I managed to resist long enough to finish the chapter. Hopefully, I can get more out this summer before fall and school starts rolling back in again.

Selene: It's about time you updated. I was about to kill more lycans because I was so damned bored.

Hey, I don't need any sass from you today, Selene. Remember, I am the puppet master and you are but the puppet on my strings.

Selene: *cocks pistol* Am not!

Kill me and I will return even more powerful than before! Plus, you'll have a mob of readers who'd want to know what happens next.

Selene: *grumbles but puts pistol away* Fine.

There we go, Selene. Now, dance, puppet, dance!

Thanatos: Hm, she's acting a bit too much like me now…

All right, enough of my raving! Review, alert, favorite, critique, or flame, I hope my absence and my long, overdue update doesn't cost me any feedback.

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_


	8. VIII: The Battle of Blood and Sin

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**VIII: **_The Battle of Blood and Sin _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"The Conqueror Worm" by Edgar Allen Poe

"Sonnet 60" by William Shakespeare

**Disclaimer: Don't own a single bloody piece of Underworld. Catherine and her brood are on a loan. So onto your crappy animated cartoon—I mean, onto the chapter!**

* * *

"_Mimes, in the form of God on high,_

_Mutter and mumble low_

_And hither and thither fly—_

_Mere puppets they, who come and go_

_At bidding of vast formless things_

_The shift the scenery to and fro,_

_Flapping from out their Condor wings_

_Invisible Wo!_

_That motley drama— oh, be sure,_

_It shall not be forgot!_

_With its Phantom chased for evermore_

_By a crowd that seize it not, _

_Through a circle that ever returneth in_

_To the self-same spot,_

_And much of Madness, and more of Sin, _

_And Horror the soul of the plot."_

_**-The Conqueror Worm,**_ Edgar Allen Poe

* * *

Ukon studied the man–no, creature–before him, katana in hand. The man called himself Wrath right before changing into a werewolf. Ukon was rather surprised that a rogue lycan would be working against someone who wanted freedom for all werewolves but he knew how many men could be tempted by gold and other rewards.

But Ukon was not those men. He was a warrior, once a samurai and assassin, but most of all, the last of the Ryuunosuke clan. He was a dragon and dragons do not submit to weaknesses. _And dragons cannot be killed by a mere wolf, lycan or not. _

"Come," he spoke in a low, calm voice, leveling his long, razor-sharp katana at the lycan, who was snarling and flashing his gleaming white fangs at him, "Meet your doom, Wrath-jukeisha **(1)**."

Wrath growled and lunged forward, jaws opened wide while he raised his clawed hands to strike Ukon but the trained former assassin easily dodged the attack and slashed his blade forward, slicing off a few of the werewolf's fingers off while nicking him the face. Wrath howled, jerking himself back to avoid the oncoming advances of Ukon's katana. Dark drops of cramoisy sprinkled everywhere from the swollen stubs on the lycan's hands as he climbed the wall to the ceiling, far out of reach from Ukon's sword. He then turned around, gnashing his teeth furiously at the Japanese warrior, back legs dipped back in preparation for another assault. Ukon remained unafraid and composed; his battle stance ready and katana positioned for counterattack. His atrous eyes, emotionless and adamant, never blinked nor averted their gaze from the creature.

Enraged, the werewolf assassin growled and leapt out at Ukon, who used his sword to block the impending attack. However, at the last second, Wrath tricked him and instead of assailing him outright, he had reached out, grabbed a hold on the pipes attached to the ceiling, and kicked Ukon across the head with one of his feet. He stumbled a bit yet quickly recovered and advanced forward to hack off Wrath's legs but the nimble lycan swiftly eluded the arc of his katana, planting all four feet on the ceiling and rapidly crawled out of range from Ukon's sword before landing back on the ground on his back two legs perfectly.

"Crawling away from danger will do you no good," Ukon told him staidly, discreetly flicking the blood on his face away. A long gash from his head had blood trickling down his cheek but he ignored the blood, the blazing pain, everything. All that mattered now was his opponent. "Face me with honor and courage and I will make your death clean and swift."

The werewolf snorted at him derisively and began licking the blood off his fingers, stubs and all. The assassin didn't speak but Ukon understood his body language well enough to know he had rejected his offer.

_So be it then._

Hands grasping his prized katana tightly, Ukon held his blade up high to his face and sprinted forward, meeting the wretched, gnarled face of an animal and cruel ebony claws caked in fresh blood. Sword parried claws, cold steel against fur and flesh while blood of wolf and man ran like a gory brook against the stone floor of the sewer.

* * *

Never in his life had Jacob Tornincasa wanted to so hard laugh, especially when he was in the middle of the battle.

The two assassins (who fancied themselves as Greed and Gluttony) reminded him so much of him and Blanca–they even fought as pair, much like he and Blanca would do when they were feeling exceptionally blood-thirsty and wanted to sex each other up later on their foes' rotting corpses after the onset was over and done with.

These demons Greed and Gluttony were walking replicas of him and Blanca and now, they had to kill them. The prospect amused Jacob so greatly that he couldn't wait turn the idea of theirs deaths into a reality.

With a flick of his wrist, he lashed out at Greed with one of his spiked whips, laughing manically as the demon attempted to dodge one while he sent the other whip to cut him off. Meanwhile, Blanca was shapeshifting into number of creatures and engaging in a hand-to-hand combat with the demon mistress called Gluttony. Apparently, she was a descendent of Lamia–or so she claimed. Jacob put little stock in demons that ran around and manifested they were related to notorious, famous demons, most them were liars anyway, just like one Blanca was fighting.

_Next we'll be goin__g up against one who claims he is Satan's cousin seventh twice removed! _

"So, Greed," drawled out Jacob, lashing his spiked whips at the said hired blade again, "your mate says she carries the blood of Lamia in her veins. What other nonsense you hacks are going spout now? Are you related to Jezebel or something?"

Greed's amber eyes blazed with fury and irritation at Jacob's taunts and he sent a stream of fire at his face. Laughing the attack off, Jacob ducked just in time to only have the tips of his inky hair being singed off instead of his entire visage.

"Neat parlor trick you have," he jeered, tripping the demon with one of his whips and hopped another pile of rubble to avoid another burst of flames, "Tell me, is that all you can do?"

"Petty demon!" spat Greed, a dark temperament awash on his broad features, "I am the son of Rahovart himself, a comrade of Lucifer. You do well to show me respect but I shouldn't have expected that from a baseborn fiend such as you."

"Baseborn? Aren't you a dunce." snorted Jacob, who was in no mood to exchange bloodlines and heritage stories with this assassin, he was getting more and more annoying with his mouth open.

_All the more reason to shut him up permanently. _

Just when he was about to block another onset of fire–and this time, a volley of bullets as well–Blanca, in the form a lioness, came out of nowhere and tackled Greed to the ground, jaws clamped down on his forearm while blood seeped out everywhere, down the demon's arm, into Blanca's muzzle, and against the dirty ground of the sewer system. Thinking quickly, Jacob wrapped one whip around Greed's leg while the demon born from Rahovart used his free arm to aim his automatic pistol at Blanca and pull the trigger.

"NO!" he roared, cracking his other whip at Greed's face, knocking the gun out of his hand just in time. Gluttony, having recovered from the last hit Blanca gave her, returned to the fray and practically dragged the Spanish shapeshifter off of Greed and the two women continued to duel each other once more, leaving Jacob and Greed to themselves once more.

"Almost got your bitch," grumbled Greed with a satanic laugh, "She'd look nice with a bullet in the brain. I doubt even a shapeshifter could survive that."

"You're even dumber than you look," growled Jacob, picking Greed up with his whip and hurtling him against the wall, giving the demon a snigger of his own as he watched Greed collided painfully to the concrete surface, "For no one harms my Blanca but me. Only I can cause her agony."

Greed looked up him with perplexed and perturbed eyes. "What kind of sick fuck are you?"

This only made Jacob grin even wider. "The kind that would make bloody Jesus Christ roll around in his grave."

* * *

"You're not like the others," stated Magna curiously, muttering a quick shield spell. A sheet indigo haze of energy and light immediately appeared out of thin air and deflected a bombardment of bullets from Sloth, who simply reloaded another road and stalked Magna's movements carefully. "You're human–am I correct?"

"Yes, witch, I am. Stop your rambling and fight me! Assassins don't talk to those they kill." Sloth replied scornfully. Magna sent a swirling orb of electric energy straight at him and he easily rolled out of harm's way. Magna frowned and delivered a few more magical spells his way, scorching him here and there but not killing him.

"Ah, but you forget, Mr. Sloth, that even though assassins may not converse to those they plan to dispatch, they can still die at the hands of their victims."

Sloth smirked at her words. "What humorous sayings from an old bat. Have any other proverbs for me, granny?"

Magna strike the ground with her staff, another chant already leaving her lips when Sloth had finished his taunt. The ground beneath him already began to shake and the human assassin already was having trouble regaining his balance. This time, it was Magna's turn to fleer at him.

"'_Pride cometh before the fall_'," she quoted, cackling madly as he nearly fell to the floor. Cutting her a dirty glower, Sloth simply shot more bullets at the seer, provoking her to bring her shield up again. However, she raised the shield a bit too slow and as a result, a few bullets got through. Once grazed her bicep, the other skimmed along the skin of her calf. The pain was sharp and lingering and the old witch cried out in alarm as the fiery sting soared through both her arm and leg. Unfortunately, the detriment was enough to shake her concentration and the mauve energy shield collapsed, forcing Magna to retreat and hide behind a stone slab as the rest of the bullets embedded themselves into the wall. Ribbons of puccoon and vermillion poured sluggishly from the grazed bullet wounds and Magna coughed raggedly into her shawl, trying to collect her strength and breath.

_Ah, what I'd give to be fifty or sixty years younger…I would have been done with this louse in no time. Thankfully, the ground is still shaking so he can't come after me just yet._

"Still…'tis best I keep him busy," the witch whispered to herself, peeking around the slab to see Sloth collecting his bearings and rising to her feet. Sensing her opportunity, she raised her staff and sent a bolt of lightning out of the tip of her staff towards the assassin's back.

* * *

Edward whipped away a drop of blood from his lips and glared murderously at the woman who had just socked him in the jaw. She was fast, he'll give her that, but she was starting to irk him bit by bit. Earlier, in the beginning of their fight, the vampire calling herself Envy stated she wanted to savor this battle and discard her guns, saying it would much more invigorating and challenging if they simply fought with their hands and strengths. Edward didn't care in which many they fought, he could kill her anyway. (Besides, he had some amazing and insightful martial arts lessons from Ukon himself, who had been trained to be a feared assassin since the day he could walk.)

"You're a slick one, _copine _**(2)**," she remarked with sly grin, several bruises already forming on her face and arms, "I going to be waking up sore tomorrow morning."

"I don't think there's going to be a tomorrow morning for you," Edward groused, feeling his nails elongating slowly, his demonic side fighting, screaming for control. Oh, how bad he wanted to let all restraint go and unfurl his wings, let the fire remain supreme against his foe—

Edward immediately snapped out of his reverie as Envy's fist came sailing towards him. He easily caught it and delivered a side kick into her abdomen, hitting the ribs. She stumbled back, cursing as she clutched her side. He quickly went at her again, a punch aiming towards her fact but she blocked it with her free arm. Using his other hand, he came around and took a rear punch to the head, discombobulating her completely. He was then about slap his hands against her ears when out of nowhere, Envy suddenly, turned to her left side, raised her right knee and began pivoting so rapidly Edward only had mere seconds to block and evade the mounting impact of her roundhouse kick.

"You recover fast," the hybrid grunted before dodging another series of punches and kicks, cutting a nice left hook below her armpit. She, in return, gave him a mean open-palmed fist into his solar plexus. Edward quickly retreated, getting out of striking range to collect his bearings. Both of them were panting but Edward sensed Envy was a little more banged up than him. She already had a cracked rib or two and that was where he would strike again and again until she fell on her knees begging for mercy.

"Man, you're a tricky _salopard_ **(3)**," grumbled Envy, cracking her knuckles, grimacing as she moved her muscles around, "Son of bitch, I'm beginning to regret the no guns rule."

Edward couldn't help it but to smirk. "Little good that will do you now. I'm going make you rue that decision even more."

The bloodthirsty, fiery vampiress sneered right back. "Oh really? Hand it to me, you bloody bastard!"

She burst forward with fists flying and he returned the fire with equal fervor and force, kicks and punches alike.

* * *

Thanatos smashed the hilt of his saber against the face of the werewolf and then delivered a nonlethal cut across its chest. Pulling punches was an absolute bitch but Thanatos didn't want to kill Lucian's own men, especially when they were attacking him against their will.

The second–and the last–werewolf crumpled to the ground, injured and thankfully, unconscious. Now, all he had to deal with was this Pride fellow.

"Let me guess–you had some sort of mind control over them," the necromancer mused out loud, viridian eyes narrowing suspiciously at the russet haired man, garnet eyes returning the stare.

"In a way, yes," replied Pride, eyeing Thanatos's saber calmly, keeping his distance, "but I only need that for my human puppets. My other puppets…they need something else."

Before Thanatos could inquire what he exactly meant by that, he heard a whoosh and deftly rolled to the side, barely missing the sharp edge of a knife that was aimed for his ribs. He looked back, rather stunned to see a little girl holding a dagger. Waves of sorrel curls framed her delicate, porcelain face and her light brown eyes seemed so lifeless and were glossy as glass. Her entire countenance was blank and expressionless. The young child aimlessly gazed back at the Russian necromancer. For a moment, she seemed so real but those eyes…they were like a doll.

"One of your puppets, I presume?" remarked Thanatos nonchalantly, "Excellent craftsmanship, I must add."

This time, Pride's emotionless façade broke and he grinned proudly, walking over the living doll and gently stroked her hair. "Yes, Beata is one of my finest works of art. My sister always looked so innocent and sweet, she was blessed with good looks."

Thanatos stared at him pointedly. "Please don't tell me that's really your sister I'm seeing."

"Oh-no, this is just a replica of her, a dedication to her memory, as some would say. The real Beata is dead, rotting six feet under." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice, nostalgia even, but Thanatos didn't have time to analyze for the Beata puppet moved again and was flying right about him, knife in hand. He stepped left and pivoted out of reach, raising his saber up high and slashing at the doll's back. The girl quickly maneuvered herself away from his blade, pointing her dagger at him malignantly. Then, all of sudden, her arm elongated and rocketed itself straight towards the Russian necromancer. He barely evaded the clock-and-dagger trick but he wasn't quick enough to fully elude the attack. The dagger, meant for his heart, brushed brutally up his pectoralis major and past his shoulder. If he had didn't move fast enough, he would have had a knife buried in his heart or shoulder.

Ignoring the pain blazing in his chest and shoulder, Thanatos simply swung his sword around and brought the razor-sharp saber down on the extended arm of the Beata doll. The severed limb bounced carelessly to the ground and for an extra measure, he whirled around and kicked the puppet squarely in the face. The force didn't break the head but several deep and long cracks were already forming all over the doll's features. Before he could do more damage to the doll, she rapidly flew away from Thanatos and scrambled back to Pride's side. The assassin frowned as he inspected the damage, the fire burning more and more in his scarlet eyes.

"You're pitting wood against steel, boy," Thanatos commented tonelessly, sensing the time was near for him to assail again, "if you don't want your precious Beata getting ruined, you shouldn't have sent her out." Pride snapped his head around in his direction.

"I didn't expect you to put up much a fight after dealing with those two werewolves. Clearly, I was wrong." Thanatos didn't like how placid and collected his timbre sounded just now, especially when his eyes were crimson pools of rage. "But I won't make the same mistake twice."

As if on cue, two more puppets descended from the shadows, blades and other weapons in their hands. One was a teenager version of Beata, the other was a young adult Beata.

_Seems like someone is obsessed over__ the recollection of their dead sister…_

"Really, more dolls?" drawled out Thanatos, rolling his eyes to hopefully prick Pride's nerve, "Instead fighting with them, why don't you go play with them?"

Pride stared impassively back him, unmoved by his taunt. "The last man who said that to me ended up dead. I hope to repeat that. Beata, kill him!"

By his decree, the three Beata puppets lunged out at him, glossy eyes devoid of life and a soul, while their bodies and limbs were controlled by the strings of another.

* * *

"Lucian," said Raze, "Why cannot we attack the assassins now? They wouldn't suspect us if we all came out at once."

The said lycan fixed his stare back on his right-hand man and suppressed a sigh. No doubt Raze longed to fight and shred those assassins into tiny pieces but he also had his suspicions that his long-time friend and soldier was really worried about the well-being of a certain succubus.

"Raze," he began, locking eyes with him, "I promised Thanatos that neither I nor my men would get involved. As much as I want to engage combat myself, Thanatos made it specifically clear he and his entourage should fight the assassins to gain and earn my trust."

"Can you trust him, Lucian?" asked Sonja calmly. Lucian shrugged his shoulders.

"I have no idea. If they prevail, I will start to. However, I do want to learn more about him and find out why he seems to bear a grudge against Victor. He seems to know more about me than I do about him."

"I tried getting information out of one of his followers but the search proved fruitless," Sonja added, shaking her head at Magna's elusiveness. Not even she, a close member, knew for certain what Thanatos was after. And Sonja didn't like the sound of that.

"Somehow, I'm not shocked," murmured Lucian, getting up from his seat. "Raze, keep a watch for the battle. I'm going to check on Michael."

"Michael?" Puzzlement was written all over Sonja's face. "Who is he?"

"He is a human who carries the bloodline of Corvinus. He can successfully become a hybrid of the two species, vampire and werewolf."

Sonja's mind was reeling from this single piece of news, hardly able to believe such a person existed. She thought a hybrid of vampire and werewolf could only be created through an union akin to her and Lucian's but apparently, she was wrong. "Why do you need him?" The thought instantly came to her. "To defeat my father?"

He nodded. "Yes, and for past couple of days, we've been informing him off his new place amongst us, about the war and how it all began." The emotion was brief and fleeting but Sonja managed to catch the glimmer of past agony in her lover's deep smalt eyes.

_He still can't get over the memories my death even though I'm here now. I have to help him…help him heal and move on. I know he can, he's strong and resilient enough to overcome the past scars. _

She put her hand on his arm, beginning the steps towards recovery. "Don't let the past wear you down, Lucian," she told him softly, "I'm here now. I died once but I promise you, I won't let the same thing happen again."

This time, Lucian did smile. "I know you won't," he replied as he opened the door, letting her entire the room where they kept the Michael human in.

"Look, I told you guys a hundred times–I don't want to be a part of your damned war!"

Lucian faced the fuming, frustrated American doctor before him, resisting the urge to sigh. It was like this whenever he or another lycan would enter his room, he would demand to be released and then claim he wanted nothing to do with his war against the vampires.

"I am well aware of that, Michael," Lucian stressed calmly, wishing things were simpler–but then again, when was anything? "But if I let you go, there's a high possibility the vampires will kill you on sight or, if you're lucky, capture and interrogate you mercilessly. I cannot risk any information regarding me, my men, or this base falling into the vampires' hands."

"I won't tell anyone!" he protested, standing up from the wooden chair abruptly, light eyes demanding yet pleading. "I promise, no one will hear about this! I swear!"

"It's not your comrades we're concerned about, it's the vampires," interjected Sonja, snaring his attention, "You may say you won't say anything under interrogation but that's your naivety speaking for you. You have no idea what my father's coven is capable of, he could have you tortured if he knew how many secrets you possessed. And he'll kill you once you revealed everything to him because you can become both a vampire and a lycan, a threat to him and his authority."

"What, your father?" faltered the baffled doctor, glancing to and fro from Lucian to Sonja, "And who are you exactly?"

Sonja gave Michael a wry half-smile, almost as if she wanted to reassure his confused, troubled mind. "I am Sonja, daughter to Victor, one of the Elders of the Ordoghaz coven. I am the very reason for this war."

* * *

"A succubus?" repeated Kahn as they headed to the main meeting room between Death Dealers and other powerful members of the coven. Selene hoped Kraven wouldn't be there.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. My gut tells me she's with the lycans but as for the reasons why, I cannot say."

"Amelia might need more than that." The mentioning of Amelia halted Selene's pace immediately.

"Wait, Amelia is coming here?" she demanded, both eyebrows rose up in utter shock, "When? How long to we have for preparation until she arrives."

"About a day or so. She should be here tomorrow."

"Does she know about Markus?"

Kahn nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. From what I heard, she is considering the idea of awakening Victor to inform him of the dire news. If the lycans have Markus, we're going to need the entire force of the coven and Victor's guidance to win him back."

"Let me infiltrate their base, Kahn," argued Selene, "I know the location of their base, I can breach their defenses and retrieve Markus's tomb with a bundle of Death Dealers. It doesn't have to be a full-out frontal assault, it can be cloak-and-dagger and furtive, we won't alert them all of our presence."

"I would go with you, Selene, if the plan is approved. You better see what Amelia thinks of the idea when she arrives." Kahn answered after he had mulled her suggestion over.

"Hopefully she'll have more sense than Kraven. He'd shoot down my plan the instant he heard it." she grumbled, wholly relieved the said bureaucrat wasn't around to pester her or try to control her everyday actions. Of course, Amelia also came from the realm of politics and Selene knew if Amelia had other political motives in mind and her scheme to covertly infiltrate the lycans' lair and steal Markus back interfered with those motives, the female Elder could very well rejected her idea. Unless, of course, Victor was behind the notion.

_All the more reason he should be awakened. I can only hope it will be soon. Maybe then Kraven will stop hounding me. _

The two Death Dealers sat down in their respected chairs, waiting for the rest to arrive so they could begin to report the current situation and map out any strategies or battle plans against the rebel lycan army for the next assailment.

* * *

Even though their encounter had been somewhat brief and formal, Erika's head was still full of memories regarding the past moments she had spent with the gentleman Thanatos. He had helped her find a dress for Selene (it went far quicker than she had expected) and then, despite her protests, bought her that corbeau gown he thought would look lovely on her. After the purchases, both she and Thanatos had left the store, only to part ways soon. Thanatos said he had other business to intend to and was afraid he couldn't accompany her on her way back but Erika didn't mind much, she was use to it. Instead, he gave her his number in case she should ever need anything from him. On her walk back to the coven, Erika had to laugh at the fact that a stranger, someone she had just met, was showing her more kindness than Kraven ever did in his whole life. She was beginning to wonder if he was really worth the effort.

Just as she stepped into the foyer of the coven and was making her way towards Kraven's quarters, the said vampire appeared right around the corner.

"Erika, _finally_! How long does it take to find one measly dress?" he demanded, seizing the dress for Selene. He inspected the gown casually, not really paying much attention to it. Inside, Erika bristled. After all that browsing, he now was barely casting a real glance at the dress. She and Thanatos might as grabbed the first black dress they saw, size be damned.

"I'm sorry if I took so long shopping for a dress to your–and Selene's–liking," she responded snippily, resisting the urge to yell at him for his inconsiderate, thankless behavior. Kraven arched one brow at words, detecting the sarcasm in them.

"I didn't expect such attitude from you, Erika," he remarked snidely, cutting her an unhappy glare, "And I don't appreciate it. Curb your tongue next time. And when I want something fast, I expect it to arrive fast."

Frustration, ire, and indignation boiled in Erika's veins, churning and percolating inside her. All the times she carried out tasks for him without a word of compliant, doing everything in her power to get his attention or approval or a hint of affection. Instead, all she received was his indifference and angry words.

_No matter what I do, it's not enough!_

"**Has he shown you any gratitude at all?" **

Thanatos's words echoed hauntingly in her head, the truth mocking her left and right. She was tired of this, tired of all her failed attempts to gain Kraven's affinity, his love. _Maybe I should let it all go and stop pursuing him, just like Thanatos suggested. Maybe I'll be better off that way._

Rolling her shoulders back, Erika fixed her icy azure eyes squarely into Kraven's coal-black ones, realizing he wasn't nearly as attractive as she once that he was. For some reason, she suddenly liked the color green better.

"How about next time, Kraven, when you want a dress or something for Selene, _you get it yourself!_" She ended with a low, furious hiss, storming away right before she slammed the door shut behind her. She didn't even glance back over her shoulder to see his reaction.

Frankly, at that precise moment, Erika didn't give a damn.

* * *

The werewolf was angry, raging like a bull. Now, he had to be quick and clever. The battle had been dragged on long enough and he had to end it as soon as possible. The werewolf's judgment may be clouded with fury but the assassin Wrath still had the cunning of an animal. He would just have to outsmart Wrath then.

The lycan charged directly at him, jaws snapping and snarling, saliva flying out everywhere. Ukon dodged a swipe at his face, then one to his leg–which he then proceed to do a roundhouse kick into the growling lycan's mug. The creature whimpered but recovered fast, lunging at the Japanese swordfighter, attempting to tackle him to the ground. Ukon moved out of the way, slashing his katana at Wrath's side. There had to be a way to make him overstep his bounds, to create an opening for him to deliver the killing blow—

_There! The charge!_

It was simple, really. Wrath had fallen into the pattern of mindlessly charging at him and running past him, stopping a few seconds later to start again. Whether or not Wrath had lost control of his reasoning abilities due to his anger all Ukon had to now was wait, position himself and his sword correctly, and then react to whatever Wrath attempted next. He was trying to use brute force to win him victory and Ukon knew strength could be easily circumvented when you were cunning and quick.

Wrath, instead of charging him outright again, opted for a different approach. He first jumped against the wall, then to a broken, crumbling pillar of debris to finally spring off and head for Ukon. Despite the change in his attack pattern, Ukon was prepared. After all, steel cuts flesh, no matter how much muscle and bone was underneath. His katana came down in a deadly arc, the movements small and precise.

First slash, across the face, blinding the lycan assassin. Wrath howled in agonizing pain, stumbling through the rest of his assault. Ukon pivoted away from gawping jaws and brutal yet aimlessly range of his claws. He raised his katana again for the second strike.

Second slash, against thick muscles of his inner back legs and before Wrath could react, Ukon already sunk his blade into his side, slipping past the ribs and piercing the lungs. Streamlets of blood gushed out of the lacerations and Wrath's mouth and while hacking up his own lifeblood, the assassin slowly began transforming back to his human form, Ukon's katana still buried deep inside of him.

Ukon yanked his sword out of the dying man's torso, raising his weapon and long-time companion up high over his head. The assassin named Wrath was finished; there was no need to prolong his death anymore, especially when he was choking on his own pool of blood.

As Wrath coughed, moaned, and wheezed out curses, Ukon's katana sailed through the air effortlessly and embedding itself deep into the lycan's neck, severing the bone and flesh for good.

* * *

"Well, you aren't a pretty sight when you shed off your human form," snickered Blanca at her opponent Gluttony, "And pun intended, snake lady."

A few minutes ago, Gluttony finally lost her temper after many failed attempts to kill and incinerate Blanca (and not necessarily in that order) and shifted into her true, demonic shape–which wasn't the most comely picture on the planet. She had an extremely distorted, misshapen face, teeth stained with fresh blood while from the waist down, she had the body of a snake. Gluttony was indeed a descendent of Lamia.

"How dare you insult me, shapeshifter?" spat Gluttony, dark eyes aflame with fury, "I'll kill you and your mate, devour your children, and then your womb!"

Blanca wrinkled her nose at the demon. "My, my, aren't you in a bitchy mood today. First off, I had no children for you to eat–as if I'd let you near them if I had any. Secondly, you're getting nowhere near my womb, and thirdly, only no one but me touches my man. Understood?"

As she spoke claws already had replaced her fingernails as she stalked Gluttony, ready for anything the demon threw at her. Gluttony hissed at her words and dived immediately at her, twisted face screaming with rage. Blanca quickly changed into a bird and flew out of reach, then shifted into lioness, landing behind her to attack her back. Gluttony shrieked, flailing her body around until she managed to fling the Spanish shapeshifter off her. Blanca crashed to the floor, ignoring the slight stings wracking all over her body. When the Lamia-esque demon turned around to face and attack her again, Blanca rapidly changed into a horsefly, flying out of sight, much to the outrage of Gluttony.

"You get back here, whore! I want you dead! Fight me now!" she roared and hissed, serpentine tail smacking against the hard cement ground in a furious gesture. Blanca simply simpered to herself and buzzed around Gluttony's head, determining her next move. She had to do something soon before the assassin realized that the fly over her head could potentially be her and bring out her fly swatter.

_Thankfully, her constant whining and screeching is droning out my buzzing. _

As Blanca flew a little bit over her face, a brilliant idea sparked inside her head. Why doesn't she blind the bitch and then finish her off while she's preoccupied?

_Lo__oks like there's one nasty bite coming up!_

In a second she was on Gluttony's eyes, biting down hard on her eyelids. The next second, she was fluttering away to escape the relentless writhing and squirming of the whimpering, shrieking demon. Once she saw her chance, Blanca transformed back into a lioness and with a triumphant growl, lurched forward and violently mauled the demon mistress, her blood, flesh, and pained cries tasting so delicious and refreshing to the shapeshifter's ears and mouth.

* * *

The pain of others (and sometimes his own) always gave him great pleasure and never failed to titillate him. Of course, the sound of Blanca dispatching that demon bitch was music to his ears and he made sure Greed would be suffering from her demise.

"What a shame, Greed. So much for her Lamia ancestry." he jeered, dodging another jet stream of fire sent by the said assassin.

"Oh, you're just asking to die!" growled Greed fiercely, loading his gun and firing. Jacob easily flicked one of his whips to deflect some of the bullets but a few managed to escape the blockade. One grazed his cheek and the other skimmed near the calf of his leg. The demon assassin then started running towards him, shooting away but Jacob merely laughed and cackled and snapping his spiked whips at his assailant.

"And I'd say you're _begging _to die, Greed."

The tip of his whip slapped the demon across the face, sending him reeling back into a mountain of broken, chipped bricks and cement blocks. Scowling, Greed began and then struggled to stand up. Then in an instant, his enraged face changed into one of astonishment and confusion. Jacob smirked, waiting for the realization to settle in before he made his move.

"How…what…I can't feel my legs!" blurted out Greed, toiling away to move his feet and prop them up. "I can barely feel my arms now… What did you do, you bastard?"

"If you paid closer attention to my whips, you would have noticed something very peculiar about them," drawled out Jacob drolly, slowly approaching the abruptly paralyzed assassin, "Every time I go into battle, I coat the spikes on my whips with either poison or some paralyzing agents. Obviously, you're feeling its effects, despite the fact you are of demon breed." He wrapped one whip around his left ankle and twisted it back until he heard a sickening crack and a howl of pain. He then went to the right ankle and did the same procedure again. He repeated this process to more times with both of Greed's wrists, relishing the detrimental cries he wrought from the wounded assassin's lips. "And that's to make sure you don't crawl away."

"What do you plan to do with me now? Leave me for lycan food?" spewed Greed, orange eyes full of loathing and rage. Jacob cocked his head as if he was mulling that option over.

"Tempting but I don't want to give Lucian's men a stomachache. Besides, I have something far more devious in mind." Dropping one whip, he bent down and touched Greed's left foot, a sadistic light in his endless onyx eyes. There was crackle and beautiful, bright flames of cerise, yellow, and amber burst out of thin air and began hungrily devouring Greed's foot.

As the demon assassin tried his best not to scream or holler, Jacob simply stared casually into the fire, saying, "It's too bad we don't have any meat to cook. We could have had ourselves a splendid bonfire."

* * *

Magna was nearing the end of her limit. She barely at any energy left from all that dodging, ducking, and raising shields. "I have to find a way to end this," she mumbled, sending another bolt of lightning to keep Sloth busy. She heard a string of oaths and while crouched, waddled away from her original hiding spot and secured herself behind another mound of rocks and debris. Soon enough, Sloth was over to her previous spot and merely chuckled at the vacant space.

"You can't hide forever, witch!" he yelled out, gun in hand, "Even people like you have their limits. When I'll find you, I'll beat you over the head with your own staff!"

_Not likely. I'll shove my staff right up your arse, you insolent whippersnapper!_

"Well, since I don't have enough stamina to finish him off, I'm just going to have to call for help," whispered Magna to herself, using the last of her strength and energy to issue a summoning call. Weakness and fatigue entered her body but she refused to surrender until she saw four scamps appearing in a blaze of a bright, fawn luminesce, all eyes fixed on the stunned, flabbergasted human assassin who cocked his gun and immediately fired upon them in a rapid, frenetic manner.

"Go get him, you little buggers!" decreed Magna feebly, letting her eyes rest as her four dutiful scamps chased Sloth down and began their deadly, relentless assault, claws and all.

* * *

Sweat dripped off Edward's nose, brow, hair, and face as he turned around to face his worn-down but defiant opponent. Minutes had dragged by albeit they seemed to be hours to him. He launched forward again, delivering a right hook to her face and then kneeing her in the stomach while in return, she managed to rotate around and elbow him in the ribs. He ignored the flickering pain and gave a sweeping kick to her legs, knocking her balance and sending Envy sprawling on the floor. But she rolled away from danger just in time to avoid a fatal blow on his part.

_Dammit, I have to end this fight__ soon before I get too exhausted and drop my guard, allowing her penetrate that weakness. _

Of course, there was one way to throw her off and use the element of surprise as an advantage: Use his demonic strength and allow his demon side to have more effect over his being. The vampire assassin would never see this coming and plus, he could use those few seconds of shock to render her dead.

_All it would take is just a couple of seconds. That's all I need._

"_Merde_**(4)**, I'm going to have to end this now if I want to come back in one piece," half-joked Envy, wincing briefly as she relocated her shoulder.

"Go ahead. Just try and stop me."

With that said, Edward unleashed his demonic powers and embraced his demon blood. His nails darkened into a shade of charcoal grey and elongated until they resembled thick, deadly blades, the tips sharp as any axe, sword, or butcher knife. Two enormous horns, pitch black as the darkest, emptiest, and starless night sky and polished like solid marble sprouted from his head, curving forwards before rocketing upward in wicked, pointed arc. Even the tips of his horns gleaned dangerously, honed to shred and tear anyone apart. But the most astounding and majestic part of him were his wings. They were bat-like and a mixture of ebony and burgundy, billowing outwards in tantamount to a regal cape of darkness. Smooth, glossy, and jagged pinions just added to the surreal, demonic mien of Edward Van Helsing as his inky eyes changed into a startling hue of deep amber orange that was color of Hell's flames.

When Edward, a symbol of an union between vampire and demon, cut his fiery, hellish gaze upon Envy, the assassin bent on killing him, he knew she was dead the moment he beheld her aghast face. He moved towards her and she prepared to block and strike back, didn't anticipate the amazing, silent speed gifted to one who summons both his vampiric and demonic ancestry to take over. He was on Envy faster than one could blink and with one sweeping motion of his arm, he knocked her head clean off, letting it bounce away onto the muddied floor and roll into the shadows. The headless body collapsed in an instead, near the severed head of Envy, who hollow eyes showed fear and shock during her last few seconds among the living.

"You should have used your guns. You might have lived longer." muttered the demon-vampire hybrid as he strolled away from the scene of battle.

* * *

Thanatos never liked dolls but he never found them irksome until now. Even though he could successfully block and parry all their attacks but there would always be one to try to stab him in the back. The three puppets consistently attempted to corner and surround him but Thanatos knew this game of puppeteer more than Pride was fully aware of.

Brandishing his saber, he cut left, slashing the teenage Beata's face while elbowing the little child Beata doll in the chest. He then whirled around to hack the limbs off the adult Beata, hoping to disable her mobility. He managed to sever one leg and arm before he was back on the defensive, retreating and moving around to prevent himself from being surrounded. The littlest doll came at him once more, the remaining arm still wielding the knife. He blocked the knife, bringing the blade down the wooden wrist, breaking it clean off. He then raised his saber up high and brought it savagely down on the youngest Beata's head, splitting the doll in two.

_One down, two more to go. _

As if the other two puppets were surged forward by Pride's subtle rage over the destruction of Beata the First, the two other Beatas assailed him from both sides. Thanatos hopped backwards, dodging the cleaver the teenage Beata was flourishing but was unfortunately brutally poked (yet luckily not skewered) by the giant, rusty pitchfork by the adult Beata. Growling at the pain, the necromancer grabbed the pitchfork and pulled the doll towards him with all his might. The pull was a deep, strenuous struggle; he could feel Pride's control resisting his physical strength. While he tugged, he noticed out of the corner of eye the teenage Beata coming around behind, the cleaver glinting menacingly high in midair. Calculating the distance, Thanatos kicked the doll viciously, satisfied when he heard an ear-splitting crack, the dissonance of hard wood breaking against a forceful impact and solid cement. He then released his hold on the pitchfork, causing the older Beata doll to stumble back, as if both she and Pride were shocked by this move. Those few seconds of surprise were all Thanatos needed.

Lunging, he parried the weapon, sank the edge of his saber into chest and neck of the adult Beata doll. The puppet slowly began to crumple to the ground and Thanatos wrenched his sword silently out its wooden corpse, approaching Pride slowly. Meanwhile, he could hear the stirrings of the fallen Beata puppets–both the teenage and adult versions–but he paid them no mind. There was only one quick, sure way to end this puppet show and that was to kill the puppeteer. Thanatos drew out of his rosary, sheathing his saber as he did so. Both hands lovingly caressed and stroked the besmirched cross and beaded black necklace. There lied his true power.

"You are fool, Pride, to challenge the puppet master to game of dolls and puppets. I know how to end the show and rend your precious Beatas useless."

Pride merely smirked. "Ah, by taking me out. I'd like to see you try."

Thanatos felt the rosary grow longer with each passing second, by his will and mind. "I won't try, I will succeed." He heard the clanking sounds of the two remaining Beatas slowly pulling themselves together. "By the way, instead of fighting us first, Pride, you should have done a little research first."

Pride's smirk twisted up into a condescending, haughty sneer. "Oh, really? Why is that?"

"Because if you did, you would have known what I am capable of." The rosary, now over six feet long, exploded out of Thanatos's pocket, cruising through the air and heading straight towards the assassin. Right hand grasping the end of the rosary, Thanatos navigated the cross until it squarely landed on Pride's forehead, freezing his movements instantly. This time, the Russian necromancer was the one to smirk.

"As a necromancer, I can not only resurrect the dead and give them new life but also take life, the very essence of living." Thanatos felt Pride's quintessence steadily draining out of him and going into his body, his potency, his lifespan. He felt the assassin's soul resisting and almost laughed. Resistance in this situation was futile; he was called "The Reaper of All Souls" for a reason.

"And one more thing I must add before it's lights out for you, Pride," remarked Thanatos casually once he experienced the last of his foe's essence pouring into him, leaving Pride hollow and with very little life and energy left, "I can also return a man's soul…or take it from him."

When Pride's lackluster, dazed maroon eyes widen with terror and shock, Thanatos knew he had him exactly where he wanted. As the remaining puppets dropped to the floor like dead flies, Thanatos utilized his necromancy powers to reach deep inside Pride's spirit and tear his soul from his body, casting his bloody, sinful soul into the damned abyss. Thanatos had no use for souls belonging to those who tried to kill him. He never wanted a raging spirit or ghost coming back with vengeance. That's why he banished them for good, unless he discovered a use for them in the near future.

After all, he was the Grim Reaper, the master of death and life, the ferryman between the dead and the living. The world would be his oyster, his domain. He wouldn't have to answer to any man, dead or alive, while he was in control of his own fate. The world couldn't touch him; he was Thanatos Itzal Wakahisa, the Reaper of All Souls, mankind's most renowned necromancer.

And he would have his revenge.

* * *

The room around them was filled with jumping, crawling spiders and darting, screeching birds of prey while two sex demons, an incubus and succubus, pounced and tackled each other, nails and teeth raking each other's skin, attempting to sink their aphrodisiac venom into the other. And when they weren't wrestling each other, torn between duty and their natural sexual tendencies, they would sic their pets on each other.

Clarissa tore the wings off a golden eagle with a rabid scream, hurtling the abused, dying creature aside while Lust tore a spider in half with his bare hands. The sexual frustration and rage of their beloved animals' suffering was slowly gnawing on them and Clarissa was losing her patience. She wanted to end this battle, craved to have him on knees and under her control. She needed him alive–he could have information on who wanted them dead. After all, a living man had more secrets and news than a dead one.

_All right, how can I get close to him without him knowing or sending his horde of birdbrains after me? A little distraction might help keep the birds away…_

With her mental link to her spiders, she ordered several of the smaller ones to begin spinning a web around Lust while directing her giant spiders to assault the birds and distract Lust from noticing what was betiding down blow, near his feet. And while all that was going on, Clarissa was putting the last bit piece of her plan in place. Even though Lust was an incubus, he was still a man and Clarissa knew what all men's weakness was.

"Oh, Lust," she called out in a sing-song voice, catching his attention, "I have a present for you!"

Just when his eyes met hers, she slid off the straps and her pure white dress came sliding down her slender, voluptuous frame and gracefully pooled around her ankles. Sending him a come-hither look, she put her hands on her hips and struck a sensuous, enticing pose. Lust's eyes were practically bulging out of its sockets as he leered at her naked body, from the breasts down to the patch of dark brown hair between her thighs. She crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to come. Just by the look on his helpless face she knew she had him. As he took a step forward, the spiders had finished spinning the web and the gossamer shackles snapped around him, catching him off guard and causing him to fall. Clarissa immediately pounced on him and wrapped her hands around his throat, positioning her nails right up against the nape of his neck.

"Now, Lust," she purred, "Be a good boy, call off your pets, and surrender, and I promise you'll get some loving. I mean it." He glowered at her and the succubus returned with a pout, and for good measure, gave her bottom a little wiggle. She felt him stiffen and harden beneath her and Clarissa grinned, sensing he would crack sooner or later. In an instant, the glower vanished and was replaced with a sheepish, carnal expression.

"Ah, fuck it," grunted Lust in resignation, "I want a piece of your ass, honey. I surrender."

* * *

When Thanatos and his cohorts had reconvened and went to go search for Clarissa, they discovered all the birds and spiders gone, leaving a very nude Clarissa straddling a highly pleased incubus underneath.

"Clarissa," began Thanatos, pinching the bridge of his nose, "What are you doing?"

The succubus flashed him a saucy smile. "Subduing him, Master. He surrendered to me so we can ask him questions about his employer." Lust jerked his head up, a frown on his face.

"Hey, I just thought we would be having sex," he protested, adding, "And I'll answer nothing!" His burnet eyes glared fiercely at Thanatos and his followers and unbeknownst to them, furtively slipped one hand (hidden from plain sight) into the pocket of his pants and withdrawing a small object.

"Who do you work for?" demanded Thanatos immediately, "Answer now or else I turn you over to Jacob." Jacob beamed manically, his dusky orbs alight with bloodlust and delight. He looked like a kid in candy store.

"I never tortured an incubus before…perhaps I should start with his balls!" he exclaimed feverishly, grabbing Blanca roughly and she giggled, plastering herself right up against his body.

"Can I help?" she asked him in a faux innocent voice, peering up at him through her eyelashes in a beseeching manner. He nodded and she gave him an aggressive, passionate kiss as a reward. Clarissa's lips curled up in an irked, displeased fashion.

"No way. You two aren't touching this man. He's mine and that's final. If it's answers you seek, Master Thanatos, I'll get it from him." She glanced back down to face Lust and noticed there was something wrong. He was smirking triumphantly at her, at them all, and when he grabbed her face to steal one last kiss, Clarissa reckoned straightaway they missed something and Lust had something they didn't know.

After when the kiss was over, he told to her, "I just wanted one final kiss from a gorgeous woman before I die." He then opened his mouth and horror zipped through Clarissa when she beheld the small capsule. It was a tiny vial of cyanide, ready to be swallowed.

"No!" she screamed, grabbing his jaw and throat, trying to prevent him to swallow. Thanatos and the others were right beside her, helping her keeping the mouth open and the throat, trachea, and larynx blocked off. Lust fought back, pushing Clarissa off while sending his predatory birds to attack the others to keep them occupied. Clarissa tried to use her spiders to ward the distraction away, yet it was too late. When the birds cleared away or dropped dead, they understood why. Lust was on the ground, turning various shades of blue while truculently quaking and convulsing, his once attractive face stiffening up. The death was almost instantaneous; the event lasted no longer than few seconds. By then, the corpse had stopped juddering and was still and silent, cyanotic.

"Well, that was uneventful," remarked Jacob, a bit miffed that he didn't get the chance to torture the incubus, "He could at least have send some interesting last words besides wanting a piece of Clarissa."

Thanatos, ignoring everyone else, walked up to the cyaneous cadaver, rosary in hand. "It doesn't matter. I can still bring him back and all the answers we seek."

Clarissa looked up at the necromancer hopefully. "And can you bring him back all nice and handsome? The blue doesn't suit his skin at all, Master."

Thanatos sighed exasperatedly but conceded. "Fine, Clarissa. After when I'm done, I'll be certain–with Magna's help–that he returns to us as good as new."

_And good luck explaining your new sex slave to Raze._

* * *

"_Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,  
So do our minutes hasten to their end;  
Each changing place with that which goes before,  
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.  
Nativity, once in the main of light,  
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,  
Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight,  
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.  
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth  
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,  
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,  
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:  
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,  
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.__"_

_**-Sonnet 60, **_William Shakespeare

* * *

**Word Terms/Glossary:**

**(1) **_jukeisha_- a recent Japanese honorific used for the convicted or criminals

**(2) **_copine_- chum [French]

**(3) **_salopard_- bastard [French]

**(4) **_merde_- damn [French]

**Color Glossary:**

Cramoisy- crimson

Atrous- jet black

Puccoon- dark red

Smalt- dark blue

Sorrel- reddish brown

Corbeau- blackish green

Burnet- dark brown

Cyaneous- sky blue

So yay, another chapter done! My longest one yet—14 or 15 (with Verdana, point 9 font) pages, give or take.

Now, some of you might have been expecting the battle scenes to be longer but since these were more assassination attempt fight scenes, in reality, they had to be short. Most of my OCs, save for Jacob and Blanca, wouldn't draw the fight out unless it would be more of their advantage (ex: stalling, tiring their opponent out, etc.). Thus, that's why some combat scenes were so short, like Ukon's, for instance. Since he was born, raised, and trained to be an assassin, Ukon prefers to get the job done quickly and efficiently. I'd go on but I'd wait in case anyone has any questions regarding the fights that I haven't thought of. Again, I wanted to make the battles as realistic as possible so hopefully, I did well.

By the way, is anyone here afraid of Jacob? Likes/dislikes Jacob because he's out of his fucking mind? Or is there someone else you like/dislike (for example, Clarissa and her philandering ways?)? Feel free to let me know! I like hearing feedback about my characters.

For the last note, the next chapter will be chronologically parallel to this chapter and last chapter. The next update will take place in Catherine's house and you will learn a little bit more about the fate of Markus!

As for reviews, I totally forgot in the last chapter to thank the reviews so I'm going to cover reviews for both chapter seven and six.

**Chapter six:** I would like to thank Tu Es Chicago, Celtic Aurora, morgan12149, Cryostylz, and keili77 for reviewing! I appreciate hearing from you guys!

**And for chapter seven:** Thank you Celtic Aurora for still reviewing even after the long, arduous wait. You are always my constant, loyal fan and reviewer!

So readers, review, fave, alert, critique, or whatever strikes your fancy. I hope to see you guys around for chapter nine! Adieu!

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_

P.S. If you want to know more about the Seven Deadlies and why some assassins were demons, humans, etc., ask me via review or PM.


	9. IX: Hidden Intentions

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**Chapter IX:** _Hidden Intentions _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Sonnet 14" by William Shakespeare

"I Remembered" by Sara Teasdale

**A/N: *SPOILER ALERT!* **This chapter contains major spoilers to the future plot of my friend, **Celtic Aurora**'s story, _Dark Ripples in Blood. _So if you don't want to know what happens later on…well, you probably don't want to hear Catherine's story (so maybe skip that part?) or not bother reading this chapter at all. Your choice, I forewarned you.

**Disclaimer: Nothing of the Underworld series belongs to me. End of story. Now, let's move along.**

* * *

"_Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,  
And yet methinks I have astronomy,  
But not to tell of good, or evil luck,  
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality,  
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell;  
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,  
Or say with princes if it shall go well  
By oft predict that I in heaven find.  
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,  
And constant stars in them I read such art  
As truth and beauty shall together thrive  
If from thy self, to store thou wouldst convert:  
Or else of thee this I prognosticate,  
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date."_

_**-Sonnet 14, **_William Shakespeare

* * *

"So," began Catherine, staring inquisitively at the huge, archaic, charcoal tomb of a vampire Elder that was lying casually in her living room, "Why is there a sleeping Elder in my room? Also, what are we going to do with him?"

"Not _we, _but _me_," corrected Zael, studying the slumbering Markus meticulously, "I had hoped he would have gone in the basement but I'll let Bristol take care of that later."

"Why me?" yelped Bristol indignantly.

"Because you took your sweet ole time teleporting Markus and me when I could have been caught and our entire plan would have been all for naught," came the stinging, cool reply. Bristol crossed her arms, "hmphing" as she did so and would have disappeared to pout if Zael didn't add: "And please don't go off to sulk. We still need you."

"Could use some more appreciation," grumbled the witch, shooting daggers at her blonde comrade.

"But why do you need Markus? As leverage against Victor?" queried Catherine, millions of questions swarming in her head as she looked back and forth from Bristol and Zael. That was only logical reason she could understand why these two strange women abducted one of the Elders of the Ordoghaz coven. She thought they would have gone for Victor but instead, they choose Markus. Did they, perhaps, they held a grudge against him?

Zael nodded, bandaging the small wound she had made in order to feed the vampire Elder. "Bristol and I have our own purposes but both of us want to bend Victor to our will." Catherine waited for her to continue but she said nothing else. The fallen angel-vampire hybrid then turned to Bristol for more answers, hoping the witch could sense her inquisitiveness. Then, as if on cue, Bristol picked up right where Zael left off.

"Well, I need this scribe of Victor to give me information and as for Zael…" she trailed off, noticing the warning look the said woman sent her, "Well, she has her own reasons for getting back at Victor."

"But why not instead take Victor? He's clearly the man you're after." Catherine interjected, puzzled. Zael snapped her head around to face her.

"Where's the fun in that?" responded Zael darkly, a shadow cast over her staid visage and icy blue eyes, "I have a score to settle with both of them and what's better than turning one Elder against the other?"

Catherine hoped for a deeper explanation but judging from what she already knew about Zael and her personality, she had a feeling this woman wouldn't divulge much information to her. Bristol, on the other hand, was the person to go to for answers–for the most part.

"What do you mean?" chimed in Michael, who had poked his head to hear more of their conversation. His younger sister, Cordelia, was also listening.

"Glad you asked!" exclaimed Bristol, beaming broadly. She always adored the chance to show off her magical prowess. "When Zael went to retrieve Markus, she cast a specific spell that I created to bind this Elder to us. Now normally, people with no magical talent in their blood couldn't perform the enchantment but I perfected it so it would work with anyone who possessed a talisman carrying a magical charm or ingredient. Thus, Zael was able to recite the spell with no problem at all as long as she wore that enchanted pendant around her neck." she finished proudly.

"And does this spell allow you to control Markus?" queried Catherine. The brunette witch nodded.

"Zael is really the one who can command him because she gave him some of her blood, which is the main ingredient that binds their souls together," Bristol added, looking quite pleased at her handiwork, "I can't wait to see his face when he realizes what we've done!"

An amused, small smile found its way on Catherine's face. _I daresay so can I. _

"So tell us, Mrs. Van Helsing," Zael began formally, her wintry gaze intensely zoning in on her, "How do you know Lucian? What brought you two together?" For some reason, Zael's azure eyes–so frosty, so deadly, they reminded Catherine of frozen water in the mountains–unnerved Catherine and for a moment, she wondered if Zael was really human or not. But she shoved that musing aside and answered Zael's question.

"Well, that story is a long one," the young mother started, taking seat. Her two children, Michael and Cordelia joined them. They already knew the tale but wanted to hear it again. After all, stories, pictures, and memories were all they had of their father, the man they never knew. "It all began when my husband, Edward, and I went to Victor's coven as dignitaries. We knew the cost of our true identities being uncovered but we were sent on a mission from my employers. They wanted us to infiltrate the Ordoghaz coven and report our findings to them as often as we could. Sometimes, it was rather difficult poking our noses around there without getting everyone suspicious–especially when you had a lecherous vampire hounding at your heels." An image of Kraven flashed instantly in Catherine's head and she grimaced, pure and utter loathing swelling up inside her heart, the very reason why Edward couldn't be with her and the children, the catalyst that commenced the whole disaster that lead to Cordelia and Michael never having a father present. She hadn't heard from Edward in centuries, she wasn't certain whether or not he had fend the assassins off and was keeping her location a secret by not getting in contact with her or maybe, for all she knows, he could have been killed and his remains were left unprotected, unmourn. This thought chilled Catherine to the bone, she didn't want ponder about her husband's potential death, no matter how likely the possibility was. She still had hope, and she wanted that hope to remain in her children as well.

"Unfortunately, that same vampire, found out about our true natures and threatened to reveal our secret to Victor if I didn't do something for him," resumed Catherine, the sordid memories rushing back to her like a surreal, distant phantasmagoria, a slideshow of her past.

"**Listen to me, Catherine," drawled out Kraven, his inky eyes sparkling lewdly at her and bile immediately rose in Catherine's throat. "If you come and spend the night with me, I'll be sure to turn a blind eye to you and your husband's actions and keep your secret to myself." One hand captured a lock of her brown hair, rubbing it between his fingertips. He grinned smugly at her, the lascivious look never leaving his face as he heightened the proximity between, backing Catherine against the wall. "So, what do you say?" **

**Just when he was about touch her cheek, Catherine's hand came flying out of nowhere, slapping his hand aside. Her sapphire blue orbs were alight with indignant fire and fury. "I say you should take a long walk off a short cliff!" she snapped, fuming. "You think I'll be unfaithful to Edward, my wonderful husband? You're even dumber than you look, Kraven." **

**Kraven's triumphant smirk melted abruptly, his pale face turning an ugly shade of puce while a chilling hue of electric blue replaced his dark pools of jet black. "You're pretty defiant for someone who's inches away from having their head on the chopping block," he snarled, miffed by Catherine's blunt rejection, "You obviously don't care about your life or your family's, I take it. Let's see how bold and brash you are when you watch your precious brat slowly die right before your very own eyes!"**

**Furious glints of deep, deadly garnet blazed brilliantly in Catherine's eyes, ire rolling off her in waves as she heard this threat. With no thought of her own security, her hand rolled up tightly into a fist and smacking itself straight into Kraven's jaw, satisfied to hear a solid cracking sound and muffled howl of pain. Kraven stumbled back, but not before she whirled around to plant her foot into his solar plexus. **

"**Let that be a lesson to you, Kraven, to never, **_**ever**_**, issue threats against me or my family," she spat, irises still vivid and bright as blood. Kraven cut her a dirty glare, a murderous, wrathful aura cloaking him as he wiped off a dribble of blood from his cut lip. **

"**You'll regret this!" he hissed, a promise of revenge glimmering in his pupils. "Mark my words, Catherine, you will be wishing you had accepted my offer." **

**Shoving her brusquely aside, he stormed out of the room, leaving Catherine alone to ponder and worry over the fate of her family and the mission. **

"Let me guess: You refused his proposal," remarked Zael dryly. Catherine nodded her head.

"Yes, but somehow, the vampire–Kraven was his name–managed to kidnap one of the coven's top Death Dealer and hide him away before he killed him and dumped his corpse into my and Edward's chambers. We were blamed for his death and no matter how many times we denied the charges and offered evidence, no one believed us. Once Kraven told Victor of our hybrid heritage, he went completely berserk and sent his Death Dealers and assassins to hunt us down. There was a particular batch of assassins he had hired to kill us and Edward split up with me so he could distract them and lead them off our trail. I never saw him again after that so I don't know if he was successful or not."

There was a wistful, lonely catch in her timbre as she finished her shortened story, her lapis lazuli eyes distant and forlorn, as if she was off in another world and seeing Edward's face again.

**His warm, rough lips were pressed up passionately against her pleading mouth, his hands tangling themselves fiercely in her dark brown tresses, his heart and soul pouring themselves into every touch, every kiss, every caress. **

"**I love you, gel," he murmured as they kissed, tasting her tears as they rolled down her cheeks, "We will be together again, just you wait. No man, human or not, can keep us apart." He kissed her again, this one more ardent and desperate than the others. Catherine knew the meaning of this kiss and for that reason, she clung to him harder, wishing there was another way and she didn't have let her beloved husband go.**

**Breaking away, Edward's hand stroked her face tenderly and then, in a flash, he was gone, disappearing into the night, his coat flapping madly behind him as he raced to confront the hired blades. **

Then the dreamy, far-off expression vanished and the fallen angel-vampire hybrid returned back to reality, becoming her usual pragmatic, insightful self again.

"And that is my story," Catherine ended plainly, pinning her gaze on the two travelling companions, "Later, I encountered Lucian while I was on the run and he had pity on me and my plight. He offered shelter to me, Michael, and Cordelia, who had yet to be born. Without him, I don't know what I would have done." she added, pausing to take in a deep breath as she combated anymore unsavory memories away prior to resuming.

"Eve now I still keep in touch with Lucian but it's usually once or twice a month. In fact, I'm due to check on him soon, so if you want, I can bring you along to meet him."

"That would beneficial, Mrs. Van Helsing," Zael responded promptly, nodding approvingly, "the sooner, the better."

"I concur," said Catherine, "but please, call me Catherine."

* * *

"_There never was a mood of mine,  
Gay or heart-broken, luminous or dull,  
But you could ease me of its fever  
And give it back to me more beautiful.  
In many another soul I broke the bread,  
And drank the wine and played the happy guest,  
But I was lonely, I remembered you;  
The heart belong to him who knew it best.__"_

_**-I Remembered, **_Sara Teasdale

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Puce- brownish purple

Lapis lazuli- blue

There you go, ladies and gentlemen! Now I have caught up with all the characters and their plans, I can go forward in time now. I'm going to try to be more diligent with my updates (and not get distracted by watching episodes of _Friends_) so I can have a lot of progress done on this story before I go back to college. Already I have several of the impending chapters mapped out so hopefully, that helps.

Also, in case some people are confused, there _are_ two different Michaels running around in this fanfic. Long story but there was no way avoiding it. Rora's Michael was already named way before this fanfic and her _**Dark Ripples in Blood **_fanfic came into being.

And I'd like to give thanks to Celtic Aurora for her lovely review! I know I can always count on you for feedback.

One more thing before I depart. Since I have a lot of OCs running about, do you think it would be easier for anyone to keep track of all the characters in the story so far (both OCs and regular Underworld characters) if I created a character index—kind of what George Martin does in his "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. Let me know what you guys think.

Over and out,

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_


	10. X: On the Whims of Fate

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**Chapter X:** _On the Whims of Fate _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Iron" by Within Temptation

"Ain't Your Fairytale"-Sonata Arctica

**Disclaimer: Len Wiseman, why you no let me own Underworld?**

* * *

"_Left in the darkness  
Here on your own  
Woke up a memory  
Feeding the pain  
You cannot deny it  
There's nothing to say  
It's all that you need to fire away_

_Oh damn, the war is coming_  
_Oh damn, you feel you want it_  
_Oh damn, just bring it on today_

_You can't live without the fire_  
_It's the heat that makes you strong_  
_'Cause you're born to live and fight it all the way_  
_You can't hide what lies inside you_  
_It's the only thing you know_  
_You'll embrace it and never walk away_  
_Don't walk away."_

_**-Iron, **_Within Temptation

* * *

The next day had arrived quicker than Selene imagined as she got dressed and ready for the upcoming meeting with Amelia. She already had a plan to present to the Elder and hoped she would take her side rather than listen to Kraven's blather. Kraven had barged into the Death Dealer meeting yesterday and shot down every one of Selene's theories and plans, saying this obsession of hers could get many valuable soldiers killed. If they weren't in such a public setting, Selene would have pistol-whipped Kraven and then shoot him in the face. It was those moments where Selene sorely missed Tanis's company.

_I'd trade Kraven for Tanis in any given day, despite the slanders he issued against Victor. Tanis I can tolerate. Kraven I cannot._

"Selene!"

_And speak of the devil. _

"What, Kraven?" she spoke sharply, turning around so Kraven could see her irate expression. He was lucky she didn't have her two automatic pistols with her or else she might give into the temptation of turning Kraven into Swiss cheese.

"I know what you're going to say to Amelia, Selene," Kraven began, his oily tone disapproving and irked, "The idea of infiltration…it's far too risky. You yourself have said you don't know how many lycans are down there, in that sewer. They could outnumber us ten to one and yet you still want to waltz over them like a businessman on a holiday!"

"I had no idea you were so cowed in facing an army of lycans," retorted Selene venomously, quietly enjoying the faint cerise color of rage creeping on his face, "Perhaps playing the bureaucrat has soiled your strength, Kraven. Can you even use your sword at all or as that rusted too, along with your skills as a warrior?"

Unfathomable pools of rage boiled in the vampire's eyes, onyx rapidly changing to a chilling celeste. He bristled, looking like he was ready to explode. "_You_," he hissed, "_will __**not**__ mock me!_"

His hand then came flying out and smacked itself against her cheek so hard and brusquely Selene felt her head swerve to other side. The pain flared all over her face, aching and throbbing so agonizingly as if to remind her of Kraven's might. She grimaced, ignoring the fiery sting as Kraven brushed past her, muttering furiously underneath his breath.

Pivoting around and walking forward, Selene knew this was only the beginning of Kraven's wrath. Once she enters the meeting and tells Amelia her battle plan, Kraven would do everything in his power to rend her idea apart. He was trying to control her and her movements, whether with words or force, and probably hoped he could achieve that with aid from Amelia.

Selene's eyes narrowed at the very thought of that. _But I won't allow that to betide._

Kraven wouldn't win this next battle, not if she could help it!

* * *

"Is everyone expected at today's assembly here?" Amelia questioned perfunctorily, her authoritative gaze sweeping the entire room, studying and analyzing each and every member's face.

One of Victor's men, Kahn as he was called, stood up and nodded. "Yes, Amelia. All have arrived." He sat back down. Pleased, Amelia commenced the meeting.

"As you all know, one of my own peers, Markus, has been taken from us. Right under our noses, it appears." she began coldly, shooting an accusing glare at those who had been on security duty during the time the crime happened. "I want him to be found immediately. However, I also feel Victor should be aware of these troubling times. Hence, I believe I should awaken him, even those it is against the rules. This is great emergency and as an Elder and a great warrior and leader, Victor will understand."

Silence flooded the conference room and each member glanced at each other, wondering who would be the first to speak. Seeing this, Selene seized the chance to explain her plan to the female Elder before Kraven butt in.

"Amelia, I believe I have an idea that could help us find Markus and bring him back," she began, ensnaring the said Elder's attention. She arched one brow at her words, slightly intrigued.

"Is that so? Please, enlighten me." She waved her hand to allow Selene to have the floor.

"It is my opinion that Markus's abduction is directly connected to the lycans—after all, who else would have to gain kidnapping our Elder? That vampiress, she could be rogue hired by them to sneak past our defenses and then abduct him."

"But how," interrupted Amelia, "did a lone vampire get an Elder and his coffin out of the coven without being seen?"

This time Kahn spoke up. "That is still under investigation. However, many of my fellow Death Dealers have reason to believe that perhaps, this vampiress had help with the form of…magic."

Something unreadable flickered in the female Elder's eyes. "Magic?" echoed Amelia, her tone hinting disbelief, "Do you have any proof?"

"There were no records of her leaving the room and when we searched the entire chamber, we saw no signs of the woman or Markus's tomb. One of my men believed he might have detected traces of magic but it's still just a theory right now."

"A theory? We might as well forgo that estimation then." Amelia sneered lightly, evidently displeased with the results. "This coven hasn't encountered magic in centuries and now, all of sudden, you start claiming its existence? I would like to have the facts first before we all start jumping to conclusions or forming some mad, fantastical ideas!"

Silence once more rang amongst the members of the council table and Selene casually looked around her before speaking her mind. "Amelia," she began, ignoring Kraven's thunderous expression, "I have a plan to get Markus back. We need to work quickly but I believe it can be done." The said woman cocked her head curiously at Selene, a gesture that silently encouraged her to keep on talking. "We should infiltrate the lycans' base–I already know its location–and see if they have Markus. If they do, we quickly retrieve Markus back and if possibly, we can even take them all out in fell swoop if we want to end the war now. Also, there is another matter of concern we should also look into if we sneak into their lair."

"Oh, and what is that?" Amelia still didn't sound convinced.

"On my last mission, I noticed several lycans following a human. When I went to his flat later, I was attacked on by a different foe, a succubus—"

"A succubus?" interrupted Amelia, eyebrows furrowing incredulously, "How is that possible?"

"Right now, I can't explain. She could be working for the lycans or is acting solo and was attracted to the human Michael, desiring him as a souvenir. She could be a third party but I'm not sure."

Amelia tapped her fingers on the wooden surface of the desk, frowning. "There are many uncertainties with your plan. I do not like that."

Selene didn't like where this was going. But she had to persuade Amelia to her side or else all could be lost. They had to take the risk, even if they lacked solid evidence. "But Amelia—"

"It's far too risky!" cut in Kraven, his disapproved voice booming all across the room, "Amelia, you are right about there being too many unpredictable factors in Selene's scheme. What if the lycans don't have Markus or this human? What if the succubus controls the human now and perhaps, this rogue vampire is from another coven, a foreign one, and they want leverage over us. Maybe we have something they want."

"That is possible," agreed Amelia, nodding her head, "This coven does have enemies besides the lycans. Other vampire covens would love to see us fall and then conquer over the remaining pieces."

"But where's your proof, Kraven?" retorted Selene scathingly, narrowing her eyes dangerously at the said vampire. She knew what he was doing, he was trying to discredit her idea and then offer an alternative reason.

"Where's yours, Selene?" he fired back just as hotly, coal eyes gleaming with wont fury, "Your plan risks many Death Dealer lives based on a theory, a gut instinct. Why risk our men for a notion we have no concrete evidence, especially on the whereabouts of Markus. After all, as you said, Amelia, we need facts, not speculations. If Victor were here, he'd concur with you."

Selene wanted to do nothing more than leap over the table and throttle Kraven with her own two hands. Not only was he being an utter sycophant to Amelia (she always suspected him of having super ass-kissing powers) but to drag Victor, her surrogate father in this debate, as if he would agree with every word he was saying, was a disgrace to his honor and very presence!

_Kraven, you've gone too far! After this meeting, we're going to have a little chit-chat. And I can assure you, it won't end that way. _

"You have a point there, Kraven. I don't want to risk my men and women's lives unless we are absolutely certain Markus is with the lycans. So, I expect more espionage and results after day. Is that clear?" Nothing escaped her icy, firm gaze, everyone was held accountable. But Selene just couldn't let the meeting end on this note, especially when Kraven convinced Amelia to dismiss her plan.

"Amelia, I have one more idea."

"Go on," said the Elder but she sensed exasperation in her tone.

"I would like to make a request to bring Tanis back to the coven. He can, of course, be under surveillance but his resources and knowledge could help us find Markus, answer the enigma regarding Michael and the succubus, and possibly, help end the war between us and the lycans." Selene reckoned she was taking a chance with this one but with one glance at Amelia and Selene realized reluctantly what the answer would be.

"_Absolutely not!"_ she hissed, nearly banging one fist on the table, "Victor exiled him and I stand by his decision. That traitor, that refuse will not permitted to step one tainted foot in this coven! Do you hear me, Selene?"

Defeated, Selene nodded numbly. Satisfied with this, Amelia sank back down into her chair. "Good. I was hoping you would understand, my dear. Now, if all the reports and ideas are finished, you all are dismissed. We will reconvene tomorrow."

As they all filed out, Selene was unfortunate to catch the smug, triumphant look on Kraven's face as he brushed past her, the dancing light in his eyes saying "Why didn't you just listen to me?"

Never before in her entire life did Selene crave to slaughter him right then and there, with no regard for the consequences later. She really needed to go to the shooting range…_now_.

* * *

Erika wistfully ran her finger down the long, silky skirt of the corbeau dress that Thanatos had purchased for her. She thought about wearing the garment next time there was a party but part of her didn't want to, as if this gown was a secret between her and the strange man who befriended her on the street.

"This dress was meant for him," whispered Erika to herself, pulling her hand away from the downy, silky material, "Him and no one else." Right now, it just wouldn't seem right for her parade herself in this simple yet elegant outfit right in front of the entire coven. She didn't want anyone to know of her secret–including Kraven. In fact, for some reason, she never wanted Kraven to see her in this dress. Only Thanatos for she had a feeling he alone would appreciate her for who she was in this gown.

_But why I am suddenly thinking about him more than Kraven? I must admit I am proud in telling him off but still…maybe he'll like me more now that I have displayed a more feisty side and am not following him around all the time. Maybe—_

Erika stopped her musings before they became illusive, fantastical daydreams. She was always falling victim to those silly, girlish dreams of hers, chasing after a man who lusted after another woman. Was Kraven really worth all the effort? After all, he most of the time didn't give her the time of day and took her loyalty–or was it obedience?–for granted. Plus, he seemed to treat her like she was inferior and even though he was older than her and outranked in the social hierarchy of the coven, the indignation of the inequality burned furiously deep within her, like the subconscious of her mind and soul combining together to form one loud and vicious cry to herself, telling her to open her eyes to reality and start anew. All these fresh, new, and powerful emotions nearly overwhelmed Erika as she sat down, contemplating her motives. The more she pondered, the more she realized that she needed to see Thanatos again, no matter what. He brought out this new side of her and she was increasingly enjoying these strange but exciting sensations, the taste of identity freedom.

Grabbing her coat and slipping his number into her pocket, Erika hurried out of her room and the coven, ignoring the curious stares from the onlookers as she briskly opened the doors prior to finding herself a car and speeding away from the manor, her head imbibed with thoughts and images of that mysterious Thanatos man.

* * *

Michael Corvin hated his life right now. With a burning passion.

He first thought being suspected by the police as a shoot-out instigator and getting attacked by the mysterious woman from the subway was strange enough but then to be seduced and lured by that seemingly illustrious beauty who eventually brought him here to this wretched place was even worse. His life had gone from mundane to bizarre to plain frightening.

How did he, a doctor, ever get caught up in such a war, in such madness?

"I've got get out of here," he mumbled to himself, casting a wary glance around the plain, sparse room. All he had was a bed and nightstand for a lamp. He wasn't tethered or strapped in anywhere because he was only a mere human, not a werewolf like his captors. He wondered what exactly they needed him to help against this so-called war against the vampires. Their leader, who visited his cell frequently, told him he was their insurance in case anything went wrong in the near future.

"**If all goes wrong, you can save us from extinction,"** **the lycan leader told him gravely, dark blue eyes boring deep into him, as if his imposing gaze was penetrating his very soul and mind. All Michael could do was to swallow his breath and say nothing. **

He tried telling them over and over that he wanted no part in that war but apparently, he had no choice in the matter. He became a pawn, a chess piece in the game of survival. After all, that was how another man, one with piercing, haunting green eyes and raven hair and goatee who wore a black robe, described his role in continuing fray.

"**Don't you understand your part in this play, in life's little game, Michael?" queried the peculiar man, a mocking grin on his lips. **

"**What are talking about?" the American doctor demanded angrily, growing weary by all these cryptic or nebulous talks.**

"**You, my friend, are a pawn perhaps, a chess piece guided along by more powerful beings. Whether the person be me, one of the lycans, or God himself, you no longer have any will of your own. You are a marionette, bound to the strings of your puppeteer."**

**This comment enraged Michael. "I am no one's puppet!" he shouted, leaping to his feet, fists clenched to his sides. The man's grin twisted into a mocking smirk. **

"**When you've lived long enough, Michael, you will understand. Sooner or later, you will dance on the whims of another. It takes enough willpower and strength to sever those strings and take your role as a master of puppets." **

**After that, the arcane man simply left, leaving Michael alone again with his thoughts and some new ones as well. **

"I don't want to be anyone's tool," he muttered, raking his dirty blonde hair, "Is that what they see me, a weapon or a puppet that they can control? If that's the case, then I'm _definitely _getting the fuck away from this place."

Wracking his brain, Michael began to scheme his escape.

* * *

Chilling, harsh droplets of rain viciously pitter-pattered down on their ear, soaking Kraven's hair as he exited his car to climb into Lucian's car. Earlier, he had called Lucian to arrange him an urgent meeting to warn him what was transpiring in the Ordoghaz coven. If Victor came out of his slumber, all their plans would be all for naught.

"What is it now, Kraven?" drawled out Lucian as the said vampire slid into the car and shut the door. "What else do you have to report?"

"First off, did you hire anyone to steal Markus?" demanded Kraven, wanting to get that off his chest. The question nagged him for hours and even though Lucian showed no interest in the other Elder, one never knew what exactly went on in that mind of his.

Both of Lucian's shot up faster than the speed of light. "What are you talking about?" he seethed, glowering at Kraven darkly. "Kraven, _explain._"

"Someone, a rogue vampire some say, kidnapped Markus, coffin and all. I was wondering if you had anything do with his disappearance."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Lucian simply shook his head and let a regaled, half-smile slither onto his face. "No, Kraven, I did not. Markus doesn't mean anything to me. Perhaps your coven has more enemies that you realize."

"Oh, trust me, my report gets better," Kraven added scathingly, miffed that Lucian wasn't taking him seriously, "Selene, one of the Death Dealers, has found out more about this succubus who abducted that human your men has been following. That woman…she's one of yours, right?"

"Not mine. Thanatos's." A slight tic appeared in Kraven's jaw. He was growing to loathe that man more and more.

"Well, tell him Selene knows about his succubus and thinks she's aligned herself with you, which might prompt her to also believe the human could be with _you. _She's been fighting to get a team to infiltrate your base yet fortunately for you, Amelia disagreed."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, about Thanatos…" Kraven didn't know where do begin. He didn't like that man and didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. Truth be told, he enjoyed the alliance better when it was just him, Lucian, and their respective groups. Then along came Thanatos and he mucked everything up. "Lucian, I don't trust the man and neither should you. What if he has a secret agenda against us? What if he's just waiting to strike when our guards are lowered—"

"Right now," cut in Lucian steely, his eyes cold and hard like two solid blue stones, "I'm having a difficult time trusting _you._"

"What do you mean?" thundered Kraven, baffled and indignant at that accusation.

"For instance, why didn't you warn me about those assassins? I know Amelia or someone in the coven sent them after me and my men. They meant to eliminate my army but didn't expect Thanatos or his followers to step in and finish them off."

For once, Kraven was silent, his mind reeling at this new information. Did Amelia really send assassins after Lucian? Was it before or after she heard about Markus? If the latter, was that the real reason why she declined Selene's plan of infiltration?

"I…didn't know about the assassins," he admitted weakly, once he found his voice again, "Honestly, Lucian, I didn't. Amelia didn't mention them to us."

"Then find more about them. I want to know where they came from." _That is, if Thanatos can't extract anything from that revived incubus. _Raze wasn't pleased to hear about Clarissa's new toy. Frankly, Lucian just wished he would give up on Clarissa and find someone else. Clarissa was the type of female who didn't see the need to have one man in her life. She was, after all, a succubus.

Kraven nodded his head, scowling at the reprimanding tone Lucian was given, as if he was petulant child. "Fine. But I am still concerned about Selene. She's going to keep arguing the issue about sneaking into your base to find Markus. I'm suggesting we try to use the succubus, and possibly Thanatos, as a third party and pinpoint both Markus's and the human's location towards them. That way, Selene will be forced to abandon her idea and the coven can shift their focus away from you to them momentarily."

In one fleeting second or so, Lucian was stunned. Finally, for once, Kraven actually had a good idea! _I'll relay this idea to Thanatos and see what he thinks. After all, he too has a say in these matters._

"I will consider this notion of yours, Kraven, and see what Thanatos believes. Do you esteem Amelia and the coven will believe there is a third party, another enemy on the rise?"

He nodded again. "Yes, I think they will. Amelia contemplated that concept today, actually. We have nothing to fear if they take that bait, Lucian. Nothing at all."

"We'll see."

Lucian's timbre was brisk and blunt, signaling the end of their discussion. Huffing inwardly to himself, Kraven exited the car, back into the pouring rain, ignoring the stinging pain of cold, biting water droplets. He basked and sunk into the warmth of his car, closing his eyes to enjoy the quite moment all to himself as one of his men drove him back to the coven. When he returned to Ordoghaz coven, he'll nab himself a drink and try to patch things up with him and Selene–and maybe Erika too. He could always use a quickie.

* * *

Catherine sighed as she tried dialing Lucian's number again. Once she fully believed Bristol and Zael were indeed telling the truth and genuinely wanted to help Lucian and his cause, she had attempted to get in contact with Lucian early to tell him the good news. They always spoke or met each other once or twice a month to check up on the other. When Lucian had offered her shelter, he took a shining to her children and Cordelia had always viewed Lucian as her second father, while her first father was out somewhere in the dark, dangerous world, driving off assassins to protect his family. Catherine's heart ached countless times whenever she pondered over her broken, torn apart family. It was cruel that Edward never got see his daughter's birth or witness her or Michael to grow up into the beautiful adults they are now. She blamed Kraven for that as well.

"Come on, you stupid water mirror," grumbled Bristol in the dining room, her face scrunching up in deep concentration and frustration, "you're being more stubborn than the scrying crystal!"

Catherine held back a smile when she overheard Bristol's ramblings. Earlier, while Bristol was trying to scry for Lucian's location (to save them some time she claimed), the crystal kept swinging around and around, tiring out her poor arm and refusing to land. Of course, during the whole session, the scatter-brained witch realized she needed an item belonging to Lucian that he was deeply attached to and when Catherine mentioned that Sonja, someone who was long dead and buried, was the only person he had ever loved, Bristol let out an aggravated huff, practically slammed the crystal on the table and decided to see if she could use her powers with the water mirror to glean into the future. So far, from she was hearing, Bristol wasn't having much luck.

"You know, Bristol," Catherine called out as she waited for Lucian to pick up, "it's these moments that make me relieved that I'm not a witch or practitioner of magic."

"Just wait when I'm PMSing. You're going to wish you had magic to protect you." she replied and Catherine winced. The American witch had a point.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll let my son know as soon as it happens." Bristol chuckled briefly at the dry comment before returning her attention back to the bowl of water, placing her hands gently on the liquid surface while muttering the same chant over and over again under her breath.

"Catherine?"

The said woman nearly jumped out of her skin and her reverie when Lucian's voice appeared on the other line, shattering her internal musings. She breathed out a sigh of relief to know her lycan comrade was safe and sound.

"Lucian, thank goodness. I have been calling you for about an hour and a half. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Catherine, all is well, you have no reason to worry. I have acquired some allies who can help me end this bloody war once and for all. If you have the time, I want to you to meet them. Some of them I'm not sure whether or not to trust."

Catherine nodded as she listened. "I understand. And speaking of allies, I reckon I found some more for you, Lucian."

"Really?" His tone seemed incredulous, as if he couldn't believe his good fortune. "Are you certain?"

"For the most part, yes. Their interest in you and your cause seems genuine and I don't sense any dishonesty from them. They truly want to help you, Lucian." _At least, I hope they do. I pray to God they don't have an ulterior motive behind their wish to convene with Lucian and offer their support. _

"I might as well meet them," grunted Lucian, "It will give you the opportunity to see my newly acquired _associates_, as some would say."

Catherine debated whether or not to also add about Markus being in their possession but thought against the notion, deciding the topic was better to talk about face-to-face rather than on the phone. Plus, she had an inkling that Zael wanted the honor to present Markus's magical imprisonment herself.

"That sounds like a plan to me, Lucian. When do you want this meeting to take place? Tomorrow?"

For a few seconds, Lucian contemplated the proper time and his rather busy schedule before saying, "How about in a few days? I have a couple of vital matters to investigate and clean up. I don't want Kraven to be aware of your existence."

"Trust me, neither do I."

After several more minutes of the lycan leader and the young Van Helsing huntress working on the details of their next reunion, the two said their farewells and hung up. Catherine pocketed her cellphone away, relieved and overjoyed that everything was going according to plan. She knew Michael and Cordelia would be thrilled to see Lucian again, it had been too long since his last visit.

_And Zael and Bristol will be pleased with the arrangements. That is, if they are willing to wait a little longer._

Catherine entered the dining room, noticing Bristol hadn't moved a bit last time she looked. Her eyes were still glued to the bowl of water, hands gingerly touching the surface. Since she didn't know much about sorcery or witchcraft, Catherine decided to play it safe and wait until after Bristol was out of her trance to tell her the good news.

All of sudden, Zael emerged from the basement, her face blasé and composed but Catherine could tell by the triumphant sparkle in her frosty azuline eyes that something wonderful just occurred.

"Catherine, Bristol," she began, her words brisk and even, "Markus has awoken."

* * *

"_The ones who seek justice,  
Will pray for it all their lives...  
They can and they will skin us all one day...  
Oh can you hear them cries? (Can you hear them cries?)  
As far as the man can run from us we're following the trail of blood  
So hunt my young ones_

_I have always known the storm would come..._  
_Listen now, my young ones_  
_This not a story I tell_  
_Of midnight, moon and sun..._

_Are you ready to walk the forbidden road_  
_Learn again what we tried to forget_  
_The dark can now take over you_

_We have a common past, an ancient bond_  
_The people once broke_  
_We would only take what we need,_  
_They would harvest our weak,_

_But they hunted us all,_  
_We ended the last of them, thus far, ten lifetimes ago_  
_In hopes of healing the sore,_  
_But the war still went on."_

_**-Ain't Your Fairytale, **_Sonata Arctica

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Celeste- sky blue

Corbeau- blackish green

Azuline- blue

There you go! Another chapter completed. There's going to be a lot going on in the impending chapters, I shall do my best not cram too many events down your throats; after all I do I have to give you guys some breathing room (or will that be the long, arduous wait for my updates?). And I'd like to thank **Celtic Aurora **for reviewing my last chapter. Thanks for the comments; they're always a joy to read.

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this latest update of _**Ace in the Hole.**_ Review, critique, favorite, alert, etc., I look forward to the feedback. Let me know if there's anything I can improve with with my writing. I aim to get better.

Transmuting out,

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_


	11. XI: So Many Questions, So Little Answers

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**Chapter XI:** _So Many Questions, So Little Answers _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"Lose Control" by Evanescence

"Depths of Hell" by Iced Earth

**Disclaimer: Yeah, that ain't going to happen. It's a pipe dream. Nothing more to it.**

* * *

"_You don't remember my name.  
I don't really care.  
Can we play the game your way?  
Can I really lose control?_

_Just once in my life,_  
_I think it'd be nice,_  
_Just to lose control, just once,_  
_With all the pretty flowers in the dust."_

_**-Lose Control, **_Evanescence

* * *

Tomorrow came too quickly.

Selene was already up, hours before the second meeting with Amelia. She did so for two reasons: 1) to slip out and visit Tanis unseen and 2) to avoid running into Kraven. If she ever saw that oily regent again, she wasn't so sure if she'd be able to curb her mounting rage and pummel him until he resembled a bloody pulp. Amelia wouldn't approve of her actions and look upon her with disfavor. The female Elder might even believe that she, Selene, was compromised by her emotions and was blinded to all reason, hence making her unworthy to lead a military operation. And that was the last entity Selene needed the Elder to think of her, as someone irrational.

"Selene!" Selene was relieved to see that Kahn had already found her. "Selene, are you going somewhere?"

She nodded. "I have to slip out before the meeting–and before Kraven notices my absence. He's been trying to keep me on a tight leash these days and frankly, I'm at the end of my rope here. I don't how much longer I can stand him before I snap."

A sympathetic expression was awash on Kahn's dark features and he nodded understandably. He could tolerate Kraven more than she but that didn't mean he was a fan of the regent. "I will see what I can do, Selene. I can probably distract him a little but as for how long, I can't say."

"Just use Erika to distract him," grumbled Selene, reloading her second gun before slipping the polished weapon back into her holster, "You'll have all the time you need." Kahn chuckled at her answer, a small smile slowly creeping on his lips.

"Maybe but as for now, I don't think Erika would be the best idea for that." He paused, noting Selene's bemused look. "You haven't heard? Lately, Erika has been spending less of her time pursuing Kraven and more time with herself. I heard from one of coven members that she and Kraven had a little spat and later on, she left the coven. She came back later, of course, but seemed extremely content." He then shrugged.

"But it's just gossip so I won't pay much attention to it."

"Still, if that is true, I'm going to have to applaud Erika. She's been hounding him for ages, craving for attention. I always believed she could do better." Selene remarked succinctly. Albeit a small part of her curiously wondering what could have Kraven done to irate Erika so? There were times her affections for him got Kraven off her back and yet despite all of Erika's groveling, Selene still believed Kraven was a two-faced, slimy bastard who didn't deserve anyone. "And before I forget, Kahn, if I don't come back in time, fight for my plan. Do your best to convince Amelia that I am right and Kraven is wrong."

The tiny smile of Kahn's transformed into a regaled one. "It will be my pleasure. Hopefully, you'll come in time to see it unfold."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. By then, I'll have more information to battle Kraven with." Confident with her new mission, Selene don her leather trench coat and after making sure Kraven wasn't nearby to intercept her on the way out, Selene exited the coven and left Kahn to deal with a soon-to-be enraged regent who wanted to get some alone time between him and Selene.

* * *

Tanis didn't expect to receive many visitors. That was the price of exile, the price of telling the truth in the face of a cloaked tyranny. The members of Ordoghaz coven could lie about the joint, equal powers in their Elders and cover up the facts, but Tanis knew his former coven and his brethren certainly lived under a tyrant, a monarchy of three. Victor was the tyrant, of course– just ask the lycans and his dead, scorched daughter, Sonja.

Tanis glanced sorrowfully over at his prized collected of books and tomes. Very few people had wanted to learn about the truth and those same people were either hunted down or killed when they attempted to expose said truth. One of them was Catherine Van Helsing and even to this day, Tanis still had no idea if she was alive or not.

_I rather hope she lives. That would be a nice thorn in Victor's side. He could always use a few more of those._

All of sudden, the door slammed open, jarring Tanis out of his reverie. Whirling around, the former scribe of Victor only saw Lucian entering his humble abode, shutting the door carefully behind him. Inwardly, Tanis breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he thought Victor had come to covertly end his life, right then and there, to prevent him from spilling any more flagrant secrets and facts.

"Hello, Lucian," he greeted cordially, plastering an uneasy yet somewhat amicable smile on his face, "What can I do for you today?"

"Many things, Tanis. But first, I have a question for you. And I want your utmost honesty."

Tanis inwardly gulped. He didn't like the sound of where this was going. "Yes? What is it?"

"Besides me, Tanis, have you had any other visitors?" Sharp, deadly eyes, the color of perse, whizzed back at the said vampire, piercing him with the intensity of Lucian's uncompromising gaze. Lucian's eyes almost seemed to say "lie to me, I dare you" to Tanis. But he was no fool, Tanis knew lying right to Lucian's face was never a good idea. Besides, the lycan leader had been good to him, even for a price.

"To be frank, yes, I have. One of Victor's Death Dealers came here asking for information regarding a mysterious yet highly alluring woman. After further discussion, my books and I ended up concluding that woman was a succubus. I went along with her demand because I assumed the succubus wasn't linked to you…" He paused, a nervous expression overcoming his features as the cogs in his mind rapidly started churning and putting the puzzle pieces into place. "Or was I wrong? Do you now have a succubus in your midst?"

"That and so much more," Lucian replied with a nod, a small frown on his face. "How much did you tell her about the succubus?"

"Just the basics; like what is a succubus or an incubus, their powers, what they do, and how…to kill one," finished Tanis, looking at Lucian warily, "Lucian, if I had known that succubus worked for you, I wouldn't have told her so much."

Lucian waved his concerned remark away. "What's done is done. The succubus lives so don't you worry. Now that I know one of the Death Dealers has visited you, is it likely that she will return?"

At this query, Tanis pondered the notion long and hard. One could never be certain when it was about Selene; she was unpredictable at times. In fact, even now Tanis still couldn't believe she came to him for facts on the succubus. Would she still come back for more information? There were so many answers to that question.

Weighing his words carefully, Tanis finally answered, "With Selene, it depends. It is possible she might come back for more facts about the succubus." He looked at Lucian straight in the eye. "If that happens, what do you want me to do? Lie to her?"

There came another nod. "Precisely! Somehow, find a way to misdirect her and make her suspect that this succubus is a third party and busy nabbing men left and right for her own 'coven'. I don't want her blame any other disappearances on me and my men, whether or not it's true."

The vampire scholar and scribe did his best to suppress the dry smirk threatening to overtake his mouth. "I do believe I can do this. However…what do you mean by 'disappearances'? I know you are after that Michael fellow for his blood but what else have I missed?"

For a few minutes, Lucian didn't respond to his inquiry. He simply studied him for a bit, as if he was debating whether or not he should know and if he trusted him enough. At last, the lycan answered. "Apparently, a rogue vampire–some say–infiltrated the Ordoghaz coven and stole away Markus, right under the security guards' noses."

Tanis practically gapped at Lucian, hardly able to comprehend this fresh bit of news. He knew how meticulously guarded the tomb chambers were–and how _bloody _heavy hauling the sarcophagus was (he would know, he dragged all three of them in a short matter of time!). The rogue vampire either had helped from someone on the inside or wasn't truly a vampire at all and something else altogether.

"I don't believe it…that's incredible!" he murmured, shaking his head as he sat down in one of his richly furnished wooden chairs, "Such a feat is nearly impossible and yet one lone person accomplished just that. It's either a very good or bad thing for us, Lucian. You better hope whoever this person is, they don't have a grudge against you too. As I recall, Markus wasn't in the best frame of mind when he was coerced into slumber and let Victor take the reins of the coven."

"Duly noted." Lucian didn't seem too worried about Markus's disappearance–for the most part. "But remember what you are supposed to do if or when that Death Dealer returns. Lead her astray. I know how wonderful you are at weaving fables and stories." While he watched the lycan leader exit his tiny, humble abode, the corners of the scribe's lips quirked upwards, in which resembled a small, dry smile.

"Now, now, was that meant to be a compliment or an insult?" Tanis called out drolly, chuckling to himself as he went over to his bookcases to begin preparing his tale for Selene.

Just as he expected, he heard no answer from Lucian. The only sound that greeted his words was merely the quiet resonance of his footsteps on the pavement, fading away.

* * *

Hard, distrusting, and wrathful eyes swept the basement and the occupants in it. Three women stood before him, two brunettes, one blonde, all with serious expressions on their faces. Markus snarled at them, tugging on the chains he had been strapped to while blood was pumping into his body, awakening each and every tiny cell.

"What's going on here?" he demanded in a low, dangerous voice, "How did you manage to get me out of Victor's coven?" He pulled harder on the metal bonds, irate to see they did not break from his might. _Just what material is this thing constructed of?_

"That task was mostly mine alone," spoke up the blonde, her icy azure eyes shimmering with unspoken delight and mute satisfaction, "I had some help but I'm the one responsible for your Awakening."

Markus scowled at her viciously, his dark eyes flashing into an alluring but frightening shade of electric blue. That deadly look of his could have shattered swords with one casually glance and yet the female didn't even bat an eyelash. She returned his glower with what one could only describe as a mongoose glare. For a few seconds, Markus noticed that the woman's wintry orbs seemed a tad shade lighter, almost highlighted with thin shots of cerulean–or was it more of a denim?–streaking around the irises. But the different color was gone and her eyes were back to their normal hue of winter streams and skies.

"Is that so?" Markus said dryly, eyeing her coldly, "And why would you commit such an act?"

The woman's stoic demeanor changed slightly, for one corner of her lips twitched upward into a half-smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she murmured in an almost humorous manner but Markus detected the steely edge of her words, the bitterness that lied underneath them. Her face might have remained emotionless (to some extent) but she couldn't fully quell all the depths of her feelings from her eyes. They explained everything to him.

Those deep, frosty blue eyes of hers were rife with utter loathing.

Drawing himself away from those startling eyes, Markus nodded stiffly, saying, "Of course. I have every right to know why I'm bonded and chained down here with three people I don't know and have never met!" His voice rose, increasing in volume, just like his temper. The corners of blonde woman's mouth quirked up again and his fury flared anew. She was enjoying this, triumphing over his captivity, no matter how hard she was trying to be impassive about it. If he was free, he would destroy that victorious glint in her orbs and tear out all of their throats for imprisoning him like this!

"Zael, he sort of has a point," said one of the brunettes and upon closer inspection, Markus noted that the young woman was blind. Although the strange entity about her eyes was they would be milky white for a minute and then become hazel the next. Markus took a sniff in the air and a rush of herbal essences and a perfume of smoke, ink, and sorcery slammed into his olfactory system with such a force that even Markus was surprised by the keenness of his smell. However, he at least now knew two things about his captors: The blonde one was called Zael and one of the females was a witch. Somehow, he had a feeling none of these ladies in this room where human–at all.

"Oh, I know," replied the woman called Zael, her frosty, hard-eyed scrutiny never leaving Markus, "He'll know soon enough why he is here."

"'Soon enough' is not good enough," interrupted Markus irately, "I would like to know _now._"

"Too bad, so sad," mocked Zael in a dry, indifferent voice, "I don't care what you think or like, Markus."

"Perhaps we should go," Markus overheard the other brunette whisper to the witch. She cast a wary glance at Zael.

"That's probably a prudent idea, Catherine," the witch responded back just as quietly and triumph surged through Markus. He had himself another name.

Zael must have heard them as well, for she told them, "You two can go ahead. I will deal with Markus here." The witch sighed, a worried expression awash on her features.

"Okay, if you say so… Just don't overdo it, Zael." With that said, the two women left, leaving Markus alone with this strange and stolid lady named Zael.

He truly preferred his centuries-long sleep instead of waking up to this annoying conundrum.

* * *

"Are sure it was all right to leave her alone with him?" queried Catherine as she and Bristol walked back into the living room, "I mean, what if he tries to escape and kill her?"

"Nah, I used magic on those chains. He's not busting out of those anytime soon." the American witch responded casually, plopping down on the sofa. "But I must tell you, I needed a break from all the scrying and peering down into the water mirror. My hand and eyes hurt so much." She rubbed her temples as she spoke, closing her sightless eyes.

"But how to do you See the future if you're blind, if you pardon my asking?" questioned Catherine.

"Magic," Bristol explained bluntly, opening her eyes again, "When the future calls and is present, my magic, the Seer blood within me, briefly opens my eyesight for me to witness the events in the water mirror. The future lies not only in the water but also plays in my mind–that's why the images remain so strongly with me: They are etched in my brain." She tapped her head lightly, a regaled beam on her face.

"I suppose I understand that…" replied Catherine, looking away at Bristol and back at the kitchen, where Bristol's water mirror was placed. As she did so, a faint shimmer of iridescent light came from the bowl and Catherine blinked, wondering if she was imagining the glow or not. "Hey, Bristol, your—"

But the witch had already bolted up from her seat and cruised over the bowl, not even hearing the rest of the sentence. She had sensed the magic beckoning to her and seated herself right in front of the water mirror, heeding the future's call. It was then Catherine saw her albicant eyes changing into a soft, warm shade of hazel and during that moment, Bristol could see the world through clear lenses.

Curious but patient, Catherine sat back down on her coach, waiting for the premonition to end before she started questioning Bristol about the future. If there was anything she learned about witchcraft, it was to never both a witch while she was in a middle of spell or anything magic related. The consequences could be sometimes nasty.

* * *

His instincts, his theories, were keen as ever.

It had been only hours after Lucian's departure when Selene came strolling right on in without a single world, as if she still had the recollection of the mischief he had wracked upon her during her last visit. A hidden smirk suddenly found itself on Tanis's lips. He had so much fun ruffling her feathers, despite all the attempted shootings and physical pain on his person. She had forgotten what it was like to live a little and sometimes, Tanis wanted to help her in remembering that. He missed what the old Selene use to be like, full of promise and excitement. Of course, she always had been quite serious to a point but never so…austere.

But what he missed most of all were Selene's laughter, her smile. Even when she had reserved them solely for Jarek, he still enjoyed those smiles and laughs anyway.

Mentally shaking himself out of these sentimental musings, Tanis banished the past to the recesses of his mind and rose from his chair to greet Selene, pulling his usual strange but amiable smile back on his face. However, Lucian's command echoed ceremoniously inside his head, cautioning and directing him towards his next actions.

"**Somehow, find a way to misdirect her and make her suspect that this succubus is a third party and busy nabbing men left and right for her own 'coven'. I don't want her blame any other disappearances on me and my men, whether or not it's true."**

"Why hello, again, Selene," he began, "Did you reduce my sentence at all?" That was meant to be a jest (sort of) but she just shot him a dirty look and Tanis simply let the joke die. Back to business then, as usual.

"Tanis, I desire to learn more about this succubus. More problems have risen in the coven and I wanted to see if I missed anything of importance." For a second, she seemed anxious, uncertain even but Tanis reckoned those feelings had something to do with Markus's abduction and she wasn't sure whether or not to inform him. Before she could say anything else, Tanis deliberately dragged one of his tomes off the shelf and plopped it down gingerly on the table.

"Well, it's your lucky day. In case you should return for more answers, I decided to brush up my knowledge about succubi and incubi. And I find some very interesting facts." he prattled on, flipping over several pages, searching for the one page that would strengthen his tale to Selene.

"And?" prodded Selene impatiently, "What did you uncover?"

"That in some cases, these demons are no less different than us."

He could have sworn she snorted with exasperation. "Meaning, Tanis?"

"Meaning that they like creating covens of their own," the said scribe finished, "In fact, I have reason to believe that was what your succubus was doing. After all, from what I have read, it is not uncommon for a succubus or incubus to seduce humans and either turn them into their sex slaves or fellow demons to start a coven or covert empire."

"So, you are suggesting that the succubus I faced probably wanted Michael as her sex slave or an incubus?" Selene replied slowly, mulling his words over inside her head.

Nodding stiffly, Tanis tried to maintain eye contact with the female Death Dealer without giving away anything incriminating, "Yes, it is quite possible. If she believed this Michael human to be attractive enough, there is no doubt in my mind that he's under her control already."

A defeated sigh escaped Selene's lips yet it was so soft, so feeble that Tanis, at first, didn't believe she responded to his latest report. But when the sigh reached his ears, he realized how lost and frustrated Selene felt now. She probably had different theory about the female sex demon but his lie refuted her idea and crushed it completely. Introspectively, Tanis felt rather guilty about lying to Selene but at the same time, he could _not _tell her the truth, she wouldn't understand. She didn't believe him the first time he opened his mouth for justice, verity, and his own nagging conscience and he doubted she would change her tune.

_But maybe I can nudge her down that path…_

"You know, Selene, I suggest you dig a little into the coven's past, into the books themselves."

Selene's head snapped right up, lucid sable eyes glaring furiously at him. "You know that's forbidden, Tanis. What are you trying to do, get me exiled too?"

"Well, I could sure use the company, especially from a lovely woman such as yourself," admitted Tanis jokingly, dodging Selene's sailing fist, "But no, that was not my intent. I simply wanted to direct you to another source to look for your many questions. After all, I'm sure Victor's unused library holds many valuable secrets." A light smirk grazed his lips at the thought of all those precious tomes he had to leave behind, locked away and collecting dust. One day he would rescue them, his darlings, his beloved companions.

"Why are you telling me this?" Now Selene acted more perplexed than angry, albeit there was a thin layer of annoyance laced in her voice. Perhaps fury was a familiar emotion to Selene and when she was forced to experience something different, something foreign, she panics, puts up a barrier between her and the strange force, and then retreats back to more comfortable, familiar feelings. He had noticed her doing that after Jarek's death.

Releasing a sigh of his own, Tanis replied, "Things are not always what they seem, Selene, and who knows? You might end up finding more than what you bargained for."

He'll let her figure out the meaning of _that_ riddle.

* * *

"_Darkness dwelling in his soul  
True damnation no control  
Shattered pieces of his past  
Broken dreams among the dead_

_When the smoke clears he will arise_  
_Feel the pain_  
_Feel the shock_  
_From the depths of hell."_

_**-Depths of Hell, **_Iced Earth

* * *

**Color Glossary:**

Perse- dark blue

Albicant- white

So here ends chapter eleven. The plot thickens, as always (or at least, I try). Slowly, everything is following into place and now Markus has awoken, you readers will get the chance to learn more about Zael's history and later, why she seems to have a grudge on both Markus and Victor (more so on Victor). Again, I'm planning out several impending chapters and hope to receive a better, detailed version of the plot and how all the events are going to connect and fall in line. I don't want rush anything or smash certain moments together but I don't drag out things longer than they have to be. Hopefully, with some more mapping out the future chapters, I'll get better idea in how long this story will be. Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter and will see you around in chapter twelve!

Before I go, I would like thank both **Celtic Aurora** and **Beaufale **for their reviews! I appreciate the feedback, no matter what kind (save for flames, I just roll my eyes and ignore them). Reviews always help to encourage me to type just a wee bit faster.

Signing off for now,

_**:SpeedDemon315: **_


	12. XII: Pandemonium

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various parings]

**Chapter XII:** _Pandemonium _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"The Valley of Unrest" by Edgar Allen Poe

"The Night is Darkening Around Me" by Emily Brönte

**Disclaimer: You know the routine. I say I don't own Underworld and you scroll down to read the chapter. Or just ignore this, whatever works for you.**

* * *

"_Once it smiled a silent dell_

_Where the people did not dwell;_

_They had gone unto the wars,_

_Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,_

_Nightly, from their azure towers,_

_To keep watch above the flowers,_

_In the midst of which all day_

_The red sunlight lazily lay._

_Now each visitor shall confess_

_The sad valley's restlessness._

_Nothing there is motionless-_

_Nothing save the airs that brood_

_Over the magic solitude."_

_**-The Valley of Unrest, **_Edgar Allen Poe

* * *

The next time Selene sauntered into the Ordoghaz coven, she was feeling much more confident and empowered compared to when she left. Tanis's tomes had given her much information and with it, she could finally turn the tide of her debate with Kraven and give him exactly what Amelia needed. Finally, progress could be made here, in this coven. If Victor was around, he would have been utterly revolted by the lack of development and advancement that was transpiring in his coven–courtesy of Kraven.

As she made her way up the stairs, she briefly checked the old grandfather clock to her right and was rather relieved to see the time. The second meeting hadn't started yet; she was going to be arriving on time, and not a minute too soon. Her drive to Tanis went quicker than she anticipated, hence the reason Kahn was pleasantly surprise to see her enter the meeting room earlier than either one of them had expected.

"What has happened so far when I was gone?" she whispered to Kahn as she took a seat next to him.

"Amelia has just been gathering all of the important members to the meeting before it commences," he murmured back, "And Kraven has been tearing the coven apart, looking for you."

"Good thing I left when I did," Selene mused softly, rolling her eyes. She didn't think she had the patience to deal with Kraven and his excessive complaining and outbursts today, especially after what transpired in the first meeting.

"Is everyone here? I would like to begin right away." Amelia's cold, clear voice resonated among the entire chamber, silencing all private chatter. Out of the corner of her eye, Selene noticed Kraven slipping into his seat and giving her a dirty glower, evidently furious with her strange disappearance. _He's going to try to corner me afterwards and demand to know about my whereabouts. That's when I will take my gun and tell him I'll shove it up his ass if he tries interrogating me again._

"Yes, Amelia, everyone is present," responded one of the members. Pleased, Amelia nodded and commenced the meeting.

"From our last meeting, I decided that before I awaken Victor, I would like to hear more of what some of you have to offer to me." She shot a look both at Selene and Kraven. "If you can support your ideas and theories with more evidence, then I just might consider your plans."

"Lady Amelia, I have something that could support my idea about a succubus using Michael for her own ends," Selene replied, slamming the tome she borrowed from Tanis (he had a copy anyway, or so he claimed) down on the council table. "My research will prove it."

_Hopefully, she just doesn't ask where I found this book…_

Amelia quirked one elegant, thin eyebrow at Selene, obviously not believing her claim but nonetheless motioned for the tome to be passed her way. Once the book was in her hands, Selene spoke up again, once again ignoring Kraven's murderous glare.

"Please to turn to page 332," she said calmly, her face betraying nothing, "I marked it for you so the page would be easier to find."

"How generous," Amelia murmured drily, flipping the pages around until she found the one was looking for: page 332. In front of her were two beautiful colored ink drawings of a stunning, curvaceous woman and a well-built, muscular half-naked man who had a smoldering look on his face. In black, curvy ink letters, the next chapter spelled out _"Incubi and Succubi: Demons of Lust"_.

"Is there any particular passage you want me to read?" Amelia looked up to face the impressionable Selene, the Elder's dark eyes inscrutable and practically displeased. The female Death Dealer reckoned Amelia was getting rather impatient.

"Third paragraph," she answered swiftly, silently hoping her plan would work and Amelia would come to the same conclusion she did after reading the passage. Seconds ticked by but time seemed prolonged, as if the length of minutes became more and more elongated while Amelia continued to read the passage. Selene wondered if everything would have gone faster if she had simply read the paragraph out loud for her.

"How interesting," came Amelia's voice, returning Selene back to the present, "I am now starting to understand what you have in mind, Selene." She leaned back in her chair, pausing to stare at the book before lifting her caliginous eyes back up at Selene.

"Do you truly believe that the succubus you ran into is planning to create a coven of her own and this human is destined to be one of her followers?"

"It's possible, yes," she admitted, relieved that she could finally state her entire plan, "I believe we should send two teams on two very different reconnaissance missions. One to the lycans' lair in search of Markus and the other should track this succubus down and uncover what she's up to. What if she starts adding vampires to her collection?"

"I see where you're going with this," Amelia responded, leaning back in her chair, "And you may have a point with this. In light of this new information and the fact Markus is still missing, I decided to wait a little before awakening Victor as an emergency. Instead, like what you have just suggested, Selene, I plan to send out two teams to deal with these threats. One group will go on a reconnaissance mission to the alleged lycan lair Selene uncovered while the second group shall go after this succubus and hunt her down. If the second team finds the human she required, retrieve him and bring him back to the coven for questioning. I too would like to know why the lycans have in interest in him."

"Then allow me to lead the first team into the lycans' stronghold," Selene interjected quickly prior to Kraven could open his mouth and say anything, "I've been there before, I can navigate the group down there faster than most." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kraven's jaw clenched tightly, a wild, raging glint in his eyes. He looked like he was ready to explode. Triumph flared inside of her but she dared not parade her joy in front of everyone else, especially when Amelia had yet to make the decision.

"I second that," Kahn voiced out, lending his support, "I think it's best if Selene were to be the leader of the first team. She knows the layout better than we do." Selene smiled softly at his words and Khan returned with a short grin of his own. Maybe everything would go according to plan after all.

"Perhaps so," interjected Kraven, "but I am more concerned with how much emotional involvement Selene is in."

The short joy Selene experienced died instantly and a brief flash of blue sparked in her dark eyes. _Damn you, Kraven! Why can't you keep your mouth shut for once?_

"What do you mean?" queried Amelia, a puzzled yet troubled look on her face. Already Kraven had planted the seeds of doubt and inserted himself into the predicament.

"What I mean is that even though Selene is an extraordinary Death Dealer, I have noticed many times she allows her emotions to cloud her better judgment and occasionally, these very same emotions lead to obsession, which compels her to charge into situations without thinking things through all the way. For instance, she decided to investigate this human without letting anyone else know about her plans and look what happened: She was caught off guard by a succubus and the human escaped, captured by a potential foe. If Selene would have told me and some of her fellow Death Dealers about what she was up, we could have been there as backup for her and instead of botching up her plan, we would have helped her succeed and brought the human to us for questioning."

"But what does this have to do with lycan base?" Selene demanded, forgetting herself as she shot right out of her seat, fists clenched in utter fury.

As if he was pleased with her outburst, a slight smirk edged its way across Kraven's face. "Because, Selene, you carry your obsession to the lycans, even when there isn't a connection. I am concerned your need to find something, to prove something when what you seek isn't there could jeopardize the mission. Perhaps it's best for all of us if you sit this one out."

Selene never wanted to murder someone so badly in her entire life, and that counted for all the werewolves she had slaughtered in the past. But Kraven…he set up a whole new bar of being a pain in her ass.

"I need to be a part of this mission, whether in the first or second group. I have the best information regarding both the lycan den and the succubus–I fought her before." she told him coldly, slowly sitting back down as she controlled her breathing. She couldn't let Kraven get into her skin now and continue to ruffle her feathers even more, that was exactly what he was aiming for. He wanted provoke her and send her flying off the handle to prove to everyone that she was slipping and letting her feelings get the better of her. _Well, I'll show them that isn't the case and all Kraven is spouting are empty words, putrid lies._

"And such information could be relayed to anyone here. Why, I am certain you could tell Kahn everything you know about both cases." Kraven countered, taking his goblet of blood and swirling it around in the palm of his hand.

Kahn shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as if he sensed the murderous aura surrounding Selene. Hence, he used this opportunity to cut in. "Yes, it is possible that could be done but I believe it would more beneficial to all of us if Selene were to lead one of the teams. Despite what Kraven says, I have complete confidence in her abilities."

Selene was able to breathe easier at Kahn's interference and mentally noted to herself to thank Kahn tremendously for his help after all of this was finished. Without his support, she wagered she would have had an even tougher time convincing Amelia of her idea. At least at these meetings, there was one friendly face she could count on having her back.

"All of this is very insightful," Amelia began, inserting herself back into the discussion to prevent any more verbal combat between Selene and Kraven, "but I have already made my decision."

The entire room became utterly still, silent and motionless save for Amelia, who was reclining in her chair in an almost lax, casual manner, subtly displaying her power. She wanted to have everyone's undivided attention prior to speaking again. Sometimes, Amelia reminded Selene of a cat.

Satisfied with the members' reaction, the female Elder resumed. "For the first team, the group that will investigate the lycan base will be led by Kraven—"

"_What?_" Selene hissed sharply, unable to stop herself. Why was Amelia thinking, sending Kraven, who barely displayed any admirable warrior qualities, on a reconnaissance mission?

"—and Selene will be leading the second band to find this succubus and her human pet," finished Amelia, ignoring Selene's little outburst. She then turned her gaze to the entire room, her steely eyes scrutinizing each and every vampire present. "That is my decision and I am not wavering from it. Is that understood?"

Even though Amelia wasn't staring precisely at her when she spoke, Selene had a sneaky feeling she was one of the people Amelia was directing her final comments to. The Elder probably suspected (and rightly so) for her to object to her choice of selecting Kraven as one of the group commanders and placing her on the second team instead of the first one, like she specifically requested. She dimly wondered if this was Amelia's way of pleasing everyone, because if she truly believed all of Kraven's lies, she wouldn't have been picked to lead a platoon at all.

Despite her fuming and frustration, Selene managed to form out of the words, "No, Lady Amelia," along with everyone else, their responses tantamount to a solemn, monotonous chorus.

"Good. I want to find Markus as soon as possible. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

It had only been several minutes later after Bristol's "water mirror" had started flashing a myriad of colors and the carefree witch vanished into the kitchen to See what the future held for her–or them, for that matter. Catherine had overheard faint mumbles and voices, wondering if some of them were coming from the water mirror but she couldn't be certain. It was a question she would have to bring up to Bristol after she was finished.

Minutes rolled by and eventually, the murmurings were gone but the American witch still didn't come out of the kitchen. There were rustling sounds, grumblings, and a few chosen curses that caused both of Catherine's eyebrows to rise upward. At least her children weren't around to hear such expletives.

"Bristol?" she called out, reaching out to slowly open the door to the kitchen, "Is everything all right?" The door cracked open, revealing a table covered in one extremely large and detailed map, scrying crystals, and a bowl of water, devoid any life or energy it held a few minutes earlier.

"Yeah, everything is fine," Bristol responded in a hurried fashion. She was hovering over the enormous map, gently but tiredly swinging an even larger scrying crystal than Catherine remembered. "It's just I haven't been having much luck finding this person, that's all."

"Who is it that you're searching for?" Catherine queried curiously.

"Some scribe of Victor's–I heard he has tomes on everything! I believe with his knowledge and those books, he can help me with my family's curse." Bristol explained, not even paying attention in how much she was revealing of herself as she continued her scrying. But this caught Catherine's attention in an instant.

"Wait, wait, a family's curse?" she asked, repeating the young witch's words. Bristol stopped her scrying momentarily, a rather sheepish look on her face.

"Oh, I didn't mention that before, did I?" she said, dropping the crystal to give her arm a rest. Catherine shook her head and the witch sighed. "Well, I'll tell you more about that later. Right now, I need to find that scribe!" She then went back to the water mirror, hoping her search would yield more bounty if she tried something else.

As she placed her hands in the water, Catherine had a sneaky suspicion of who Bristol was looking for. "Do you happen to know the name of the scribe?"

"Yeah. His name is Tanis, I think."

_I knew it!_

"Well, Bristol, you're in luck–because in the past, I have come across him." Bristol's sightless eyes snapped open wide and she jerked her head around.

"Really? Then why didn't you say so before?" she exclaimed, overjoyed. She looked over at her scattered crystals and almost immediately began packing them away. "Guess I won't need this anymore."

"But I don't know exactly where he is," Catherine interjected, feeling a little guilty for getting Bristol's hopes up. But before the joy in Bristol's face could completely disappear from her face, the fallen angel hybrid quickly added, "But I know someone who will."

This recent bit of news got Bristol eager all over again. "Who?"

"Lucian."

* * *

Lucian found the enigmatic necromancer the same place he usually spotted him in: Reading in his chambers.

"Thanatos," he began, knocking on the partly opened door, "Do you have a minute?"

"Lucian, I have all the time in world," replied the said necromancer putting his book down. The lycan arched an quizzical eyebrow at this comment.

"Literally or figuratively?" He had to ask, just to humor himself.

"Both, actually." By the cryptic edge in his tone, Lucian knew better than to question his meaning on that. So he ignored the answer and went back to what he really came here for.

"I had another meeting with Kraven and this time, he actually managed to produce some credible, worthwhile evidence for once. He even offered a sound plan that involves you."

Thanatos cocked his head, intrigue in his smoky viridian eyes. "Did he now? It appears saving Kraven's skin is finally paying off for you. Now tell me, what is this scheme of his?"

"In order to divert attention away from the possibility that Michael is with us, he suggested that you have Clarissa pose as a demon trying to create her own coven by abducting men, human or not, to be her followers, Michael being one of them. I have already instructed Tanis to plant the seed to the next Death Dealer who comes to him for answers. All we need now is for Clarissa to play the part. I will send some of my own men to protect her and pretend they are her servants, her fledglings. Michael will also be with her. However, when the Death Dealers strike, I hope the vampires can be overcome. If the battle proves too daunting, I have orders for Raze and the others to pull Michael out of combat and send him to another location. He will remain there until both Death Dealer parties are gone and the coast is clear." He paused to glance back at Thanatos, waiting for his reaction. "What do you think?"

Leaning back in his chair, Thanatos stroked his beard while saying, "I believe this plan could work. Yet I would like to add another person to join Clarissa: The incubus called Lust should join her as well."

Frowning, Lucian disagreed with this request. "Why should we send an assassin that tried to kill us on this mission when we fully know where his loyalty lies?"

"Because his loyalty lies with us now," Thanatos answered firmly, mirth dancing in his eyes. "After resurrecting him, we didn't have much luck fishing information out of him. Jacob wanted to torture the living daylights out of him but Clarissa refused to have him harm one hair on the incubus's head. So, to ensure Lust wouldn't try to escape and report back to his boss, she decided to inject him with a little of her succubus venom to keep him pliant and obedient. She gave him a small dose so he won't be completely enslaved to her whims like her previous 'partners'."

Millions of questions buzzed around in Lucian's head as he listened to this newest update, many of them revolving around Clarissa and her abilities and the lack information they could extract from the incubus. But before he could raise any concerns or queries, Thanatos resumed the discussion.

"Now, I know you were looking to learn more about the assassins and who they work for but I can tell you, they were well-trained because I don't think Jacob's torture would have loosened his lips in the long run and that's saying something. I'm hoping he'll spend so much time with Clarissa and in utter devotion and loyalty, he'll let something slip and reveal a crucial bit of information for us."

"Is that all?"

The arcane necromancer shook his head. "No. From our encounter with these assassins, I also gleaned that not only is this new enemy highly dangerous and capable, but also they have access to powerful technologies and new knowledge we are currently unaware of."

This intrigued and disturbed Lucian at the same time. "Where did you come up with that?"

Two deep emerald eyes stared at him straight in the face, piercing the lycan leader with their calm but intense gaze. "Demons are not supposed to die by poison, even cyanide for that matter," Thanatos explained effortlessly, his tone dry and crisp like parchment paper, "And yet, Lust was killed by a cyanide pill. Clearly, their leader has crafted such a device that is capable of killing supernaturals with a poison that is normally deadly to humans."

"Are you thinking that sort of weapon can be used against us?"

Thanatos nodded. "Precisely."

All emotion evaporated from Lucian's face, replaced by the stony mask of a warrior. "Then we just earned ourselves a shit load of more problems."

"And I reckon they all will point to Victor's coven, directly or indirectly," added Thanatos with a joyless smile.

* * *

Michael Corvin didn't understand what was transpiring when they had him bounded and gagged, but he knew they were transferring him somewhere else and didn't want him making a single peep during the journey. He had struggled at first, determined to show them he wasn't broken or pliant to their demands. They managed to subdue him but odd enough, Michael felt a strange stab of satisfaction, as if he had made his point to them all. But no one else seemed to care. The werewolves accompanying him barely spared him a glance while the woman whom they called Clarissa simply smirked at him, giving him a coy wave before she removed his gag (it was sign that they "trusted him, she explained but he ignored her) and was soon joined by a male who shared her stunning good looks. He definitely didn't look like a werewolf–at all.

"All right, boys, let's get moving. Keep your eye out for any of those pesky Death Dealers." Clarissa called out and all of sudden, they were moving and driving the road so fast Michael didn't think it was legal.

And that's when the attack happened.

A bullet zipped through one of the side windows, embedding itself in the lycan's brain. Michael was in the other car but he heard the crack of the bullet and all of the swearing and cursing, and saw the glass breaking, the blood, and the car swerving, trying to get out of harm's way. He knew right away one of them was already dead and someone was assaying to kill them. The lycans fired back on the unseen opponents, parking the cars as they engaging in another shoot-out. Spiders emerged from the shadows and dragged the perpetrators into the light while birds of prey, seemingly coming out of nowhere, bombarded the assaulters relentlessly and viciously. It was like watching the _Birds _movie all over again, in Michael's opinion.

At first, he was frozen from the shock and cupped his hands over his head and neck to protect himself from any shattering glass or stray bullet. But as his guards died or left the car to fight back, he soon realized they had utterly left him alone in a very abandoned car. And the American doctor knew exactly what this meant: Freedom.

First, he grabbed one of the shards of glass and used the sharp edges to saw his way through the bonds, maneuvering his hands around so the glass would cut through rope and not his own skin. Once he managed to slice through all the layers of rope, he dropped the broken piece of glass and shrugged off the bindings on his hands, his shackles being cast aside. Now all he had to was get out of here.

Quietly, he slowly opened the left door (which faced the opposite direction of the battle) and stumbled out, landing on his knee and palms. The sound of gunfire, the dying, and wounded unnerved him but the taste of freedom melted his fears and guided him onward, away from the battle, away from the horrors, away from the idea of vampires and werewolves actually existing in this world. Michael ran, dodged, and weaved as fast as his legs could carry him and didn't stop sprinting even when his lungs were burning and on fire, his heart hammering so loudly in his ears and chest, and his muscles screaming for release. He only slowed his pace down when he reached civilization, a tiny, calm town far away and secluded from the inner city, not even near the gun fight that was occurring many miles away. He didn't glean how long and far he had raced but all he knew now was that he was safe. Safe from his captors and safe from their enemy, these so-called Death Dealers or vampires. No one would find him here.

Relief and exhaustion overcoming him, Michael sank to his knees, collapsing to the ground, his chest tumultuously heaving in and out, his lung gulping for more air. He realized he would have to eventually get up soon and find an inn to stay at but right now, he just wanted to stay right here and bask in his victory, his grand, unplanned escape. After today, he would put as many miles away from this place as he possibly could.

"Hey there…are you all right?"

The concerned voice brought him back out of his reverie, reminding the doctor of where he was. Slowly, he picked himself up and brushed the dirt on his jeans, looking up to face the bystander who just so happened to encounter him. Imagine his shock and amazement when he faced a young woman around his age with opaque eyes staring right at him, as if they were exchanging gazes.

"Uh, yeah, I am. Just a bit lost." Michael confessed, speaking in Hungarian. It was the truth, he was technically lost.

"So I take it you're not from these parts," the blind woman replied in the same language but Michael noticed like with him, she too was missing the typical accent. In fact, it sounded an awful like his own accent–or lack thereof.

"Yes…I was just visiting. But right now, I'm just looking for a place to stay for the night."

"Then look no further!" she exclaimed, ambling over to him to hook her arm around his own. It was then he noticed she didn't use a special walking stick or wear black glasses, which struck him as odd. Was she really blind? "I know a prefect place you can stay at and it won't cost you anything! In fact, I was heading back there right now. Aren't you a lucky fellow?"

"I wouldn't say that," he responded, thinking about the previous events that he had been embroiled in. The word "lucky" wouldn't begin to describe any of it.

Furthermore, he was uneasy, at first, to trust this woman but he had heard about the kindness of the locals in these areas to strangers, foreign or not. As long they weren't going to roast him and then eat him for supper, Michael was perfectly fine in staying the night at this woman's house without lightening up the thickness of his wallet.

"By the way, my name is Bristol. What's yours?"

"Michael," he found himself saying, "Michael Corvin."

* * *

The ambush did not finish exactly as she had planned.

Some of the lycans did perish but not enough to sate her hunger, her choler and of course, plenty of them got away, including the succubus. That only deepened her rage.

And top it off, the human called Michael Corvin escaped, dashing away all her hopes and theories to use him to understand more of the werewolves' plans and see if they knew anything about Markus.

Slamming her pistols back into their holsters, Selene made her way to the car, silently fuming as she took the driver's seat while Kahn settled for the seat next to her. "Look on the bright side. At least you were right." he had told her while she ignited the engine and sped on down the road leading to the highway. She remembered nodding mutely at his comment, not really listening and not really paying attention. She was just too busy envisioning Kraven's sneer (she knew for certain he wouldn't come up with anything from the lycans' base) and the disapprovingly lecture all of them would receive from Amelia, who would then go on to complain about all the time wasted, chasing after half accurate ideas and sloppy plans.

It was these moments where she missed Victor the most. He would know what to do in an instant.

"I know you don't like him, Selene, but maybe Kraven will return with something worthwhile for Amelia to keep the pursuit going," suggested Kahn in the middle of her musings. He only said those remarks to add a little hope to the situation, to give her ideas another fighting chance but he comprehended as much as she did that Kraven would definitely arrive back empty-handed and gloating over her lack of success. And she was getting extremely tired of Kraven getting his way.

"I'm not going let him win this, Kahn. Not this time." she growled between clenched teeth and took a different exit instead of cruising down the lane for ten more minutes and then taking the exit that would lead them to the coven. Kahn immediately noticed the change.

"Selene, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to get Tanis. At this point, I don't care if Amelia approves or not. We need his knowledge and expertise and we just can't afford to lose the war simply over foolish pride or the coven's strict code." The tone in her voice broke no argument. Kahn held back a sigh.

"Yes, but are you completely sure about this?" he asked her softly. He was willing to support her on this decision if she was willing to go through with the plan all the way, one hundred percent. She nodded stiffly.

"As sure as I ever am, Kahn."

The swarthy vampire leaned back in his seat. "Fine, then. Let's bring Tanis back to the coven."

* * *

"_The night is darkening round me,  
The wild winds coldly blow;  
But a tyrant spell has bound me,  
And I cannot, cannot go._

_The giant trees are bending_  
_Their bare boughs weighed with snow;_  
_The storm is fast descending,_  
_And yet I cannot go._

_Clouds beyond clouds above me,_  
_Wastes beyond wastes below;_  
_But nothing drear can move me :_  
_I will not, cannot go."_

_**-The Night is Darkening Around Me, **_Emily Brönte

* * *

Another chapter up and done. Hope you all enjoyed reading it.

And thanks to Celtic Aurora for reviewing! You never let me down.

And here are some previews to the next chapter:

**The Seven Deadlies were late.**

So, no matter which angle he viewed the situation from, he really had no choice in the matter.

_Thus, he was completely at Bristol's mercy, so to speak._

**In retrospect, it seemed like she slowly becoming a different person all on her own and Thanatos was the catalyst.**

"When I'm free from this petty sorcery, I will rend your vocal cords from your throat."

_But he always succeeded in revenge–always._

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


	13. XIII: Method to the Madness

**Ace in the Hole**

**Summary: **[Sequel to Celtic Aurora's Dark Ripples in Blood] When an arcane necromancer offers his allegiance and powers to help him defeat the vampires in the grisly war, Lucian cannot refuse. With Kraven as an unpredictable factor in the game, he needs an ace in the hole to win. [LucianxSonja & other various pairings]

**Chapter XIII:** _Method to the Madness _

Text:

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**Flashbacks**

Music/Poems/Sonnets:

"The Thing That Should Not Be" by Metallica

"The Power of One" by Sonata Arctica

**Disclaimer: *sings* No, I don't own Underworld! If I did, different ideas would have been unfurled! Lucian would be alive and rockin'! Victor shall be squawkin' and Kraven would be dead, with Markus holding his head. And that is all that needs to be said!**

* * *

"_Crawling chaos, underground  
Cult has summoned, twisted sound_

_Out from ruins once possessed_  
_Fallen city, living death_

_Fearless wretch_  
_Insanity_  
_He watches_  
_Lurking beneath the sea_  
_Timeless sleep_  
_Has been upset_  
_He awakens_  
_Hunter of the Shadows is rising_

_Immortal_  
_In madness you dwell_

_Not dead which eternal lie_  
_Stranger eons Death may die_  
_Drain you of your sanity_  
_Face the Thing that should not be."__  
_

_**-**__**The Thing That Should Not Be,**_ Metallica

* * *

The Seven Deadlies were late.

Nero had expected to hear from them hours ago but he heard no report of their success, as they should have finished the mission by now. No news was sometimes considered good news but in this case, it was far from it. Judging by the predicament, their quarry must have uncovered his assassins' intentions and fought back, naturally. Now, from the lack of information, it was clear to Nero that all of the Seven Deadlies were either dead or captured (yet the later couldn't be true because every assassin in the Order of Anarchy was trained to die first before becoming a captive. Hence, the special cyanide pills he created to kill any living creature on the face of this planet). So, he safely ruled them as "deceased".

"Pity," he muttered, sitting down in front of his desk, "It will be hard to replace them." He pulled out several cream vanilla sheets from the drawer and with an elegant ballpoint pen, began scribbling on the paper. The ink immediately vanished, dissolved into the note, salvaging the secret code. Since his second-best assassins were dead, logic only dictated that he send his very best, the Unholy Five. Apparently, he had misjudged the potency of Lucian and his army–perhaps they had assistance? After all, with a man like Victor, he had countless enemies.

Soon enough, Nero's work was completed and five neatly sealed and warded messages laid spread out on his table. He then placed his hands on the desk, his fingers and palms touching each and every folded note. Closing his eyes, Nero then commenced the spell, strange, deep incantations pouring out from his mouth while a shimmer of dark byzantium and argent rose from the surface of the desk and swirled around the five cards, threads of violet and silver constricting themselves around the pieces of folded paper. Suddenly, the secret messages slowly started to evanesced, disappearing from view altogether. Nero only halted the spell once he didn't feel the papers against his hands and opened his eyes to see the five letters had been delivered, reappearing into the homes of each member of the Unholy Five.

Smirking at the easiness and convenience of his delivery spell, Nero leaned back in his chair and summoned a decanter of brandy for him to enjoy. After all, who really needed technology so much when you had magic? Magic kept secrets far better than any powerful security system.

* * *

Tanis didn't know what to think when both Selene _and _Kahn barged into his private quarters. At first, he panicked because his first assumption was they uncovered the fact he had been supplying Lucian and his men with special military weapons and technology to fight off his own kind but the fear evaporated when he inspected Selene's visage more carefully. She didn't necessarily look like she wanted to wring him neck and then turn him into a corpse laden with bullet holes. Kahn was impassive as ever but Selene seemed impatient.

"Another visit, Selene?" he called out, wearing a cheeky grin to mask his nervousness, "Can't stay away from me, can you?"

"Tanis, I don't have time for this." There was that tone again, all business and no pleasure.

_I bet she wouldn't be saying that if we were having sex. _

Stunned by such a random (but oddly arousing) thought, Tanis nearly lost all sense of composure. If he hadn't possessed such supreme self-control (working for Victor always improved one's acting and lying abilities), he definitely would have been bombarded with images of a naked Selene and ogling her fine body, whether or not she was looking.

"Then whatever is the reason that brought you and Kahn to my humble abode? For more information about the succubus? I gave you one of my best tomes; surely that book sufficed enough!"

"I was wondering where you got all that information from," muttered Kahn under his breath, an amused smile on his face, "Good thing Amelia didn't ask."

Tanis feigned a wounded look on his face. "Don't tell the gracious Lady Amelia doesn't approve of my knowledge? And after all I have done for her…you'd think she'd be more grateful!"

"Yes…one would think," Selene uttered dryly, lifting her dusky eyes up to pierce the scribe with her uncompromising, frosty glower. Her tone implied edginess for Tanis's tomfoolery and she was quickly losing her patience. Tanis mentally sighed; why did she always have to be all serious and have no sense of fun or humor? She would lose the whole point and purpose of immortality and life in general.

"So Selene, can you tell me why you decided to return and bring a friend to my establishment?" Tanis reiterated, hoping the visit really didn't have to do with Amelia or Selene planning to keep her meetings with him hidden. Either option didn't sound appealing–at all. Selene shot him a stern look.

"I have come to bring you back to the coven. Despite what many might think, you're still of value. You'll be useful to us."

_Someone else has already taken advantage of that, sweetcakes. _

Regardless, Tanis's eyes sparkled with interest. "Does this mean my sentence has been lifted? I know you—"

"No!" came the sharp response from the irked vampiress and Tanis sighed, the fleeting illusion of hope dying once more into the embers. _I should have seen that coming. _

"Your sentence will remain and you will be placed under house arrest once we arrive at the coven," Kahn spoke up, his eyes narrowing at him suspiciously, "However, providing how cooperative you are, Amelia might be persuaded to lessen your sentence."

Tanis's brows furrowed, displeased with the offer he was rather coerced to accept. Even if he did reject the proffer, Selene would simply drag his ass back to the Ordoghaz coven and put him back into his old chambers, under lock and key. So, no matter which angle he viewed the situation from, he really had no choice in the matter. Either answer led to the same result.

"In case you haven't notice, I have been cooperating," Tanis pointed, making his reluctance and annoyance on the matter be known, "But since you two leave me with little room for argument, I am afraid I have no choice but accept." He then spread open his arms in a welcoming but mocking gesture.

"Now, take me back to that ghastly place I once called home. I am overdue for a lovely family reunion." In the end, Tanis wasn't sure if it was his sarcasm or the roguish smile he sent at her way that provoked Selene to roughly grab him and practically frogmarched him into her car, her trigger finger twitching the whole time.

At least he'll have a copious amount of opportunities to push her buttons…even if she presses a gun to his forehead.

* * *

Despite the amiable, cheerful nature of this woman called Bristol, Michael was still unsure and concerned about following a stranger back to her house–or a friend's house, as she mentioned before. But he needed a place to stay and since he had no money on him, an inn or motel was certainly out of the question. Thus, he was completely at Bristol's mercy, so to speak.

"Is your friend Catherine around?" he asked uncertainly, looking around him as he stepped through the door, into the strange but inviting house.

"No, I think she went out with a friend of mine. Her kids don't seem to be here either." Bristol replied with a frown. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a sheet of paper taped on the kitchen counter. Walking over to it, she picked up the note and read it thoroughly.

_Bristol,_

_You wouldn't pick up your cell so I'm leaving a message here. Catherine and I went with Markus in tow to see Lucian. Destroy this letter once you finish reading this._

_-Zael_

Sighing, Bristol did what her comrade commanded and crumpled up the letter, furtively using her magic to burn the note, a small fire flaring in the palm of her hands as it devoured the wrinkled paper. She had forgotten how paranoid Zael could be at times.

Once the fire vanished in her hand, she back into the living room and found Michael (it was funny that there were two Michaels in her life now) sitting rather comfortably on a sofa. She wasn't sure exactly how she should entertain the man before Catherine, Zael, and Markus returned and even then, it was best if Michael and Markus didn't met. It would raise eyebrows–and some questions.

_Perhaps it's best I should warn them about our new visitor prior their return. _

But first, she had to make Michael Corvin feel safe and at ease, she didn't want him thinking she was a serial axe murderer or something. Once Michael felt more like his usual self and was willing to stay the night, she'll call Zael and beg Catherine to let the poor man stay in her house. True, it was rather selfish on Bristol's part to spring this sudden news on Catherine (after all, it was her house they were using) but the more time she spent with Michael Corvin, the more she could feel the tugging of her sorcery. The magic in her very blood, coursing through her veins hummed and thrived whenever he was near. It was as if they had a mystical bond, a tie linking them together and they weren't even of aware of such connection.

Scoffing to herself, Bristol mentally shook this silly notion out of her head. This feeling, this urge couldn't be from her magic; the sensation probably derived from all those raging hormones of hers because she hadn't been on a date in several weeks and she was lucky enough to stumble across a good-looking fellow who was willing to spend a few days in her company, in the same house with her. Maybe that was just attraction she was experiencing. It made perfect sense!

"Bristol?"

Michael's voice jarred the witch awake and she blinked, clearing her mind.

"Sorry, my brain just wandered away from me," she said, giving him a smile, "I was going to ask you if you wanted anything to eat or drink."

"Are you sure your host won't mind if I start inhaling the contents of her refrigerator?" he questioned and Bristol nodded confidently, already heading back into the kitchen.

"She won't mind at all! Now, just tell me what you crave and let's see what I can cook up!"

Even as Michael rattled off the soda and the simple meal he wanted, Bristol still couldn't shake the remerging surge of emotions and magic she felt as she began preparing supper for their new guest. For a moment, without aid from her powers, she could have sworn she saw colors and clear shapes—

…And then everything was blurry again and it was only her magic that prevented her entire world from being swallowed by the darkness.

Bristol blinked, nonplussed at what had just betided her. Deciding it was simply a fluke and huge spike in her magic, she brushed the strange incident aside and went back fixing a meal for both her and Michael. Hopefully, by the time they were done, Catherine and Zael would be back in time for her to explain their new situation.

* * *

The coven was abuzz with gossip and rumors and normally, Erika would be listening intently to any intriguing bits of news or information she could use to her advantage but lately, Erika suddenly no longer had the desire to socialize or mingle with all the other reveling vampires. It was strange and the notion even baffled her a little because that was what she did, what was _expected _of her. It was tantamount to the idea that she had been wired to behave and perform in certain manner yet after her recent encounter and subsequence phone conversation with Thanatos, many of her routine mannerisms starting falling apart, as if they didn't appeal to her anymore. In retrospect, it seemed like she slowly becoming a different person all on her own and Thanatos was the catalyst.

Or maybe it was something else and she was just bored out of her skull. And also desire to see Thanatos again and not just have one measly phone conversation with him–which was still replaying in her mind, even right now.

"**I'm shocked you called me back." His tone seemed to be surprised, amused even. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."**

"**Well, since I decided to withdraw myself from being Kraven's personal errand girl, I have some more free moments to myself, which is rather nice I am starting to find out." **

"**Has he repented?" This time, all regalement died from his voice, switching to monotonous and cool. Erika wondered if it was just her being delusional or was this Thanatos's way of acting jealous.**

_**Maybe I am just getting a little bit too hopeful on this. He could just want to look out for me, like a friend or a protective brother. **_

**Either way, he certainly would like her answer. **

"**Not really. I'm not completely sure but he did attempt to worm his way back into my affections. It almost worked until I realized what he was **_**really **_**after."**

"**Let me guess: Sex."**

"**Bingo. And I was completely livid."**

"**You have every right to be. What did you say?"**

"**I told him to sod off and find someone else because I'm not going to be his little pick-me up item." Saying those exact words gave Erika so much power, so much strength that she could still taste the potency on her lips, burning deep inside her heart (not to mention the reaction on Kraven's face was absolutely priceless). **

**Laughter came from the other end of the line. "You really said that? My, my, Erika, I didn't know how feisty you were. Perhaps that little shove was all you needed in the right direction."**

**Erika chuckled along with him. "Tell me about it. I'm actually hoping I'll start to see less and less of him."**

"**And if he becomes trouble?" There was no missing the edge in his words. **

"**Just because I'm not a soldier like Selene, his future queen, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle and shoot with a gun." Thanatos's smirk was practically audible. **

"**Aim for the ass. That will send your message loud and clear." **

The phone conversation went on like that for a few minutes before Thanatos said he had to go–work needed him and he couldn't spare another second away from his duties. But he did say he enjoyed their talks and wanted to hear from her soon, whenever she got the chance again.

But Erika didn't want another phone call. She wanted to see Thanatos once more, face-to-face. She lost track of how long it had been since their first encounter but she desperately needed (or was that too strong of a word?) to seek him out and know more about this relationship of theirs and where exactly it was going. It seemed friendship-based yet…Erika couldn't shake off the feeling that the relation was slowly budding into something more, skirting across the borders of intimacy.

_Or perhaps this is me being silly again and simply moving my affinity from Kraven and over to Thanatos. …I really need a hobby. _

Despite all the uncertain musings swirling about in her head, Erika picked up her cell phone and dialed Thanatos's number anyway. She just had to find him and meet up with him again and sort of her feelings out–before getting hurt all over again.

Erika didn't like making the same mistake twice.

* * *

"Just because you have a little magical bond tying us together doesn't mean I have to respect you or carter to your every whim or desire!"

"On the contrary, Markus, you do. In this spell, I am marked as your master–and that makes you my bondsman, my servant." There was a smirk gracing Zael's face prior to adding, "Or my bitch."

"Funny, I was going to call you that."

"And here I thought with you Elders living for so long you would actually invoke some creative insults. Perhaps I should have lowered my expectations."

"When I'm free from this petty sorcery, I will rend your vocal cords from your throat."

"Not if I crush and shred your heart first."

Rubbing her temples, Catherine Van Helsing was forced to listen to both Zael and Markus bicker back in forth, insulting or threatening the other in gruesome or vicious details. Honestly, it was much worse compared to her children's fighting!

"Can you two keep it down? Lucian will be here any minute and I don't want him to see both of you squabbling at each other like an old married couple!" retorted Catherine, not even witnessing the frozen, awkward expression on Markus's and Zael's faces when she mentioned the "old married couple" part. If she did, the fallen angel-vampire hybrid would have laughed her head off.

Markus muttered a few words under his breath but his voice was too low and deep to understand clearly. Zael retreated back to her cold, stoic mask, one the Van Helsing woman noticed she would do too often when treading unknown or uncomfortable waters. The more time she spent with Zael, Catherine was beginning to sense that this icy azure-eyed stranger didn't like revealing her vulnerable side, even to her allies. And that just open a whole new set of questions that Catherine knew would never be answered. Zael was just one of those types of people who didn't like talking about herself or her past, reasons be damned.

_Lucian, I do hope you hurry up soon before the Bickersons here start another verbal spat. I don't think my nerves can stand another one. _

Thankfully, as if God himself heeded her prayer, the aforementioned lycan leader melted out from the shadows of the base, his quick, sharp eyes piercing everything as he cast his gaze around from Catherine, Zael, and Markus. His expression softened first upon seeing Catherine but the emotions soon change once he glimpsed at her companions. Lucian's eyes widen considerably when he saw Markus, curiosity and puzzlement flashing his orbs prior to redirecting his scrutiny to Zael. Catherine watched the silent exchange between them, wondering if Lucian could tell _what_ exactly Zael was. Catherine reckoned for a fact that she wasn't human but unlike Bristol, who flaunted her magical prowess around, Zael was rather tight-lipped about who or what she was.

"Lucian, I take it," voiced Zael, surprising everyone in being the first speaker. Her remark was more of a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, that is me," replied Lucian uncertainly, his stare shifting back to Catherine, wordlessly demanding some answers. Catherine took the hint and immediately inserted herself into the conversation.

"Lucian, this is Zael, one of the people I talked to you about. Bristol, her friend, is the other but she has been busy at the moment."

"Toiling away at her cauldron and cackling like a madwoman, no doubt," came the stinging comment of Markus, who looked the least bit happy compared to the rest of them. Zael cut him a venomous glower that could have poisoned an entire forest grove. She even elbowed him in the ribs and the vampire Elder sent her a death glare of his own. If they kept this up, Catherine and Lucian were going to have to separate them from each other.

"So they want to join my cause, correct?" resumed Lucian, ignoring Markus's interruption. Catherine nodded, hoping Zael wouldn't mind that she was speaking for both her and Bristol. Lucian glanced back at Zael and Markus and the hybrid huntress could tell more inquiries still lingered inside his head. _…Probably in regards to the vampire Elder._

"I don't mind the extra allies but can someone please tell me _why _there's a vampire Elder here?"

"Oh, him?" said Zael casually, acting like Markus's presence was no big deal, "He's insurance and revenge wrapped up in one pretty, neat package with a lovely bow on top."

* * *

Morfran O'Byrne was not like other men. He didn't even borderline "normal".

Before he was even born, his mother had forced his father into marriage to prevent herself from wedding another man, one she did not absolutely care for. As soon as her family found out about his father's abilities and the elemental powers had been passed down to him, straight from the cradle he became a tool for the O'Byrne family (he carried his mother's surname because the O'Byrnes refused to let their own take on the last names of any outsiders). Trained to be their personal assassin, Morfran was a professional killer, a man devoid of emotions and a conscience. These traits and his powers from his father and mother served him well, especially when he went on a massive killing spree and nearly massacred his entire family. But they deserved their demise, because after all, he was a son trying to protect his parents from a grim end, only to fail miserably. But he always succeeded in revenge–always.

So, for those who knew him or his story were always shocked and rather perturbed to uncover years later, he was married man with two children and with plenty more on the way. Granted, it helped that his wife was a werewolf and didn't seem to mind his past as an assassin but then again, he did owe his change towards her: Alexandra, his darling, feisty wife.

However, Morfran was no fool and suspected his past would slither up behind him and haunt him around every corner but he had never expected to fall into insidious ilk like Nero and his Order of Anarchy or be catapulted into one of the highest ranks, the Unholy Five. None of these events were planned or voluntary for Nero had merely crafted and executed a cunning scheme that entailed Morfran to be indebted to him, a price which forced him back into another assassination guild. And what was worse was the fact that Morfran didn't even ask Nero for help, the bastard simply knew Morfran's weak points: His family.

To this day, Morfran still couldn't decide who he despised more: Nero or his mother's family members.

Yet there were days Morfran would forget about Nero and the Order of Anarchy but when that rich, cream-colored vellum paper magically appeared on his table, taunting him with its innocence, Morfran recollected everything and was promptly reminded that if he didn't do his job, his family would be in immediate danger. And today was one of those days.

Sighing and gritting his teeth simultaneously, Morfran numbly opened up the message, wishing he could just sink his blade into Nero's flesh and carve that psychotic smirk off his face. Perhaps that was why Nero never left himself be alone with Morfran, he was smart enough to realize if given the chance, Morfran would go medieval all over him.

Gold eyes glazed over the blank paper, which suddenly became visible to him. The method was a part of Nero's spell, the ink would sense the blood of an Unholy Five member and would only emerge if that same person was holding letter and reading it. Alexandra one time tried reading the instructions over his shoulder but the words refused to appear until she left his side. But it didn't matter; he was still able to tell her about his tasks, unpleasant as they were.

_Dear Angel of Death,_

_Or is it Master of Ravens? I don't know which nickname you prefer these days but I like the first one better. It suits your personality more. _

Morfran hated it when Nero was in a joshing mood. His light-hearted but mocking jests were enough to tempt a man to rip his head off.

_I need you to come to the headquarters immediately. Your next assignment contains delicate matters and I want to explain the situation when all members of the Unholy Five are present. So don't be late, you know how much I loathe tardiness. _

Morfran wondered if the other assassins' letters were this personal. He read onward.

_Oh, and Morfran, if you do tell your pretty little wolf wife about this latest job, I will tear your tongue out, rape that werewolf bitch, and after painting your children's corpses red with her blood, I'll then turn her into a thrall. Is that clear?_

_Be a good boy for Daddy, Morfran! _

_-N_

And when he was finished carefully reading each message, Morfran would always conclude that these were the moments where he distasted Nero more than anyone else and thought of new, creative, and painful ways to torture the monster for even hinting to harm his wife and children.

However, no matter how many times he would try to forget the shadow of the Order of Anarchy looming over his household, Morfran Syam O'Byrne could never forget his absolute hatred for Nero Wentrcek. The loathing burned red hot inside his heart, consuming his mind and soul with swift dreams for a sanguinary, satisfying vengeance.

* * *

"_In your own blaze of hate you've spawn a fear in many lives  
You've taken action thinking it was all said on the signs.  
You cannot heal the feeling burning deep inside your spine  
You now collapse, cave in revealing scabby marks of life_

_Mother I've seen too much, I hate to live my life._  
_Forgot every word you told me, stubborn little child, (angel of your life)_  
_I have to find my Eden now, the gates I left behind._  
_But the pain will remain._  
_No power to gain._

_Now I have time to dwell on, self-awareness, dreadful crime._  
_I saw colors too bright, not knowing that I was blind._  
_I slayed a man who took a chance and drank the forbidden wine._  
_The map I draw reveals that I have been complete, machine, in team._

_Father I've seen too much, I hate to live my life._  
_Forgot every word you told me, stubborn little child, (angel of your life)_  
_I have to find my Eden now, the gates I left behind._  
_The pain will remain._  
_No power to gain__."_

-_**The Power of One, **_Sonata Arctica

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**Color Glossary:**

**Byzantium- **violet

**Argent**- silver

Sorry that this chapter came out so late, I keep getting distracted with video games, college life, and for a while, I was studying abroad in Germany and had an abundance of fun while I was there. But it's a new year so I'm determined to update faster and eventually finish this fanfic.

For those who are curious in who would play Nero, I decided that Andrew Scott, who is Moriarty in BBC's Sherlock, would be the perfect choice for crazy ole Nero. I've seen him act insane before so it was hands down for Andrew Scott being Nero's model.

Once again, I'd like to thank **Celtic Aurora **for her review and everyone else who took the time to read this latest chapter.

Previews for chapter 14:

"**You do realize that by defying me, you also defy Victor?"**

"Now, I shall begin the ritual process. Everything must be prepared for Victor's arrival."

"_I was the first vampire ever to be born, to be created!"_

**Nero definitely did not like cleaning up after other people's messes.**

For the first time in his life, Thanatos wanted to bash his head against the cement walls of Lucian's base.

"_Hello, Selene. Missed me?"_

Transmuting out,

_**:SpeedDemon315:**_


End file.
