Pilot

Rawson was just about ready to kill something. Or rather, someone. And he had only been in the car for half an hour. He never imagined he could be distracted from his thoughts about saving his brother, and his wait to hear back from Vor or Ben if they found anything, but apparently a cascade of small annoyances can distract the mind from just about anything.

For the first fifteen minutes, the radio played the entire time. And he never heard a full song. Apparently, Elenna was a channel clicker. In this case a radio scanner. The she finally found a string of songs she liked. The key word being she. It wasn't that Raws was insecure about his masculinity, he just sort of shared the blanket male hatred of being bombarded with constant Kelly Clarkson and Avril Lavigne and Brittany Spears and... well, the list would grow, he was sure. Rawson shuddered. He'd take ACDC or Bon Jovi or Jimmy Buffet or even a good country singer over this... whatever this was. He wasn't quite sure her song interests should actually be called music.

Then there was Nick. Apparently, Nick was pretty much the coolest guy ever. Sexy, fun, trustworthy, caring, etc. To be honest, Raws was a bit embarrassed that it took him a good five minutes to realize that he was currently sitting in Nick. He was one for a good car, make no mistake. In fact, he had it on good authority (the resulting prank war) that the only reason his parents hadn't bought Rome the Bugatti Veyron he'd asked for, is that they realized they would have to buy Raws one to. He grinned slightly. They probably didn't want to have to deal with his calculated, but speed demon type urges.

Speaking of speed demons. They were finally along the coast and heading north, with the ocean to their left, casually following the roads curves.

"Um, Elenna?" Rawson asked tentatively. He still wasn't quite sure what to think of her. She alternated between acting like a child, a semi-normal human, and a 'hunter'. And for some reason no matter what the persona, she seemed to think he was a blundering idiot. Honestly. He might not share her knowledge of supernatural lore, but her was one of the higher paid mercs in the area. And in hand to hand combat, he was certain he could take her. But she thought he needed help with a couple stitches or securing a bandage? They'd have to deal with this before they reached home.

Home. Hopefully Ben was taking care of things. But that didn't ease the sick feeling he had when he thought about the tall pillars and large porch running along the front facade of the house. The beautiful cliffs he had convinced Rome to scramble along with him as children. The ivy climbing up the garden wall and the turtles that liked to sunbathe on rocks in the stream. It was a good memory. A safe place. But somehow he felt that already that memory had been violated. Rome.

"Elenna?" She looked over. "Um, now that we're out of town, there aren't exactly that many cops that patrol this area. Is there any chance you can drive more like you did last night and less like you are right now?" Kind of blunt, but after the amazing action of last night's escape, today felt like a Sunday morning drive sightseeing. And Rome already had a lead on them. One that was quickly growing. Frack.

Elenna looked at Rawson innocently. Of course she knew how much he hated the music she was playing since they got in the car. But she really needed him suffer a little. She tries to be friendly offered him to help with the bandage, he just snaps at her. She changed her mind; he doesn’t take her in any way serious. The only thing he was serious about is to let her feel as if she was a stupid little girl.

There are two that can play this game.

She just looked at him, while she put a CD in the radio. In the pink display light of the radio Rawson could read the title of the CD “Long journey’s”, it didn’t reveal anything of the music on it. Elenna had actually bit her lip no to start laughing over Rawson worried face.

Oh yes he does hate the music, and if I wouldn’t be the one driving he would have killed me for my taste of music instantly.

The music started and Rawson did shiver by the first song.

Baby girl, close your eyes.
You don’t know the strength you have inside
if I could I'd shelter you from all the pain that we all must go through
but it’s up to you....

Elenna just couldn’t resist and waiting to answer him actually 3 minutes and 28 seconds.

“That is ‘Always there in you’ from the Valli Girls, just in case you wanna know it. Oh I know here are not that many cops.”

The song was over and it was so clear that Raws did fight against the wish to smash the radio so that is shuts up, until the little shock appeared on his face.

Back in black
I hit the sack
I've been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes, I'm let loose...

“I love this song! I wasn’t so sure if I can drive faster you look a little sick. I don’t want that you puke in the car or at all. But when you insist...” Elenna pushed the gas to speed the Mustang up. “I would nothing more enjoy to let him fly.”

Elenna did enjoy much more than just the speeding with her car. It is a while ago she enjoyed teasing someone and just the fact that someone else was in the car. She looked amused to Rawson, when she suddenly freak out.

“What the hell is that? I told you not to ruin the seats and now there is blood on them. A huge spot, do you know how hard it is to clean the leather from the blood. You friggin idiot! I told you!”

Elenna wasn’t paying any attention to the street anymore, which would be better by the speed she drove. She started to drift to the left side of the road, while she tried to touch the bloody spot on the seat next to Raws.

I hate him, oh yes I do and if is friggin brother would be possessed by the demon I hunt I would kick is ass out of my car and I would bother to stop for it! Oh I hate him!

Rawson stopped moving. His breathing slowed to the point where it was almost unnoticeable and couldn't have been heard even if they were standing indoors instead of driving up the coast. He felt himself settling into fight mode. Preparing for violence, even though he didn't expect it. Purging every emotion so that he wouldn't do something that could prevent him from getting to his brother in time. Not that ACDC would ever bother him, but in this situation he certainly wouldn't be enjoying it. She was playing games she really shouldn't be playing.

He looked down, at the place the ranting girl was pointing to. The stain wasn't quite the right color for blood. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken...

Rawson dragged his finger through the coagulated mess, and stuck it in his mouth. It garnered a reaction. But that was beside the point. "Chocolate. Nestle chocolate. Probably from a crunch bar, judging by the various spots. I can guarantee you that after a night of fighting I certainly wouldn't be carrying a half-eaten chocolate bar in your car."

Issues one and two resolved. We have more speed, and she looks surprised enough that she's not focusing on being totally Alia-post-possession on me. Ten hours at this speed. One more fight, and I can replace this with Rome. My Rome- the unpossessed one.

Rawson's phone beeped that he had a text, and he grabbed it out, turning slightly toward his window. She couldn't have read it anyway, but it paid to be cautious.

You sure known how to get yourself in trouble Rawsie. Working on the info you wanted, but I can already tell you you won't like it. What the frak happened to you two? Get back to you in a little while. Please be safe, and get Rome home safe. Love you.

Elenna looked from the chocolate stain to Rawson and back to the chocolate.

“That was gross. What if it had been blood?”

What the hell is wrong, I am actually looking to find with Rawson. He is well I guess a nice guy and I am really trying to piss him off.

She looked back at him, while he read the message.

“Anything important?”

He won’t answer anyway. Why do I even ask? He will disappear as soon his brother is safe and then I am alone again. Damn job, I wish it could be the other way around. That we are on our way to safe my brother, not his. I can’t believe it I am really jealous. But Raws is right; sometimes it is better to deal with someone dead then to see him suffer. Okay I even you don’t hear the promise, but well I do promise to be a good girl and play with the team and not against it. Even though I am green with envy.

“Sorry. I, I think I knew that was chocolate. I am sorry for the music and I am sorry I drove on purpose slowly. I didn’t mean to make you angry. I am not used to company and it is just a little irritating. You seem different then the guys I meet, well most of them are hunter and think they are the best. Well I guess I think you should know when I start to trust people I do talk a lot. I mean look at me I talk with my car as if it is a real person. Well he is the most important value in my life. He reminds me of ... well of someone. Anyway, I am sorry. Um, you wanna pick the music we listen to? Here are some CD’s I have or we turn the radio off, I don’t care. Just don’t be mad at me and remember I am driving so wait with you plan to kill me until we stop.”

Elenna was stroking in a little movement the steering wheel of the Mustang.

Sorry Nick, I don’t know why I always become such a bitch when your death anniversary is. I do try to be the way you always taught me, but you never told me how to be a hunter. Life was different back at these days.

“So how is your family? Do you have just one brother or other siblings as well? Is there a girlfriend somewhere? What are you doing for living? Where did you learn to fight?”

Elenna tried to smile even though it was not easy for her to ask all those questions, she was sure if she really wanted to hear stories about happy families. And also what she will do when Rawson starts to ask questions. She forced the Mustang to go a little faster, just to hear the sound she was used to on journeys like this. The roaring of her precious friend.

"It wasn't quite the right color or consistency for blood, and I had a pretty good guess as to what it was beforehand." Alright Rawson, let's try playing nice in kind and maybe we'll both survive this and still be ready for the fight in several hours. "It's not like I'm a D12 in taste and lick everything around me to get information."

He thought about her next question. "Anything you like outside of pop and girly crap's fine by me. Classic rock, classical, country, heavy metal, opera, musicals... pretty much anything goes. If it has a good beat or decent lyrics, it's fine."

Kill her? If I was planning to kill her, she wouldn't know about it in advance. And am I seriously that frightening? I mean, Rome's never scared of me. Well, maybe that time when he put purple die in my hair. But that was completely reasonable rage on my part. Huh.

"Wasn't planning to kill you. I'm better at it than that." He couldn't resist adding the last, even if it probably wasn't the smartest thing to inform someone of. "And I do pretty much whatever for someone who pays me enough. Bodyguard, test security systems, move s***- that's the job I was coming from when the demon found me. Anyway, deal with people in the trade and get paid highly for my skills about covers it. Keep things down low and hold secrets." Hopefully that was informative while still being fairly vague. His employers appreciated his discretion, and that included not telling random girls exactly what he did for a living.

"One twin, two parents, and then of course there's the inheriting side of the family. Grandpa Robert II, Uncle Robbie III and Aunt Ash, Uncle Blake, and cousins Holly, Vor and Ben. There's a few other offshoots of the family, but they're the main group. Oh, and the latter's nanny, Miss Jiyun." His eyes grew a bit harder. "And you won't be using anything you know about Rome or I against any of them."

Rome would probably inform me that that wasn't very nice to say. Dammit. I hate this polite conversation crap. Never know how much to tell, and hate telling people anything. Not really there business, is it? But I don't really want to stop and get another car now that we're going pretty fast. Besides, with Andre's strength, I could use an extra pair of hands. I wish Vor'd get back to me. How long's it been? Three and a half minutes. Come on!

"What about you? Family? Is there a job apart from Hunting? And do you know how to fight without heavy weaponry? Oh, to answer your question about fighting, here and there. Picked a lot up over a lot of years. But yeah."

He fell silent, offering her a chance to respond.

Okay Elenna why do you ask questions you don’t want to answer?

“On that CD is a mix of music and nearly no pop and girlie crap, we can skip it.” Whispered Elenna.

Where the hell is the hunter Elenna gone? I am better than that. Why should I be scared of a normal human? I fight demons and spirits and other scary stuff and I am sitting here and I am scared of a human. Well humans are unpredictable. Okay Elenna take a deep breath and answer. Well the answer you prepared for moments like this. It doesn’t work. Okay just avoid the horrible question.

“I guess I don’t wanna know what you mean that you are better at it than that. At least you get paid in your job. Like I said to be a hunter is not something you do to become rich. And no there is no other job, I sometimes play poker to earn some money and things like that. But I like to be a hunter most of the time. I safe people, I bring some light in a dark world.”

She pushed the Mustang to its highest speed. Even though she hadn’t forgotten his other questions she just stayed silence. They were flying over the street and so was the time.

It took Elenna two and a half hour to answer in a small voice. “No family, they all died a long time ago. They don’t belong to the world I am in now.” A little more confident she said. “What do you mean how do I fight without heavy weaponry? Just because I haven’t got out of the car to safe your sexy ass doesn’t mean I don’t know how to handle heavy weaponry. I mean, you haven’t seen what I have in my trunk. A lot of knifes and, well other stuff. I know how to fight; I am good in my job.”
Whoa I start to enjoy his company after he said when he would kill me he knew better to do it. I need to be careful and not get too used to the company. I just will have it for this job, not longer.

Elenna stretched in the seat and rubbed her eyes. Slowly she felt that the last night was just short.

“Would you do me a favour? In the door next to you is coffee chocolate, could you pass me that, please?”

Meanwhile, at the Remington Mansion...

One small hope glimmered in Rome's breast. Andre knew it, and laughed at it--nothing could be secret from the demon, but it could still exist--but Rome held tightly to it. He knew he couldn't fight Andre, certainly not since the introduction of the bracelets, but maybe he wouldn't have to.

Mother and father were meant to be in Paris this time of year. It was late summer, the time when he and Raws would have had the place to themselves. He had imagined summer breaks there from attending some Ivy League college where he wouldn't learn anything but would get to screw around with computers and stuff: instead he'd followed Rawson into the military, where they ended up with sort of random four-week leave periods of time when they were at home, so that Rome at least had taken care to learn his parents' travel patterns: London in the Spring, Paris in the late summer, and alternating Italy and Greece every winter. There was a good chance Roger and Mariane Remington just weren't home.

This hope was quickly crushed as pulling up to the iron gates revealed lights on inside, and a cab just pulling away. A quick glance at the west wing revealed darkened windows: none of the staff were home yet. Andre flipped off the lights on the bike and waited until the taxi exited before slipping through the gate and sprinting past the carriage house, past the fountain, and straight to the front door.

No...please...

Andre forced the door with surprising ease, stepping into the foyer to silence the alarm with codes wrenched from Romulus' resisting but powerless mind.

Footsteps. Men's footsteps.

Dad? No, wait, don't! Dad!

Roger Remington stopped dead in his tracks. Glasses pulled off his nose. Suit jacket dropped to the floor.

"Romulus?" he whispered.

"Think again," Andre grinned.

Bones snapping. Body lowered soundlessly to the ground. A last look at the head, turned at an awkward angle, eyes frozen wide open in confusion and terror. The eyes that used to smile at him when he scored a home run at T-ball. The eyes that stoically taught him not to cry at Granny's funeral. The eyes that gazed proudly on him when he and Rawson had come home, newly promoted Lance Corporals. Seeing those eyes empty...it made Rome want to scoop his own eyes out with a melon baller.

Rome knew better than to think that his life could not possibly suck any more. You'd think after eight months of demon possession he would have learned that. Rather, the sharp sting of pain as he realized the click-click-click on the hardwood floors were his mother's shoes, and that the voice calling "Roger, who was at the door?" was his mother's voice, caught him completely by surprise.

Mom?

He felt himself falling, drifting away into comfortable darkness where, if he couldn't do anything about it, at least he wouldn't have to watch, but at the same time he felt himself being dragged upwards, bodily, forcefully, with that express purpose.

"Come, now, I'll have none of that. You'll want to see this."

Rawson laughed a little at the poker comment. "I can't gamble," he said in way of explanation. "If you were to bet on a shooting match at the range, I'd win. But as far as bets on horse races, craps, pool- I generally have the opposite of luck." He shuddered briefly, remembering his first trip to a casino with Rome. Of course, it hadn't been completely disastrous- Rome's remarkable winnings almost made up for his losses.

Hmm- saving people and being a light in the dark. I could totally see Rome getting into this hunter crap. 'Course, I see no reason why you can't hold another job as well. The merc trade works fine alongside something else. And there's gotta be some kind of an underground dealing with supernatural s***. Not the loonies, I mean, but people who know it's real and are dealing in the actual goods. Note to self- might be worth looking into.

He grabbed a coffee chocolate sugary caffeinated mass from the door and carefully handed over to Elenna. Stuff looked more dangerous than a chunk of C4, and given the effect chocolate or sugar or caffeine alone tended to have on twenty-first century Americans... well, he wasn't sure he wanted to see what they'd all have as a mix. That had to be some sort of poison for the human body.

Rawson sat back a little, enjoying the feeling of flying down the highway. Someday, when all this crap was over, he and Rome were totally going halves on a Bugatti Veyron. He could understand Rome's obsession with the car if it meant going twice as fast as this without putting real strain on the car.

"Well, I suppose the necessary pleasantries are over with. Now that we're both uncomfortable as it is, perhaps you could help me understand a few things. How do you get a demon out of someone? Is it like a full on exorcism? Do you need a priest? And what things, other than your 'holy' water can harm it? What other kinds of supernatural creatures have you fought, and how do you know how to find them? Are there many hunters out there and is it a whole culture, or just a few isolated people? Also, is it the Judeo-Christian mythology that's proven true, or is it various mythologies and folklores that are real? Werewolves, fairies, leprachauns, vampires, sidhe, trolls? Are they all real?"

Nicely stated, if I do say so myself. Also, note the innocent question regarding culture- it would be nice to know if there's a good market in this, even if she doesn't actively participate in it.

“You know this is just chocolate, it won’t explode or something. It keeps me awake. So in case you like living the way you are and don’t wanna crush in the next tree I have my chocolate. Besides I am a girl we love chocolate.”

Elenna smiled at Rawson.

It was about time, that he relaxes a little. He doesn’t appear so scary when he is not ready to jump.

“About you questions. Yes the safest way to get a demon out of someone is to exorcism him, and no you don’t need a priest. To exorcism a demon you trap him in a devil’s trap and read aloud a prayer, psalms and the exorcism proper. You just need the Ritual Romanum, it was first published by Pope Paul V, but it stayed untouched until 1952, when two minor revisions were added. It is the only formal exorcism rite sanctioned by the Roman Catholic Church. That is the way most of the possessed humans survive as long their body has no fatal injuries. But there is also a myth about a gun, special gun. In 1835 the times were dark and there was one man Samuel Colt, who made a gun for hunters. This gun can kill anything, the host and the demon. But this is just a myth; I have talked to anyone who truly believed in. And I don’t believe that there is a gun which such powers. Anyway there are more true weapons against demons. Do you remember the mineral lines in the motel room? It was rock salt and this keeps all kinds of spirits out. I also know that salt has a similar effect on demons as holy water. And there are also symbols that keep evil away, like this one.”

Elenna lifted her right hand to show Rawson her silver bracelet with a plated pentagram with rays of the sun surrounding it as one of the pendants.

“It is easy to find them, have a look through the papers and death that just seems not normal can have a supernatural cause. I am since ages a hunter. I fought quite a lot. I fought once a werewolf, a lot of ghost and also demons. I am good in fighting demons. I speak useful languages to fight them. I am fluent in German, Latin and ancient Greek. Yeah there are some hunters out there, but I have no idea how many, we are mostly not the share and care type of people. But yeah there are some out there; you meet them in some places easier than in other. I was once in a saloon in the middle of nowhere in Nebraska and I think most of the guys in there where hunters. I think there are more hunters out there than you actually see. A lot of folklore and myth from all around the world are true. I mean I fought a werewolf myself not a nice job, because you can’t safe the poor soul that turns into one. I know vampires are true as well,” Elenna smiled over the idea that he really thinks every fairy tale is true.

“But not every fairy tale is true. Never heard of fairies, leprechauns, sidhe, trolls. This doesn’t mean they are not somewhere in the dark, but I learned just to believe in things I saw or know people they saw it. So I am sorry to disappoint you when I say that I am damn sure you don’t find a fairy which shows you how to fly. But yeah a lot of them are real.”

He is asking a lot about my world. Most people don’t want to know everything. Could it be that I am about to teach a new hunter? That would be bad, I don’t wanna pull him in a life that is so, so dark and lonely.

“But Rawson, you don’t need to know all this to help your brother. I mean I don’t think your girlfriend would be to happy when she finds out what you know about my world. Most people will think you lost your mind, so it is the best when you stay away from the supernatural as far as possible.”

Elenna looked concerned at Rawson.

Hopefully I haven’t told him already too much.

Meanwhile, back at the Remington Mansion...

Please, God, no. Not Mom, please. No... Romulus didn't bother beating against the bars of his prison, or straining against the chains. He was resigned to moaning and rocking back and forth, like the feverishly depressed or the insane. That the demon would take pity on him and show his mother mercy was his only hope--and he knew what a foolish hope it was.

Andre dredged up Romulus' famous I'm harmless, really grin from wherever Rome had stowed it, and flashed it at her. She stood in a white blouse and pencil skirt, matching purse hanging limply off her arm, the light shining behind her creating a halo around her chestnut-brown hair.

Rome had a good last look at her, for she stood there a while, just staring at him. It wasn't quite shock, Rome decided--he was good at reading people, great at reading his parents--which was what it should have been, like his dad, confronted with a ghost from the past. There was recognition there, but not the sort of recognition of a mother seeing her son, either: there was something more. Something wrong.

Then she saw the body of her husband. And there was something wrong with this reaction, too: she didn't scream. She wasn't bewildered, distraught, horrified, or confused. In fact, this sight seemed to decide her, somehow. She looked back up at him, then down at the body again.

"Mother, I'm home," Andre sneered.

Romulus almost didn't see the movement. Presumably in the time it took to blink, Mariane had pulled a handgun from her purse, cocked it, and aimed it at his heart, taking on an aggressive stance he'd only ever seen when a teacher had accused him of cheating on a math test.

"You're not my son. And I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of him before I blast you so full of holy lead you're gonna be Satan's paperweight for the rest of eternity."

Rome blinked. He wanted to clean out his ear to make sure he'd heard right, but the reception was pretty good in here. Feeling the happiest he'd been in months, Rome found himself cheering,

Holy sh*t! Go, Mom!


((Mrs. Mariane Remington, played by Sigourney Weaver, because I just couldn't resist.))

Rawson shrugged.

"Eh. Might not need it to save Rome this time, but given the crap I generally find myself in, knowledge of any kind is good knowledge."

Rawson suddenly had a vision of himself shooting rock salt instead of bullets at enemy agents. On the one hand, it would be a good way to wound without killing. On the other hand... not as accurate, and he could just imagine the response and what it would do to his reputation.

Maybe that's not such a good idea. Oh well. Hmm, if most folklore has a basis in fact than who's to say there aren't sidhe or at least something similar. Perhaps they're local to older areas though- you wouldn't necessarily find every supernatural critter in the continental US, now would you? I mean, I know people think we Americans are egotistical, but to expect that would just be insane. Worth considering later, at any rate. I wonder what people would pay for a werewolf pelt if they knew it was real? I love my job sometimes, I really do.

"Girlfriend? Who has the time and why bother. I can find far more valuable things to do with my time, and have no real interest in sitting around courting someone. Besides, in this modern world who needs real commitments? Er, no offense meant or anything."

He thought back on what she said about exorcisms.

"Anyway. Who'da thought the RC Church would have it's supernatural stuff down right. Yay for old popes. Not to be a pessimist or anything, but you said you need to get them in a devil's trap- like, Key of Solomon type thing I'm guessing. Do you really see Andre just walking into to a bunch of symbols that scream "Danger, Will Robinson!"? I mean, the creature definitely isn't something I like, but I have to respect his abilities as a fighter, in the physical, strategic, and mental sense. And I don't see him doing something that could cause him harm."

And that would be a major problem.

“Yeah I know that will be a problem how we get Andre in the trap. It often helps when the traps are under the ceiling or under a carpet. I am good in making them but even I do need 10 to 15 minutes to make one. So do you think you could distract him long enough? I mean I have holy water and shotguns which fire rock salt. That might help, but you fought against him before. He is fast and strong. And I guess you should know something else. Andre is not having a cup of tea with your parents. I think they might be… dead. Even when they are just injured we have first get rid of Andre and then try to fix everyone.“

Elenna parked the car outside a large iron gate.

“Whoa, that is where you grow up? Should I say Sir to you, or something like that?”

Damn he is a rich guy. Damn, damn, damn.

Elenna got out of the car and walked to the trunk to open it.

“Rawson get the hell over here. Here take this one, that is holy water in the bottle and in the shotgun is rock salt here are more shells for it. And I need you hand for a second.”

Elenna grabbed Rawson uninjured hand. She was nervous like always, so she was cold.

He has a nice warm hand.

She drew with a permanent maker a pentagram with rays of the sun surrounding it on his hand.

“That is a protection against possession. Ready to go?”

That is the most stupid idea I ever had. I am never that less prepared for a hunt. We will be so in trouble in there.

"Well, it's lovely to see you again, too, Mariane."

"One...two...."

Now Romulus noticed that mother's hands were trembling faintly, and tears threatened to blur her vision. Okay, that was good: she wasn't some sort of terminator or cylon skinjob. She did have some explaining to do--about why she had the gun, how she knew who this demonic frakker was, and how the hell she got off calling bullets "holy"--but that could wait. Rome was suddenly reminded of the time when he was four when he had locked himself in the car, and he was so distraught that all he could do was scream and cry and shout "Lemme out! Lemme out!" and pound on the windows while Rawson looked on, helpless, also pounding on the windows and crying, until Mom had brandished a coat hangar, almost out of nowhere, with which she deftly popped the lock. He had been sure his mother was Superwoman and had saved him from a fate worse than death.

A bit melodramatic then, but now he felt the "Mom! MOM!! Lemme out! Please get me out!!" rising up in his chest was warranted here.

"Oh, come now, Mariane. You wouldn't want to damage your boy now, would you?"

It was strange, but Romulus actually felt the impact of the bullet before he even heard the report of the handgun, or even that she said "Three." The shot clipped him in the shoulder, as if she had been aiming for an instant kill but at the last second couldn't bring herself to do it. Or Andre shifted his shoulder just enough out of the way to keep him alive but not unharmed. Rome couldn't be sure. All he was sure of was how badly he wished the bullet hadn't missed his heart.

Andre flinched and doubled over in pain: so there was something special about the bullets, then. "I suppose his life is of little consequence to you, then," he snarled.

"You know as well as I do that being ridden by one of you is worse than dying." And she pulled the trigger again.

And again. She kept firing until the clip was empty.

Superficial wounds, he thought, but seeing your mom shooting at you with nothing but cold hatred in her eyes wasn't something you just got over.

Neither, Rome reminded himself, in spite of everything trying to look on the bright side, is watching yourself kill your mother, so just be grateful your mom's secretly some sort of assassin.

Her form was perfect, though it was a shocking sight seeing her moving like a fellow Marine in the clean white Dolce getup. Andre was dodging, though, and very few of the bullets connected with anything really important--or so he figured, as pain had long ago shut off--or rather, it all hurt, rather indiscriminately, so it was hard to tell--and he grinned widely as the chamber clicked empty. Rome saw a flicker of intense pain flash through his mother's eyes--not fear, only sadness, at seeing her son's face twisted into such evil, no doubt.

And Andre was laughing, the sound grating on Rome's ears worse than nails on a chalkboard. "Worse than dying, 'eh?" He sounded like a stupid melodrama villain, all he needed was a handlebar mustache to twirl. "That's a bold statement, seeing as how you have nothing to compare it to."

Rome went cold. There was just enough of a covert threat embedded in the sentence that Rome immediately fell into the void of despair again. No, no, no...please, no...don't...

But Andre didn't move. She did.

Using some power Andre had apparently been saving just for this occasion, with a sweep of his arm--you think you're some kind of Jedi, waving your hand around like that?--there was a woosh and Rome saw his mother fly across the room to connect with the far wall with a sickening crack. But she didn't fall. She just stayed, pinned there, like a butterfly on a bug board, as Andre slowly meandered over.

Once he was close enough to touch, Andre just grinned at her, and Rome felt his eyes burning black as his mother's chest suddenly, inexplicably exploded with blood, the stuff pouring out her mouth, nose, even her eyes.

No! Nooo!! Mom!! Please, don't...no...Mom...

Her dying screams quickly overwhelmed his sobs.

And that was when Romulus truly broke. Like a matchstick, like a young horse, like a bad habit: broken.

Home sweet home. It looked just like he remembered- as though he were there yesterday. Green ivy climbing up the garden walls and mulched paths leading into the landscaped portion of the woods. The driveway was an artful brick design, and at the corner of the gate he could just see the stone he and Rome had carved their initials into when they were younger. Their parents initials were carved into the cornerstone of the house- the foundation, so Rome had thought to put theirs on the gate, the edge of the property joining it with new adventures in the wide world.

Rawson flinched lightly at the comment about his wealth, and the hand that suddenly grabbed his. He managed to keep from reacting violently, but only just.

As for the shotgun, it was pretty decent- he tossed it up and checked the balance on it. Not that shotguns were ever the most precise guns, but it seemed decent enough. Of course, that could mean he'd be pumping Rome full of rock salt. It wasn't an appealing idea. Not at all.

And as he finished double checking his own weapons, his pants started to vibrate. Elenna mentioned something about going in, but Rawson was no longer paying attention. He had a new text from Vor (Read email now Rawsie. And I do mean now.) and an email that was just downloading onto his phone.

Hi Cos,

First of all, I don't know what the hell you two got into, but don't take off the bracelets. Or, if you want to, put both of them on yourself. With them attached to you together, they should be pretty much impossible to force off without you desiring it.

I got them from a Roman excavation, but there's a lot of lore surrounding them. They kind of made sense to give you kids 'cause of your names. But they're supposed to be powerful- they were taken out of a temple site, and it cost a small fortune to get you such a unique and oddly fitting gift.

The pieces are called Venator Liberi Lupus - basically The Hunters, Children of Wolves. The mythology has the pieces dating back to around the time of Romulus and Remus themselves and the foundation of Rome. (So, post Trojan War but pre Caesar.) They're meant to bind people together- a kinship bond of sorts. They increase empathy between wearers, and supposedly even allow for shared pain and healing, and the creation of a telepathic bond. According to the folklore I've found, at any rate. Somehow I don't exactly see you and Romie speaking telepathically- you already have your own language of sorts, so why bother?

Even assuming there's some truth to the tale, I don't seen anything particularly dangerous if you two are wearing them- you both have strong wills, care about one another, and are brothers- the people the bracelets are meant for. Just don't let anyone else get their hands on them, 'kay cos?

See you two later. And you definitely have some explaining to do. I've attached some of the parchments and temple wall I've been working with to get your info. Don't ask how I do what I do- just trust in the magic of my research. Give me a call soon, alright? Love ya.

Frack. Gorram and Frack.

"Ah, not quite ready to go in Elenna. I think you might want to hear this."

And he proceeded to share the information with his 'hunter' companion. Because if these bracelets effected Andre in any way, he wanted to know about it before going into a situation half-cocked. After all, he didn't even have supreme knowledge of the territory. The battlefield was of Andre's choosing, and his knowledge from Rome would let him know every secret of the mansion that Rawson knew himself. They were going to be at a severe tactical advantage, and given the knew info, their position looked even worse.

“Okay we need some help of a hunter. Wait a moment, I’ll text Bobby and ask him what he knows. I can remember I read once about some bracelets like this, but I thought they are just a hunter fairy tale.”

Elenna took quickly her phone and texted Bobby.

Hey Bobby I need your help. Do you know the myth about the Venator Liberi Lupus? Well I know a demon who wears them both. I guess if they are real that this is bad. I think I read in one of your books something about it. Please tell me you know what I am talking about and know how to help me. Elenna

This doesn’t look to good. I think we are in real trouble.

“Okay, we don’t really have any option what we can do. So let’s go in and see what we can do. And to tell you the truth, I think we are in trouble. I read something about those things. I can’t really recall it, but there was a problem when one person wears both bracelets. I just can’t remember what it was. So let’s go inside the big scary looking house.”

Rawson couldn’t really stop her. She was already on her way to the main entrance of the mansion. Elenna opened the front door, Rawson was just behind her.

“I guess that is not a good sign. Is that your dad? I am sorry Rawson, really sorry!”

Elenna tried to hear where Andre was, but the house was just too big for that. They had to be careful.

Alright, we could always take the garden entrance or the kitchens- that would probably be... too late. Nevermind, Raws. Wait a minute- scary? Please.

She barged into the house like she owned it, and Rawson followed a step behind, gun in hand and ready to grab for a knife as well at a second's notice. The door opened to the entrance hall, vase of flowers next to the gilded mirror, and polished marble tiles reflecting the passage of passerby. It was just like he remembered, aside from the blood and ceramic shards covering part of the floor.

And his father.

Dad. Gods, Dad. Oh Rome. Mom.

Rawson froze for a moment at the sight of his father's body, littering the marble like a tossed aside rag doll. There wasn't a chance he was alive- Rawson could tell his neck was snapped. Gods. His mouth tightened slightly, and then relaxed.

Alright. Suppress emotions while you are engaged in battle. Mother could still be alive and Rome likely is. There's also the household staff to think of, if they're working today. Remember that the enemy knows the territory. Where would Rome go, and how will Andre exploit that knowledge?

He glanced briefly at Elenna, barely seeing her, and started to move up the staircase, carefully to avoid the twelfth stair and point it out- it tended to creak- and preparing to start the search from he attic down. He didn't want to be on the lower ground for this confrontation, so starting at the top seemed to be the appropriate plan. He held his gun in a relaxed grip, eyes constantly scanning the area, and moved into the upper hall.

Less Andre heard and more he felt when the two proto-hunters--well, the hunter and the loose canon--entered the house. The ridiculous muscle car's engine was very loud and highly recognizable, so even if he hadn't guessed who was foolish enough to encroach on his territory, he would have known from the sound of the revving engine alone. But the actual entry was silent, and he had to prick up his various sixth, seventh, and eighth senses to locate them. Rome might have called what he felt a disturbance in the force, but, then, Rome wasn't here anymore...

Andre chuckled a bit as the loose canon darted past the room he was in, up the stairs to start a top-down search, leaving the she-hunter, clutching a bit of chalk--oh, like I don't know what that's for--in a trembling fist. Andre reviewed his options. Wait for her to pass by, sneak out the door, and disappear. That was somehow grossly unsatisfying. I am in blood stepped so far, as Macbeth had said, that should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er. Blood did have a way of begetting more blood: the more he spilled, the more he wanted to spill.

No, his only option was a direct confrontation. Kill this she-pup before she did any real damage, certainly, and watch the worm whose meatsuit he was borrowing wriggle and squirm as he squelched his twin's blood between his fingers. That would be a level of anguish you didn't get to see every day. And he had been out of Hell a while. He was almost beginning to miss it.

"Well, if it isn't the too-little-too-late crew," Andre said, schooling Rome's features into a shark-like visage, all black eyes and toothy white grin. Elenna's gasp of alarm was all she could muster before he threw her against the far wall without touching her before letting her drop to the ground. He wheeled on the stairs, at the top of which stood Rawson, who had a gun trained on him but clearly wasn't going to use it.

Gods. He barely even looks like Rome anymore.

"How about you back the frack off Andre and I'll think about playing nice."

He kept the gun carefully level, safety off, finger on the trigger. While it wasn't the greatest option, Rawson was willing to use it. He'd just make sure to aim for the center of mass. Rock salt in the torso would hurt like hell, but a face shot could potentially kill Romulus. Which, in all honesty, he'd prefer to avoid if at all possible. And on that note...

"I was willing to kill you before to save Rome, and I'm willing to do it now. So how 'bout you back away from the kid and we'll talk."

Elenna groaned she had an iron taste in her mouth. Her mouth was quickly filling with blood, she felt nausea. She felt in every part of her body pain. Really slowly she pushed herself in a sitting position and spit out the blood, which didn’t really help. She could feel the hole in her tongue.

Damn that did hurt a lot. That wasn’t funny.

Elenna quickly drew a symbol on the inside of her hand, lifted her hand and shouted, while she spilled more blood on the floor.

“Luft um uns herum wehe!”

An incredible strong wind came from Elenna’s hand; it forced her back against the wall right at Andre.

Oh, now isn't that cute? Andre thought. The "kid" could do magic. Bet that gets her loads of friends in the Hunter circles. The blast of wind was powerful, knocking him back into the wall and even dazing him for half a moment. But it knocked him beneath the stairs, out of Rawson's range, and it was readily apparent that this was the strongest spell in her arsenal. She looked aghast, as if that was meant to have done more damage. It had, maybe, to the host, but to him? To Andre, Hades' Treasure? A little new-agey softcore witchcraft was trying to hurt him?

"You've become more trouble than your worth, girl," he snarled. His face half in shadow, he closed his eyes, fixating on the chandelier hanging above her head until it ripped from the ceiling to crush her. A flurry of other household objects, vases, lamps, priceless painting, launched in her direction.

He didn't even wait to see how good his aim was--distraction would be sufficient--before blinking out of there. He liked teleporting, but it took a lot out of you, so all he had prepared for the Remington brat when he stepped out of the shadows beside him was a little nudge in the direction of the stairs. As in, down them.

Oh- joy. She blasts my brother with a coriolis storm attempt. Not a great one, apparently. That's got to be damaging him, but I'm pretty sure she said that kind of thing wouldn't hurt Andre at all. And now I don't have a shot- if Rome's gonna be hurt I'd rather it be for a productive reason.

He looked for a moment at his father's body, which has moved a couple feet with the wind. Rawson was starting to wonder if anything would be left unscathed in the foyer by the time the fight was over.

And then Andre was gone, and he felt Rome close by, and he was flying down the stairs. He tucked and rolled into the fall, allowing his arms to guide him without bracing enough to snap. This was even more intense than what he'd done in training. As he hit the floor, he rolled up into a crouch, though it would take a minute to reorient and check limbs before he was ready to stand. Nevertheless, a knife quickly appeared in his hand as he tried to focus his gaze up the flight of stairs.

How the frack did he get up there? I hate this supernatural s***; so unfair in a fight. I mean, opponents with different skills are all well and good, but it's like anything imaginable goes right now.

"I grow tired of playing games with you children."

Andre descended the stairs, step by slow, deliberate step. He was in no rush. The boy was waiting, poised to attack but deciding it would be smarter not to; the girl was barely picking her way from beneath a pile of rubble. They eyed him warily now, almost fearfully, knowing they couldn't fight and wondering if they could instead talk their way out of this one. That was good. He always liked this part best.

"And I'll enjoy tearing you apart. Bet your brother will enjoy it, too, just like he enjoyed taking care of mommy and daddy. Still in here, you know. Still alive...I think. Haven't heard from him in a while, actually."

Andre was just deliberating which of the two he wanted to kill first, and how, stepping off the last of the stairs. Andre felt a sudden inexplicable tug, but he shrugged it off and continued advancing on his quarry. Rawson edged back, pushing the still-dazed girl behind him. Andre took another step. Six would close the distance between them--he'd already decided to crush the boy's skull in his hands--five paces away. Four. Three. Two.

Two.

That strange tug, but stronger now, and all around him, immovable.

"No."

No, she didn't, she couldn't. Mariane wouldn't have devil-trapped her elegant mansion...She's been too long out of the business...

But Andre saw the edge of the symbol, carved faintly into the ground beneath the wealthy Turkish rug. A crescent moon with just a trace of grimoire text, the point of the heptagram which he knew continued, all but hidden beneath the show of opulence.

Something jostled Romulus awake in his desperate slumber of depression. It took him a moment to remember where he was--a prisoner inside his own body--and to even remember why he had been so distraught as to entirely shut down--he had just witnessed himself murdering his own parents--and even longer to pinpoint what had awoken him. It wasn't Andre, dragging him up to watch something horrible, though he did expect that for whenever he caught up with Raws--he felt sick just thinking about it.

If it wasn't Andre, then he had come to on his own. And that was when he knew what it must be. The possession thing didn't go both ways--Rome couldn't hear Andre's thoughts, read his mind, or feel his emotions as nakedly as Andre could observe his. So it came as both a shock and a delight when Rome realized what had woken him.

Andre was afraid.

Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!

Elenna smiled evil and pushed impatient Rawson away and ignored all the pain in her body.

“Move, it is my time for action.”

She looked at the trapped Andre.

“You know if I wouldn’t know that it hurts Rome I would so beat you, but I am such a nice girl. I never hurt the meatsuit more than necessary. So let me begin the show and send you back to hell, where you belong.”

That was the part Elenna liked the most. The moment the pain-in-the-ass-demon is trapped and she can easily get rid of him.

“Regna terrae, cantate Deo,
psallite Domino
qui fertis super caelum
caeli ad Orientem
Ecce dabit voci Suae
vocem virtutis,
tribuite virtutem Deo.
Deus caeli, Deus terrae,
humiliter majestati gloriae Tuae supplicamus
ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate,
laqueo, deceptione et nequitia,
omnis fallaciae, libera nos, Domine.
Vade, Satana, inventor et magister
omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.
Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei—
What the hell is going on? You should be in pain, by now. Fly around in the trap. What!?”

The winning grin, on Elenna’s face, has disappeared. She looked more than ever like a little lost girl.

Rawson backed up slowly, watching Andre move down the staircase. His shotgun had skidded a few yards behind him and to the side during the fall, and he didn't think it would be a smart move to try and get to it. Instead, he backed up slowly, keeping his knife at the ready, trying to maintain a bit of distance as Andre moved forward. He pushed the dazed Elenna behind him gently. As annoying as she was- and they would be having a nice chat later (assuming they survived) about demonic powers- he felt vaguely obligated not to put a woman-child on Rome's conscience.

This is not a good thing. And there's the wall behind me. Stuck. Alright, maybe I can shove Elenna left and dive for the gun. It'll only work if he isn't expecting it though- there isn't enough room to outrun him given how fast he is.

And a moment later, feet from them, Andre stopped. "No," he said. And it was enough to make Rawson smile, because that caricature of his brother's face, demented though it was, was now clearly portraying Rome's look of shocked surprise and slight horror- much like the time when he'd been caught red-handed in the middle of a return-prank on Rawson. Idiotic, really, to get caught like that. When you're sabotaging a room, you really should make sure no one's going to come home in the middle of the set-up.

Rawson followed his eyes down, and saw the edges of a drawing under the old carpet. It had been there... forever... and was really the perfect place to hide a nice booby-trap.

Benny, if this was your doing, thank you. Thank you and Vor so much.

And this was the break he'd been waiting for.

And suddenly he was shoved to the side in the wrong direction by the girl-child-witch-person. As she started smirking and chanting, he caught himself, pivoted, and pushed off quickly to the left, grabbing the rock-salt gun from the ground, checked that the safety was still off and that the gun looked undamaged, and trained it on Rome's chest.

Elenna finished her chant and stood, yelling at Andre and looking lost, when nothing happened.

Alrighty. What to do when you didn't have time to get better info and the lore person looks inept... frack. This is not good.

Andre laughed. His momentary lapse of fear was unfounded and immediately gone when the Exorcism bounced harmlessly off him like a sword off a shield. The girl looked horrified now, stopping-mid spell, and the boy was growing enraged--a clear cover-up for fear. The Key of Solomon was a bit of a downer, but if he was left alone to concentrate, well, he certainly wouldn't be here forever.

"Once again, our heroes find themselves wholly unprepared for the stroke of good fortune that falls into their laps," Andre narrated haughtily. "I would hate to see what you children look like on a bad day. If it weren't for the booby-trap put here by your wretched mother," he sneered at Rawson, "who's dead in the next room, by the way, if you have half a mind to look, you both would be long cold by now, I guarantee."

He turned to the girl. "Your pronunciation of Latin is quite good. Though I've never really heard that exorcism properly, you know, over the screaming. But what are you going to do now that you're little bag of tricks is empty, hmm? By the way, I never caught your name. As a witch, they'll want to know who to be expecting whenever you get Downstairs." He grinned widely.

"At any rate, I suspect you'll want a head-start. I don't think it will take me more than an hour--" thirty minutes, tops, only he wasn't going to tell them that "to break out of here. Oh, yes, it can be done, my dear, if I have enough time." He jangled the bracelets unconsciously. "And I have all the time in the world. My advice is to get as far away from me as possible. I might be able to track you down," he looked at Rawson, "if there's anything at all useful I can scrape from the bottom of your brother's skull. And you," he smiled gently at the girl, "well, I'll be seeing you eventually, won't I?"

Rome shifted against the chains, hardly struggling anymore. Raws...go...take the girl and go.... Please, Rawson...just leave me, I won't blame you...

The smile was gone. A loud rumble was heard below them, and the ground shifted. Not enough to break the circle, or do much of anything, really, compared to the maelstrom he had been outputting five minutes ago, but the ground shifted decidedly. Black eyes fixed the young pair with a bone-chilling stare.

"I would run if I were you."