Chapter twenty-two


"Stop!"

The slates from the roof slipped traitorously under the half-breed's feet.

"We'll run you through, you filthy taint!"

Thundering footfalls pursued her trek across the top of the townhouse.

"You've nowhere to go. Stop your running!"

She couldn't stop. Not even to peer over her shoulder to see how close behind her pursuers were. She had to keep moving.

She was breaking inside, her mind edging towards a free fall into madness and only her stubborn will kept shock from stealing upon her. This thing in her arms, Andréa/not Andréa, had her body recoiling inside and and yet wanting to hold on tight.

And she could feel Dominion's influence; insane reverence and icy terror had begun to creep into Miranda's chest.

Miranda couldn't allow herself to think because floating among the debris of random thought was the knowledge that her daughters were in the house somewhere below her unsure footing, possibly fighting for their lives and she wanted to turn back and protect them even if she was torn between the hatred for them that had sprung up within her the moment the dagger had pierced Andréa's tender flesh and the love that had clung to her heart the moment they'd been conceived rendering her a little more humane than she had been since the day she'd been born.

And she felt controlled, compelled and pulled along with puppet strings by the sleeping anomaly in her arms. Broken in half, she was more vulnerable to the entity's sway, even as it slept.

Splintered as she was, leaving her more vulnerable to injury, Miranda's teeth clicked together hard at the sharp bite of pain in her right shoulder. A quick peripheral glance revealed the handle of the bone dagger sticking from her right shoulder blade; she felt its sharp tip grinding against bone.

"I said stop!"

The half-breed growled her fury, bared her sharp teeth.

Miranda whipped around, cautiously slinging Andréa's body over her shoulder.

"I don't think so." The snarl left her lips; her right foot kicked out of its own accord and slammed into the body of the chimney.

A large chunk of the brick structure broke free and smashed into one of the three demons in pursuit.

"Bitch!" one the demon pursuers bellowed. "I'm gonna enjoy this!" He swung a large double-bladed axe in a circular arc over his head. It released from his hand hurling with deadly accuracy towards Miranda's neck.

She ducked, backing up a step, closer to the edge than she realized. And was saved from the axe cleaving her head from shoulders when her feet lost purchase on the ledge. She dropped, touching ground upright but the landing was jarring inside. Lacking her usual grace without the celestial half of her blood, the shock of the fall rippled through her system; there was little time to assess damage internal or otherwise.

Without giving thought to direction, she took off—

Leading demons on a chase while heading west down East 63rd street.

Dark overflow crept over the city, too many demons inhabiting the world and in one place.

It tainted the air thick and sweet with the ripe and humid gray murk of sin.

The humans she swept by walked as though in dazes, feeling the pull of something they didn't understand and could never fully grasp. Miranda's eyes widened as a group of yuppies walked from a restaurant and like a pack of wolves and fell upon an unsuspecting couple heading into the establishment.

She found herself relishing the carnage, temptation to partake now that she what wholly unfettered was held in check by the threat behind her and the danger in her arms.

There was no way to tell where Dominion's influence ended and the taint of hellspawn began. Fighting erupted on the sidewalks. Angry drivers had jumped from their vehicles thumping chests and throwing fists and feet in sudden mass explosions of rage.

So quickly, it begins.

Car alarms rang sharp and clear in the distance. With sirens howling and lights flashing, emergency vehicles and police cars sped down the avenue and for now hardly seem to notice the inhuman beasts racing down upscale New York City, save a few pedestrians scattering out of her path and those the half-breed negligibly knocked aside.

Maneuvering through night traffic, past angry mobs Miranda sneered as a silver Porsche ran a red light and narrowly avoided careening into her. It just barely slammed on brakes, the bumper just shy of kissing her shins. She glared at the driver through the windshield, and slammed her fist down and through the hood.

His mouth hanging open, the angry bellow which had begun now rose by octaves into a squawk of terror.

On either side of the street there were insults hurled and threats and the laying on of horns in a tirade at the stop flow of traffic rhythm.

Looking over her shoulder, she spied her remaining pursuers; the driver of the Porsche followed her glance, gave a startled yell, threw his car in reverse and found it merely squealing tires, as the blue skinned giantess held it in place. He trained his eyes to Miranda again, who quirked a brow as though in warning. Pale, and eyes bulging he fumbled in a panic for the seat belt and dove from the car just as it left ground.

Miranda, with Andréa slumped over her shoulder twirled once like a discus thrower, releasing the silver Porsche. The Porsche whipped through the air, slamming into the head of one of her pursuers, and took it minus the body along as the vehicle crashed into the corner wall of a building.

The Half-breed's sneer of satisfaction was short-lived. Her eyes narrowed with confusion at the sharp jab of a sword running her through from back to abdomen.

She stumbled as the sword was twisted and then yanked free. Miranda clasped her right palm over the wound and groaned in agony at the hot searing pain in her gut. Turning slowly to glare with murderous contempt at her adversary, she stood her ground weakly.

"Bonjour, Miranda."

Miranda blinked. The voice was vaguely familiar but the demon owning it was not. Her legs buckled under the onslaught of pain and from the weight Andréa's body on her shoulder.

The demon shimmered before her, its appearance now human as the dual heads formed into one. Miranda found she was not as surprised as perhaps she should have been. She glanced over the now human form of the demon's shoulder, and dropped to her knees.

Andréa's body rolled from Miranda's shoulder and now lie face up on the street.

The half-breed glared with unabashed hatred at her adversary.

"Jacqueline?"

The French fashionista who'd once thought to displace Miranda from her human throne among the Fashion empire merely grinned with triumph. She raised her sword above her head to bring down upon Miranda's.

"It seems we have found at least one venue, my dearest Miranda, in which I am destined to topple you."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Miranda arched a brow skeptically and then grinned at the approach of oncoming headlights. Amusement twinkled in her eyes, bringing a puzzled frown to Jacqueline Follet's expression.

"Au revoire, Jackie." The half-breed whispered. "At least for now."

The half-breed flattened her body on the street beside Andréa's and covered their heads, with her hands as the New York city transit bus flew over them taking Jacqueline Follet with it.

Miranda weakly gathered to her feet, lifting Andréa over her shoulder again. She stumbled from the street—traffic resuming as though there had been no pause—and staggered into an alley where she scaled the side of a building, slowly making her way to the roof.

She'd drawn enough attention for the night and she did not doubt, she mused with pursed lips and the absence of amusement, someone would be writing up a quick article equipped with cell phone pictures about the giant 'blue smurf', terrorizing Manhattan drivers.

Lowering her precious cargo to the roof top, she reached over her shoulder with her left hand and clumsily fumbled for the handle of the bone dagger. With teeth gritted, she wrenched it free of her flesh. The half-breed fell back and lie on her back panting heavily, concentrating on shutting her mind off to the pain in her shoulder and gut.  

After several deep breaths Miranda sat up again. Sweat beading on her normally cool flesh, she tore strips from what remained of her tattered clothes to use as bandages for her wounds.

Once her wounds were tended, the half-breed stared at the slack features of her lover, her jaw quivering.

"I've been a business woman, Andréa, full of bravado and threats of ruin." Miranda clenched her teeth feeling half crazed for Andréa's presence and so far out of her depth without the young woman's antagonistic attitude spurring her on. "I've mired myself in human ways and until you spared little or no time for being what I am," she whispered to her sleeper. "Which is apparently a less than efficient Celestial and a rather poor excuse for a demon."

Miranda snorted recalling the feats she'd pulled off in the Valley.

"It was because of you." She brushed her index finger across Andréa's lips and feeling no breath from those lips, her heart nearly caved. Miranda shuddered and snatched her hand back. "All those things I was able to do in that Valley, I did because of you. For you even before I realized who you were." She closed her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Andréa. And without you, there's no reason to." She slumped over onto her side. The half-breed raised a tentative hand it hovered indecisively in the air and then came to rest on Andréa's still belly. "So, I am going to pretend that you are still just sleeping." She stared at the dagger protruding from Andréa's chest and then looked away. "And that I am just waiting for you to wake up."

Miranda heaved an exhausted sigh, missing her longevity as she again sat up. They couldn't hide out on the roof, not for long.

She crawled over to and peered over the ledge and then quickly ducked her head back out of sight. Her expression was speculative as she turned back to Andréa's prone form. She tilted her head to the side and tried to imagine what the demons below were thinking as they scoured the streets below for her.

She smiled.

They were looking for Miranda Priestly, in human or in her half-breed form. But still they were looking for Miranda Priestly.

Miranda thought of Andréa. Her Andréa.

Perhaps I should endeavor to think like you?

Miranda's brow furrowed at that thought. Andréa's thinking process seemed to run more along the line of the chaotic, intuitive, randomly snatching ideas from the air.

Where would you hide? No where I would obviously.

A smile curved her lips.

"Good idea, darling." Miranda kissed the sleeper's forehead. "You are not completely without your uses."

Andréa's forehead was cool beneath her lips. Miranda's smile faded.

"You have to come back to me, Andréa. I need you."

She tucked her arms under Andréa's shoulders and knees and lifted her from the surface of the rooftop.

Miranda staggered forward, grunting in pain. She grimaced, gaining her foot steadily. Straightening, she shook her head as though the gesture itself would throw off the agony in her gut. She squared her shoulders, nodded and did what had to be done.

She kept moving.

Nate froze in place under the watchful eyes of clear ocean green. The gaze burned with malice and cruelty so naked, that Nate felt the tremble even in his teeth.

"Lochases." The name was snarled from the mouths of both twins.

The bedroom door now blocked by several demons, Lochases circled his three captives.

Lochases was little more than six feet, yet it seemed he towered over them, circling meat like a hungry dog.

Looking upon him was almost like physical pain. Nate's eyes stung as though he'd opened them too soon to an unmerciful morning glare. But he kept looking, because he couldn't bare to look elsewhere, did not dare to look elsewhere.

His hair shone like sun spun gold; long locks feathered like angel wings framed an ageless and androgynous face, too beautiful and frightening to belong to any creature born of earth.

The twins stood in front of Nate, small, diminished, their backs ramrod straight their stance fierce and protective.

Harsh words were bandied about but Nate could make no sense of them, his ears feeling as though they'd been stuffed with wool. The conversation going on around him seemed to be taking place somewhere far away. Ancient words spoken in harsh whispers from down a long tunnel.

Somewhere inside Nate's head hysterical laughter echoed.

These two little girls trying to protect him. These two little girls who'd just moments ago when looking like angels had driven a dagger through Andy's heart.

And this thing, he stared at the intruder who shone like morning glory, was the thing Andy had been running from. Nate just knew it in his gut.

This thing was responsible for hurting Andy. This thing was why Andy had changed. This thing was why his friends were...

Pain lanced up his arms from his fists being clenched too tight.

Suddenly his brain ached as something foreign seemed to burrow its way into the soft membrane. Nate clutched at his head, pressing the heels of his palms to his temples as though squeezing them would force the intruder out.

"With all the eternal wonders of the universe, your lifespan is the equivalent of the fly." The thing spoke to him, "A thousand years will pass in a day, and long before that day has dwindled you will be no more." His voice was hollow and like dried bones rattling in tin cans. "Can a fly ever hope to defy the gale force of a hurricane?" It spoke to Nate.

Nate who could only blink and stare while trying desperately not to look at the fallen bodies of his friends, and trying not to think about Doug's head which he could feel brushing against the side of his shoe.

"You are the mongrel begging scraps from the tables of the homeless. That you could ever believe a marvel such as she ever did or ever could belong to you, is too sad to be truly laughable."

Nate sucked in harsh ragged breath. "You stay the hell away from Andy!" Nate growled. "You don't fucking touch her!"

"I have and I will again, but that 'you' even dared to soil her with you mortal hands of clay, brands you for death."

It reached for him over the heads of the twins.

"Loki!" A young voice snapped. "Don't be stupid. She remembers. Or soon will."

"She loves him." Another voice, almost a mirror of the first, small and girlish pulled at Nate's attention. "You won't get what you want if you kill him."

"Loves him!?" It scoffed. Lochases drew back from Nate and grabbed one of the girl's by her shirt collar. She neither struggled nor looked afraid. "You lie."

"No." The other one spoke hurriedly. "With the Dagger of Whoa embedded in the heart of Dominion, you know what has happened. And you know what it means."

"The dagger..." He stared with shock from one girl two the other.

"The soul is vulnerable. But she'll remember. She'll remember she loves him. That's why Mo...Miranda attempted to make the claim first. She hasn't. She failed. It's why we had to act quickly. Dominion is only beginning to awaken. And without Andy she'll awaken weak in her fleshly vessel." Cassidy spat out. "And our job was to destroy her."

"And why should I believe you?" Lochases narrowed his eyes. Nate burned with pure rage. "Two heralds," Lochases scoffed "sent to destroy that which cannot be destroyed. Impossible."

"Who better?" The other twin lifted her chin defiantly. "And though Dominion is eternal, the vessel she inhabits is not. Not yet. Without the vessel she'd simply be adrift again waiting for the time when another vessel was chosen."

"I don't believe you." Lochases sneered but his voice wavered, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he eyed the undaunted expressions of the twins. "You've been helping her."

"Only to gain our mother's freedom. That was the deal." The one twin hissed. "We get our mother back safely from the Valley and in exchange we destroy Dominion's current vessel."

"You won't succeed." He laughed. "You're weak now, practically useless as you are. You've already failed."

"Id imperfectum manet dum confectum erit," the twin he held spat out. - It ain't over until it's over

"I should kill you both now." Lochases threatened.

The other twin rolled her eyes as though bored. "We know you won't. You can't."

He let go of the one he held and snarled.

"Fine—then you'll simply come with me."

"You can't take a living human to your hell or have you forgotten that, you jackass."

Nate watched as Lochases's expression darkened; for a moment he thought the twins would be  struck down, but the demon with an angel's face merely grinned.

"Perhaps," Lochases chuckled, "children are not without their uses after all."

Nate blinked, feeling a sudden overwhelming urge to vomit come over him, without reason. And then the world spun and seemed to tilt on its axis. Wind rushed at him, past him and he wondered if the pressure would split his skull. And then it all ceased.

He opened his eyes.

The world around him was a barren landscape. No moon. No stars. The sky an expanse of washed out pastels and the dirt beneath him was black as silt.

 

 

Miranda stared through slitted eyes at a now dark, sullen world.

She stumbled along the flat planes, her sandal-shod feet thrusting forward with determination against the gale force striving to push her back.

For all she knew she may well have been walking in circles.

The landscape was abysmal, colorless and shapeless; the wind whipped with biting fierceness against the protection of the wings enfolding her. She had begun to squint from the sharp scrape of air at the corners of her eyes.

"The world withers slowly from the inside out with a disease it can neither detect nor wants to recognize and you, you still fumble along like a drunkard in the dark."

The wind ceased with a suddenness.

"And as amusing it is to watch you chase your tail like a dog, we hardly have the time."

Miranda's heart which had begun to pound and race at the first sound of that recognizable voice, caved under the sting of disparaging words. This was not her Andréa.

"You again?"

"You think you know her so well and yet you know her so little."

"You know where she is." Miranda turned an accusing glare to her unwelcome companion, swallowing the ache at seeing again such familiar features with eyes that regarded her as an unworthy parasite. "Why won't you just tell me?"

"You've lived far too cut off from this side of yourself," the bridge arched a brow at the folded wings, "Celestial." The bridge grinned with mockery and waved both hands in a sweeping gesture at their surroundings. "This is her. Her world. Her prison. Her... divine justice. You have only to breathe to feel the beat of her heart. Whereas Dominion is raw strength unconquerable brute force, Andy is all power and wisdom," the bridge tilted her head, pursed her lips in an expression of disdain that rivaled Miranda's own, "though what she sees in you, blind one, I will never know."

"Perhaps," the celestial fixed an icy glare at the bridge, "She does not see me at all."

"She sees you." The bridge tsked at her. "It's why she chose you. Before you were born. She chose you—even if she does not know it now. She sees you or you would not be here."

"Why did you come back?"

"Because you are so pathetic that you can never hope to find her on your own." The bridge frowned. "She is too lost. Self-pity and self-loathing are the sharpened blades clouding all reason and she is as short sighted in her wallow of guilt as Dominion is in her thirst for freedom and destruction." The bridge sneered. "And you, unfortunately are our only hope. If Andy will not free herself than it is for you to do."

"If you know she can free herself," Miranda frowned, "then why don't you tell her?"

"Because, I am neither her conscience nor her voice of reason." She tilted her head. "I have no voice at all."

"Funny," the Celestial pursed her lips, "since I've yet to hear anything else but your voice uselessly yammering."

The bridge laughed. "Maybe it is not my voice you hear at all, but hers speaking through me." She offered Miranda a sly grin. "Maybe... they both speak through me."

Miranda recoiled physically at the cold smirk. Her chest suddenly icing with trepidation.

"And I should trust you?"

"Without the two halves to make the whole I've no purpose." The bridge shrugged. "You can debate and you can hesitate. But every moment that passes brings Lochases closer to her and brings you and your 'angelic' spawn closer to the end. You are not safe. And above all else your safety is what she wishes. You have only to give her what she seeks."

"And that is...?"

"Redemption. Come along, Celestial." The bridge waved her hand. "You'll need this."

"If this is her world then why would I need this?" Miranda was startled at the abrupt sensation of her sword again in her hand.

"Because even the wise can be foolish. And there can exist no prison without its guards." The bridge smirked. "I hope you know how to use that. Because if you die here, it really won't matter at all if you die out there." She glanced at Miranda gravely. "The world will not survive the darkness that follows." Her eyes narrowed. "It never does."

Miranda sucked in sharp breath, pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and then tightened her grip on the sword. "Very well."

 

 

"Move." a harsh voice ordered from behind him.

Nate was paralyzed.

This isn't... People don't just closes their eyes and then...

He grunted in pain when a backhand across the face sent him sprawling to his back on dirt. The taste of blood filled he mouth, he spat it out on the ground.

The twins reached for him and Nate drew back from them spitefully, ignoring the sharp looks from flinty twin green eyes.

"I don't need your help!" he snapped.

He was jerked to his feet, practically choking as the grip on the back his shirt tightened the collar around his neck. He couldn't breathed. The material of the shirt dug into his throat.

Nate's vision began to swim, the world turning a sickly green hue. And he wondered if maybe that was a good thing because he didn't want to see the end of this nightmare.

He couldn't believe or even imagine the end of this dream would be good or that it would be happy. His happy ending had been murdered in that townhouse.

"He is worthless to me dead, you imbecile." Lochases hissed. "You can have your fun with him later but we need to move before the hunting hounds are alerted."

Nate was abruptly released; he nearly tumbled to the ground again but the demon held him up by the scruff of his shirt until Nate jerked free, tearing the material in the process.

The demons look around nervously and then shoved Nate forward with force, prodding him on alternating between painful pokes to the back and sharp slaps to the back of his head that left his ears ringing.

They marched for what felt like an eternity; Nate could feel the twins watching him warily, as his own glare burned holes into the back of Lochases's head.

"Don't do anything stupid," One the twins snapped.

"Don't talk to me!" He snarled at her. "You killed my Andy."

"Andy's not yours." The other one whispered with vehemence. Her eyes flash with a possessive fury that made Nate flinched. "She's ours. She's our mother's."

"You said..." she loved me. He didn't complete that thought out loud. Because there was something in her words. She had not spoken in past tense. "Then why are you protecting me?"

He stared at the girl; she lifted her chin stubbornly, her eyes telegraphing disdain, "Because we're angels." And then she moved to her sister's side. And Angels commit murder and tell lies? he thought at her viciously for making him hope.

The other looked at him as though she'd read his mind. "We do what we have to." And then her expression fractured and she looked like a lost little girl.

"Cass," the other whispered.

They held hands, neither speaking again but Nate had an odd feeling they were still communicating.

The streets were deserted and for all intents and purposes the town they'd entered or village looked like nothing more than an ancient ghost town from a tourist brochure.

"This shouldn't be here." One of the twins whispered to the other. Lochases looked over his shoulders at the girls and grinned with smugness.

"Welcome to your new home."

They were shoved into a large house and again surrounded. Lochases stood before them, eying them with speculation. The girls were shoved forward.

"I cannot kill you." His smile was almost benevolent. "But I can cause you endless pain."

"Leave them alone, you twisted bastard!" Nate jumped forward standing between Lochases and the girls. "They're just kids."

Burning eyes turned onto him transforming his blood into ice and his legs to jello.

"Alive and intact are two different things, sweet little chef." Lochases approached him. Nate backed into the solid wall of the demon standing behind him. "Would you like me to show you the difference?"

Nate shook his head avidly, mouth drying up like a desert as he looked from Lochases to the other demons who were now eying him like he was the last piece of candy in the bowl.

"You'll live." Lochases chuckled, "but you'll wish otherwise."

He grinned and then transformed before Nate's eyes into something monstrous and hideous.

Nate paled and inhaled on a choked gasp of fear.

"How funny it is that you fear more this monstrous mask, when she was wise enough to fear my true face." In a blink he'd changed back, his face again like that of an angel's. He leaned in close to Nate who tried to avert his nose from the sweet intoxicating odor Lochases exhaled with each breath. "You wish to know what we did with and to your precious Andy?" His voice lowered, the tone seductive. "You'll soon be experiencing those little pleasures for yourself."

Nate was swarmed.

He fought wildly, shouting empty threats and wrestled to free his arms but he was held fast. He kicked and bellowed with useless fury as his clothes were torn from him and shredded like paper.

He fought still as he was dragged down the hall, screaming.

"I wouldn't struggle too much if I were you." Lochases laughed. "Someone might slip."

No! No! No! Terror short-circuited his brain and the world went mercifully to black.

Cassidy and Caroline stared at the door through which Nate had been taken.

"Who helped you?" Lochases demanded from behind them.

They swung around and stared at Lochases and then back to the door.

"He's not dying." Lochases laughed.

The twins twitched visibly.

"Now... who has been helping you?" He narrowed his eyes. "Tell me," he leered at the twins provoking grimaces of disgust from each girl, "or what I have in store for your friend will be nothing compared to..." He left the threat open for interpretation.

"There are laws." Cassidy spat at out. " That even you would not dare to break." 

Lochases glared at her with contempt, frustrated at the the truth of her words. He could over power them in their child-like human forms but he could do no real harm.

They were still under divine protection.

He could practically smell the sickeningly sweet stench of purity pouring off...

Lochases froze a moment, but there was no change in his facial expression.

"From whom have you been taking orders?" He nodded when they refused to answer. His gaze went to the door, Nate had been dragged behind. He arch a brow inquisitively turning his attention back to the girls. "Not even to spare your friend?"

"He will live." Caroline reminded. "And you can't touch his soul."

"Have it your way." His expression twisted into a knowing grin. "Soon enough it won't matter. And there will be no laws or rules to stop me from doing to you what I wish." He chuckled. "Perhaps I'll even let your mother watch, if she survives."

He stared at the demons remaining in the room and stalked toward the door.

"Keep them alive."

"Where are you going?" Caroline questioned, her gaze wary and speculative.

"For angels you are very convincing liars." Lochases grinned. "But like most amateur players sitting down at game of pokers, you both have a tell."

Caroline's eyes widened, she paled, clenching Cassidy's hand in a tight grip. Lochases turned and reached for the door.

"Where are you going?" Cassidy's voice rose, the tone laced with panic.

 

Lochases did not look back. He did not have to for them to know the was wearing that disgustingly triumphant grin. He opened the door and gloated over his shoulder ....

"I'm going to get my soul."

The door slammed shut behind him.

Neither twin had to feign upset. They only had to think of the door through which Andy's old boyfriend had been taken. But their mirrored expressions of distress covered the conversation the other demons were not privy too.

'Oh Caroline...' Caroline could almost hear Cassidy's nervous swallow in her mind. 'What if it was too soon? Maybe we did it wrong? Maybe she changed...'

'No!' Caroline thought back. 'You were right. It had to be done. The rest is up to Andy and Mom.'

'Do you think they're ready?'

'I don't know, Cass.' Caroline stared at the door, her own confidence wavering. Andy was probably somewhere experiencing memory overload. And it was up to the part of their mother they knew very little about to snap her out of it. Neither Cassidy nor Caroline were strong enough to protect Andy's ex-boyfriend. Dominion would be waking up and their mother demon's half was somewhere out there alone with it.

Caroline blinked. There were screams now, coming from the room Nate was in. 'If they're not...'

Both girls slumped back against the wall and slid to the floor holding each other and flinching with each cry and moan of human suffering they could do nothing to prevent.

'...We're gonna be so screwed.'

 

She'd left her pursuers behind at some point on the upper east side, where they carried on their rabid search, as though she was too invested in snobbery to ever dare take refuge in a part of the city that could not be considered upscale.

She glanced down at the face of her precious bundle.

Andréa, I'm beginning to wonder if having you in my life my means the abandonment of prestige and luxury.

Waiting for less traffic, she ducked into a New York City Subway an abandoned 42nd Street Lower-Level Station in Manhattan, New York City.

The stench of unwashed flesh pickled from years of alcohol abuse was an assault on the senses.

Miranda, ignoring the drunken stares of the indigent, rolled her eyes at the shocked and frightened expressions as she growled the wary and the insane from her path.

The half-breed trudged onward deeper into the bowels of the station, leaping from the platform to walk between the rails of long forgotten tracks.

Finding a spacious shaft, she cleared a littered area of floor with her feet and then gently lowered her burden to the ground. Miranda dropped heavily to her knees as though any moment her head would bow in prayer.

It did bow under the weight of her pain and her sins and miscalculations.

Her hands rested as though in benediction, folded atop Andréa's belly.

She tallied up the losses, replaying the image of Caroline plunging the dagger into Andréa's heart, Nigel lying lifeless on the floor of her bedroom, and found none of her actions in the past worth the price.

"Nigel," Miranda spoke the name roughly, a mournful quaver in her voice.

Feeling more and more of her precious control slipping, Miranda dropped her head to rest atop the back of her hands. Her shoulders barely shaking tears spilling from her eyes on to the stomach beneath her head and hands.

She remained there adrift in her remorse, the days passing her by without notice.

Andréa was lost to her and Miranda was left to stand guard over the hollowed vessel of a monster she hated. And yet she revered that monster with all the passion and fervor of the love she felt for the human spirit which had been driven from the body whose warmth she now craved.

She replayed every moment from the first she'd laid eyes upon Andréa Sachs, every moment which had led to her present situation. If I had given love freely then... if I had not been afraid... If I had fulfilled my duty...

"Have I done this?" She looked at Andréa's face, her own expression uncharacteristically tender and defeated. She whispered, "Andréa have I done this?"

 

Nate woke with a yell and found himself bound tight once again.

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the odd tilted sight of a rough wood ceiling.

The skin on his head, neck, chin and cheeks and the flesh of his groin felt raw and chafed; his ass and inner thighs felt bruised where he'd been spread and exposed for—

He cringed, recognizing the absence of the shaggy weight at his neck and the coolness of his scalp. He'd been shaved.

All over.

"Bastards!"

He struggled.

His arms were suspended, chained to two poles on either side of him and his ankles like-wise shackled spread eagle as though he waited an exam in gynecological office. He was on and odd sort of I shaped pedestal, a long length of flat metal supported his spine and flat metal wrapped around his waist at the small of his back, supporting him and rendering him immobile; a similar and smaller piece supported the back of his head and wrapped around it holding his head practically immobile as well.

The horror of his situation, and what it meant that he'd been trussed up and exposed in such a manner, settled upon with crushing clarity. "No!" His heart accelerated, his breathing became labored and Nate renewed his struggle. "No!"

A harsh bark of laughter errupted.

"Now there's a fine plucked bird meant for the stuffing, eh boys?"

Nate froze.

"Don't fucking touch me, goddamn it!"

"What was that?" someone questioned.

"A mourning dove whistling for a mate, perhaps?"

"I'll fucking kill you?" Nate spat out.

"From boredom most likely," a bored female voice attested. "They say the live ones are no fun, less endurance. Lochases says we must be gentle with you."

"Stay away from me." Nate could feel the flesh wanting to crawl from his bones.

"In hell, they endure and endure and endure." The voice drew closer and Nate cringed as the female came into sight, her twisted flesh was barbed with spikes, her teeth were sharp upper and lower rows of tusks. "I've never ridden a live one," she stared at his flesh greedily. She clicked her teeth, saliva dripped from between them like thick mucous. "I want to go first."

"Just don't break him..." another voice warned.

She leaned down and sniffed upward along his inner thighs. "Fragile bones and flesh, won't quite mend if I make a mess of you, eh?" Nate struggled against his restraints, bruising his wrists as he yanked hard on the bindings.

"No!"

She clamored atop him straddle his waist. The spikes on her thighs pierced his flesh and he wailed. The mucous-like substance dripping from her grin onto his chest burned like acid.

"Don't worry," She chuckled. "I give good squeeze."

He whimpered and shut his eyes.

 

Miranda stared for possibly the hundredth time at the arresting face of her lover.

Her thoughts drifting to her children, hoping in spite of her anger at them that they were safe.

She was torn between going back to look for them and remaining at Andréa's side.

I don't know what to do.

She closed her eyes.

She knew as well as her girls that Andréa's body could not be left vulnerable for Lochases to find.

Fitting punishment isn't, it love?

"I miss you," she leaned down, her lips hovering above Andréa's "I want you back. Andréa," Miranda murmured beseechingly. "Please come back." She prayed.

Closing her eyes, desperate, the half-breed made what she knew might very likely be her last decision. She prepared herself as best she could for the agony to come.

Andréa's lips were close enough to kiss. Miranda reached out her right hand for the dagger.

"Sorry baby..." The husky whisper startled Miranda's eyes open.

An iron grip clamped around her throat another around her right hand practically crushing it as it held her away from the dagger.

The eyes opened.

Miranda gasped. Her heart breaking, Andréa's face. Andréa's voice. But it was not Andréa looking out at her through the cold eyes bled through with black. Darkness began to creep into the edges of Miranda's vision before she realized her throat was being crushed.

"...But I just don't think you and I are going to work out."

 

 

Nate stumbled as he was thrust into the room, bruised and hurting. He rolled across the floor and pressed his body against the wall, flinching when the door slammed closed.

He whimpered when he heard the shuffle of bodies moving near him.

"It's okay. It's us." One the girl's spoke. "Caroline and Cassidy."

"Are you okay?" the other asked.

Bitter laughter erupted from his raw throat.

"No. No I'm not."

Tears hot and fat burned his red and swollen eyes and stung the flesh of his raw cheeks. He was grateful of the darkness.

A pair of small warm hands lifted his head and another his feet. They were lowered again his head on the lap of one twin, his feet on the lap of the other. A small gentle hand caressed the head which had been raped of its hair, the other brushed against his cheeks.

"She cried too." One of the twins whispered somberly. "Andy."

"We thought it was all her fault.. blamed her for everything but..."

Where the voice of one twin stop the other took over.

"...We still helped her when we could, though she never remembered. We kept her mind from breaking." The voice was quiet. "We'd hold her just like this... sometimes we sang to her. Sometimes we told her stories..."

"Just so you could kill her." he accused. "Why did you even bother?"

The girls stiffened but they kept up their gentle touches, his face and cheek, his feet. And Nate lacked the strength to pull away.

"You can never dream to hold that which cannot be contained, lest she herself wills it."

Nate closed his eyes.

"They changed her," he whispered bitterly. "Is that why she's like she is? that weird mind thing... Because of what he did to her."

"No one changes her. She changes herself."

"We should tell you a story."

 

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