Nightlife

Chapter Twenty

Sleep was something I'd always been fond of, in either halves of my whole. I loved the darkness, silent and still, wrapped around me with inexorable arms. There was a difference, though. Humans dreamed; I did not. I didn't need to. Life was all the wish fulfillment I needed, and as for subconscious fears… I didn't have any. I was the fear that ran rampant in dreams throughout history. There was no vice versa. No dreams, no nightmares.

And I refused to start now.

Memories, that's all they were. Just a swirl of memories… once mine, once his… now ours. There was a troll, huge and gloating, Auphe everywhere, and a trailer flaming to the sky. A bitter woman spit words as painful as any stab wound, and there was year after year of running. It should have been boring stuff to one as jaded as me, but it wasn't. There was terror, fury, despair, and a long-simmering anger, but boredom wasn't any part of the equation. Of course by our now-singular nature some of the memories were mine as well. The happier ones. Deshelling a smelly knight without damaging his armor. That had been tricky and, in the end, damn messy. But it'd still been fun as hell. Sinking a canoe of natives into piranha-infested waters. The fish at least had been grateful for that one. It was one of the good things about my vocation in life; it led to my avocation walking directly into my greedy hands. They all came looking for the treasure I was possessing at the time. It was like pizza delivery, only better because it was free.

Yeah, good memories.

The trouble was that now my memories were all mixed up with those others. I was the one wearing the armor as a thousand troll tentacles slithered into every crack and began to pull flesh from my bones. The Auphe were lifting me high and tossing me into turgid, muddy water to be devoured by shredding teeth. A deadly beautiful woman sang curses at me as she methodically ripped off my arms and legs, then ears, and finally my tongue.

But they weren't dreams and they certainly weren't nightmares. No. Mixed-up memories, that's all. Nothing but mental debris. It was all I would allow them to be.

Consequently, when I woke up covered in sweat with my heart racing, I was annoyed… extremely annoyed. My mood didn't improve when I saw one of the Auphe was back, crouching over me. He was balanced on a stack of boxes and gazing at me with an assessing glint in his eyes. It was the same look I hadn't been happy with the night before. "What are you looking at?" I snapped as I sat up and stretched stiff muscles. I was cranky and cold and in no mood to "boss" and bow and scrape. Not now. Not today.

"Don't test your luck, little lizard." Quiet words that nonetheless had a presence all their own. "You have a task to do. Stay in control and do it." He flipped and disappeared between the crates and the wall as fast as a silverfish into a crack. There were no more threats or attempts at intimidation. The Auphe had to have guessed what I'd been up to. Once the gate was opened, they would have other things on their minds and they just might forget how I'd displeased them. And I was all too aware of what the Auphe were capable of when displeased. I didn't need a picture painted for me. Not that the insinuation that I wasn't in the driver's seat didn't piss me off. Because it did; it pissed me off quite a bit. I was in total control. Total. We were one and I was in control.

Damn straight.

Standing, I rubbed a hand over my face and absently checked my watch. I'd slept the night through, past the morning, and well into late afternoon. It wasn't that long a sleep, not for me. There were times I'd slept months if left to my own devices. Years even. Not today, though, not on the last day. Time… a fluid word. Soon there would be all the time in the world and yet none at all. Soon it would be time to open the gate. Now? Now it was time for school.

The gate had a power that couldn't be denied. It was a black-winged harbinger, a shivering omen of things to come. But when I actually opened one myself, all that melodramatic mumbo jumbo faded next to the reality of it. It wasn't opening a doorway. It wasn't gathering every iota of inner force and ripping the fabric of space and time itself. It wasn't an act of will overcoming the physical universe. It wasn't any of those, yet it was all of them. But more than that, it was an orgasm. Light and darkness. Up and down. Life and death. Oh, and one other thing…

It kicked ass.

Just practice for the show of shows, but still a blast. Still, class was class and the Auphe were somewhat harsher with lessons than your average ruler-wielding nun. They'd never been long on the social niceties.

Going to school under them only proved that point. Luckily, most of the lesson was only review. They had taught Cal enough about opening gates in the two years that they'd had him, and he'd been an apt pupil. Torture is nothing if not a strong incentive. The half-breed had learned all right and learned well. After all, it was how he had escaped from Tumulus—that and killing an Auphe with his bare hands. I had to give him credit. Insert applause here for the little shit. He'd never known, though; he'd never been able to retrieve the memories of what he'd done and what had been done to him. He'd never been able to open a gate again. The memory was too buried and bound up in chains of utter denial. But though it was beyond Caliban from then on, it was not beyond me.

"Concentrate. Hold it." A sharp talon to my biceps punctuated the words in a way Miss Manners would have strongly disapproved of, but it did bring my attention back to the lesson at hand. "Ahhhh, beauuutiful. Now let it go."

Opening a gate had been difficult, even with the past and present coaching and the genetic tendencies. Wrapping my mind around the twisty cogitation necessary for walking that path was rigorous. And if opening it was a bitch, closing it was that much worse. It was almost impossibly hard to let it die. In the midst of the metaphysical whirlpool, past the physical pangs, there was an exhilaration that was addictive. Plum, gold, and burgundy lights danced behind my eyes as electricity raced through every cell. Sucking in a breath laced with ice and fire, I held on to the gate for another intoxicating second before finally releasing it.

The quivering oval of light shrank to a pinpoint, and then popped out of sight. Dropping hands that tingled with residual energy, I blew on my fingernails and raised my eyebrows at the Auphe at my elbow. "Good enough for government work?"

He didn't answer, but instead turned to a blood clot of several of his brothers nearby. All of them practically vibrated with excitement. Joining together, they laughed as joyfully as hellish children and swirled round and round each other like sharks in a feeding pattern. Their time had come again and they knew it.

I left them to it. Retreating to a far corner of the building, I did my best to suppress appetite pangs. I was starving. If there'd been time, I would have run out for a burger or Chinese, but there wasn't. The clock was ticking. Ignoring the grumblings of my stomach, I wiped the sweat from my face with my sleeve and pushed my hair behind my ears. Thanks to Niko and Robin, I didn't have a change of clothing or the chance to take a hot shower. They'd rushed me, messed up my time schedule, and left me rather cranky. I wasn't the clotheshorse Goodfellow was. For that matter, neither was Beau Brummell, and I'd seen that dude in diamond-encrusted tights. The puck had no equal in the fashion department, but that didn't mean I didn't like the finer things in life. All the world's a stage, they say, and here I was doing my solo in a pair of grass-stained jeans topped off with a ripped navy blue silk sweater. It wasn't what I'd planned and not the showmanship I liked to think I was known for.

I inserted a finger into a tear at the shoulder seam and sighed. All those years of safeguarding treasures had turned me into something of a magpie, and I coveted the bright and the beautiful. Jewels, fabrics… souls. I had a bit of the collector in me and I'd never even realized it until now. Pulling the shirt off, I discarded it on the ground as my bare skin prickled in the cool air.

"I brought the equipment." Samuel's voice came from behind me. It rang dully with hostility and I smiled to myself. It seemed I wasn't the only cranky one here tonight. Misery does love company.

"You're a good puppy, Sammy. Keep this up and you'll get a nice treat." I turned and gave him a sunny grin. I'd heard him come in, heard his breathing, heard every measured tread. There hadn't actually been any doubt in my mind that he would do as I said, but I still had to admit it was gratifying. Made for a smoother schedule, and I'd had enough aggravation lately. "You bring Genghis with you?" I brushed disparagingly at my jeans. "I could use a pair of leather pants." Another hunger pang prompted a wistful addition. "And a snack." Genghis wasn't a cheeseburger, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Where do you want it?" he asked, disregarding my comment. He was all business, grim and humorless as a Baptist in a whorehouse.

Hours had passed while I was relearning the ins and outs of gates. It was coming down to the wire. "In front of the far wall, about twenty feet back." I tossed a casual hand toward the one wall not covered with boxes and crates. "Keep them to the side and leave a path. And jack the amps all the way up, Sam-I-am. I'm going to make some serious noise."

Nodding curtly, he spun on his heel and moved off. I called genially after him, "Need any help, buddy? It'll be just like old times. You won't even have to pay me this time."

"No, thanks." He brushed me off without turning. "I didn't bring my long spoon."

Literate bastard, I thought with amused tolerance as I watched him go. I could have told him there was no devil. The rest of us wouldn't have stood for the competition. I let him alone while he set up the speakers; they were an impressive set for a rinky-dink bar band. Samuel had to bring them in on a dolly and it was still a struggle—they were that massive. It was good luck for me. I had Caliban's breeding, I had the supernatural battery beneath the floor, and I had the Auphe's guidance. But more than that, I had myself. I had talents of my own and that would be the deciding factor. Millions of years was a huge chasm to bridge. It wouldn't hurt to get a boost. And if the humans' own technology led to their downfall, hell, that was just a bonus. Any ambivalence I had about losing this world's luxury disappeared under the sheer ego boost of what I was about to do… what only I could achieve. In the entire realm of existence only I could make this happen. Only I held the power.

"Where do you want the microphone stand?" came another question, detached and toneless. Samuel was becoming less and less entertaining as the seconds passed. His face set and remote, his eyes stony, he looked just past me as he waited for my answer.

I took a step sideways, planting myself firmly in his line of sight. I wasn't going to let him hide from what was happening. What ticked me off, though, what gnawed at me with sharp rat teeth, was that I didn't know if it was the Darkling part of me or the portion that had once been Caliban.

I thought the Auphe were damn cunning in regard to Samuel. They had finally located Cal and his brother, had shadowed them from a safe distance for nearly a month, and hadn't been found out. They had known about the friendship with Georgina. They'd known about her dying father. They'd even discovered an in with her devoted uncle Samuel, and they'd used it ruthlessly. He could do what the Auphe couldn't and watch the brothers from a front-row seat, keep tabs on them during the time his masters searched for a suitable location for the gate. He could get up close and personal with the brothers in a way that wasn't possible for the Auphe. He was the one that sniffed out that they were going to run, too. Good nose on him… for a human. You had to hand it to the bosses; they had tied everything in a neat and inescapable knot. Admirable.

Of course Cal would've had a slightly different opinion. His would've been more in the realm of betrayal and rage, with a generous helping of homicidal fury. I wanted to kill our good buddy Samuel—don't get me wrong. But whereas I wanted to kill him for fun, Cal would've wanted to do it out of a sense of vengeance. He would've wanted payback. He would've wanted justice.

I didn't give a shit about what he would've wanted. Caliban was gone. There was only me and when I tormented Samuel it was for kicks only. That was the end of that particular story. "No stand," I answered. "I saw your singer use a headset. That's what I want." I'd need my hands free to open the gate. Clamping on to his arm with a tight grip, I stopped him as he started to move away. "Another thing, Samuel. Since you've been such a good guy, been such a pal." I bared my teeth in a travesty of a grin that predated my human form. "I'd like you to stick around and see the show. Admission is free." More or less.

He didn't avoid my gaze this time, but simply met it with eyes as empty as what was left of his soul. "All right." He knew what was coming, knew it and wasn't going to avoid it. The curse of a conscience wasn't a problem I was familiar with, but I had heard rumors. "I'll be back with the headset." I released him and he made his way through the gathering Auphe. Frowning, I watched him go. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that I wasn't going to have the opportunity to kill Samuel. He was making it entirely too easy; it took all the fun out of it. Either way, it didn't matter. Once the Auphe went through the gate there wouldn't be a Samuel to kill. There wouldn't be a Georgina either, and if Samuel had known that, I don't think he would've have been quite so resigned.

"It is time."

The whisper of the Auphe was repeated a hundred times over, rising in an atonal concerto that swelled high to the rafters. The words then melted into an inarticulate, needful moan that twisted the air in the same way a knife twisted guts into shredded flesh and spilled bile. It was the sound of a multitude of monsters calling for home. They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched me with the intensity of an exploding sun. Hundreds of bloody eyes were locked unswervingly in my direction. I could feel the heat of it on my face. Their icy, fetid breath panted in short, excited bursts as long fingers clenched and unclenched into spidery knots. Mouths gaped, lips skimming over adamantine teeth, as they mewled uncontrollably. They were the right hand of death itself, pale and pitiless.

Anyone with less intestinal fortitude, inhuman or not, would've been curled up on the floor sucking his thumb. I basked in the attention and took it as my due. I'd always known I was a star. Without me, the Auphe were nothing. I was the key, and the gate was a lock only I could open. At this moment I was, as I'd always suspected, God. Spreading my arms, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, my streaming hair a silk touch on my shoulder blades. "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Opening my eyes, I smiled gently at the Auphe.

A shaken breath broke beside me. "Jesus. Sweet Jesus."

I tilted my head toward Samuel. "Oh, my sights are set higher than that." His face was as gray as that of a dying man and a cold sweat sheened on his skin. He ripped his eyes from the milling Auphe to me.

"What are they going to do?" Samuel's voice was hushed and strained to the breaking point, but his apathy had disappeared. It would be hard for even the most suicidal man to be complacent at the sight before him now.

I took the headset from his frozen hand. "I think it's a little late to be worrying about that now." I slipped on the headset, my eyes following him as he backed away slowly, step by step. "You might as well stick around, Samuel. There's nowhere you can go to hide from this. Nowhere in the world." He kept moving and I let him go, dismissing him from my mind. I had but one thought now. One aim. One goal. One desire. I turned my back to the Auphe to face the empty wall and held my hands out, fists clenched. Behind me they stood… a concert crowd waiting for the headliner to come onto the stage. They nearly filled the warehouse now that all were gathered together in fatal anticipation. The panting grew heavier behind me and then faded completely to a deadly and waiting silence. Before me one cleared wall flanked by speakers stood blank, a canvas waiting for the artist's hand. Beneath me the undying fury of restless souls howled for release.

I gave it to them.

Their energy rocketed into me with the force of a freight train and I reveled in it. Every inner part of me was clasped with greedy, ravaging fingers as the souls continued to rush up through me. Mindless, gibbering fury and need, it kept coming and coming until I thought I would explode into a thousand shards of rage and death. And it was for me, all for me. I felt my muscles spasm into rock-hard knots, felt my eyes open wide and stare at nothing. The sizzle of ions raced over my skin like lightning and the blood seemed to boil in my veins as I rose into the air. Feet inches off the floor, I was a fly in amber. And still it went on, an ocean pouring into a teacup. I found myself straining, stretching, swelling, until every cell shrieked out in protest.

Then it stopped. Finally, the influx halted and I hung, burning from the inside out. I still couldn't see, but I didn't have to. Opening my hands to frame the gate, I channeled all of that frenzy, all of that savagery, into one amplified, earth-shattering note. Singing was the one thing I had in common with my banshee sisters. For different reasons, yes, but we all sang. Some called it wailing or screaming or even shrieking, but it was none of those things. It was beautiful, passionate, life-destroying song. And that song fed every iota of the stored energy within me into a dark creation, channeled it into a wholly unnatural birth.

The gate opened.

It was as simple as that. A little song, a little dance, a little open sesame, and here we were. Good-bye to electric blankets, good-bye to hot showers, good-bye to fast food, designer clothes, fast cars. And so long and farewell to the human race. In the end, I guess it all balanced out. In the end, it was the end.

My vision returned and I saw the gate swirling sluggishly on the wall, eighteen feet tall by nearly the same number wide. Through tears in the rippling and foaming gray light, I could see glimpses of a velvety purple sky dotted with stars nearly as big as your fist. Air wafted through, warm and redolent with sulfur, bitter musk, and sweetgrass. I remembered the smell. It was the scent of lava rivers, massive animals that moved as majestically as ships, and grass a shade of green no longer found in nature. It was…

"Home." The Auphe said it for me. In their rasping, sand-scraping tongue they said the word with more reverence than I'd known they had in them. "Home."

With the energy gone from me and now bound into the gate, I was dropped back onto the floor. My arms were still extended and I was shaking with the effort to hold the rip in time and space. "No time like the present, boss," I gritted between clenched teeth. "This baby isn't going to stay open much longer."

Behind me came a snake's hissing sigh from a hundred mouths that yet managed to sound as one. A culmination of centuries of want and work had arrived and the Auphe were joined as one in the moment. And together they took that first step in perfect synchronicity. I heard it: a ponderous thud that echoed like thunder. The lightning came a split second later in the form of a sword stroke when Niko and Robin came out of the left speaker. It was like a magician's trick: Now you see them, now you don't—only in reverse. Niko's blade had split the speaker cover from the inside with one quicksilver slash. Stepping through the opening, my brother paused as his eyes took in the Auphe army and then locked on me. His hair was gone. The waist-length, dark blond hair had been sheared close to the skull. It meant something, that. I wasn't sure what, but it tickled in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn't scratch. Robin appeared behind him and freed my attention.

The speaker, damn, that was ingenious. I'd noticed the imbalance when I had sung. I'd assumed a mechanical malfunction. I'd been wrong. As I'd ordered, Samuel had provided me with speakers… one for me and one for betrayal. It was one frigging inopportune time for the son of a bitch to develop scruples. He must have gone to his niece to track down Niko and then collaborated to bring him and Goodfellow here. When his conscience reactivated it'd done so with a vengeance. I should've eaten him when I had the chance.

Sweat prickled the back of my neck as the gate continued to swirl, and I could feel its pull growing stronger. Within minutes it would exhaust the power within it and begin to siphon my own life force. If that happened, it would instantly turn me inside out. While a nifty special effect, it wasn't exactly in my best interest. I was willing to work for the Auphe; I was not willing to die for them. I doubted it would come to that, however. As deadly as Niko and Goodfellow could be, the Auphe had the numbers in this situation. The numbers, the rage, and the desperation. Even Nik would have to fall before that.

"Nik." I gave my brother a wolfish grin. "You didn't say it. How disappointing. How's it go again?" I hummed a tune from an ancient cartoon. "Here I come, to save the day."

Robin was studying the gate with a peculiar mixture of horror and longing on his triangular face. His hand moved to Niko's shoulder and squeezed until his fingers blanched white. "No. It cannot… ektos mas. Niko, it is the past. It's a time before humans. If the Auphe go through there…" He didn't have to finish. I could see Nik grasped the implications immediately.

"Close it." He moved until he stood between the gate and me. The point of his blade rested in the hollow of my throat. "Now."

The resulting trickle of blood coursed down my chest until it bisected the flesh over my black heart. Out of my sight I could hear the Auphe rushing forward. There were almost on us; I could feel their murderous outrage like a heat at my back. Then the sawed-off shotgun dispersed that heat with some of its own. I watched in disbelief as Robin, joined by Samuel, pulled them from beneath their coats, moved to flank me, and fired. What the hell? Had they mugged Rambo on the way over or what? Still tied to the gate, I turned my head to see Auphe flying through the air, some of them in pieces. "Ah, shit." I staggered and whipped my focus back to the gate. It was destabilizing. Setting my feet, I held on to it and did some more cursing. This time it was in my own language, one that was all but made for foul words.

Niko's eyes hadn't shifted even minutely. "Close the gate, Darkling. Close it or I'll open you."

"Do we really want to have this conversation again?" I snarled, my patience fast eroding. Past him I could see that the gate had solidified somewhat, a good sign. "You can't do it, big brother. We've already seen that."

Goodfellow and Samuel let loose with the other barrels and discarded the guns before reaching back inside their coats for more. These were more along the lines of automatic weapons, and I had to wonder with irritation where the flamethrowers were. Just goes to show that you can find anything in the Big Apple if you know the right people to ask. As they began to fire again, I risked another glance over my shoulder. Guns or not, I couldn't fathom the Auphe retreating now… not when they'd come so far. Apparently, they couldn't fathom it either.

They were still coming, leaping over the dead and the •shattered, the wounded and the bloody. Covered with blood and ragged flesh, they kept coming. Lead-borne death was not going to stop them. As far as I could tell, it wasn't even going to slow them down. They were going to pass through the gate. Whether they went over the three in their way or through them, it didn't matter. It was going to happen. At this late stage in the game there was no way to stop it.

My brother refused to accept it. The bastard had always been stubborn. From the time I could walk he'd been bossing me around. For that matter, he'd done his best to boss all of creation around. But he'd never been able to make the world do what he'd wanted it to do—he had never succeeded in making it leave us alone. Now he stood in front of me, giving it one last shot, although I think he knew it was futile. Refusing to give in because that's who he was. From beginning to end, that's who he was. "Shut it down." The sword was unwavering at my throat. "I won't tell you again."

"You wasted my time telling me at all." I couldn't use my arms or hands in my defense, but Nik had taught me better than that. My own predatory talents didn't hurt either. I aimed a flashing kick at his knee that he avoided easily. It was a feint and I didn't expect it to work. What he didn't anticipate was the poison that I spit in his face. Even distracted by the blow directed at his leg, he still managed to dodge far enough to the side that the venom missed his eyes. He reeled backward as the skin on his left jaw and chin began to redden and swell. It wouldn't kill him; chances were it wouldn't even make him sick. This new body, merged though it was, was slower to produce toxins. It had taken me this long to make any at all and it was nowhere near full strength. If I'd hit Niko's eyes, however, I would've blinded him. As it was now, he'd have only an agonizingly painful allergic reaction.

Meanwhile, I could simply kick him to death. Perhaps it wasn't as festive as blindness, convulsions, and the vomiting up of internal organs, but it would have to do. With his free hand clawing at his face, Nik staggered and went down to one knee. I lashed out and slammed a blow to his thigh that took him all the way to the ground. The next one landed in his ribs. My headset tumbling off from the exertion, I was poised for another kick when I caught a flicker out of the corner of my eye. It was the first long slide into home base.

The bullets were still flying, but one Auphe passed through the curtain of them as if it were a gentle summer rain. He bolted past me and leaped toward the gate in a motion as liquid as flowing mercury. He almost made it. He was three feet from the gate and still in midair when Niko's sword cut him in two. One moment Nik had been on his side with my foot in his ribs; the next he'd flown to his feet, spun, and taken out the Auphe with one stroke. The newly sleek blond head whipped around and he snapped at Goodfellow and Samuel, "Keep them back!"

"Oh, was that the plan?" Robin countered acidly. "Perhaps I should've written it down." Swinging his gun, he slammed the stock into the face of an Auphe who'd made it too close. Ichor and mucus sprayed into the air in a peculiarly artistic fan pattern.

Samuel kept firing. He had less to say, but it was considerably more to the point. "Hurry, damn it!"

And then the blond head turned my way. There would be no more warnings, I saw. No more chances. That's when I remembered about the hair. The knowledge scurried out of the depths of my brain, and I heard the distant blue velvet chuckle of Mommy dearest. It was something she'd once told the two of us when I was young enough to think her booze-soaked ramblings were bedtime stories. This one had been about her Gypsy roots. I suppose they were partly ours too, although she never made any effort to include us. Sophia came from Greek Gypsy stock. The customs of both groups had been intertwined and one particular old Greek tradition had been adopted by the Rom of that region.

You cut your hair for those who have died. You cut your hair and you mourn.

"Cyrano." I met eyes that in different times had been the same color as mine and said ruefully, "Really?"

I could've stopped him. I would've lost the gate, but I could've stopped him. The picture of how it would go was clear in my mind. I would drop the gate, swivel in one motion to wrap my arm around Samuel's neck. When I turned back, I would have his gun and I would have him between glittering death and me. As the blade pierced my hostage's heart, I would unleash enough bullets to turn Niko into a distant memory. Easy, simple, and I could've done it. I could have.

But I didn't.

Instead of Samuel's heart the sword slid into my abdomen like it was coming home. My hands fell to close tightly around my brother's. His fingers were cold and they shook minutely beneath mine. We both held on to the hilt like it was a lifeline. Odd. It wasn't anything near that… for either of us. "Well." I barely could hear myself, my words that were softly carried on failing breath. Niko heard me, though—I could see that in his face, in his eyes… in the depths that swallowed all light, all hope, all faith. "Look at that." Falling to my knees, I felt the relinquishing kiss of metal inside me as I slid free of the blade. I smiled up at him, the faint curve of my lips almost genuine. "My mistake. I guess you have the balls after all. Good for you, big brother." It felt final, those words. I let go of Niko to cup my hands over my stomach and watch with detached fascination as my life simply flowed away.

And as I went, so did the gate. It fell at the same time Niko's sword did, one just an echo of the other. Where once had hung a passageway to a time long ago, now stood only a blank wall. I dropped my eyes from the nonexistent gate to the fallen blade and then looked back up at my brother. "What? No souvenir?"

Nik didn't react to the comment or to my next one about the sky falling. In fact what he was responding to was anyone's guess. He didn't seem to notice when the sound of gunfire sputtered to a halt as Goodfellow and Samuel ran out of ammunition. That this happened in almost the same instant that the building began to collapse didn't seem to catch his attention either. Every iota of his considerable concentration seemed to be focused on me. I couldn't say how long it lasted. Maybe it was only seconds, but it seemed longer, much longer. What he saw, I didn't know. Silver eyes, transparent skin, fading consciousness, and a growing pool of blood—that was a given. But what did he see beyond that? I just didn't know. For the first time I couldn't read him. I'd seen his despair, his anguish, and then I'd seen it drain away to be replaced by… nothing. Nothing that I could identify, in any case.

Coming to some enigmatic decision, he blinked empty eyes and I was pulled over his shoulder before I could put up a fight. Not that it would have been much of one. Then he was running. As he went my vision began to darken and I allowed a decision of my own to be postponed. I never had been one to throw in the towel, not in either of my incarnations.

Behind us came the Auphe. I couldn't see Robin or Samuel; they must have been ahead. I could see my former employers, though. There were only slices of them as I sank further into cloying blackness, but it was more than enough to let me know my ass had been canned. If they caught us, separating my remains from the others would be a matter of DNA analysis. I'd failed them, but even worse than that, I had ruined their guinea pig. This body had what was a potentially fatal wound. It was now useless to them, and without it, so was I. The rage in their faces and their fiery eyes was for me as much as for Niko, Goodfellow, and Samuel. No two weeks' notice, and severance pay certainly wasn't looking like an option. I let the thought swirl down the drain to be replaced by another. It was a repeat of an earlier one. I could've stopped Nik. I could've stopped it all. So why didn't I?

That was pretty much the last truly coherent thought I was capable of. After that, there were only flashes… of light, sound, and a waning comprehension. We were inside under raining debris and only steps ahead of a maniacal horde. Abruptly a chunk of time disappeared and we were outside. I was still dangling upside down and staring at a part of Niko I really had no interest in. "Not your best side, Nik," I slurred more to myself than anyone else.

I didn't get a response or if I did, I was too far gone to recognize it. Suddenly everything spun, from asphalt to starless sky, and I found myself placed into the backseat of a car. Robin's voice came from the front as he turned over the engine. "Are we sure about this, Nik? You know they'll kill him. He doesn't stand a chance."

"We don't have a choice. Now drive." Niko's answer vibrated against me and I realized I was in a reclining position with my back against his chest. He had an arm wrapped hard around me with his hand holding a wadded cloth over the slash in my stomach with an unyielding pressure. It hurt, more than anything should. Despite that or maybe because of it, my attention drifted away to the back window of the car. I could see Samuel, just barely. Although the streetlights were working, my eyes weren't as cooperative. Still I could make him out. He was at the door of the warehouse, standing just inside it. His gun and ammunition but a memory, he was swinging Niko's sword with inexpert but lethal force. He was barring the way. He was all that stood between the Auphe and freedom. A part of me was impressed, stunned. A very small part of me. The larger part sneered an internal, "Sucker." Then we turned a corner and he was gone. An instant later the glass of the car windows shook as the roar of a collapsing building was heard. Choices. It all came down to choices.

Samuel had just made his.