*No one thinks Love is necessary until they have it*

(This chapter is sex-lite; be warned)

Death is only the Beginning

Marissa stepped out of the sedan; black glasses stripped with red, crimson trench coat, red boots that included knee guards, black tights, and magenta blouse. Had she felt amorous enough they would have been shown the silk lace black panties and bra, but Marissa hadn't let anyone that emotionally close in decades – almost a century now and that last time hadn't ended well.

Marissa counted herself as one of the ten strongest powers along the East Coast. Until one hundred and fifty years ago, that they were so many powers so close to one another hadn't been a problem. They had all (but one) been exiles from the Old World – Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. The population of humans, and thus the Night Siders, had been small and the distance between Holds seemed great enough.

Then came the railroads, the Industrial Revolution, and automobiles (plus the paved roads that followed right after); distances shrunk and populations soared. Old allies fell to newcomers, the Failing (the inability to keep up and the resultant fall into obsolesce until the world became too unfamiliar a place for you to function in), or even to power struggles in their own organizations.

She could hardly complain though; she hadn't suffered the Failing, she'd grown her brood and her power to levels unimagined by her sire with that one's deep desires to rule from the frozen forests and towns of what was now called Russia (she'd never called it the Soviet Union – she had vampire cousins, aunts and uncles perish to the cruel experiments of the KGB), and crushed numerous rivals in the intervening century.

Nearly twenty years ago though another rival, Armand, came from the bottomless pit of those envious of her status and prestige. It had been the scion of a now-deceased enemy, well-prepared and strong. Armand had destroyed a subsidiary associate in a blitz move, but came craving peace with her on his belly. She should have annihilated him then but ...

Night Siders didn't exist in a vacuum; they created structures inside each city, be they Fey, Vampire, Shifter, or Spirit. Each such structure owed allegiance to a Liege Lord, such as Marissa, who owed fealty to a Dominator (from the Latin) who ruled a designated region. The Dominators in turn reported to the Council of Night. There were rumors of a council within the Council, or even one Dark King, or Queen, who ruled over them; something she been quietly looking into for some time.

Armand's move had been 'messy' and the Council was concerned that further conflict would make things worse in the Daylight World so they sent in a mediator to establish a peace between the two. Marissa, knowing they wouldn't give her Armand's head, asked for a third of his domain instead. She had made Armand accept the deal, grovel before her ... and she had prepared for the next round.

Five years ago Armand had come for her with more force than she thought he could muster, but she had not been caught napping. The very night after a mid-day fire had burned down her favorite home she'd launched her counterstrike. She'd hurt and embarrassed him more than he thought she could and he had grown cautious.

He had wounded her organization, but the price was him never sleeping in the same place twice and skulking about always in shadow – always in fear. In the past three months he had become more desperate and vicious to the point that things had spilled over to the Daylight World once again. The Council stepped in once more calling for a cessation of hostilities.

This led her to this meeting in the Bronx to be mediated by a Council of Night representative. Both parties could bring two bodyguards, but that was it. The ambassador didn't want another bloodbath. Failing to comply, or violating the sanctity of the parley, would bring down the full force of the Council of Night which was the surest way to end one's existence, so here she was.

Her bodyguards were the Fey Tegus mes' lauda and the Vampire George Upton. Neither one was her best soldier; those were defending her interests just in case Armand decided to be petulant. Tegus was a wandering mercenary, but they had a history and more importantly, he was in her debt. George was a warrior youngling of a close friend on the West Coast who had sent him back to New York to experience some of what Night Side life had to offer in a different city.

As they crossed the street, Marissa saw a figure coming up the sidewalk in their direction. Marissa studied him while she moved – a human male in his early twenties, with two shoulder holsters and ... one at his back and another in an ankle holster? Someone was out for a night on the town, but he was human and not her problem.

Gordon fidgeted nervously causing Marissa to wave him off and Tegus to smirk at Gordon's inexperience. Tegus was millennia old and only the curse that called all Fey to let their dreams bleed into reality kept him, and his breed, from being the best fighters in Creation. Fey were equal parts frighteningly proficient and needlessly flamboyant in all they did which, in Marissa's mind, made them wonderful lays but lousy lovers.

The human reached the doorway first, opened it and then held it for Marissa silently.

"No, you first," she told the man. He nodded and headed in, immediately heading upstairs where Marissa went looking for the basement. She hesitated inside long enough to get a feel for the place, scent the air, and study her environment.

It was an old tenement, probably a firetrap, and inhabited mostly by the indigent and drug users. There was a heavy chemical scent from upstairs that lay slightly beyond the human sensory range. There was also a strange, unfamiliar vibration in the air.

"We don't want to be late," Tegus reminded her when she tried to concentrate on the taint and track its origin.

Marissa sighed and headed to the basement door and headed down. Not even Armand was dumb enough to break a Council of Night parley and Armand valued his own vampiric existence above all else. The greatest asset the basement held was that it had been cleared of all subsidiary walls, creating one large open space broken up by support columns.

The openness also revealed to Marissa that she was alone with her guards; there was no moderator and no Armand. Tegus sensed her unease and turned to look up the stairs they had only then come down.

"I don't like this," Gordon whispered. "Marissa, we should leave." Marissa gave a cur nod and motioned Gordon behind her as she backed up. She owed it to her friend on the West Coast to bring her offspring out of this alive.

"That won't be necessary," a dry voice, devoid of life, spoke out from the darkness. Three figures stepped out of the far brick wall.

"You are the representative from the Council?" she asked.

"No," the leftmost figure spoke in a rasping voice, "I am Armand's messenger."

"Get out of here," she whispered urgently to her cohorts. To the thing before her, "The Council will not be happy with this," she warned. "Where is their representative?"

Marissa's sixth sense felt it before her ears picked up the noise of Tegus' steel clearing his scabbard, casting out his power, crashing the illusion beneath the reality he had enacted.

She spun, words forming on her lips telling Gordon to look out but it was too late. She caught Gordon's head leaping from his shoulders in a fountain of blood.

"Tegus! I hold a debt over you," she screamed at her former ally. Fey were bound by their debts.

"Not anymore Bitch," he sneered evilly, "and the Council of Night says 'hey'." Marissa dodged under his backstroke and kicked Tegus hard enough to send him rolling several feet away. Regrets and reason mattered little right then. She could figure all of this out later but right now she had to stay alive. Marissa bolted up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

She opened the door and squatted to avoid the large clawed hand that nearly tore her breasts off; a werewolf and she could hear another behind it. She slammed the door and raced back down and straight into Tegus, bowling him over. She somersaulted over his prone form, rising and running ... where? The three 'things' she'd seen earlier were rapidly closing with her, short curved blades at the ready in one hand and small crossbows in the other. Their faces were drawn and gaunt in such an extreme way that they could only be one thing – mummies.

She had lived her entire life and met only one of these rare Night Siders; now in the last seconds of her life she was getting to meet three of these immortals at one time. The closest one shot its crossbow and missed. She kept running at them, bent over and grabbed a broken brick and hurled it at the middle one right as he shot her. This bolt took her an inch above her right breast, searing her with unnatural agony.

Her brick struck true, shattering the middle creature's chin into dust and bone fragments. The thing staggered but was by no means dead or even disabled. She bolted between the middle and right mummies but the right one slashed deeply along her side, cutting along the hip bone. The left-most one, the only one to speak, withheld his shot and took steady aim at her.

While she was past the mummies, she was running out of room. At the last instant she caught sight of an abnormality in the ceiling above her; the floor had rotted away, been replaced but was now rotting once more. Marissa jumped up, grabbed a water pipe running along the ceiling roof and swung up with the aim of propelling her feet, followed by the rest of her, on to the first level.

It wasn't a great plan, but her backward glance showed Tegus and two werewolves closing fast. Marissa was sure she could take one werewolf; age and experience gave her the edge. She might take two werewolves but would be hours recovering. Tegus was nearly her equal; Tegus, two werewolves, and three mummies, whose real capabilities she knew only by conjecture, was certain to earn her a painful, violent end.

She grabbed the pipe, felt searing fire lance through her back, slicing between the vertebrae and heart; lucky and damning at the same time. Marissa refused to lose her grip, finished the maneuver and blasted through the rotting ceiling, the first level floor and tumbled uncontrollably into the wrecked space.

Her body answered her commands, allowing her to push up, go to one knee then stand and run for the closest window. The anguish from her shoulder wound began spreading out. She ripped the bolt out because while most poisons didn't work on vampires, a few select, specially prepared toxins would work their way to the heart and paralyze her.

There seemed to be nothing she could do about the one in her back; right now she had to get to some kind of public space where they were far less likely to press their advantage. It wasn't much of a plan but it was all she had. She threw her body through the closest window, getting ready to shatter glass and spill to the pavement of the alley beyond.

Marissa could hardly have been more surprised when she bounced off the frail glass and landed back in the room, driving the bolt in her back even deeper. Magic! Some kind of warding magic that stopped the egress of Night Siders; she was going to die. Only that unconquerable will that had driven her for three centuries stopped her from staying on the floor and accepting her fate.

The first mummy through the hole in the floor got a boot to the skull and tumbled back down. Marissa rode the momentum of the kick, stood and ripped the closest door off its hinges. The first werewolf bursting into the room from the hall took the door as a body shot. She didn't put - her through the wall, but the female werewolf's body made a permanent imprint.

The second werewolf salivated as it came on next. Marissa switched up the door to use as a battering ram and charged into it.

"I'll kill you Leech," the beast snarled. Werewolves are bigger and stronger than Vampires but they were mortal; they were born, grew old and died. Vampires grew older and stronger as long as they stayed sane.

Marissa drove the door into the werewolf, hitting from throat to stomach and knocking the wind out of her assassin and it off its feet. She let it keep the door, added insult to injury by landing on the thing while running over the monster. Hope against hope she ran with all her might and rocketed into the door - and bounced back.

A third werewolf - a third - grappled with her as she tried to rise. The bolt in her back was injecting a freezing venom into her heart; she only had a minute, maybe two, of mobility left. That probably didn't matter because her current attacker was pressing down on her with slavering jaws snapping for her face.

Bang! Bang! Two gunshots rang out in rapid succession, impacting the werewolf on top of her and throwing it to the front door. The beast shrugged off the blows and regarded the newest player as it regained its feet.

"Shoot it in the head!" Marissa screamed to the young man who had entered with her. Most likely the human was shitting himself as he got a good look at what he just shot but Marissa refused to give up.

Marissa could see two mummies racing her way as she pushed herself against the wall and up. The werewolf flicked its eyes over to Marissa, snarling, then back to the man. That was all the man needed; his gun fired and a chunk of the werewolf's head exploded away. Even as it staggered a second shot virtually decapitated it.

In a vague, drugged out way, her mind struggled to understand who this guy was. All she knew was when she hurriedly staggered up the stairs toward him; his gun moved by a fraction and the gun fired once, twice, three times. Marissa realized he wasn't shooting at her but at the closest mummy.

The first two appeared to have been center-mass which had little to no effect. The third shot sheared off the mummy's wrist, causing its hand and blade to fly off out of sight. Marissa's kick knocked it through the railing, back to the first floor. Now she could get up and race past the human. Two more shots rang out then nothing for a brief second succeeded by a rapid crescendo of a smaller caliber firearm.

She took just enough time at the second story landing to see the man racing after her, a different gun in his off-hand. Marissa saw the stairs going up but was becoming too weak to run.

"How many of those hairy things were there?" the man asked as he slipped an arm through her arm, pulling her along.

"Five, I think ... including the one you killed," she panted. Marissa didn't need to breath but the pain in her chest was so intense it was her only way of release. "Three of those other 'dry' things, plus one - something else."

"Scratch two more hairies then," he stated with an icy calm, "plus one of those undead things."

'By what dark light did this human manage to kill three werewolves in less than thirty seconds?' Marissa wondered. Her thoughts were curtailed by the man swerving away from the stairs and into one of the apartments. Even with her diminished sense she could smell blood, death, and the horrendous stench of chemicals. She was in a meth lab filled with what were most likely dead meth dealers.

The man clearly had formulated a plan and the Night Side Lady was rapidly approaching helplessness in his grasp. He flipped out a knife, stabbed a barrel of some noxious substance and dumped his empty handgun in the gathering pool. They stumbled into the next room as the mummy, this one jawless, came rushing into the room followed by a werewolf.

It took them a split second to track Marissa and the gunman but that was all he needed. The human tossed Marissa aside and under some cover. She heard the oncoming footsteps and so the man's gun switch from the door the assassins had come through to ...

The explosion lifted Marissa off the wall and onto her face. The man went somewhere else.

Marissa pushed herself up and struggled to stand. Her unlikely savior was half-buried under the door that had separated them from the meth lab but he seemed concussed. As she pulled the door off of him her ears picked up slightly unsteady steps from the next room over. She pulled the dagger she kept in her boot and readied herself. The human had reduced the odds to one werewolves, one mummy and Tegus.

"You were always too stupid to realize what was best for you," Tegus coughed. He was suffering burns and blast damage. Sadly he still had his blade and his insufferable ego.

"Why?" Marissa slurred. "I had your debt. We had history."

"The Council transferred one of your debts to me, freeing me from my obligation. I only accepted the bargain if they let me be the one to kill you," he gloated. "As for why, you conceited cunt, you told me 'no'. No one tells me 'no'."

Marissa set herself for one final lunge; one last act of pointless vengeance but all Tegus did was laugh and step back.

"The rich thing is I don't even have to do a thing," he mocked her. "Your body is shutting down and soon I'll take up to roof and watch as the Sun takes you. I'll make sure to use a tarp to let the light creep along your body. I want you to be a long time in dying, but first there is one last task we need to perform."

The man broke Tegus' tirade by moaning in pain, rolling onto his side and curling in a fetal ball.

"The hitman was a nice trick Marissa," Tegus sneered. "There was no way for him break up our little plan, being hardly more than a flea, so I don't know what you were thinking."

"He's not mine, I swear," Marissa shrugged. "Remember I didn't know you were going to break the parley you cock-sucking, limp dick, ball-less wonder."

Tegus glared at her, leaned forward then laughed and stepped back. Marissa could barely stand now. She was done for and that she would go fail not only in life but in the lives of her people ate at her soul like a caustic cancer. At the last second Tegus flinched; he tried to dodge but first bullet hit him dead center between the eyes. The second shot clipped him just below the left nipple and the third shattered his sternum.

Tegus flopped back into the other room while Marissa turned to keep an eye on that door. The man was slow to stand up – humans recovered so slowly and healed even slower. He still kept his gun pointed at the door but it didn't' matter. He had a .22 revolver, his ankle holster weapon no doubt and he'd used three of his six bullets.

"Guns don't work," she muttered to him. The wounds would slow him down, but Fey were more spirit than flesh and bone. To his credit the hitman didn't blanch or run away.

"He's still going to pay for pissing me off," Tegus grumbled as he came back into view.

"Miss, hold this whiny faggot at bay; there is an assault rifle in the other room. I am going to blow his fucking knees off," the human related with utter calm.

He had his effect though; Tegus came stalking forward. Marissa stabbed at the elf futilely and Tegus batted her small blade aside, smashed his pummel into her face and ran her through as she fell down. The elven steel hurt far more than any mortal forged weapon. Her heart shuddered and descended to a tiny flicker and there was nothing she could do.

She had the briefest glimpse of the man diving on a corpse while her near-fatal blow was struck but she was beginning to believe that she and Tegus should have known better. Two barrels of a ten gauge shotgun drilled into Tegus at less than eight feet. It was like a great wind picked him in an angry fist and pummeled him into the wall.

The man didn't stop there. He came on wielding the sawed off shotgun like some Mohican War Club and began wailing into the downed warrior. Tegus would still kill him but he was certainly paying a higher price in pain than he imagined he would; this human was in superb stamina because it was more than thirty seconds before Tegus had healed enough to lash out. Had the remaining enemies come on – Dark Oblivion; the whole building was on fire!

Even as Tegus made the same realization he discovered he had a serious fight on his hands. Tegus was a master of a dozen martial styles; blades and body both. Three times the human tripped him or knocked him down but when Tegus finally got his blade into play Marissa knew she was witnessing the final act. Tegus corralled him expertly between a corner and a window.

Marissa didn't see the next thing coming until Tegus lashed with his blade, expertly moved the tip past his shotgun the human was trying to parry with and bloodily exposed a rib. The play wasn't over yet because the human trapped the blade with the gun and his body and spun Tegus into the window. When the Fey touched the ward he was blasted back – just like the human had seen Marissa jolted at the door.

The two males collided, the human grabbing Tegus by the wrist controlling the sword as they fell to the ground. Tegus was stronger, more experienced, and didn't get tired. The human had some kind of undetectable luck and a survival instinct on steroids. Tegus forced them to their feet; the cost being a small belt knife being driven into Tegus' left eye. That really made him howl.

Blows went back and forth until Tegus maneuvered the man against the wall. The man had to use two hands to keep the blade at bay which freed up Tegus' left to start choking the man out.

The human brought his knee up into Tegus' crotch. For Tegus, the act was more humiliating than painful – mortal flesh could do him no lasting harm.

"Enough of you Insect," he spat in English so the human could know his death had arrived. Tegus brought up his left knee to the man's hip, removed his hand from the man's throat and grabbed the boot dagger he had there and got ready to stab his opponent.

The flaw in his strategy was as he shifted his weight he telegraphed the move. Both the man's hands were tied up keeping Tegus' sword arm at bay but nothing stopped him from smashing his forehead into Tegus' face. Silvery elfin blood splashed everywhere and for an instant Tegus was off-guard. As fast as any Night Sider, the man grabbed the wrist that held Tegus' dagger and drove the blade up into the top of Tegus' neck.

The long thin blade punched through the crown of the Fey's skull, leaving the victim with an eternal look of surprise as death took him; Marissa could hardly believe it. It still didn't matter. The building was starting to fall apart in a blaze, her heart had been stilled, and there was no friendly force coming to her rescue. She descended into darkness unable to cry out her anguish and fury.

Skulking from the Ashes

Inside her nightmare Marissa felt every death; as each one of her brood was extinguished, their dying agony was channeled into their dame's heart and mind. Someone was erasing her from existence. If they all died there would be no one to call for vengeance. She had not been betrayed by Armand – he was a bug; a drone.

No, she had been betrayed by the Council of Night itself, but she didn't know why. Blissful sleep took her before she could tear apart her mind trying to figure out why. Her last thoughts were that it really didn't matter; the diviners of the Council would find her, powerless, and scatter her ashes to the wind.

Marissa regained consciousness as the Sun set once more. Strong vampires such as herself could stay awake during the day if they desired but it took more will than she could currently summon. Her body kept to the supernatural cycle without her to direct it otherwise. What she also felt was warm ... and full. She should have been famished with the damage she'd taken.

She sniffed the air cautiously. There was a vague scent of antiseptic, wood oil, blood, human habitation, some kind of fuel, with a barely perceptible industrial stench behind it all.

"Good, you are awake," the human greeted her. Marissa opened her eyes a slit and regarded him and her surroundings. What she saw made her eyes grow wider and she almost laughed.

"Where am I?" she asked quietly.

"On my boat, the 'Marisol', on the East River," he replied. Marissa snickered, then chuckled then openly laughed out loud.

"Why here?" she questioned.

"It is one of my least well-known hideouts," he shrugged. This was hilarious. One of the few things that could disrupt Night Sider divination was running water and this man had put her on a boat, in a river. She actually wanted to hug the man without ripping his throat out at the same time, and then she noted he had a .45 within easy reach.

Marissa looked around and the next thing she noticed was the IV sticking into her heart. At the other end was a half-drained bag of blood. As she propped herself up she noticed a trash bin nearly full with other bags and medical supplies.

"How long have I been out?" she inquired.

"Four days," he responded matter of factly.

"You've been taking care of me for four days, getting me blood and ... new clothes and, I assume, tending my wounds. Why?" she wondered.

"What was I going to do; leave you in a burning building, or tie you to some chains and concrete blocks then dump you in the Hudson?" he told her calmly.

"I would have thought you would leave me for my own people," Marissa answered. "That would have been the smart play."

"So I'm going to kill all those - creatures and your people are going to do what? Write it off as the price of doing business? Lady, I'm what you call a witness to a crime except there is no law enforcement agency that is going to step in and save me. Helping you is the best chance I have of figuring out what's going on," he explained carefully.

"Did you kill the other mummy?" she hoped.

"Never saw him, but then I didn't want to stick around. I grabbed your dagger, the freak's sword, and you then jumped out the window," he informed her.

"Wait - how did you get me out the window?" she asked.

"I jumped," he sounded confused. "You know, kick out the window sill and take a leap of faith – jumped."

"Ooohhh ..." she grinned. He was human so the ward didn't affect him or anything he carried, even if that thing was a vampire. This fucking human had really saved her life. "Can you -" she motioned to the needle in her chest.

The human picked up the gun and placed it on her stomach then proceeded to gently extract the needle.

"You don't trust me?" she smiled coyly.

"You are a vampire and you subsist on human blood – thirty-eight pints to date – and I've seen you fight poisoned with one critical and two serious wounds; I know, I stitched you up," he said.

"You needn't have bothered; vampires naturally reknit their wounds," she responded.

"I though the same thing, but after I figured out the IV went into the heart, your shoulder and back wounds kept oozing blood. I had to go in and cut out the blackened tissue and stuff the holes with cotton balls and 'new skin'," he explained. "I saved the bolt in case you wanted to try and figure out what in the hell they shot you with."

"Where's the ..." she asked fearfully.

"The bolt is in the trunk at your feet, the poisoned tissue is over there in the tin marked 'Poison', and you expelled the gauze late last night when you were having one of your nightmares. At least I assume they were nightmares; you cried tears of blood," he informed her.

"And you have stood watch over me the entire time?" she whispered.

"No, I go out during the midday hours to get things like blood and supplies, plus I check with my sources to see who is looking for me. Sooner or later someone will put the two of us together and then the shit hits the fan for real. I'm getting ready for that," he added.

"In case you are wondering, I only get two or three units of blood from each source because I figure that is one of your two weaknesses and they'll be looking for that. I am also pretty sure I haven't been followed, at least by normal means," he stated.

"Okay; so I've asked a few questions. Is there anything you want to know?" Marissa allowed.

"What is your name? I've been taking care of you for four days and I don't even know what to call you - besides Vampire Lady," the man said.

"Marissa, Liege Lady - Former Liege Lady of Manhattan," Marissa told him. "Who are you?"

"Tessio Nerospina, independent contractor," the young man answered.

Marissa's head went spinning back to another time and place nearly a century gone. Her eyes gained a tender quality and a dreamy smile crept onto her lips.

"You are Giorgio 'The Rosary' Nerospina's ..." she mused.

"- great-grandson," Tessio filled in when her own genealogical math failed. "You knew him I take it?"

"I didn't 'know him' if that's what you mean," she grinned sensually, "but I knew of him. He was quite a guy during those early days of the New York Mob – a real lady-killer."

"I've heard rumors I have little unclaimed cousins running around out there," Tessio chuckled.

"I don't doubt it, but I could do a blood test if needed," she joked.

She would never get the chance to do that; Tessio had to die. From the moment he had interfered in her assassination and been confronted with her inhuman nature he had signed his own death warrant. As soon as she could Night Sider law dictated that she had to kill him.

"I'll keep that in mind," he acknowledged her offer.

"So, are you a 'made man' yet?" she added. This was also taboo she knew, for him.

"No," he snorted. "I'm only twenty-four. I doubt I'll join La Costa Nostra before I'm thirty, if the offer comes at all. It isn't like the Families are what they used to be."

"Twenty-four? Damn, you are younger than I thought," she re-assessed her rescuer.

"Most people think I'm older," he mollified her. "I took my first contract when I was fourteen and I've been told that gives me an older man's eyes."

"There was a time when the thought of a fourteen year old professional killer would disturb me, but not anymore," Marissa admitted. "Now you Humans can't grow up fast enough to kill one another."

"Are you telling me that you've never fed on children before?" Tessio challenged her. Her first thought was what gall he had for questioning anything she'd done to survive.

"So what if I did?" she responded with narrowing eyes.

"So you hated yourself for doing what you had to do to survive," he commented dryly. Had he been smug about it she would have slapped him across the small stateroom, but he wasn't; he understood some of the dark things one did to live and the marks they left on you.

"So why are you alone?" she asked instead.

"Marissa, I kill people for a living. I've been to all seven continents to fulfill contracts usually on short notice, so I'm hardly reliable husband material. I started training in the martial arts when I was six so fighting is pretty much all I know," he confessed.

"You were in Antarctica? How did that go down?" she was intrigued enough to ask.

"A Russian burned some French associates of the Mafia; he fled to a station down there and I hunted him down and put him under the ice," Tessio related. "It was only that one time though." Marissa knew that Tessio wouldn't be telling her these intimate things unless he knew he was going to die, which made her sad.

"So, what are your plans," she attempted to distract him.

"I have about $50K in cash, a big bag full of guns, and an armored BMW stashed a few blocks away - assuming you and I can reach an accommodation," he eyed her. Tessio picked up the gun and stepped away.

Marissa judged the power of the gun and the quickness of the user. He's put one or two slugs in her before she covered the very few feet between them, but she doubted it would be enough except ... too many dead Night Siders had underestimated this man. She noted the gun wasn't pointed at her; it was pointed at -

"What's in the closet?" she asked.

"Three canisters of natural gas," he acknowledged. Yes, that would do it; he'd kill them both and she had absolutely no doubt he'd take the shot and double sure she couldn't stop him.

"What do you want to know?" Marissa smirked, accepting that his 'mere' human had outfoxed her.

"Tell me your situation and honestly let me know if I have any way of getting out of this alive," he inquired as he leaned against the wall and rested.

"I'm not sure it matters. Any Night Sider – things like me – who sees you and discovers what you know will have to kill you, but since it hardly matters anyhow - I was the head monster in New York City, I had an enemy who controlled things north of the Harlem who somehow convinced our leadership, called the Council of Night, to kill me."

"I am pretty sure that all my - offspring are dead and my allies either dead or scattered. They have had four days to bring my people down, they think I'm dead and I might as well be dead because the Council of Night isn't some organization like the FBI. It is like every law enforcement agency in the World trying to kill me on sight," Marissa explained bitterly.

"Two things Marissa," Tessio wondered, "if everyone on the Night Side wants you dead, why are you enforcing their laws and trying to kill me, and since everyone who was an ally of yours is most likely converted, fled or dead, is there anyone not associated with you that we could go to for help ... assuming we have something to trade for their aid that is?"

Marissa flopped back down on the bed.

"You are not going to let me just die, are you Tessio Nerospina?" she muttered.

"Lady, if you want to die, I'll load the gun and hand it to you but don't expect me to give up just because you've become a gutless wonder," he said evenly.

Marissa's eyes grew wide then narrowed dangerously. Before she could scream at him, or tear his head off she felt his words strike home. Who the hell was she to crawl into a grave and pull the dirt in over her? So she was going to eventually die but they were going to know they had screwed with the wrong vampire lord damn it.

She rolled onto her side, her breasts bouncing slightly.

"How would you like to join me and become a Night Sider as my vampiric offspring; become immortal?"

"No thank you," he responded politely, "but I hardly think being tied by blood to you will help me survive. This is not why I kept you alive, to become immortal. If I am checking out of this life, I'm doing on my own terms."

***

Armand let his gaze wander around the audience hall – his audience hall and a smile crept to his lips. The latest supplicant had been dismissed and now the worst thing he had to do was decide whether he wanted to hunt in the World or have a victim delivered to him.

"You should not dawdle here, Liege Lord Armand," Salvador Rossini rasped out. "It is unwise to remain in places she knows so well." The mummy's throat had dried up eight hundred years ago. The wind forced upon those withered pipes made a sound that made Armand shudder. Why be Night Sider if you couldn't enjoy the pleasures of the flesh?

"She is dead," Armand assured his 'advisor'. "Surely we would have found her by now if she still lived. Your divinations have revealed not a single sign; she's nothing but ashes."

"Barton has returned," the advisor wheezed. "Zyninski, the Liege Lord of Pittsburgh sent him back minus both arms and his tongue." That implied that the Lord didn't trust Armand's words, fear his strength, or respect his ability to defend himself.

"If he was harboring Marissa, you would have found him there, wouldn't have you?" Armand worried.

"Zyninski is no friend of Marissa, but he guesses the truth and despises you for it," Salvador lectured the young vampire. "If he becomes more than a nuisance we will deal with him."

Armand wasn't the smartest undead in Creation, but he was smart enough to cringe when Salvador talked about 'Their' ability to 'deal with' things. When he first started gunning for Marissa nearly fifty years ago Salvador had approached him with the offer of aid. In time, Armand realized that Salvador Rossini worked for the Council of Night itself and four days ago they had realized their dream.

Only now was Armand starting to worry why they wanted her dead and what that meant for their relationship now that she was gone - if he was still necessary.

"If she is still alive, where could she be?" Armand asked as the two Night Sider left the room.

"The human has her," Salvador murmured. "She is staying above, in the Daylight World."

Armand laughed. Humans were dangerous in their faith, their numbers, and their technology, but one human was barely a step above cattle.

"Seriously," he chuckled. "What could one puny human do?"

"He could kill Tegus, two of my soldiers and three werewolves, escape with Marissa and keep her hidden for four days," the advisor pointed out. Armand found the whole idea to be preposterous. He'd never found a human to be remotely challenging. Tonight he'd eat out.

***

"I'm repeating my opposition to this plan," Tessio stated. "It is too soon to risk you and you have no guarantees that those you seek are alive, on your side, or being watched. You should have let me go in your place."

Marissa found that so odd to hear this human lecture her on her own safety.

"You wouldn't know what to look for and this is not a skill I can teach, but a gift we Night Sider's have. They would look normal to you, the same way Gordon and Tegus fooled you - disguised their true selves from you," she corrected because looking back on it Tessio's instincts had labeled them, and her, as threats even those his eyes had told him otherwise.

"I did promise to bring you along to protect me. That should be enough," she sighed.

"Hah," he snorted. "I had the car and the money. You couldn't even afford a taxi and your car stealing talent is unknown. You had no choice."

"Is there anything I can do to shut you up Tessio?" she muttered.

"Sure; next time you do what I say," Tessio offered.

"Deal," she agreed, "stay close, keep quiet, and don't kill anyone without my say-so." Tessio fell silent, not even a hint of a mutter. For the rest of the night she poked around the periphery of the city.

The few Night Siders she believed she could rely in were not around and in one case they had already been replaced. Her last stop was also her last option. Ever careful, Marissa had made one final plan – her Get-the-Hell-out-of Town stash. It was a box with a number of safe deposit box keys she'd entrusted to an old troll grandmother that Marissa had allowed to settle into the subways a century ago.

The troll, Gabra, wasn't fanatically loyal, but Marissa was counting on her repaying kindnesses over the years by giving over the small box she'd given the troll decades ago. With Tessio, she slipped into the underground and down into the tracks, locating the old troll near a substation.

"Marissa," the troll grumbled, "I been hear'n the rats say you was dead." That meant were-rats.

"They say'n that they be taken my trash heaps and my garbage cans, they say," the old troll continued. "Who's the sweat meat? He looks like he need some fattening on his bones."

"He wasn't here and neither was I Gabra. I've come for my box, if you still have it," Marissa spoke. Gabra studied them both closely.

"I think'n that if I give the new Liege you, maybe he stop the rats," Gabra rumbled.

"If you thought that, Armand would have his enforcers here by now," Marissa pointed out, making Gabra laugh. The old grandmother troll put her belongings down and rummaged through them, pulling out a cheap, old tin box.

Tessio was happy that Marissa had chosen something so inconspicuous to house something so crucial. Marissa took it, nodded once and hurried back down the subway tracks without a word of thank you. Only when they breathed the 'clean' street air did Marissa dare speak.

"They are coming for us," she growled. Tessio didn't bother asking how she knew.

"How do we hide?" he asked instead.

"I'm not a witch or a diviner," Marissa thought deeply. "We might still grab a train out."

"I know a witch, or at least someone who claims to be a witch," Tessio offered.

"This is something no human conjurer could handle," she explained. "The Council of Night will be using someone top notch."

"Are our odds any better running than trying out this woman? If she's the real deal you will know right?" Tessio asked. "If she's some fraud, we've only wasted a half hour." Marissa couldn't argue with that logic, mainly because simply running away held such lousy odds. Ten minutes later they were going up to a high rise near Central Park.

"Who is it?" a groggy yet sultry female voice answered the buzzer.

"Blackthorn," Tessio said with a deadly calm – probably his professional voice.

"Ah ... business or pleasure Tessio," the woman said nervously. Marissa groaned; if a woman was afraid of him she was hardly going to have supernatural powers.

"Neither – both; I need some professional advice. Besides, if this was business I would hardly come through the front door and buzz you," he pointed out. There was a long pause.

"Come on up," the woman said, still sounding sexy. The doorman gave them a nod and the elevator came to fetch them up. On the tenth floor the doors opened and Tessio made his way carefully to one of the apartments.

To Marissa everything felt safe and mundane, therefore useless to them both. Tessio came to the fourth door and knocked. A second later the door opened and - the magic flooded Marissa's senses.

"Marissa!" the witch gasped.

"Hexane!" Marissa gasped right back. Hexane reached for an amulet at her throat but before a single word escaped her lips Tessio had a gun barrel pressed to her forehead. Hexane froze; in fact no one said anything for several seconds.

"Hillary, I need your help," Tessio addressed Hexane. "Will you help us, do I shoot, or can you let me and my friend gets back on the elevator and leave?"

"I am afraid you have to kill her Tessio," Marissa told him. Nothing happened and Marissa was at the point of shoving Tessio aside and ripping the witch's throat out herself when Hexane spoke.

"I'll listen to your proposition Tessio," Hexane replied calmly.

In one fluid motion Tessio holstered his gun and stepped aside to let Marissa go in first. Marissa kept still.

"Oh," Hexane smirked, "I welcome you into my home, Marissa the vampire," which allowed Marissa to enter the warded sanctum of her former subject. Once again, Tessio was unaffected because he was human, damn him.

Hexane, aka Hillary Milne, led them into a recessed living room, done entirely in white from the carpeting to the low-set furniture. She took the central seat and waited for the others to get comfortable.

"Well damn," Hexane joked, "I would have never suspected you worked for Marissa, Tessio."

"He doesn't, which is probably why I am still alive," Marissa responded. "Before four days ago I had no idea he existed then he saved my life, but now he knows about us and you know what that means."

"I've never been one for following the rules," Hexane chuckled, "but you always seemed like such a stick-up-your-butt kind of Vamp. How come you've let him live so long?"

"In case you missed it," Marissa growled at the disrespect and wept inwardly at her powerlessness to address it, "I am under a death sentence by the Council of Night so it hardly behooves me to make their job any easier."

"That's the spirit," Hexane smiled. "Tessio, what made you dump this trouble on my doorstep?"

"I need to know if you can do something to protect Marissa from their magical attempts to locate her?" he inquired.

"Marissa, who is looking for you?" Hexane asked.

"Someone good enough for the Council to use," was the only answer Marissa could provide.

"I already know the basics; they have something of you, know your name, and know your regional location, plus they are probably Fourth, or higher, Circle so basically you are pretty screwed," Hexane reported, "but I love nothing more than a challenge."

"What is it going to cost us?" Tessio questioned. Marissa hardly cared at this point.

"I'll want a few things, but let me take some temporary measures to guard us – most likely a Moon ward – it lasts until the Moon rises again, and then we can haggle over cost," Hexane said with some introspection. When Hexane rose, her long bone-colored robe's sash came loose and her robe fell open revealing her naked form. Her long wavy black hair cascaded over her shoulders and covered one of her pale breasts.

It was with more than a twinge of concern to Marissa that Hexane's nakedness caused a reaction in Tessio. She needed Tessio to stay alive especially with daylight coming soon. She had to wait for the witch to finish before pressing other matters. The best spin she could put on the situation was that even when his pulse raced and his eyes flashed to Hexane, he remained on a razor's edge, alert and determined.

"Tessio, would you abandon me?" she found herself asking. He didn't look at her but he was definitely thinking it over.

"No."

"Wouldn't you have a better chance of survival on you own?" she questioned.

"Not relevant anymore," Tessio expressed. "This isn't about survival – that is an illusion; this is about winning or dying."

"Okay ..." she was intrigued, "we can't win. What makes you think we can?" Tessio looked at the ground for a second and took a deep breath.

"If I run on alone, I may live ten years but eventually I'll get killed. In the criminal underground, I have enemies that my current allies keep at bay as long as I play for their side. If I run I lose that protection. All I can do is kill for a living, and that has all kinds of legal problems as well," Tessio pointed out.

"With my human life becoming impossibility, I need to find a way to get into the Night Side which requires you Marissa," he laid it out for her. "My only problem is keeping you alive and in the fight."

"Thank you for seeing that I have some value," Marissa said snidely.

Tessio took a seat before responding. "Everyone fucks up; how you respond is what matters." She sat down beside him without really thinking about it. Her mind made the calculation based on Tegus' betrayal of her and his willingness to fight for her now. Against her well-honed experience she trusted this man by dint of him saving her life when any sane being would have killed or abandoned her.

Hexane came back out, still naked and tossed a glossy black stone to Marissa, who let it hit the coach instead of catching it. The witch smirked but was more careful with Tessio's stone; she delicately placed it in his palm, running her fingertips along his palm and fingers.

"Moonstones; they are the loci for the obfuscation wards. You need to keep them on your person for them to work."

"Marissa, I have dimmed the windows so you can sleep in the guest bedroom," Hexane went on. "Tessio, will you be sleeping with her?"

"I will check her room, but there are chores I need to perform for her tomorrow. I'll take a sofa," Tessio informed them. Marissa was pleased with that piece of news; Hexane was making her seduction of Marissa's pet killer too obvious.

"So how did you two meet?" Marissa asked as she took up and pocketed the moonstone.

"Tessio is as reliable as he is secretive. I am glad no one has traced that little job he did for me," Hexane stated. Tessio remained utterly silent. "Good boy Tessio, you kept the secret."

"I am hired for both my proficiency and discretion," Tessio told the ladies. Hexane closed her robe and sat back down.

"I hired Tessio to kill three members of the Opus Dei who were holding a young witch and retrieve her if he could or kill her if she'd fallen into the Light," Hexane grinned.

"That breaks so many laws Hexane," Marissa growled. "You involved a human in a supernatural affair – you set him against Light Siders and you had him retrieve a young witch. That could have gone poorly for so many reasons."

"Did Tessio see anything?" Marissa finished.

"Yes; the girl shielded us when the churchmen came. I had no orders to do so, but my instincts guided me to trust the girl and get her out," Tessio remained calm.

"When I arrived to retrieve the child, Tessio threatened to kill me. I could interview the child, but if she wanted me to leave, I have little doubt that Tessio would have killed me if I resisted," Hexane stated.

"He protected her until she was ready to join us and that drew our attention and our appreciation," Hexane stated.

"This is the first I've heard of this, which is probably for the best," Marissa admitted.

"Because you would have torn my head off?" Hexane mused.

"No though that would have been the most likely outcome, but since I never heard of it, most likely the person coming after me doesn't know it either," Marissa pointed out.

"Well, there is a lot you don't know about me Marissa. Witches live by the secrets they keep and one of those secrets is that I'm not Hexane, daughter of Vitoria, daughter of Tabitha, daughter of Hillary. I'm Hillary," Hexane revealed.

"That's - at least fifth circle magic - how?" Marissa murmured.

"Who wants the rare witch who is that old and powerful living in their city, Marissa?" Hexane explained. "Wielding that much a magic warps reality and causes strange things to happen; things that threaten to reveal the Night Side to humans."

"I've known of only one Eighth Circle witch in all my many years; never one higher and I've always wondered why, until now," Hexane hinted.

"You think the Council of Night is killing them off because they threaten to break down the Veil?" Marissa mused.

"There strength comes from the separating us from the Daylight World; it makes sense they would act to preserve their power," Hexane told them.

"So all we have to do is tear down this 'Veil' to bring down the Council of Night and we all get to live," Tessio noted casually. "Well, I know what I'm doing in the morning."

"Tessio," Hexane said mirthfully, "the Veil has existed for eight thousand years. It is hardly going to go away overnight because one killer, a witch, and a dethroned vampire lady want it to."

"Why does it exist? I'm not asking how it maintains itself, but who thought it up in the first place? What was their motivation, what tools did they use, and why did everyone go along with it?"

"I was actually studying that," Marissa stated, "so I know most origin myths of what happened and I was sorting through the fable and the fact. It was -"

"Wait, you were looking into the history of the Council of Night?" Hexane wondered.

"I think I know why you are supposed to be dead," Tessio concluded.

"Where did you keep your research?" Hexane asked.

"It is in my vault," Marissa answered tentatively.

"So much for that," Tessio sighed.

"My vault is a Shadow Shard locked with a Heart Key," Marissa explained and then she laughed, recalling Tegus's almost last words. 'They needed her for something.' Tessio looked at her funny.

"Tessio, a Shadow Shard is a tiny chunk of reality that sits between the Night World and the Daylight World. Usually you stumble across them by accident, but in Marissa's case she has a lock that reveals it and they key is a drop of blood from her own heart," Hexane explained.

"And they can't break in?" he questioned.

"They don't even know where to look," Marissa chortled.

"Where is it?" Hexane prodded.

"I'm not going to tell you," Marissa chided the witch, "but I can say it is in a place that is going to be rather difficult to get into."

"Of course not," Tessio stated dryly. "Why would anything involving you be easy? As far as I can tell that would be unnatural."

"Make her work it out in trade Tessio," Hexane laughed. "I hear she is a real hellcat underneath the covers." There was a pregnant pause. Marissa had been breathtakingly beautiful for so long she took it as her due to be lusted after. Tessio didn't look at her with desire though.

"I don't know," he said carefully, "something about watching her turn into a corpse for half a day doesn't do it for me." Marissa looked into Tessio's honest eyes and his words bit deep, as deep as any of the darts that had pierced her shape. He wasn't revolted by her, or sorry for her; he knew she'd made her choices long ago and he'd made his earlier tonight.

Even if the both survived somehow, he'd leave her. He would never betray her, but it wasn't out of love but out of a strange sense of honor and companionship. Love paled and became bitter but honor ... she'd never known it. At that moment Marissa decided she had to have him. She couldn't let Tessio go, watch him grow old and die. She'd make him want to stay with her.

"That's okay Tessio," she smiled, "you've seen me at my worst, but wait until you see me at my best. You may yet change your mind."

"On that note, the Sun is rising and we need to plan out a few things before it is sleepy-time," Hexane grinned. "Now what comes next?"