In Darkness, Truth.

Darkness engulfed him, it had been his only friend while serving time as his Father’s slave.

“If you won’t lead, you will follow,” he had said time, and time again.

After his speeches, they would come again. Torturing the man that he was, the human part of what he’d lived to be. The flesh and blood, man of the cloth, that wound up being the son of The Destroyer.

Clawed hands would rend flesh, fire would sear into organs. Death would come, but merely watch, as if knowing he could not die, or it saw that glimmer of something in the eyes of The Son, the glimmer that no one held onto the way he had for the years he had been locked away in glowing shackle and chain.

His hand pressed into the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. A boxing injury, earned years ago at Our Lady of Hope, while trying to teach some of the after school kids a better way to live than on the streets of Chicago. As a priest, he had the respect of the flock for working with the boys, keeping them from a life of gangs and teaching the importance of education. From the boys, he earned respect by keeping the peace in their families. If one of the boys mentioned that their mother had brought home a lay about, while she was off to work to support them, Greg offered jobs through people in the church with small businesses, or even hired them to paint or clean around the place. Some turned out good, others wanted nothing more than a new support system.

Saying all the right words when alone, but trying to spend increasingly more time away from the kids, or worse, getting closer with the kids. Truth had seen all kinds of men, helped many of them, and was proud of how they’d become members of the church, helped others find their way down the road away from a confused woman, and scared kids. The thoughts of his own mother and father, the ones that had raised him, with raised voices and domestic violence a common place, he had sworn with the collar he’d not stand by to let another kid go through that, if he could help it.

For nearly twenty-three years he had helped countless families. Set many onto the path of the straight-and-narrow.

Then a series of events lead him to see the world was more than man and beast. The bad side of good, the disadvantages of up.

He met her.

The woman he loved, while very much a woman, turned out to be someone from stories he had read as a child.

A fae, of all things, and it seemed he had glamoured her.

The trust was there. She had chosen him as one of the Misfits. Man of Faith, so named “Truth,” and that name stuck. Rarely did she use his name, and she found slowly he was the most stable of her friends.

Love was shared.

Fear was faced.

Never talks of a marriage.

Then a miracle.

The miracle of a life.

Created by a couple in love.

Then?

Hell.

This is madness…

Is it now darling dear Spade, or should I call you Mother? Mommy Dearest. Dearest mum.

Don’t. Do not speak such things. You do not exist. You are not real. You are dead. I saw the blood. I knew the pain. I saw the end before the beginning.

Did you now? Interesting notion that… for I… as much as I burn… am very much alive.



The words resonated in her head even as Sidonie bolted up out of bed, sweat soaked and gasping for breath as the bright tourmaline of her eyes cut to the window. Was it just the storm that had awakened her or something more?



The nightmares had not ceased to haunt her since the night Truth had disappeared. A part of her memories recalled a mention of suicide, another part of her thoughts considered it homicide, but her heart made her believe and suspect that Truth was very much alive.



Fingertips trailed to her stomach, feeling and searching even as the covers were thrown off. Spade expected to find the crimson mark of blood to soil the pale ivory of her nightgown but it remained flawless and pure in the white wedding beauty of silk.



Like a woman haunted, a woman torn between nightmares and dreams, reality and fantasy, Sidonie staggered over to the vanity to regard her own dark reflection. A startled blink as the mirror did not reveal her reflection but instead that of a young girl. Before Spade had a moment to react the mirror altered the reflection once more to show the dark fae the vision of her lover, Greg O’Malley.



“Truth?”



For a moment she was tempted to press her fingers to the glass in hopes that the mirror would act like a portal but instead the woman stumbled back to sit upon the edge of the bed.



Something was truly wrong.



Things now more than ever were not making sense.



A shake of head and her fingertips brushed along her temples as if the very gesture would soothe away the worry and the fear.



For so long she had suspicions that she thought to be only hallucinations or hopeless wishes… but now with these visions Spade was starting to question her own sanity.



What truly was happening? What had happened? What had gone wrong.



Everything…



Spade no longer had the heart to weep, no longer had the strength to scream out in rage.



Instead she fell once more into the sanctuary of giving in and giving up as she felt the tendrils of her own sanity begin to slip away.

In the pit...

Another body was thrown with such force that the bars nearly bent, even with the meat and bones breaking on impact. The blood sprayed thick and high into the air, and the child had barely moved. The pair observing could have sworn they hadn't even seen her move, other than when she started she had been by the back of the cell, when she was done, she was perched on her bed, staring up at them. With a flick of pale wrist, the demon that had been against the bars convulsed heavily, and a bright, white light began to crack through scales, breaks in flesh, and eyes. The light so intense those observing had to shield their own eyes.

"Another one, dead."

?The joys of raising a female child, away from her parents. Do you think she suspects??

?Have you heard her mention them??

?No, but I assume, with her father?s blood, and from what we know of her mother...the child will be powerful.?

?Will be powerful?" The taller, more muscular of the pair actually laughed then. "What is she now, if not powerful? You mean that she will become even more powerful." He leaned over and stared down at her, as if studying her. "The child has said only two words during her time here, well that I?d heard her speak.?

?What did she say? She?s said nothing to me, no matter what I?ve put her through.? He was proud that he hadn't been killed by a mere child, no matter the blood of The Destroyer flowing through her veins or not. If given the chance, he would kill her, and prove them all wrong, but curiosity was his weakness.

?Truth and Spade.?

?What??

A shrug of muscular, onyx black shoulders, ?That?s what she spoke. Quietly, and with reverence. Some sort of importance to her.?

?She?s killed three so far, and her power grows.?

?Even more with those two words.?

One clawed hand moved to rub absently at the gleaming black eyes, while they peered down upon the dark haired female. ?Has he found The Son??
?No, and I would not ask that if you even think he?s within ear shot.?

?I thought he heard all in the pit.?

?If that were true, you?d be dead...?

Suddenly, without warning, and no time to scream, the smaller of the two burst into the flames of a thousand years of suffering and torment, scarring the rock floor on which he had been standing.

The other turned to face the man that joined him. Dressed in a dark suit, with red tie and kerchief, he smiled when the demon bowed subserviently. ?Master, I...?

?Silence,? The word wasn?t spoken, but it was heard plainly. ?If you are asked again, The Son walks the Earth again, using what he learned from us. He can kill us, and be hidden from us, all the while walking among the humans.? The Destroyer walked to observe the child, who stared back up at him with tourmaline eyes, the eyes of her mother, with the hatred of her father. ?My own grandchild hates me as much as my son.?

?You can deceive her.?

?It matters not, what meat I wear,? He said with disgust as he turned from the cell. ?She sees me as I am, my true form.?

?And she still faces you with hatred?? The demon shifted from one foot to another, looking from the cell, to his leader in shock. ?She?s not scared of you?? asked in disbelief.

?That child, my granddaughter, will either destroy us or make us more powerful than ever.?

Save me. I need you. You are of the Darkness. Lead the Wild Hunt once more. Save Me before it is too late.

Spade had become used to the lack of sleep and when she did sleep she dreamed of a girl child. A child that to some of the Fae would be considered as an abomination, to others a blessing.

The promise of salvation and yet Spade felt an unyielding twist of hopelessness and agony as the nights grew short and the days longer.

She had spoke with no one about the nightmares. Had confided in not a soul for she no longer trusted any one. Not her family, not her Misfit Toys, and especially not the Dark Fae.

"Lead the Wild Hunt."

Sidonie mouthed the words without giving voice to them as she recalled her dream. Or was it a nightmare? Or... something more.

Tourmaline eyes narrowed to mere slits as she could feel the rich velvety pureness of her power pool through her spirit and stream eagerly through her veins. A low growl that was far more beast than fae escaped her throat as she dressed.

Spade did not need the mirror's reflection to know that her appearance had altered to reveal her true form. The glamour dropped her flesh glistened in a hue the shade of molten gold left accentuated by the sheen of obsidian. The Black Dogs that ran rampant along her flesh.

They were awake and eager. Oh so eager for the Hunt.

Before she exited the room she grabbed the last few remaining weapons she possessed.

For a moment the reality of it all settled within her spirit and Spade smiled.

Truth be Told... Spade was the real weapon to be feared.

Movement in the apartment caught his eye from his spot in darkest shadow. Through his eyes he saw her, as she dropped the spell, became her true self.

?In darkness, truth remains,? He said as he leapt from the roof to land on the narrow edge near the window of their once shared bedroom. It was time that she knew she was not alone. Time she saw her lover, her companion, her friend and what he had become in their time apart.

He looked at the lock he had installed what seemed like years ago, and with but a thought, the lock slid open, allowing him to duck into the room. She had grabbed something, something from a memory he thought lost. The blades he?d used on a rampage through the Summer Court. The night he made a new Queen, the night he started a downward spiral.

?Sidonie?? His voice cracked as he said her name, it was his voice, but mixed with the darkness of brimstone, the heat of the pit. He tried to clear his throat, and then was slammed to the floor with the weight of the world. He could feel his Fey?s power, but there was another, reaching, grabbing, and needing her, before turning focus on him.

?You are supposed to be dead,? The voice echoed through his mind, causing his eyes to squeeze tightly together with the pain. Even in the time served as his father?s object of hate, he?d not felt the pain like this. Wild, growing, and out of control. ?Suicide, really?? Another wave of pain slammed his body, forcing a sound from his throat. ?I expected more...?

Greg pushed to his feet, he didn?t kneel in Hell, he wasn?t going to start here. ?Enough!? He shouted, and the voice went silent. ?Sidonie, STOP!? He couldn?t see her, but he did not intend to lose her again.

The words snapped through her like a command, an order that the Black Dog had no desire to answer to. As Gabrielle of the Wild Hunt why should she respond or answer to any order save for one of her own?



The very nerve of undermining her will by trying to command the Gabrielle brought the low growl to resonate deep within her chest with the foreboding of a snarl.



Spade instinctively felt her fingers tighten their claim around the knives in preparation for a fight. A fight that she was so willing to invite and entertain the notion of.



Like the Hunter she was born to be she searched the shadows as the vibrant tourmaline of her eyes slowly bled into the ink dark of the Gabrielle.



It’s not a trick. It’s real. It’s true. Truth. Him. He’s returned.



“Quiet. Nobody asked you.”



A clip sharp as cracking ice ruined the normal lush black velvet of Spade’s rich voice as the growl grew in her throat and threatened to strangle the life out of her words.



The Gabrielle and more so the Black Dog that the Gabrielle harbored cared nothing for love or lovers, mates or caretakers. The Black Dog cared for nothing more than the Wild Hunt and the chase after prey. Oh the sweet thrill of the Hunt.



The Black Dog craved the spill of blood and the sharp rendering of flesh. To clean and polish with tooth, nail, and tongue the marrow from every single bone.



Still something within Spade’s spirit kept her centered, staring into the shadows even as her senses heightened and she crouched low in the stance of the predator’s pounce.



The knives themselves were held out to herself. Inch by inch the smile turned upward upon her lips as it grew more wicked.



The Gabrielle though had no chance to pounce even as the gold glisten of knuckles turned diamond white in the grip upon the knives.



It was not a scream or a snarl that escaped her lips or even a whimper as the black ink of her night dark eyes was brutalized by the severing pierce of a tourmaline spark.



Like a match had been lit to ignite a wild fire inside her own soul. No screams or whimpers for a prelude to the end of the days but instead a whisper.



“Truth…”

“Truth...” she said in a deep disbelief. He stood upright, preparing for a fight, he’d seen her when she was one with the hunt. The ink black, running her arms, crossing her chest, and taking the tourmaline eyes to make them as dark as the pit itself. It was part of her, as much as Hell was part of him.

He kept his hands at his sides, loose and ready, but in a non threatening gesture his palms were held toward her, showing the scars left after his body had been ripped apart, and put together again so many times he’d lost count. Everything was always fixed, and he was put together better than he ever had been. No marks on his near perfect flesh, except for the jagged crosses of his own design. The last laugh of a sadistic maker.

“Sidonie, please...it’s Greg,” he started a slow move toward her. He’d watched her for two nights, he’d seen her sit up in sweat soaked sheen, searching, scared, and confused. He knew, as he could nearly see that she was at a severe loss, and after all he’d seen her slowly losing her mind looking for him. That was the real Hell, watching the ones you love while they suffered agonizing loss and defeat. “I know The Hunt calls you, I can feel it too, but feel me. You know it’s me, and not a trick.”

He took a step toward her, slowly. Though there was a spark of recognition, there was also the dark pull against her. Something was wanting her to run wild, out of control, hunt something...no, someone that was calling to her.

“I don’t know where you are going, or planning on going, but stop...please, and come to me.”

In the pit...

“She woke with a scream,” He said quietly, peering down into the cell, then back at his new assistant. “It is the first sound she’s made since she’s been here, even when The Master has attempted to torture her.”

“The Master has tortured a child?” The new assistant walked to the overlook, and peered down at the girl who was now staring back at them. “She seems...harmless.”

He reached out with a massive hand and pulled the much smaller assistant back by one of his onyx horns that protruded from the side of his greenish head.

“Do not let her appearance fool you, Ursef. That child is dangerous, and her body count has risen to seven now, including one of the Mid-Echelons.”

“Pardon me for not believing you Belphegor, but I do not see her as being able to do that. Mid-Echelons are a step under what I can do,” Ursef boasted, looking offended that a mere child, a female at that could wield that sort of power, but he hadn’t considered that the Demon of Ingenious Discoveries and Wealth was overseer of her.

“You’d do better to mind your forked tongue in my presence, Knave. You seem to forget your place, and whom you are speaking to.” Belphegor straightened to his full height, a move of intimidation. “That child has the blood of The Master, and that of an Unseelie Court Fae, all indications point toward a powerful, and higher up at that.” He said proudly as he glanced down in curiosity as the child began to pace in her cell, looking like a caged animal. “Her age may be a hindrance, and most physical power increases with puberty, she already shows great promise.”

“You lie,” Ursef spat as he too looked over at the pacing girl. “That creature is not part of The Master, The Destroyer...he would not allow something that weak to live!”

While they watched, the child’s fingers at first started to turn black. She glanced toward them with fear at first, then a nearly feral smile crossed her face. The fingers of her right hand then began to crawl with a dark energy, much like their own. A quick look upward at her captors, and one of Ursef’s horns was snapped from his head and shoved deep into his chest. Belphegor stepped back quickly, and pulled the lesser demon with him, quickly removing the broken horn from his body, and allowing him to start the healing process.

“She has her Grandfather’s temper, Ursef. I should have warned you.”

It keeps on hurting. It never stops. They keep on trying to break me but I won’t break for them. I swear I won’t cry. I’ll never cry. I may go mad but I never will cry…



“Just stay strong. We will come for you. I swear.”



The words left her lips before she realized they were to be spoken out loud. Head bowed she was solemnly aware of the brush of strands of her hair brushing against her jaw. Spade left her gaze lowered toward her feet even as the depths of ink slowly bled back to tourmaline while she looked upon the blades in her hands.



Slowly the growl died from her lips as she heard his voice pierce through the fury and hunger of the Black Dog. The effort to quell the desire to unleash the Wild Hunt was excruciating. The very effort was a pain that literally brought Sidonie to her knees as she snuffed out the last whisper and craving cry for the Hunt.



Within her there was silence near deafening from the sudden peace that consumed her. Bit by bit the sanity that seemed so distant before began to return to her as she gazed upon her hands.



His voice seemed to fill her senses, pouring through her spirit and warming her soul as she dared to lift her eyes toward him. At that moment she felt how the Fallen must have felt when judged by their Maker, or how it must feel to be before one of the Shining Ones.



“Please don’t judge me. I did what I had to do.”



A whisper. Spade felt nothing more than bespelled as the confusion and fear returned that had haunted her each and every night. The exhaustion that the Black Dog had buried within her slowly crept back and weighed down her limbs till she felt weakened by her own resolve.



For a moment she didn’t see him but one to serve as the Judge, Jury, and Executioner. This was the finality of her days. She knew it now.



The blades were sheathed silently as her hands dropped uselessly in her lap, fingers weaving and unweaving before her as she waited for her sentence.



Tell him. You have to tell him. We live. Both of us. We live. We are all alive… shouldn’t he know?



“What does it matter, child. I am already damned. This… is madness. You the insanity sinking through. I must be judged for my crimes. It is my time.”



The words were weighed not with defeat but acceptance.



Deep down Sidonie began to believe that maybe, just maybe, she really had lost her mind. After all she had to be if she was speaking to a child never born. A daughter that never knew the light of day or a breath of life. Only to know the Darkness. Nothing more, nothing less.



Just as her mother was meant to.

He stood in silence, watching the blades sheathe, and listening to her as she spoke. The growling that rolled from her throat turned to words. She was speaking to someone, someone he didn?t see, but rather felt briefly, before he realized they were alone in their once shared home.

In one way it was like her body was starting to heal itself. It was like he could see the shards of her sanity repairing itself, not unlike a shattered mirror pulling itself back to completion in a solid oak frame. He wanted to wait, watch for the recognition, and then she spoke again, the words cutting deeply as he understood what she said.

?Please don?t judge me. I did what I had to do.?

He could feel her waiting for the blade to drop. She saw him as an executioner. How cruel the powers that be, who would send the man she looked for, the man she wished for, the one that she wanted, after a string of playthings, to be the one to place judgement on her dark head. The ultimate torture. The ones you truly loved, placing judgement for your sins.

Her hands left the blades resting in their sheaths, and began to fuss with one another, almost as if she was unsure what to do with them. Dark hair was shorter now, but hid her face from view while she kept her gaze lowered at her lap before finally looking up at him, the ink gone, replaced by her eyes. The eyes that held love for him, now held an uncertain curiosity as she watched him standing over her.

Finally her hands dropped to her lap, and she looked defeated...fragile. Greg moved closer, wanting to take her into his arms, and she spoke again. Mentioning a child, and being damned. Madness and insanity, then finally saying it was time for her to be judged for her crimes.

There was no sadness.

She expected what was to come.

It would not come this night.

?Sidonie, love...I am not here to judge you. I am here to be with you, and I literally went through hell to get back to you.? His voice was quiet, serious in tone. The way he?d talk to her through the nights after they?d made love and started to drift off to sleep. The way a man in love spoke to the woman of his dreams... and she was that woman to him. ?I couldn?t judge you, as I am not without sin myself. I am your Truth, Love... feel that, please.?

Greg knelt down into the floor, before he finally, carefully wrapped his arms around her, and made a silent vow. If her mind was shattered beyond repair, there would be a war in hell like they?d never seen.

?Now tell me, please... who are you talking to??

It seemed an eternity before Sidonie felt like her sanity was returning. Her eyes focused on Greg even as she made the determination that he was real. That he was real and so very much alive.



At first she had to wonder if her mind was shattering even more to give her this illusion, this hallucination to continue her suffering. Moments passed where she found herself watching him and seeing him for who he truly was. Greg O’Malley, her Truth.



The softness of her laughter escaped her lips as one hand lifted from her lap to curl upon his arm as soon as he embraced her. He felt so real and warm and so alive that Spade felt maybe he truly had spelled her.



A shake of head as the laughter fled into the sanctuary of a sigh as she dropped her head to push into his chest. It would be so easy to give in to sleep and to submit to the exhaustion. The weariness that Sidonie felt had been a constant in her life ever since she believed she had lost them both.



“Oh Truth…if only you knew.”



Her lips twisted into a faint smile as she drew back from his embrace, cupping his face in her hands as she searched his eyes. His question seemed to resonate through her mind in a repetition of foreboding.



For a moment Sidonie remembered everything that had been before. Her life. Her siblings. The Misfit Toys. The men that had come and gone from her life. Spade reflected briefly on them before her memories stopped on two. A memory of the Unseelie male that had sought to have her as his consort. Then there was the memory of the one she had believed to be an angel. A true vision of love personified. Just the memory left her snorting with dismissal before her eyes narrowed into slits.



Maybe there were the ones to blame.



Perhaps they were not as they seemed and maybe they both had glamoured her. Would it not be like her very own kind to corrupt and twist minds, to break and ruin spirits?



Demons had after all been mistaken for angels once so very long ago, and her kind considered as gods. Why could this not be any different when it came to the broken state of her own mind?



Lost in thought she felt like she was drowning in her own mind before his voice seemed to bring her back to the surface of reality. The smile resting on her lips was bittersweet even as her eyes began to bleed back into the shade of the Gabrielle. They used to say that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… well they didn’t know did they…



A woman that had lost her daughter to Hell, well that… that… was an entirely different story.



She rose to stand with his assistance even as she felt her strength return. Would he think her truly mad if she answered him? Well only time would tell.



The time was now.



“You ask who I was speaking to? I… I was speaking with our daughter, Truth. I can hear her, and she… is in Hell.”

She rose, after the embrace. Her eyes fading back to the ink darkness, causing him to wonder if her fragile mental condition crumbled and they?d fight as they had before. He could feel her strength returning, and even though she was using him to stand, Greg found himself readying for another attack. There was more to him now, than the first time, and he knew it would be a battle he would regret.

?You ask who I was speaking to? I... I was speaking with our daughter, Truth.? It was her voice, not the growling of the Gabrielle, his Fae, Sidonie. His chosen, speaking of their daughter, lost in Hell.

At first he wanted to question her. Maybe one of her kind was playing a cruel trick, trying to entice her to lead the hunt again, run wild, away from society, become their weapon. Maybe someone had tracked her down, looking for him. Demons could talk without being seen. They could put the voice in her head, just as if they were talking over morning coffee. They could be using her to get to him, take him back, and make him pay. Greg studied her face, she wasn?t lying, and she wasn?t on the verge of a break down. She was telling the truth, she had talked to her daughter, their baby girl.

Daughter?

He?d seen her lose the child. The pain, the blood. The mental breakdown of a mother who had thought she had a dream life only to lose her heart bonded mate, and daughter within weeks of one another. The stress of losing him, he?d seen caused the loss of their child. He saw it all during his time in the pit... had they lied? Demons, lying? Surely not.

Greg was trying to be strong, not only for her to see and know he was there for her, but also for himself. Her mention of the child, and the realization that she was telling the truth, and had been speaking to her was enough to rock him nearly to the floor. It should be no surprise that his father would take the girl. He wanted her in the past, why not take her now that he?d made his escape? Thoughts flashed through his mind, wondering if her capture had been why his escape and time since had been so easy.

Hell.

She wasn?t going to Hell alone.

His daughter wasn?t going to stay there.

Greg wondered what would happen should he sacrifice himself to free them both. The mother would have the daughter, yet the lover would be alone. Would her mind hold up to losing him again, or would their daughter grow up with a shattered mother? He would think about that, when the time came. If they went against The Destroyer they could all wind up as prisoners, and he wasn't going to let that happen either.

Dark green eyes took a red glow, as he let the inside out.

?If she?s there, you aren?t going alone, and she won?t be there long.?

Sidonie watched him with that wondering what the plan would be. The Gabrielle of the Hunt visiting Hell with him was something that Spade had never expected to be part of her life. A lover with a child, a family, all of those things seemed strange for Spade to take into account.

"I wasn't planning on going alone."

Tourmaline depths flickered up to consider him once more, a flicker of a smile before she shook her head and looked away.

"Though I cannot help but feel strange to realize that I will be traveling to a place that is for those that are damned. What price is it that I would have to pay for merely being there to bring our child from those depths?"

A purse of lips before she looked back to him. If anything the hardships that Sidonie endured made her all the more insightful. She realized that she had done many things that could make her deserving of Hell. Her relationship with Truth after all could easily be viewed as something that would curse her to such darkness and despair. Hell would likely tear them apart.

Spade closed her eyes to draw in that uncontrollable sensation to shatter again emotionally and mentally.

"I don't want to risk losing everything for a bit of something. If we go there and this is all a ploy to destroy you... it would ruin me."

Sometimes she loathed the fact that she could not lie. Pushing fingers through her hair she turned to look at him as she steeled her resolve once more.

"Then let us get this over, love."

Ursef stared at the cell, and the body just outside the bars. Another of their kind had fallen to...her. The girl that would be chosen. The direct bloodline of The Destroyer, the daughter of a fae, and a half human male. She held no candle to himself, a true blood demon, yet she could have killed him, had Belphegor not intervened.

Long, dark fingers ran along the jagged edges of the scar she?d inflicted, using his own horn as a weapon, and found himself frowning. He had let his guard down, and that would not happen again. He straightened himself up, and started to walk toward the stairs that wound down to the cells, where she was kept.

?Going somewhere, Ursef?? Belphegor asked in an accusing tone.

Ursef stopped, and turned to face his superior, as he hadn?t expected to see him, let alone be stopped by him. ?Belphegor,? Ursef?s face split into a smile, before he bowed his head in greeting. ?I was just going to look for you.? He lied. ?I was going to report the child has killed another.?

?She would have killed two, had you followed through with your plan to go down and face her.? Belphegor laughed as he pushed past the smaller demon to peer down over the cells. Of all the creatures and people in the cells, she was the only one that held his attention. Everyone and everything else could be killed with but a thought, but this one, if he managed to kill her, he would be signing his own death warrant. He knew what The Destroyer was capable of, he?d fought in many battles with him at his side. If the girl had even a quarter of his power, he?d be foolish to make a move against her.

?She is not invincible,? Ursef spat. ?You heard her scream.?

?I?ve heard The Master scream, but that doesn?t mean I wish to make a move for his seat.? Belphegor said calmly as he watched the girl watch him. He could almost feel her in his mind before he backed away from the viewing overlook. ?She?s got his blood, you?d be best to remember that, else you find yourself like the others that have been dragged away to the Deepfire.?

Ursef himself had dragged some of the lesser to the Deepfire, and watched as their bodies incinerated in the hottest flames of hell. A pyre worthy of any great being, it was an honor for the fallen to be carried up the steps and cast into the inferno. ?When my time comes, it will NOT be at the hands of that child.? He turned and walked away, leaving his Superior fighting a rising smile.

?Keep thinking that, Ursef,? Belphegor smiled, before he realized he could still feel her in his mind. ?And you, young one... do not think me weak as those you?ve killed.? He closed his eyes and returned a spike of his power against her mental link and smiled as she cried out. ?You are not that strong, yet.?



Cloud Nine.

How could he explain where she was going? Hell seemed to be different for everyone that went there. But to those that were going in to get someone out, how would it be? He knew the answer was, it would be how they, the demons and the like wanted it to be.

?It?s nothing like you?ve ever seen. Even in the nights you laid, alone, picturing everything and fighting your own personal demons... crying for your losses, it?s more powerful than that. If they find a weakness, they will use it to their advantage, Sidonie.? Greg found himself pacing while he thought. The time in burning chains, sinking in molten rock, and other ways to keep him from moving as they tortured him with the visions of his love, and their child being lost, had made him into a pacer.

She mentioned not wanting to lose him, seeming to sense as he had it was a trap to get him back into the pit, back to his father, back in his place. ?You won?t lose me, but if it means sacrificing myself to be sure that you and the little one get out safely... that is a choice I will make then, please understand that...? He turned to watch her. She was just as beautiful as the day he met her, and she still made his heart swell.

?I want you to stay close, as I open the door. The Lesser won?t come close, but above that, they could be wanting to make a name for themselves.? He leaned to kiss her, a long, slow, passionate kiss. One that reminded him of the first night they had made love, the kind that made your vision blur. A real kiss, from a man in love with a woman he would die for. After lingering there, tasting every bit of her kiss, he looked down at her with glowing, red eyes.

?One last thing, I need your blades.?

Is our bite worse than our bark, or is it that bite that matters?

Trust me child, it is the bite. It is always the bite



The faintest curl of lips would stain the dark fae’s lips into a smile as she felt the mind bond fade away. The sensation of pain briefly seared through the center of her own being before the connection was severed, but it was not enough to leave Sidonie distraught. After all she was beginning to believe that their daughter was far stronger than many would expect.



To face and enter Hell. Spade could only imagine it was likely as bad or perhaps worse than the Unseelie court. The gods themselves knew that Sidonie had seen her share of the violent and despairing within the containment of her own court. The very awareness that she was the one destined for the throne of the Dark Court left her wondering of her worthiness. Was she truly as twisted and corrupt as the Court she was meant to lead?



More so… if she was to lead… would they follow?



The distance in the depths of tourmaline were a giveaway of just how lost in thought Sidonie was before Truth brought her back home. It seemed such an illusion, a frivolous bit of foolery to realize that she had called the store Cloud Nine. Cloud Nine indeed. Looking back, Spade was starting to wonder if maybe she was stripped of any promise of anything like Heaven.



The smile turned into a bitter smirk as she thought of her past since she had been in Rhy’din. Angels surely were not what they seemed anymore, and demons had become faithful friends and now, looking at Truth, so much more.



“My world is upside down.”



The words became muffled, silenced with Truth’s kiss. It wasn’t just reflection that had her world going topsy turvy and twisted into ribbons of faith and loss, hope and despair.



It was in that moment and through that kiss that she was awakened and reminded of everything between them. All that had been shared. Everything worth dying for.



Spade’s smile broadened into something vibrant and lively. A spark of a vision of the fun-loving woman she once had been. That vibrant spark reached her eyes before the tourmalines widened in surprise by his request. Fingers instinctively and protectively fell to rest upon the hilts of the twin blades she possessed.



“The blades… why ever would you need them now?”

The smile, the vibrant and lively smile that the kiss had caused made him smile, though his visage was far from anything friendly. The normal Jade of his eyes had turned into a Ruby red, back lit with fire from the pit. His flesh seemed smoked, as if he?d stood too close to a roaring fire, or had been held above it. His arms seemed to move with something underneath the flesh, causing the veins and muscles to bulge at different times.

His thoughts flashed back to when he?d first met her. He was a stranger in a strange land. He thought he was nothing more than a hunter, an ex priest who had nothing to show for his life, except a flock he left with nothing but misunderstood reasons as to why he had to retired. The bar they?d met in, talked in, and he felt like a priest at times then as well. He would listen, she would talk. He met her friends, made some of his own, but he found himself spending more and more time with her, and that he was enjoying that time. The night he moved in to kiss her, hoping that she didn?t have anyone, or want another, he knew. He knew that he?d found his mate, and that nothing would come between them, until everything else he thought he?d known, came undone.

Demons showed up, one in particular, and turned his world upside down, and was intent on making him, her Truth, the next great destroyer of worlds.


?Things have changed, and after we get our daughter, we?ve got a lot to discuss Sidonie, but I need you to trust me with the blades, you will get them back.? He moved closer, and reached for her hands, hoping that she didn?t pull away from him. ?I want to be sure that you are fighting fire...with fire.?

Fire with Fire. The words seared through her mind even as Sidonie watched the change come over his eyes. The heat seemed tangible as if Truth himself possessed hellfire and brimstone within the center of his own being. Damnation brewing beneath the flesh. In his arms she instinctively took a step back as the Black Dog of her own spirit went into overdrive.



A low growl was issued into a hushed warning as the tourmaline of her eyes were painted in the oil black of the Gabrielle. The tilt of Spade?s head and the movements of her body in that moment were almost canine as the Black Dog possessed each and every fiber of her being.



So many had been left without the education of the Dark Fae and the terribly beautiful creatures of the Unseelie Court. Even those of the Fae born weren?t always those to know of what the ?beasts? of the Unseelie Court were forged of.



Spade knew what the courts whispered of under their breath when they spoke their nightmare threats about the Black Dogs of the Wild Hunt. She also knew of the stories mothers would whisper to their children to frighten them into good behavior. Spade had heard all the stories and knew them well. The Black Dogs became known by a new name when the world was overcome with the notion of a one true god and the devil that ruled a kingdom below.



They were known as Hell Hounds. The Devil?s own pets and private hunters.



Fingers tipped with flesh rendering claws brushed and claimed his jaw as she leaned close. The Gabrielle sniffed light along his skin, the warmth of her breath brushing along his pulse in almost a lover?s caress as she stepped even closer. A growl rolled seductive as thunder in the heat of a summer night from Spade as her lips and tongue grazed along his jugular.



Briefly the Gabrielle believed and felt like Truth truly tasted like home.



That one taste left her shaken as Spade regained control with a stumbling back from him. Her palms pressed out against his chest as if in warning as much as a reaction for his safety as she contained the part of her that was the Gabrielle.



The heat in her eyes was unmistakable. Deep and unfathomable that look in her eyes carried a burn as savage as wildfire. Spade?s hands dropped to her sides and with a hushed hiss the blades were withdrawn.



?Take them.?



Even now the growl lingered and lapped lovingly at the words she breathed out, breathless with the intoxication of a hunger that she would never, and could never sate.

Her guard went up, like he had expected. She was different, but he could still see her. Things changed within him, and though the Gabrielle rose to the surface, she was still his Fae. Some would find her frightening, he found himself wanting her even more. Her scent changed, and he could sense it. Darkness desiring darkness. The Hound of Hell and The Destroyer?s Son. A volatile mix, one that should not be expected.

The claws brushed his jaw, sending an involuntary shiver down the spine of the man, but fueling the blackness within. Her face nuzzling his neck as she nearly pressed her body to his, brought desires from both. Lips and tongue against his jugular, the need was nearly intoxicating. The growl, soon echoed by something of a response from him.
As he was about to wrap arms around her, she stumbled slightly, and pressed her hands to his solid chest. He knew then, should they give into the darkness they both held, it would be a night like none other, and a night that shouldn?t happen.

He stared into her eyes, the burning within made him smile. She felt everything he had felt, so he offered more. He opened his eyes wider, opened his mind to her, the contact of her hands with his chest would allow her to feel everything he felt. See everything he desired and much, much more. The memories of the pit, he kept shielded, he knew that she loved him, and even the closest of lovers do not share everything.

Greg nodded his dark head as he took the blades. He could sense the same power they held as he walked through the Summer Court. His hands slid the hilts slowly, feeling the craftsmanship and again noting the balance of the steel. Words began to fall from his lips, and the raised crosses of scarred flesh began to glow softly. His chant became faster and eyes closed slowly as one blade was in the right hand pointing downward, while it?s twin was in the left, pointing upward.

?Darkness born to walk the Earth, Darkness created to rule the same. I command the darkness to spill the blood of the fallen with this steel, in the hands of another.?

The soft glow became brighter, nearly as bright as a noon time sun, and in a flash it was gone, leaving them in a breath of darkness before the light of the room found them again. The blades were twisted in his hands, and offered back to her, hilt first.

?Our daughter waits,? Greg said as he stepped closer to her again, leaning to lift her chin with his strong hand, though gentle touch. A long, lingering look into her eyes, and a smile formed before he moved in to press his lips to hers. ?We will bring her home.?

It never ceased to amaze Spade and fill her with wonder at just how much a simple touch, the mere contact of flesh against flesh could reveal so much. In the span of what was possibly only a minute or perhaps just a moment she saw all that Truth revealed. The revelation was something that could take her breath away.



The softness of a smile creased her features and brought that sparkling intensity to her eyes as the Hound realized her control once more over the Unseelie Sidhe and tourmaline depths once more were brought to gaze upon her beloved. She had seen it all through the eyes of the Hound as much as she had through her own Fae eyes. The knowledge of all that he had endured and the changes to her Truth during his time of damnation brought easily the hunger of the Hound as much as the startled horror of Spade. She knew there was so much more that he kept hidden from her to assure her own emotions would not suffer but that she would not question.



She understood now that they both shared a renewed kinship born by the darkness held within them both. Darkness was not always evil, and truly Spade would never believe her or Truth to be considered evil. After the chant was breathed from the lips of her lover and the blades returned to her possession she found herself reflecting on the centuries past.



The time near forgotten when as the Hound she had hunted and never was there an angel that could escape her Hunt. How many wings had been broken, how many bones had the marrow licked clean by the Hound. Too many, far too many. Enough that Spade realized that not even dear, darling Cupid himself could survive the wrath and strength or sheer force of will that Spade possessed as the Hound.



Spade figured poor Cupid the fortunate one for never having the opportunity to realize that about her. A poor match that would have been for the Hound easily could reveal the weakness in them all. The Hound could break down and destroy till there was nothing left but despair and misery. The Hound was never meant to be paired with the weak nor the needy, the desperate nor the longing ones. The Hound was meant for an equal.



One to wander and work well with her in the Hunt.



The Darkness ever did not need or desire love as much as the Darkness would need and desire the longevity of that which was meant to last in all true bonds. Passion could fade, Love could die, but ever… oh ever…. Did Truth remain and belong with the Darkness.



Spade smiled through the caress of lips, her own voice a lush murmur of promise as her brows lifted imploringly.



“So where do we start?”

"We start, in the place I left to find you...unknowing I had to return." Greg smiled slightly, thinking of taking her back to Hell. Should The Destroyer know he brought the mother of his grandchild... He locked that thought away. Abaddon would never know. "Stay close, don't lose control, no matter what you see, believe in two things, Sidonie. Our love, and the love of our daughter."

He fell away from her, the chant rose from him as he raised his arms toward the heavens, then threw them back toward the floor. The Darkness seemed to pour from his hands and form around them. He looked at her with eyes of Hell's Flame, then wrapped his arms around her as the ink black of that same darkness seemed to pull at them from every direction.

"Remember my words, Lover of Truth. You will see things no one is meant to see. You will live the pain of those you love...meaning my own, and hers. Be strong for both of us."

With his words, their once shared apartment seemed to shift and groan under a great weight, and they were gone, leaving nothing behind except a rapidly dispersing darkness.

In the Pit...

"What is she smiling at?" Ursef asked as he glanced downward again. "She is smiling, thinking this is a game!" His anger rose, and Belphegor sighed, having grown tired of the other's desire to prove himself. "She smiles and you do nothing!"

"If you are so worried about why she is smiling, why don't you go down and ask her why?" Belphegor suggested with a smile, then smiled as Ursef fingered the still healing scar on his chest. "I am sure that the mixed blood would be happy to tell you."

Ursef eyed his superior, knowing that it was a challenge, and knowing that this particular challenge could wind up costing him his life, but he wasn't going to give the satisfaction of being known a coward.

"I will do just that!" He spat before turning and walking the long steps down toward the cells.

"This," Belphegor mused, "will be entertaining." He walked to the edge, to observe the interaction, and wondered how Ursef's death would be. Something slow and painful, as when the child turned one of the underlings inside out, or fast as she just willed him gone. Time would tell.

"Why are you smiling, Welp?" Ursef demanded as he neared the cell holding the dark haired child. "Tell me or you will feel the pain you caused me."

"You won't touch me." She said in a soft, nearly musical taunt. "You can't." She smiled again at the demon.

Belphegor watched from above with interest then felt the power rush from Ursef, he was wasting too much, but wanted to prove to her that he wasn't as scared as the Superior knew he was. The child dropped to one knee beneath the force, but the smile remained as she slowly pushed back up to her feet, and turned that power against the being that wielded it like a sword.

Ursef fell to his knees then, watching her with wide eyes and what could be called genuine fear as he knew what sort of mistake he had made.

"Silly creature, you've been told what I am. You've been told *who* I am," She was smiling then, showing straight white teeth. "Yet you come down to impress me with your power?" Small hands balled into fists and the force Ursef had used began to multiply to the point of pushing Belphegor backward. "You want to know why I am smiling, Worm?" Tourmaline eyes of her mother stared down as the demon was being pressed closer and closer to the floor. "I am smiling, because they are coming, both of them." As soon as she finished saying what she had to say, and showing Ursef his weakness the power ebbed away like a retreating tide. "You should finish your business, Demon... I won't kill you, but she will." The child smiled again, and turned her back to the creature.

Belphegor laughed lightly at the look on his subordinate's face, but he worried about the child's warning. If she spoke the truth, a war was coming.

I will child, I will destroy them all

Hell was what you would make of it. That was once what she had been told centuries ago by ancient creatures that claimed themselves as holy. Blasphemous rumors the whole lot of what had been spoken by the winged ones.

Spade's anger pooled within her, burning hot as Truth transported them both to the Pit. Her fingers curled easily into fists as she felt that hatred feed her hunger for revenge. That hatred for now would be a temporary biscuit to sate her.

The proximity of the Pit brought the most unusual and unexpected of sensations to stir within. The sensation spilled and trickled through every fiber of her being until the tourmaline of her eyes bled black and became the eyes of the Hound.

She had made her promise to Truth that she would not lose her temper or her control, and that she would not. Her grip became bone knuckle white with anticipation before her fingertips lovingly caressed the hilts of her blades. Spade could feel herself ease into a predator's nature of relaxation before the promise of the Hunt.

Her mind placed a dancing display of feathers being ripped from wings, limbs severed and snapped to the bone and the smile the visions brought to her lips was one of beautiful savagery.

Stay patient, lovely, we are coming

Surely their daughter knew but Spade wished only for that reassurance to be shared. It helped Sidonie focus on something more then the odd sensation stirring within her.

The sensation that their arrival to the Pit felt like coming home.