Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It could have been such a beautiful day.

The sky was clear, not one cloud present to tarnish the bright rays of the sun. And the air was pleasantly cool as autumn slowly took over and the hot, humid summer air dispersed.

„Oh my. That rather is inconvienient...“ David Xanatos grumbled as he looked at the body lying infront of him. One of the security guards of the top floor was lying in a rather unoccupied corridor of the Eyrie Building. And Xanatos didn't need to be a doctor to know that the man was stone dead.

He had been nearly decapitated, his head only hanging onto his body by a few sinews and strips of skin; a horrid wound on his neck. His innards spilled out of his sliced-up belly and blood was smeared and splattered onto the walls and floor. It looked as if a wild monster had attacked him. And there was only one being Xanatos trusted to be capeable of such brutality.

Glad that he didn't have any dinner yet, he told Owen to call the police.

And maybe Goliath want's to have a talk with Demona when he hears about this tonight...

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Macbeth rubbed his weary eyes as he exited one of the museums on the Upper East Side.

The exhibition had been quite interesting, very accurate to the time it displayed, too. And he knew, since he had lived in it.

A rather large collection had shown exponates from people's everyday life to some really valuable pieces of art and jewellery from the years 1000 to 1200 AD. It had been a nice way to pass some time after his reading at a university before he would head back home to read or study or whatever he would do to kill his never ending amount of lifetime. To know that the boredom would never end, even if he soaked up all the knowledge in this world... No, he could not let his thoughts wander there. After the incident in Paris, he had just managed to find some new joy in his life. He didn't want to tarnish it by allowing his depression to take over again. It was bad enough that he had serious troubles sleeping after the whole thing. Like she always used to, Demona had ripped open an old wound, and now it was as if it bled profusely, festered... became infected and pained him every time he closed his eyes.

For a long time, a dreamless sleep was the one thing that brought him closest to death; when he would awake and some of his never ending lifetime had passed. But now he could not even use sleep as a way to escape reality for a short while anymore.

Deep in thought, he failed to pay attention to his surroundings as he strolled down the sidewalk, until he felt a hard crush at his shoulder.

„Ouch!“

Apparently a young woman had also been caught as deep in a daydream as he, for she had collided forcefully with him. And where Macbeth had only stumbled a bit, the woman was knocked over by the obstacle in her way; landing on her butt with an ungraceful squeak.

„Oh my... I am deeply sorry, Miss. I didn't notice you.“ Macbeth was quick to offer her his hand as she struggled to get back on her feet. „It's alright, ouch... Guess i was a tad distracted. My apologies, Mister.“ She allowed him to help her up while she rubbed her bum with one hand in an attempt to soothe the pain that was shooting up her spine. She bent down again to get the handbag she had dropped, but Macbeth -ever the gentleman- quickly picked it up for her.

„Here. Are you sure you are alright, Milady?“ Finally, the girl looked at him with a pained smile when something in her face caught his attention. Her eyes, to be precise.

They were very pretty, vibrant green and almond shaped. He quickly took in appearance: very pale skin, dark brown, curly hair and an overall slender frame with some curves on her hips and chest. Somehow, this girl looked unsettling familiar to him. As if he had seen her before. He couldn't tear his gaze from her's.

„Is everything alright, Sir?“ she cocked her head at his strange behaviour. „Oh, uh yes. Of course. Again, i am very sorry for the inconvienience. Have a nice day.“ He handed her the bag he still held in his hand before leaving in a hurry, embarassed he got caught staring at her so rudely.

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„Maza, i need you to work with a special agent of the FBI.“

Elisa felt her face drop as she sat across Lt. Chavez. „But Lt. Chavez, shouldn't i stay in the nightshift to check on the gargoyle sightings?“

„I never said you will switch to dayshift. This FBI Agent is investigateing the murder case in the Eyrie building and specifically requested your assistance.“ A knock echoed over from the door and Maria Chavez barked a loud 'ENTER!'

While Elisa expected an old guy in a suit, she was more than surprised as a young woman stepped into the office: chin length black hair contrasted her tan skin along with dark brown eyes. A large white blotch spread across her eyes and around her lips; the skin there devoid of any pigment .She was clad in comfortable jeans and a breezy blouse with a pair of converse chucks, all in black. „Hello there, Detective Maza.“ The woman chuckled and arched one brow.

„Oh my God.“ Was all Elisa managed to stutter as she looked at her old dorm neighbour.

„So Leah, how've you been?“ They patrolled the streets in Elisa`s red classic car while Agent Leah Tahanet flipped through a thick folder. „Oh, you know me, Elisa. I pull through somehow.“ Elisa shifted a gear up as they drove towards the Erie Building. „After i joined the FBI, i became part of a specialised unit and so on. But i think your life has been far more interesting than mine recently.“ She shot Elisa one of her trademark grins with an arched brow. „You could say so.“ she said. Man, if you only knew...

„Now, before we head out for this shift, i need to have an urgent talk with your friends in the Manhattan Clan.“ Elisa barely managed to make an emergency brake as she ran over a red light and almost crashed into the side of a truck. „Fuckin' hell, Elisa! Watch the road will you?!“ Leah spluttered after getting flunged back into her seat by the safety belt. „You still drive as reckless as you did back in Arizona!“

„How... how do you know about them?“ Elisa croaked out as she steered into the car park of the Eyrie Building, albeit with a heavy tremor in her limbs. But Leah seemed totally unfazed and resumed to highlight some lines in the folder she had now laid out in her lap with a textmarker. „Please. It's your worst kept secret. I am having an eye on you and the clan since Xanatos has brought them over from Scotland. Don't worry, i'm quite familiar with Gargoyles as a species. My partner and i used to work with some of them during a job in Romania.“ She put the cap back on the bright marker and roughly shoved it back into the leather bag she was carrying along with the folder before stumbleing out of the car after Elisa had pulled into a free parking lot.

„Just how much does the FBI know about the Gargoyles?“ Elisa asked as they stood in the elevator. Leah was just as she had been back in Flagstaff: nerdy, permanently exhausted and some kind of a daydreamer. Just like Elisa had got to know and like her. The two used to be best friends, and probably still were, but their friendship had stagnated after she had moved back to New York and Leah started to work in Quantico.

„Not that much.“ She shrugged and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. „The big guys know they exist, but that's it. My unit doesn't respond to the official leaders. We are specifically for the investigation and management of... unusual creatures and phenomenons.“

„Like Gargoyles?“ Elisa quirked a brow at her friend. The elevator halted and the doors opened with a little 'pling'. „Gargoyles, ghosts, aliens... you name it. Basically everything not fitting into humanities normality. We tend to crimes commited by or against these creatures and also ensure they stay hidden from the public. Until the incident at Saint Damiens Cathedral. Thanks again for making my job a whole lot more difficult.“ Leah said with a bright smile and Elisa responded with a roll of her eyes.

They walked through the stone hallway of Wyvern Castle in comfortable silence until they reached the main hall. Two man approached them as they entered; one with dark hair bound into a neat ponytail, the other with pale blonde hair and glasses.

„Good evening, Detective Maza. And you have brought a friend?“ Leah reached into the backpocket of her jeans and pulled out her badge. „Special Agent Leah Tahanet. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Xanatos. We have spoken on the phone yesterday.“ David Xanaots reached out to grasp her offered hand and gave it a little shake. „So you knew she was coming this whole day?“ Elisa asked, arms crossed over her chest in displeasure. „Of course. I thought she had notified you?“ Leah shrugged and shot them a bright smile. „I wanted to surprise you, Elisa.“

„No you didn't.“ She grumbled as they climbed up the main tower. „You simply forgot to call me.“ Orange and red painted the sky as the two women overlooked the city, the sun quickly setting. „Guilty as charged.“ Elisa let out a huff. Figures. Even back in the day, Leah had a terrible memory and posessed the tendency to give others a heart attack now and then.

It was only a matter of minutes until the sky was completely dark and they heard the tell-tale cracking noise as the gargoyles slowly came to live. The huge figure before them started to move, shed the thick stone skin and let out a loud roar as it fully awakened. „I never get tired of this sight.“ Elisa tore her eyes from Goliath's muscled back as she looked at her friend. A small smile graced Leah's lips as she watched the gargoyles roar and stretch their limbs, unfazed by the big and small shards of stone flying towards her. „Even back in Europe, they were quite the sight to behold.“

„Elisa, what a pleasant-“ Goliath greeted her until he noticed the unfamiliar woman next to her. „A friend of yours?“ He climbed down the merlot and mustered the stranger before him. „Indeed. Goliath, this is Leah. We studied together at Flagstaff. Leah, Goliath.“

„It is a real pleasure to meet you, Goliath.“ She shot the giant gargoyle before her a bright smile and offered him her hand. A bit surprised by her openess, Goliath returned her smile with one of his own before shaking her hand.

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„So you are a cop? Like Elisa?“ Nashville asked. He had peppered their visitor with questions after she introduced herself and was now constantly at her side while Leah inserted a floppy disc into a laptop provided by Xanatos. „Jup. But now i work with the FBI.“ She handed him a cable. „Be a dear and plug it in the projector over there, will you?“

„Your friend is quite familiar with our kind.“ Hudson watched how Leah interacted with Nashville, occaisonally laughing at one of his jokes. „Yeah, she told me she had met gargoyles during a investigation in europe.“

„Hmm... is she to be trusted?“ Katana asked with a heavy accent as she watched her son banter with their guest. „I'll bet my pension on it.“ Elisa stated without hesitation. She didn't really know why, but something in her gut told her to do so.

It took a bit of finangling and help from Lexington to finally set up everything Elisa's friend needed for her presentation. Goliath noticed how fearless the young woman was, she didn't even flinch as she first saw the clan and even got on eye-level with Bronx and Fu to give them some chin-scratches and receive some slobbery licks of her cheeks in return. Now she was chatting avidly with Angela while the whole clan situated in the main hall.

„So, is everyone present? Wonderful!“ the young woman clapped in delight before introduceing herself officially. „I am Special Agent Leah Tahanet. And i am here because i need your help.“ She turned off the light with a button press on a remote, then started the projector. „The corpse of a security guard was found in one of the building's lesser frequented corridors.“ She wrapped one arm around Nashville's face, who was still standing next to her, covering his eyes as she showed them a gory picture.

The body of a man laid at the end of a dead end, a giant wound on his neck, nearly decapitated with his guts spilling out of his sliced up belly. Blood was smeared and splattered all over the wall and floor, but Goliath immediately noticed something was off: the scene before him was bloody, yes. But by far not bloody enough for such a devastating injury. The puddle under the victim should be far bigger.

„Everyone got a good look? Splendid.“ Leah skipped the picture and released the trashing gargoyle in her grip. Visible disappointment was plastered on Nashville's face as he looked at a rather boring picture now depicting the coroner's report. „Oh man! I wanted to see the body!“

„Too late, haha. Sorry, no crime scene photos for kids. Now, back to topic: during the autopsy it became evident that the wound on the victim's neck was the cause of death. It was inflicted with at least four very sharp tools, cutting into the aorta simultaniously from both sides and causing a massive hemmorhage.“

„Four tools? How does one perpertretor use four tools at once?“ Elisa asked with a frown.

„And what about the blood?“ Leah pinned her eyes on Brooklyn. „I mean, if that guy got his throat slashed, shouldn't there be far more blood on the crime scene?“

„Yes, interesting! Very, very interesting! And quite a good question, too. There was less than a half litre of blood left in the body and the amount on scene was approximately one litre. Considering his body weight this man had about six litres of blood in his body. Wich makes one wonder: what happened to the remaining four and a half litres? A simple explanation would be that the murderer took it with him.“

Goliath exchanged views with Hudson and Brooklyn. They had known a man had died in the Building, but not the entire circumstances. „Sounds like a total psycho.“ Broadway exclaimed with a shudder.

„One might think so. But as we took a good look at the body, i noticed a similarity betwee a case from 1920 in Dawson, Canada. A quick comparison with the prints taken from the victims there and this case confirmed our suspitions. They were similar, but not the same. So, i come to the conclusion that the culprit is either a rogue gargoyle with a lust for human blood or a vampire.“

Elisa couldn't help the snort that escaped her, earning her a wounded look from her friend. The gargoyles also seemed to be a bit puzzled, except for Hudson; who started to brush over his beard and seemed deep in thought. „What is a vampire?“ Nashville asked his father in a half whisper. „A being that feeds on the blood of humans.“

„No offence Leah, but that sounds quite ridiculous.“ Elisa shook her head with a chuckle. „You came all this way from Quantico, gather us here only to tell us that Dracula killed this man?“ Leah's frown deepened and her face was contorted with anger. „Apparently yes. I mean, are you still lecturing me about the existence of vampires when you stand here with in a clan of real, breathing gargoyles?“

„You can't compare gargoyles to vampires.“ „And why not?“ „Beause gargoyles are, obviously, real!“ Elisa snapped at her friend a bit harsher than she intended. Leah had always been a bit of an oddball, believing in conspiracy theories, old myths and so on. But that she would resort to use her influence as an FBI Agent to get near the gargoyles... Worse, drag them all into her mess when they had so much on their own plate with the Quarryman and what else was really the pinnacle of her bullshit. The two women continued to shoot daggers at each other when a calm voice broke the thick tension.

„And what is it that you need our assistance for?“ All eyes settled on Hudson who still raked his claws through his beard, steely gaze resting on Leah. Her mood seemed to lighten immediately now that someone seemed to genuinely believe her and she clicked through a few more pictures.

„What i need from you is basically to keep both eyes open and let me know if you notice anything that could lead us to our wayward bloodsucker.“

„Why don't you just search with the police?“ Broadway asked.

„Because for one, you are creatures of the night. The vampires are creatures of the night. You have a better start with them than we humans do. Second, it is a bit of an overkill to mobilize all police force in New York to look out for a single vampire who has killed the first human since the founding of the city. Besides, we don't know how many vampires still exist. If it gets killed, it could easily be the last of it's kind. And if it is another gargoyle, well, then you guys have home advantage.“

A flicker of hope shone in her eyes as she flicked the lights back on. „So you will help me?“ Hudson exchanged views with Goliath who let out a heavy sigh before nodding.

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Alienor strolled through the empty corridors of the Cloister; light steps echoing off the stone walls. Her gait had long returned to normal, it was no longer as stiff as it was this morning. Getting send on her ass by that guy near the museum had broken her tailbone and heavily bruised her backside. Thankfully, the security guard at Xanatos Enterprises was far more interested in jerking off in a lonely corridor than to stay at his post.

It was an easy kill, not even worth of calling it a hunt, but the fresh blood had quickly healed her wounds and improved her mood.

A pair of glowing eyes followed her movements until she stopped in the chapel, the moonlight falling through the stained glass window painting her skin with colourful streaks. She took a moment to take in the artsy window above her, when suddenly a figure dropped from the celing beam.

A large gargoyle stood behind her, stretching his wings, steely glowing eyes pinned onto the woman before him. „Did you find what you came looking for?“ he asked with a stern voice.

„I did. But it seems my discovery leaves me with even more questions.“ Her gaze was still settled on the full moon glittering behind the window.

„That is not unusual. But i still ask you to let us return home.“ She finally looked at the creature behind her. His skin was coloured in a dull tan and a wild mane of creamy white hair cascaded down his back. A large beak adorned his face and two horns sprouted from his head. The blue tunic he wore rustled as he flexed his shoulder.

„What seems to be the issue, Vitani? Do you not like this new, modern world?“

„No.“ Vitani answered without hesitation. „It is loud and dirty. I prefer our own domain. Where the air is pure and the sky clear.“ Allie smiled fondly at him.

„Don't worry my friend. We shall return soon. Besides, i need to see if my brothers have not killed each other in our absence.“

The heavy door of the chapel creaked as it was opened, and a nightguard peeked his head in. „Hello? Is someone there? Excuse me, but the Museum is already closed.“ The light of his flashlight shone on the ghostly pale woman and the gargoyle in the room, causing him to let out a loud gasp and run for his life.

Vitani turned at Allie with a furious look, who seemed to be unfazed by the sudden interruption. „Did you allow to get followed?!“ „Of course not.“ She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a datastick. Inspecting it for a moment, she twirled it in her fingers as she said: „I brought you a little midnight snack.“

The gargoyle let out a pleased growl and grinned as he went down on all fours, pursuing the unlucky human who would end up as his meal.

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Snow was pounding against the glass windows of the old castle inesscantly, accompanied by the howling wind.

Ansar sat on one of the large tables within the library as the storm raged on, scratching out and scribbling over a list he wrote. He liked his lists. They helped him keep track of everything he was doing and he couldn't care less about his sibling's teasing when he was able to outsmart his own scatterbrain this way.

Besides, their sister was about to return soon.

He didn't know for certail, but something in his gut told him that Alienor's visit to the human world had ended. Finally. The hatching season inched closer and closer, and Aodh really got on his nerves. His older brother knew exactly when the young gargoyles in the rookery of his castle would hatch, and just like every fourty years, he failed to prepare enough for the upcoming winter. And now he relied on his younger brother to recalculate and redirect; so that his granaries were full and none of the clan had to starve.

But this time, Ansar was not too happy about the situation.

Aodh seemed to have made a mistake in the ration's calculations he had given him and now, Ansar had to recount and reschedule so that his brother's clan had enough food for the harshest time of the year. The whole thing was going far too slow for Aodh's taste and for the majority of their sister's absence, he was quick to let his displeasure loudly known.

„Where is he?!“ a loud voice hollered from the hallway through the closed doors and Ansar rolled his eyes.

Damnation. Not even in the bloody library he could be alone with his thoughts for a few hours. The two gargoyles sitting next to him startled and jumped onto their chair's backrest and the table as the door crashed open.

Aodh stomped into the room, his face a mask of raw fury. While the gargoyles where quick to get out of his way, his little brother seemed unfazed by his nasty mood. Ansar continued to write on the pergament and didn't even spare him once glance.

„Did you sort this matter out?“ Aodh barked at him and snatched the list his brother was writing; causing him to smear a long stripe of ink with his quill.

„As i told you, this will take time. I would have been done by now if you wouldn't have made a mistake in your calculations.“ he calmly answered and wiped some splattered ink from his documents with a spare cloth.

Lips pulled back in a display of outmost aggression, Aodh's pearly-white dentistry glimmered in the chandelier's light as he snarled „I made no mistake.“

„Oh, but you sure did, brother.“ Ansar emphasized the word as he stood up and cocked his head with a mocking grin. „You will fix this immediately, Ansar. I want my granaries filled by the end of the day.“ Aodh growled and jammed his finger into his brother's chest.

More than just pissed off by now, Ansar reacted on pure reflex as he whacked the offending hand away and Aodh was quick to answer this disobedience with a hard backhand delivered to his sibling's face. The two gargoyles each let out a little wail at the sight and loud 'slap' as flesh collided with flesh and Ansar's head jerked to the side. As he looked back up, they could see the deep red bruise wich bloomed on the younger one's cheek and socket of his eye; his left face rapidly turning black and purple. Aodh was by far the physically strongest of the three siblings, but sometimes he failed to consider his own strength.

„Please Milords, please. There is no need for violence.“ One of the gargoyles tried to disperse the thick cloud of tension. She fiddled a bit with her claws, a futile attempt to hide how close she was to loosing her nerves. „I am sure Lady Alienor will see that the matter is sorted out once she returns from her travel.“

That got the older brother moving. He was still growling low in his throat, but Ansar could see the thoughts racing behind his eyes.

If Alienor got word about what happened here... that he had laid a hand on his little brother, the one he had sworn to protect... Serious repercussions would definitely be in line once their sister returned home.

Chapter Text

„A what?!“ Macbeth looked at the two gargoyles with astoundment.

They stood in the immortal king's library, following Broadway's suggestion to ask Macbeth for help. 'He's nearly a thousand years old. Bet he did entcounter a bunch of supernatural creatures. And if a vampire wasn't among them, maybe he has a book about it.' That sounded logical enough to Goliath to give it a try, altough he had felt a little stupid as he had explained the whole situation.

„A vampire. Big fangs, sucks blood, not a fan of garlic.“ Brooklyn jested.

„I know what a vampire is!“ Macbeth waved is hand dismissively. „And that garlic-thing is not true, not in the slightest!“

Brooklyn looked at Goliath, who was equally flabbergasted. „Whait a minute. Are you saying that you have seen a vampire before?“

The old scotsman let out a hearty laugh. „Seen? You mean i got bitten!“

„Uhhh...but wouldn't you be a vampire yourself then?“ The one eyed gargoyle asked. „No.“ Macbeth beckoned them to follow him and led them through the library and into an adjacent room. It was rather small and an assorted collection of books laid on display in a glas cabinet. „The curse of vampirism is not transmitted by bite. That would be far too simple.“ He typed a code into a small keypad and the cabinet unlocked with a 'click'. Hand hovering over the books for a second, he settled on a very dark one with a leather cover.

It had to be the nastiest book Goliath had ever seen: it had been bound together with sinews, the leather made up by various patches of skin and he could make out the shape of an eyelid and a bellybutton on a few of them. Flipping through the thin pages, Macbeth searched for a certain chapter, then tapped his finger on it as he found it.

„There. Vampyres and how to repell them.“ He started to read aloud while the two gargoyles looked over his shoulders. „A Vampyre describes a being cursed with a thirst for blood, immortality and sterility. Hmmm, let's see... aha, there we have it: How to distinct a Vampyre from manfolk.“ A monstrous bat-like creature was painted with ink on the worn out paper, next to the anatomy chart of a human. „The most obvious traits of a vampyre are theyr claws and fangs. Only the youngest ones are harmed by the rays of the sun, and every vampyre shows a deadly weakness to water.“

„Water?“ Goliath asked.

„Yes. It burns them like acid.“ Macbeth waved his hand as if it was burned to accentuate his claim before he continued. „The curse of vampyrism is, contrary to folklore, not passed through a mere bite, but is an act of the most darkest and vile magic known to this world. If one survives a vampyre attack, the wound has to be treated with a mixture of honey, ribwort essence, crushed elderberrys and powdered silver or the wounded won't survive. That is very true.“ He said as he closed the book with a clap and handed it to Goliath.

„Here. I think there's no harm in lending it out to you for a bit.“

„Thank you. And you really got bitten by one of them?“

Macbeth unbuttoned the upper half of his shirt and pulled it to the side, exposing his left shoulder at them. „Do you see the thin white line here? With the two bigger dots on each end?“ He pointed at a pale scar on the junction of his shoulder and neck, usually covered by clothing. „A vampire bit me back in Heidelberg, Germany in 1730. The bigger stab-like scars are from it's fangs, the smaller row from the front teeth and those-“ he pointed on some nasty stray cuts „-are from the molars. Thanks to the Weird Sister's spell, no wound ever inflicted on my body leaves a scar. Except for this one. It took nearly two hundred years to fully heal, and i can still feel the change of weather in it.“

„Faszinating. So you think a vampire could really be the culprit of this murder?“ Goliath asked as Macbeth rebuttoned his shirt. „It sure is a possibility.“

„Damn, Leah will trow a fit if she hears about this.“ Brooklyn grinned. „Do you have any plans for the next few nights, Macbeth?“

„Huh?“

„I mean-“ Brooklyn threw a glance at the book in Goliath's hands. „-if you have no urgent matters to attend, maybe you would like to join our search. Your knowledge and skill would be of great help.“

„Brooklyn is right.“ Goliath said and laid a hand on his second's shoulder. „If this creature really exists and is loose in the city, we need every bit of help to catch it before it can harm anyone more.“

Macbeth laid one hand on his chin, pondering about the proposition for a few moments.

„I am not an expert by any means. But if the claims of this agent are true and there is a vampire here in New York, maybe it really would be of good use if i assist you.“

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Chapter Text

„But sister, i-“ Aodh's explanation was cut off by a powerful blow, sending him straight into one of the many shelves on the wall. Books, small statues and priceless china figurines fell out of it and smashed to pieces on the stone floor. „Please Alienor, we didn't mean to-“ a hard punch to his gut cut Ansar off and made him retch on the floor, spewing a gush of half digested blood and bile onto the tiles and crimson carpets.

How dare they? How dare these two morons fight over trivial matters when they had more urgent matters to tend to? When they were so close, after all these centuries....

Oh yes, how Alienor would love to tear each of these two a new one. But she didn't have time for that right now. She was already late anyways.

The catacombs where by far the most unpleasant place in the castle for the vampires. It was cold and drafty, water dropped from the ceiling, forming various stalactites and stalagmites, let moss and algae grow on the surface of the stoney tunnel.

Alienor hurried as much as she could without slipping or stepping into a puddle. She still wore her travelling cloak and had the hood pulled deeply into her face to protect herself from the permanent drops of water; only pulled it back after she reached a large stone door. The skin on her hand burned with a hiss as she pressed down the damp handle, no longer bothering to protect herself as excitement rose.

Hatching season was nothing new. It happened every fourty years. And every fourty years she was as excited as for the first time. The spring equinox was far away, but someone seemed to couldn't wait any longer.

„Thank you for notifying me, my friend.“ Alienor said as she dropped to her knees next the shallow pit holding a large clutch of gargoyle eggs. A very old female gargoyle stood next to her while two of her elder rookery-daughters tended to some of the eggs on the far side.

„Of course, Milady. Altough i'm sorry the hatching of this one comes with such great inconvienence.“ Alienor shook her head at the old matron. „A surprise, yes. But inconvienence? Never.“

She bend down on all fours and leaned on her forearms to get a good look at the egg infront of her: indistingushable from the others, whitish grey with large purple dots. The only difference was a thin net of cracks as the babe inside tried to break out of it's shell, almost half a year early.

„A premature hatchling...“ the old gargoyle shook her head. „The last time this happened was when? Six generation ago?“

„Seven.“ Alienor muttered as she observed how one of the bigger cracks continued to spread. „Let's just hope this little one is developed enough.“

A loud 'CRACK!' echoed through the rookery and a large shard of eggshell flew towards the vampiress, narrowly missing her face. This could not be said about the splash of goo that followed and landed on her chin and mouth. „Blegh!“ Alienor spluttered and spit out to the side, wincing at the disgusting taste and ghastly texture as she continued to observe how the hatchling fought it's way into live.

With almost unbearable anticipation, Alienor watched as the egg finally broke open to the side, toopled over and a slimy little bundle slid out of it. The old matron and her daughters quickly hurried to their mistress' side to observe and check if anything was amiss with the babe. The little gargoyle groggily tried to lift it's head, woken up by the gentle motion as Alienor used her sleeve to rub some goo away from it's face.

„Hello there. Oh my stars, aren't you a precious little one?“ a wide grin was plastered on Allie's face as the hatchling started to blink it's eyes at her. They were light blue, contrasting nicely to it's sandy skin and creamy white hair. Tufts of equally white fur sprouted on it's legs and tail as well as smaller ones on the tip of each ear, like a lynx. The hatchling slowly noticed it's surroundings as it tried to make out it's enviorement. A violent shiver wracked the frail body as it let out a adorable sneeze, and Alienor was quick to pick it up and wrap it in her cloak.

„What is it?“ one of the younger females asked and the old matron checked the hatchling's gender without much fanfare. „It's a boy. Write it down in the birth register, will you?“ Her rookery-daughter nodded and trotted away.

„Milady, if the time does not allow it, you don't need to be present at every hatching.“ The matron muttered, but her mistress just shook her head.

„It is my greatest joy to observe the hatching of your children. Every single time.“ She gently brushed some clammy hair away from the baby's eyes and tucked it deeper into her wooly coat. „I have been present during the hatching of every single gargoyle born under my protection and as long as i can, i will be present at the birth of every generation to come.“ The old gargoyle fondly smiled at the vampiress next to her, as well as her daughters did.

Yes, as long as Alienor was watching over their clan, none of them had a thing to fear.

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„Well, i would rather have suggested Demona as a culprit.“ Elisa stated as Leah and she studied the case file strewn out on the table in Elisa's appartment. Both women were each nursing on a cup of coffee and deep circles hung under their eyes after nearly two weeks of late night investigation.

„Sorry to disappoint you, Elisa. But after reading the final coroner's report we can definetely rule out a rogue gargoyle.“ Leah took a deep sip of her almost cold coffee. „Besides, you said that this 'Demona' turns into a human during the day rather than stone. And the murder definetely happened during daytime. A human female would be unable to tear such horrific wounds with her teeth and nails alone.“

„Hmm, i still wouldn't totally settle on the vampire-theory. It could also have been a mutant or-“

„You rather follow a false trail instead of admitting that i was right and vampires are most likely real?“ Leah asked with a smug grin. Elisa fought down the urge to snap at her when first a knock on her balcony door startled them, followed a second later by the doorbell.

„I'll get it!“ Leah hopped off her chair and opened the door while Elisa took care of the balcony. „Ask who it is first! Man, just like back in college...“ She muttered as she pulled back the curtain and was greeted by Goliath, Angela and Hudson. „I hope you made more progress than we did.“ She asked as the gargoyles climbed into her apartment. „You could say so, yes.“ Goliath answered.

„Aye, seems like Macbeth has some knowledge about this vampiric beast and has offered his help in the matter.“ Hudson said and overflew the many notes, reports and photos on the table. „And Macbeth is-“ „He seemed more comfortable in taking the stairs.“ Angela smiled, but Elisa inwardly cringed as she realized that the once-enemy of the clan would meet Leah without a proper introduction. Or warning.

„Good evening Madam. I assume you must be Leah, Detective Maza's friend.“ Macbeth's voice echoed over from the hallway and Leah let out a giggle. „Aren't you a charmer? Name's Leah Tahanet. Please, come in.

„So you too think that it really could have been a vampire?“ Leah asked Macbeth around a mouthful of candy as he studied the testimony of a whitness. „It is a possibility, yes.“ Leah plopped down in her chair and rested one leg on a free corner of the table; much to Elisa's chagrin. „Elisa told me you have been alive a long time.“ Macbeth let out a huff „'a long time' is almost an understatement.“

Goliath and Elisa had retreated to the kitchen to have a talk in private, Angela was reading the final coroner's report with unabashed disgust written all over her face and Hudson was seated in Elisa's armchair, watching the banter between Macbeth and Leah with mild amusement as he enjoyed a can of soda.

„Ever met a vampire?“

„Indeed. Even got bitten by one. Thank you.“ Macbeth said as he took a piece of candy from the bag Leah offered him. „Like, for real?“ He nodded and pointed at the spot between his shoulder and neck. „Right there.“

„Shut up! Show me your scar!“ Leah exclaimed with delight and Macbeth was surprised for a moment before he chuckled at her enthusiasm. „Sorry Milady, but it's hidden under my shirt.“

„Then take it off.“

Macbeth looked at her with wide eyes, speechless for a second; while Elisa -who had overheard the whole conversation with one ear- let out a loud screetch.

„OH MY GOD! LEAH!“ she yelled as she stormed out of the kitchen and grabbed her friends arm. „What? I was just curious and -ouch!- quit tugging at me, you lunatic!“ Leah nagged as Elisa shoved her towards the door, handing her the keys of her car as they passed the hall-stand. „Go. Get the car. I'll be down in a minute.“ And without waiting for another word, she slammed the door shut infront of her face.

„I am so very sorry, Macbeth.“ Elisa said and shame almost dripped from her voice. The old scotsman just chuckled and waved a hand in dissmissal. „No worries, detective. I have been harassed far worse in the past.“ Loud clapping noises could be heard from the armchair, where Angela was busy slapping on Hudson's back who nearly choked on his drink out of laughter.

Chapter Text

Castle Moray, Scotland, 1057 A.D. Weeks before the attack of the English

It was a warm and pleasant summer night as Luach stepped out of the tavern, a light sway in his gait as he walked towards his horse. He struggled a bit to get his foot into the stirrup and nearly toppled over on the other side as he heaved himself into the saddle.

„Sheesh, Luach! Looks like your highness had one Ale too many!“ a cheerful voice called from the roof, followed by a large figure landing next to the prince's horse.

It was a large gargoyle with dull tan skin and a wild mane of white hair. His amused gaze settled on the human who brushed back some of his unruly, long curls. Luach only scunched his nose at him before he took a steading breath in a attempt to calm his upset stomach.

„How come you are not drunk? You had more Ale than i did!“

The gargoyle shrugged with a grin. „Maybe because i'm not only a gargoyle, but also older and know how to handle my drinking.“

Luach let out an annoyed snort and shook his head while the tan gargoyle hopped behind him onto his horse's hindquarters. He settled an inch behind the saddle onto the animal's muscular croup, back to back with the prince. „Good boy“ he muttered as he patted the soft fur as a small praise for tolerating this unelegant way of locomotion. The odd company settled into a comfortable silence as the stallion trotted over the desolated road, only interrupted by Luach's occasional grumbles.

„Bloody pope... bloody nobles.... bloody tradition...“

The truce between the gargoyles and the clan of Moray had proven to be more than fruitiful. Both races thrived under King Macbeth's rule and for the first time in many years, the gargoyles came to have some stability. The peasants had mostly given up on their stereotypes and enjoyed the new safety the gargoyles provided them with. With the clan patrolling the hills and streets, a young maiden could now walk completey naked, carrying a basket full of gold through the night and no one would dare to lay a hand on her.

While Demona didn't trust the humans completely, as did some others, it was her worst kept secret how fond she actually was of the King and his heir. And Luach was more than just a friend to them. He regarded the gargoyles as part of his family, having basically grown up with the clan.

And so, a deep brotherly affection had grown between him and the gargoyle now sitting on his horse.

„If you would share your troubles with me, i might be able to offer you some advice, my friend.“

„You know my troubles, brother.“ the young prince huffed.

„Is it the betrothement situation?“

„Aye. The betrothement situation.“

Figures. Ever since his parents had returned from their visit of the pope, they seemed adamant that their son was way past his time in regard of marriage. The constant rumors of the court didn't really help, and now the queen was bickering with her husband regulary; demanding that they should find a suitable wife for their son while they both were still around.

„How about you simply have a talk with the king and queen? Her Majesty, of all people, should know how it is to be captured in a arranged marriage.“

Luach shook his head. „You think i haven't tried? My father wants to listen, but mother seems to have already decided.“ He shuddered a bit before he continued. „ She want's to bethrothe me to Lady Christina.“

The gargoyle turned around and looked at the prince with a deep frown. „Lady Christina? She's like, how old? Fourteen?“

„Sixteen. I mean, have you seen her? She looks like a brewery horse and has the manners of a drunkard.“

„Then you two should be a perfect match!“ his friend jested, but Luach ignored him.

„I'm serious, brother. Right now, my father tries to dissuade her, but mother seems adamant in pulling this through. And it is of no advance to me that i do not have a suitable woman to present as my future queen.“

„But you could present them a woman. A very charming, very beautiful one.“

„Indeed. But all of Ellisif's charm and beauty are worth nothing due to her lack of royal blood.“ Luach said and defeat was heavy in his voice. „Can i share a secret with you, brother?“

„Anytime.“

Luach looked around them to ensure there where no nightguards or anyone else to overhear their conversation, before he muttered: „Ellisif is pregnant.“

The horse let out a loud neigh as the gargoyle's claws pricked the skin of it's croup and made a few gallopping jumps before it calmed down.

„Hoo, hoo my boy. It's alright. Sorry 'bout that.“ 'Brother' gently patted the area of skin he had scratched before he jumped off the steed and pulled his friend out of the saddle. „You are jesting, right? This is but one of your drunken shenanigans, is it not?“ he gently shook Luach at his shoulders, but the latter only stared to the side of the road.

„It is not“ a few tears pricked in the young man's eyes as he wound himself out of the gargoyle's grip and sat down on a stray boulder at the roadside.

„What am i supposed to do, brother? Time is racing against us.“ 'Brother' sat down next to his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder, a futile attempt to comfort him.

„Well, you could just marry Lady Christina. It is not uncommon for kings to have a mistress beside their wife.“

„But i don't want her to be my mistress!“ Luach answered angrily. „I want to wed her, for her to be my wife so that we stay together even in death!“ He raked his fingers through his hair and pulled at the tresses in distress. „I want our children to grow up in the castle, so that they know their grandfather and grandmother. I don't want them to live in some barn as bastards, ostracized by society.“

The gargoyle looked at the sobbing prince with great sadness.

Ellisif and Luach had first met as young children, back when Duncan was still king. Luach and his cousin Malcom Canmore had posessed the habit of escaping their guards while roaming the hills and had stumbled upon the feisty girl as she was collecting firewood. They had met on numerous occasions, and as time passed, both Luach and Ellisif had fallen deeply in love with each other. The only thing keeping him from talking about her to his father and mother was the fact that she was a mere peasant and not of royal blood.

This was one of the reasons 'brother' was thankful for the way his kind raised their young. He never understood why humans chose to cast out members of their society simply due to the fact that ones parents were not wed.

„Hmm. The only other solution would be telling your parents, so that they hopefully give their blessing to this union.“

Luach only shook his head and continued to stare holes into the ground below him.

„Please my friend. If you can not speak to your mother, then do so to your father, so that he may place them under his royal protection. I urge you to do it. For the sake of the mother and her child.“

Chapter Text

„See Detective? There it is.“ Xanatos pointed on the screen wich displayed a diagramm of a energy spike in Manhattan. „This high erruption of energy took place about twenty minutes ago in the Metropolitan Museum of Arts. In comparison with the energy emitted by Oberon a year ago it is equally powerful, but not quite identical. I thought you might want to check on that.“

Elisa pondered for a second as she looked at the diagram. Whatever it was, it had to be magical and was possibly very dangerous. Better have the gargoyles check it out before someone took hold of something he or she should not posess. The possibility of a magical artifact at least as powerful as Oberon in the hands of Demona or the Quarrymen made terrible unease bubble up in her stomach.

„Is it wise to let the gargoyles get hold of a potenionally never ending source of energy?“ Owen asked as they observed via surveillance cameras how Detective Maza briefed the gargoyles on their target.

„Whatever it is, if it's as powerful as Oberon we could be done for if we make a mistake. I rather let Goliath handle this matter. Besides, i am sure we get some information however this all plays out.“

-----------------------------

The high amount of magic in this place was undeniable.

Demona sat perched on one of the Met's skylight beams, surveying the exhibition below. She knew well in wich era of time the priceless pieces belonged. After all, she had lived through it. Or better: survived it. Other than her clan...

No. No time for reminiscing. Jerking her head, she carefully short-circuited the alarm system before climbing down into the building. Never had Demona felt anything like this: it was no magic of the third race, nor from the humans. It was dark, intimidating. Like a thick shroud of darkness, lurking in the shadows like a predator. She simply had to have it. Whatever it was.

Quickly hiding behind a statue to evade a nightguard on patrol, she heard him mutter „man, what's with this air? It's freezing in here!“ before she entered a exhibition displaying valuable pieces of human craftiness.

The History of Horology

was written on a huge banner over the door.

Clocks in every size and form laid on silken cushions in glass cabinets, stood on podiums and a gigantic clock hung from the ceiling. But the heart of the exhibition was a large grandfather clock on the far side of the room. It was decorated with intricate woodcarving, metal inlays of silver and filigrane drawings of the nightsky on the dial. The little stars were made out of small gemstones and a moderat sized diamond made up the north star. Mother of pearl framed with thin lines of silver meant to be the crescent moon.

A beautiful piece. Maybe she should come back once she located this strange magical power. This clock would fit nicely in her personal collection.

Then, when she inched closer into the room, she could feel it. A distinct pull. As if reality itself was pulling at her. This feeling was so strange, unlike anything she had ever felt. Not even the power of the phoenix-gate was to be compared with it.

Demona felt almost entranced as she approached the clock, when suddenly, she stepped into something wet. As she looked down, she was greeted by her reflection in a large, crimson red puddle. The ceiling light glittered in the liquid and she could make out a small movement on the lightshade over her.

-------------------------------

„She is unbelievable. I mean, how could she say such a thing to a complete stranger?!“ Elisa lamented as she and Goliath wandered throught the desolated corridors of the Met. „I have to ask you: If Leah annoys you so much, why do you still befriend her?“ Elisa let out a heavy sigh.

„Leah and i go way back. She is not always this... strenuous. Deep down she is a good person. When push comes to shove, you can always rely on her.“ She lifted a brow at him. „Why? Do you think she's annoying?“ Goliath gently shook his head. „Quite the opposite. I think she is entertaining to be around. And she has an open mind free of prejudice.“ Elisa shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacked and shivered. „Glad to hear she doesn't kill your last nerve. Brrr... why is it so cold out of a sudden?“

A loud crunching sound echoed through the empty corridor. As both of them looked down and inspected the floor, they noticed a strange white substance on the shiny tiles. Goliath bend down and picked up a handful.

„Is that-?“

„It's snow.“ He frowned and tapped his chin with his free claws. „Snow in September... in a closed building... very odd.“

He gave the air a good sniff, making out the source of the strange phenomenon.

„Come, this way.“

----------------------------------

„Gnash, what do you have in your pockets? It gives off quite a nasty stench.“ Brooklyn muttered as he, Nashville and Lexington checked the Met's Rockefeller wing.

„Just some garlic.“ his son answered and pulled a handful of white gloves out of his pocket. Brooklyn let out a long sigh. „Ok, let me rephrase that: why do you have gloves of garlic in your pockets?“ The teal gargoyle shrugged. „Fox gave it to me. She told me to always have it with me in case i run into the vampire.“

Brooklyn shook his head and ran a hand over his brow and horns. „Seriously? How are we supposed to stay hidden when you smell like an entire gallon of aioli?“

„She did the same with Alex' room.“ Lexington lamented. „I swear, theres garlic everywhere. Even Alex himself smells like it. It's repulsive.“ He shook his head. „Yesterday i heard how she and Xanatos fought because she wanted to purchase 1000 wooden stakes. Her paranoia is getting worse with each day.“

„Well, maybe she should-“

But Brooklyn's sentence was short when the doors infront of them burst open and a figure flew in their direction. He barely managed to grap Nashville's collar and yank him to the side just in time.

A light blue gargoyle with a wild, auburn mane stumbled back on her feet and let out a loud roar, eyes blazing red and her face a mask of fury.

„Demona! What are you-“

But Demona was blind and deaf for anything around her. She only stared into the dark corridor at the end of the hall: for a second, nothing happened. Then they all heard a low growl, a rumble so deep, the sound vibrated even through the walls and floor. Two shiny golden eyes appeared in the dark as the creature crawled on all fours into the dim moonlight falling thorugh the skylights.

It looked like a large and monstrous bat, twize the size of a buffalo. Reddish brown fur adorned the creatures neck and chest, the wings so gigantic it could not spread them even in the wide halls of the Met. Two large ears twitched in various directions as it sniffed the air; eyes never leaving their prey for even a second.

„Jalapena...“ breathed Lexington as their jaws hit the floor while Demona and the beast stared at each other, only for a few seconds, but it felt like hours.

„Run.“ she muttered. The large bat still stood across the hall, eyes pinned on her. Saliva trickled out of it's parted mouth and a deadly set of teeth glittered in the sparse light. Only now, Brooklyn could see that the creature's fur wasn't reddish brown, but dark; the red thick, sticky blood smeared onto it's head and face.

„RUN YOU FOOLS!“

Demona yelled at them and made a run for it. The bat-thing -whatever it was- let out a bloodcurdling scream as it charged at them.

The four gargoyles ran for they lifes. Even with the entire clan: nobody knew what this creature was, and how to defeat it. And their wings were of no use in the confinement of the building.

„Go Gnash! GO!“ Brooklyn yelled at his son, who was quick to find a way to get out of the monster's way. It's large clawed feet nearly missed him and Lexington as it stumbled to a halt; sole attention now focused on the window at the far side of the exhibition hall.

Bright moonlight shone through the glass and rivaled the skyline of Manhattan. It dawned upon Brooklyn what that Thing's primary objective was: whatever it was, from wherever it came, it seemed to seek a way outside this building. He didn't know if it was the culprit regarding the murder in the Eyrie building, but he didn't care. Under no circumstances could they allow that a 12 foot tall, bloodsucking bat roamed free in New York.

„Lex! We cannot allow it to leave the building!“

„Well, if you have an idea, i'm all ears!“ Lexington yelled as he sought cover behind a large statue as the creature spanned out a gigantic wing. It turned at the gargoyles, then made a flapping motion as one would do to shoo away a pesky fly. Even in the confined room the motion was enough to create a current so strong, that it send Brooklyn and Lexington through the whole room. Demona -who tried to escape the commotion via a sky light- was blasted from the wall and hit one of the large pillars with a nasty crunch. Nashville had managed to stay out of the winds reach, now hiding behind a display cabinet next to the beast.

The glass of the window was no obstacle as the bat simply crashed it's large body through the frail glass and climbed up the outside wall of the building.

Chapter Text

The concert was awesome. Bright lights flickering all over the place and the loud screams of the singer filled his ears. He must be on the far side of the lake and observe a gig with his brothers.

A hard slap to his cheek caused Brooklyn to open his eye. No, this was no concert. The singing was actually Elisa's voice as she tried to wake him back into conciousness and the bright light was the flashlight she used to check his pupillary response. Goliath was not far away, lifting a giant statue and then dropped it to the side to free Lex.

„We heard the noise in the other wing. What happened?“ Elisa asked as she helped him sit up.

„Urgh, i don't know. There was Demona and that... that thing...“ Realization hit Brooklyn like a freight train.

„Where's Nashville?“

-----------------------

Nashville followed that thing down to the harbor. He had to admit: that bat possessed some serious stamnia. As soon as it had reached the Met's roof and took off, it had calmed down a great deal. He didn't know it better, but Nashville would bet that it was even relaxed. Large leathery wings outstretched, it glided over the autumn night's soft breeze and took deep whiffs of the fresh, cool air. His own wings were tired and sore, but he didn't think about giving up his pursuit. Someone needed to keep an eye on that thing. Maybe it landed somewhere he could call the others for help.

As if the creature had heard his mental prayers, it headed for a large factory roof. Nashville landed on the building next to it so he could observe without getting spotted. From there, he watched as the large bat went to land, but as it was descending, it's wings caught the airflow emitted from the three large chimneys on the roof. The sudden airy barrier caused it -wings still outstretched- to make a bunch of sommersaults until it went high enough to evade the airflow. The creature seemed fairly surprised, emitting a few chirpy bleats, then descended back to repeat the motion.

Nashville watched with confusion as the bizarre spectacle went on but he soon realized: that thing was playing! It squealed and chirped with every sommersault and suddenly, it didn't look so creepy anymore.

He let out a chuckle as he continued to observe. As long as the creature stayed here and played with flows of air, he could rest for a bit. Surely the others will find them soon enough.

„My my my, what have we here?“ a haughty voice called from the shadows behind him. Whirling around, he nearly stumbled over his own wings as he spotted two humans stepping out of the shadows. Each of them carried a large sledghammer, their faces hidden under masks, matching their black clothing.

„I think Castaway will forgive us for missing tonight's meeting if we bring him the head of this demon.“

Nashville shook from head to toe as he slowly retreated backwards until he his the roof's balustrade. Didn't they notice the gigantic bat before them? But a quick glance over his shoulder showed him that the air over the neighbouring building was empty. Great. Not only did he have two of those fanatic assholes to deal with, but the main target also escaped him.

He tried to make a run for it by jumping off the roof, but one of the Quarrymen was quick to grab his tail and yank him back, then made use of the momentum to fling Nashville into the wall of the building's stairwell.

„Didn't your demon-mom teach you that it's rude to leave without a proper goodbye?“ The masked human sneered as he lifted his sledgehammer at the groggy gargoyle. „Don't worry, it'll be quick.“ Nashville squeezed his eyes shut as he awaited the deadly blow.

But it never came. No hit with the sledgehammer, no shot with a hidden gun or anything. Just a ugly choking noise coming from his attacker.

Opening his eyes, Nashville could see how the sledgehammer of the Quarryman hovered an inch over his head, illuminated by a blueish-green glow. The man was gurgleing, head overstretched towards his back, and only now the young gargoyle noticed a faint spray of red over himself, the ground and the wall behind him. The other Quarryman let out a loud shriek and tightened the grip on his hammer as he saw his comrade's still beating heart lying before his twitching body.

Shock and fear overcame the man as he frantically looked around, trying to make out the attacker.

„Show yourself, demon scum!“ He yelled with a shaky voice. Nothing. For a few agonizing seconds, there was nothing but the Quarryman, his still-standing companion and the young gargoyle before them. Then, suddenly, the faint glow around the dead man's weapon disappeared and his body collapsed on the ground; his hammer narrowly missing Nashville.

„Tsk tsk tsk. Look at you.“ a female voice, smooth as velvet, echoed through their heads. „Proclaiming yourself as the protectors of mankind.“ It was everywhere and nowhere, right inside Nashville's head. As if the darkness of the night itself spoke with him. The Quarryman still tried to make out the source of the voice when suddenly, he dropped his hammer and started clutching at his neck.

„You pathetic mortals. You can't even save yourselves.“ A hand materialized around the man's neck, followed by the rest of his attacker's body.

It was a young woman, dressed in flowing gowns and with shiny long hair. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight, as did her flawless white fangs as she sunk them into the Quarryman's flesh. Nashville watched with wide eyes as the lady bit a large chunk of flesh out of her victim's neck, then latched onto the gaping wound and swallowed the errupting blood with large gulps.

The vampire.

As a matter of last resort, Nashville gripped the dead Quarryman's sledgehammer tightly in an attempt to hurl it at the still-occupied bloodsucker. If he managed to hit her, he could use the distraction to escape.

Unfortunately, he had severly underestimated the vampire's reflexes. He didn't even get a chance to get back on his feet as the same blueish-green energy took hold of the hammer once more. It was yanked out of it's grasp by an unknown force, then flung into the darkness behind him.

„Why do you flee from me, little one? There is no need for you to worry.“

Nashville looked up to see the body of the dead Quarryman lying on the ground, when the vampire's face was less than an inch away from his own. He let out a surprised shriek, shuffleing backwards to get away from her.

„Oh, my apologies. Please, do not fear me.“ The vampire smoothly moved into his way and grasped his wrists, unwilling to let him leave so easily. „Please my friend. I mean you no harm.“ She tried to calm down the panicky gargoyle. Nashville found that this lady was stronger than she looked: while he trashed and fought against the grip on his wrists, the vampire didn't even budge a milimeter. She simply smiled gently at him and waited for Nashville to calm down. Accepting that it was futile to fight, the young gargoyle mustered all his courage and gave conversation a try.

„Would you please let me go?“ he asked with a squeaky voice. A velvety-smooth chuckle vibrated from the vampire's throat.

„Only if you promise me not to flee right away.“ Nashville nodded and squeaked a timid „I promise.“

Much to his surprise, the vampire did actually let go of him and stood back up; smoothing a few crinkles out of her robes. Only now did Nashville get a good look at her:

She was a tad taller than Elisa, and of even slimmer build. Her hair was very long, reaching past her waist, silky black and straight. The robes she wore seemed to be made of silk, midnight blue and decorated with intricate golden embroidery of constellations and stars. Along her black hair it constrasted heavily with her etheral pale skin. A gentle smile curled her equally black lips and her irises glinted golden in the moonlight.

„Who are you?“ Nashville asked as he slowly stood up.

„My name is Berlind.“ answered the vampire and inspected the corpse of the first Quarryman. She pulled a bundle of keys out of the man's pocket, sniffed at them, then hucked it over her shoulder. „And you might be?“

„I am Nashville. But Gnash is fine, too.“ Berlind now tipped through a cellphone found in the backpocket of the dead's pants and apparently it was interesting enought to store it in a pocket; hidden in the folds of her robe. Nashville continued to observe for a few moments, then adressed the elephant in the room.

„Soooo.... why were you raiding the Met?“

„Huh?“ Berlind looked up from the corpse she was now feasting on. Blood was smeared around her lips and all over her cheeks. „The Met. The Metropolitan Museum.“

„Oooh, that. I wasn't.“

„But why-“

„I was merely passing through.“ Shrugging her shoulders, Berlind went on to the second body. Nashville frowned and cocked his head as he dared to step closer.

„Passing through?“

„Indeed. I am... looking for someone. Usually, i am undisturbed, but the red haired female of your clan wasn't too thrilled about my presence.“

Nashville let out a snort. „You mean Demona? Yeah, she's no member of my clan. She's just a traitorous bitch.“ Berlind let out a melodic laugh at his cussing as she apparently finished her search. „My apologies. But now i have a question for you.“ She stemmed her hands onto her hips and bent down into Nashville's face with a wide grin.

„Why did you and your clan attack me?“

„Well, uuuhh...“ The young gargoyle sheepishly scratched his neck. „We thought you are the murderer of the guard in the Eyrie Building.“ Berlind leaned back with a frown. „No, i am afraid that is not my deed. That kill belongs to my siress.“

„Wait a minute. Are you saying: there are more of your kind?“ The vampire let her head hung and a great sadness took over her features. „Barely.“

„Yeah, i know the feel.“ Nashville acted on pure emotion as he laid his hand on Berlind's forearm, a comforting gesture fitting for a child. Thankfully the vampire didn't mind: she simply smiled down at him with sad eyes.

„So you are all alone?“

„In this world? Indeed.“

Nashville's face lit up as an idea crossed his mind. „Hey, if you are all on your own, you should come back with me to my clan's place! Then you can talk with Goliath and the others, maybe we can help you!“

Berlind was smiling gently at the youngling before her.

„That is the best offer i got in a long, long time.“

-----------------------------------

Chapter Text

Goliath, Elisa and the others rushed through the castle's corridors, looking out for the stray youngling. As they were busy searching the Met for any signs of Nashville, Elisa's phone had rung, with Owen on the other side of the line.

„Good evening, Detective Maza. Mr. Xanatos asked me to call you on behalf of your youngest clan member. He has returned to the castle about an hour ago. And he brought a friend.“

Now, Brooklyn nearly ran him over as he stormed into the main hall. „You know where my son is?“ Owen nodded and adjusted his glasses. „Indeed. If you may follow me.“

„I can't believe you let him alone with a stranger.“ Brooklyn grumbled. „There seemed no need to worry. I notified Detective Maza as soon as Nashville returned and his companion didn't pose any threat. Quite the contrary.“

He stopped infront of the door to the small television room Hudson and Bronx usually occupied, then stepped aside. „After you.“

Goliath didn't even get a chance to step into the room as Brooklyn shoved past him and yelled „Where is my son?!“

„Shhhtt! We need to concentrate here!“ The gargyole in question sat on the carpet infront of the TV, next to a young woman. Both were entralled with the colourful pictures before them and hammered onto the buttons of the controller each one held. He didn't really look at his father, only shouted over his shoulder without turning his eyes from the screen. The two seemed to be busy playing a new video game -Mario Kart, that was the name- and didn't take any notice of the commotion around them.

„Just what do you think you are doing?!“ Katana yelled. „Uh, right now we are trashing Lex' highscore on the rainbow road.“ Nashville answered, not even looking at them, sole attention focused on the game before them. Anger bubbled up in his mother's chest who stormed past her mate and ripped the TV cable out of the socket.

„Mom! What was that for? We needed only ten more points to break the highscore!“ Nashville lamented until he finally looked at his mother, then the rest of the clan. „Uhhh, what's the matter, guys?“

„WHAT'S THE MATTER?!“ Brooklyn yelled at his son. „We were worried sick, that's the matter! Your mother and i allow you to join on patrol, and you run off in the midst of a fight without a word, only for us to find you here, playing video games with-.....uhhh-“ He stopped his tirade for a second; only now paying attention to the stranger in the room.

It was a young woman, clad in a silken gown. Her hair was so long, it fell past her back and laid strewn out on the carpet behind her. She was sitting cross-legged next to Nashville and her face was so greyish-pale, it reminded Elisa of a water corpse her collegues and she had pulled out of the lake in central park once. The woman watched the quarrel with an unreadable expression, but her eyes were steely; gaze switching between Elisa and Goliath.

„And who might you be?“ Goliath stepped next to his second's side and laid a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. The woman let out a chuckle before setting down her controller, stood up in a elegant motion and dipped into a respectable small bow.

„Goliath of Clan Wyvern. I am more than honoured to finally meet you again.“

The lavender gargoyle looked at her with bewilderment. „I am sorry Ma'am. But i cannot recall that we ever met.“ She shot him a bright smile and stepped a bit closer. „Oh, but we have. Altough you cannot remember it. And it overjoys me to see how much your clan has grown.“ A deep frown settled on Goliath's face.

„Who are you? How do you know us?“

-------------------------

„Sorry again about earlier. Didn't mean to offend you.“ Leah apologized as she and Macbeth took the elevator up to the top of the Eyrie building.

They had checked upon a strange emergency call Elisa received earlier before Xanatos wanted to have a word with her. Both women agreed that it was better to split their forces and while Elisa and one part of the clan investigated the strange magical erruption at the Met; Leah, Macbeth and the others checked on the mysterious sighting at the Green-Wood Cemetary. The gargoyles went ahead of them when Leah received a call from Elisa about Nashville's absence. It wasn't a real vampire in the end, anyway.

„None taken, Agent.“ Macbeth waved at her „I have been harassed much worse and much more offensive in the past, believe me.“

„Sounds like you have been through a lot of shit in the past.“

„Still going through it.“ He sighed and watched the numbers on the dial above them. „What about you, Agent?“

„What about me?“

Macbeth shoved his hands in his pockets.

„I am just wondering about your motivation. Like you told the gargoyles: you came all this way from Quantico, made us combine forces, have nearly spent two months now on investigation regarding the single kill commited by one vampire. It can't be out of prejudice or fanatism; you are far too accepting towards the gargoyles and other minorities. Wich leads me to the conclusion that this is a very personal matter for you.“

Leah shifted form one foot to another, eyes never leaving a certain speck of dirt on the otherwise flawless granite tiles of the elevator.

„Indeed. A very personal matter. One wich i will elaborate further, but in due time.“

The elevator beeped as it arrived the top floor, and the two were greeted by Mr. Burnett as the doors opened.

„Ah, Agent Tahanet, Macbeth. I think you should follow me to the main hall immediately. It seems like the gargoyles are a bit... tense with our guest.“

Leah and Macbeth exchanged concerned looks. „Sure, we'll be there. Oh, and Mr. Burnett? Would you do me a huge favour and fetch a bottle of water for me? I am quite parched.“ Leah asked with a charming smile.

---------------------------

„Sorry, but 'passing through' is no acceptable excuse for trashing almost the entire Met.“ Elisa crossed her arms as she interrogated the woman sitting on the large table infront of her.

She did indeed turn out to be a vampire, altough not the one they were looking for. Still, that woman -Nashville had introduced her as 'Berlind' before his parents sent him to the rookery- had killed and sucked dry at least one security guard and two Quarrymen, plus she had destroyed valuable pieces of art.

„I do not wish to turn the guilt away from me, but if you and your red haired fiend hadn't attacked me, i would not have needed to defend myself.“

„And the three dead men? Is that our fault as well?“ Angela snapped and crossed her arms.

„Who? The security guard? One could say he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, i admit that. But the other two? You shed a tear for that cattle? For the ones willing to kill your little one?“ Berlind scrunched her nose and shook her head. „I specifically followed the rules, so there is no need for you mortals to complain.“ Crossing one leg over the other, Berlind leaned back and tilted her head up and to the side; a arrogant way of telling that she was done with the conversation.

„Rules? What rules?“ But the vampire was done talking to the Detective, not dropping her arrogant posture for even a second.

„Step aside Elisa. I have a better way to get this one talking.“ Leah's voice echoed through the large room as she entered the main hall.

„No chance Leah. She's like all convicts we dealt with. Nothing is ever their fault.“ Elisa sighed and shook her head at Berlind.

„We'll see. Hello there, my name is Special Agent Leah Tahanet.“

Berlind took a glance at the human before her, then crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward. „Hmm, so wich one is you first name? Special? Or Agent?“

„Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. I believe we found our murderer.“

„Oh no, not you too. I already told the youngling, Goliath and your rather impolite friend here that i did not kill the guard in this building.“

Leah let out a snort. „And who else might it have been? Are there any other vampires running around in New York City?“

Berlind shrugged. „No. But at home.“ „Home?“

„Yes. We live in a realm, far more beautiful than this dying world.“

„So there are more of you?“

„Indeed.“

„How many?“ Nothing. The vampiress did not respond but again settled into her arrogant posture. Leah let out a long sigh before pulling something out of her ever present leather bag.

„Shame. But i still wonder: why Manhattan? Since it's an island and so. One might suggest you vampires are not too fond of getting....wet.“

There was a 'crack', followed by a little fizz as Leah popped open a bottle of sparkling water. Shock and fear washed over Berlind's face; only for a second, though. Leah's expression also changed: the look on her face was no longer relaxed and gentle. Her features hardened, her gaze turned stern and relentless and a nasty scowl replaced her kind smile.

„Now my little batty-bat. I have questions and you will answer every single one. Or you can kiss your pretty face goodbye.“ A low growl bubbled up in Berlind's throat and Leah was quick to answer the threat with a splash of water at the vampire'ss left hand.

Berlind let out a shrill scream and shuffled away from her, further towards the center of the table while she clutched her wrist.

It was exactly as Macbeth's book stated: there was a loud hiss, as if someone put a steak in a scalding pan, followed by the digusting smell of burned flesh. Goliath could see how the skin on the vampire's hand started to melt away; muscles and white bone now visible. Many of the gargoyles sharply inhaled at the sight and Angela breathed a shocked 'oh god'.

„Convinced? Or do i have to be more clear? Now, first i want to know: the massaker in Dawson, 1920: was that any of you?“ Berlind contemplated, but in the end nodded slightly.

„Okay, next question: was that just for susteance, or did you search for something or someone?“ Pause, then another nod.

„Good, we're getting somewhere. Have you or any of your kind been there recently?“ A headshake this time. „Hmm. Last one, then i'm done with you: where is Ryan Kuhn?“

Huh? Elisa and the gargoyles were more than astounded. Who was Ryan Kuhn? Berlind didn't seem to understand as well, for she looked up from her mangled hand and frowned at Leah.

„Ryan Kuhn?“

„Yes. Ryan Kuhn. Human male, about six feet tall, long brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin. He reopened the Dawson-case and traveled to Canada where he went missing about three months ago. I know that you and your kind have something to do with his disappearance and i want to know where he is!“ Leah barked and her face was a mask of fury. Elisa could tell she was about to loose her cool.

„I don't know any Ryan Kuhn.“ Berlind stammered, but Leah wasn't having it. She raised the hand still holding the open bottle, ready to pour it over the shaking vampire.

„Leah! Don't!“ Elisa yelled, but Goliath was faster. His massive hand shot forward and took hold of Leah's hand, preventing her from doing anything rash.

„Please Leah. There is no need for such cruelty.“

Indeed, there wasn't. Berlind didn't seem to be a threat. Goliath was sure she could have killed them all by now if she really wanted to. He also could not ignore the fact that she did not only save Nashville from two Quarrymen, but also chose to play with him instead of snooping around the castle. And regardless of all that: never could he allow that someone at their mercy was tormented like this.

Tears pricked in Leah's eyes as she let go of the bottle, wich shattered loudly at the stone floor, and heavy sobs started to wrack her. Angela and Elisa looked at each other, then hurried to Leah's side and gently escorted her out of the hall.

„Damnation. I am absent for ten minutes and hell errupts.“

Macbeth's voice echoed over to them as he pushed past the three women and entered the hall.

„And where have you been?“ Goliath inquired. The old scotsman pointed to a mug of coffee in his hand. „I needed something to stay awake. It may not seem like it, but i am not exactly a nightperson.“ As if he meant to, he needed to surpress a yawn. „So, what did i miss? Except agent Tahanet's mental breakdown?“

„Quite a bit.“ Brooklyn answered. „Anything about the vampire in Green-Wood?“ Macbeth shook his head as he approached. „It was neither a vampire nor satanists. Just a bunch of goth kids holding a séance in the cemetary. But what was that about Nashville and-“

„Oh. my. God. It IS you!“

Berlind jumped off the table and over the puddle on the floor, only to throw herself into Macbeth's arms. He let go of his mug, wich shattered on the floor, splashs of coffee staining Berlind's dress but she didn't care. She only shoved her face into his shoulder, clutching at his neck while Macbeth tried to push her off. Goliath and the others tried to help him, but their attempt to pry the vampire from him seemed futile: even with all the gargoyles tearing at both him and her simultaniously, Berlind didn't even budge a bit.

„Ow! Would you all- ouch! Stop that for- Ouch! QUIT PULLING AT ME, WILL YOU?!“ The gargoyles gave up their attempts to free him, leaving Macbeth some air to breathe. As well as he could with a vampire hanging at his neck.

„Now, Miss. I am very charmed that my presence overjoys you so much, but: i do not know you.“

„Oh yes, you do. You know me better than any other in this world.“ Berlind mumbled into his shoulder.

„No, i don't. I don't even know your name. Please Milady, let go so we can talk face to face.“

Much to everyone's surprise, Berlind did let go. She seemed totally enthralled, beaming up at Macbeth while he mustered her face.

„Dear lord. No, that is impossible.“

Macbeth slapped a hand on his gaping mouth and took a few steps backwards. „No. No, this cannot be. You can't be her!“ The shards of the mug crunched as Berlind stepped on them, following him.

„Do you finally recognize me, co-ogha?“

Indeed he did. Macbeth pulled the vampiress in a crushing embrace without hesitation, and she reciprocated as well as she could with only one good hand. The gargoyles watched in total bewilderment as the two embraced: Berlind once more hanging on Macbeth's neck -altough far more comfortable this time- while Macbeth pressed her to him, face buried in her raven hair as he shed a few tears.

„That is all... very confusing.“ Broadway muttered and scratched his head. „Like the sequel to a movie i didn't catch.“

Everyone, even Goliath, didn't know what to make of the sight before them. Macbeth seemed to know Berlind, but Goliath wasn't quite sure what she had said to him. Katana looked at her mate, who simply shrugged. Only Hudson crossed his arms, a light smile grazing his lips.

„If you excuse us, we'll give ye two some privacy.“ the old gargoyle grinned and beckoned the others to follow him out of the hall.

„Do you have any idea what was going on in there?“ Goliath asked as the clan dispersed for the day, the two now standing on the main tower as they watched the sky slowly turning brighter. Only a few minutes until the sun would rise.

„Aye. I don't know the whole story, of course. But what we heard was enough to see that these two have a lot of catching up to do.“

Goliath blinked at him. „It seemed like they know each other from the past.“

„They sure do.“

„Is she a lost love?“

Hudson let out a hearty laugh as the two gargoyles climbed onto their sleeping posts.

„Oh no. No no no, lad. Didn't you catch the phrase she adressed him with?“

Goliath huffed at his mentor's amusement. „No, my gaelic is a bit rusty.“

Hudson took his sleeping stance as the sun was inching higher on the horizon, then said:

„The lass used co-ogha. It is the masculin form of 'cousin'.“

„Cousin?!“ Goliath exclaimed in surprise, but the rising sun swallowed his words and preserved the comical expression on his face for the next hours.

Chapter Text

„Gesang wie ein Anker, der Widerstand brauch, in den Fluten versank er, bald holt er dich nach, willst die Kette noch packen die zur Finsternis rast, mit dem Reif um den Nacken, begrüßt du die Last. Luna, o Fortuna! Ist es auch morgen vorbei ... es sei! Luna, o Fortuna! Der alte Schwur wiegt so schwer wie Blei Ein Versprechen an den den Mond und den Klang, der darin wohnt. Lass dich frei!“

(Translation: Singing like an anchor that needs resistance, he sank in the floods, he'll catch up with you soon. You still want to grab the chain that races towards the darkness, with the circlet around your neck, you welcome the burden. Luna, oh Fortuna! Even if it's over tomorrow... so be it! Luna, oh Fortuna! The old oath weighs as heavy as lead. A promise to the moon and the sound that lives within it. Set yourself free!)

Ansar's etheral singing resonated through the walls of his castle. It lifted the mood of his gargoyles and helped them to focus on their daily buisness instead on the fact that they had to share some of their tediously collected stockpile with Aodh's clan.

The clan leader, a meager female with black skin and a scanty mane of grey hair, was sitting on a high shelf, observing her lord as he bowed over his cauldron; still singing his song. The liquid he stirred was of lavender colour, with a pretty silver glimmer in it.

„Mylord, may i ask what kind of potion you are brewing?“ She asked over the final high note Ansar was currently drawing out. He cleared his throat and tossed a handful of dried rat's feet in the potion

„This concoction is very important to the task at hand, my dear child. We need it to get the information from the swines, and this will make them far more... compliant to our demands.“ Ansar sniffed at the shimmery liquid he inspected with a ladle, then scrunched his nose in displeasure and went to a worn cabinet, filled to the brim with various herbs, dead and living insects, dried limbs and gemstones.

The whole tower room was crammed with potion ingriediens, magic books in crooked shelves and kettles in many sized and forms. While Lady Alienor was the best magician and Lord Aodh the most skilled fighter, Lord Ansar was quite proficient in potion- and poisonmaking, as well as in the gathering of information. His sister tended to call him a walking encyclopedia, and even his older brother had to admit that Ansar has some serious brains on him. He was a bit mad and displayed a nasty temper, sure. But it was always a real spectacle for his clan to observe him holding a banquet with none of the guests aware of the poison in their food. Or how he had played many kings and queens against each other. Or how he was plain rude to the humans, insulting and mocking them at every turn.

Oh yes. Eternity may be long, but with Ansar as their Lord, the clan at least would never get bored.

Said Lord returned to the cauldron with a jar, filled with a smeary white substance. He ladled some of it up with a knife, then tossed it in the potion with enough momentum, and the potion emitted a turquoise little puff. After stirring it ten rounds to the left and two to the right, he beckoned his gargoyle closer to the cauldron. She knew exactly what to do, snorting up a great amount of sputum from the dephts of her throat and spit it into the potion. Her master gave it a final round of stirs, sniffed the liquid again, then nodded very pleased.

„Thank you my deary. Now, any words from my sister's second?“ The gargoyle shook her head. „Nay Mylord. Lady Berlind has not yet returned from her visit to the human world.“

„Hmmm...“ Ansar tapped his chin with the ladle's handle.

That was very unusual for Berlind. She had been turned by Alienor right after Aodh and Ansar, thereby inheriting a good portion of his mighty sister's dark gift. Berlind was highly capable of dealing with a large number of foes at once, as well as practicing simpler forms of magic. Furthermore, she was the most reliable, enjoying Allie's total trust. To simply stay away far longer than needed was totally out of character for her. So, she either had run into some trouble, got distracted, or a combination of both. Hopefully it was the second option. It would be a devastating loss if anything had happened to her.

„My Deary, please sent word to my sister. Let her know that the potion is ready and if she needs assistance of any kind, i am more than ready to aid her.“ Ansar said as he ladled some potion in a delicate crystal vial.

The scrawny female nodded and hopped off the shelf, bowed at the hip, then jumped out the tower's only window to bring the message to Lady Alienor.

------------------------

„Can i help you somehow? With, i don't know.... a bandage or something?“

Berlind was sitting on the bed in one of the guestrooms in Macbeth's mansion. Her hand still looked terribly disfigured, altough it was no longer devoid of skin. Fresh and thin like pergament, it stretched over the naked bones and damaged muscles. She still couldn't move her fingers; the water had eaten away all her sinews and ligaments.

„No, thank you cousin. All the bandages and medicine in this world won't help me heal.“ Berlind gently shook her head. „There is only one thing able to close my wounds.“

„I see.“ Macbeth let out a heavy sigh and reached for a silver pitcher and a glass on the chest of drawers behind him. The vampire before him started to shiver with anticipation as he poured a dark red liquid into the glass. Berlind greedily snatched the offered blood and gulped it down rapidly, then held the glass towards him for a refill.

„I am still surprised that you managed to get nearly a litre of human blood in such a short time, so easily. And without killing, i might add.“

„I have connections to the head labtechnitian at the Manhattan General. It's actually some expired units of stored blood.“

„That explains the weird aftertaste.“ Berlind raised a brow at the blood. It was fascinating to watch: even after just one glass, the skin on her injured hand had turned thicker, muscles underneath started to grow back and it even regained some movement. Macbeth watched how his cousin quickly drank her refill and heavy sorrow overcame him.

„What has happened to you, Berlind?“

„Huh?“ He gestured at the glass in her hands. „Oh, you mean my curse?“

„Yes. How did it come to this? Who turned you into a monster?“

„Is that all you see in me, Macbeth? A monster?“ Berlind asked sadly.

„No. Of course not. But i still need to know how you became inflicted with a curse even more vile than my own. How it can be that you sit here before me, 940 years after we saw each other for the last time.“

„You know, that is kind of a long story.“

„Well, i am undying, you are undying... even if it takes a century, i will listen.“ he reassured her.

„If you wish. After Canmore and the English had sacked Castle Moray and Luach was slain in the field, the troops defeated... there was no one to protect either me or Lady Gruoch. While she evaded capture by the English by commiting suicide, i lacked the courage to do the same. Malcolm was quick to promise my hand one of the English nobles, some lord so-and-so. But i was unwilling to pledge my loyality, neither to him, nor my husband-to-be. And after a heated argument, my dearest brother raped and strangled me. Shocked by what he had done, i was denied a proper burial; my body thrown into a shallow grave near the knacker's yard. Or at least, that is what i have been told. I laid there, in the ground, getting devoured by worms and decay, for the next twenty years. Until my siress found and revived me. And that is mostly what happened.“

Heavy silence laid above them like a shroud, for the story had torn open old wounds in both of them.

„What was it like? Being dead?“ Macbeth muttered. He had leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he ran both hands through his hair.

„It was... like exhaling after holding your breath too long. Like a deep, dreamless sleep.“ Berlind laid a hand on his shoulder and as he looked up at her, she grasped his hands with her own. „I did not see any of them. Neither Lady Gruoch nor Luach. Or my mother. I don't know if they journeyed onward to a place i could not follow, or if there simply is nothing after death. No paradise, no rebirth. No, i cannot say. There was only all-encompassing nothingness. For me, at least. I am sorry.... if this is not the answer you wished for.“

„What i wish and do not wish for is irrelevant.“ Macbeth answered. „Death has evaded me for so long, and after the recent turn of events, i think it should evade me for a bit longer.“ He shot her a sad smile wich quickly vanished. „But i cannot tell you how deeply it pains me to know what kind of cruelties your own brother did to you.“ Berlind merely shrugged. „It is what it is. All of us have endured pain and hardship, and we either live with it or fall into the pit of despair.“

They settled into a comfortable silence and Macbeth looked closely at his cousin's hands. The left was fully healed now, not much different from the right. Black and dark grey veins graced etheral, greyish-pale skin and while her fingernails looked not much different, but he could tell that they where far stronger and sharper, almost like claws. She had also lost a lot of weight: always on the slimmer side, Berlind was now far more bony; her clavicle and hipbone clearly visible even under her silken gown.

„But i have to ask you, cousin-“ Macbeth broke the silence „-you keep talking about your siress, and i wonder: who is she?“ A smile spread over Berlind's face, bright as the sun. „She is the mightiest and fairest being in all of exisence and all creatures of night and day bow before her. Not even Oberon himself is her equal.“

„Sounds like she is a force to be reckoned with.“

„You have no idea. She is the Ruler of the Night, Mother of Monsters and Queen of the Kings. Oh, the stories i could tell you about her might-“

But Berlind's storytelling was cut short by her hearty yawn. Macbeth let out a chuckle, stood up and went to the large cabinet on the other side of the room. „I think you can tell me after a nap. A bit of rest can't hurt you.“ He thought for a moment as he returned and handed his cousin a white nightgown. „You do sleep, don't you?“ „It depends. I do not need to when uninjured, but after a injury like this i prefer to rest for a few hours. Otherwise it is a great way to kill spare time.“ Berlind answered as she greatfully accepted the change of clothes.

„Just like reading.“ Macbeth said and went to the door. „If you need anything cousin, let me know.“

-----------------------------------------

„What were you thinking, Leah? Since when does a member of the FBI resort to torture?“ Elisa inquired as she and Leah sat on the couch in the latter's hotel room. „Oh please, Elisa. Spare me your lectures. It was wrong, ok? And it also was a split second descicion made in the heat of the moment.“

„Still, i want to know the truth. The whole truth, Leah. Why are you really here? Who is Ryan Kuhn?“

Leah let out a long sigh. „Okay, guess i owe you this much.“ She grabbed one of the paper mugs on the coffee table and took a sip of the sugary beverage. Elisa had brought them with her, a simple coffee with milk and sugar for herself and a cinnamon latte for Leah. Just like back in Arizona.

„Ryan is my partner. He went to investigate the old Dawson-murders, and just like you did earlier, i believed the whole vampire-theory to be a complete load of bullshit. But Ryan was adamant in his theory and went anyway. His investigation turned out to be quite frutiful, suddenly a long-cold case had more than just a hot trace. It was scalding. Everything started to add up and i have to admit, i was more than impressed. I was jealous. I mean, how come he was about to solve one of the most mysterious cases in the entire world in less than a month? And all on his own?“ Leah threw her hands up in annoyance, then crossed them over her chest. „And just when he was this close to identify the culprit-“ She made a motion with her fingers, showing just a small amount of space between her index finger and her thumb „-he simply vanished. Poof. No mail, no call, nothing. As if he was swallowed from the face of the earth. I didn't mean to hurt this woman, you have to believe me. But that vampire was my best chance of getting some answers. I simply... snapped.“

Elisa pondered over Leah's words. That explained everything. Why she had come all this way from Quantico for a single murder, without official request of the NYPD, for a single murder with no indication about a serial killer or criminal organization. What if she was in Leah's place? And Matt had simply vanished? Or one of the gargoyles?

„Don't worry Leah. We'll find him.“ Leah's head snapped up as she looked in her friend's eyes. „Seriously?“

Elisa let out a heavy sigh, then nodded.

Chapter Text

Alienor observed the large estate outside of Manhattan.

Ansar was already on his way to Riker's Island and Aodh busy in Europe, but she still had to retrieve her wayward fledgeling. Of course she could have send one of the gargoyles to do it, but then she would have to be the buzzkill. 'Accidentally' breaking her spine as she dragged her back home would make Alienor look less of an arsehole. Either way: Berlind was not going out of this unpunished.

She had spent days spying on the human that lived here. Of course, he was no absolute stranger: it was the same guy she had ran into about a month ago, shortly before stealing the data regarding the one calling themselves 'Hunters'. Alienor let out a snort at the thought. 'Hunters'... 'Mercy flush' would be a better name for those three lousy brats. They may be impressive on the battlefield for gargoyles or other humans, but just like their predecessors, they were no real match for an average adult vampire, let alone herself or her brethren. But it didn't matter how often she or her brothers killed a generation of those swines: they somehow always came back. Like a bunch of cockroaches.

But this elderly human male really caught her interest. He looked like a elderly version of her brother Aodh, almost confusingly similar. And Berlind seemed to be his guest, rather than a captive. A grey Ford Escort drove out from behind the building, indicating that the last member of housekeeping staff had left. Perfect. No need for unnescessary bloodshed. Only her disobedient daughter and the old man.

Alienor gathered her mind and concetrated on a spot in the building she had seen earlier, when one of the maids had opened the windows for some fresh air. A flash of bright light later, she was no longer sitting hidden inside the treetop, but stood inside a hallway. The interior was surprisingly tasteful. Well, for a mortal. Thick blue carpets muffled her steps as she strolled through the building. Berlind had to be here somewhere. She could smell her. A shadow shushed past a large window at the end of the hallway, but Alienor didn't pay it any attention. It was just an owl. She had heard it approach in the darkening sky.

But there was something else that managed to caught her attention: the setting sun fell through the same large window and made the floor before her sparkle with various colours. Upon inspecting, she saw how crafty it really was. The window pictured a man, standing before a gargoyle under the full moon. She knew that story. Vitani had told it to her many, many times when she had been a fledgeling herself.

„Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?“

The man standing behind her had pointed a gun at her, the 'click' was characteristic for a Glock 17. Caliber .357 judging from the sound as the bullet slid into the cartridge chamber.

„Leave Mortal. This matter does not concern you.“

„Mortal heh? Oh, how i wish ye be right. Unfortunately you aren't.“

Alienor frowned and finally looked at the unfortunale soul who dared to challenge her. It was the elderly human owning this place, of course. But the way he had his defiant gaze was fixed on her, how he stared her right in the eyes without a flicker of fear...

„What is your name, human?“

„I fail to see how that's any of your buisness.“

Alienor turned around fully and made a step towards him.

„I have to say: i admire your fearlessness. Not many humans keep their aim straight when standing eye to eye with death.“

„Like i said: death is not really a threat for me.“

A small grin curled her lips, when a sudden presence behind the man caught her attention.

„What do you think you are doing?“

Berlind stopped in her tracks as she tried to approach her siress. „Please mother, i-“ But her explanation was cut short when Alienor threw her into the wall with a powerful blast of telekenesis. The human went to shoot at her, but Alienor stopped the bullet mid air, where it fell on the carpet with a sad little 'thud'. Her attacker went speechless for a moment and Alienor made use of his bewilderment by strolling past him.

„You dare to talk back to me? Your absence has set us back for over and entire week!“

Berlind coughed a mouthful of blood onto the floor and clutched her stomach.

„Mother please! I have found a member of our most noble family!“

She cocked her head at her daughter. „Did you?“ If so, that would be far more interesting than the three swines. Berlind nodded and retched another load of blood onto the floor while pointing at the human male.

„Who are you, mortal?“

„I asked first.“ the man snarled at her. Even without any kind of weapon harmful to her, he still kept his defiant gaze.

„My name is Alienor.“ „Alienor who? Or just Alienor?“

„Alienor inghean Luach from House Alpin.“

He barked out a loud laughter. „I know for sure, that this is a lie.“

„Please, mother, co-oga, just cease your fighting for a minute!“

Alienor glared at her fledgeling „What did you call this mortal? Cousin?“ She used her telekenisis and pulled Berlind to her feet. „What are you concocting here, Berlind?“

„Nothing, my dearest mother. I was just about to explain the entire situation to my cousin when you took matters into your own hands.“

Berlind smoothed some crinkles out of her dress and stood between her mother and the human. It was not the same one she had previously worn: usually, Berlind was clad in a blue gown made of silk, signaling anyone in their realm that she was a descendand of Alienor. Now, she wore a dress far shorter, stopping right under her knees. It had a soft peachy color, going nicely with her dark hair and fair skin. Apparently her wayward fledgeling was making herself comfortable here in the human world.

„This-“ Berlind pointed her hand towards her host „- is Macbeth mac Findlaech, King of Scotland until 1057 and father of King Luach. He is the cousin of my father, King Duncan.“

Alienor frowned and looked at the human before her: he clearly bore resemblance to Aodh, that was for sure. But now she could see how he had the same blue eyes as Ansar, how he glared at her the same way her brothers did when something displeased them. Even his stance was the same. Little things she would usually pay no attention to, but now that Berlind said it...

„So you are telling me, that this man is our father's father?“

„Indeed it do!“ Berlind said and her long hair swished behind her.

„That is preposterous!“ Macbeth yelled. „I would have known if my son had any children of his own!“

„Not if you never met them.“ Alienor calmly rebutted. „When was the official date of your death? August 15^th in 1057, correct me if i am wrong. King Luach died at March 17^th, 1058. The birthdate of my siblings and myself is May 1^st, 1058. You wouldn't nescessarily know about our birth, since you were no longer part of your former court.“

Macbeth shook his head at her claims. „Sorry Miss, but i have a hard time believing any word you say.“

Alienor simply shrugged. „Believe what you want, Auld yin. I do not care for your approval. So Berlind, am i right in my assumption that you wish to stay with this mortal for the time being?“

Berlind bowed deeply at the hip. „Indeed. If my great mother allows this, that is.“

Letting out a grumble and rolling her eyes, Alienor sighed. „Whatever. You will face your punishment once you return home. The others and i have important buisness to attend here.“

„Mother, please. Allow me one more question.“ Berlind asked as her siress collected her thoughts once more to leave. „What is that?“

„That human guard in the Eyrie Building a few weeks ago: was he your meal?“ Alienor frowned at her daughter.

„Of course he was.“ And with that, she teleported away from this place.

Chapter Text

Riker's Island wasn't really anyones favourite place. But Ansar hated it especially. A puny island of rocks and concrete, surrounded by endless masses of water.

As he manifested on the roof of the prison after teleporting, he stepped in a puddle of water; left behind by previous rain. „Bah!“ he quickly shook the offending liquid off his boots before it could seep through. „Damnation, this is by far the most degrading mission i ever had to fulfill.“ he muttered and pulled a large gargoyle egg out of his satchel. It was not alive, had never been, and now it served as the perfect ingredient for his changing spell. He cracked the shell open over his head and rather than a heavy amount of goo, a reddish-blue mist seeped out and covered his form. Taking one last glance at his reflection in the puddle, he climbed through one of the many airshafts and inside the building.

Jason Canmore sat in his wheelchair and stared onto the desk infront of him. Some probation officer wanted to speak with him about missing signatures on his testimonies or something.

„Ah, Mr. Canmore! Please excuse my late arrival.“ A beautiful lady stepped into the room. „I am Mrs. Rodriguez. We will be done in a minute, it is just about some files you need to sign. But first: can i offer you something to drink? Water? Soda? Coffee?“

„Uhhh...“ That was unusual. He mustered the woman before him: She was as tall as Elisa, her figure similar. But her hair was dark brown rather than black; and her eyes steely grey, not brown. „I'll take a coke.“

„Splendid!“ She pulled a can out of her file case and passed it to him before cracking another one open for herself. It was cold and sugary, a welcome treat he rarely got in jail.

„So, here are the nescessary documents. Please sign on the marked lines at the bottom.“ She pushed a small pile of papers towards him, along a ballpen. Transfer of Ownership was written on top of the first one. Jason blinked a few times as he could not believe his eyes. Application for early parole was printed on the paper.

He overflew the first document, then the second. It was as if the words changed before his eyes. Heavy beats of sweat started to coat his brow and the air felt thick and sticky. „Are you feeling alright, Mr. Canmore?“ Mrs. Rodriguez shot him a concerned smile. „Shall i notify the guards?“

„No, no. I- i am fine.“ if she did, he would have to be quarantined, meaning he had to spent at least a week alone in his cell and was unable to do physical therapy.

Jason picked up the pen with a shaky hand, then went to sign the pile of paper. Sweat was now dripping freely from his forehead and his shirt clung to his back. He took another deep gulp of the refreshing soda. It was only a bunch of signatures, but it felt as if he had to run a marathon, as if this simple task took hours instead of minutes.

„Now, let's see....“ Mrs. Rodriguez overflew the papers in search for any missing signatures before shooting him another of her charming smiles. „Thank you so much, Mr. Canmore. I will send them to court immediately. You'll be out of here in no time!“

She stood up and knocked on the door, indicating she wanted to leave.

„Goodbye Mr. Canmore. And don't worry: the sweating will subside in a few minutes.“

Jason jerked his head up in question, but the guard already closed the door behind her.

-------------------------------

Night April 30^th/May 1^st, 1058

The scream was bloodcurdling as it ripped through the night. Cold air hit his face as he rushed towards the cloister; time was running out. 

A old nun approached him as soon as his feet hit the stone tiles of the courtyard, her black robe fluttering around her fleshy ankles with every step.

„I am still astounded that you would let me set foot in your abbey, mother superior.“ The nun only waved her hand as she led him through the many hallways, closer to the source of the loud wailing. „After all your clan did for us in the past, you are always welcome here. For we are all children of the lord.“ She stopped infront of a blank wooden door and the silence following the loud screams was heavy like a shroud. „But i am afraid this poor soul will meet the Lord sooner than any of us.“ 

A heavy tang of iron and death hit his nostrils as he followed the old nun inside the room. It looked like a slaughterhouse: red footprints littered the stoney floor and bright crimson stained the white linen on the single bed in the middle. A young woman was kneeling beside it, hunched over the matress, gripping the sheets tightly as she tried to catch her breath. Two younger sisters tended to her, but all the soothing words couldn‘t ease the pain. Suddenly, the maiden tensed up again, threw back her head and gritted her teeth. One hand flew to her belly and gripped it tightly as another strong contraction hit her.

„Dear God… What did you do to her?“ The gargoyle was quickly at her side, shooing away the two nuns as he knelt down in the increasing puddle of blood. „There is nothing what we can do, i am afraid.“ the mother superior muttered sadly as she watched the scene before her. 

„Brother, is it you?" the maiden‘s voice was weak as she drew in ragged breaths between the words. ‚Brother‘ gently brushed some wet strands of hair from her sweaty forehead. "Yes. Yes Elli, it's me.“ As if it took all the strength in the world, she managed to lift her head and weakly smiled at him. "I am so glad you came. I missed you, big brother." Trying to soothe her, he gently rubbed her back, while trying to blend out the big crimson stain on her nightgown. "I- i can't do this any more…."

„Nonesense!" His long mane wirled around as 'brother' vigourously shook his head. "You can do this! You will have your baby and we'll find your relatives in norway. Everything will be fine, you'll see.“ Ellisif let out a weak chuckle as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "We both know... this will… never happen." Tears rolled over her cheeks as she drew in a deep breath, feeling another contraction approaching. "I- i need you to help me. Please." The gargoyle clutched her hand gently brushed over her head with the other. "Anything, little sister.“ 

"When- when i die… look after my child. I beg you.“ 

"What are you saying? You won't die, Elli.“ More tears flooded her face as she smiled sadly at him. 

"I will. And that is fine, as long as you keep them safe from Canmore's wrath.“ Ellisif let out another bloodcurdling wail, nearly shredding the sheets with her grip. ‚Brother' could feel how the skin of her belly tensed up as he laid his hand over hers, as well as a warm swell on his knees as a wave of fresh blood poured out of her womb. Fighting back tears of his own, he rested his forehead on her temple. „I will. I promise on my soul, little sister. I'll protect your children for as long as i live." Ellisif nodded weakly and the two younger nuns rushed to her side, then helped her so she could lay back on the blood stained bed.

„What are you-" but his question was cut short as he noticed the little *ching ching* noises as the sister superior sharpened a small knife. "Please, lend us a hand and help to hold her down. Even when willing, the mothers trash around from the pain and fear of death.“ 

"You are jesting. You must be…" 'Brother' shook his head in disbelief. Do they actually intend to cut her open like a pig? And expected him to help them? But then, a soft hand weakly grasped his, growing cold as life seeped out of her. 

„Please brother. Promise me…"

‚Brother‘ did not feel the cool spray of the sea on his face as he stared down at the waves. The moonlight glittered on the surprisingly still water, bathing his surroundings in a silvery sheen. It was such a stark contrast to the scene he had whitnessed earlier. Everything was so serene and monochrome; while only hours ago, he had been standing in his friend's blood, holding her down while the mother superior cut open her belly. Never would he forget her screams, the sight of blood gushing onto the sheets in heavy streams. Or the weak whisper before she passed away, telling him the names of her children. 

Triplets. Who could ever imagine triplets? Twins, maybe. But all of them had been surprised as the mother surperior pulled out a girl first, followed by a boy and then, another boy. The nuns quickly becrossed themselves, deeming it the work of demons. But the gargoyles did not believe in such a thing. He took the children with him, ignoring the nuns pleads to drown them. 

He had promised her. Promised in her hand, at her deathbed, on his soul. Never would he let any harm befall her and Luach's children.

A little squeak pulled him out of his stupor and he shifted his gaze from the glittering sea down at the swaddled infants in his arms. Ansar had shifted a bit, sticking his tiny arm out of the blanket and was now freezing in the cold air of May. 'Brother' quickly wrapped the infant back in his swaddles, tracing a claw gently over his features. Even now, only hours after birth, the three looked so much like their parents. A last reminder of his dear friends. 

„What am i supposed to do with you three?" he muttered. Finding a woman willing to nurse then would prove to be tricky enough, not to mention that they needed supervision for the time he slept. And he could trust no one in this country, for Canmore surely would do anything to get his hands on the last heirs of house Alpin. They were the only ones who could threaten his reign now. 

But he could think about that later. Right now, he needed to find a safe place to rest for the day.

--------------------

„Damnation!“

The old gargoyle cursed as one of the porcelaine bowls slipped from her hands and shattered on the stone floor. Hot custard splattered all over the tiles and cabinets.

„What seems to be the issue, my friend?“ Vitani asked as he strolled through the kitchen, then stopped to take in the mess before him.

„Just my old withered hands. And as long as the melancholy of our dear Queen won't subside, not much will change that.“ The old matron grumbled. „One might think ripping off those uncultured swines would improve her mood, but she seems to be more downtrotten than ever.“

„Let me help you, my friend.“ Snapping his claws, Vitani made use of a simple spell Alienor had taught him long ago. The shards flew into the air, where they fused back into a bowl and landed in the old matrons hands.

But it was true. Ever since she returned from the human world, Alienor had hidden away in her bedchamber, not talking to anyone. She did not care for anything that happened inside her clan, choosing to delegate all of her responsibilities to Vitani and the other clan leaders. It was unknown for then to be without any guidance of sort; for too long have they relied on Alienor. Suddenly, one of the kitchen's windows slammed open with a loud BANG! and icy wind and snow blew inside. Some of the kitchen staff where quick to force it shut again, struggling against the heavy snowstorm.

Although Alienor by no means controlled the weather: the health and physical condition of the gargoyles was tied tightly to her own. If their Queen was on the peak of her power, so was the clan. If she was depressed and sick, the clan also would loose a whole lot of it's power.

Vitani gritted his teeth at the thought.

For centuries they had thrived under the rule of Alienor and her brothers, even back in the human world. The three vampires had become the personal curse of the Canmore-family, alongside Demona and were even more feared by them. But after a few centuries, they chose to ralley the citizens instead of fighting the vampires on their own. In merely a decade, that cutthroat citizen-mob had accomplished, what the Canmores could not: nearly exterminating every vampire in the world. Not to mention the destruction of every gargoyle clan tied to them...

Hiding away in this beautiful realm at the end of all times had proven to be the best solution. The gargoyles had flourished here, granted unnatural longlivety by the warped time and blood of their Mistress. But all of that could never undo the damage caused to their Queen's and Lords souls.

They had lost all of their fledgelings, safe for Berlind, leaving the three depressed and grieving. Ansar had become more mentally unstable every day, his parental character grew overprotective to the brink of controlling every aspect of his clan's daily life. The other day, Vitani whitnessed how he backhanded a disobedient youngling. Never, never had he laid a hand on them in the past.

Aodh on the other hand grew more lethargic, paying no more attention to his training. If he even trained. Most of the time he withered away on his throne, waiting for one day to die so he could repeat on another. Just like their master, his clan also went from the finest warriors to fat and lazy globs, idling their days away in the main hall of his domaine.

And Alienor... she lost her curiosity, the fire in her eyes. Nothing interested her anymore, except the hatching season.

It pained Vitani to see them like that. His now grown-up little babies, drowning in a swamp of grieve and despair. Orchestrating the meeting between Macbeth and Berlind had been tricky, but sadly it did not bring the desired outcome. His former king had blatantly dismissed that Alienor was his granddaughter, while Alienor did not spend a second thought on proving him wrong. He thought that maybe, if they finally met and bonded, Macbeth and his grandchildren would be able to lift each other out of their depression.

And now his meddling only made matters worse.

Even if he did not want to, he needed to fix this. Maybe if he persuaded Macbeth, he would be inclined to accept Alienor, Aodh and Ansar.

But that also meant he would have to face his former King, nearly 940 years after his betrayal....

Chapter Text

„-the father shudders, his ride is wild, in his arms he's holding the groaning child. Reaches the court with toil and dread. The child he held in his arms was dead.“

„Was that the Elfking?“ Berlind closed the book with a small 'clap' before turning her attention towards the doorframe of the library. Fox stood there with a suspicious look on her face as she mustered the vampiress. „Yes. From Goethe.“

Berlind had agreed to meet Agent Tahanet in the Wyvern Castle, accepting her apology as well as aiding her in the search for this 'Ryan Kuhn'. It was a good opportunity to stay in this realm for a bit longer. To evade her mother's wrath. And now she waited in the library for the gargoyles to wake up, wandering up and down the thick carpet as she studied some of the poems. Of course this one had to be here as well. It was everywhere. Followed her like her own brand of shame.

„I always thought is was a sad poem. No matter how hard the father tries, he still looses his child to fever in the end.“

„So this is how you interpret it? As the tale of a fever-sick child and it's father racing against death?“ Berlind asked, her gaze pinned on the book in her hands.

„Sure. As what do you see it?“

„It is about violence. The 'Erlkönig' is a rapist. And the child is the analogy of the boy's childhood dying at the hands of his tormentor.“

Astoundment washed over Fox' features at this statement. Only now did she realize how Berlind trembled slightly; how she held onto the book with crushing force.

„Someone has done something terrible to you, right?“ The silence coming from the vampire was answer enough.

„I am... sorry.“

„Don't be. You are not the one who should be sorry. But he. In the end, he met his fate. Like we all will. Sooner or later.“

A dinstinctive scent wafted through the air as she approached Fox, bright eyes settled on her as the two women stood face to face. Fright. And fear. That was it. This mortal woman reeked of it. Berlind could smell it everywhere.

„You have nothing to fear from me, or my masters. And neither does your child. You are the hosts of my mistress' children and if that is not reason enough, we still follow the rules.“

Fox stared at her with wide eyes, unable to draw another breath. Usually, she was so calm and level-headed, regardless of the danger she found herself in. But somehow those blood-sucking monsters frightened her more than anything. „Rules? What rules?“ she managed to press out from gritted teeth.

„The Rules of the Hunt. My siress enacted them long ago. We are not allowed to kill children. Or the sick. Everyone unable to defend themselves. As well as a woman if a child's life is tied to hers.“

„And you stick to those rules?“

„Always.“

Footsteps accompanied by adorable baby-chatter cut through the tensed air, followed by David Xanatos entering the library with Alex in his arms. „My dear, are you ready for- Oh, greetings Berlind. Did we interrupt you?“

„Oh no, not at all. I was actually just on my way out.“ Berlind replied with a bright smile and cheerful voice, contrasting her earlier behaviour. She cooed a little at Alex, who grabbed her outstretched finger and squealed in delight; before setting off to the main tower.

---------------------------------

„Alienor! Alienor, where are you?“ '

'Brother' called out in the night as he searched for his wayward child. Of the three siblings, Alienor possessed the most tendency to wander off, easily enthralled with the simplest things. Even back when she was still a human.

Their turning came with a heavy toll, but made caring for the triplets a lot easier for him and the other two. A sister, who evaded the Wyvern massacre after getting lost on a nightly hunt and a fellow brother, who also did not believe Demona's tales of betrayal and returned to Clan Moray; only to find the castle burned down and King Luach slewn. Stumbleing over his two siblings was mere luck but also of great fortune for all of them.

Taking care of human infants was harder than he could have ever expected. Not the thing with feeding, burping and changing. The three did well with goats milk, and the changing was not much different from a hatchling's. But human children were so much more fragile, sensitive to cold and with really soft heads. And after they grew out of the infant phase, when they slept through the day and they could travel again, guarding three waddling toddlers turned out to be even more strenuous. And it made no difference that they were vampires now.

„There you are!“ He landed next to his stray fledgeling, currently busy poking a small stream with a stick. The sudden noise startled her, and 'Brother' was quick to grab her by the bodice of her dress to prevent her from falling into the water.

„Careful my darling. Wouldn't want you to burn yourself.“ The little girl only stared into the gurgling stream, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a pout.

„Brother? What does water feel like?“

„Huh? Don't you remember?“ A headshake. „Well, usually it is cold, except when heated up by fire or the sun. And when it gets too cold, it turns to ice.“

„No, i mean.... what does it feel like? What is the feeling of touching water?“

„Well, you get wet.“

Not really pleased with his answer, the young vampire took up her stick and continued to poke the water. That sullen mood was not typical for her.

„Listen, how about we go back and you can feast on the two robbers our sister and brother brought home the other night? I am sure Aodh and Ansar have not managed to suck them dry yet.“

Nothing. Alienor just stared into the stream as she began to fiddle with the fabric of her dress.

„Brother? What will happen when you die?“

Wow. That came out of nowhere.

„What do you mean? I have no intention of dying in the forseeable future!“ he laughed lightly, a futile attempt to disperse the tension.

„But you will, eventually. I am a vampire, so i will not. And then what? Will you leave me all alone?“ Only now did he realize how timid her voice was, a bit croaky as she tried to speak around the lump in her throat. „Will you go to a place with god, like my mommy and daddy? Where i cannot follow you? And leave me behind?“

„No! No no no, my darling!“ He was quick to wrap her in his arms and soothingly ran his claws through her wild curls. The little girl cuddled into his embrace, her tiny hands grabbing his thick mane.

„Never, Allie. I'll always be with you. Even if you cannot see me.“

-------------------------

Drinking did not help. Usually, when Macbeth had exhausted all his previous options of reading, training and compulsive shopping, he resumed to mankinds oldest method of drowning out reality: getting slam drunk. And not even that silenced the echo in his mind anymore.

'My name is Alienor. Alienor inghean Luach from House Alpin.'

For centuries, he had wallowed in pity, lamenting the loss of his family. He had some children over time, some families, but outlived them all in the end. Did he love them? His wives? Somehow, yes. But in the end, none of them could ever substitude for Gruoch. Or Luach. The mess in Paris was a exception in his otherwise solitude life, when the stupid, harebrained thought of raising another family embedded itself in his mind. No. It was far too painful. Watching your loved ones die one by one before you... No. Never again.

'Believe what you want, Auld yin.'

Shit. Taking another deep gulp from his bottle of who-knows-what, Macbeth stared onto the sea unfolding below his estate.

Jumping off the wall was tempting right now. But not worth it. Not only because he would always survive, but also because the water had about five degrees celsius. It would feel like a million needles poking into his skin. And if he broke something, well: one could not really lift a bottle with a shattered wrist.

„Why do i equip my mansion with an air security system if said air security system is not air securi-ing?“he slurred a bit as a large shadow landed next to the lounger he was laid on.

A gargoyle with a thick, white mane approached, then fell down on one knee before him. He knew this one. Deep within his intoxicated mind, Macbeth dug up the memory of this tan skinned gargoyle. He used to be a close friend to Luach, a fierce warrior from Demona's clan.

„My King. It is far too long that we have seen each other. I've come to beg for your forgiveness. And to offer my advice.“

Macbeth stared at the gargoyle for a moment, then the bottle in his hand, then chucked it over the wall.

„My King?“ the tan gargoyle asked, but Macbeth simply settled back into his lounger, closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves.

„Whatever hallucination ye are, leave. I've had enough of you in the past days. First, my long-dead cousin shows up as a vampire. Then, this even more powerful vampiress seeks her out and claims to be my long lost granddaughter. And now a former member of Demona's treacherous clan? Nah, i've had enough. Trick of mind or not: just be gone.“

„I come to urge you to reconsider your judgement. I can assure you: every word Alienor speaks is true.“

„Mhm.“ Macbeth only hummed, not really paying attention. Damn, whatever kind of booze he had in the past hours, it really send him on a bad trip.

„Well-“ the gargoyle said after a few moments of pondering „-if you do not want to hear, maybe you would like to see.“

„See?“

„Yes.“ Vitani answered and pulled out what looked like a deep green gem, embedded in a golden frame. „Let me take you back, to see what transpired 940 years ago.“ He extended his hand towards his former king, who took it reluctantly, then tapped the crystal a few times with his claw.

A blinding light, not unlike to the phoenix-gate later, Macbeth found himself in very familiar surroundings. „Are we in the hills of Moray?“ he asked, sobered up almost immediately.

„Indeed. About a week before the attack of the english.“

They spotted a young man, clearly deerstalking, behind a few bushes as he took aim at a impressive stag grazing a few feet below on the meadow. Macbeth would recognize him anywhere, anytime.

„Luach...“ But Vitani stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. „He cannot see, nor hear you. This is not a time travel, only a memory. We are unable to interact with them, or direct the outcome of their story.“ The two continued to watch the scenery, when suddenly, another arrow shot the stag so powerful, it went straight through it's ribcage. The few does accompanying him quickly dispersed and Luach let out an annoyed huff.

„How many times did i ask you not to do that?“ he called over his shoulder into a small grove behind him. A rustle, followed by a young maiden as she gracefully stepped out between the windswept trees. She was armed with a bow, ready to fire another arrow.

Macbeth took a step closer to get a better look at her: she was really beautiful, with pale skin, wavy blonde hair and hazel eyes. The dress she wore was simple and similar to the ones worn by viking women.

„Ye know that hunting is only allowed to the nobels, not peasants?“ Luach taunted her with a broad grin as they inspected the dead stag.

„What will you do? Detain me, your highness?“ The young maid asked as she took a few steps towards him, then wound her arms around Luach's neck; toying with a strand of his long hair. He answered her affections by laying his hands on her waist and rested his forehead against hers.

„Maybe i should.“ His teasing grin changed to a concerned whisper. „How are you feeling? No one was bothering you?“

„No, not at all! Your 'brother' takes his task as my personal guard very serious.“ She smiled gently at him. „And the sickness has mostly subsided.“ Disentangling from their embrace, she ran her hands over the layers of her dress, flattened the fabric and revealed the swell of her belly.

„What did your father say? Have you spoken to him?“

Luach sheepishly scratched his neck. „Nay. I- i lack the courage to do so.“ The beautiful maiden tilted her head and lifted a brow at him. „Well, you have an entire winter to gather your courage, then.“ She jested as he gently laid his hand over hers.

„Come now.“ Vitani's voice ripped Macbeth out of his stupor as he watched the scene before them. „Let's leave this place. There is more i wish to show you.“

„Who was she? The blonde maiden?“ he asked the gargoyle as their surroundings withered away and grew anew, only to reveal the abbey of a nunnery. „Her name was Ellisif. She was the great granddaughter of a viking chieftain, whose son settled here in scotland.“

They now watched a younger self of Vitani, carrying three bundles; praying nuns and a body covered with a bloody sheet in the room behind him.

„She died during childbirth?“

„Yes.“

A new memory unfolded around them: harsh, icy wind and snow blew through the niches and cracks of a deserted shack. A fire burned in the stove, but did little to warm up the three shivering children. They were bundled up in furs and blankets, sheltered in the embrace of a very boney female gargoyle, who futilely tried to provide a little more warmth by rubbing up and down their skinny arms.

A loud 'thud' on the roof and ground later, two male gargoyles entered the single room, carring some meager hares as the only prey of the night.

„How are they doing?“

„Not well.“ stated the scrawny female. „They can't stop coughing, and Alienor's got even worse.“

One of the males took the shivering girl from her, a brown skinned gargoyle with long horns and white hair, unwrapped her from her cocoon of blankets and pressed an ear to her upper back.

„Brother, listen to this.“ He beckoned his tan skinned brother closer, who listened to the girl's breathing, occaisonally interrupted by powerful coughs. „What do you hear?“

„Nothing good.“ he said and wrapped the child back up before cradling her at his chest. „She has pneunomia.“

„So, the child dies as well?“ Macbeth asked as the scenery changed again. „Yes. First Alienor, then Aodh and Ansar.“

A forest unfolds before them, dark and eerie. It was no longer winter, but they did not seem to be in scotland either. Three gargoyles stood in safe distance to what looked like a hermitage, built partially into a cave of a high stone wall; illuminated by the full moon.

„And you are sure to go in there by yourself?“ the brown skinned one inquired.

„Yes, all we know is that this woman is a witch. How can we know she is to be trusted?“ chimed the female in.

„We do not.“ the younger version of Vitani rebuttet. But she is our best shot.“

He approached the hermitage, a large bag in his hand. The door to the house stood open, and as he took a closer look, Macbeth could see the shape of a person inside the dark room.

„Be gone, creature of the night. I did not call for you.“ a etheral voice called him out.

„And yet i am here. Please Milady, my companions and i are in dire need of your help.“

„I counsel only one person, and you are not he. I do not have time for your troubles, gargoyle. Go, resume your nightly hunts and enjoy what little time humanity grants you.“

The gargoyle was not impressed by her words. Instead, he took a step closer and dipped into a small bow.

„All you have is time. I beg you, on the behalf of my children.“ He untied the bag, revealing three little skulls as he laid it out before the doorstep. „Rumor says that you are a necromancer.“

„Maybe. Many children die of famine and disease. What makes these three so special?“

Silence. A rocking chair creaked as the person inside stood up, then extended a hand to pick up one of the skulls. It was pale as that of a corpse, even in the light of the full moon and many tiny runes and symbols were tattoed into the skin. The person seemed to study the skull for a long moment, then asked: „You loved these children dearly, didn't you?“

„We-“

„Not 'we'. You. You loved these human offspring as much as if it was your own, didn't you?“

„I do.“

„No hesitation. Hmm.... i could bring them back, but that comes with a high cost.“

„And what cost might that be, Milady?“

„Nothing less than their immortal souls.“

„And you took that deal?“ Macbeth asked Vitani as they entered a new memory. Oddly enough, he recognized the voice of this 'Necromancer', but was unsure where to put it.

„Wouldn't you have? If it meant to safe the live of your child?“

„I probably would have, yes.“ He answered without hesitation. If he had the chance to turn back time... he would sacrifice everything it took.

„Let us revisit one more memory.“

They stood in a crypt, dark and gloomy. Even though he could not physically feel the cold, Macbeth was unable to surpress a shudder. A young maiden gracefully walked down the steps, only to halt before a stone sacorphagus. The lid had been forcefully shoven off, now shattered into three large pieces on the floor. Many smaller ones, a different kind of stone, littered the tiles next to it. Macbeth could make out a horn and hand among them. Clearly the remains of a shattered gargoyle. With a heavy sigh, the young woman ran her hands through the piles of dust and stone before she looked inside the sarcophagus.

Macbeth dared to spie over her shoulder, only to be greeted by a horrible sight: a woman laid inside, bedded on silken cushions soaked in blood. A large pole stuck through her neck and someone had cut out her heart. Still clinging to a handful of rubble with one hand, she gently petted the mutilated corpse's cheek; leaving streaks of dust behind as she shed heavy tears.

„Mother?“ A young Berlind joined the grieving lady in the crypt. She kept a respectful distance and looked down on the piles of stone in great sorrow. „So, the rumor is true?“

„I am afraid so. Both Laurel and her guardian have been killed during the daytime.“

Shoulders slumping, she took a deep breath before facing her 'daughter'. „So now, we are truly the last ones, mother?“

„We truly are. Gather the others. Let them spread word: every gargoyle who wishes to accompany us is welcome. But by the next full moon, we shall leave this plane of existence.“

Chapter Text

„Why did my son never tell me any of this?“ Macbeth asked as Vitani tapped the crystal once more, bringing them back into reality.

„He feared your judgement. And that of the Queen. That you would resent him for falling in love with a peasant.“

„Never. Never could i resent my son. Especially over something so trivial.“

„From todays perspective, yes. But how would you have judged nine hundred years ago?“

„Not different.“ Macbeth rebutted without hesitation. „My deal with the devil left me... disillusioned about society. Even back then. If i had known... Gruoch and i would have welcomed his love and their children with open arms.“

The tan gargoyle laid a hand on his shoulder, a futile attempt to comfort him. „Luach and Ellisif loved each other dearly. He would have married her the very moment you gave him your approval. But in the end, his hesitation saved both his love and their children. Had they been present at the second attack on castle Moray, all of them would have died.“

All of this was... a lot to take in. Vitani looked at the old king, how he stared into nothingness, processing what he had just whitnessed.

„Why? Why did you come to their aid, after betraying us to the English? You tried to ease the guilt or what?“

Dread spread in Vitani's gut, bubbling up as a feeling of nausea. He had hoped to dodge that bullet, but to no avail.

„I- i was... not present. Luach asked me to ensure Ellisif's safety during the night, considering how she was an unwed, expecting woman living alone. I was conflicted wether i should comply to his wishes or join my clan in battle, but chose the former. So, i missed a great deal of my clans affairs, but also evaded Canmore's attack. In the end, i had to deal with the fact that i lost not only my clan, but also my best friends the following spring.“

Shoulders slumping, he let out a heavy sigh. „What Demona did to your family... it is unforgivable. And i thought, maybe i could redeem myself by staying as your son's aid. After his and Ellisif's deaths i thought, well, those three children are all i have left from my dearest friends. My siblings. And never could i left them on their own. No matter the cost.“

Macbeth did not answer, only continued to stare into the dark sea below them.

„Please Macbeth: if you're unwilling to forgive me, fine. But at least try to get to know Alienor and her brothers. Maybe it would bring you all a bit of comfort.“

---------------------------

„And those 'contacts' of yours. Are they trustworthy?“ Elisa asked as she and Leah approached a dingy old pub, nestled in the stoney walls under one of the many bridges in Brooklyn.

„Well, i would not trust them with my social security number if i where you. But they won't snitch on us or stab us in the back if that's what you mean.“

A little bell chimed as Leah pushed open the heavy wooden door and the two women stepped inside the warm pub. It was almost too warm, the air overheated and stuffy, filled with the stench from cigarettes, cheap perfume and resignation. Someone was strumming a few notes on a piano and a busty waitress maneuvered around the ratty tables in the room.

„Hi Doreen, how's it going?“ Leah approached the waitress with a bright smile, who was hapharzardly listening to the story a old drunkard slurred at her.

„Leah! Haven't seen you in ages. Same old, same old. What can i do for ya?“

„Just came by to ask if my two lucky charms are in here tonight.“

Doreen let out an amused snort and rolled her eyes. „You'll think those two boozers would ever miss the happy hour? Back booth, as usual. If you hurry, you and your girl might be able to get a conversation going before they end up under the table.“

„We'll try. Thanks Doreen.“

Dodging some touchy patrons of the bar, Elisa followed her friend to a booth hidden in the more shady corners of the pub. „So i'm your girl now?“

„Nah. Just Doreen and her humor. But like i told you back in Flagstaff: if i ever wanted to try it with a woman, you'd be the first i ask.“ Leah replied with a wink. „Well, well, well. What have we here? Two survivors of the vietnam war or what?“ She grinned with crossed arms as they reached the booth. Two men laid slumbed over the table with their pints still clutched in one hand each. Both had long hair; one straw blonde and the other auburn. „Or just two dutiful american citicens having an after-work beer?“

„-you stupid?“ mumbled the blonde one. „I'm norwegian.“

„Yeah. An' i-“ the auburn haired hiccuped „-'m finnish."

„Right now, you are drunk as hell. But not too drunk. My friend and i need a favor from you guys.“

„'s 1200 bucks for one hour. 3000 for the entire night.“ the blonde one slurred against the table. Elisa put on a sublime smile. Now she had some leverage for negotiations.

„You're aware that prostitution is illegal in New York?“

„Don't worry, missy. Agent Spot here will bail out both of us.“ The blonde haired man heaved himself up from his seat, grinning half lidded at Elisa as he held onto the table's edge to keep his balance. Aside from his long mane of blonde hair, he sported an impressive beard and deep blue eyes. Somehow, Elisa would bet she had seen this guy before.

„You look... familiar.“ The man shot her a bright smile.

„Thanks. I do porn.“

The triumphant smile slipped her for a second, but it was enough for the man to pick up. He leaned a bit closer, a wave of his alcohol-drenched breath wafted around her face and made her eyes water. „How does that sound, missy? Three grand and i'll give you a night you'll never forget.“

„Quit it! Nobody fucks any of you tonight.“ Leah snapped and rolled her eyes. „We need informations. Are you in the right state to talk?“

„Sure, let me-“

But as the guy went to straighten his back, he stumbled back into his seat, bounced back in the cushions and slammed his head on the table.

„Okay, shit. Well, at least we still have-“ A loud 'thump!' interrupted Leah as the other man fell straight out the booth and landed flat on the grimey floor. Both women stared at each other for a second, then the two drunks on the floor.

„Do we need to call an ambulance, or...?“ Loud snores resonated from both men.

„Nah, they're fine. Seems like we're six beers too late.“ Leah huffed annoyed as she pulled out a sharpy from her jacket, scribbled something on the blonde guy's forehead, then marched over to the bar. „Keep the change, Doreen.“ She said as she paid the two drunk's tab.

„Always do.“ The busty woman grinned before she resumed her current task of cleaning beer glasses.

„Wait a sec! You just let them lie there like that? What if they have alcohol poisoning?“ Elisa asked as she followed her friend back out into the chilly night.

„They sure do. But don't worry about them, Elisa. I've known them ever since i joined the special devision. They always bounce back. And they are walking criminal records. Know every baddie running around in NYC.“ She shot Elisa an ominous look. „How do you think the FBI found out about the Manhattan Clan in the first place?“

„What? You mean, those guys knew about them all this time?“

„Yeah.“ Leah said as they reached the car. „The blonde guy, Hakon. He told me everything about the Wyvern clan before i came to New York.“

„Wait a minute, hold on. That guy was Hakon? The Hakon? The one who destroyed Goliath's clan?!“

„He sure was.“ A sullemn mood spread over Leah's face as she fastened her seatbelt. „Not alone, of course. But he was the one who gave the order. Didn't hesitate to smash some gargoyles himself though. I don't know what his sentiments towards them are today, but regardless of history, his information about Goliath and other gargoyles around the world have been pretty accurate and valuable.“

Elisa drove her car up the highway a little faster than allowed. „How can this guy still be alive? I thought Goliath and Hudson took care of his spirit months ago.“

„'Months ago'? Impossible. I have worked with Hakon and Rosiel for nearly six years now.“

„And Rosiel is-“

„-the other guy at the table. Both are pretty well versed when it comes to anything supernatural or extraterrestial.“

Elisa shook her head in disbelief. „This is all totally crazy. But i know one thing for sure: Goliath and the others won't be too thrilled about those news.“

-------------------------

The inesscant ringing of the phone was irritating.

Hyena stopped her training, waiting for the ringing to stop for a fifth time. The answering machine went on, and the voice of an elderly woman spoke on the record. Finally deciding it was futile to dodge her attempts any longer, she went to pick up the call.

„Heeyy... mom. How are you?“

„Hannah? Oh, it's so good to hear your voice. Your brother and you, you should call your old mother more often. You know how much i worry.“

Annoyed, Hyena rolled her eyes. Her parents were ordinary people: lawyers from Vancouver, with a nice family home. A dog, two cats, picked fence and all. Boring as hell.

„Mom, Jackal and i know our stuff. No need to worry.“

„I'm your mother. I will always worry about you and Jack, Hannah. Especially after those... modifications you two got.“

„Any particular reason for you to call? Or just to criticise our lifestyle?“

„Lifestyle, thats what you call it? Whatever. You are old enough to make your own decisions.“ Her mother sighed more to herself than to her daughter. „I called because i wanted to ask if you two have heard anything from your brother lately?“

„No. Don't worry about him, mom. Ryan is a pro. Wherever he got dispatched to, i'm sure he can handle himself.“ It was true. If there was one person who could survive on his own even in the remotest places on earth, it was Ryan. „Thought he was backscratching with the FBI lately? Maybe he got bored and bugged off.“ Her mother let out a displeased huff.

„Ryan is trying to turn his life around, Hannah. Something both you and Jack could take an example from.“ On the other side of the line, Hyena rolled her eyes. „No, last i heard from him was almost half a year ago, after he took on a case here in canada.“

„So my older brother went missing and you only call half a year later?!“ she snapped at her mother. „Do not give me that attitude, Hanna! You two wouldn't even know any of us was still alive if we wouldn't regulary check on you! I call because the FBI won't give your father and me any information, so i thought you could use some of your 'contacts' to look out for Ryan.“

„Ugh, fine. We'll see what we can do.“

Without saying goodbye, Hyena slammed the receiver back on the phone and let out a low growl. This was so typical for their parents. Nothing Jackal and she did had ever been good enough; every grade, hobby or friends got compared to Ryan's. Ryan was the golden son, the darling child, the brightest star and all that shit. And despite all the praising and spoiling of their beloved first-born child, Ryan was the one who joined special forces, deserted and became a merceneray. Plus, he had been the one who introduced Jackal and Hyena to this profession. Who trained them and showed them everything they know.

Yes, Ryan could abandon his country and family, do drugs, become a criminal, influence his little siblings in such a negative way and still be the darling angel son. Their parents didn't even forgive his siblings if they spilled a glass of milk.

„Was that our dear mother?“ Jackal's voice echoed over as he entered the training hall.

„Yeah.“

„Dad had his third heart attack?“

„No.“ Hyena crossed her arms and turned to face her brother. „Did you know Ryan went missing?“

„Huh? Thought he was running around with the FBI or something?“

„Yeah. Mom says he was on a case in canada and disappeared about six months ago. Asked me if we could have a lookout for him.“

Jackal stopped his task of applying some oil to his knuckles. „Half a year? And when did they plan on telling us?“

„Probably when they find his chopped-up corpse in a brothel.“ Hyena sauntered over to her twin and leaned against the wall. „Seriously, if those old geezers resort to ask us for help, something bad must've happened to him.“

It was an unusal outburst of emotion as Jackal let out a shout and threw a punch to the steel wall; his fist going straight through it.

„Your insurance covering this?“

„Fuck that gig with the Quarrymen. This is more important.“ Jackal growled as he stared down the hole in the wall.

Chapter Text

Inviting someone for a cup of coffee was a natural way to engage in a conversation and get to know each other. For humans, at least. It had been the most awkward invitation he ever endured as Macbeth invited Alienor, but on the other hand: who had ever shared a hot beverage with a vampire? Do they even drink coffee or tea like humans?

Much to his surprise, she agreed to a meeting with him, although only after sunset. So here he was, not-so-subtly ogling his granddaughter over the rim of his cup as he took another sip. His granddaughter. Of course, he never knew for certain if Luach was his biological son, but even if not: he didn't care. And the more time he spend with Alienor, the more he saw his son in her. She had his curls, his dark brown hair, the same grin and frown. The way she talked, her ideals and character: it all reminded him of Luach. Except for her eyes.

„It was you.“

She looked up from the menue she was studying.

„The young woman i crashed into near the MET some weeks ago. It was you.“

She shot him a cocky smile. „I'm surprised you didn't recognize me sooner back in your mansion, Auld yin. What gave me away?“

„Your eyes.“

„Huh?“

„Your eyes. That's what captivated me so much that day. It was as if i'm looking into my Gruoch's eyes again.“

„Lady Gruoch...“ Alienor thoughtfully mustered the cup of hot chocolate infront of her, then took a careful sip. Her eyes widened in appreciation as the sweet beverage hit her tounge. „Vitani told me about her. He said she was my grandmother, and very beautiful. But he didn't knew her as well as you did. What was she like?“ Macbeth took a moment to collect his fondest memories of his late wife. Memories, originally filled with joy, but now tainted with grief and despair everytime he revisited them. As if a heavy shroud laid over them and rendered him unable to remember the love and joy they used to bring him, so long ago.

„She was one of a kind. Sweet and gentle, with a kind heart and concern for everyone around her. Regardless if nobleman or poorest beggar, human or gargoyle: she met everyone with kindness and compassion. But she was also brave and courageous. Stubborn to a degree. Yes, one of a kind indeed.“

He allowed himself to get lost in his memories for some time, until the feeling of soft fingers on his own ripped him out of his reminiscing. Alienor's pallid skin contrasted starkly against his tan as she softly petted is hand. „I am sure she loved you just as much as you loved her.“ she comforted him.

„Still do.“ Macbeth smiled as he let his gaze to wander outside through the cafè's window. The sky had turned a deep white, indicating the arrival of the first snow. „What about you, Alienor? Your guardian gave me a quick summary, but how has your life been in the past centuries?“ The vampire shrugged.

„Existence is pretty bleak these days. We idle away; killing time with sleeping and drawing and fighting. Schemes to ursurp us are spun by lower members of our clans and we allow it to a certain degree. It is amusing to see how they try and fail, but ultimately those games grow tiring. When one is immortal, even the most exciting ways to pass time become boring.“

„Yes, this is a problem well known to me.“

They sat together in silence, when a thought crossed Alienor's mind.

„Oh, but regardless of my mood i still enjoy a long trailride on horseback!“

„Is that so?“ Macbeth grinned at her. „Think you could last a fast hack through the forrest?“

Alienor reciprocated his grin with one of her own. „What, is that a challenge, old man? Not to brag, but i am a very skilled rider.“

„Well if that is so: i own a few good horses. Are you up to it, lassie? I dare you to join me on a hunt.“

„Gladly.“ Macbeth smiled as Alienor's smirk grew wider before she took another sip of her cocoa.

„What about your brothers? Do they enjoy riding as much as you?“

„They do. But Aodh is more into fighting and sparring, while Ansar loves everything star related.“ She settled her cup down with a small 'clink'. „You know: like an astronomer.“

„So, judging from your prior stories about them, Ansar is kind of a bookworm while Aodh prefers to deal with things more hands-on.“

„Indeed.“ A sullemn look spread over Alienor's pallid face. „This is why they fight so often. Aodh's a capable, dangerous fighter. Highly skilled. Not without honor, but he lacks any sense of mercy. If he is set on killing his opponent, even i have a hard time to deter him from his goal. Ansar on the other hand is... more sneaky about it. He lacks Aodh's bodily strength and makes up for it with his cunning.“ She emptied her cup and licked some whipped cream from her upper lip, allowing Macbeth a quick glance at her sharp fangs. „My baby brother has some serious brains on him. Maybe he's even a little mad. Still, he is able to outsmart even the most intelligent and cautious, coming up with innovative ideas and plots. Aodh has a hard time respecting that. It's not that he is stupid, he is a master when it comes to battle strategies. But like you said: he prefers to reach his goals hands-on, not by scheming. And Ansar views him as little more than a bullying jerk.“

„How sad.“ Macbeth muttered before also finishing his coffee. „I believe that brothers should be friends, not enemies.“

„They are! Or rather: they used to be.“ It may be a trick of the cafè's light, but he could swear that the fine, black blood vessels on Allie's cheeks got a bit more prominent as she spoke. „We three used to be inseperatable. Until-“

Inesscant beeping cut her off, causing Macbeth to rummage through the pockets of his jacket. „Forgive me...“ A quick glance at his phone's screen made him roll his eyes. „Agent Tahanet, i'm in the middle of a conversation. What? Oh- sorry Detective Maza. Why would you happen to have Agent Tahanet's cellphone?“ A loud noise on the other side of the line made him cringe and he could see how Allie's ears twitched with curiosity, even when partly hidden under her long, curly mane of hair. „Okay- okay, calm down. I'm on my way. Yes, I- Please, calm down Detective. I'm on my way. Yes, i'll hurry. I am very sorry, but there seems to be an issue with wich an acquaintance of mine needs some assistance.“

Allie shot him another cocky smile and leaned on her arms against the surface of the table. „In your long life, did you fail to notice how a woman tends to get agitated even further when a man tells her to 'calm down'?“

Macbeth huffed amused. „Apparently. Must be a problem of the male gender.“ A thought crossed his mind as he put on his jacket. „But you could accompany me, if you like?“

„I would love to.“ Allie replied cheerfully.

-----------------------------

The antique chair shattered into splinters as it hit the stone wall.

Goliath towered over Leah, his claws around her neck, chest heaving up and down as he tried to come back to his senses. It took the whole clan to hold him back as he spotted the two men in the dining hall; recognizing one of them immediately.

„YOU KNEW HE IS STILL ALIVE AND DARE TO SPEAK TO MY CLAN?!“ Goliath emphasized his words by giving Leah a good shake, slamming her head against the tiles before closing his claws tighter around her neck.

„Goliath! Please! Let. Her. Go!“

„She's right Goliath! It's not worth it!“ Elisa and Angela pleaded as they tried to loosen his grip, when a sudden force send them all flying backwards; Goliath hitting the wall with a sickening crunch.

„Impressive, Allie. But i suggest a little less kinetic force next time.“ Macbeth walked into the room, arms crossed and a pleased smile on his face. The source of the mysterious blast was the young woman next to him, her hand outstretched and the same blueish-green energy Berlind liked to use wafting around her fingers.

„But it did the job, didn't it?“ She shot Macbeth a bright smile as she bend her fingers to pull Goliath back on his feet as she walked further into the room. „Now i understand why the mortals called for your aid.“

„Oh no. First agent Spot, now the Queen of the Damned 2.0.“

„Yeah. Want's to meet on a saturday, ruining a perfect night for buisness. Rude.“

The cause of Goliath's agitation came from the two men seated at the large dining table: both were completely unbothered by the drama before them, instead munching on a burger menu each. One of them was on the more slender side, wiry muscled and with luscious long, auburn curls. The other was sturdier, with more muscles; his blonde hair falling over his shoulders. He finished his drink before wiping his mouth unelegantly with the back of his hand when Hudson noticed the large red blotch stretching over his forehead.

„Seems like someone already gave ye a good beating, clan slaughterer. Deserved, not only considering the fact that you broke into our home.“

„Huh? Oh, this?“ The blonde guy pointed on his forehead. „Nah, it's just ink. And if anyone got what they deserved, it's Agent Dalmatian.“ He shot Leah a nasty glare. „If you have the urge to write on someone's forehead, better not do it with a Edding marker next time.“

„You wouldn't notice the message otherwise.“ Leah coughed and rubbed her neck. „I know neither of you want the other to be here, but it it nescessary. Both for my case as well as for your clan, Goliath.“ She stumbled back on her feet before introducing the two men to the others. „Everyone, those are Hakon and Rosiel. Yes, the Hakon.“ She reassured a speechless Nashville. „They agreed to help us. Both in Ryan's case as well as in the future. And they have some intels about the Quarrymen, the Pack and other fractions you might want to know about.“

„ONLY because Leah asked us to help.“ Rosiel chimed in, bribing a snarling Bronx with a handful of fries; who, much to Goliath's dismay, accepted them and allowed the man to pat his head in return.

„Yeah. Don't take this as an admission of guilt.“ Hakon snapped and dipped some fries into his milkshake. Allie sauntered over to them before hopping on the table, leaning back on her arms before she placed a foot on Hakon's chest and pressed him back into his chair, refraining him from eating.

„Excuse you?“ he muttered around his mouthful of fries.

„How come you know me, viking? We never met.“

„How do you-“

„Oh please.“ She waved a hand dimissively. „Your entire appearance matches that of citicens from nothern europe. You don't care standing face to face with a furious gargoyle, meaning you are not afraid or rather reckless about getting injured. I can faintly see a hand-pricked tattoo through the fabric of your shirt, maybe of ritualistic or simply personal preference. And lastly, you smell different than any human in this city. As well as your companion. Similar to a vampire, still, not the same. Long dead and yet, alive. Meaning: you are a eternal. A undying human. Cursed, most likely.“

Bushy eyebrows drawn up, Hakon shot the lady a impressed smile. „I can tell the Big Guy did not exaggerate. You are a smart one.“ He gently took Allie's ankle and moved her foot from his chest. His fingers lingered a second too long on her leg for Macbeth's taste, causing the hair in his neck to stand up and a hot, angry feeling bubbled in his stomach.

„Let's just say: our boss knows you and gushes over how magnificent you are. We never met in person, my lady. But one doesn't need to be a magical being to recognize you as a force of nature. The raw power surrounds you like a veil, impossible to ignore for both mortal and undying.“

Allie smiled pleased until Elisa cleared her throat.

„All fine and well, but i still want to know why you trespassed and caused my friends here-“ she pointed at Goliath and the other gargoyles „-to trash the entire dining room and nearly commit a captial crime against Leah.

Hakon crossed his arms behind his neck and unmannerly rested his feet on the table. A haughty grin spread over his face as he noticed how the gesture rankled Goliath's haunches, especially when Rosiel mimicked him.

„Well, about that guy you seek, this Ryan Kuhn: he was last seen in Dawson, Canada.“

„We already know that. Leah told us he reopened the murder cases there.“ Brooklyn snapped annoyed, but Rosiel answered by throwing a half-full cup of coke at him. It narrowly missed him, hitting Lex instead.

„Charming.“ He muttered and futilely tried to shake off the sugary liquid.

„No interruptions!“ Rosiel barked with bared teeth.

„-as i said, he was last seen in Dawson.“ Hakon reached inside the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a beige envelope. Various photographs and small cassettes spilled out as he threw it on the table. „Surveillance cameras picked him up at the old crime scenes, as well as in a motel and some grocery stores until he vanished. We reached out to some contacts and all things considered, first: it is safe to assume that he never left the town, and second: the murders were never comitted by a vampire.“

Elisa took a look at the photographs before examining one of the cassettes. „But Berlind already confessed that she and some other vampires committed them.“ A loud laugh echoed through the room.

„Berlind was tortured, Detective. Every information she gave you is invalid.“ Macbeth rebutted. „A prisoner who spills information under torture is not to be trusted. One will confess anything only to end the pain.“

„Sooo... why bother?“ All eyes settled on Broadway. „I mean: if this Ryan-guy never left Canada and no vampire threatens NYC, why do we still waste energy on this caste? No offence, Leah.“ Now it was Allie who mimicked Rosiel's action; ripping the cup Hakon was drinking from out his grasp and threw it at the turquoise gargoyle. But other than Rosiel, she actually hit her target. Hakon eyed first the soaked gargoyle, then his empty hand in offense before continuing.

„As i said: the murders were not connected to vampires, but to something similar in nature and magic. We cashed in a few favours to get the autopsy reports and noticed a discrepancy between the victims. Rosiel?“

„Oh, yes. Just a second...“ Rosiel seized his scratching behind Bronx' ear, who let out a little whine in return, before he pulled out a stainy, folded stack of papers. „Chrm, chrm. The victims all missed their blood, wich would lead to the conclusion of agent Tahanet's unit that it had to be vampires, but we noticed that each victim missed something else: one specific inner organ.“ Disgusted looks spread over the faces of all present in the room; safe for Hakon, Allie and Macbeth. „Each victim missed a different organ and never the same twice. One can basically built a new human out of that.“

„So? How would that information help us? If it was no vampire, the culprits are most likely long dead!“ Lexington chimed in, keeping a close eye on both Allie and Rosiel in case they found another projectile to throw. „It's important because-“

„This was no mindless slaughter.“ Macbeth muttered as he absentmindedly stroked his beard. His gaze was settled somewhere on the tiles as he got lost in his thoughts. „It was a ritual.“

„A ritual?“ Goliath asked, more comfortable with adressing him than any of the two men at the table.

„Yes. A summoning. For a demon.“

„First vampires, now demons? This whole thing is getting a little absurd, don't you think?“ Elisa stated as he looked over the evidence provided by Hakon and Rosiel. Allie, who had been comfortably chatting with the former viking chieftain, shot her an arrogant glare. „And why would you say that, my dear? Just because your mortal mind can't fathom that there are beings beyond your comprehention?“ She overflew one of the reports and crime scene photos. „What would you say, Auld yin?“ Macbeth took a look at the stainy photograph.

„Looks like a Vocare Malum. The attempt to summon a great demon.“

„I concur. Probably a Duke of Hell, judging from the number and different ages of the victims.“

Goliath scratched his head as he pondered over their words. „Hmm.... you lost me.“

„A Vocare Malum is a extremely evil ritual, during wich the participans harvest organs and blood from their victims in order to summon a specific demon. Depending on the demon one wishes to summon, you need organs from humans born under in a specific month, year, day, time and moon.“ Macbeth explained.

„Yes. And it get's more complicated the mightier the demon one wishes to summon.“ Allie agreed. „There are many ways, variations and names for the ritual. Sometimes the organs get burned, eaten or ground into paste. No matter the preperation, the goal is always the same: summoning a powerful demon and allow it to posess your body.“

„So it is a blood sacrifice?“

„Not exactly.“ Macbeth answered. „If a mortal get's posessed by a demon, it's power will eventually destroy the host's body. During such a ritual, one basically 'doubles' their own organs in order to withstand the inevitable destruction a bit longer.“

Allie twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she relished the disgusted and horrified looks around her. „Judging from the mass of victims, their birthdates and -moons, i dare to say again: this might be the preparation of a very grandé summoning. Could be that the ingrediens were collected and the participans waited for a certain moon or planetary alignment. Wich is why we need some experts on astronomy, astrology and surveillance.“ She reached into her coat's pocket and pulled out a shining green crystal, embedded in a frame of gold. It looked similar to the one Vitani had used back in Macbeth's mansion. After tapping the surface three times, Allie put it back in her pocket, then waited for something.

Nothing happened, until a few seconds later, the old grandfather's clock on the other side of the room struck the full hour. A faint glow illuminated it and a something -or someone- reached out of it. Two young men who stepped out of the clock as if it was a portal; took a moment to compose themselves, then gazed around until they spotted Allie. Ignoring the mortals, they crossed the room in quick strides and dropped down on one knee, bowing their heads infront of her.

„Sister. You demanded our assistance?“ The taller one asked.

„Indeed i did, brothers.“ Beckoning them to rise, she handed him the list of victims and their birthdates. „Aodh, Ansar: we have the suspicion that those mortals are victims of a Vocare Malum. I need you to confirm the claim and maybe give us a hunch about the demon to be called during the summoning.“

Aodh took the list from his sister to inspect it, but Ansar snatched it out of his grasp, earning a displeased growl in return before he studied his prize. Macbeth took the opportunity to take in their features: both were Allie's brothers, that was undenieable. They sported similar curls, the same finely boned faces and strong eyebrows. But Ansar's eyes were not green, but a warm hazel; while Aodh's were grey and steely. The latter was also far taller than his siblings, nearly towering a whole head over Macbeth. He was heavier built than his brother, muscular and strong. Ansar on the other hand was slimmer, wirier, and just a tad taller than his sister. Both men also had darker hair than Allie: were her's was the same dark brown as Luach's, Aodh and Ansar had hair as black as the night, shining in the light of the dining room.

„Hmm... this is interesting. As far as i can tell from the birthdates, all those mortals have been born under a certain planetary alignment as well as been slain under an equally important moon. I will need to have a further look at it to conclude wich demon was meant to be summoned.“

„How long will it take, brother?“

Ansar tilted his head, his shiny long hair falling over his shoulder. „If i can borrow this-“ he waved the list in his hand „-not long. A few hours. Or a day, at maximum.“

„Very good. Study it and provide me with any information that could prove nescessary later. Aodh.“ The tall vampire tore his piercing gaze from the viking behind his sister and respectfully bowed his head.

„I need you to establish global surveillance. Nothing enters or leaves this world without my notice.“

„As you wish, sister. I will send my Destroyers into every corner of the earth.“

„Wonderful!“ The vampiress clapped her hands in delight. „But before you do that, we four need to have a little chit-chat.“ She shot Macbeth a knowing smile before turning her attention to Leah. „I dare say we are done here, agent?“

Leah blinked at the vampires as she tried to comprehent the situation. „Uh, yeah. Yes, of course. So you three will gather the information needed while we others....?“

„-do nothing.“ Allie finished. „It is best to just lay low. People performing this kind of rituals are very secretive. It could be that this 'Ryan' has disturbed them enough to make them get rid of him. We shall contact you as soon as we get new intelligence.“ She shot them one last smile as they dispersed; following Macbeth with her brothers in tow.

--------------------------

Chapter Text

Toronto, Mother's Day 1996

„Oh Ryan, i'm so glad at least you visit your old mother on her special day!“

Ryan's lips thinned as he surpressed a snide remark while he set the table. His mother valued holidays and birthdays very much and so it was like a stab to her heart when both Jack and Hannah excused themselves this year. But Ryan simply felt too commited to his family to leave her all alone today.

„No worries, mum. But they called, didn't they?“

„Yes, yes.“ his mother waved her hand at him. „They send me a card and flowers, too. But one might think that your children visit, even after becoming TV-stars.“ She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head in disbelief. „I mean: what will the other ladies at church say when i tell them that my own children care so little about their mother?“

Ryan let out a long sigh before he took the pot from the stove and settled it on the dining table. A jingle echoed over from the TV, were his father was seated in his armchair.

„Dad? Come now, supper's ready.“ No response. Rolling his eyes, Ryan sauntered over, blocking the view at the flickering screen. „Oi! Wake up, old man!“ His father let out a mixture between a snore and a startled grumble as Ryan pinched his shoulder. „Coming, coming...“ Heaving his weight out of the chair was strenuous, still, he refused to take his son's offered hand.

'Suit yourself.' Ryan thought. Even just recently released from hospital: his father was simply too proud to accept any help.

„Uhh, what's this?“

„It's green soup. With broccoli, potatoes, celery, a hint of mint...“ Mrs. Kuhn pressed out between pursed lips as she watched her husband ladle up some soup only to let it drop back on his plate. „What? No meat?“

„No, no meat!“ she rebutted, her voice two octaves higher. „The doctor said not too much fat and red meat for you. Do you want a third heart attack? And besides: it's awful enough that I had to cook for you on Mother's Day!“

„Why shouldn't you?“

Ryan quickly drowned out his parent's growing argument as he dug in. The soup was like most things his mother cooked: bland and overseasoned at the same time, with a slightly burned aroma. Not that he complained though. Her cooking improved a great deal since his youth.

Taking a sip from his water, he first noticed the soapy taste, followed by a burning sensation as he swallowed. Weird. Ignoring the quarreling adults, he went to pour his glas into the sink and refilled it with some of the bottled water from the fridge.

Still, as he returned to his seat, the burning sensation remained, now spreading over his entire stomach. He was suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings: the loud tic-tac of the clock, the sirring of the refridgerator, the creaking of the old wooden floor. All of it mixed into a hurtful cacophony inside his head, all while his guts churned and cramped. And the golden cross resting on his mother's blouse suddenly burned brightly in the corner of his eye.

„Excuse me.“ he muttered, unnoticed by his parents. Their argument had grown into a full blown fight in no time, both of them now screamed at each other over the table.

Ryan tried to keep his posture as he climbed up the stairs, only to break in a short sprint after reaching the upper floor. He slammed the bathroom door shut behind himself before he fell to his knees just in time to empty his stomach into the toilet.

Hot as molten lead it burned in his throat and on his tounge as much more vomit poured out of his mouth than he had eaten the entire day. The green of his soup was now an ugly brown; Splattering all over the porcelaine, the floor and the disgusting pink tiles on the wall. Cold sweat covered his body as Ryan rested his forehead on the rim of the toilet seat, when he felt something else. It was similar to the nausea before he had to puke, but not the same. As if something was clawing it's way out of his body.

Dry heaving a few times, he felt some kind of obstacle in his throat. He remembered that one time many years ago, when their dog had a long tapeworm and the doctor gave it some medicine to kill the parasite and old Buster had to poop it out. It had come out the other end, sure. But the poor thing had struggled the same way Ryan was now. Panic overcame him as Ryan reached inside past his tounge, as deep into his throat as he could, only to grasp something. Something hard. Something that twitched as soon as he managed to grab it with his thumb and index finger.

Tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, Ryan pulled until he could get a real grip on the strange thing. It wriggled in his grasp and scratched his throat as he pulled and pulled and pulled until he -finally- felt the relief as his oesophagus was free at last. Blinking through his tears, he tried to get a look at whatever had been inside him. A yelp escaped him when he did not see a flat, pale tapeworm as he half expected, but the black head of a centipede. It was at least as big as a dollar coin, with twitching antenna and clacking pincers. The body of this beast was at least half a meter long and two fingers thick. Ryan only got a quick glance at it before he hastily pulled the flush.

Scuttering away, to the other side of the room, he tried to regain control over his breathing as he leant against the cool wall. He was covered in cold sweat, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead as he came down from his adrenaline high.

„Ryan? Darling, is everything alright? Hurry, or you'll miss dessert!“

He nearly missed the sing-sangy voice of his mother through the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

„S-sure, i-i'll be down in a minute...“

-------------------------------

„I do not understand humanities obsession with such customs.“

Ansar muttered as he observed how Berlind used her telekenisis to lift a ornate angel up to it's place on top of the christmas tree in the main dining room. „It is almost christmas, milord. Christians all around the world celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.“

„I am aware of the lore behind christianity. I simply do not understand the obsession of the americans with it.“ He reached into the cardboard box on the table, then twirled a pretty star-ornament between his claws, captivated by the way the light twinkled in the intricately cutted glass.

„It once used to be the highest holiday after easter for christianity, but nowadays it's mostly a commercial cash grab.“ Macbeth said and instructed Berlind where to hang up the next ornament. A crunching sound from across the room caused him to avert his attention from the tree and focus it on Allie instead, who was fully immersed in the book howering in the air before her. While reading, she enjoyed a bowl of cereal; the colourful sugary Froot Loops quickly becoming her favourite.

„Allie? Allie. ALIENOR!“

„Ugh! What? What happened?!“

„I thought we had an agreement? No more food until christmas eve!“ Macbeth grumbled displeased, arms crossed over his chest before he took the bowl from her.

„He is right, my Queen.“ Vitani chimed in from his place up on a high shelf. „You know the consequences if you ingest to much of the mortals cuisine.“ Allie let out a annoyed huff and placed her head on her hands in a very un-queen-like manner. In fact, she looked more like a sulking teenager. „You are no fun. And besides, i never over ate in my un-life before. Not like a certain someone.“ Aodh shot his sister a displeased sneer from his place near the glittering tree. „That was one time. Once!“

„Sure and we will never let you forget it!“ Allie reciprocated his frown with a haughty grin. „Ain't that right, Ansar?“

„Hmm? Oh, yes. Sure.“ Ansar muttered as he resumed his task of studying what looked like the observation notes provided by their clans. A weathered book with a faded cover of scarlet velvet laid before him as he scribbled onto what was like the tenth sheet of paper, along with a star chart and a moon calendar. „Sister, i think i know what demon is meant to be called upon in the Vocare Malum.“ He flipped through a few pages of the scarlet book, then turned it for the others to see: a nix-like creature was crudely scribbled under a summoning chant with sharp ink-strokes.

„It is Vepar, a Great Duke of Hell.“

Now he got Alienor's attention. In a quick and fluid motion, she was at her brother's side, taking a good look at the depicted demon. Berlind and Aodh joined them, Vitani climbed down from his observation post and Macbeth looked over Ansar's shoulder before he asked „Who is this 'Vepar'? I have heard of the demons of the Ars Goetia, but never studied them intensely.“

„As a Duke of Hell, Vepar stands in Hell's hirachy under the nine Kings, but over the Princes. He is often depicted as a mermaid, nix or siren, since his domain are the oceans and waters.“ Ansar stated. „He has 29 legions of demons under his command and can kill mankind with putrefying wounds and sores in a span of three days, causing it to fester with maggots and worms, but is also able to cure his victims immediately if he pleases. What do we make out of this revelation, sister?“

A broad grin spread over Alienor's face, revealing her sharp fangs and black gums. She suddenly looked very sinsiter and triumphant.

„I have to say: these news are really the best we received in a long time. There is no way we can let this chance pass.“ Her expression got a bit more serious. Berlind pressed a hand to her long-dead heart and pinned her gaze to the sigil crudely scribbled in a corner of the page. „Mother. Should we inform the mortals and the gargoyles?“

„Absolutely not!“ Aodh blurted out and slammed his fist on the table. „We cannot risk them messing this opportunity up!“

„Sorry to interrupt-“ Macbeth asked, standing there somewhat lost, the bowl of cereal still in one hand „-but what is so special about this demon, other than he is mighty powerful?“

„Auld yin, what is one of our most crippling weaknesses?“ Allie asked.

„Sunlight. And water.“

„Indeed. We overcame the sensitivity to sunlight ages ago. As soon as we reach adulthood, the sun's rays cannot harm us anymore. But water... water is deadly to us in any event. Except-“ she laid a hand on his shoulder „-except if we had the chance to absorb the power from a demon as mighty as Zepar.“

„Allie, i think i don't follow.“

„You must know, co-ogha: we vampires do not age gradually like humans. We fall into deep states of sleep, similar to pupation of insects, then emerge in a new state of evolution and with new abilities.“

„We call them the 'Dark Gifts'.“ Aodh added before Berlind continued.

„Our bat form, for example. Lady Alienor's ability to shift through bars and fences. Lord Aodh's ability to ensnare and crush enemys with his telekenisis. Or Lord Ansar's ability to control weak individuals with his mind. With every enemy we kill and whose blood we drink, we make use of the personal power and skills our prey posessed. And Vepar is a demon with a strong connection to the sea-“

„-are you saying, if you could feed on this demon's blood, you would no longer be hurt by the touch of water?“

„Indeed. But we don't even need the demon himself.“ Ansar stated. „The human he posesses should have enough demonic power scorching through his veins to provide the same effect.“

„And to obtain it you have to kill this 'Ryan Kuhn'.“ The old scotsman concluded. „Hmm. Are you sure there is no other way?“ Alienor shook her head.

„I am sorry for Agent Tahanet and her friend, but in order to get such a mighty Dark Gift, the human host must die. It is either his life, or we lose a immeasurable chance.“

„An act of kindness, i might add.“ Aodh gruffed and crossed his arms over his chest. „You do not want to know what state this mortal probably is in. Demonic posession is one of the cruelest fates for a mortal. And even if not: we cannot let this opportunity go to waste. Obtaining this gift could ensure our future survival.“

„But why? Just summon the demon yourself. And free this human from his posession.“

„Because they simply can't, my king.“ Vitani chimed in. „A demon being called via a summoning is aware of the person calling it. Vepar would know immediately that a vampire tries to call him. And he would never be so foolish to answer that call. But as long as he posesses this mortal, Vepar is trapped inside Ryan Kuhn's flesh until his body dies.“

Macbeth let out a long sigh. Even if he wanted to stop his grandchildren, he knew he wasn't able to. He has witnessed of only a flicker of Allie's power, but it was as Hakon stated back in the castle: raw, unmessuarble power sourched through Alienor's veins, like a constant thrumming. Never could he hold back her, not to speak of all three of them. On the other hand: Leah and the Gargoyles placed such high hopes on him. It would be most dishonorable if he betrayed their trust so easily.

„Alienor, do you need, or better: do you want my help?“ the four vampires cocked their heads at him. „I feel most uncomfortable with the proposition of letting allies like Goliath and Agent Tahanet down so easily.“ Allie and her fellow vampires exchanged looks, then shot him a understanding smile.

„No worries, Auld yin.“ She grasped his hand and squeezed it gently. „We understand your predicament. Rest assured, nobody will hold a grudge against you if you choose not to accompany us. But i bid you to not intervene either.“

Macbeth looked at their conjoined hands. „That, i can do.“

„Splendid! Now all of you, listen. We need to play our cards right if we want this to be a immediate success.“ Alienor fished a green gem from the folds of her robe, then tapped it with her claw. A detailed map of a uninhabited house at the outskirts of Dawson City came to life as she started to conduct a plan.

„Ansar: you survey the entire premises. I want eyes and ears everywhere. Also, you will ensure with your magic that we can teleport in and out as we please. Aodh, you accompany me inside. I might need your strength and skill. And Berlind-“ the vampiress perched her ears as she focused her attention on her mother „-you ensure that neither the Manhattan Clan nor their human companions find out about our plans. And especially keep an eye on the one they call 'Xanatos'. I feel that he is not to be trusted.“ Brows furrowed, Alienor said:

„There is a lot riding on this chance, my children. Under no circumstances are we allowed to fail.“

-------------------------------------

David Xanatos stood at the large window of his office, overlooking the towers and courtyard of the castle. Nashville was engaged in a fast game with what looked like an oversized bat, chasing each other around between the walls and towers, but strayed never too far from the castle.

„She is quite impressive, isn't she?“ Xanatos stated out of the blue, not tearing his gaze from Berlind's leathery wings, from the deadly taloned feet and her giant fangs, visible every time she playfully snapped after Nashville. „I never thought there could be a creature even more magnificent than the gargoyles, but i stand corrected. Berlind is not only a force of nature, but also a work of art. She is far stronger and powerful than Goliath and a even more skilled sorceress than Demona. Those vampires seem to be invincible, superior to a gargoyle in any way.“

A loud, barking laugh from the other side of his desk made him tear his gaze from the scenery before him. Sitting in one of the comfortable chairs was a blonde man with an impressive beard. His companion was currently standing in the middle of the room, staring holes into one corner of the ceiling.

„What?“ Xanatos snapped and shoved his guest's foot off his office desk with annoyance.

„Don't tell me you consider asking that bony bloodsucker to turn you.“

„Why not? Immortality is really tempting for a man like me.“

Hakon let out a huff and rested his other foot on the chair next to him. „Of course. You think you, the missus and your brat turn into undead bloodsuckers so you can spend eternity being a menace to this world and enjoying all your cash is a good idea?“

„How do you-“

„Pfft. Please. I'm over a thousand years old. I met many guys like you. Piece of advise? You will never be a vampire.“ The immortal viking nodded his head at the window. „Well, not like them, at least.“

Xanatos crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. „And why's that? I think both Fox and I would make a dashing pair of immortals.“

„Tsk tsk tsk.“ Hakon tuttet as he shook his head and raised his finger in a reprimanding manner. „Undead. Not immortal.“

„What's the difference?“

„The one called 'Macbeth' is immortal. And the Big Boss. As well as Goliath's former mate, whose name i keep forgetting-“

„Demona.“

„-bless you. The vampires, Rosiel and I are not immortal. We are undying.“

„And how exactly does that make you any different? Cause you died before? If so, that would make you a zombie.“ Xanatos laughed, but much to his dismay, the viking wasn't fazed by his idle provocation.

„You only posess sad half-knowledge mixed with cinematic influenced nonesense.“

Rosiel's eerie voice echoed through the room. He didn't move an inch, still staring at the ceiling. This kind of behavior began to unnerve Xanatos more and more. „Zombies are corpses reanimated by a magic called voodoo. They have no conciousness. We are dead humans whose souls have been ripped from their rest, forced back into a corpse to be reanimated. Our will forms the flesh of others in our image. It is not our own. The vampires are their own flesh wich requires a blood sacrifice to uphold their curse, their souls draw the required power directly from the Beyond.“

„However-“ Hakon interrupted Rosiel, who didn't seem to mind. „-Berlind is a child sired by Queen Alienor. So, before she is allowed to sire vampires of her own, she needs her mother's approval. If Berlind even posesses the necessary knowledge, that is.“

„And you don't think the CEO of a multinational company would be a good addition to her ranks?“

„It is healthier for both of us if i keep my thoughts for myself.“ Suddenly, Hakon's laid-back attitude and sly grin changed. A stern expression spread over his face and he took a more professional posture.

„Enough chit-chat. What do you want from us?“

„I want intels.“

„Intels?“

„Yes.“ Xanatos placed his ellbows on the table and rested his fingertips against each other. „I want intels about the same topics you provide for Agent Tahanet. You know: the Children of Oberon, magical objects, my enemies, anything that could be of value. Oh, and of course everything about our blood loving friends.“

For a second, he thought that Hakon would either laugh or scream at him. But the viking only narrowed his eyes as he pondered over Xanatos' offer.

„Okay.“

„Okay? That's it?“ Somehow he thought those guys needed more convincing.

„Sure. But it all comes for a price.“

„Of course. Just name the amount and i pay it.“

Finally, Rosiel seized his weird attitude and joined them. „Oh, no no no no. We don't mean money.“ His piercing gaze settled on Xanatos. „You will know the prize when we demand it.“

„-nothing too serious, though.“ Hakon waved his hand leisurely. „Just a favor in return, a little.... gesture. For our tedious and thourough services.“

A sudden shiver ran down Xanatos' spine. The way Hakon offered him his hand to seal the deal, how both he and Rosiel stared at him with their unsettling grins...

„Give me a night to sleep over your proposition.“

„Ah, ah, ah.“ Hakon denied. „This is a one time offer. Your one and only chance to obtain our services.“

And Xanatos didn't waste another second. Fighting down his inner turmoil, the gut feeling wich helped him to make the right decisions all his life. This time, he needed to ignore it. The informations he would be able to get from those two were far to valuable to let this chance pass. A sudden, heavy fatigue overcame him as he stood up and reached over the table and struck his hand in Hakon's. It only lasted a moment, the dimmed lamps on the wall flickered and he could swear that pitch black shadows crawled from the corners of his office. He hastily let go before falling back into his chair.

„A pleasure to do buisness with you, Mr. Xanatos.“ Hakon said with a shit-eating grin on his face as he and Rosiel got on their way.

„Hold on! How will i be able to contact you?“

„You won't. We will contact you.“ Rosiel trilled over his shoulder. „~Goodnight...~“

Chapter Text

The chanting turned most obnoxious. Meant as a homage to him by these mortals, it only hurt his ears like needlepricks.

Pain errupted where the binding cut in his flesh as he twitched his fingers. Well, his loaned flesh.

Oh, yes. Ryan's body has been more than a suitable host. A young child in need of guidance, in conflict with himself and his superficial family... ensnaring him in his net had been so, so easy. Of course, over time Ryan tried to free himself from the shackles confining him. But no amount of self harm, of drugs and life threatening situations, of defiance and pleasurable company could ever put out the deep, burning fire he caused in his soul.

No. He had nestled within the most precious part of this human's being and was determined to stay. He would stay inside Ryan until his body couldn't take it anymore. As long as he could, so his mind would escape the prison he had made for himself so long ago.

Until his host made began the investigation regarding the slaughter of some peasants. It sparked his interest, those ritualistic killings, the fanatic crusade of those who dared to call themselves his minions. They weren't the first and neither last to proclaim themselves as his herolds, but it was the dedication that caught his attention.

Finally, after an eternity, there was a way to fully breach the barrier to the human world. Every piece in his grand scheme finally fell into place: the desperation of this foolish detective, the arrival of the vampires, the reunion of this insignificant branch of royalty. He would soon be free of his eternal punishment. Very soon...

Screams suddenly disturbed the painful chants. The sound of bodies hitting on the floor echoed to his bleeding eardrums, he could feel them, the screaming of their tormented souls, oh so familiar yet not even close to Ryan's; their agony had never been as enticing as his, never so delicious-

They may have changed, caught in metal gears, but he would always recognize the young humans looking down at his malnourished form in great disgust, even shedding a few tears as they freed him from his confines...

„What have you done?!“ cried the man at the cultists trapped between his metal claws. „WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BROTHER?!“

-------------

Goliath observed the scenery before him: Nashville, who played catch with a buffalo-sized bat.

It was unlikely that Berlind meant any harm to the young gargoyle, but that wasn't what made Goliath suspicious: the one claiming to be a queen had asked them not to intervene while she searched for the man named Ryan Kuhn. But he couldn't shake the uneasiness spreading in his gut. Almost as if the vampiress was trying to distract them while something bigger was already in motion.

„Goliath?“ He half expected it to be Elisa, until he recalled that she was on duty tonight. As he turned around, he was greeted with the sight of Agent Tahanet's spotted face.

„Can i help you, Agent?“

„Yes.“ Leah joined him and leaned against the balustrade, her gaze pinned on the spectacle before them. „I came to apologize.“

Goliath lifted a brow ridge at her. „Oh?"

Leah finangled with the clasps of her leather bag for a moment, pulling out a package of cigarettes. She shook one for herself out of the pack before offereing it to Goliath, who politely declined. Setting it alight, she took a hefty pull and wheezed „Jup“ around the burning in her airways, then blew out a cloud of blueish-gray smoke. „I should have told you about my... 'acquaintances'.“

He didn't answer right away, only blew a displeased huff out of his nostrils.

„But i really didn't meant to offend you. Or your clan. It is just that Rosiel and Hakon are, well... let's say they can be useful from time to time. Still, i guess i could have laid the fact of Hakon's continuing existence a bit gentlier on you.“

„That's how you know so much about me and my clan.“ He didn't look at her. „From this viking spirit. If he even is one, that is.“

„Hmmm. A good guess. I'm not so sure myself what he is. I think he's a bit too fleshy for a spirit. Jokes aside, there are things about Hakon not even i know. Elisa told me you battled him in his spectre form a few months ago. Wich makes me wonder how this is possible, considering the fact that he serves as my informant for six years now.“

„This sentence alone makes me wonder in turn, how you could ever trust this monster enough to approach a clan of gargoyles based only on his intels.“

Leah took another hefty pull from her cigarette. „Don't insult me, Goliath. I am very capable of gaining information on my own. After all, i'm part of the paranormal counterdivision of the FBI. And you may not like this, but Hakon has been nothing but reliable whenever my unit worked with him. But yeah: it was a shitty move just placing him infront of you without prior warning.“

„Kind of you to notice, considering the fact that it was you who asked for our help. And right now, i have the feeling that my clan get's dragged into a even greater conspiracy. It started with one vampire and a dead security guard and now there is a whole massacred village, a foe i once thought long dead and four vampires apparently related to a former foe turned ally to my clan.“

„Yeah, it's kinda hard for me to keep track as well.“

„If you are being sincere, Leah-“ Goliath deliberately used her first name instead of her rank „-and wish to keep up our good faith, then i suggest you now tell me everything you know.“

„With 'everything' you mean-"

„Everything. Down to the last minor detail.“ Goliath stated with finality.

Leah swallowed heavy before finishing her cigarette, snipped the bud over the balustrade and lighted herself a second one.

--------------------------

„Hey!“

Neither Hakon nor Rosiel turned around as they waited for their elevator. „Ignore her.“ hissed Rosiel. „If we pretended we didn't hear her-

„Hakon!“

Rolling his eyes, Hakon exchanged a glance with Rosiel, then took a steadying breath before turning around with a superficial, charming smile.

„What can i do for you, Detective-?“

„Maza.“ the woman scowled at him. „Why are you loitering around here?“

„Oh but my dear detective, nobody is loitering anywhere. Both Rosiel and i are authorized to be here by the head of the house.“ Both men smiled even broader at her and did polite little bows.

„I know you are plotting something. And just FYI: better watch your back. I'll have an eye on you.“

Hakon still smiled, but at the same time his brows pulled up in a frown. „Plotting? Nobody is plotting anything, detective. Like i said: we are guests, not intruders.“ He took a step closer to Elisa, while Rosiel repeatedly pressed the button with a hand behind his back. „I know you do have your reservations regarding me, considering my past with your... friends. But i'll gladly try to disperse your doubts. Over dinner perhaps?“

„Beat it.“ Detective Maza barked and crossed her arms. „First this thing between you and Leah and now you try to ingratiate with Xanatos?“

„First of all: we don't need to 'ingratiate' with anyone. We answer to no human. And secondly: our association with Agent Tahanet is pure buisness.“ He allowed his eyes to wander over her form for a moment, making sure she got the innuendo. „In every way.“

„Bah!“ Elisa cringed but withstood the urge to take a step back. „Just be aware that i'll be watching every single of your steps. If you plot something against the gargoyles, i will find out.“ Suddenly the elevator made a little bing and the door slid open.

„Then i hope you have a lot of patience.“ The viking flashed her one last, bright grin, then joined his companion.

„And stop hooking up with my friend!“

Hakon grabbed the elevator door before it fully closed: „Everything has a price, Detective. And Agent Tahanet is willing to pay it.“

Elisa went to retort, but a sudden buzzing in her jacket caught her attention. It turned out to be her pager and the alert on the display was enough to make her insides twist.

„Move it!“ she snapped at the two men in the elevator, who exchanged befuddled looks as she squeezed between them.

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