The gate guard was being an asshole. I could sort of understand, since they had actually called us for once - it was like pulling teeth without anesthesia to get any person of authority in the Republic of Germany to call us even if a witch were
setting fire to their hair. Of course in a way, one was.

We had dubbed her "the Puppet Master." Her main ability seemed to revolve around taking control of people, manuevering them from the shadows as if they were made of wood and strung to her fingers. She was not subtle enough to hide herself completely, but just subtle enough that the Germans, who normally liked to handle their witch troubles themselves whenever possible, called The Hunt.

And the Hunt of course, called me.

Which led to the last reason the guard was being an asshole. I looked like a homeless person who'd been dead for a week, and therefore obviously had no money. This was on purpose - it's the little things that make life worth living. The bored looking little roach of a large fat man stared disinterestedly down his often broken nose and bleated again:

"If you've got no money and no trade goods then shove off! This gate is closed to beggars."

Another look around revealed all sorts of people heading through the gate, courtesy of this jackass's partner. Old, young, rich, poor, dirty and clean. All headed through the 12 foot steel gate in the 15 foot granite block wall without a care in the world. I couldn't stop a grin, and cut my attention sharply back to my flabby roadblock. Sure enough, he was stumbling away with a look of horror rising to the fore. He looked like he wanted to scream, piss himself, and pull his sidearm... all at once.

My smiles tend to have that effect, I'm told.

Looks like I had to do damage control... ugh, and so early into the assignment. I pulled out my badge, the symbol of the hunt and flashed it at him, making sure to keep the movement subtle and hidden by his bulk... which was pretty easy all told. His eyes widened and his mouth opened.

"You're...."

Too loud. Way too loud. My hand reached out on it's own, and pulled him closer to me, shirt collar first. This had a further beneficial effect of shutting him up.

"You need to shut up. You blow my cover here and well, let's just say I won't be happy. You've just gotten the bribe you were looking for, and you're happy, right?"

He nodded, clearly terrified now. Hmpf, some guard he was... a plush toy could own this place, the modern town of Vymar.

"Now now, that just won't do. You're happy, it's a large bribe... so smile."

I patted his cheek with my free hand as I put him down. His smile was a weak thing, easily crushed by the glimpse of my weapon he'd caught. I really didn't think it was possible for him to go more pale, but he managed.

"Go right in, sir."

"Thank you good sir! Have a wonderful day!"

Sheesh, act like he'd never seen a pistol before. He was wearing one! I pulled my cloak back around my face, carefully tuning out the sound of ripping as another hole was opened up in the rotted cloth. It couldn't show anything but more of the same, so I wasn't worried; my disguise was foolproof!

"Yo, Sasha."

Damn it.

"Hello, Dusty."

Dustin Silverman was in the same business I was, and a black like me. He was almost as good as I was, too. If almost meant not even close. I'd been promoted from both grey and red before him, I had the better mission success rate... and I was taller by a half inch. Any smoke he could blow about being better than me was just that; smoke. I had to admit he was the type the ladies go for, despite being short; dyed blue hair, a boyish face with just a hint of the masculine in it, compact corded muscle suitable for a gymnast. Or for someone in our line of work. He cut a good figure in his expensive tailored suit. His
weapon, an absolutely lame naginata, was absent.

He wasn't my match in looks of course, but he wasn't my match in anything else, so that was to be expected. He looked a bit angry. He caught my head in the ultimate schoolyard move, the noogie.

"That's Dustin you barbarian. Try to remember."

Oh right, he didn't like to be called dusty... it reminded him he might get dirty. Speaking of which.

"Might want to let me go. You're getting your suit dirty."

He let go so fast I stumbled, darn near falling. I decided to press my advantage.

"So you're my backup?"

It was customary to send a team of 3 to 6 for most witches; though they were single and acted alone, they were usually powerful enough that we needed multiple hunters to ensure a kill. In rare cases two teams were sent. In really rare cases a hunter would meet one of the 25... and multiple teams would be dispatched. Usually multiple teams led by whites. The top 25 were the most wanted of the witch world for good reason. Cities had a tendency to die around them. Sometimes countries.

"Yes, I'm your backup. It was decided that you tend to be a bit too... straightforward to tackle the puppet master alone."

"What? That's bullshit. I can get her no problem."

He sighed.

"I'm sure you can Sasha, but without announcing your presence? Without mass property damage?"

Urk.

"Um, sure! I got this."

"Well just in case, my team is staying at the Hilton. Call if you need us."

Sure, right. If I knew Dustin, he'd be making his own investigation. He would want to get the collar (and the sizable bounty)before us, the cheap bastard. Oh well, I could always call if I needed like he asked, or ignore it and say the portable cb's couple mile range wasn't enough. Or claim it was broken, whatever.

Communications was crap for everyone anyway; Hunters had the best gear, just old school CB's with a few repeater stations. Everything else - satellites, radio towers, heck even roadways with cars and trucks - were all targets of the witches. Oddly enough they left steam trains alone, as long as they burned wood. At least for the most part; you never could tell with an angry witch.

Which was why I had to walk in, the Hunt had it's own train lines, but not to here...and regular train tickets were expensive. the price one had to pay for a regiment of soldiers and a squad of Hunters to gaurd the train in the first place. What I wanted to see though, was a plane. the ability to fly like a bird through the air, and get to places so fast a witch couldn't escape me in time; that would be worth any cost.

I realized Dustin had moved off while I was meditating (that's right, meditating) and I decided to go check in with my team; due to an unforeseen witch hunt in the hilly farms a week away, I'd been delayed from taking this case, and my team were two reds. They were not powerful enough to take on a witch without me; the good news is they were smart enough to know that. With luck they had used their skills to find the witch for me.

I hated the hidey ones worst of all, they were always a pain to find. A straight up fight is best. And of course with a name like 'the puppet master' this one would be one of the hidey ones. The police of this burg had only caught a hint of her trail because one of their districts had a slightly higher death rate with an unusual cause.

It seems that people under her influence act a bit off, and a bit less natural... then their hearts explode in their chests. The current theory is the death is a week after she first takes control. So far in district two (a lower middle class district where her predations seem to be centered) 14 people have died this way. And that was with my last information; it's likely much higher since it's a month later.

So what I was looking for was a young woman (witches were always women, and always young - the process that made them witches halted the aging process) with indulgent habits and a self satisfied sneer. there could be many suspects in this place... Vymar was the epitome of a modern city.

Concrete and impact resistant glass everywhere you looked; precious few wooden buildings (mostly in the poor district) and large reinforced roads to handle the buggies and carts all the vogue in places where people no longer preferred to use their feet. They even had streetlights, and a few buildings over three stories... which was just asking for witch trouble. But then the civvies never do ask our opinion, and the Germans doubly so; they are as addicted to their gadgets as the Japanese were reported to be. Before the nation was destroyed that is.

At least the manufacturing plants (one for steam engines and one for the metal frames of concrete prefab houses) and the textile mill were well protected and as far away from each other as possible. So they weren't completely ignorant of the target they represented. A patrol of four police, armed with the standard pistols were down every street, or stationed
on the corner. Some of those even watched me as I walked nonchalantly along towards the rendevous point.

It was probably my sublime whistling.

In fact, only the 4th street in, it appeared my whistling had picked up an audience. Four of those men in uniform had been following me, and now moved to intercept; I did not object when they grabbed, lifted, and ushered me into a relatively shielded alley away from prying eyes. It was done so fast that a normal person would have no time to object, and nobody from the busy street noticed.

The fourth man, their officer, yanked my hood away quickly. He improved my mood by taking a bit of hair with it, as my hood violently parted ways with the rest of the cloak in an explosion of dust.

"Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Now is that any way to treat a guest to your fair city, Captain?"

He flushed and started fingering his pistol.

"Talk now miss, or face the consequences."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Not twenty minutes in town, and this already. Again. I could imagine Dustin doing cartwheels in my head and cheering, waving a victory flag. I lowered my center of gravity slightly, then drew myself compact while making a tight circle with my body, arms out, clearing them. I wasted no time and drew, sighting both barrels of my antique yet still very functional colt navy revolvers. One in the captains' face so close his eyes crossed, the other to crony number 1.

"First off, you're an idiot. I'm a guy, you jackass. Second off, I'm the last one you want to be pissing off right now."

The captain drew back far enough to actually see the guns and paled.

"...The maniacal marksman!"

And of course he goes from blind to cowardly, like his guard buddy at the gate. All us Hunters had nicknames, given to us by a grateful populace. For example, Dustins' was 'the heavenly flow' because his naginata, once plugged into a generator, could generate a gate through which water would flow. Or something, I wasn't too sure on how his stupid weapon worked. I was 'the maniacal marksman' because I used guns.

Very powerful, very explosive guns. And of course, I almost never missed. There was that one time in Morocco... but I was drunk, so that didn't count. That city needed remodeling anyway. The maniacal part was due to my grin and infectious laugh; it really had nothing to do with the property damage and casualties. Those were all caused by the witches.

After all, how dare they resist?

"Oh dear god, I can't believe they sent you; I must warn the town!"

I reached out and snagged him.

"You'll do no such thing. You want to warn the witch that hunters are here? You'll cause as bloodbath."

He stopped and turned woodenly. Then he did something that probably shouldn't have caught me by surprise, but did. He reached out and fondled my right pec.

"Forgive me! I only wanted to make sure. The rumors never described you! I thought you'd be... taller."

I removed my gun from the inside of his nostril and eased the hammer back.

"I have to go meet my team. If anyone asks, you saw me, checked my papers, and I'm a travelling merchant from the north."

"Uh, right. Please carry on sir."

I really can't blame them for being on their toes, but if they are pulling shit like that the witch is going to notice. The real question is have they before today; if so then the witch is either blind or knows we're here. If not, then we have a chance. It was obvious to me that the captain saw a person he thought was suspicious (and female, hurl. I'm not that girly, damn it!) and decided to act on his own. The real question is how many others were jumping the gun, thinking they could find and kill the witch.

And I really couldn't wait till that next growth spurt. I was sure being taller than 5 foot 5 and weighing more than 140 pounds would help this whole mistaken identity thing. this wasn't even close to the first time that I'd been accused of being a witch myself, despite the fact that I was plainly a guy.

I found the rendevous without further annoyance. A small old world style inn that was actually shaped to look like an old pub at the end of the poor district; 'The Rusty Nail'. It was without a doubt the worst hive of scum in the entire city; which of course made it the perfect home away from home.

"Yo Norre, you're late."

"Yo Ivan. Had to make a little side trip is all."

Ivan was a big tall russian bear of a man, and an old special forces hand. His specialty was knives - big almost sword ones. He also wore enough throwing knives to act as a makeshift anchor for a ship. All his cutlery could be charged by his generator of course, making him a deadly close and mid range fighter to any witch. He was dressed a bit better than I was, with leather being predominant.

Hey cured animal hides were better than rotting burlap any day, but I had a statement to make!

He followed me to the bar, and stood behind me while I got the bartender's attention.

"Beer me; something domestic."

The bartender did not argue. He knew I was young, but that carding thing went out of style about the time everyone started dying; nobody worries about that crap now. Or if they do, Ivan is always there to back me.

"Table in the far corner, watching both the exits."

I followed Ivan's directions (always a good idea to sit where you can see the entrances/exits) and found Alicia there. She immediately frowned. Three mugs in front of her... she was mellow; that meant I had a chance to avoid a scene.

"You're late, ass."

"I had something to do."

"Something, or someone?"

She leered back. OK, a bit more than mellow, she was downright tipsy. I took a look at my beer, which turned out to be darker than black. Minor mystery solved there.

"In a manner of speaking, both. Don't worry, you'll get your cut - if you keep your mouth shut."

After all, if she talks I could get suspended, since I already had a job; but if the higher ups think that I ordered them ahead to take care of this witch while I killed the other... well they'd still be pissed, considering they thought the 'puppet master' was dangerous, and didn't know about the other one. Hmm, I did not think this one out very well.

"Well goody for me."

Alicia replied, promptly thumping her head on the table. I checked my beer again while waiting for her to revive. She didnt. Alicia was the type of woman you right home about... if you write horror novels. She was tall and in shape, and that was the best that could be said about her.

Her shape was mostly an inverted triangle, and she weighed almost as much as Ivan. I suspected she had to shave every morning, and I don't mean her legs, which were more hairy than some bears I'd met. It was however, a given that she could walk from one end of the town to the other and not be accused of witchery. Even worse, she used whips and wore form fitting leather.

I turned to Ivan.

"Sop then?"

He nodded. Sop was standard operating procedure; also known as 'let the annoying woman drink herself stupid any time it's feasible'; just fewer problems that way. It seemed to have worked this time as well, since the bar was still standing. I took a sip. The beer was as potent as I thought it would be, a direct hammer to the tongue.

"So tell em what happened."

"Well Ivan, there I am, walking along and minding my own business just walking down the road, when a witch comes out of the farmhouse next to me with blood all over her. Of course I had my uniform on, and she's got her stupid hat and a stupid wand in her hand, and we stare at each other for a minute before she starts to fly away."

He's nodding.

"So of course I blast her and hit her wand, and she drops like a stone and breaks a leg. then her stupid familiar, a mud man of all things, flows up and grabs her, and they both start running again. Only even with the broken leg, her and the mud guy prove to be fast, so I end up spending three days chasing the bitch till she can't keep her familiar summoned anymore. One in the head, one in the heart, I grab her hat and here I am, just slightly late."

"And the farmers?"

I took a long draught, reveling in the cool feel of the beer flowing down my parched throat.

"God only knows what drew the witch to 'em, but she got them all. Kids were in a pretty standard hiding spot -the cellar- and she got them too, just before I arrived it looked like. The bodies didn't have time to cool."

Ivan knew I'd checked before giving chase. He would have too, even though we both know better. On that score, Alicia was one up on us. She never checked.

"So now one more hat registered in your generator eh?"

"Yep, and since we're a team, you both get cuts."

Teams get split up all the time, and reassigned. Something to do with traveling speeds and locations, etcetera. Ivan and Alicia would both get a third of the money, and the energy from the hat itself - the witches power conduit. It always amused
me that we used the witches' own powers to defeat them, through the generators and their linked weapons. Of course when you took a hat from a witch she became... docile. Destroy the hat, by weapon or generator, and the witch died.

"So how was she, this farm witch?"

"Feh, she was weak as all hell. She paniced right off and ran from the first. Her sole offensive ability seemed to be the ability to shoot pink hearts from her wand; they couldn't even stand up to a standard generator fueled load out from the Colts. Made me sick to look at her after the first day. I think even Alicia could have taken her alone."

"Then her hat will give us little energy."

The problem with having weapons that run on the energy of a witches hat is that the hat eventually runs out of energy. After all, a dead witch isn't alive to power the hat. Some teams have died in the field because they didn't gauge their energy consumption. Of course, the highly successful teams have energy to burn.

"It's OK man, we got more than enough; I was just adding to the pile. We can link genny's later. we drink now. And maybe food."

With an upraised arm, he called a barmaid over. That's what I liked about him, he never argued. Well, not about food at least. The barmaid was a blonde, fairly pretty as barmaids go, and taller than I was.

"Yes? What can I get you both?"

I held up my somehow empty mug.

"Another one of these and whatever you have in the kitchen."

She came back with two full mugs and one plate full of sausages, fried potatoes, and an apology.

"I'm afraid this is all that's left from the lunch rush, and dinner isn't ready yet."

"It's fine."

I replied with my mouth wrapped around a sausage. She blushed and stammered her thanks, then stumbled off. Weird, wonder what her problem is? I checked - guns were still hidden. Meh, whatever. I looked over to a rare sight; Ivan was showing me all his teeth. Well I knew how to stop that.

"The locals are getting antsy. One of their patrols stopped and escorted me into an alley in broad daylight."

He pondered.

"Well, you ARE a good 4 days late."

"It's a dangerous world, they should be used to people being late in it."

"My friend, these are Germans. They go crazy if their trains are a minute late. Having someone like you running loose in their country, and not being where he's supposed to be... to them that's as bad as a witch. but to answer your first question; no, I've not seen or heard of anything like that here before, in the weeks I've been here."

This was the acid test; I tried to keep the hope out of my voice.

"Any idea where she is?"

He shook his head a trifle sadly. Damn it again.

"Just that shes in this district. She can't have very good range, as she's leaving the local government alone. She can't be able to keep very many under her spell I think; Perhaps as many as 4 at a time. I base this on how the bodies have been found. Usually in small groups at once, and 4 was the largest one of those."

Hmm, she sounded weak now that I was here. I kind of hoped that wasn't the case. But then, even now we'd need to find her before she found us. If she caught us first we'd be her puppets for a week, then dead. Ugh, I hate all this thinking crap! Ivan interrupted with great timing; after all I don't think running out and shouting to her to 'come on out' would work.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You're done eating, aren't you?"

I looked at my empty plate. Not even grease marred it.

"Yes."

"You need sleep, don't you?"

He passed me a room key. Good old number 3.

"Yes, that's part of the plan, what of it?"

"Well you've had two of those beers... "

He pointed at Alicia.

"...3 put her down. And you're a bit of a lightweight. so would you help me get her upstairs before the alcohol hits and you pass out, please?"

I gave him my best 'I'll melt your head off' stare. He remained unphased, so I shrugged.

"Sure. Let's go."

(tbc)

I still wasn't happy about Ivan calling me a lightweight, but I couldn't deny that I barely made it to the bed before my head swam. At least, to myself - if Ivan or Alicia asks, I've been up the entire time. So what if I arrived at around 4pm, and it's now morning? I was involved in gun maintenence and a heavy duty planning session; I make all the best plans we use by myself anyway. I was pretty sure most of that was the walking three days straight with no sleep and little food.

I swapped out one set of clothes that had gone well beyond simply seeing better days for another set. It didn't really matter they were all alike, and all a disguise. I had yet to take a bath, so I just sponged the worst crap off with some water. I'd no sooner got my shirt on then the door threatened to split from the pounding.

"Come on, pipsqueek! It's morning, time to go to work!"

"Go sit on a railroad spike! I'll be right down!"

Honestly, doesn't she have better things to do than wake everyone up?

She kept blithely pounding on the door so I timed her blows and opened it right in mid pound. She fell in of course, grumbling. Then she looked at my still wet face and did that stare thing she does sometimes.

"What?!? It's too early for this crap Al."

Then she said something I had a hard time catching; in fact, I was sure I hadn't caught it right.

"It's just not fair that a boy should be so much cuter than me."

Alright, time for a nice, polite discussion. With her backed up against the wall that way I couldn't possibly misunderstand her; my ears werepretty good normally, it was just early. And since she has the attention span of a humming bird, the gun up her nose was one hundred percent necessary.

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you; what did you say?"

"Um, I said 'it's not fair that toys should be so cool!'"

She held out a motorized toy; some sort of robot that made noises and shot sparks when she turned it on.

"Hmm, you're right, that thing is clearly better than what we had as kids. Freaking Germans and their technical genius."

I did not miss her sigh of relief, but once again I took my gun from a nostril. Come to think of it....

"Hmm, that's the second nose in as many days you've been up, Joe. I really should clean you, you could have a nasty sort of disease."

Alicia turned green and hit the bathroom door so fast I'd have swore she broke it. I widened the grin I'd been sporting. Wake me up and insult me, will she....

"If you two are quite through, it's morning and we need to start."

I waved to Ivan and pushed past all the irate people in the inn that wanted to talk about Alicia's behaviour, taking care to hide my generator. While many people owned guns nowadays, generators were always custom made, attuned to the hunter that wore them, and the only portable device capable of tapping into the power a witch normally commanded. Of course it did it by stealing it from a witch's hat, but that was a minor detail.

And if a bunch of people wanted to beat Alicia's loud ass into the dirt for waking them up, who was I to interfere? She'd brought it on herself. The loud clops of Ivan's boots assured me he didn't much care for her antics either. at the foot of the stairs I saw a flash of a dress, and snagged the barmaid without looking at her. I was trying to hide my grin, like Silas wanted me to.

I was trying to be good; I was!

That still didn't stop the full body shudder the performed when she looked at me; I wasn't sure she could see my smile, but something set her off. Still, no reason not to try and be civil.

"Coffee, black. Sausage and waffles. Now."

I let he go and she disappeared so fast she left a cloud of dust. Well not really, but she could have. Ivan stared at me.

"Waffles?"

"Well, this close to Belgium territory they have to have Belgium waffles, right?"

His facepalm was as loud as a .22.

***

Alicia managed to join us for breakfast just in time to eat some. Not much mind you, but some. She'd even escaped the wonderful discussion the inn residents wanted to have with her. I'm not sure how she did it, but it probably involved her revealing herself as a hunter; sure it was a violation of our orders, but only fools attacked a hunter. Well fools and witches, basically the same thing really.

As long as I didn't hear her do it, I didn't really care. And for all I know, she didn't really let the cat out of the bag. Of course that didn't stop me from eating her waffles before she came down. She could stand to lose a few kilos anyway. Ivan interrupted the glare fest.

"So, how do we find the witch? Al and I have been looking for a week, but we have no leads at all."

Typical.

"Sheesh you guys suck at investigations."

"We do not, you little runt!"

"hunterwhowantsaguninhernosesayswhat?"

"What?!?"

Too easy.

"Oh gross, not again!"

The force of her run almost pulled my Colt from my hands; she was managing some respectable speed there. I ignored the sounds coming from the womens' bathroom. The retching especially took quite a bit of ignoring.

"Hmm, I think I know how to find the witch."

Ivan shook his head as his ready smile slipped.

"Let me guess; announce that we are here and challenge the witch to come out?"

"Yeah! Just like that time in Abved! It worked great with that head exploder witch."

"You mean the town that was leveled when we fought in it? Come on Sasha, we need to make money here, not pay for damage till we're grey! Put a little more effort into planning, eh?"

"Hey, we're in the black, aren't we? Especially after that job in the ruins of Paris. That payout was so much money we could swim in it; good times."

"We are barely in the black. After Paris came Dussledorf. Then Morocco. Then Belize. Then...."

Sheesh, how long was he going to hold a grudge?

"Hey hey hey! Some of those were profitable."

"Some of those could have been enough for me to retire, if we'd had a plan."

I waved that thought away.

"Pshaw! You wouldn't retire, you enjoy it as much as I do. But, I'll see what I can do. For now I guess we just walk around and keep our eyes open."

Maybe that would give me time to come up with a plan; after all, it's not like I knew what the witch was after. without knowing what her objective was there was precious little we could do but look around for egomanical women with hats on. More than one witch had been found in this tried and true method... usually after a few innocent women were singled out first.

For some reason, hats weren't the fashion accessory they used to be among young women.

Ivan wasn't convinced. Alicia nodded agreement as she sat back down, face scrubbed red.

"Alicia and I have been doing that for weeks, and we haven't seen anyone suspicious."

"That's because you haven't had me looking with you; you know how good I am at spotting scum."

It was true too, through a mix of observational skills and luck, I was one of the best for spotting a witch. Hell, twice I even spotted witches before they had fully emerged.

Emergence was the event that made a witch; somehow, in some way, some women just spontaneously started to form a hat. Those were uniformly from 12 to 22 in age. No emergence past age 22 has ever been recorded. Early witches were just like normal folks to start, according to those records that survived. The only difference was they had some sort of hat, and could do miraculous things. But of course that wasn't all.

The earliest witches started hearing voices. Worse yet, they started listening. Things turned ugly, and cities, regions, entire countries fell to the relentless onslaught. Every woman who turned witch turned murderous; it was only a matter of time. Some hung on for days, fewer held on for weeks. My mother held on for 3 months. She abandoned us before she killed us, a decision I could somewhat respect. My younger sister didnt even hold out 3 hours, killing my father and burying me under the rubble of the family home.

I would one day catch up to her and return the favor.

At any rate, once the hat formed their aging either stopped or slowed down, and they gained the services of what they called a servitor or familiar. We called it a demon of course, and it protected the witch, and tutored her in the use of her powers. The stronger the witch, the stronger her servitor - they were unmistakeably linked to her powers somehow. My personal theory was one most hunters shared; that the familiar was the source of the voices, leading the witch down the garden path of evil. I had seen some truly epicly weird familiars in my time; giant robots, wisps of smoke, a ball of electricity... then they got REALLY weird.

"Are you even listening anymore?" Alicia asked me.

"Huh? No. Why, did you say something important?"

"I swear... Ivan, make him listen will you?"

I turned expectantly to Ivan.

"I said, just following your nose isn't a good plan either."

I shook my head.

"You two need to relax! I got it covered."

They tensed instead, almost like they didnt trust me. I'm taking a bit of fence, now. Here I am, having led these two into more hunts and scrapes then I care to remember, and they are acting like I can't be trusted! Rat-bastards.

"Seriously, I've been thinking it over, and we don't need to do anything."

The light from the windows dimmed as a cloud passed over the sun. Ivan shivered, and Alicia looked lost. It was a good look for her, it made her beard stop bristling.

"What do you mean?" Well at least Ivan was on the ball.

"Well it's simple... ahh, guess it'll have to wait; our reinforcements have arrived."

"Wait, what? We called in reinforcements?"

"Of course not, but the Gloom apparently ordered them for us. you know how it is with the mental types."

Of course I couldn't tell them what I already knew, at least not yet. Being on a hundred battlefields where witches were involved, I had a flair for this sort of thing. Screaming of my sixth sense aside, this worked out perfectly. Dustin walked in a moment later, immaculately dressed and coiffed, surprising the rest of my little team. Honestly, it was rather angering to have him come in looking like that.

"We have something to discuss."

I leaned back in my chair and popped some gum. I loved gum. The current gum I had was mint, my personal favorite.

"And what's that?"

He took a vaguely incriminating look around then whispered just loud enough for all of us to hear.

"I've found the witch, but I'll need help to take her down."

Looks like Ivan was starting to catch on, judging by that look of calculating surprise. Alicia was still in the dark though. Good, it's almost impossible for her to keep her fool mouth shut.

"Sounds good, sooner we get out of this hole, the sooner we can get back to real civilization. Lead on."

I tapped the 'wait' signal on the table in front of Ivan as I stood up to leave. Alicia didn't notice. There was dense, there was super dense, Then there was Alicia. We all got up, and followed Dustin as he methodically walked outside and took a right. I spotted the rest of his team with ease, spread out amongst the thin morning crowd. Of course they all looked flawless; suited just like Dustin was and without a speck of dirt on them.

Kind of silly, really.

He led us all the way through the district and to the corresponding southern gate. The guards were in their little house, propped up against the wall and fast asleep. Or so it seemed. There were only a few dark stains around them... obviously a result of poor housekeeping. Of course while I caught Ivan loosening up his throwing knives in their sheaths, Alicia just continued to stomp happily away.

There was only one citizen that seemed to take notice of us as we went through the gate - a lady of the evening by her looks. A young one, dressed in a faded and patched but still fine modest red dress that reached her ankles. Small black heels kept her feet from the mud of the road. The dress had cream colored insets at the bodice with few stains, and she carried a small dingy white purse with pearls sewn into designs I did not recognize on it. Her haughty air was detectable from 500 paces, as if she were royalty. She was also up rather early for a lady of the evening.

Then we were through the gate and I didn't bother turning around.

"You know, you made our lives much simpler this morning. We were just discussing how to find you."

Now Alicia gets it, her whips out and cracking. Ivan has his knives in his hands as well and both are looking for targets. The laughter seems disembodied and the gate shuts, trapping us on the outside of the city.

Trapping the witch out here with us.

For a moment I am a bit slack jawed. Of all the arrogant, egotistical.... But that only lasts a moment. Dusty starts things off immediately, pulling his stupid naginata our from behind his coat and taking a swipe at where I was a tenth of a second ago. He caught a hint of my cloak but I could tell his heart really wasn't in it.

After all he didn't scream about wanting to mount my head on his wall or drink wine from my skull once.

His first attack swung wide as I helped it along, pistols now out. It was obvious his movements were being directed, at least in the most general sense. He still attacked with some skill, but he was a puppet being told where to swing. Very disappointing, this would be over in no time at all. I set up a few opportunities to draw the game out, and he did not fail to 'take advantage'. The witch had some idea what to do herself; it meant she was older than the average.

After all, a witch with weeks of experience behind her was far more dangerous than one that just got her hat; and statistics showed that one active past 6 months could get away almost indefinately. Though some argued it could be power as opposed to experience; after all, the more powerful witches lived longer. This one wasn't as powerful as it first seemed... I'd already worked out where she was watching the fight from the gaps in vision she had. She was foolishly right next to the gate, which meant it was finally time to stop screwing around.

I started the maneuver meant to get me in between my dance partner and the invisible witch, and drew. The right Colt was emptied on Dustin, and the left was emptied into that curious spot where the wall was distorting in as broad a pattern as I could make it. Hey, it's ok, Dustin was eating weighted bean bag rounds. And if he couldn't take that, well, he didn't deserve to be a hunter. Or breathe.

I was rewarded by blood splattering the wall (before my shots travelled on and it blew out, they dont make walls like they used to) twice. The witch faded back into view. That was always the problem - witches had protections, simply by being witches. They were tougher, faster and usually stronger. And that was usually before you added the spells they could cast to augment all that. This one however, wasn't much physically. She was saved death so far simply because my rounds went right through her like she was paper.

Luckily enough I'd hit and blown chunks out of both shoulders, and she was rapidly slipping into shock. Alicia was bloody but had managed to subdue Sylvie, a petite thing who really shouldn't be in this business at all but still managed to survive - she used knives too. Ivan had taken on Dutch, a hammer user supposedly from Norway with a suspect accent. Like Dustin they wore fine suits and took great pride in their polished manners. Both were the worse for wear and looking around in confusion. Dustin wasn't though, he was laid out, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

Perhaps the point blank shot to the face was a tad excessive?

Nah, I needed to make sure he snapped out of it. As I started towards the cause of so much suffering I could see the gratifying fear blossom on her face. She tried to struggle to her feet, but her arms weren't working. I didn't see her familiar anywhere. I squatted down beside her while she tried to push herself away with her legs.

"What's your name?"

She turned back again at the sound of my voice, eyes covering half her face and a veritable river of tears down both cheeks. She worked faster, and I kept up with her. She'd likely bleed out in a matter of minutes, those exit wounds did not look pretty. Still no evidence of a familiar... maybe it had been standing next to her, and I shot it too?

She stopped at the wall, and scooted herself to it. She looked back and up at me, and I smiled. A slight ghost of a smile flitted over her freshly marred but still cute face.

"Cathy."

I signaled Ivan again, out of the witches sight. This was usually where things went dicey.

"Well Cathy, I'm Sasha. You have a choice to make. You can surrender your hat to me, and get treated for your wounds. We will care for you as best we can. Or I can end it for you quickly, and take your hat afterwards."

For some reason witches even reacted to us taking their hats for use after they died... another mystery unsolved. After all, who cares about some item, no matter how powerful, that you owned after you're dead? The effects of a witch surrendering their hats though, that was well known. For some reason the moment a witch's hat left her person, that is, was no longer in contact with skin or within a few feet (depending on some unknown factor) said witch became a half responsive vegetable, with the IQ of a turnip. If a witch's hat was destroyed even that was optimistic. The moment the hat was destroyed, the witch went
into a coma and eventually died.

And of course, we destroyed them slowly in order to power our generators, which gave our weapons the unique abilities they had along with the firepower to actually kill a witch. Before the portable beauties came along, humanity was completely helpless. In some way however, they used the witch's own power. So either way, Cathy's hat would burn, and she would die. Her choice was in how.

Her eyes rolled wildly, like a frightened colt's, but her face betrayed her hope.

"It's in my purse, but I can't...."

"Alright Cathy, I've got it."

I took her bloody purse from around her shoulder as gently as I could; inside was some sort of beret, in a jaunty shade of blue. I made a show of reaching around and opening my genny's top hatch, and stuffing the thing inside. the spark in her eyes went out immediately, showing the standard side effect of a witch being cut off from her hat. Sure, she could be faking, but all my considerable experience said no.

"Alicia, get over here."

She had the best first aid kit of all of us, and Ivan was still watching for any surprises. Though with the hat stowed in a generator, the idea that the familiar was waiting to hit us was laughable - no familiar would willingly let a hat go into a genny. I stopped worrying when Cathy just sat there, drooling, while Alicia patched her up. A few winces from her, but for the most part she simply wasn't home.

I felt kind of sorry for her... she picked the wrong team to control. Perhaps she didn't know Ivan and Alicia were here, or dismissed them as part of a less than successful hunter team because we don't dress the part? Wouldn't be the first to make that mistake. In fact, that mistake might be one we encourage. If not for the lack of surprise involved, I might tell future generations of hunters to encourage it too. But if I do it now, it might hurt the ploy, because word would of course get out somehow.

Oh well, it didn't matter. Cathy would be escorted back to Central, where she would be experimented on. And when she eventually died, she would be dissected, all in the name of science and greater understanding of our enemy.

(tbc)

Finally, after the most boring of train rides and a fair amount of hiking, I was back in central. It felt good to be back. The only dampener to my spirits was I still had one idiot free from her village, and following me. I couldn't even send her off on any side excursions; the boss wanted to see all of us. At least this was more of a business meeting or check in.

After all, he hadn't sent an armed escort, like last time. I was almost insulted.

Or I would be if the thought of Gloom being mad at me was more scary than all of the 20, combined. With a few extra random
witches thrown in. Like maybe the one that exploded heads. But no escort, and no official summons... just us back in central to show that we were still alive and witch influence free. I strode in towards the lobby desk like I owned the place (cause I do, unless you ask Gloom, then I deny it!) and may have invaded Sarah's personal space a little bit. Her long suffering sigh was obviously meant for the gorilla thing behind me, and not my brilliant self.

"Morning, Sarah!"

She ran a dainty hand through her golden hair and straightened her uniform (a blue one piece dress that somehow looked
better on her than anyone else).

"It's after 3, Sasha."

"...your point?"

She sighed again and gave me a smile.

"Nothing, no point. Welcome back Sasha, Ivan, Alicia. How did Germany go?"

"Disappointing, actually. The witch focused on idiots which allowed us to get the drop on her; no real fight this time."

Yes of course those idiots were behind me, escorting my witch. I wanted them to hear that, and they did. Of course they did not quite agree with my assessment.

"You little shit! No fight!?! I almost killed your weak ass!"

"Who are you calling little, pipsqueek? I'm taller than you are! And you couldn't kill a germ with bleach!"

I fired back without even looking at him; my attention was on the witch. Through the mental fog and drool I thought I could detect a vague sense of chagrin, for lack of a better word. I crossed the distance to her and waited for her eyes to lazily focus on me, signaling the retrieval unit on duty. This one was led by Francis, and so was half competent; they were already crossing the distance.

"Last gamble didn't work out; tough break."

Fright flickered into being now, she knew what that meant. Her whisper was expected.

"Please just kill me now."

"Sorry, no can do. If I were to try that now I'd be stopped. You made that choice a month ago."

As she was pulled away I nodded to Francis but caught Sarah frowning out of the corner of my eye. Frowning at me?

"What?"

"Nothing Sasha. So, how do I enter this? Two teams, class A capture?"

Witch hunting was separated into classes to make it easier to categorize, and to give bureaucrats jobs. Though if they all
looked like Sarah I wouldn't mind it so much. There was class C (brand new witch, like the one I hunted down before that was
no real threat to a hunter). Class B, which were mainly the target of the reds (new hunters, or recruits, the lowest rung of
combat arm.) and class A, the targets of the blacks (my own arm, experienced and deadly assassins of the supernatural, usually
with years of experience.)

Then of course there were the S's. Class S threats should only be handled by the whites, our bosses. Witch hunters so experienced they were actually greying, and whose nick names were all they were referred to by anymore. Like my boss, the gloom.

But in this case, a class A capture meant one class A witch, hunted, and captured as opposed to killed; more pay involved in a capture, because sometimes the witches would try to free their own, if only to have the captured witch owe their benefactor a
favor. That was the gamble the witch had lost; not even a class S would try to free a witch once they were in central; it was
suicide.

"Hah! As if. One team, class A capture; one team, useless as... well as useless as a useless thing!"

He and his team didn't do anything but get caught, so they shouldn't get any money for it. And we definately shouldn't have to
split with them. This ain't a charity!

The room darkened. From down the mount we heard clearly:

"Two teams, class A, Sasha's team, two class C's."

I tried to hold in the scowl. The Gloom had spoken. Though I did wonder how he knew about that second class C in the Crimea...
he always seemed to know, and that was pretty off-putting. I had to find out how some day. And beat him. Definitely beat him.
Oh well, at least the two class C's should make up for it. I wouldn't even object that I killed both solo; I didn't have a death wish, contrary to popular rumor.

But one day, oh yes, one day....

Fingers were snapped in front of my face.

"You alright boss? You got that gleam in your eye. I'd hate to have to squeegee you off the Gloom's walls again."

I looked down my nose at Ivan, which was hard to do since he was a full head taller than me; I almost fell over trying it, but managed.

"Perfectly fine my good man, now that the hard part is over, let's go get some drinks."

And maybe find some entertainment we wouldn't have to pay for. Like maybe Dustin, my fists, and a dark alley. Once again the voice from on high interrupted.

"Sasha. Don't forget to check your generator."

Right, right. When in central we were required to check in our generators and get them inspected to make sure they weren't going to die when out in the field. That and hunters with generators getting rowdy tended to be a minor issue. I had a habit of 'forgetting'. The Gloom wasn't going to let that pass this time, I supposed.

Could he really still hold a grudge over that club?!? I mean sure it was his favorite, but it had obviously lagged far behind in keeping up with the city's fire codes! I was not to blame for that, I had been absolved! ...Well, mostly absolved. It's not like anyone died or anything.

Oh well, I knew when I wasn't wanted. It meant we had to go into the dungeon. Our lab away from lab. Or something. I hated the place really... it was where all the crazies hung out. The large bank vault door with the bio-metric lock was kind fo a dead giveaway. My hand an eye both scanned, I waited impatiently while my team and the other team that should not be named lest their naming cause them to appear also scanned in; the vault would not open until everyone near it was scanned.

The process took five minutes, 39 seconds... which might as well have been an hour. But at least the pop out grenade launchers weren't activated, which meant we were all still employed. The corridor beyond was pitch black and sloped downward; The torches were out today. I entered without fear. Or visible fear anyway. Never let our science staff see you sweat... they will take a sample, then demand blood.

No one was brave enough to find out what they asked for if you gave them blood.

But that was the price of being humanity's savior; trudging through the pitch black corridors where the mad science was conducted. Everyone sort of tightened up their formation; Alice was almost on my back, and strangely enough Dustin wasn't that far either, for all the studied aloofness he showed.

That was just silly. You couldn't show fear; they smelled it. They were like sharks or dogs that way.

Unfortunately they were awake and paying attention, too. Including the chief whack-job, one Emil Saums. A man in his mid 40's that was perhaps more stitched together than Frankenstien's monster, and yet, had only the slightest of scars from it. He also had sharp, filed teeth and a laid back demeanor that somehow put me on edge... and frankly terrified everyone else.

There was also the scandalous rumor that he was my father, something about us acting alike. Pure bull. But I didn't need to respond to those rumors, because somehow anyone who spoke them ended up sick. The last case was a case of explosive diarrhea, 3 years ago. It had lasted over 2 weeks. Not too many spoke up after that, and nothing was ever proven.

No it wasn't me; I'd have just shot them and forgotten it. It wasn't in my nature to hold a grudge.

In any case, he was hunched over the bin, picking out generators to process; that was the other reason people didn't like him, he was the one who checked (or fondled) our sources of power. Who knows what kind of things he did to them. From the looks of things he was running out; only 3 generators were in the bin for servicing. I didn't recognize any of them.

Other people disliked that he was a noted expert on the field of witch biology and of how their powers worked. He led the experiments on witches after all. And the rumor mill had those experiments ranging from the innocous... to ones that would be considered war crimes in other ages. I didn't believe those rumors (or more to the point, didn't care) but I still thought his nickname of 'monster' was fitting.

"Yo monster, more work for you."

He looked up and winced as I dropped my generator in the bin, taking note of the glow as it rattled around inside. Hey, the things were built for combat, I doubted a small 2 feet drop was going to make one go nuclear.

"You should be more careful, Sasha. So, how many was it this time?"

"Just two c's and a captured A."

Even I was unsettled by the gleam in his eye, but only slightly.

"A captured A?"

"Yep, a mind-bender. A real piece of work; Knock yourself out."

He grabbed me and clasped my hands in gratitude. His own hands were cold and clammy.

"Oh thank you Sasha, thank you!"

I managed to free myself and wiped my hands on my coat. One could never tell where his had been.

"You're welcome. Just play nice, eh?"

I told him that every time. I'm not even sure why; the witches weren't human. They certainly didn't play nice with us. And Monster gave his patented solemn response.

"Of course Sasha."

He then looked at everyone else.

"Well? Place them in, and get out. There's science to be done!"

There was a chorus of clatters as everyone else placed their generators into the bin then left without a word.... and quite a bit of haste. I sauntered, myself. Maybe a bit on the quick side, but everyone else was too busy fleeing to notice.

"Hey Doc?"

"Yes?"

He had already gone straight to my genny, forgoing the others.

"Have it ready by tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Keep it up Sasha, you always do such wonderful work...."

The vault door closed behind me, cutting off anything else he might have to say. Whew.

Ivan draped himself around me, steering me towards the door.

"Alright, time to celebrate!"

I should probably be practicing forms, but what the hell. A little drink or three never hurt anyone.

From the outside central looked like a giant modern pyramid, gleaming reddish gold in the sun from the electrum runes chased across it's burnished steel surface. It was as close to impregnable as could be fashioned with modern understanding, from both mundane and magical weaponry. Some of the security was even automated, like the unmanned aerial drones that did fly bys, scanning with radar and targeting threats with missiles and machine guns.

While the city had been attacked more than once, it had only been attacked by witches twice in it's 200 plus year history. Both times the attacks had been foiled with great loss of life to the attackers. While the last one had hurt us hunters too, it had all but destroyed the strongest witches in the world at the time and was responsible for our current stalemate and cold (ish) war. They simply lacked the resources and manpower... or womanpower, to launch effective counterattacks. And our picking their new blood off one by one was only hurting them more.

The bars of course, started the street over; in the direction we were headed, they continued for a solid block. Our favorite of course, was the first one; the leaky toilet, a wonderfully horrid dive of sin and inequity. Sawdust on the rotting wooden floor, torches instead of good quality lamps or lights, and a large one eyed bartender weighing in at 150 kilos, and not all of it fat. You couldn't find better ambiance anywhere else!

Throwing some random guy who was sitting at my favorite table (in the back, with a good view of the only doors in) to the floor, I raised a hand to the waitress, one Emilia Watts. She was a pretty little redheaded thing that of course wouldn't give me the time of day, unless she was patting me on the head. True to form, she sidled over and did so.

"Hey there little Sasha, what can I get you?"

Must...not...maim....

Ivan stopped the knife in my hand casually, and Emilia didn't even blink.

"A beer of course. Just bring a couple pitchers."

"Coming right up!"

She sidled off and I sheathed the knife. At least she didn't completely ignore me, like she did Dustin. I could tell that annoyed him no end. He had always fancied himself a bit of a ladies' man. I don't remember ever seeing him with a female who wasn't slapping him though... or trying to kill him.

Luckily enough booze cured all ills. Soon we were all having a great time, Dustin's team (names? Who cares?) were regaling us with their exploits in the Bavarian hinterlands, which apparently involved a lot of fleas and ticks, and some witch that liked to use dolls. I was then begged/harassed to tell the tale of the class C I had chased, which took almost no time at all really. I mean it was only a three day chase and subsequent execution, nothing much to tell.

"You're way too dedicated, Sasha." Said generic female team member/moron number one on Dustin's team.

"Why thank you, miss...."

She sighed.

"Sylvie, Sasha, Sylvie Bonner. How do you always forget my name? And that wasn't exactly a compliment."

"Meh, you can't expect me to remember the name of every hot chick hunter Dustin decides to use as cannon fodder."

She blushed, then paled. It was a curious reaction. Beside her, Dustin sprayed his drink all over Ivan.

"That's not...!"

"Oh come on Dusty, how many are we up to? Three? Four now? It's got to be at least that many."

He flushed angrily.

"Just shut up and drink your beer, before I end you."

"Any time any place any way, buddy. I'll cut another few inches off you so there can be no doubt who is tallest!"

"Tomorrow, no generators, no weapons, in the arena."

Ivan face-palmed and Alicia muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I knew it".

"Sure thing buddy. Better call medical and get your normal room reserved for you. But for now, drink time! Em, another round for everyone!"

There were cheers.

(tbc)

“The day dawned clear and cold. Birdsong traveled a great distance in the clear air, and stars could be seen clearly opposite the sun, as had been possible in days of yore, before the coming of science and technology. Evil, banished from without had taken up residence within the crumbling remains of fortresses and war machines gone by.

Get up, Sasha, or I'll read more.”

Oh hell, it was the Gloom, and he was reading that freaking lame author he was so fond of quoting to me; Nargle-bargle, or something. Guy was an ass.

“Gloom, with all due respect, it's my day off. You yourself gave me this day off, and such things are glorious treasures of the gods. So kindly sod off.”

He snapped that stupid book shut and strode over. My head pounded in time to his beat.

“Get. Up. Sasha.”

Each word was emphasized by a kick that had the pointed end of the Gloom's ridiculous boots digging for my heart through my ribs. For all of that, I could have ignored him, if not for the noise!

“Alright, alright, I'm up, I'm up.”

He continued ranting almost as if he hadn't heard me.

“Sheesh, I'm the leader of the Hunters; I have better things to so than to get drunk morons up so they can pound each other to paste in the arena. But no, you two idiots had to set up a match last night while drunk - again, and now there are so many bets riding on it that it would crash our economy to have you both sleep it off and forfeit.”

Wait, I had an arena match this morning? Who with? I had to stop drinking in Central. Was it somebody good?

“Come on, get up. You need to meet Dustin in the arena in 15 minutes or you forfeit.”

Oh, it was only Dustin. I could kill him later... when my head wasn't about to fall off.

“If you forfeit you'll cost Tonya a month's pay.”

Oh, shit!

“I'm up, I'm up! Where are my guns?!? Got any aspirin? Or some of that cure?”

The cure was the gloom's patented hangover cure. No, really. It was patented and sold in the gift shop downstairs, under his name. For all that it was made of essence of curdled death and damned souls, it worked, and worked in a matter of minutes. Perhaps it was the paprika too, what did I know about cooking?

I needed it, and needed it now. Tonya was one of the Gloom's old partners, (who wasn't old... may God have mercy on your shriveled soul if you implied that) Who went by the moniker of Plague. Guess what she could do with her generator? Not to mention she was insanely tough; I could shoot her with actual bullets, not the watered down crap I tended to use on people to avoid all those pesky murder charges, and she just shrugged them off.

She was my number one fan too. It was downright terrifying. If I made her lose cash, she would make me lose parts of myself I'd rather keep. Or maybe just camp outside my door to see whether I'd lost because I was sick or something.

The Gloom handed over a can of his juiced up sewer water with a lopsided grin. I drank it on the way out, and was proud of the fact I only wobbled a little. Most people drinking that crap would fall twitching to the floor, and foam at the mouth for a few. I was made of sterner stuff.

By the time we had made it to the arena, I was walking straight and more or less conscious, patting myself on the back as being one amazing guy... and found Dustin already there. Looking more than presentable, with a bevy of lovelies around him.

The arena was full and standing room only, mostly with off duty hunters, or those that claimed to be off duty. There had to be a few brave civilians in the crowd as well. I saw hands, my favorite bookie working the crowd, and gave him a nod.

And in my corner was... plague.

Life just wasn't fair. Right. Time to hurt someone, preferably him.

“You ready Sasha? You need some of Gloom's cure?”

“Already had it. It's fine. I don't need to be one hundred percent to do this; after all it's only Dustin.”

She gave me a long look, then nodded.

“Just remember not to kill him, OK?”

I scoffed loud enough so that everyone could hear me.

“Nah I''ll take it easy. If Dustin dies it'll be his own fault for being so weak.”

Dustin bristled predictably.

“I'm not weak you bastard! You're going down today!”

Flies could make such interesting noises, buzzing around. Even the loud ones.

“Whatever. Just beat him, Sasha... or I'll kill you.”

Delivered with a bright sunny face and an 'I'm-so-innocent-butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth' tone. Damn but plague could be scary. Not to mention as persistent as the flu. Fine, so she wanted a win, huh? Well so did I. A quick win, so I could go back to sleep.

According to the duel rules, we were required to start the duel 20 large steps away from each other; mid range, for one of us. That put Dustin at a momentary disadvantage, every match. Sometimes I backed up for more space. Some times I didn't. Today it was time to pull a trick I rarely used however. This time I would charge.

I usually only tried to use this trick once a year; not enough so he would come to expect it, but I usually wanted to end a fight quickly at least once. Sometimes it was a challenge not to use it more.

It opened up huge holes in his fighting style, but I wasn't his martial arts instructor, and he wouldn't listen to me even if I pointed it out. So why bother? It was someone else's problem. Gloom glared at us both.

“You two idiots ready?”

He nodded at exactly the same time as me. The bastard. I resolved to give him an extra shot just for that.

“Begin!”

Gloom was wrapped in shadows before the word finished slipping from him, and I didn't blame him; he knew what these duels between us were like.

I was off like... well like a shot from one of my guns, right towards Dustin's stupid, smug face. The comic surprise creeping over him in slow motion fuel to my hatred. Being hung over did not affect my draw in any way.

Hell, being half dead wouldn't affect my draw. I wasn't sure about fully dead yet, but I doubted it.

My guns came up, the one on the right sighting directly on his stupid weapon; two shots knocking it well wide of me. The left went under his chin.

I gave him a jaunty eye wiggle just as his brain caught up to the fact that he'd been beaten again, then shot once and removed the gun, letting him fall into the dirt. Then in keeping with my promise made to myself, I put another in his ribs. He twitched, but didn't react otherwise.

“Winner, Sasha.”

Glooms announcement was almost drowned out by the high pitched squee from my 'corner', where Plague was jumping up and down in a most interesting manner. If only she could just stop talking! Or hexing people, that would be great too.

The roar and groans of the crowd made me wince, Gloom's cure or no. The groans were from the morons that bet on Dustin. Fools like that deserved to lose their money; he never ever beat me. All those times people like to cite in the past were flukes, or didn't happen. Whatever, time to go back to bed.

“Sasha, a word?”

Uh oh. What did I do this time?

“What is it, Gloom?”

“There is a situation in the Urals I'd like you to investigate. I know you're due some down time, but I'm short hunters at the moment; Cedric was killed last week and Merp is on loan to Italy. Dustin is the only other one I could send and, well....”

He gave Dustin an experimental kick to the same ribs I'd shot. Dustin didn't even twitch this time.

“Yeah I get you. But you get to canvas around. If my team wants to come, great, but I'm not forcing them. They need the downtime more than I do. Me, I'm always ready. You know that.”

“Yeah I know, it's just.... No, never mind. Go get some sleep, so you can leave at first light tomorrow.”

“Yeah yeah, I'm going you nag.”

“Nag, is it? Get out before I challenge you, and get Plague to referee. I suppose I could even get her to play doctor afterward.”

Shudder. That was so far below the belt it wasn't funny. I took the hint, opening the arena doors so the medics could see to the moron.

Honestly the ribs would likely be the worst of it. His head was so hard the non lethal rounds barely knocked him out. And that only sometimes.

It was a good thing; after all, if he couldn't handle a friendly spar from one of us, how could he handle a witch? It was a simple case of tough love. The life of a hunter was usually brutal and brief.

The funny thing was, despite that we didn't have any lack of recruits; it was a pity so few survived to adulthood. Orphans like myself usually had the easiest time; we had nothing left to live for, and it showed in our training regime.

People who still had outside interests or a lack of dedication usually died within days of their first assignment. So what if those of us left were a little... off? We got the job done. Even if we had to be brutal and heartless ourselves.

Introspection was for morons too. What was I doing thinking about all this now?

I managed to make it back to my room, and locked the door this time to prevent interruptions. Not that it would stop the Gloom, but it stopped Plague – most of the time – and I knew she was following me. Waking up with her staring me in the face was just plain creepy. Almost as disturbing as her nick name for me; “cash-cow.”

I was a bull, if anything; large strong and virile!

On second though, propping a chair against the door knob was also a good idea.

That done, I flopped on my battered bed; clothes, guns, and all.

…........................................................................

Again, some jackass was pounding on my door. Jackasses and I needed to stop meeting like this. At least this time I was actually rested.

“Sasha, come on, get up boss-man.”

Ivan.

I muttered something. I wasn't sure what I was muttering, or who I was muttering it to, since Ivan couldn't hear me... but I did mutter it.

“Come on boss, it's morning. Time to get up and go. I have coffee. And whiskey. And whiskey in the coffee.”

A pretty tempting offer. He was right at least, it was time to get up. I wasn't even mad. I wouldn't tell him though, he might not gift me with bribes.

Opening the door I at least confirmed that it was indeed, my old buddy Ivan before I took the proffered drink and downed it. It was indeed whiskey coffee. An old recipe... from America; Kentucky I think.

“Wow, you're already dressed and ready to go...? No wait, silly me. Of course you slept in your clothes again.”

I handed the empty mug back to him with a shrug, then took his. He looked like he wanted to protest for all of a half a second before I downed his too.

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Getting undressed is a waste of effort. Especially when I'm still hung over. I really only needed to be awake for ten minutes anyway.”

“Good. It is good you are in a good mood and ready. We should be going now. Maybe we can stop by my hometown before we go on to the backwoods, eh?”

“You mean your hometown is still standing?”

He nodded profusely.

“Yes. It is a small place, very backward, and no witches bother it. Was still standing last year at least. I can introduce you to my sister. She would like you, I think.”

“Is she cute?”

“She's larger than I am, and can out wrestle a bear. She might even be hairier than the bear.”

Ick.

“So she might be a sister in arms to Alicia.”

Ivan started helping me as I made sure my gear was packed. All I really did was swap out clothes. For some reason I was always hard on clothes, so I'd long since just kept new and clean ones around in case I had a rush job.

“Quite, but she is nice, and you need a woman in your life.”

“One plague is enough, thanks.”

His silence conceded the point.

One of these days I really should ask the Gloom what Plague's major damage was. Why was she so focused on me? I didn't get it. But of course, it was Plague. Gloom would tell her I asked, and I'd be hexed into half death the rest of my life.

I suspected I knew anyway; I was always good for betting on and winning money from. I could live with that. Hmm, speaking of...

“Alicia coming?”

There really wasn't any doubt; Ivan was here, so he was coming. Alicia on the other hand....

“Yeah she's waiting for us in the main hall. You look to be ready here.”

I eyed my gear, then added more ammo.

“Now I am, yes.”

I didn't want to use my generator power on anything mundane, even the mutant wolves of the Urals. I'd heard the rumors about what that sort of energy did to them. Of course those same rumors had the witches themselves mutating them. I wasn't sure I believed that one.

I mean if they had, why hadn't the witches used them to sweep down from the Urals and kill everything alive in their way? They probably could.

We hit the main hall, the crowd parting before us to make it easy. I almost forgot, but then the whiskey kicked in, so I doubled back to the front desk.

“Got a mission file for me?”

The current attendant was a young fresh faced academy student type. I gave her a week.

“Of course sir!”

She handed me a file that was damn near a book, dropping it. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? I guess it would be good fire tinder. Oh well.

“Let's go people, day is wasting! I want to be on the train within the hour.”

Granted the station was only fifteen minutes away, tops... but the way the bearded lady could dawdle, it could easily be that long. She gave me that look of hers, mustache bristling.

“Sheesh, window shop one time and hear about it forever. It was a great dress!”

“You stared at it for a solid hour. Literally, I timed you.”

“...and?”

“And we found out after you bought it, that it clashed with your beard. The men of the ball were shocked that you could be so tacky, to say the least.”

“Remind me why I haven't killed you yet?”

“Because I'm your boss, and you can't? Because Dustin could tie you up in knots, and I can take him out in – Ivan how many seconds was it yesterday?”

“Six.”

“Right! Six seconds?”

She grumbled. And pouted. And grumbled some more. Which helped us make good time, since with her head down grumbling at me, she didn't see the assorted flashy items for sale on the way to the train station. I swear she had the soul of a tourist. Then again she had the fashion sense too, so I guess it matched.

Who buys pink chiffon as an adult, with lace no less? She looked like a tube of candy lipstick in that thing. But there was something more important.

“Really? Six seconds?”

I thought it had been shorter than that. I was slipping or something.

“Yes, Six seconds, mostly time spent closing distance. The actual time spent firing shots was just under one second, all told. I couldn't get a completely accurate time, but perhaps .8 seconds.”

Damn. An eight-tenths of a second was a little slow to in my opinion. It should be six-tenths. Oh well, just no help for it; I needed more practice. Good thing I never ran out of good quality moving targets.

We didn't need to buy tickets; the trains were clearly marked. I ignored the screaming and running of the lemmings, and marched us to the train we needed. Russia here we come. I didn't open the file until I was safely ensconced in an otherwise empty car, well on our way.

The first paragraph said it all.

Rumors only, actual evidence was sketchy... but rumors that my mother and sister were in the Urals. Those same rumors also place several other witches there, carving out their own fiefdoms. Rumors brought in by superstitious peasants, but the disappearances were real enough. I waved the file at Ivan.

“Your village isn't close to this, is it?”

He didn't look surprised, which meant that he'd already read it.

“No, my village is in the foothills; this is many miles away from them. However it is interesting. What could witches want with cold mountains far away from the civilization they hate? That rnage is inhospitable, even to them.”

“Unless you're powerful enough not to care about the laws of nature.”

Something that fit both my mother and sister, all over. Both had over a dozen hunter kills to their credit, and probably thousands of civilian deaths. For all that power though, I couldn't shake the feeling that they liked to run from me. I always arrived a little too late to stop either of them. And last time my mentor had met my mother, well....

While one had died, the other had been so injured in the fight she hadn't been seen since.

And now there was an eyewitness report that placed her in the Urals.

I was nowhere near as good as my teacher had been; but I owed it to her to try and finish what she started, even if dear old mom and I didn't have prior history. I was giddy at the prospect; I would not lose.

….............................................

Wrapped in my comforting gloom, the hallmark of my power, I waited. There were some people that creeped even me, the acknowledged master of shadows, right the fuck out. My next 'guest' was one of them.

Plague showed it in. Not he or she, it. Marcus “Merlin” DeStaglio, one of the most brilliant minds to be born in any century... and crazy as hell. He had come up with a few theories regarding witch powers after redesigning the generators and truly mind boggling amounts of study and vivisection.

And then promptly applied those same theories to himself in an experiment that I felt should never be repeated. The experiment had been a qualified success, of a sort. Merlin had indeed become a little closer to it's namesake, able to manipulate small objects like pens and scalpels with much concentration.

Merlin had also gained a ghost of a hat, more sized to a doll than to a human, but a small wispy beret hidden among all that hair.

The fact that Merlin had become essentially both genders; with small breasts, a childlike body, and an equally small flacid penis was disregarded, if not treated by it with outright disdain. It dressed as a she, being small and childlike in form, the small dresses fit. And to Merlin's everlasting amusement, it served as lolicon attractant.

I turned my back on what went on behind closed doors as a matter of course among my own, but Merlin would be dead before I could blink if not for that mind, steadily working away. It had Emil Saum's ear though, and I had to admit the ideas were interesting.

If Snipe ever found out what I was thinking though, she'd come back from the grave to kick my ass.

“Well?”

That high pitched voice also put me on edge.

“He is almost perfect for our use. He has the genes, his lineage is clear. It runs strong within his family.”

I stared pointedly; it didn't react at all, staring back placidly at me. Which meant I was forced to ask.

“And the... side effects?”

“There shouldn't be any. I was... unsuitable for the experiment. I did not possess all the genes necessary. Even now, with all my manipulations, the power gained is negligible. He is such a strong candidate that such manipulations would be redundant. He has the genes, and is alive as a male, that is all the evidence we need; all other male children I've come across like him are stillborn. I would have... benefited from knowing of his existence before my own practical experiments took place.”

Like sniper would let you anywhere near Sasha.

“And that alone explains why you didn't know.”

It nodded, unperturbed. Something was seriously wrong with this... thing. Why was I even considering this?

“Right. Well, drastic measures need be taken in our circumstances. Under current models we will lose the war completely within a year; this is necessary. I am glad you now see reason. So when can I...”

“You can't. Sasha has to agree. The choice is his. And since he's currently on a mission, you'll just have to wait a little longer.”

It was the only way I would be able to live with myself, going forward with this. Hurry up Sasha, make this choice unnecessary.

The Urals were like any number of other mountain ranges. Cold and large. Large and cold. Inhospitable in the extreme. And like all the other inhospitable places the world over, crazy humans were already somehow living there. That alone said much about humanity, if you thought about it. I was not much for introspection however; I had my mind firmly on more important things as we finally strode our of the blinding snow and biting wind.

“Beer me.”

The rather charming looking Russian girl (more charming than the moose she was trying to resemble with that pole-axed look for the moment, at least) hesitated. So I felt repeating myself in the manner best used for those terminally slow in the head was needed.

“Beer. Now. Not five minutes from now. Right now.”

She moved.

“Sasha, you need to work on your tact. It's obvious the poor girl isn't used to outsiders. Some people need to get their stare on.”

Well that was just stupid.

“Staring is fine... after I get beer. And maybe some food. She can be all fascinated as I check my toes for frostbite. But you got to prioritize.”

Alicia backed me up, unwinding that scarf she'd picked up on the way from her face and shaking the snow and ice out of it. Oh well, can't have everything.

“For once I agree with the pipsqueek. People can stare all they want... while getting us what we need. This IS an inn, after all. Poor customer service could affect repeat business!”

“We are probably the first outsiders the girl has ever seen. I can't imagine they get many visitors up here. Just too damn cold.”

The 'girl' was probably older than I was, come to think of it. But it was always experience over years, after all. I was well traveled, and she probably hadn't taken 10 steps out of this god-forsaken alley. Ivan defended his him, but couldn't keep his tone even.

“More than you might think, Sasha, Alicia. The mountains farther North in particular seem to be tourist hotspots.”

As good a veiled warning to keep your guard up as any I've gotten; Ivan was saying this entire village could be compromised right now. Though there was no hat on the waitress, that didn't mean much. It could be hidden among her clothes. It was always harder to tell in the colder climes, and therefore more dangerous.

The innkeeper was a man, and judging by the features as the two stood side by side, both wringing their hands while trying to appear unimpressed by our august personages, related closely to the waitress. Probably her father. Which was a good sign, since most of the time family members died first to a witch. The lack of care worn lines etched into the happy father's face also spoke of a carefree, and therefore witch free life. I could ignore the frown directed at us.

Then the jolly bundle of love recognized Ivan, who had finally taken his own headgear off (a ski mask that he had packed; where he found one in this day and age I will never know... mostly because he won't tell me, the bastard).

“Ivan! As I live and breathe! It has been years! What brings you back to our little patch of heaven?”

“You know what, Gregor. You're the one who sent the letter, after all.”

And just like that suspicion all but vanished. Gregor here wouldn't want hunters on the trail if his daughter were a witch. Though it wouldn't be the first time such a trick had been pulled on us, it was highly unlikely.

“I did; so you received it. I had some worry sending Albert. He is as far away from his namesake as one could get.”

Ivan snorted, making me curious.

“Isn't that the truth. Still, he did manage the trails and roads alright. Made it to us virtually unmolested.”

“Virtually?”

“Well he had an incident with wolves, so he says. I think it was more an angry boyfriend on a morning after, but he could actually be telling the truth this time.”

The girl snorted this time, making me REALLY curious. Sounded like this Albert guy would be fun to know. Or annoy me worse than Dustin, and get in a dreadful 'accident'. Which could be amusing too, I guess.

“So who are your friends, Ivan?”

Ivan pointed us out in turn as he named us.

“Well this is Alicia Fraun, and this is Sasha Norre.”

The inkeeper's eyes went wild. A bit later the daughter seemed to make the connection, and almost spilled my beer with her shaking hands.

“Wait, THE Sasha Norre? The Maniacal Marksman?”

Ahh, my fame preceded me. Even in a backwards pest hole in the Urals I was known. I was in a pretty good mood, so of course the waitress had to ruin it.

“You're a boy?!? I thought you were...”

“Thought I was what?”

“Sasha, holster the gun please. I know these people.”

Grumbling, I did as asked. The waitress didn't help matters when she actually answered my question, proving that Albert wasn't the only 'special' person to come from this village.

“I thought you were a girl who had a sore throat from the cold.”

“Sasha, no. It's impolite to murder the beer wench, eh?”

I lowered my gun again.

“You're right. More beer, beer wench. Lot's more. And whatever you have hot to eat. I'm sick of chewing on snow.”

“Right away!”

She could move pretty quickly in that dress of hers. I turned to the innkeeper.

“So, any news further up the range?”

He smoothed his features, pasted on a smile, and shook his head. Honestly, it was like people thought I was an ogre or something. The real danger wasn't me at all.

“No, nothing. No word of any kind from the two villages further up, nor those on the other side of the mountain.”

Which meant it was almost certain that there was something to the rumors of witches. No word from four villages, in over a month, after one person got out to spread the rumor? It was almost certainly a trap. But a trap for who? If it was my mother, I was not arrogant about our chances.

Chances were that unless the hunters involved were very sneaky, and got in a lethal strike before she knew they were there... she'd murder them. It wouldn't even be close. And I was maybe the only one who stood any kind of real chance, other than Gloom himself, or his team. But I doubted any trap here was meant for me; it just didn't make much sense.

After all, mother could find me any time she wanted. I was positive of that fact, since I never tried to hide. No witch who wanted to find me would have to look especially hard.

But a trap for Gloom or any other of the strongest of us was likely. Which made it a good thing we hadn't sent anyone like that, even as it made it more dangerous for us personally.

But all it really meant was that we would have to go and scout for ourselves, and go from there. We were completely blind in this. I was lucky I had Ivan, who at least knew the area. One of the most immediate questions was burning in my mind. Why had this village been spared the invasion of the mad hatters? Why not just collect them all?

Something to ponder in between beers.

Ivan and Alicia both seemed to have the same idea; together we emptied the first pitcher in seconds. The food was some sort of sausage and potato dish. Filling and plenty of it, we wasted no time packing it away. As the sun set, it somehow managed to get colder in here. The big roaring fire did what it could, but something told me the lack of central heating would be an annoyance.

We needed sleep, and then a fresh start. So I went upstairs and chose a room while Alicia settled up the bill. From the sounds of it, Alicia wasn't happy to be the one chosen to settle up, but if they didn't ask me, and didn't ask Ivan, who else were they going to ask? I could hardly blame them if they didn't want to approach my august amazingness.

The rooms were too cold for the usual bugs or vermin to infest; which was a pretty good cheap alternative to pesticides, come to think of it. Judging by this room, all the rooms had fireplaces of their own, with wood fully stocked. I lit the conveniently set fire, set the grate, then jumped under the covers. It was almost like being back at my home for the winter.

Except there was no homicidal family waiting to murder me. Those lay further up the road.

…...........................................

Morning was, unfortunately, a morning. That's about the best thing that could be said about it. It was the kind of morning where a man wanted beer. Dark earthy Russian ale; the breakfast of champions. Of course, it was cold. The fire was still burning though, which meant someone had come in the night or early morning, and re-stoked it. Without waking me. A very neat trick.

Must have been the bar wench. I doubted the innkeeper had light enough steps.

I was actually well rested for once; piling your way through snow drifts as big as you were all day in order to walk in mind numbing cold tended to wear a person out, even if they were the pinnacle of human perfection.

So I threw on some clothes and walked downstairs; finding the rising sun greeting me. The bar wench was yawning as she pushed a ratty broom around, which was witch like behavior – but then no witch alive would be caught dead in that apron. At least not with a dress on underneath. There was that one witch in France....

But then again, this wasn't France. A fact I was reminded of when the girl spotted me and threw the broom away with a loud mouse like squeak. She acted like she'd just called me short or something! Though, come to think of it, she was taller than me, and could obviously stand to lose a few inches....

“I'm sorry sir, you startled me.”

“Apology accepted, and good morning. So what's your name? I can hardly keep calling you 'beer wench'. Though, if you want me to keep calling you that I suppose it's fine.”

She squeaked again, and her face turned more red than the fire in the hearth.

“My name is Eva, sir.”

“Sasha. Pleased to meet you. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, could you get me a beer and some food? Preferably something with a few less potatoes in than yesterday?”

“Right away sir!”

And just like that, she bounced off. I picked up her broom, kicked out a chair to slump in, and waited.

It was a good fifteen minutes later (I had already checked my guns and ammunition twice; all was well on that front) when she rushed back in with more of that dark ale and a plate of eggs and bacon, with some sort of dark bread on the side. I exchanged the plate for her broom.

“Don't let me stop you.”

She got back to work while I ate. I finished well before she did. I didn't raise a fuss however; I was feeling rather mellow.

Ivan came down just as she finished, and the innkeeper guy, Gregor, came out of the kitchen to gather the plate (aiming a dirty look at Eva, who had taken forever to push that broom around). He all but jumped through the roof as he saw me calmly sipping my beer.

“Sasha! You're up early. Sleep well?”

“Yes, actually. So tell me, Gregor, Eva... were any of you in my room last night, stoking my fire?”

Eva's eyes got very wide as she stammered denials I couldn't even understand. They were in Russian (which I knew) but so broken I couldn't follow them. Gregor just shook his head and added.

“It is policy to do so if asked, but you did not ask, and thanks to your... reputation I thought it imprudent.”

“That's what I thought.”

Ivan caught on almost immediately.

“You would know us by tread, if Alicia or I did it, but we didn't. You would wake up for an unfamiliar tread.”

A survival trait; one did not long survive if they were a heavy sleeper. I finished the thought. I most pointedly did not think about how Ivan knew Alicia couldn't have been the one to do it, though I had my suspicions.

“So a familiar tread that wouldn't wake you up, stoked your fire. While not stoking ours. Alicia turned the service down while I of course, am immune to cold.”

And he actually thumped his chest. I was too relieved at hearing they had spent the night in different rooms to call him on it; after all he had been whining about the temperature freezing his water in the canteen just last week! But as always, he saw to the heart of the matter; something was definitely going on.

She was here.

Which she, I wasn't sure, but at least one of them was. Worse, they knew I was here. They had in fact, singled me out in such a way that I would know that they knew. I was betting it was mom. After all, who else would tuck me in and stoke the fire?

Sis could have done it, but like me, she wasn't known for being subtle. Or nice. Just ask Antwerp, that is if you could find a survivor.

And all this had happened with three experienced hunters in the inn, and two other people, and none had been the wiser. I nodded at Ivan, and he got the message, going upstairs to check on Alicia. I on the other hand decided to look around.

I had just come to the conclusion that the inn was clear of nasty surprises when Ivan came down, leading a rather irate Alicia.

“What the hell is the big idea, Ivan?!? I haven't even had my eight hours yet!”

Ivan just led her up to me without a word. She took one look at my face and shut up. Which was good, because I didn't want to yell over her.

“A witch was here last night. They crept through my room, stoked my fire, and left. All without killing anyone, or taking anything.”

I used no names, but credit given, Alicia knew exactly what I meant.

“Just great. Breakfast then please, beer wench.”

I couldn't help myself. I channeled my inner Dustin, making myself as snooty voiced as I could. I looked down at her as much as I could while looking up at her to reply.

“Her name, is Eva.”

I turned to Gregor.

“We need some supplies.”

He also got the point immediately.

“I'll make a list of what I have,”

And he left without a backward glance. After all the sooner we were gone, the sooner the more immediate threat to his town and townsfolk eased back to it's prior level. And hey, that level must be pretty low, since they weren't dead yet. Though the chances were they had been kept alive just for the illusion of normalcy.

Still no reason to make the risk a near certainty. A warning is a warning is a warning.

Alicia and Ivan both were eating as we left, bags packed and supplies restocked. Most importantly, the liquid refreshment; we did tend to go through the beer really quickly. The next village was a good three days away, but the trail (calling it a road was a little more generous than I was feeling) that Ivan showed us was straight and clear of normal threats, or so he said.

Since he was our local guide, I let him break the trail. It had nothing to do with some of the drifts being as tall as I was, or the snow being too loose for proper snowshoes. Despite what Alicia said. The journey was uneventful, unless you count seeing deer as being eventful. Even the dead fall trap that almost killed me was a yawn-fest.

Honestly I was beginning to get angry; it was like they weren't even trying.

Then Ivan wanted to stop for lunch. He was wet and miserable looking, like a giant drowned bear. But he was a slacker; I wasn't even tired! But whatever. He sat and drank his lunch while I collected the least soggy tinder I could find. We would want a fire later; places like this got truly miserable after dark, and good dry tinder wasn't always accessible.

The rest of the day passed much as the first half; if not for the cold and snow, this would be a nice relaxing nature hike. The thought made me physically ill. Ivan knew me.

“Sasha, don't go borrowing trouble.”

“but, not even a bear! It's been all day! All freaking day!!!”

“Soon we shall have more violence than we can all three handle. You just need to be patient.”

“I don't DO patience. You know this.”

Alicia threw a rock at me. Really.

“Suck it up and learn how. I'm not getting killed because you can't get your adrenaline fix, you damn junkie.”

An opening! I retorted in my best, most reasonable voice.

“You do realize throwing a stone at a violence prone adrenaline junkie is asking to die, right?”

Ivan managed to sound a lot like a mother (well at least one that wasn't homicidal) as he sighed.

“Please you two, no fighting, or I'll turn this expedition around.”

Sigh. I wanted to shoot something. I couldn't even shoot the trees! The guns would make too much noise, and draw unwanted attention. Of course that was on the off chance we hadn't already been made, which was highly unlikely. I was pretty sure my personality was well known among our enemies; namely how I wouldn't waste time when there was a witch to kill. Or maybe that was my arrogance talking, who knew?

Yes, I was a bit arrogant, sometimes. A little. I could even admit it and be humble. In between all those times of being awesome, that is.

As boring as it all was, I didn't signal the halt until the sun was beginning to dip. Once it got dark it would get cold fast, which meant it was time to clear some snow and get a fire going. I let Ivan clear the frozen ground, and Alicia set up the shelter (which was little more than a lean-to set very close to the fire pit; she was lazy) While I gathered the fire wood. Of course, when I got back to find everything ready and so dumped my first load of wood in the newly made fire circle, Alicia decided to take issue with how I did things.

“That crap will never burn; it's too wet.”

Heh. I removed one of my incendiary shells from my pocket. Hey, whether I knew how to make a proper fire or not, this was obviously life or death! A battle against the elements and nature itself! And every proper battle followed one simple doctrine.

Shoot it until it stops moving.

“Uh, Sasha... that's a high yield incendiary shell.”

Alicia started edging back while Ivan face-palmed.

“Yes, so it is.”

“What do you intend to do with it?”

I stared at him, aghast.

“Isn't it obvious, Ivan? I mean, really?!?”

“Yes Sasha, it is, but wouldn't your flint steel or your lighter work just as well?”

I allowed that point.

“Quite likely Ivan, but it won't be nearly as much fun!”

And a quick twist of the primer and toss later, and the wet wood was covered in small amounts of napalm and burning merrily. Now we could all take our hands out of these stupid stiff gloves and dry out. And right at the edge of camp was enough wood for the entire night. I was lazy myself, but not lazy enough to freeze.

I settled in while my staunch companions eased their way back to the circle of light. Since no one else thought to, I took out my bag of pebbles and set them close enough to soak up heat; I'd use them to line my sleeping gear later. That's what I brought them for, after all. I bet Ivan had a set, he seemed to recognize them. Alicia looked a little lost, and chalked me carrying small smooth rocks around as if I was insane.

Well I was, but not about this at least.

Day one down and no one dead; small steps I guess.

Several uneventful days of travel eating deer jerky and tough bread. Several days of having Ivan break a trail for us through the snow; the trail hadn't been used in about a month after all. We hadn't even seen a bear, and nothing had been caught in the few traps Ivan and I had set at nights. Even the bear would have been welcome; the jerky was getting old.

But none of that mattered; this morning did. I was on my belly in the snow, whited out as best I could, staring through a pair of binoculars at the village the original report had come from. In that village, it was business as usual. The men were hunting or thatching or carpenter... ing. The women were cooking or gathering eggs or mending clothes.

Everything was low tech, just as Ivan's hometown had been. I didn't see so much as a generator, or a water pump. No electric lights. Everything done was by fires. It was pissing me off; hadn't these people heard of space heaters?

I didn't see her. I didn't see either of them. What I did see was a new, large log cabin further up the mountain. Well, more of a log fortress, really. The palisade was going up, even as I watched; there were eight people I could see working on it.

The one technology represented with surprising regularity, even given where we are, were firearms. After just an hour cataloging the different types, from well cared for antiques to modern machine manufactured numbers. I was now willing to bet everyone had them, and the women were just better hiding them in their dresses or something. They were packing more visible heat than one of our chapter houses... well most of them.

We didn't speak of the Borneo anymore.

“What do you think, Ivan?”

He was looking through his own set of binoculars while Alicia just fumed. She'd forgotten hers.

“Looks mostly normal. If not for the fact that everyone is armed, and there was a new mayor in town, I'd feel comfortable walking right in.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There were no armies being trained on the icy green, no magical death ray in evidence, none of the things you'd expect from the enemy. Still, it was a base camp for them. Not a summer home, but still a place where conceivably, they could be holed up, safe from our influence. If they thought that, they were fools. Our arm was just as long as theirs.

“Well nothing for it I guess.”

I removed my binoculars from my face and Alicia immediately swiped them without so much as a please, training them on the village to get her own impressions.

“Sasha, no. We can't just walk in there; it's a trap.”

“Of course it's a trap; it's our trap. They just don't know it yet.”

“I'm telling you your standard approach won't work here; not this time.”

“And I'm telling you it will.”

I responded pleasantly enough. Ivan was a worrywart, was all. A village full of peasants, good odds on two witches being present, either one of which could probably give the best we got a run for their money. Piece of cake really.

I started to stand up and promptly got tackled back into the snow. At least it was Ivan.

“Ivan, I'm not staying cold and wet in the snow all day. If you don't get off, I'm going to shoot you off.”

If Alicia had tackled me, I wouldn't have bothered with the warning. The only way to figure out this trap before we froze to death was to spring it. And it was either go forward or go back without trying anything, and I wasn't about to do that.

“Just an hour more Sasha. Please, just give us an hour more to work it. Then you can go in, guns blazing.”

These people... everyone thinks I'm some violence happy barbarian. Where do they even get the idea from? I can be reasonable! I'm always reasonable.

“Fine, you got an hour. I'm going to just walk away from this tree line, and go get warm.”

Ivan looked to me sharply.

“No fires, and no fireworks Sasha. It would be just as bad to force a confrontation in the forest as the village before we know what's going on.”

“Fine, fine. I'll use those heating packs we have. I just want to get warm.”

Ivan turned back to his study, making occasional comments to Alicia, who answered. They were quiet so I couldn't hear them as I trudged back. We had twenty heating packs that worked for six hours at a time through the joys of chemical reaction. They were supposed to be strictly for emergencies, and to avoid losing toes and fingers to the cold. So far we hadn't needed any.

Well I was cold, and I couldn't make a fire. So this counted.

I took my sleeping bag out and snapped the center of those little bags, shaking them and throwing them inside. Well, all but four. I figured four was enough for another emergency, in a pinch. Then I got comfortable and started reading about what edible plants grew in this crappy climate. There weren't many, and what there was were mostly berries. The cloudberries looked especially good, at least judging from the picture. I had a feeling survival strategies for the Urals might become my new favorite book for the next few weeks.

Ivan came back, then did a double take. Not sure what his issue was, but he palmed his ruddy face.

“You didn't need to use them all, Sasha.”

“Yes I did; I was cold.”

He didn't need to know I had saved a few; after all, he was born to this weather. And Alicia was half wildebeest so she didn't need any either. Speak of the devil, and she will lumber up like a Yeti.

“Use all of what?”

“The emergency heat packs.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them, and keep your voice down.”

I didn't bother to correct the impression Ivan left Alicia either. I just shrugged.

“It was an emergency; I was cold. That's what we brought them for.”

Alicia had the right idea.

“Screw it, pass me some, I want to get warm too.”

Ivan rolled his eyes but held his hand out. I passed five each to both and sat up as they sat down, huddled in their own blankets. We needed to talk strategy.

“Well, did you learn anything new?”

“No. Not really. No one came out of the new log fort, and I didn't see any obvious evidence of witchcraft.”

Nice. Good strategy session. I hated long boring talks anyway. But it was always nice to confirm details.

“So... I was right? Is that what I'm hearing, Ivan?”

He sighed.

“Yes, you’re hearing right. The direct approach will work as well as any other. Though I'm placing myself on record for at least trying stealth.”

“Duly noted.”

And I would note it. I just wouldn't respect it. Stealth almost never worked, even if we had a specialist in it. We didn't. Ivan was probably our best, but he was big and could only be so quiet. I sucked at it, and Alicia, well, she tripped on her beard often. Against witches that had spells to detect intruders we would never be able to go incognito.

We were all experienced hunters, but some game you could stalk, and some game stalked you. Just made it more interesting, really.

“Well glad we had this talk Ivan, it clarifies what we need to do.”

Alicia pondered. It took her a moment more than it probably should.

“Go in there, guns blazing?”

“Well I was thinking of just walking in, and seeing who popped up to shoot us as opposed to shooting them all, but that's the basic idea, yes.”

Alicia nodded.

“Standard operating procedure then, just like the last job. And the job before the job before, and the job before that....”

“Yep. Standard stalking horse tactics.”

Why fix what isn't broke? Ivan had an answer for that one.

“I think we need to find a strategy that doesn't have such a high mortality rate. Staking our own out like goats to be killed so we can identify our enemies leads to regrettable loss of life.”

What a bleeding heart.

“Sure the strategy might kill a few of us... but only the weak ones!”

He stared at me. Fine, time to be serious.

“Fine. We're going to die Ivan. We all are. Witches have all of us by the throat, and we're waiting for the hammer to fall. Better to die stopping them, better to die killing them, then to die on your knees like a whipped dog. If you can find the better way to build that mousetrap, well I won't stop you.”

He wouldn't though; it didn't exist. Better minds than his had tried and failed. The problem was as always, detection.

“We've confirmed witch presence Sasha, we should go and bring back reinforcements.”

Idiot.

“We haven't. We've seen some suggestive things, but we haven't seen a single witch. All we've seen are nervous and armed citizens, who might be arming against some rogue blood-mad bear. Unusual behavior, yes we've seen that. But we haven't seen anything we can point out to the Gloom as a reason to leave and bring back more people, and you know it. We go back now, and Gloom will bench us all for cowards. And he'll be right to do so.”

I looked. Alicia understood this much at least, she needed no prompting to be reminded that she was the one on the wall. Ivan was getting too close to retirement, perhaps. As for Alicia and I, we were cold.

“So, no plan? No last minute change in tactics?”

“No.”

I threw my sleeping bag at him, with the heat packs still inside. They had some four plus hours left.

“Good, Alicia and I will go in, you circle around and find a hole. If we aren't back before those packs inside run out, retreat and go for reinforcements. Don't waste time, don't sleep. In fact, get a few hours now, cause you likely won't have the chance if we don't come back.”

If they caught us alive, they could make us talk. Alicia and I were tough (as Ivan was, for that matter) but the witches could always make someone talk if they cared enough. We could buy him some time to use though. Who knows? It might even be enough.

“Look I didn't mean I didn't want to....”

Again; idiot. I forestalled him with a hand.

“I know, I know. But one of us has to, so it might as well be you. You know the area, you know survival tactics here, and you're the most level headed of us. So you stay, we go.”

Alicia fell into step as best she was able as I walked away. Ivan didn't waste another word. I led the way to the main road into the village, which was little more than a jumped up trail, and together we took it to... well whatever the hell village it was; I'd forgotten and I couldn't read the sign. Ah well, it didn't matter.

The reaction upon the first person seeing us was immediate. The quilting bee of ladies crossed themselves and hurried inside. I wished them well... and hoped they had a basement. Some of those who saw us just watched us pass by. And some of those who watched us pass fondled their weapons. They had a choice to make, and they were contemplating it.

There was no inn in this village... however there was a sign, written in several languages, English among them. It read: “travelers this way.” And pointed to the new fortress. With a shrug I turned that way, Alicia sticking to me like wide-eyed glue.

At our change in direction some of those people who had gathered to follow us and gawk decided that it was finally time to be elsewhere. Good; I hoped they had basements too. Nice basements dug as far down into the frozen soil as they could manage.

The large portcullis was up, and the large door was unguarded. It had a bell pull, so I used it first. Then I waited. Then I pulled it again. Hey, I could be polite!

“Sasha, might want to give it more than 20 seconds between pulls.”

She looked nervous.

The door was answered before I could ask her. I turned to find an extremely tall, amazingly well built woman in a maid outfit standing before the entrance. She had to be six feet, thin but with breasts as big as my head. I am the king of fine detail; I notice such things. The maid outfit she wore had a short skirt and low cut top; she also wore heels and knee socks. In this cold.

I didn't see a hat, but I knew a witch when I saw one.

“Aaah, guests. Welcome to our humble home. I am Maid Marion. Accommodations in the village are so... plebeian. Please, follow me to rooms more appropriate to your wonderful selves.”

And she turned around and just walked away. With a shrug at Alicia, who was looking even more nervous than before (and maybe downright scared) I followed.

“Thanks. The people in town are kind of twitchy about strangers for a reason.”

That stride she had was one I could appreciate, witch or not. She stopped and pointed at a... closet? I made a manly attempt to keep my eyes on her, and I had to look up for that. She gave no notice that she appreciated it.

“Of course, they are quite provincial. If you wish, that is the cloak room. You may take off those wet and undoubtedly cold garments you are currently wrapped in.”

That sounded like a great idea. I started shucking my coat.

“Sasha, is that really a good idea?”

The witch definitely heard, and there was a glimmer of recognition there.

“Yep. We can dry these out and warm up.”

The fortress was conspicuously warm, and while if we needed to run we were screwed, it was hard to draw with a 20 pound coat hindering your movements. I mean, I could do it, I was a pro... but half a second here could mean death. I'd rather freeze than let a witch have the advantage.

Once our coats and insulated pants were off, there was no disguising what we were. Maid Marion didn't bat an eye.

“So how many of you are here? Who is your mistress?”

“Olivia Norre, of course.”

I heard my teeth grind, loudly, but didn't feel it. My mother. My mother was here. And that Maid witch seemed amused with my reaction; nodding to herself with a smile. We would see who had the last laugh, soon enough.

“And the other present?”

“Anastasia Norre, of course.”

This time my hands broke something small and delicate. I wasn't sure what piece of equipment I'd broken, not did I care. The rumors confirmed, just like that. My mom and sister both in one place, plotting with this... this... maid, this thing in maid costume, on how best to kill all humans.

If anything her smile got wider, displaying fully her perfect teeth. It looked predatory.

Whatever. I took the effort to calm down. I could be generous; I had enough bullets for all. Alicia looked downright terrified. I wasn't sure why, the witches had no interest in yeti; even my mother. But then again, facing at least two S-class witches (I'd lay my bank account in central on three), both of whom were the more insane members of the Norre family... I couldn't exactly call her on being scared.

“Take me to them, please.”

Maid Marion paused, and wiped her smirk from her face.

“Of course. I will show you your quarters along the way. Please do make a note of the proper rooms.”

And she set off again, with even more wiggle in her walk than before. Odd; why continue the farce? She knew judging by her smile how ugly this was going to get. She knew I had to know she knew. There were only two ways this could end, and neither of those options had us staying here longer than an hour.

Nonetheless, she pointed to a hallway.

“Down that hall, the fifth and sixth room on the left. The fireplaces are already set, and the linens are fresh. Are you sure you wouldn't rather freshen up first? The baths are drawn and warm.”

Not even a small chance.

“No, thank you. I'm afraid our gracious hosts will simply have to hold their noses for a bit. Best to get this over with, don't you agree?”

From the sour look she shot me, she didn't.

“Of course. You are an honored guest.”

She was good at playing the maid. We went on to what could only be called a small throne room. There was a monster fireplace in the far left wall blazing merrily, and torches lining the walls to cut the artificial gloom. The room itself was all bare logs, sturdy and woodsy smelling. There were a few amateur tapestries to break the monotony, and large rough-hewn tables with equally large rough-hewn log benches lined the place, making a sort of path to the throne.

And there sitting in the throne, reading a yellowed copy of some magazine written in Italian and likely from last century, was my mother.

She didn't look a day older than the day she murdered Dad. Late thirties, with a hint of the bloom of youth left, she sported white streaked red hair cut in a bob; the white streaks were a result of her pact, I knew. He figure wasn't quite as good as her maid's, nor was she as tall, but she didn't suffer from the comparison at all. She was dressed in a low cut gown colored and made to resemble fire, and it suited her. Her hat, a sort of heart shaped beret that matched the dress, was firmly and openly placed upon her head at a rather jaunty angle. I couldn't see her familiar, but it had to be around. As soon as I entered she smiled, that warm loving smile I remembered from so many days that made my shriveled heart ache.

And next to her, standing and still a few inches shorter than me, was my baby sister. Blonde, blue eyed, cute as a button and more deadly than one of my guns. Or both of my guns. Her familiar was in evidence; a small tattered brown bear. She was dressed in overalls and a peasant blouse, and had honest to God mary janes on her feet. Anyone's guess as to where she found those... or whose corpse she took them off of. Her hat was a took, of all things.

That bear worried me. It grew, became stronger and tougher than a polar bear, and breathed fire. It wasn't worse than mom's, but it was bad. My sister hugged that cursed thing to her chest and exclaimed:

“Hello brother! Mr. Scruffles and I missed you!”

My voice was colder than the air outside, but steady. I was proud of that as I kept an eye on all of them. The maid made it easy on me, walking over to stand at Mom's right hand. The symbolism wasn't lost on me.

“Hello Ana. Father sends his regards.”

It was a bit of a cheap shot. Mom's face fell a bit. Ana just looked confused, as if she didn't understand or remember she was the one who murdered dad in cold blood. Maybe she didn't; I don't know. Witches were never sane, and many of them were worse than feral dogs. Her next statements, said in a rush before Mom could shush her (though she tried, I noted) clinched that thought. That and it almost made me draw.

“Dad? Where is he!?! Is he here? I'd love to see him again!”

“Wait, Sasha!”

I held on, barely. Her plaintive ton did reach me, but there was more red in this room than a minute ago; even the maid was splashed liberally with it. I felt my neck grate as I focused on Olivia... my mother.

“Can't we just talk for awhile before we get to the main event? Please?”

Ana just pouted cutely. I wasn't fooled for a second. The look of gaping surprise on the maid's face however, that was priceless. Well it wasn't like they'd see my hands move if I didn't want them to. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and leaned back.

“Sure, it's your dime. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well for starters, how have you been?”

I didn't even think over a response. I probably should have.

“Doing fine. Killed a mind controlling witch who thought all humans were her toys just a month ago and I'm still basking in the afterglow; yourself?”

My pointed glance Ana's direction made her face tighten and eyes narrow. The maid just looked amused, while Ana wasn't even paying attention, preferring to mutter to her familiar. That was fine though; Olivia obviously cared about the threat, which meant I could use it. Ana was the weak link here anyway, I was sure of it. The maid was too in control, and held a sort of aura about her that matched my Mom. She was power, and she knew it.

“Well three months ago I destroyed the small town of New Leeds; they were... well they were doing something they shouldn't have been, and I'm still basking in the afterglow.”

The maid looked surprised, Alicia looked aghast, and Ana was Ana. As for me, I always knew I'd had my mother's sense of humor.

New Leeds had been a secret city, a small town where bleeding edge tech was being developed. The rumor was, before they were hit they were making an anti-witch weapon that wouldn't rely on generators, and would automatically detect them. I thought that was a load of bull, but humanity felt the loss of some of it's best and brightest. It didn't really surprise me Mom was behind it, but I did wonder how she knew. I entertained no illusions about being able to beat it out of her.

She surprised me.

“I had a mole. He's dead now.”

Oddly enough I believed her.

“What happened?”

She shrugged.

“He was a hunter. He fought a witch as part of his cover and died. It happens. Got a question for you; where is your third?”

So they didn't know. A mistake on their part, they should be keeping constant surveillance up, especially since they knew we were coming. It was my turn to shrug.

“Out there somewhere. He's going to go get backup in the event this village turns out to be witch infested.”

The maid spoke up, confirming she was only playing for company.

“Oh? You hadn't sent him already?”

Silly witches.

“The organization I work for requires some form of evidence; we don't just kill indiscriminately.”

“Oh, and what's your evidence?”

Alicia was tugging at my arm. She didn't want me to answer.

“Us of course. The moment we kick things off, our third will see it.”

Mom... Olivia turned to her maid who wasn't.

“That jive with what you know?”

Maid Marion nodded. So they weren't as stupid as I'd thought. No matter, Ivan could dodge whatever this unknown's familiar is. Mom turned to me and smiled, that old warm smile again.

“Glad to know you don't hesitate to tell the truth.”

“Yeah, well, won't matter soon. None of you will be able to act on the information. We about ready to get started?”

Ana piped up, and my hands twitched lower.

“That's the big brother I know! Always so impatient!”

“Ana, go play.”

What? I mean sure, Ana was nuts, but she would back Olivia to the hilt, so why would Olivia send her away? Ana didn't get it either.

“What?”

“Go to your room and play. For an hour. Do not come out no matter what you hear or see.”

“But....”

“No buts! Go!”

That old vocal steel. I'd missed that too. Ana went, crestfallen at her lack of opportunity to feed me my own entrails or rip my limbs off one by one.

“Her room is the third one to the left in the hall Marion pointed out for you. If you don't go inside it, you should be fine.”

Confusing didn't even begin to describe it. Mom was warning me to stay away from Ana; but I could disobey her later. Right after I killed her and her hench-woman. I could feel the tension in the air; we were seconds away. I nudged Alicia and nodded to maid Marion. She got the message.

“You ready?”

Both the witches nodded, but to my surprise didn't start themselves.

“Alright, go.”

and I drew.

As expected, I was faster. Also as expected, there was some form of physical barrier in place. Olivia was forced to dodge as my first shot shattered it, as it was made to do. The second kissed her cheek with it's heat. Alicia and the maid were... trading whip shots? Weird. The maid seemed to be playing with her more than anything else. I didn't have time to do more than see that Alicia was still alive though. Olivia's first strike finally hit, setting me on fire. I dropped and rolled while putting a few more rounds her way, forcing her to focus more on dancing than finishing the job.

Our clothes were highly fire resistant, so any injury I had couldn't be too bad. The pain was pretty good though; at least a 4. The flames didn't stick at any rate, and my left handed gun went back into it's holster, out of ammunition. Out came the gun for my right hand, my trusty colt navy. Drawing more guns was preferable to asking the witch kindly if she'd wait while I reloaded.

Now that the primary shield was down, Olivia would be battered around by the concussive shells as she focused on stopping them, allowing me to keep the initiative. Six rounds, six seconds to come up with a better plan than 'shoot her till she stops twitching.'

The shells worked even though I missed with two, pounding into her secondary protections and drawing blood as they knocked her around. Empty, the colt navy went into its holster. Out came the magnum and the glock. The magnum had some bigger bangs, and the glock fired flechete. By the time I used both, my generator should have the charge on my colts recharged. Then I'd have to hide and reload... or pull my ace in the hole.

The good news is, one of the holes I put in the place to start the fight had been through the roof, and Ivan should have seen it and already moving. At least if he was still alive; both witches were fighting without their familiars. I didn't know about the maid's, but big as this fort was, big as this room was, Olivia's familiar wouldn't be able to hide in it. Just too big, too flashy. Which meant the familiars could well be after Ivan.

“So, would you really feed my hat into your generator, son?”

What is it with witches and talking during fights? It was a stupid thing to do.

“In a minute or so, you'll find out.”

My glock clicked dry just as she was recovering; she fired some sort of bolt of force that was similar to bolts I'd seen before... but had a nasty trick. I couldn't dodge them. I managed to make 3 of them hit each other, but the other 7 slammed into me. I slammed into the wall. Alicia hit just after I did, coughing blood.

Right, no time to reload; .50 cal time.

“Desert out!”

My allies always appreciated the warning before I broke open the can of gratuitous whup-ass. Alicia immediately turned and cut a hole in the wall we'd just used, making a hole and diving through it as I drew the largest gun I packed in my arsenal. I made sure to dive for the hole Alicia created before firing.

The first shot was the equivalent of a full pound of old high explosives; a shaped charge that blew hit Olivia and blew forward, completely demolishing the throne room in an instant. The backlash did enveloped the maid too, and blew me through the wall into the snow outside. I dug a good twenty foot trench, but generator enhanced clothes were tough, and a little thing like this wouldn't kill me. Only mostly kill me... but no risk, no reward, right?

“... Sasha, you still alive?”

Alicia was hunched over me, yelling in my ear, and my hearing was coming back. She was also shaking me, which I hadn't felt before, so there was likely some concussion thing going on. I still held my gun though. I shrugged Alicia away; no one wanted to come to full wakefullness looking at THAT.

“SASHA ELSA NORRE!!!!!”

Yep, hearing was definitely back... and Mom... Olivia was pissed. Whatever I hadn't destroyed she was currently setting on fire; her aura blazed, and everything within fifteen feet either burst into flames and was consumed in an instant, or melted and then burst into flames. She lacked some control; she was even going through the floor. I was outside, and from here I wasn't even cold. I didn't see the maid anywhere.

Right. Even with the bracing, best I could do was unload one clip of the eagle, and only with my dominant arm. Any more than that, and I'd break it.

A quick survey while dodging gouts of fire and I saw it. The spec in the sky, rapidly getting closer. That had to be Olivia's familiar. Alicia had more pressing concerns.

“Elsa?!?”

“Shut up Alicia.”

“But, Elsa?”

Mom had really wanted a daughter. I was the first attempt, and she didn't want to change the name picked out. She was a stubborn sort that way, and Dad went along.

“Eyes front or you'll get your beard singed off!”

I pushed her out of the way and returned fire. The second shot missed and hit the building. What was left of it now wouldn't survive the night. Guess we weren't getting our coats back. Her return shot was a ball of fire as big as a truck. It exploded and I dug another trench.

I think even the maid ate some of that. I certainly didn't see her.

Not being a wuss, I stood up, ignoring how my bones creaked. My second shot intercepted Olivia as she came in for the kill. We both got blown back again, but were better prepared for it. Olivia hadn't been dead center; I wasn't sure where she went, but she wasn't in the crater. Alicia was throwing her special knives at someone I couldn't see and I profiled left, away from her. So I wasn't dead center for the return volley, which seemed to be hundreds of little meteors thrown scatter-shot around the area.

They didn't light so much as a blade of grass on fire, but melted holes in my coat as if it didn't exist.

The speck was now large enough that most people would look up and wonder 'Oh my God what the fuck was that?' Of course I knew, and didn't like what it meant. The unwilling glance upward also revealed Olivia, floating in the air like a freaking pinata. Witches loved the air. Shots three and four went to the growing speck and Olivia; both dodged. Both, as near misses, went off, though damage was relatively minimal. At least it knocked her out of the air; I needed heat seeking rounds or something. Maybe I could bug the tech guys for something.

The speck resolved itself through the fireball as Olivias familiar, the Dragon known as Crematoria. Olivia picked herself up just as shot five hit Crematoria maw, snapping his head back in a manner that would have broken the neck of a creature obeying the laws of physics. Too bad familiars never did. I had no inclination to let that thing breathe on me. The other hunters that faced Crematoria, well not even the bones were left.

Then a Giant green hand, an honest to God green hand complete with ridges and fingerprints, swatted down from the sky and slammed me into the turf.

But I wasn't a wuss. This wasn't enough to kill me, let alone stop me. I'd be up just as soon as I felt my legs again. Of course, with my generator broken like it was, no doubt vomiting up it's share of undigested hats and solution I could even now feel pooling around my ass, and no doubt mixing with my blood, that might take awhile. Generator enhanced healing would be offline. My trigger finger worked, but my arm didn't so I couldn't do much more than watch as Olivia, no that was Mom, walked up.

“You've grown so strong. But not strong enough for what's ahead; you are only human, after all.”

My other arm didn't work either. Perhaps I needed a hold out in my chest, or maybe my jaw. That would be aimable. Crematoria loomed behind Mom, and she waved him back. That was good, he blocked the sun. I hated things blocking the sun. Or did I hate the sun?

“Rest easy, my Sasha. I am rather concerned that the Gloom sent you on what was so obviously a suicide mission. Did he truly not have anyone else? Are the defenders of humanity truly spread so thin?”

I tried to at least snark at her. From the look on her face spitting up blood was just as good. Score one for the good guys! I wish I could wear a nice suicide vest; but those could be set off by the right magic, so it would just be making the job easier for the enemy. But sheesh, at least it would shut her up. She reached and I felt her touch, feather light, on my cheek.

“You should give up this life Sasha. There is no good to be had here. You aren't defending humanity, you aren't saving lives. You are just killing. You should give up, seek peace, enjoy life till the end. The end comes too quickly for us all.”

She ruffled my hair and stared for a moment, then gave that old sunny smile.

“But your end at least, is not today. Enjoy your life, young Sasha. Enjoy your friend's lives. Know that should you continue this, your end will come much more quickly than it needs to.”

She tapped me on the forehead and the sun fled.

Well, nothing beat returning a failure. Sure, someone could argue the point that returning at all, after being left in freezing snow, with an epic battle lost. Waking up with all my limbs attached was a plus I suppose. Waking up with no bones broken was another. Waking up with hypothermia setting in despite the fires and Ivan's best efforts, with the townspeople looking on... not so much. They hadn't even bothered trying to put out the fires; those had guttered out on their own when the snow started falling.

Both Alicia and I not losing any fingers and toes to the cold was a plus.

Ivan had been stopped from running like the wind by a giant and angry dragon, that had been masquerading as a snow covered hill on our way in. The dragon had just swatted him like a noxious insect, then moved to support Olivia. That turned out to be a plus, since he was able to come to our assistance before the villagers could.

The villagers were not happy with us, for some reason. I couldn't really understand it; we hadn't even come close to winning, but the village was still standing. There wasn't even much property damage in the village proper, which was kind of a miracle. A few houses burned down from Olivia's massive area attacks' that was it.

That was hardly anything at all.

But still, I woke to Ivan holding off a village welcoming party. It seemed that we were not welcome in the frozen pest-hole anymore, if we ever were. That night I had regretted not having all those warming packs I'd used; the campsite was very cold after dark. I learned later the temperature that night had hit an all time low.

We had been forced to use Ivan's generator energy to stay warm on the hike back; none of us had been in great shape. And our generators were running on fumes. Any witch at all could have killed us on the way back, and most importantly, I couldn't get Ivan to part with his reserves to I could engage on my normal extra-curricular activities!

Hunting witches on the side when you have no power to shoot them was difficult at best.

We met our support team on the way out; they had a good reputation, but they weren't anyone I had worked with before. Their leader was Deisel. That wasn't his real name of course; I knew that it was actually a type of fuel for engines. But apparently he didn't have a real name and used that instead. I didn't get it.

He was big, as big as Ivan and even more top heavy. He was also bald as a cue ball and affected a gravelly sort of drawl that made me think he was trying to come off as an American. Instead, he managed to sound like a yutz. He was the leader of the team, and my own rank within the hunters, though he had been active in the organization less than a year. His generator weapons were a pair of bracers that he used to punch faces in; one our approach at least, we agreed.

The second was a gray, some mouse by the name of Edith Myer. She was a brunette and smaller than I was. I knew nothing about her at all, mainly because she didn't know how to talk after stating her name. She did like staring at me and blushing however, so maybe there was some hope of some interaction. And I had to admit she was cute enough, with a pixie like face that wasn't entirely unlike mine. Her weapon was, of all things, a mirror. She had only been active for about six months, if memory served.

The last member was a tall cadaverous gray simply known as Kai. He was completely covered in gray from head to toe, so no one knew what he looked like, though I had started to hear some rumors about fearsome burns and such. His weapon was a sword as tall and thin as he was. He had been active for about eight months.

I was kind of glad they were late. Olivia would have eaten them alive in seconds. But if she thought her little speech was going to stop me, she was sorely mistaken. Me, I was just sore; having to hike down mountains and to what seemed like the only train station in Russia while healing from getting your ass kicked was a pain in more ways than one. At least they hadn't been chatty. Just a whining Alicia was enough.

If Olivia thought that a few little love taps were going to stop me, well, she would be the one sore... sorely mistaken. This was just a setback, that was all. Still, a promising lead shot was not going to make the Gloom happy.

The train ride back was just as bumpy as it was going in, which was a bit harder to ignore this time; broken ribs always sucked. But finally, we were back at Central, and it was time to enter those massive doors and report in; no doubt I'd be reporting directly to Gloom in less than an hour. I mean sure, I'd sent messages ahead, but this was different.

I really didn't want to go. I didn't, I didn't, I didn't!

“Sasha, quit throwing a tantrum.”

“Up yours Ivan. You aren't going to have to deal with the Gloom.”

Or maybe he was... I wonder.

“No, Sasha, you can't con me into reporting in your stead. You're healthy enough to go, and he'd bother you about it anyway, even if you were half dead.”

What the hell, was Ivan psychic or something?

“No Sasha, I'm not psychic; you're just really easy to read. The reason why you don't play poker with me, remember?”

Oh, yeah.

Alicia spoke up, and I remembered there were three members of your team.

“Nothing to do, but to do it. And no Sasha, you can't throw me under the bus either.”

Damn.

Sarah was in the lobby, as usual for the afternoon shift. She was looking resplendent in her blue uniform, as always, and I wasted no time in presenting myself.

“Morning, Sarah!”

She sighed, and I looked around for a certain gorilla thing, but nope it was only us. In fact, the lobby was nearly deserted, which was unusual.

“Morning Sasha.”

I looked at the sign in sheet, signed it for all of us, and snagged the customary paperwork.

“The Gloom in?”

She shook her head.

“He should be back tonight. He had a mission to complete.”

That was also a little odd. The Gloom just didn't roll for any mission anymore; it had to be a big one. Possibly bigger than the one I just botched.

Sigh. Writing mission failed on the paperwork, in triplicate, was depressing. I turned the crap in, to find Alicia waiting on me; Ivan had already left to do whatever else, but Alicia was like me. She just didn't feel safe without a charge in her generator. The problem was, there may not be much of a charge banked for either of us. I knew I had enough to at least get started, but I wasn't sure about Alicia.

Those hunter who didn't hold at least a little charge in reserve, just in case, didn't live long if they lost, and much to my chagrin, this wasn't my first time tasting that bitter pill. Come to think of it, before Alicia had too.

“Alright Sasha, paperwork is done. Please turn your generators in to the science wing before proceeding.”

Standard operating procedure after a loss, in order to make sure they hadn't been broken in some way that would show up later... or tampered with. I couldn't help but feel the frown she sported was a type of scarlet letter. Then of course she got to who I'd been after; I could tell because her eyes threatened to pop out of her head and she made an 'eep' noise, glancing between the paper to me as if amazed I was still here.

Honestly, it was like she forgot who she was talking to, or something.

With a wave I headed to the dungeon. I could probably get away with hanging onto my generator since the Gloom was out, but with it on the red line there was little point. Luckily my weapons weren't entirely useless without them, so if Central was hit, I'd still be able to get my licks in. I doubted it would happen, since judging from the sign in sheet, we had precious few live witches in residence. There was little to draw a witch here at the moment.

The biometric lock scanned us both in turns, and then a short eternity later the vault door opened, just like normal. The large and drafty sloping corridor was dark as pitch, without even the lights from the lobby penetrating far; this also was normal. What wasn't quite normal was this time we made it all the way down before the head mental case noticed we were there.

A door opened to my left, a rectangle of light that forced me to squint. I could just make out a form in it.

“Ahh, Sasha, Alicia, come in please.”

Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed the door that we stepped through; it was a strange thing, darkened glass powered by some sort of air pump, and with a small decontamination chamber beyond. The other end of the decontamination chamber was open and the pump was clogged with congealed grease, so it wasn't being used. Beyond that were racks, containing empty and full slots. The full slots of course, contained generators by number.

Generators were at one point mass produced, though not anymore; the witches had destroyed much of the world's infrastructure. Most of the ones on those racks were no longer in use; the numbers were painted off when a hunter received the genny and added their own finishing touches, and painted back on again when the hunter died or retired.

It was odd to see the head scientist maintaining the generators themselves; normally a tech would do it. But judging from the parts scattered on one of the lab tables, Emil was indulging in one of the perks of his job; experimentation. I was pretty sure that even without a hat to feed it, generator experimentation should be conducted in a different lab. Namely one that wasn't storing them all, and better proofed against explosions and strange radioactive fallout.

Even worse, he was applying some electricity to the power core wires, as evidenced by the sparks and crotchety hum the thing was emitting.

“Just hang them up on the rack, I'll have someone get to them eventually.”

He went back to poking the generator with a metal probe; the sparks it made were multicolored. Alicia backed up a couple steps, but I forged ahead.

“Can't this time doc. Mission failure, ended in both of us getting knocked out. We need them checked, and a recharge.”

“Oh? Oh. Well crap. That means I have to do it. You both alright?”

The unhealthy gleam in his eyes was back.

“Nope. Need to go to medical after this.”

Medical was actually on the other side, but it could be accessed through a tunnel here. That is, if you were brave enough.

“You need to? I could probably handle it.”

We were brave enough. Looking at Emil's probe thingy, pulled from somewhere, we were brave enough right now. I all but knocked Alicia over.

“No thanks, you're busy, got to go bye!”

The hallway we needed was further into the labs. I headed back up instead, but I totally wasn't running from anyone, no sirree. I also didn't stop at the vault door; Alicia needed prompt medical attention now. When she was lagging behind, the wheeled chair of doom squeaking behind us, I grabbed her. She didn't even complain as we left a cloud of dust behind us.

The other side did not have a vault door, instead it had a pair of glass double doors. The hospital doubled as a community hospital, and for those brave enough to enter, it offered the best health care in the free world. But as usual, when I entered, the waiting room emptied. I didn't really get that; I was a nice guy!

Today was par for the course, though I tried using my best smile, they cleared out in seconds. There were even sheep like bleats of terror. The nurse, who could well be Sarah's sister, pasted a pleasant smile on her face and walked up to us.

“Good day Hunters, Do you need to see a doctor?”

What was it with people and asking obvious questions? Seemed like everyone in any kind of service job did it. Why else would I even be here?

“Yes we do. X-rays, MRI's, all the witchcraft.”

She lifted an eyebrow. She wanted to argue using the most esoteric and expensive tech we had wasn't necessary. But the unspoken rule is, if a hunter orders something, it's necessary; even from doctors and nurses, or other professionals. Of course it could have just been for how I referred to all her devices as hocus pocus too, but she should be used to that joke by now.

“Alright sir, ma'am. Please head along the back hall to room 4 and 5 respectively; I'll free a doctor immediately.”

“Thanks.”

Whistling, I made my way back. I let Alicia take room 4, and I took room 5. Both were the same anyway, a metal bed anchored in the middle of the floor, a sink, a counter with shelves under it, a desk, file cabinets. So what if my ribs still felt like they were going to go through my lungs? They hadn't so far.

I wanted to look for pain medication, now that I was here; most hunters knew most types used or they just weren't trying hard enough. But I also knew the doctors kept that stuff locked up tight and well away from the reach of us; it was just too easy to abuse.

So I hopped up on the bed and waited. I might have swung my feet around in boredom. I might also have played around with my guns in boredom, drawing at various things around the room; it was OK, they were only loaded with normal ammunition and weren't empowered. Worst they could do was maybe put a small hole in the wall; the walls around here were reinforced, like all of headquarters was.

And then I might have fallen asleep.

Or I might have been gassed, I wasn't sure. I had been threatened with such last time; the doctor didn't like me fidgeting. But then, everyone always complained about property damage. Really, I was doing my community a favor, because it gave people something to fix! I was doing my part to provide jobs. Besides, if I had to get into the mindset of avoiding property damage, even the most green of witches would kill me.

At any rate, I woke up strapped down, probably so I wouldn't move during the MRI, though they were loosened and I could move and free myself. I wasted no time on that front, and looked for my guns, which were in a bin on the nightstand. There was also a doctor waiting patiently in a chair in the corner, making no sudden moves. He was an older than myself, but not by much. Tall, dark haired, and handsome, he probably got his pick at the local bars.

I grabbed my guns and checked them; they certainly appeared loaded, but I started reloading them just in case. The anti-tampering measures taken over my ammunition were still in place, so I felt safe to assume it was OK.

“So what's the good word, doc?”

He spoke up immediately.

“Ribs cracked and healing, we put a compression bandage around you to help your breathing. Legs, arms and hands and spine all show evidence of recent fractures, since healed. Brainwaves match the ones you had at your last physical, so no evidence of tampering or mental control. Organs appear to be perfectly healthy, with no evidence of tampering. I'm willing to write you a clean bill of health.”

One time a witch had developed the power to turn people's organs into explosives... she then forced them to march into high priority targets, including hunter headquarters around the world, and detonated them. Since then the doctors had been on the look out for similar things; after all, if it could develop once, it could again.

“Excellent. How long was I out?”

I turned to my copy of the tests done, checking the date of the MRI. It was correct; I wasn't being fooled.

“Just under six hours. I do apologize; when we saw you had fallen asleep, well, we decided to just go on ahead.”

I'm sure it was in my file just how bad I was at taking certain tests, most notably the MRI. I'd had to be sedated before to avoid moving, so I just shrugged it off. The blood test I could do with effort (cause needles always sucked), but the spinal sample thing was something that gave me nightmares. All those test results were here, properly dated and with a doctor's signature at the bottom, as they should be. All the results showed me well within tolerances for active duty.

“Works for me doc, trying to stay still is a weakness of mine.”

I couldn't help but hear his sigh of relief as he slumped his shoulders. Hell, half the hospital probably heard it. I swear, people must be spreading rumors about me or something. I wasn't that bad!

“So how's Alicia?”

He looked surprised as he answered.

“Well she has a bit more recovering to do herself, but she should be fit for full duty in less than a week. She has many bones of her own still cracked, but less tissue damage overall than you must have had.”

True enough, probably. I did heal fast. In this case, too fast.

“Good deal. And doc, this should go without saying but, if asked I didn't ask about her, OK? Got a reputation to maintain.”

He hesitated, then nodded. Even in the deepening gloom he noticed where my hands were. At least the gloom was a normal one, but speaking of which....

“Is the Gloom back yet? Do you know?”

He nodded, finally standing up as I pushed myself fully upright.

“Yes, He returned and asked for you. Then he left orders that you were to meet with him as soon as possible.”

“Right; on the way.”

Still half drugged or wounded was no excuse when the Gloom wanted you.

With a wave I started off, rolling the stiffness out of my joints. On the way out of the lobby (which promptly emptied again) I snagged some coffee to help wake me up. I had it drained by the time I made it up to the Gloom's office. No time for anything stronger.

My soft knock on the door, not loud enough to disturb him if he was busy with something, was immediately answered.

“Come in, Sasha.”

Rats. I was kinda hoping he'd be asleep; it was something I had seen before. I entered, taking note of the other two people in the room. One was Emil, our resident head crazy. The other was some girl I didn't know.

She was smaller than I was, and younger. Perhaps 12 at best. Loose and long blonde hair framed her face, and wide disingenuous cornflower blue eyes took me in. She wore an easy grin that struck me as a twin for Emil's usual; that is to say, unhinged. She set me on edge at first sight; something was wrong here. They all had copies of my test results, too.

“Sasha, this is Merlin, head researcher for North sector.”

North sector? What had she done to be sent to that shit hole? At a glance it was easy to see that the gloom didn't like her, but just that alone wouldn't get her sentenced to that frosty hell. Head researcher? That meant she was the one in charge of... the more unsavory practices the hunters got up to. All of them.

So despite her appearance, this was no little girl in front of me. Good, at least that meant my instincts were still trustworthy.

Merlin shot her superior an annoyed glance then forged ahead with so much brightness forced into her tone that I swore I could feel my teeth decay just from exposure.

“Pleased to meet you, Sasha! I'm so happy to finally be able to be here in person!”

She grabbed my hand and started pumping it, trying to tear it off. Her own hands were cold and dry; reptilian.

“Um, Likewise, I'm sure. Listen, boss, if this is about Russia, I can find her again; I've been thinking, she still has to be there somewhere.”

Russia was a part of the north sector after all; at least where we had been was. And there had been no reports of Olivia on the move. Normally it IS kind of hard to hide a big freakin' dragon, after all. Though that begged the question how she managed to stay hidden before. The Gloom knew an excuse when he heard it, but I didn't care; I didn't fail often, and re-assigning me North was a mistake. I hated the cold.

“That's not what this is about. Sasha, Merlin here has made a request; he has requested we conduct an experiment involving building a better hunter. One who isn't physically tied to a generator. I'm sure you've heard the rumors.”

Another flicker of annoyance from the girl who wasn't. I remembered now, this girl was Merlin, the one responsible for attempting to graft the power of a witch into a hunter, by implanting the generator directly, or so the rumors went. Those same rumors had the body count of those experiments numbering in the hundreds.

“What does that have to do with me?”

The question had been directed to my boss, but the saccharine voice answered.

“It's simple Sasha. I have determined as part of my research into the genetics of witchcraft, that there appear to be those better suited for the process than others.”

Well I could see where this was going, and if not for the Gloom I'd already be out the door.

“My recent investigations into the genetic profiles of our hunter staff revealed you to be a perfect candidate for the process.”

Yep, I hated it when I was right. Like I'd let this demented thing anywhere near my hot bod. Emil was all but leering himself, and he could go walk off a bridge too. I turned to the Gloom, ready to walk if he said the wrong thing; respect or not, he couldn't demand this of me. He looked almost... sad? What the hell?

“It's your choice Sasha. The organization will not force you to do this.”

That was all I needed to hear.

“Then with all do respect, stuff it. Ain't no creepy chick going to mess with me, and that goes double for you, Emil.”

And I walked right out.

I heard some talking, and soon enough the Gloom joined me. But he was alone, at least.

“One more thing, Sasha.”

I waited. He didn't seem pissed off at least; that was a good thing. He slapped a mission folder in my hand.

“No rest for the wicked. You leave tomorrow.”

Damn.

“Don't you have someone else you can send? I was hoping I could get a quick charge and head back to Russia.”

He was already back to his office door.

“I don't. Don't worry about Russia; I'm going.”

Oh wow. I almost pitied Olivia; if she was still there, well, the Gloom was unstoppable; the best hunter since my mentor Sniper died. With a shrug I walked back to my own room, a wing away. I read while I walked, trusting my instincts and reflexes to keep me from bumping into random people and things in my way. It had been a sort of game for me since I first arrived here, years ago. It was only in the last year however that I could manage it without hitting anyone. I wasn't sure if that was my skill coming along or the hunter's inner sanctuary being mostly deserted.

Hmm, looks like I was going to the French coast. Rumors of a... sea witch? Swimming, siren songs, and flying sea slugs? What the hell, they just kept getting crazier.

I threw the file onto my desk with the other old ones; I'd read enough. Name of the city, location, rumors of witchcraft, rumors of powers displayed. All I needed to know. I finally realized that I was still in the white pajamas the doctors had stuck me in for the tests. I was tired, they were clean, so they would work; I'd just repack and all that crap in the morning, when I cared.

This trip was already a clusterfuck. Murphy had french kissed me at some point or something because I wasn't just having a bad day, or even a bad week… I was having a bad year. Not sure what God I had pissed off, but they needed to get over it or something. Maybe it was pissing on that shrine in France….

You couldn't throw a stone without smacking a witch in the forehead with it, nowadays. This one was typical of the breed, all power, and no sense.

Well, I take that back; she didn't really have much power either.

Most of them just had a bit over the average person, some sort of gimmick like fire generation or light control, usually restrained by some rules that humanity didn't know; the great mysteries of our time. Why could that witch turn invisible as a starting trick or spell, and not another? Why did some seem so much more powerful than others?

How did they get their hair to take impossible shapes like that without using any product?

The current witch du jour was an expert at throwing stones. Very large, very heavy stones, thrown at quite a distance – it seemed to be all that she could do based on what we had seen so far, but she did it very well. Which was probably why she took offense to my own stone throwing efforts, regardless of how good my aim was.

I couldn't help myself, though; it was just so tacky. I mean, even if she could toss one ton boulders with her mind, it was still just tossing rocks. Ivan dodged one such rock without even looking at it, lunging and rolling as he locked eyes with me.

“Sasha, next time, can you please not provoke the witch by saying you can throw rocks as well as she can?”

Alicia peeked out from the boulder she was hiding behind, one she had already been forced to dodge herself. I wonder if the witch can pick them back up? If she was hiding that ability, Alicia could be in real trouble down the line.

“The real thing that pissed her off wasn't him saying it. It was him trying to do it by bouncing pebbles off her nose!”

I shot a good size rock, something the size of good bed, with my pistols; just enough force applied to knock the aim off. It almost knocked me off my feet when it plowed down ten feet away… it even skipped once. How had she even managed that? No matter really, the scathing comments of my peers were worth more attention.

“You're both philistines. How dare you step on my hobbies like this? I thought we knew each other!”

Alicia stopped, flat-footed.

“You mean witch baiting is your hobby now?!? You're finally owning up to a practice that could kill us all?!?”

“You worry too much, Alicia. Oh, and rock above your head.”

She cussed and jumped; the catapult sized shot would have pulped her easily.

The witch herself finally hove back into view; she needed line of sight to improve her aim, just like a gunman would. Too bad for her, really.

She was unusual for a witch; oh she was young like most of them (if she was older than fifteen I'd eat her hat), with long hair that looked like she spent too much time in front of a mirror, and classic features no matter how distorted they were. Problem was, her hat was a hardhat, and she missed that cute as a button look she no doubt was supposed to have by a good two vertical feet. Not to mention her biceps alone were probably larger than my waist. She was larger than Alicia! Her clothes were expensive looking, but they were overalls, stained with streaks of dirt and mud. She looked like the very poster of adolescent roid rage, her physique as well suited to throwing rocks as her mind was.

Alicia still had her beat in the beard department though. Her bellow tore through the clearing we had baited her into.

“Hold still, vermin!”

Okay, now that made me mad. Sure, I wasn't some fashion-minded sparkly primpy clothes horse, but I didn't just roll out of bed looking like I had crawled through several sewers – often. I didn't need to be told I looked like a bum from a bum.

“That's my line! Do you even know how you look?”

She chucked another rock at me. Hm, it was curious, she didn't seem to have a familiar. That was yet another mark in the unusual column in her paperwork, if and when I ever decided to fill it out. I dodged idly.

I probably would eventually. In another six months or so. After all, I still had the witches of hunts long past to do. That paperwork had nothing at all to do with my motivation to spend as much time as possible out in the field; none whatsoever. I was a responsible adult, I was.

“Shut up! What does a tiny little cute bitch like you, playing with guns know!?! You probably have guys fawning all over you!”

Wait.

Wait wait.

Hold the phone.

Did that over-muscled blind bitch just say what I thought she said? I looked left, at Ivan, who had been trying to work on getting close, and who was now edging away with a wary eye my direction. To my right was Alicia, already running flat out without even a glance backward; sloppy that, she could get hit that way though I suppose she was aiming for speed.

Huh. So this stupid witch had actually said… that.

I looked over at her; she had two rocks floating on either side of her, ready to fling, and was staring at me. She looked a little nervous… a little scared. Couldn't imagine why.

I dropped the smaller pistols. I really wasn't interested in playing with this stupid bitch anymore. The eagle came out.

“Take these words with you to the afterlife… I am a man.”

The first two shots popped both her rocks as they zoomed in. I was able to see her widening eyes, her disbelief… before the third took her dead center.

I didn't want to damage the hat after all; we needed it. After the debacle in Russia, we were all low on power for our generators.

Alicia peeked out of the treeline while Ivan just shook his head.

“That was clearly overkill. Your expenses are not something I envy.”

True, desert eagle rounds were not cheap; especially the ones I used.

I stared down range, gauging the damage of the shot. It was just a small concave hole in the top of the tree line on the other side of the field. Just a little landscaping; we hadn't even blown up the turf this time. The witch had done more damage.

“I disagree, nothing important died. A witch, some old tree growth. I didn't even hit an innocent bystander or town or anything.”

I heard Alicia mutter something about a first time for everything, but I couldn't have heard that right, could I?

“I'm sorry Alicia, I don't think I heard you correctly. Could you tell me what you said, please?”

She went still, which was just silly. I wasn't a dinosaur. If I was this war would already be over.

“Um, I said I could see the rest of the tree line and everything.”

Hm… that COULD have been what she said; I didn't hear her that clearly. She sagged when I holstered my revolver. It wasn't really pointed at her – or at least not anything she couldn't live without.

“Well, now that was a pleasant diversion, at least.”

It had been, but it was the second such diversion on our way to our mission objective. Cannes, a port and resort city, and the sea witch rumored to have taken up there recently. She was disrupting what little shipping was left, and supposedly feeding residents to octopi or slugs or something. What little of the file I'd read hadn't been too clear, other than to say sea slugs had been sighted.

But the second witch on the way to Cannes, and we were still miles away? It was either a setup, or the jack rabbits were breeding; maybe it meant both. This one had been a new one too, lacking in experience and knowledge; all she had done was throw stones. No invisibility, no fire, no actual spells of any kind cast… just throwing rocks with her massive arms and minuscule mind.

Oh well, the mystery wasn't for me to solve; I just stop 'em.

Alicia and Ivan both came close, proffering their generators as I picked up the pristine if dirty hard hat. The familiar hadn't even shown up when the witch was in danger; that was a little unusual. I linked our generators and fed the hat in; the machinery would do all the work of dividing the power equally. The hat itself would stay in my generator whole, of course, in case it was needed for study. At least until it fully ran out of power and dissolved.

Lately, that sort of thing didn't happen much anymore.

The process itself took a little time, so we all sat down and enjoyed the day; it was beautiful, sunny with a slight breeze coming in, with just a hint of the salt water on it. It wasn't even jacket weather. You could barely hear the train if you tried hard enough to drown it out.

Either way you looked at things, it was a little odd to get word of a witch hanging out close to the train tracks; that was a good way to run into trains. Some of which would eventually be hunter trains. It really was one of the worst places to hang out and mine or whatever this witch was doing, rolling in the mud. So why was she here, and how had anyone gotten wind of her activities? This place was nice, but seemed mostly deserted; the kind of place frequented by idiots seeking to 'get away from it all for awhile' before going back to their cushy city life, free of stress.

Any witch found here, where there were miles to hide in, wanted to be. And found and radioed in with just enough time to stop our train in order to take her out, with her not a mile from the pristine tracks? I smelled a rat. I was smelling a lot of those, these days. This was something that had to go directly to the Gloom. I pulled out my field book, a small leather bound journal that was standard equipment to all hunters.

They looked like diaries and were written as such; some of them were even published occasionally as memoirs… but they all had code that other hunters were taught to decipher, in case of bad things happening. Mine was, as so many had mentioned to me before, depressingly empty… but that was all part of the plan! Real men didn't keep diaries, so of course mine was light on actual writing and details; that's how it should look! It was all to keep up appearances, and had nothing to do with creepy women who really should be focused on men closer to their own age looking through my stuff when I was asleep. Or acted asleep. Acted asleep with all my might.

Sometimes a journal went missing when a hunter died by incineration or something, but the witches had no idea we used them as back ups for secrets… or just didn't care, so most of the time they survived even if the hunter (or even the entire hunter party) didn't.

“Wait, you're writing this one down?”

“Yeah, it's unusual to find one so close to the tracks.”

I couldn't exactly spill all of my concerns where people might be listening, even if they had to be fools for staying near a hunter war zone. Ivan watched me; he would probably follow my lead when back on the train. I don't think Alicia knew how to write, despite her often vocal claims to the contrary.

At least we now had plenty of power for the trials ahead; my generator read out was… One-third?

That was only slightly more than I entered the clearing with. I tapped the gauge with a finger. Ivan disapproved.

“It won't reset itself that way Sasha, it's digital.”

Then he looked at his own, and I saw his eyebrows climb. That confirmed it for me; she really had been weak. Too weak… and nothing of the body left. Despite the strident objections of my many jealous enemies, there often was at least something left to bury once I was done; the human body was notoriously hard to completely disintegrate.

Alicia was clueless as always, of course.

“What are you two idiots grinning about back there? Let's go to town, time's a wasting!”

Of course she did raise a good point; there was good booze in Cannes, and I'd never been there before; I'd never been allowed to go, even when other hunters were vacationing there. I'd always wanted to, but one did not simply out-stare the Gloom.

The train, being one of ours, had waited for us. It was an old steam engine, like most of ours, with one large gun that I could respect on each of the five armored cars. Each one had a gunner of course, and I waved at them as I got back on. The whole thing was over-engineered in my opinion since any large impact could just derail the thing, no matter how massive the wheels were and how they overlapped the tracks.

At least the cars were comfortable, and air conditioned. Well, that and the thing was faster than walking. The internal combustion engine was too risky anymore; there were too few people who even knew how to make fuel for it, and those people were better used in other industries, like mine. After all, fuel didn't really matter if some random hatted maniac killed you before you could burn it. The people who didn't see things that way usually died first.

But regardless of the questions raised, today was a win. We were an hour from good beer, had killed a scourge to humanity, and would likely kill another before the day was out; I just wanted lunch first.

I snoozed a bit on the final stretch and woke just as the train screeched to a stop. It was no hard feat, the thing made enough noise to wake the dead.

The platform was empty of course; the train was very obvious, and people did not hang out near hunter trains unless they were desperate for hunter intervention. Hunters were avoided by the public at large whenever it was possible; we made ourselves targets simply by existing (on purpose) and some who wore the uniform were less than savory characters. Like that pee wee, Dustin. I needed to smack him down again, on general principles, next time I saw him.

In our uniforms, we were treated like the armed train, though it was much easier for us to vanish if we needed to. We were playing bait again, of course. There were those who would talk to us, here. The desperate did exist; along with those who had a tale to tell and wanted to tell it in exchange for a drink or some gold. Maybe even both at once. We needed to find those, they would connect us to the rumor mill, which in cities without some kind of hunter presence (often the first casualty to any enterprising witch, and so not worth trying to maintain) was our main information source.

The first corner booth that promised beer was where the journey of a thousand steps began.

And like many of the best journeys, it began with a nice dark German beer. If witches really wanted to destroy human society, all they really had to do was destroy booze production; we'd kill each other in seconds.

“So, where do we start here?”

Alicia eyed me, as if the very question were offensive.

“Sasha, why are you staring at everything like that? It's unnerving.”

I shrugged.

“Never been here before; sue me.”

“Wait, what? You've never been to one of the best beach towns France has to offer?”

“Was never allowed any down time here.”

“But why….”

Ivan interrupted, probably so I didn't have to. A good thing, since it would have irritated me.

“Morocco.”

The light dawned for her.

“Ahhh... oh. Oh shit.”

Moron. I was surrounded by morons and people who thought witch hunting could be done without leveling real estate. Real hunters knew better. Come to think of it, why had the Gloom sent me here? Most large towns did not want to see me. Hell, there were even wanted posters some places, as if I were some kind of criminal.

In my darker moments, even I had to admit that the chance I'd offend someone in a position of power or influence was likely. I was not the most pleasant of individuals, and I knew it. Cannes was actually still large enough to have it's own army, and a small and elite trained force that styled themselves witch hunters (they hadn't actually killed a single witch that I knew of, their training was lackluster, and they didn't own a single generator). They insisted that they could take care of themselves, loudly and often.

It was almost like they were asking for a witch like Olivia to bump them all off.

But despite all the angry words, they didn't really have any modern or manufacturing facilities left to speak of, which did more to curb witch presence than anything else, and incidentally let them talk big… at least until a witch finally took offense.

That clearly wasn't what happened here, since the town was still standing. I couldn't figure out what the real objective was; I'd have to ask the witch when I found her.

My beer was empty. I ordered another and started in on the lunch of bread, cheese, and fruit. There was no meat, and I could really use some sausage or something, but to get some I'd have to get up and walk to another place, and buy it; I was far too lazy for that. And broke. Mostly it was the being broke thing.

I wasn't allowed direct access to the team expense account anymore. That was also due to Morocco, come to think of it.

Whatever, Morocco was a stupid city anyway.

The entire being obvious thing was our plan here; regardless of the reputation of individual hunters like myself, we could still move here in this large city openly. It was clean, heavily populated, and well controlled, all of which made it easier for the witch to hide, but harder to disappear us. Something was here; something that the witch wanted, or she wouldn't be here… so she won't just pick up and leave when she gets wind of us. No, she will try for the witches' normal plan B.

Lure us somewhere and kill us. And I was just fine with that. After all, if the witch didn't, then how would we find her in all this? This press of happy humanity? People somehow laughing, talking, forgetting about their troubles. How did that even work? Maybe Ivan knew; I could ask him later.

Sigh, I hated waiting.

“Eat your food, Sasha. I know it isn't meat, but you're a growing boy, after all.”

Stupid bearded amazon. I decided to take the high road and ignore her. I didn't really care for the décor, but I was pretty sure the Gloom would do worse than kill me if I failed another mission so soon after the last. Especially since he had to slog out to Russia himself after; he hated snow worse than I did.

After a pretty quiet lunch, at least for us, it was time to find an inn. They called them hotels here, and built them larger, which seemed rather silly to me… but people made up words for things all the time, and I guess this was no different. The hotel we were supposed to be staying at was the “Hotel Marriot”, which had been warned of our arrival and paid in advance. It also happened to be right next to the chapter house of the Cannes witch hunters.

Of course, they didn't know we knew that. Our intelligence network was pretty good, and theirs wasn't.

To the outside, it simply looked like a combination police station and firehouse, with the firemen housed within, for rapid response or something. Our official contact within the city was supposed to be there, and we were supposed to contact them immediately upon arrival.

Whoops.

But unknown to them, Wisp and her team had managed to get inside, snoop around past half asleep sentries and blissfully slumbering special troops, and catalog all the different arms and armor in the 'firehouse'. She even took copies of every document in the place, including their training manuals. She was doubled over and in tears, describing it to me.

I REALLY wanted my own copy to laugh over.

Wisp and her team may not be much in a straight fight, but they usually managed to scout out more intel on witch movements and more general intelligence than anyone else. She was also the oldest witch hunter that I knew of; she might be the longest surviving one, but it was hard to tell when most people seemed to follow my advice when writing file updates. Not that I could throw stones for that… it was clear I had started a movement. Down with the Proletariat! Whatever that was!

The streets were by no means clear, but for us they might as well have been; one look at the weapons, at the uniforms, and we were given as wide a berth as the road and crowd allowed. A few stopped outright, hesitant. Those were the ones that might have something to tell us. Or just wanted to talk to us for some reason. Or at worst, possible groupies; Wild hunt groupies were weird.

In true team Marksman fashion, we decided to check into the hotel first. The official contact could wait. They might even have to wait until we had another beer or three. But no, if I tried to do that, Ivan would mother hen us; best just stick to checking in.

We hadn't crossed half the lobby before a porter met us, wheeling a cart.

“Right this way, sirs, madam. Your rooms are on the fourth floor, as requested, and I will show you to them. May I take your bags?”

A warning look from Ivan, and I stifled myself. Must be nice, and not cause an international incident.

“No thank you. I'll carry them myself.”

A step around him, and he interposed himself between me and the front desk again.

“Alright sir, please follow me to your rooms.”

He took two steps and looked back to see if I was following. I wasn't.

“Alright, I'll give you one chance. Prove it.”

He paled as he noticed where my hand was.

“P-prove what, sir?”

“Prove that you are, in fact, a bellhop or porter or whatever you call it, taking us to our rooms. It's pretty obvious you don't want us to go over to the front desk, and that's a bit unusual, wouldn't you agree?”

I didn't want to go over there either, really. That line was long. It was the middle of the day, for crap's sake!

He proved who he was the best way he could; he held up three keys so that we could clearly make out the hotel logo stamped on them. 408, 410, and 412. I eased my hand away from my pistol; people had tried to fool us before using plants, but it appeared today was not the day for it. Well, either that or the plot was more involved.

The nervous man led us through the halls and up the back stairs. This hotel did have an elevator, but I wasn't sure it worked. None of us would trust it anyway; not after Brussels. We traveled in silence, and people encountering us in the halls shrunk back against the walls. The rooms were right next to each other of course, and I snagged a key from the guy. It was for 408. I positioned myself next to the door and tried it; it worked.

Nothing immediately jumped out from the open door, and I saw no tripwires. That didn't preclude a trap in the other rooms, but it made it less likely at least.

The porter's hand wasn't any more closed the first time; I managed to swipe the other two keys and pass them out. Alicia and Ivan pulled my trick while I covered them; I didn't actually pull my pistols, but with my hands resting on them my draw time was fast enough not to matter. It was probably a good thing that not many people knew that for sure, come to think of it.

The entries came up clear, and Ivan went through the rooms one by one, while Alicia covered him inside and I kept an eye on our porter and the hall. We did all this silently, Ivan was best with traps, Alicia was best in close quarters combat, and I was best at range; we all knew our roles without needing to ask.

The rooms checked out on all counts. Ivan coughed, and pointed to the porter, who was oddly enough still waiting patiently.

“You're still here?”

“Uh, Sasha...he's waiting for a tip.”

A tip, huh? The time-honored tradition of people in the service industry everywhere. Well, I wasn't heartless, I could help out a fellow wage-slave.

“Alright, a tip… don't drink any milk; stuff is nasty. Stick to beer.”

Slamming the door in his face so I wouldn't have to see it, I tossed my bag into a chair and went to the 'washroom', as it declared itself with a gold plated sign on the door. Giving out advice to those in need was one thing, but money? That stuff was costly!

I could probably do with a bath or something similar to wash the dirt off and crap, but I really didn't feel like it. So it was probably best to finally deal with our official contact so we could go see the sights, or swim at the beach, or whatever it was people did here. I trapped the windows, all two of them, and nodded approval over the view; there were no close buildings obstructing the view of the streets facing this side of the building.

I walked out, adjusting my pistol belt, to find the porter thankfully gone, and my team waiting, their own bags dropped off. I set my usual traps on the door, and so did they. Then we used the other advantage this room arrangement had for us; the back fire escape. From there it was a simple skip across a busy street to the 'firehouse'.

Right inside the door, a tall thin man in a uniform was leaning against the wall, hands crossed in front of him, tapping his foot impatiently. I was pretty sure that was our contact in Cannes since he looked so much like the picture I had been given when I was told to watch for a contact at the train station….

Oops?

Let's see, I had been given a name too, what had it been… Natalie? No, it's a guy. Norton? No, didn't sound right. Nathan, yeah that was it! Nathan Bon-something. Bon-bon?

He lurched off the wall upon spotting us, stalking over.

“You are late, hunters.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, the train got delayed when were tasked with finding a...”

He cut me off, the rude frog.

“I am not referring to that incident, which was called in by your conductor and duly cataloged. I refer to the train station, in which I waited by your train for over thirty minutes before….”

And he cut himself off after pulling himself up in front of us. He really was a rude frog. I started paying more attention, realizing he was staring directly at me with wide eyes and a lopsided grin. I decided to restart him, hoping it would prevent him from saying anything stupid.

“Thirty minutes before….”

“Thirty minutes before realizing that of course a beautiful young lady like yourself would want to remain unseen before refreshing herself at the deluxe hotel room provided. So I came here to wait for you….”

And he blew it.

“Sasha, no, you can't kill him!”

Alicia had my arms locked upwards; some sort of hold that kept me from drawing. I was getting careless, apparently. That and the team prediction thing we depended on was too good, at least for stuff like this. Well, I had more cards to play; I went limp.

“Come on Alicia, let me go. I'll only maim him a little, I swear.”

Alicia looked at Ivan while the frog paled.

“What is the matter? What is going on?”

The idiot didn't even realize. Not only did he need his eyes checked, but his accent was stupid.

“No Alicia, he is not to be trusted on this. Berlin, remember?”

Alicia nodded and tightened her grip, the traitor. I needed to start carrying boot guns or something; those would be much harder for her to restrain. Ivan turned to the idiot frog.

“As for you sir, you just insulted the Sasha Norre, the 'Marksman'.”

“The maniacal marksman…? But why would such a ravishing creature be insulted by compliments to her beauty?”

I snarled. Maybe if I lunged, I could bite him to death. The gorilla held firm, with gorilla strength.

“I'm a guy, you blind jackass.”

He blinked. Then blinked again.

“But how… no. I refuse to believe it; it cannot be!”

Ivan stepped in front of me, forcing a break in eye contact with my target. I tried to look past him, but he put his index finger on my nose. I HATED that, it made me look and go cross-eyed every time.

“Sasha… listen to me, Sasha. You absolutely cannot kill this man. We need him. So until we no longer need him, we need you to be the consummate professional we know you to be. Can you do that Sasha? The Gloom is counting on us to handle this.”

Right. Consummate professional, that's me, so of course, I could do it. I relaxed and straightened up.

“Fine, no killing. I won't even maim him; happy?”

At least not yet. Ivan signaled the gorilla, and she let go. Ivan was watching my shoulders warily. It was the best way to tell if a trained gunslinger was going to draw in time to react, and Ivan knew he wouldn't be able to see my hands move unless I let him.

“Yes, I'm very happy. Alicia is happy too. Aren't you, Alicia?”

Even though I wasn't looking at her, I could sense her nod in the whiff of displaced air; it was that enthusiastic.

“Very happy. No sadness here, nope!”

“Excuse….”

The frog was trying to talk? That was fine, I was very interested in what it had to say. I profiled left and Ivan moved with me, staying in front while coincidentally stomping on a foot that wasn't his. Hm, I could probably put a shot through the toes, and blow that foot off without hurting Ivan at all, but… no, I was a consummate professional, and would not risk it. No killing or maiming… yet.

I put my hands in my coat pockets. It would lag my draw time by perhaps two-tenths of a second, so it was more for show than anything else, but both Ivan and Alicia knew what it meant; it meant I wouldn't be starting a war of extermination… yet.

It looked like the frog finally realized how close he had come to death; Ivan finally unveiled the fool and his blood seemed to be pooled around his shoes. Maybe he was finally remembering that pissing off hunters was a bad idea. The first words from his mouth and the deep bow from the waist seemed to support that:

“I humbly apologize for offending you; it was not my intention, and I am deeply sorry.”

Well, apologies were good. I'd also taking pissing himself in fear, but this was almost as good as that.

“Apology accepted. So… tell us what you know.”

He straightened up and beckoned us back into the depths of the building. I guess the lobby really wasn't the best place to hold a debriefing like this. Especially a lobby filled with staring people; I snarled at them and they hurried back to whatever work they were busy with before, or at least made it look like they were. I didn't really care, as long as they weren't staring at me; staring at me led to other less savory things.

We made it to a conference room without further incident, and he gestured at us to sit down, so we each took a chair. He remained standing, pacing in front of us, which really wasn't the smartest thing he could have done, but I was a consummate professional, and could ignore it.

“The situation is this: two weeks ago, a girl came to the city, openly wearing a hat. She walked down Rue d'Antibes, taking in the sights like any tourist until confronted by a team of our chasseurs. When asked if she was a witch, she responded in the affirmative, and was promptly engaged; she fled in response.”

We were still in Russia during these events. Speaking as a consummate professional, the decision to engage a witch in the middle of the city was a bad one; it could have easily turned into a bloodbath if she fought. We were trained to try and draw witches away from population centers if possible and they normally did their best to force as many casualties as possible. Having one go willingly was a welcome switch, and so was having one run.

Well, I mean, they ran from us, sometimes. From a second rater french national team? I didn't buy that it was from fear. I don't think the french did either; he looked too angry about this.

“The team followed the witch out to the beach, along the west. The spotter reported they followed her over two miles, whereupon the witch slaughtered the entire team.”

Well, that would explain why he looked so constipated; he continued.

“Another three teams were dispatched, and the spotter reported they were waylaid by another witch while traveling to the site the first witch was last seen, and wiped out. The witch that performed the ambush rose from the sea and a host of sea creatures rose with her, including giant slugs. Also with her were several witches. Once her grim work was done, she sought out the spotter and conversed with him, in order to make it clear that she knew he was there.”

Interesting.

“Two questions for you. What is a spotter, and what did she say?”

“A spotter is a lookout of sorts. Their job is to watch the battle from hiding, with as much distance away as possible, and report on events either missed by the team on the field, arrange reinforcements if needed, and report the fate of a team and how they were overcome if necessary.”

Well, their spotter had definitely not been a consummate professional, if arranging reinforcements was in the job description. The Hunt hadn't used anything similar in decades… we didn't have the manpower. We would if we could, but we didn't get too many recruits; stupid organizations like this tended to get all the manpower they wanted. Then, of course, they lost them doing stupid things, like sending small teams of poorly trained fools when they could flood a place with numbers.

Of course, flooding a place with numbers hadn't worked for the armies of the old countries, a few centuries ago. I was no historian, but the only time armies took the field against the witches, the witches won by cooperating. Then they picked off the world leaders responsible for the army, one at a time. The only good news from that was they weren't playing nice with each other anymore. Well, that and those witches that had fallen in the battle had left hats. The first hats used in the first generators, which started The Wyld Hunt rolling.

It took awhile, but we had gotten our revenge.

“So the spotter is how you know so much, got it. Where is this spotter? I'd appreciate hearing the report first hand.”

The frog frowned.

“Spotter Lachance is currently on assignment, unfortunately. Perhaps if those duties allow it will be possible at a later date.”

Even more interesting; the spotter was being kept from us, perhaps? Did they intend this frog to be the only point of contact?

“Alright, anything else? Did your spotter positively identify the witch, or get a direction on where she went? Anything to point us in the right direction?”

Please tell me you aren't that incompetent as to have nothing. Please please please…. He frowned again.

“We did not positively identify the witch in question though she both came from and returned to the sea. Of the first witch, there has been no sign, though others have, unfortunately 'popped up', as it were, occasionally. Like the one that made an appearance earlier today, harassing the rail lines.”

Well, if witches were beginning to cooperate again, that could be bad. This really was something we needed more than one team for, much as I didn't like it. Multiple witches in the area, working together? I was going to have to dust off my radio protocols. The frog unrolled a map of the area, which helpfully had little red dots marked on it.

“These are the sightings of witches in the days since, marked by position and date. As you can see, there are over ten of them, a different one and different place each day. The encounter is always the same; the witches either make an appearance just long enough to be seen, or appear and snatch a person seemingly at random, then make an escape. It is only a media blackout keeping the city from erupting in riots or a mass exodus of refugees; the population thinks all the attacks are attributed to the sea witch.”

I knew the answer, but I had to ask the question anyway.

“Alright, the times the witches didn't take people, what was different?”

“The suspect the difference was the number of people making the sighting. In the four cases, the witch in question did not kidnap a person, only one or two people were present to witness the presence of the witch.”

Yep, I hate being right.

“So they are calling you out, specifically. Any link at all among the kidnapped people?”

Ten sightings, four without any visible goal, that left six people kidnapped unless the witch took more people.

“None that we can determine. The files are there, but among the missing are a young shepherdess, an old man here to convalesce, and a merchant here to sell cheeses.”

There were files under the map, but reading that was for suckers… like Ivan. The map itself had three red marks with orange circles over them. I tapped one while motioning Ivan to take up the files. He rolled his eyes but picked one up anyway.

“What are these?”

“Positions where a team got lucky enough to be close when a witch appeared. Or rather unlucky enough; each time a team found a witch, they engaged her. All three times the witch managed to escape, and there were always… casualties.”

I read the map notations. Each site a witch had fought one of their teams, there had been a kidnapping. One of their own being kidnapped, and they were covering it up perhaps? That was likely; I wondered if they had tried a rescue. The red marks seemed to concentrate along the beach to the west, which was a sign even a blind man could follow.

In the end, it came down to the generators. There just weren't enough to go around, and they were hard to manufacture; especially now. It was almost like the witches could detect the places behind the generator's manufacture, but even for my paranoia that was a bit much. After all, if they could, they would just hit Central and wipe the Hunt out. We were behind most of that, now.

Come to think of it, the main reason they probably didn't was it would require a level of cooperation the witches no longer possessed to hit our stronghold. Those powers on the other side, the big four, hated each other more than us. Except now, some witch was showing it. Some random witch who had managed to inspire loyalty among their insane loner ranks.

Reporting in just became a priority, the more and more we heard. If I was right in this, if the data was correct, then Humanity was in imminent danger.

People would be surprised that I knew that word, imminent. But I was a consummate professional.
I really wanted to say screw it, and sleep in the train. While making the gunners stay up; they at least would give us warning. We would have next to none in the hotel. The numbers against us were bad; easily the worst, even if the witches all sucked… and I doubted that.

“Alright. Anything else?”

My voice was steady. Just another day at the office for us.

The frog gaped for a moment.

“No, that is all we have.”

“Alright, we'll take it from here. I need you to do two things for us. One, get your spotter here, I want to talk to them. I don't care what they are doing or why, just get them here. You have until we get back.”

We needed first-hand accounts, as many as possible. We needed to know who and what we were actually dealing with; not knowing what a witch could do, or how experienced she was, would kill us as fast as any half-trained team. The frog nodded as we all stood up. Ivan snagged the files, and sensitive or not, the frog did not object when faced with us walking out with them; whatever we did now, the blame was on us.

“And the other thing?”

I worked hard to suppress a grin; necessary as it was, revenge was sweet. Especially petty revenge, but I was a consummate professional.

“I need to know how many personnel you have left that are combat capable. How many teams, what their training and fitness level is, their strengths and weaknesses. We may end up requisitioning them.”

He spluttered.

“Requisi…. You can't! You can't just…!”

I stopped and held up a finger, stopping him just short of laying filthy hands on me.

“I can if you want our help. I do have the right to refuse jobs I feel are too dangerous to my team,' - even though I never had before – 'and this one could well qualify.”

We walked out and he didn't follow. He knew we had him by the balls. On the way out of the 'firehouse' we had quite the audience of whispering people, watching us leave; it seemed that word had gotten around among their version of us. I didn't mind, because that allowed us the chance to study them in turn. I wasn't all that impressed, but didn't say so; whatever else they didn't have (like proper training or common sense) they had guts.

Ivan leaned over as soon as we were out of the place and whispered in my ear.

“So what's the plan, boss?”

Guess he was rattled by what I said back there; we'd never refused a job before. I grinned at him, and he somehow relaxed and tensed again at the same time.

“Same thing it always is. Come on, we got a call to make.”

No plan survives contact with the enemy – and boy did we ever have contact.

There were six witches here. Six! If asked yesterday on our chances of finding six witches in the same region and not murdering each other, I'd have said less than zero. Yet here they were, trying their absolute best to kick my team's ass in what could only be called a coordinated attack.

It was really too bad they were weak as hell.

One worked hard to cover the blind spot of her friend, using her rather silly water manipulation to try and make a shield. She was dark skinned and dark haired… and then she was painted red. Her shield had splattered a heartbeat before she did; it offered no resistance to my shot at all. The one she was covering was throwing stone, like the one we met yesterday. It looked like her, too.

Twins sharing the exact same power were unusual in the extreme.

Ivan managed to put a dagger in the eye of one, a rather hefty witch wearing a viking helmet of all things, and carrying a hammer. The helmet clearly needed better eye protection. As she went down (with an earthshaking thud) a thin twig of a girl who couldn't be over 12 fired some sort of liquid fire at him over the freshly made corpse.

He barely ducked it in time. Alicia was doing better, her whip latched onto one blonde in a dress that looked like it had been expensive before it was reduced to muddy rags, and she was using that witch to batter another witch into the turf; one of the witches we had seen in the files I had been forced to read yesterday.

They had numbers, and moved to cover each other like a hunter team did, but what they were lacking was strength. Other than the twin throwing rocks at us, the other witches were barely a problem; they couldn't hit us. It was almost funny, really.

“Sasha, to your left!”

I barely turned my head, just enough to confirm there were no kids in the line of fire, and put three shots into a slip of a girl with claw hands; she went down with a screech kind of like a teakettle's. Whether she would stay on the ground was anyone's guess. I fanned right with my right handed pistol and caught the witch in the muddy dress as she flew past; Alicia had either gotten sick of using her as a club, or she had gotten free on her own.

They weren't acting like witches in another way; they were fighting to the death rather than fleeing. I was more than happy to oblige, but something was off, here. I also intended to revisit the decision the Gloom had made regarding me not being allowed a mini-gun. At least you didn't have to reload a mini-gun as often, and the weight was a fair trade off for the firepower. Really, if he'd just let me have one, I'd find a way to carry it!

I reloaded while running right, away from the main melee; the rock thrower saw me, but missed. Then I was back in, snapping off head shots.

Honestly, with the forces arrayed against us, we really should have been pressed more; instead we just cleaned house. Oh, it took some effort, but compared to Russia? To her? On second thought, I probably shouldn't use Olivia as a benchmark for judging difficulty.

“Ivan, Alicia, New kid, you alright?”

Ivan and Alicia both gave me a yes, while the new kid – the much vaunted spotter we'd heard all about yesterday – gave me a glare.

“My name is Wendy, as you well know, Mr. Sasha.”

Wendy was younger than I was, which was unusual for people not in the hunt. It was almost like the French misunderstood why hunters were seldom over twenty. She looked like a little girl, a waif one might find on the streets or an orphanage asking for more porridge. She didn't wear a hat at all of course, even in full combat gear; no sense in tempting fate. I had taken one look at her and shaken her down for one, and she had gotten all huffy.

I didn't find one, and when Alicia had stripped her completely she hadn't blanked on us.

“Whatever.” If she could be backtalk, she was fine.

“Look, Mr Sasha, shouldn't we be getting in contact with the other teams? We were just attacked, they should know.”

“Just a moment, new kid.”

She also liked protocol, which was just adorable.

The bodies of the witches were doing something weird; they were melting. Old movies lied to us; witches corpses acted like normal human ones after they died. They decomposed, and stank, and made a mess. These were making the mess a little early by becoming some sort of green snot. I watched next to Ivan, a little bemused.

I turned to the new kid.

“This normal, here?”

She blushed and stammered.

“O-of course not! I've never seen anything like this before!”

I hadn't either, but witches were weird. All the slime seemed to be flowing in the same direction – towards the ocean. Even shooting it just made it reform and start out again. So I started following.

“Sasha, what are you doing? Shouldn't we, you know, not do something like that?”

I watched the mess bubble as it flowed uphill.

“Shouldn't we wait for reinforcements?”

I turned to look at Alicia. Was she stupid or something? She knew damn well that reinforcements weren't coming. I had made the call, and the nearest team currently on a job and days away. The nearest french team was currently being attacked; we had heard the panic in the radio chatter, even if I couldn't understand the words. Wendy didn't seem too torn up about it, so I wasn't worried yet.

So far, this early morning scouting expedition wasn't a success. I really think we needed to follow the slime. We could always go ahead and bail the french out later, but this was a clue now, clearly oozing away from us.

“Wendy.”

She zipped to my side so fast I could suspect her of using powers, if she had a hat, standing at attention and saluting. “Yes, Mr. Sasha?”

“Status on the other teams?”

“All engaged, Mr. Sasha, but fighting well. So far there are few casualties and no deaths. It seems the highest number of witches was sent to us.”

And if I remembered the grid assignments correctly, the nearest french team was a bit over six kilometers that way. To the other side, the nearest team should be in between seven and eight… the fight caused us to drift a little from our course, as fights are wont to do. Still, it was the french.

“Have they called for help yet?”

Wendy, still standing at attention, shook her head. Well if they haven't called for help, then we should probably follow the slime. So I started off, my team right behind me. Wendy soon shook herself out of attention and started doing her job too, scouting ahead of us.

I had asked for Wendy; survivors of witch attacks, especially lone survivors, always made me nervous. Normal people didn't manage to escape often unless they were allowed to. Plus, she was simply too perky to be normal.

We lost the goo very close to the beach. The beach wasn't a very nice one here, it was full of slick rocks and gull shit. You'd think green slime would stand out, but it didn't.

Wendy held up her radio; she had been looking for a way down. She ran back, eyes wide.

“Mr. Sasha, sir! There's a team not two kilometers away, they were chasing a witch they had routed, and they ran into another one! They are requesting reinforcements!”

Hm, there had to be a cave around here, or maybe a ship or something….

“Mr. Sasha?”

“Yeah, yeah, let's go. Lead on.”

She took off, and boy could she run.

Ivan jogged up as I picked up the pace myself, with a lopsided grin.

“I think she likes you, Sasha.”

I snorted.

“Please, she's like 14. Don't be a creeper.”

His grin just widened.

“She's older; your age, and you know it as well as I do. But still, she seems to have quite the crush on you, eh? Always looking at you, even during fights.”

Ah, so that was what this was about. Well, that and the chance to joke at my expense. He'd noticed her watching, more than she maybe should. Yeah, I could deal with that; I already had my suspicions. Lone people just didn't survive witch attacks.

And of course, the French wanted to prove me wrong on that, not even ten minutes later. The sounds of combat drew us in, to where a lone Frenchman in their special forces armor was trading shots with two older women, witches with actual lines etched into their beautiful faces. The first was using what appeared to be conjured wood as javelins while the second looked familiar….

Oh come on! I call bullshit. No way this many witches had identical twins with similar or identical powers, not without the Hunt hearing about it. Something was clearly up. In this case it was the twin of one of the witches I knew well from an earlier hunt. She was blue eyed and blue haired, and always stood out in a crowd. Despite that and her obvious old style pilot's helmet hat, she had yet to be caught, because she had some form of air manipulation as her go-to power. Kasthir was her name, and she had gotten away from other hunters simply because her ability to fly was without peer.

The Gloom hadn't let me try; I had been busy with the blood witch in Bavaria when Kasthir had vanished, months ago. Right now, she was doing a fair impression of a natural disaster, spinning localized tornadoes up with her feet, then releasing them, but she looked OLD. I'd seen drawings and paintings of Kasthir, and even a rare picture, and she couldn't have been older than 25. Here she looked a solid mid 40's, for some reason.

She was also missing a lot more than normal for her, given the reports I'd made other people read to me. It could all be perfectly innocent… but something was up; I could smell it, and it only got more rank with each passing moment.

I rang us in, my shots on target, and wood javelins about to kill our new friend exploded, probably only horribly maiming him with splinters instead. The witches didn't even turn before moving; that kind of combat awareness was unusual, even in veterans, and it threw Ivan's aim off.

But instead of keep up the attack, the witches started to retreat, running flat out.

Which seemed to make sense at first glance, as they were now outnumbered and may even be outgunned. The problem was, they were against me. I had no issues shooting them in the back. The flying witch dodged of course, somehow either having eyes in the back of her head or a guardian devil watching her back. The wood conjuring one wasn't as lucky; she lost the use of both arms.

She went to goo as soon as her face hit the dirt; I didn't even get the chance to answer questions.

The slime was gone quickly; by the time I got to where I'd downed her, there wasn't even a drop to sample.

I had a sneaking suspicion tickling the back of my mind. If I uttered it loud now though I was pretty sure all kinds of shit would hit the fan.

“Any of the other teams in trouble?”

I checked. The guy we'd managed to reach was still alive and mostly in one piece. Wendy's face as she listened to him jabber didn't give me much hope for his team, however. I got back in hearing range and she came running up.

“Mr. Sasha, sir, Team 4 is wounded about a kilometer back that way. Marco was just telling me it's really bad, and we should go back and check on them! We are the closest team, and I have medical training, and….”

I had to cut her off. Just too excitable.

“Lead the way.”

She took off with a squee sound; even Alicia rolled her eyes as we moved to follow. I gestured to Ivan to help the French guy… Marco, I guess his name was. Normally I'd already be off chasing the witch, and Alicia or Ivan would be doing the first aid thing, but splitting up here would get us killed, and going after Kasthir would have us run headlong into an ambush; I was sure of it.

For a wonder, one of Marco's team, a tall statuesque blond, was still alive. Of course, she was alive with about a foot of wooden javelin in her guts, but it was something. Alicia lifted her a little bit while I cut the javelin so it wasn't pinning her; removing it would have her leaking things she'd rather keep. Ivan was making a stretcher.

I let Alicia do the bandage work while I cornered Wendy.

“So, where are the other teams now?”

“Pulling back. All the other teams have taken casualties.”

For once, she sounded less than chipper; it was refreshing in a way.

“Fatalities?”

She nodded, cradling her earpiece.

“Three, with possibly two more expected, including Delilah.”

Delilah must be the blonde. Well, I didn't think we'd lose her, but her fighting days were probably over. What that really meant was that all cohesion was gone; instead of a strike force sent in to surround our enemies in a wide net, we had been reduced to small teams trying to stay alive and get out of the hot zone.

If the witches were inclined, they could make this as bad a disaster as Paris had been. The only question was, how badly were they hurting?

“How many scored witch kills?”

“Five teams, Sasha sir. A total of Seven witches downed by the other teams in addition to ours, and no prisoners.”

That was pretty unusual too. When witches went up against teams that didn't have something like our generators, the fights that we had stacked in our favor generally became a slaughter. In some cases not even painstakingly manufactured high explosives were enough; so why were the numbers skewed more like a series of seasoned Hunt teams at work?

Again, I had a theory; it was the kind of theory that warmed the heart even as it left everything else cold.

We hiked Delilah out of there, and were not attacked on our way out, something that pointed at a hidden weakness somewhere, just out of sight. After all, I'd be doing it, if I could.

It didn't matter. I knew that whatever was going on, the witches involved feared a proper Hunt team getting past that beach. So that beach was where we had to go. Fighting a seeming army of witches for just the three of us wasn't really an option, which was annoying; our generators would probably run dry before we got anywhere. So we would have to get sneaky, somehow.

Alicia would throw a fit; she still refuses to talk about the last time we had to get sneaky. But just doing my normal thing was going to get us buried in witches, I was sure of it.

Delilah managed to hang on all the way back to the staging area, which was untouched. They had carts for the wounded and we dumped her in one, next to her groaning comrades.

Well, we were gentle about it.

Covering the wagon train on it's way out was boring; even then there wasn't an attack. I was counting minutes. When nothing showed up to jump us even with the city in view, I gave up any hope of more excitement. A signal and my team got close.

“Generator charges?”

Alicia made a show of looking at hers. “Still good. 32 percent.”

Ivan didn't. “30 percent.”

I frowned. They had more than I did; I was sitting at 28 percent. With this many witches against us? Well, they hadn't left hats behind, so they weren't real witches. There, I admitted it, the French had been fooled; big surprise.

“We need to leave this mess behind, and get to the train.”

The train was the only place I was sure was clear of listening ears. Ivan knew something too, I could see it in his eyes. Alicia just looked like she wanted to raid the liquor cabinet. Which, come to think of it, was not a bad idea.

Of course, the moment we broke off from the very obvious procession that every citizen was staring at, Wendy noticed.

“Where are you going, Mr. Sasha sir?”

“Got to call in at headquarters. Radio in the train.”

I really didn't; hunter teams were always on their own in the field, but I'd requested the train stay, just in case, since we had no reinforcements. The Gloom had been off on some policy meeting with his peers, but I'd been promised the use of the train for 24 hours, barring an emergency. That time limit was running out.

Wendy was following us.

The train was right where we left it, and I waved to the gunners as I walked up, giving the signal to forbid entry as I went inside. The bar was right to one side of the door, and I didn't waste time. Still, Alicia almost knocked me out of the way with her fat self.

“Watch it, fatty.”

“Shut up, wimp.”

Ivan facepalmed.

“Can't you two just stop? The bar is big enough for all three of us.”

I made a point of looking at the bar; it could fit ten people, easily.

“Maybe so, but Alicia takes up two stools, and hogs all the tequila.”

Alicia got in my face, probably to give me a taste of her toxic breath.

“Two stools?!?! I'll have you know I don't weigh a kilo over 70!”

She almost made two of me, so I told her so. Before we could really get going, a voice interrupted us.

“E-excuse me, Mr. Sasha, sir?”

It was Wendy. On the train; without holes in her. How in the hell did she get on the train? I pulled Wendy inside and she squawked. A quick glance outside revealed both gunners were still there, looking out at the cleared platform. They didn't notice me.

“How did you get on the train, Wendy?”

she looked confused.

“I walked?”

Something was very wrong here.

“You should have been shot on approach.”

I had to put a finger in my ear to clear it after her screech.

“WHAT?!? WHY?!?”

“Because that's standard operating procedure for unknowns trying to get onboard our trains. That's why the people in the station are very careful about what platforms they get near. Didn't your buddies tell you?”

“No, I… I just thought everyone else was being superstitious or something.”

“Nope. Well, at least not entirely.”

“Ivan, Alicia, watch her.” I started through the car. Something was wrong here. I'd get Alicia to back me up, but she was still more interested in the tequila than anything else. I sipped my own beer as I strode along; rear gunner first.

There was someone in the final car. Someone else who wasn't my team.

It was Vivian Lachance, the spotter who we'd interviewed. The one we'd already vetted, and hadn't had a witch hat, the one who'd been on all the missions the French had lost before we'd got here. She was a bit bigger than me, (though not taller!) and well built. Her brown hair was short, and had highlights. She was pretty – but her grin was a little too wide, her blue eyes a little too flat, right now.

Vivian had also been inspected at my insistence and bore the strip search under Alicia's watchful eye with pride. Then she had requested she be the spotter for my team as we went into the forest searching for the witches she'd seen. When I told her no, she tried to insist. I insisted back, and she was benched, left at the French firehouse/base under a few watchful eyes. Something about her had just rubbed me wrong.

So what was she doing here, alone? What exactly were the gunners doing?

“Hello, Sasha.”

“Vivian. Mind telling me how you're not dead, right now?”

She smiled; kind of like my smile when I'm drawing down on a witch.

“Silly Sasha, you know that already, don't you?”

I gave her my own grin and drew. She moved as if she were boneless, twisting around my (low power, I didn't want to get billed for another wrecked train) shots as if they were obvious. Maybe they were, to her; she was fast. She might even be faster than me.

Nah; the return slash from an arm that was now sporting a blade made of water was so slow I was able to just lean back. It was like she couldn't pull off the same speed on the attack… or she was toying with me.

I HATED being toyed with.

Water was spilling down from the gunners nest, dragging a uniform down the ladder. That kind of explained a few things.

The enclosed space wasn't really suited to my combat style. But then again, fire extinguishers were my friend, at least in this case. We had the chemical foam kind, which worked much better than simple compressed water for putting out fires. I put two shots in the one behind her, and it sprayed her in the back as I dodged another swipe.

Turns out she didn't like that.

The slashing sped up; I had to move my beer bottle out of range twice before I could drain it; I flipped the empty at her head, and she dodged that as easily as the shots that followed by twisting around me. Four shots left in my left gun, five in my right, and she was too close to get a good shot out of either. Some racket broke out behind me.

“Sasha, we got a problem!”

I shook my head as I threw myself backward.

“No shit!”

My back wasn't stopped by water Vivian; there was some resistance but I broke through it. I was honestly surprised I wasn't cut to ribbons, Hunt armor or not, but it seemed the foam had done more than slow her down; it had made her lose her edge. Heh.

I managed to get through the door and shut it in her face, buying me a second or two. There was a fire extinguisher in each car, so that was something; but the first one she took didn't seem to hurt her all that much.

“You okay up there, Ivan, Alicia? Fighting water or something else?”

The yell came back as the door in front of me was split in half.

“We're alright, and yes! Ivan, Wendy and I are fighting some sort of water person! It looks like Vivian!”

Good, Wendy didn't seem to actually be a part of this. Well, either that or she was biding her time. Water started to flow in between the door halves, and I shot it; she couldn't really dodge that. It didn't seem to inconvenience her at all but she took her sweet time reforming.

“The fire extinguishers work a little. Got one back here too, ate the gunners somehow.”

Probably dripped down from the ceiling and then ate them, or something.

Vivian reformed and sent a blade arm my way, sending the other when I was out of room; I ended up having to do a handstand on one of the seats to dodge that one. We needed to get off the train; any more damage to it and Gloom would bill me!

Vivian blocked the door with an arm that sprouted blades… so, next car over, taking care to duck under the other arm. Could she only use her arms to attack?

I shut the door on her bladed foot, so that was a no. Maybe it was mass involved somehow, she didn't seem to be pulling a watery puffer fish on me, which would kill just about anyone. I was now in the sleeper car, which was just a long hallway dividing small rooms with small beds. I picked up the fire extinguisher on my way, this time running straight for the dining car. I had an idea I was sure I'd curse myself for in the morning.

“Dining car, everyone!”

The fire extinguishers slowed Vivian down, allowing me to make it; She was pretty fast for a liquid. Ivan, Alicia, and Wendy were already facing off against the other Vivian. Their weapons didn't seem to be doing much either.

“Tequila.”

Alicia threw it with an eye roll, eyes on her opponent. Instead of catching and drinking it (my first instinct) I booted it along and shot it.

The effect was pretty gratifying.

My Vivian shrieked and clawed at herself, giving me time to reach the bar. I started sending bottles downrange at both Vivians while my team and Wendy ducked. Well, Ivan was ducking; Alicia was standing there, sputtering.

“I know Alicia, I know, just throw some!”

She got into the act, throwing bottles with far more abandon (and tears) than I was. I did manage to save the bottle of my favorite rum she threw, curling around it and taking the hit.

“Really, Sasha?!?

I pointed as I got up; the water Vivians had finally finished screaming and dissolving. Seems alcohol was bad for them.

“Do you really want me waking up in the morning, asking where all the rum has gone, Alicia? Really?”

She growled at me.

“I didn't see you holding back when the tequila was on the line.”

Ivan got in between us with a weary sigh.

“Children, please. We need to make sure the train is secure, find the staff or the bodies, and make a call to Central. We can all bicker pointlessly later.”

He had a point.

“Fine, Dibbs on the back of the train, again.”

I took my bottle with me. Wendy acted like she wanted to follow, but I shoo'd her the other way and she followed Alicia and Ivan instead. I could see outside the windows that the entire train station was now clear – it was one hundred percent empty. I set tripwires so nothing could sneak past along the way.

At the back of the train, I found rubbery bones mixed in with the clothes and nothing else. Well, other than the massive mess I hoped Gloom wouldn't make me clean up. At least the sleeper car was mostly intact; just some extinguisher foam in the hall. Then I sighed, went back, and checked all the little rooms. It was all clear. Now we needed to call fro reinforcements just to get the train out; I kind of knew how to do it, but I doubted Gloom would trust us with the task.

Back up front, I found my team in the radio room. The radio was, wonder of all wonders, intact and broadcasting; Ivan was relaying the situation. Central's reply was to tell us they already had a team routed to us, and would put out a priority call for all hunters in the area. None of which helped us now, of course.

I drained the rum; I was pretty tired, but I was even more pissed off.

“What say we try to go find ourselves a witch?”

Wendy looked nervous. “But our teams aren't in any shape to sortie again….”

I shook my head.

“Yeah, and they won't just 'let us' go out alone, which is why we aren't telling them. The Vivian water proves we can't trust them anyway, so let's just go. We know there is something the witch doesn't want us to see, and we know where it is. We find it, we find her.”

But we'd have to go now; a response team was probably already on the way because of the shots. I grabbed one of the emergency bags from under the seat and threw it at Wendy. She actually managed to catch it, staggering in an amusing way as I pulled another bag for me. Ivan and Alicia followed suit. I waited for them all to file out, then raided what was left of the bar; we were gone and back on the street in under a minute.

Day two of house arrest. Morning kinda sucked. I rolled over in a practiced move, hitting the floor with my feet and my knee on the bedpost.

Totally planned, and not painful in any way, limping aside.

This stupid underwear; with nothing to stop it, it rides up everywhere.

"Charming," Gray informed me, having watched everything.

It was too early to think of witty things to say, so I flipped him off instead and shut the bathroom door in his face.

A quick strip and shower later I was feeling almost human, my hat/hair clip riding out the water with me - and my reflexes proved I was better by kicking in just before I would have banged my knee (the same one!) again on the sink; instead I only tripped a bit and fell on my ass.

"You alright in there Sasha?" Gray asked.

"Just peachy."

Screw walking, it was too hard anyway; I rolled over and crawled up to the door. So of course Gray had something to say when I opened it.

"Sasha, why are you naked? Doesn't your society have some sort of nudity taboo? Won't you get cold? Why are you crawling?"

"Clothes are a overrated, and I won't need them in bed. Walking is too hard."

"Please put on some clothes, Sasha. I don't want to see a naked ape without something in the way."

Was Gray trying to imply I wasn't hot? Did I care if he was? Why did I care if he was?

Thinking was also overrated. I dragged myself up my bed and curled up in my covers, which were somehow clean. Mm, nice and warm.

"Come on Sasha, get dressed. You have more generators to fill, and you have the energy to fill them."

Yeah, no. "I'm full of sleep -that's what I'm full of."

"Sasha..."

Special attack, pillow to the face. Shut up Gray, or you'll get another one. And then I'll be without, and sleeping will suck.

Gray shrugged and curled up with the pillow on the floor, like a dog. An extremely annoying, talking too much dog.

My bed was nice and soft.

Someone knocked on my door. "Sasha, time to get up."

"Kindly fuck off, Ivan."

"Sasha..."

"No, go away. Whatever it is, it can be done later."

Some clicking, and my door opened. "Come on Sasha, it's nearly eleven, You've slept too long already."

"Get out, today sucks."

"So I see." Ivan told me, probably looking around and making a face about the mess.

"Ivan, Sasha is nude."

Ivan stopped breathing for a moment. "Right; I'll wait outside the door. And keep knocking, in case Sasha tries to keep sleeping."

What an odd reaction. Was he embarrassed or something? It wasn't like we hadn't seen each other before, we hunted together, and he had seen me during the experiment, while I was out of it. hm, this bears some investigation.

When I unwrapped myself, the first sight that greeted me was Gray holding out a clean pair of underwear in one hand, and a matching bra in the other. Kind of what I expected, and I slipped them on.

One shirt later and who cared about buttons, and I was ready.

"Get in here, Ivan."

I turned away, keeping the door in view out of the corner of my eye.

"What's wrong, Sasha?"

To his credit, Ivan didn't miss a beat, and his eyes took me in but didn't so much as widen.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just up now, and it's wrong to make you wait in the hall."

At that, his eyes widened; what did I say?

"Alright, who are you and what did you do with the real Sasha?"

Now that wasn't funny at all. Just for that, I was getting dressed socks first. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You considered how I'd feel, waiting in the hall for you to wake up and get dressed; is Gray feeding you lines or something?"

Wait, that brought something up. "He doesn't, but that reminds me - you heard him earlier, didn't you?"

No one had heard Gray talk before.

"I did," Ivan admitted. "I assume that's because he wanted me to."

Gray looked up from some device he was tinkering with and nodded gravely at me. Well, that was good to know, and I suppose it followed, since other witch familiars could also make themselves be heard; truthfully it was kind of hard getting most of them to shut up, without violence. Sometimes even violence didn't shut them up; stupid ones that got away.

"Apparently that is the case."

Button the buttons, pull up the skirt, tuck the shirt in... and done. Oh wait, I need a belt to be in uniform. So belt on, slide the boots on, tying boots is for suckers, and gun belt on. All set.

"Okay, good enough."

"Might want to run a brush through that hair of yours." Ivan told me.

"Why?" I'd brushed it before - hadn't I? I was sure I had.

"You obviously slept on it. I mean, if you're trying to look professional, bed head isn't the way to go."

Back in the bathroom, I could see what he meant. Since my hair was long, it had gotten tangled in the blankets and dried a bit lopsided. It wasn't fully dry, so that probably helped, but I needed to brush it again. A few strokes got it even.

"There, all professional, shirt is all tucked in and everything."

Again, Ivan was staring at me. "What? there's nothing on my face or anything."

I'd just looked in the mirror after all.

"Nothing, let's just go; breakfast is on me."

He said that like it was unusual; I was still too busy paying for past collateral damage - unfairly - to spring for things like food often, even if it was my own.

"What'll it be today?"

"Pancakes from the cafeteria."

Ugh, right, Ivan was probably broke too; we hadn't done a whole lot recently. At least not anything we got paid a bunch for.

Wait. "We aren't actually going to the cafeteria, are we?"

No one ever went to the cafeteria, ever. No one sane. Not even Gloom would set foot in the cafeteria, and he didn't fear the lab. If any outsider asked, any hunter would deny it's very existence. Even so, rumors have spread.

"Hell no, we step foot in there we won't walk out," Ivan hissed, proving he knew the same rumors I did. "Instead I sent Alicia."

Well, Alicia could be mistaken for cattle of some kind or another - which was exactly what the place didn't serve, so she'd be alright. Probably.

Alicia proved to be made of stern stuff by being at the front desk as we came down. She was visibly shaking and was staring off into the distance, but she was in one piece and had three takeout boxes sitting next to her. Sarah was ignoring Alicia as she filed paperwork, but she was shooting glances at the boxes; had she skipped breakfast?

Alicia, for her part in this play, was hovering over the boxes and staring Sarah down with a look of bored venom.

I could smell it from across the lobby - and it didn't smell half bad. And it was hard to sneak mystery meat in pancakes, so there was that. Gray pulled out a thing, for lack of a better word, a device of flashing lights and beeping noises with an antenna on top, and started waving it around.

I wanted to call him out on that, but the lobby itself was full of both hunters and petitioners, and I was sure that wouldn't go well. Gray could make himself visible at any time, I knew that, so it only followed that he could make himself heard too. Other familiars did both all the time, so why was I so surprised by it now? Hm.

"Gray, a question." I whispered, leaning over as far as I dared in order to make sure no one overheard us.

"I have an answer, Sasha," Gray replied. "Please ask."

"Why do I have problems waking up sometimes?"

Gray blinked. "You have low blood pressure after sleeping, on occasion. I suspect your diet and exercise regime, or lack thereof. Who are you and what have you done with the real Sasha?"

"Laugh it up, ass." So a medical thing, but not a serious one, or I'd have been booted out a long time ago. One minor mystery solved.

Ivan turned back. "You say something, Sasha?"

Whoops, too loud. "Nothing important."

Ivan gave me another loaded look but let it go. Alicia on the other hand...

"Wow, before noon! I owe some people money."

"What's that supposed to mean? I get up when it's important!" It wasn't my fault I wasn't really needed at the moment. Busy work was just... boring.

"Nothing Sasha, I just saw how much you drank last night, and took a guess. What did Ivan say to get you up?"

What Ivan actually said must never be uttered to Alicia, no matter how much her beard whiskers were twitching. "Nothing, I was already mostly awake I'll have you know."

Everyone in range stopped for a full beat; jerks all. Sarah actually palmed a bill, and slipped it to Alicia, who made a big show of taking it - even sniffing it once before making it disappear.

Gray on the other hand, was aiming his device at the food boxes. It was beeping in slow, steady tones. "There are no pathogens, bacteriological agents, or other questionable substances in any of these substances," he informed me. "It is safe to consume."

"Thanks Gray," I whispered before turning to Alicia. "Which one is mine?"

Alicia shrugged. "Take your pick, they are all the same. Pancakes with strawberries on them, toast with butter, no meats. I didn't trust the meats."

Alicia knew the stories too, and I applauded her wisdom. "Good call. Strawberries though? Fresh ones?"

Alicia nodded. "Fresh ones, picked three days ago and inspected, if the cook is to be believed."

I'd still check them myself, and Alicia clearly would to; at least, if Gray hadn't done that thing with his device. I knew I could trust Gray. But keeping up appearances was a thing too.

"Alright, pass me the first then."

More money exchanged hands. "What now?"

"We had a bet on which one you'd ask for too," Sarah replied. "I bet the last one, and Alicia bet the first."

"I know of the ego," Alicia told Sarah smugly. At least Sarah didn't appear mad about her loss; she was still smiling.

They were wrong about why I always picked the first one though, not that I'd tell them that.

The box smelled even better up close, and when I opened it, I was greeted by pancakes so large they had been folded into the thing, just slathered with fresh bright red strawberries. Even the toast placed carefully to the side looked fresh and not at all burnt.
It was almost like real food or something.

Alicia handed me a fork and a knife, both so clean they caught enough light to force me to squint. I wondered where she stole them from.
I inspected the first bite carefully - then gulped it down. It was actually good!

"Well, I'm not dead."

"So you aren't," Alicia said, finally grabbing her own box and passing the last one to Ivan.

Ivan also inspected each bite, but Alicia didn't bother. She caught me looking.

"Well, I've already decided to eat it, so what's the point? no matter how bad it is, you know we've had worse."

She wasn't wrong. But there was always worse, probably.

I carried my box away from the lobby desk and to the bench we had sat at yesterday, so Sarah could continue her work without me in the way. Ivan followed, but Alicia stayed put because she was a jerk.

I finished up and threw the trash away, wrapping the silverware up and pocketing it for cleaning later. Then it was time to go back down to the lab to fill more generators. Hopefully without Emil hiding in the cabinets this time. The question was did I check them or did I just not want to know?

I'd decide when I got there.

Ivan stood up, throwing his own trash away. "Come on, it's time."

When I stood Alicia stuffed her face full and hurried to close ranks with us - with me. I actually felt a little something which I wasn't about to look at too closely for fear I'd have to kill the feeling with fire.

Gray and Ivan were right, something was wrong with me today.

The hall leading into the labs was even darker than usual; some of the lights that had been working yesterday were broken. Must have been one wild night. My hair clip went to goggles, and Suddenly I could see everything, in dim to bright greens, It was kind of neat.

Since I could see I took point, signaling the lack of movement or enemies seen. The doc probably counted. When I sensed hesitation I grabbed wrists and pulled the two idiots behind me; they had said I wasn't going to be doing this alone, and they were going to keep going.

The room was empty, and this time so were the cabinets. Well, empty of bodies anyway; there was some weird machinery in a few of them; how had those two fit in there yesterday?

Then Gray pointed at them. The machines were free of all dust and on, lights blinking or solid. There were no sounds, no gentle hum or mechanical click, but it was clear the devices were doing what they were supposed to do.

"Lock the door," I whispered, loud in the silence, and Ivan complied. Alicia hit the light switch and my goggles went back to their hair clip status, Alicia watching it happen without a word.

"Safe for now, at any rate. I guess we'll have to see about the way out when we need it."

Alicia shook her head with a slight grin, beard waving in the breeze created. "Typical Sasha."

I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, since I was the best planner I knew, (with her included) but I didn't want to listen to her yell in my ear for the next hour. Instead I lamented on our lack of liquor today, which at least made yesterday bearable. Sobriety was overrated.

Oh well, the sooner I got started the sooner I got finished. I started off with a different shelf this time, for the feeling that I'd made some progress in this somehow. I was pretty sure that despite the generators clearly claimed yesterday, there were enough new ones placed here dry that I didn't see any empty spots. We didn't even have that many hunters operating out of central, did we? This seemed like a lot.

As if, it was still only around fifty gennys. We were always shorthanded.

This time there were only a few generators I recognized; the rest seemed to be new and unmarked or personalized in ways I didn't recognize.

Like this sticker coated one for example; cartoon character stickers I didn't know, little mutant people and critters. I didn't see the atraction, but there had to be one somewhere.

The one painted pink was too flashy, and the one painted black was a little too try-hard. Everyone knew that gray and muted forest colors were the best colors for a big box with flashing lights anyway.

Ivan and Alicia both knew what I was thinking when I pointed them out, even going so far as to roll their eyes for a few of the more extreme examples.

An hour later I was done, all energy expended. I had to let Ivan help me up, and as soon as I was upright, the room started a slow spin I was all too familiar with. I should probably stop using everything.

"Whoa."

"Don't worry, I've got you," Ivan assured me.

Alicia was letting her inner chicken show though. "If the science team shows up, I'm going to throw you at them and run."

"Thanks for the warning Alicia, I'll be sure to trip you on the way down, you Judas."

Ivan wrapped my arm around him, then ruined it. "Ladies, please. Now is not the time."

"How long have you been waiting to use that one?"

"Awhile now," he admitted to me. "Worked, didn't it?"

I shut up, I wasn't going to admit something like that. Words could make one feel like they had been doused with ice water though, that was good to know; never felt that before.

The hall outside was empty. Completely empty, and still very dark. My hair clip didn't change this time, so I was just as much a bat as my team, but at least we knew what the way out was.

Despite the screams sounding behind us (which sounded canned), nothing rushed out of the darkness. We made it to the door safe and sound. And because the day and the visit had gone smoothly, this was the moment the universe decided to screw us.

Gloom was waiting for us. His eyes might have lingered a bit more on me than the rest of the team.

"Come on." He growled out, and swept back up towards his office. People dodging left and right to stay out of his path.

Ivan sped up to keep pace, and I tried to help but he dragged me more than I wanted. Even so, we entered Gloom's office a good minute after he did; stairs were hard at the moment.

"Take a seat." Gloom told us once the door was shut.

I sank into one gratefully. "Whatever it was, I didn't do it."

Gloom sighed. "Nothing like that, this is an assignment."

Well that was a relief. "When do we leave?"

"When you can stand up," Gloom replied dryly. "Want to hear where it is at least?"

Oh, right, knew I was forgetting something. "Sure."

"Pack your summer clothes, South has requested help in Egypt." Gloom tossed a folder - at Ivan, who caught it.

Wait, South? But they sucked! "South? Really?"

"It seems they feel they have a situation they can't resolve themselves. It also seems a large teddy bear spitting fire might have been seen near Cairo recently; at least that was the description given to the police there."

Ana. And she wouldn't be alone. But what would they be doing there? It was too far away from their usual stomping grounds, and the last sighting of them had been in France, last I heard.

Gloom looked me right in the eye. "Just don't blow up a pyramid or anything."

Only if it got in my way. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Gloom sighed again. "Get out of here. And read the briefing this time! Be ready to go by tomorrow morning!"

I couldn't really exit any better than I could enter, so Ivan had to help me while Gloom stared at us awkwardly. "Don't worry, we're on the job."

He didn't use the line the way he was supposed to, instead sinking his head into his hands.

Egypt. Sunny, sun-kissed Egypt. It was hotter than a tin roof in July, without it actually being July. It was so hot, Ivan was carrying a small keg, and it wasn't the fun kind. My uniform was sticking to me in some very uncomfortable places, and the umbrella Grey had handed me didn't really do anything but take up space in my hand.

We crested the next dune, and were rewarded by the amazing sight of even more sand dunes, wavering in the heat. Sand, as far as the eye could see... even my eyes, good as they were.

"Where are we supposed to be going, again?"

Ivan sighed. "The ancient city of something-or-other, some ruin out to the south of Cairo."

Okay, I had to ask. "And why are we going there, instead of staying in Cairo again?"

Cairo was a sweaty, nasty, smelly city full of thieves, murderers, and con-men. But at least it was civilization. Well, kind of. This was just a desert... and I'd seen ruins before; it was just another word for 'rubble'.

"Because that's where the sighting of the fire breathing teddy bear came from."

That made no sense. "What the hell was anyone doing out there?"

"Sightseeing and archeology, supposedly."

Ah, so the time honored pastime of all people in Egypt, native or not, eventually - Grave robbing.

"Is there even anything left to look for? I mean, it's Egypt, not Thailand or India."

Ivan shrugged. "Our contact seemed to think so, but how should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?"

"Maybe? A Russian one?" Russian scientists tended to be tall and built, at least in my experience.

Ivan stopped and turned, giving me a stare that was probably supposed to be threatening or something, before adjusting the straps on the water keg and turning back. "It's too hot to fight."

Well on that we could agree.

"Aren't we supposed to be resting, and travel later in the day?" Alicia asked, her beard wilting.

"Sure, if you want to risk the scorpions being more active." Ivan answered.

Alicia jiggled all over; a full body shudder. She was such a wimp sometimes.

"Not to mention the snakes," Ivan added.

Alicia shuddered again. I don't know why she was worried, she was probably more poisonous than anything in this desert. I wasn't even sure what the big deal was, since they were both dressed for success, in robes and turbans in shades of brown. The garments were wool and smelled so strongly of camel that I had decided to go without. The smell was an improvement for some, however.

Not that I was regretting that decision or anything, even if my uniform made me stand out like a beacon out here.

I was getting tanned, despite my best efforts. Or maybe I was burning, despite my best efforts; I had no idea which one it would end up being, but it was going to be interesting, finding out.

Top another dune, and... find a bunch more dunes, just like five minutes ago. Because of course.

Still, it was an opportunity: "Are we there yet, Dad?"

Ivan took it in stride; his tone didn't match his words. "Don't make me pull this keg around, Sasha."

I could sense Alicia rolling her eyes behind me.
Back down another dune, and I was done. "Gray, go scout. Find this ruined city. From a distance, of course, don't get in range to get shot down or anything."

Gray gave me a look, the 'why are you telling me how to do what I know how to do?' look. Then he took off, straight up, and my visor beeped, getting a picture of the terrain ahead. At least he didn't sass me. I wonder why he didn't sass me? Maybe it was too hot for sass. I could respect that.

Another beep, and something popped up on my visor; an image of crumbling walls, half hidden by sand, helpfully outlined by a green frame around them. It was to the right of us, a mile or so right and ahead. My visor told me that would be South and West, if I cared to know.

"Ivan! We're too far East. We have to go that way," I pointed. "Well, if this picture is your ruins that is. I suppose it could be some other ruins."

"Not likely out here," Ivan said, giving his verdict. "This place was well off the beaten path, even before the path of the Nile changed. There isn't anything else out here, or at least nothing else known to be out here."

I shrugged and took the lead. Gray was still feeding me information, so it was easy to alter our course; we reached the wall with few problems. It was large, made of cut blocks bigger than I was, but despite the look of ancient permanence it was so low we could vault it . Or maybe that was 'the dunes were so high'?

The wind started picking up, so of course the sand started blowing around. As expected, the other side of the wall was much farther down than this side; now that I was here, Gray decided he could get closer, and my visor was still showing me what he saw. We'd have to repel down it, to reach the city. Because there was an actual city there, with crude buildings as far as the eye could see.

Another green box came up on the image, this one at the wall itself. There was motion down there... a snake, taking shelter from the heat. So Gray could see living things that weren't witches, including very small things, that was good to know.

Nothing else was moving down there.

"Snake down there. Other than that, no movement."

"Are we hungry?" Ivan asked.

I pulled. "We will be."

A single shot and the head of the snake was gone, fangs included. The shot was silent since it was low power - there was no worry about giving our position away. Sure the flash might have, but anyone close enough to see that was someone Gray would have seen from his bird's eye.

Alicia tied a rope around a block and tested it. "Who's ready to be out of the sun?"

There were no knots on the rope so I took the time to pull some gloves on. "Go ahead, it's safe."

I also wanted Alicia to go first since she was the one most likely to pull the block off the top of the wall, if that was possible. I didn't trust three thousand year old mortar.

Alicia plunged off the edge with another shrug; the rope snapped rather loudly as the slack was pulled taut, but held, and surprisingly the stone held too. Maybe it weighed more than it looked to, I don't know. Ivan was next while I scanned for anyone looking for us.

No giant bear and no giant rage dragon. they weren't exactly known for their subtlety. Neither was I, really - Gray had to tell what the word meant, not that I'd ever let anyone else know. Subtle was another word for hiding, and none of us would ever be known for that. Even my Dad had never been one to hide.

Ivan was already spreading the canvas that would give us shelter from the heat, and Alicia was working on the framework for it. It was a little silly, but the government in Cairo had asked us to 'preserve the artifacts' which included not hammering any holes in walls, apparently. As if that would stop a witch from razing this entire place, once the fighting started.

It might even have been why dear old Olivia chose to go to ground here; it would be the type of place she would know about, the normal hardships of living here wouldn't matter to her, and she would count of the government being worried to attack her here because of their precious cultural history or something.

Whatever, it wasn't my problem. I promised that I'd try, but nothing more. I probably shouldn't have even done that much.

"You going to do anything useful or just stand in the way?" Alicia asked me.

I moved. "Sorry, was just making sure we weren't about to die from something."

Alicia knew what I meant, but she wasn't about to give up. "Oh, is that what they call staring off into space now?"

She was angling for something. "What do you want, hunter Alicia?"

A collapsible tent pole got stabbed into the ground where I'd been standing. "How about you handle the fire and the food?"

One tent pole was pointing to the snake, still leaking blood all over the sand near our new camp. I picked it up and went looking for a surface.

The skinning wasn't an issue, since the venom wasn't an issue; no head, no venom sacs. A few quick cuts with a knife and that was done. The real issue was going to be the fire to cook it and stay warm when the desert got cold. Since we didn't have any animals, we didn't have any dung, so we couldn't burn that. There wasn't any wood out here, or if the was, it was all the type of 'artifact' I wasn't supposed to touch.

We had a backup supply of coal, but it wasn't all that much.

I was far enough away that any conversation I had wouldn't be overheard. I decided to kick it upstairs. "Gray, do you see any wood or a source of fuel for a fire around? Within easy walking distance?"

Gray headed back into the sky, almost directly up. "I'll scan for it."

I really should do it myself; it would be very easy to grow too dependent on Gray, and I was at risk enough already.

Nothing really left to do, so I decided to check on my own, after all, two searching increased the chances of finding something.

I could have Gray leave my range. My visor still told me where he was, or at least, and then all that was left was a direction; just how far away did he go? From the top of the largest pile of rocks around, something that looked like a kind of bridge of all things, I saw what looked to be trees and greenery - an oasis? Here? Nah it had to be the desert playing tricks on me, there wasn't supposed to be any water out here, let alone trees.

But things that shouldn't be made me nervous, even if they didn't really exist, so remaining upright and marking myself for possible fire (rather from bear, dragon, or witch) was not in the cards. I couldn't get as far down as I wanted due to my front; how did Alicia handle it? She was worse off than I was, if only by being bigger all around.

Oh right, she didn't hide, that's how she handled it.

"Sasha, you've lowered your parasol."

What the hell was a parasol? "A what? And how can you talk to me from this far away?"

Gray sighed so loudly it had to be for my benefit. "The umbrella, Sasha, hold it up again. And A radio built into your visor. Or magic, if you prefer."

I slid off the bridge, which was a bit more painful than I liked due to the two reasons that I couldn't lower myself on the hard surface as much as I liked in the first place. Landing on my feet I dusted myself off a bit and re-opened my umbrella.

"There should not be any "I know what a radio is, jackass. But with no wires, and inside my visor? It's too small for that."

"Magic, then," Gray returned. "I am on my way, mission accomplished."

What, already? "Can you do me a favor and check, um, coordinates... oh whatever. Just check a mile or so in front of me, to confirm if there is an oasis on the other side of this shithole."

"Such an easily obtained source of water in this area."

Yes, thank you, Gray. "I know that, That's why I want you to check it out."

The response didn't take long. "Well, it seems there is an easily obtained source of water. A shaft drilled into an underground river, and a pond formed with non-porous stone."

That sounded almost mundane. "So, magic?"

Another sigh for my benefit. "Yes Sasha, magic."

"Right, get back here, and make sure you aren't seen."

"On my way."

Mere seconds later, he was behind me. I couldn't see him, but he was a dot on my visor. I could also feel him. Or sense him, with my anti-sneaking up sixth sense. Yeah, that's what it was.

"So, where's the wood? Or dung, or whatever?"

I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as I said it. I could feel the smug disbelief, or whatever it was, rolling off Gray in waves.

"I did not choose to defile my spacecraft with dung, Sasha. The wood is safe."

Whatever. "Too good for poop, huh? Everyone poops, Gray."

If anything the feeling got worse. "I do not poop, Sasha."

Wait, Gray didn't poop? Come to think of it, I'd never seen him go to the bathroom.

"I don't think I can work with you anymore, Gray."

"Ha. Ha." Gray deadpanned, right on cue.

Gray made his ship visible as I strode into camp - I could see the sparkles out of the corner of my eye.

I started arranging the nearest rocks, shattered remains of bricks and weathered squares that looked to have been carved to trap fire's heat centuries ago. "So where is this wood? I don't see anything in your ship."

Not that there was a lot of space in that thing anyway, but there was nothing behind his chair.

"Of course you don't." More sparkles, this time with some red mixed into the blue, and a large stack of wood, corded and cut and almost as tall as I was, came to be.

"If I had stuck my arm over there while that was happening...."

"You'd have a very interesting appendage right now." Gray answered.

Curiousity killed the cat, and all that. "Right, remind me not to do that, and for good measure, warn me when you're going to do that kind of thing again."

My two fellow hunters were gaping at me, though with Ivan it was more than simple shock.

"Do I even want to know where you got all that from?"

I regarded Ivan for a moment, then turned back to Gray before answering his question. "I'm guessing you don't. And I don't either, for the record."

Gray shrugged his little shoulders. "Not from anyone near this location, nor from anyone who will notice or care."

Ivan stared at Gray, who was apparently making himself visible to everyone else today, and Gray added: "They are also still alive, there is no need to worry."

Ivan decided to let it go. "Were you seen?"

I looked away from Gray to find that instead of Ivan giving him the third degree, Ivan was instead giving me the third degree. "Of course I was seen, what the hell, Ivan?!? This ain't my first hunt."

Ivan opened his mouth, then noticed where my hands were. Which meant I noticed where my hands were; when had they drifted there?

"My bad - I wasn't actually mad or anything."

Ivan opened up again, and this time completed his thought. "Who are you, and what have you done to Sasha Norre?"

"Ha. Not an imposter, just didn't really care." Was I wrong in saying I didn't want to fight over it? Was that odd for me? It might be, but I didn't think it was; I liked Ivan.

Ivan gave me a look I didn't know, but let it go and let me finish the fire circle and heating stones we'd need to survive the night. Not to mention, banking the fire so that it wouldn't show and the smoke wouldn't be visible for twenty miles in all directions.

I set a fire but left it unlit. I wanted to cook the snake meat, but drying it was probably best. Some salt and a few poles for the purpose, and I was all set to start.

I was bloody now though, and there was no way to wash off without wasting water; rubbing sand on my arms and hands could only do so much.

"Oh quit it Sasha, you're such a girl, I swear."

My hand was around Alicia's neck before I could blink, my off hand gun held barrel first at her eye so close the lash was brushing it. My finger was twitching, I stilled it with effort.

"Sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. What did you say?"

Alicia's eyes were a little wide, but she didn't betray her surprise otherwise. "I was... stating facts?"

Shit. She kinda was, even if she had made it sound insulting. I couldn't even be mad at her. Well, all that mad; I kind of wanted to shoot her anyway, on principle alone, but my new guns might actually kill her, even on the lowest setting. I switched grips and helped her up. Helping Alicia almost caused me to pop an arm out of joint. "For the record, I was worried about the scent attracting predators tonight. Shooting random animals in the dark and giving our position away would be a hassle."

"Yeah, sure. That makes sense, but then, what's this?" Alicia asked me as innocently as she could manage while she grabbed my umbrella.

"Gray insisted I carry the darn thing, so ask him." There, that should shut her up.

It did; her eyes narrowed as she looked at our fourth.

"Do you do everything Gray asks you to?" Alright, I guess it wasn't enough to shut her up. The low grade threat was more unusual. I wasn't sure I liked it.

"You know I don't."

Gray stuck up for me. "Sasha has a delicate complexion, and is easily burned. Any such damage will degrade her appearance, and such an outcome is to be avoided."

I wasn't sure I wanted Gray sticking up for me.

"See? Even Gray think's you're...." Ivan slapped a hand around Alicia's mouth before she could say the rest, looking tired.

"It's too hot for this shit. If you can't stop sniping at each other, just don't say anything at all."

I was about to point out that I hadn't actually said anything 'snipey' yet, but decided to let it go. It really was too hot for this. It didn't stop me from finding the shadiest spot of our shelter and plunking down.

Silently, of course, just to mess with my fellow companions - after all, if I didn't say anything, how would they know if I was mad or not? I spread a blanket, more to slow the sand down than anything else, A quick pat of my pack, and it became a nice enough pillow.

That was a lie, it was a terrible pillow, but it was better than a rock, so I was fine. We'd be moving at night; normally we'd talk out who had what watch, but I wasn't supposed to talk so I was taking the first nap.

Ivan set his own blanket up beside me, and stretched out. He was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes, which was a trick I used to be able to pull off. Not that I missed that useful skill or anything.

I rolled over and Gray was there, big buggy eyes already closed, sharing my blanket, and also already asleep; I hadn't heard or felt him get closer. He shouldn't be able to do that, right? I thought witches knew where their other half was at all times. That was something I should probably write down... later.

Gray woke me. "Sasha, we have trouble."

I rolled, upsetting several snakes who had decided at some point that I was a good source of warmth; they all slithered off rather than biting me as soon as I moved. Gray wasn't looking at those, however.

Instead he was looking past the form of Alicia, hunched over in the gloom, past the set fire, past the now setting sun - to the massive red dragon winging it's way lazily past the ruin.

There was no problem in getting outside the city; the real problem lay in not getting recognized on our way out. Luckily, Hunters through the years had developed some tricks to help that would see us through the crowds, and I was a master of them.

“I'm telling you, Sasha, even if you take your coat off, you're still recognizable. You haven't even changed your pants! Your uniform pants!”

“Shut up Alicia.” Alicia was a non-believer. It wasn't like she'd changed anything at all. Then again, that beard of hers was probably easily marked anywhere.

“She's right, Sasha. We have at most ten minutes before this town's authorities start following our trail. We will need to get past the gate checkpoint quickly.”

At least the crowd, panicked by the gunfire, was still running around making life difficult. The sheep would help us, in this case, as the French would be unlikely to bulldoze them out of the way.

Even Wendy got in on the act: “You don't seem to know how to hide very well, Mr. Sasha, sir.”

Alicia muttered something about my guns… as if she expected me to take them off too, or something. That just sounded all kinds of stupid. We headed down an empty alley to the outer wall.

“You can talk about my guns when you take off your stupid whip.”

“My whip is not stupid, you half-pint troll!”

Alicia used her stupid whip to throw a grapple past the outer wall, and Ivan started scaling immediately. Wendy's eyes widened as I took up position to cover. Luckily it seemed no copies of Vivian or other people around; no one had followed us in the alley.

“You seem really good at this sort of town escaping, Mr. Sasha, sir.”

Alicia headed up. While Ivan gave the all clear; there were no trip wires or any sort of alarms on the top or sides of the wall. Amateurs.

“This isn't our first time out, Wendy. We are an experienced hunter team.”

Wendy hummed at that before starting up the rope. “I'm not sure skill in being able to leave towns while being chased is a skill that should be practiced, Mr. Sasha, sir.”

I was surrounded by doubters. “Just get up the rope before I end you. Oh, and are there any security measures we should be aware of on the wall here?”

I was a professional. At least I asked, right?

“Just that it's watched, Mr. Sasha, sir. The spotters will direct pursuit to the section of the wall we're going over, but with the panicked crowd I don't believe we will lose any time.”

So still in between five and ten minutes. More than enough time, considering. The French wouldn't chase us out of town too far; they wouldn't consider the risk worth it. Long experience told me so… any pursuit we had would be the kind we'd be free to annihilate.

I put my jacket back on as we cleared the wall. Niceties were to be observed, and the witches had a right to know who was coming for them. I led us left.

“Wendy, you can scout if you want, but not out of sight. Understand?”

She saluted smartly. “Yes, Mr. Sasha, sir!”

Then she took to the trees like a monkey, while we ran on the ground, but she waited from time to time.

We couldn't keep the pace; well I could, but Alicia was already blowing hard and we couldn't keep silent while running off trails in any case.

Back to the coast we went, slower now, because I had no doubt there were witch patrols out, whether we were expected or not. Of course slow for us was still a pretty quick by normal standards. Soon enough I was right, as Wendy stopped, hunching up in the tree with hand raised. I slowed with a shrug, walking up and positioning myself behind a bush.

There were two familiar witches on the other side of the bush and a bit further downrange, leaning up against each other back to back and watching the forest. Seriously, if we kept meeting them, or what had to be copies of them, I was going to walk up and ask for their names; this was getting ridiculous.

Much as I hated it, we would have to sneak past them, which would be pretty hard to do considering how they were set up. They had left one blind spot, however, assuming it wasn't covered by someone else we couldn't see. I motioned Wendy back and she slithered out of the tree slowly, using the trunk as cover.

I couldn't just talk, so I used hunter sign to show where the sentries are. Then I had to use more normal signs to ask Wendy if she'd seen anyone I missed, which took forever before she got the point and shook her head no. So I then used sign to describe the route we needed to take… which was right above them. The only spot they hadn't thought to cover was directly above their heads.

Well or under them, but I wasn't a damned mole.

Ivan asked the million pound question (because pounds were worth more than euros, of course), again with sign: “How?” We weren't exactly birds, either. Alicia signed the kill order, which was what I'd normally go for, but I had a sneaking suspicion if we did that whoever had sent them here would know we were coming. And we'd probably end up fighting more of them again anyway, so it was kind of pointless.

We had to find the source, whatever that was.

We could also circle around and try from somewhere else, but that would take a thousand hours! Clearly, up and over was the way. I handed Wendy a rope and made monkey motions. She looked a little green, but nodded and set off, going to the very tops of the trees before tying us humans a route across them. I made sure to keep her in sight, even while slowly climbing up after her.

Climbing trees made us a little more noisy than walking, but since we started far enough back, the witches didn't seem to notice.

Soon, and by soon I mean a small eternity later, we were all rope crossing over them. They didn't look up; even witches suffered that issue, though to be fair it was hard to see things like dragons or gargoyles or whatever in a forest like this.

Ivan tapped my arm and pointed to the rope, once we were down. If they looked up, it was easily visible, but I shrugged at him. Every great plan had a few flaws, and any move we made to recover the rope would probably backfire on us. We just had to not have them look up for a half an hour or so, and we'd be back where we had been baited away from this morning.

Turned out there was another pair of sentries – both Vivians. They were far more alert, looking around and even up constantly. There was no help for it, they would have to be worked around or taken out. And I voted on worked around, since I wasn't flinging my last bottle of rum at them no matter what; I'd drink it first. Alicia was with me, cradling her vodka like the fragile child it was.

Working carefully around them the only way we could led us to the cliff-side. There were witches under it, patrolling around. But we all had our mountain goat training, so I started climbing. We could work our way down a little, then across, then back up. Wendy had to have mountain goat training too, she kept up.

About fifty feet of this and there was a trail down, caused by a rock slide. It wasn't much of a trail, and if we weren't careful we could make a lot of noise going down (or just die), but We'd been down worse. And it wasn't patrolled, at all. The nearest witch was at the bottom. We got to the last bit of cover on it without sliding so much as a pebble, and I grabbed Ivan and stole his binoculars.

There was a cave down there, just above the tide line. Looked like in an hour or two, it would be half submerged. There were also some sort of… things in the water near it. Dark green with black markings, large bloated forms just floating. A light was coming from the cave, showing off more witch guards that I thought I recognized.

This looked like the end of the tricky road, though. The beach was crawling with them; the moment we rounded our little outcrop here we'd be seen, and then it'd be a running fight to the cave, just to see what was inside. At least this wasn't as bad as going by water would have been. That was my first thought, and with those things in the water, I no longer liked the idea of swimming.

There were some hunter teams that were good at fighting in water; mine wasn't one of them.

We couldn't even talk things over, which was more a blessing than anything. 'Thoughts?' I signed.

Ivan sighed. Alicia sighed. Even Wendy sighed. Alicia signed back: 'we're in for a fight, it seems. Escape plan? Maybe the ocean?'

We were all good swimmers, but we weren't dolphins. Even without the green things, that was a risky option. I handed over the binoculars and she took a look.

“Well, shit. I assume you're dead set on going through with this? That's enough witches to call out an entire branch on.”

She wasn't wrong. “Yeah but they're weak.”

If we had to, I had no doubt that we could go through them.

Alicia wasn't on board. “With that many, they don't need to be. Only takes one.”

The witches on the beach all turned their heads at once, looking inland but away from us, and all before I could say 'we need a distraction'. I tapped my team and rose, sprinting across the beach as the witches began shifting. In the distance I could hear the sounds of a fight that could rapidly become a war; The French had followed us after all, somehow. Maybe the rope had left enough of a trail?

Either way, the growing commotion worked for us as we worked our way around the edge of the beach.

The two witches at the cave entrance never saw us, and died without a sound. The real problem lay just inside the cave, and it saw us.

It was a gigantic sea slug, with eye-stalks zeroed in on us, and a double row of slick green pods squeezed in the limited space behind it – and several witches clearly displayed inside it, all being dissolved or eaten or something. A witch was leaning against it, uncaring of the slime rubbing off on her green robe and wicker hat, and perfectly safe.

She was small, even without the giant slug for contrast, and wore a sickle at her hip. She was blonde, with wide blue eyes and freckles dotting her cheeks. She looked young and innocent, but I knew better. She had collected witches, quite a few of them, and fed them to her familiar. Normally something I could give her a pass for, but I recognized a few people who weren't witches in there too.

What was she doing here? She levered herself up and touched her hat, even as two pods around her broke, disgorging perfect copies of witches in her slug; they even had the hats. I'd never heard of her before, but she'd heard of me.

“Sasha Norre, the maniacal marksman. The Hunter's send their best; I'm honored. Tell me, how's your mother?”

She knew. She was pretty well informed. Maybe they were meeting for tea on Sundays or something?

“Well, witch, my Mom's, still a bitch. What are you even doing here? It's not like this city even has the usual stuff you look for.”

She grinned as the witch copies placed themselves in front of her. I recognized our resident air user, the one who had given us a bit of trouble earlier.

“Come now, a port town like this, filled with tourists and thriving industries, with all those happy people? How could I not want that? Some leg work, a few nights roughing it in a cave while Mr. happy did his thing, and an entire city is mine. I don't suppose you'd just go away, would you? After all, witches won't exactly be welcome in my city, so it's kind of a win for you.”

I wanted to make a show out of thinking about it, but more of those slime cocoons were breaking behind her, and I was pretty sure the witch clones behind us were coming back.

“Yeah, I think not, sluggy. I'm going to have to ask you and your pet to please either surrender or die now.”

Sometimes they did surrender. The powerful ones usually didn't though. She stayed true to form, stamping both feet as she yelled back.

“My name is Lima, not 'sluggy'! Honestly, I thought your mom raised you better; guess I was wrong.”

Time to be a professional. “So, I take it you aren't going to surrender then?”

Rule number 10; never give the witch more than three seconds to surrender. At least she answered.

“No, thank you for the courtesy, though.”

Heh. Joke was on her; some witches you can't take prisoner, and she seemed to be one. I went straight for the eagle, and her eyes widened; her reflexes weren't above human, then. The first shot was full strength, and it straightened the tunnel and smoothed out the imperfections in the wall.

A full five percent charge used for it, and all it really did was excavate. Sure the slug looked a little more melted, and all the witch clones were gone, but the witch? Safely held in the slug's mouth, or whatever it had. It spit her out gently while I shook the smoke out of my face. She looked around, eyes wide, and I couldn't resist a grin.

“Your fault for being in a place you can't dodge.”

I shot again, this time seeing the slug actually swallow her again. She had her mouth open but whatever she said or yelled was lost in the roar of my strongest gun.

The slug was faster than I first thought; I actually had to roll out of the way.

“Sasha, we've got problems!” I caught a glimpse of Ivan dodging a burst of something, probably air, as he threw some of his special knives. Alicia was already tearing into a clone with her whip. I couldn't see Wendy, but I did hear the report of a .32 caliber to my right, so I had a pretty good idea where she was.

The slug slowed; maybe the earlier speed was a sprint of some kind? Either way, it was now making good speed towards the ocean, but nothing we couldn't outrun. Shots three and four went right up it's backside, and it was finally beginning to lose cohesion and bleed, or whatever it was slugs did.

There were witch clones near that jumped in the way; they were melting, dripping all over the sand. The slug even ate a few on it's way to the beach.

I had to dance my way through several attacks. I switched hands, and shot five tore through the makeshift clone wall and hit the slug again. It left it's ass behind this time but made it to the water. From the top of it, I could hear Lima's voice ringing loud and clear.

“You deserve your reputation! See you later, Sasha! Have fun playing with my toys!”

I had to switch arms, which gave her enough time to submerge. I still took the shot, only to have a sand berm raise itself into place and absorb most of the shot. The water no doubt did the rest of the work.

There was a full army on the beach with us now, but at least there was nothing hostile at our backs.

The giant stone crabs chose that moment to burst from the sand and attack. “We need to get out of here!”

Ivan agreed. “Tell me something I don't know!”

Alicia dodged getting snipped in half only to eat a rock. Wendy took two steps to help her before she kipped up, spitting mad, beard bristling. Her jacket had stopped it. Several more rocks were headed our way when I took my next shot, obliterating the incoming.

I'd wanted to aim at the witch clones themselves, but we could probably kill more in the long run if we were alive.

Wendy yelled at me. “Mr. Sasha, sir! What if you turn that big gun of yours on the cave behind us? Blast us a way out?”

She had a decent idea, but… “It doesn't have the power for that! It just shoots enhanced explosive rounds!”

Sure, they were charged, and sure, they did more damage than normal, but the kind of landscaping she was talking about would take way too many shots. That rock was pretty dense; all my Eagle had really done was smooth out the protrusions in an otherwise straight cave, nothing that drastic. Wendy spared the time to send me a 'what the hell does that mean?' look before she had to dodge some water formed into throwing knives.

One more shot and I had to holster the Eagle; I couldn't afford to break another arm here, one was enough. I counted four taken by the blast, then it was back to the .45. Wendy glanced at my now bad arm with a wince and sidled close to it, her own small guns out.

“I'll get this side, Mr. Sasha, sir.”

I appreciated the sentiment, but it was misplaced – even if the thought of someone I barely knew on a weak side wasn't enough to make me a little twitchy. “Can't do that. You stay glued to me, you'll get nailed. Don't worry about me, I've dealt with this before.”

We managed to work our way around the cave and almost back up the cliff side by a trail even a goat probably wouldn't use before our luck ran out. There was another small army of clones waiting for us up top.

……

Somehow, we were still alive. Somehow, the witch's – Lima's – afterthought hadn't killed us all. We had managed to make it back to the forest before Alicia went down, and now we were all back to bark against a large tree, leaking more than a little blood. The witch clones had only half melted, and we had killed a lot of them. Too many. The fact that they seemed to forget all teamwork and tactics helped, but the sheer number ensured we weren't unmarked.

It was an insult, really, when Wendy, the only mobile on of us came back, leading the Hunt's reinforcement team. A reinforcement team consisting of Deisel, Koi, and Merlin along with a few extra scared lab coat types. What was the little freak even doing out in the field? I thought the Gloom had him safely locked away in the dungeon?

His first words didn't exactly fill me with confidence. “Good, you're still alive. Hm, not for long without medical attention, it seems.”

“Yeah, screw you too, weirdo.”

The only guy that could make a better case for being a girl than many guys and girls both (but not me, I was a man's man, despite the crap Alicia spewed) levered me up without a hint of effort, reaching out so one of the lab guys could slap a bottle of stuff that looked like water in his hand; I just knew it was going to sting when poured over places I'd rather not get wet.

I wasn't wrong.

Merlin's bedside manner sucked. “Oh, quit being a baby, Sasha. It only stings for a moment, and speeds healing greatly. With proper follow up, you may not even scar that beautiful body of yours.”

I had to ask. “You don't have a bear costume lying around anywhere, do you?”

If he wasn't a creeper, I was a witch.

He didn't get it. “No, why do you ask? Is there a reason for such a thing? Should I get one?”

Alicia almost choked on her blood laughing, before shooting me a dirty look. No self-control, that woman.

“You really should, and wear it around as much as you can. It'll help smooth over many a social situation.”

Despite the acerbic tone and the expected sting, the freaks hands were feather-light and gentle as he bandaged me up. “I'll consider it. First that woman and now this; just running from one fire to the next isn't good for you.”

“Clearly.” He didn't even look at Ivan or Alicia, leaving them to his assistants and Deisel, who despite having the same first aid training all of us got didn't strike me as the nurse type. No, he only had eyes for me.

He tied the bandage around my torso off, one hand lingering just a bit longer than the other. “So, what happened here?”

I didn't want to tell him.

“Come on now, Sasha. I am your superior in the field, you can tell me.” Some clean vials were slapped into his hand and he started collecting my blood in them.

I turned to Koi. “He always do shit like this?”

Koi rolled his eyes and nodded. “Been escorting him for a week or forever now, and yes he does.”

Good to know, I guess. He was working on my legs now, or I'd already be running. But he wasn't wrong about the chain of command, and as many of the Hunt needed to know, as quickly as possible.

“New witch, no word of anyone like her on our network, and she seemed inexperienced. Didn't use any spells on us at all, and showed a distinct lack of proper planning.”

She did hole up in a cave while trying to take over the town, after all, and didn't target important people; instead, she ate witches and military personnel. Of course, she could have been aiming for a military style take over, and it would likely be hard to hide a ten foot tall and 40 feet long or more slug, but I still wasn't ready to give her a pass on sound decision making.

“She relied heavily on her familiar, a 40 foot long slug that ate people, witches included. Whoever the slug ate, it could produce clones of, with matches to at least some memories, skills, and magic. Though the witch clones produced by her familiar were less powerful than the originals. I'm also willing to guess she can only do it while the people are still alive.”

Just a hunch of mine. Ivan signaled silently that he'd take that bet, and I signaled back that he was on.

Merlin did not bother to hide his interest. “Fascinating. Would you say she's a match for the four greats?”

The four great witch powers, with my Mom - no Olivia, being one. Adding another to that list would be the last thing we needed. My sister was close enough.

“No, she's not. Not yet, but she could grow to be one. Just needs some time to learn for that.”

Merlin helped me up, almost carrying me; freak was much stronger than he looked. It shouldn't surprise me anymore, but it did. “Is the train still here?”

“Was when we left, and mostly intact.”

There were a bunch of raised eyebrows aimed at me in the sudden silence.

“What? It got attacked while we were out, I didn't do anything!”

Ivan coughed as he levered himself up. “For once, Sasha's right. The train was compromised by clones that tried to kill us. We had to defend ourselves, and there was some collateral damage.”

Alicia had to be carted out, and she was giving the assistants to the weirdo manning the stretcher the hairy eyeball (which wasn't hard for her, really… she had hair to spare). “The bar is a total loss, though.”

Deisel winced, but I was over it. I could just send him with some expense account money to get more.

Merlin made a hmm noise.

“And is there any reason you weren't leading the expedition the French sent? Your orders did say to cooperate.”

Merlin had just made it clear to me he had never been on a field op. “My orders said 'cooperate whenever possible' – it was not possible to cooperate; I simply didn't know who was a clone and who wasn't, aside from my team and the one person who hadn't left my sight since the concerted attack this morning. If I had roused the militia and organized a concerted attack, I'd have never found the witch.”

I was pretty sure that the only reason I'd seen the witch in question, was because she had been waiting on more clones to pop. If we hadn't gone immediately that cave would have been empty. It also implied there was a limit on how many clones she could have, possibly. All of which made her plans for conquest even more stupid than usual.

Merlin hmm'd again. “I suppose it was one of the better decisions to make. Still seems very risky however. For someone with the survival of all humanity on their shoulders, possibly the only person who can say such – well, you should take better care of yourself, Sasha. Speaking of which, have you given any further thought to my offer?”

I had.

On the one hand, doctors, each trying to outdo each other in creepy. On the other and more recent hand, I was getting sick of losing. I'd only done it three times, but twice in a row was a streak, and this time my team's generator juice was clicking empty. Without juice, without the magic backing our weapons or reinforcing our coats, even a weak witch could kill us unless we got tricky. We could maybe convince another team to share, but that would could screw them over later, and I didn't wasn't exactly the most well-liked person around.

And on the third hand, creepy as fuck doctors. I was sure that where there were creepy doctors, a third hand (and arm) wasn't far behind.

I realized too late that we weren't heading directly back to the train. I looked up when I heard the sing-song tones of the frog language, to see Ivan staring at me with some concern. Wonder what his problem was; no doubt I'd find out later… after the French yelled at me, no doubt.

“You!”

There he was, the chief frog, Mr. whocareswhathisnameis.

“Yes?”

He stomped right up to me. If only my guns weren't empty.

“What were you doing, shooting up the station, assaulting civilians, and fleeing questioning! You nearly got us all killed!”

Well, he did cover what I was doing pretty well; if he knew, why was he asking me?

“For the record, I never assaulted civilians. If they got hurt, it was their own damn fault.” I didn't really have time to clear my path of fire when fighting on the train, and any real hunter would know that. Hm, that was an interesting shade of purple he was turning. Merlin stepped in front of us a bit, and the frog finally paid attention and realized we weren't alone.

The he started speaking frog himself, quickly. I couldn't understand the language, but the cutesy act came through clear enough. The conversation ended with the jerk stalking off in disgust.

Merlin sighed. “Well, that could have gone better.”

“What was his problem? Not like we lost or anything.” If we had lost, he'd be saluting a witch or dead.

Merlin levered me up and plunked me in a wheelchair, alone. Did I mention he was strong for a little freak? “True, but in the heat of the moment sometimes people have a hard time seeing the forest for the trees. Several people under his command died today, to a witch we failed to kill. I wish we had been more quick.”

Yeah, that made two of us.

“At any rate, I've decided to leave Koi's team here for now, in case the witch comes back. So, Sasha, you and your team are going to have to escort me back to central. Our mission to collect certain samples from the French countryside will just have to wait until the threat is passed.”

I looked at him. He had to know that my team wasn't really capable of escorting a puppy on a walk, let alone anything else. But the train should at least work, and that would make things easy. Failing anything else I could be propped up in a gunner's seat. If we steamed non-stop for central without taking on supplies… well we couldn't do that. But we could limit stops.

“Whatever. I'm going to sleep.”

I had some heavy thinking to do, after all.

Let me tell you a little bit about train rides, mind of mine. They are long, bumpy, and mind-numbingly boring when you can't drink. And when you can't drink and you're in pain? They are a true exercise in torture.

I mean the only thing I could really do was listen to the radio, which was playing some French folk crap, and read a book. If it isn't a witch's obituary or a report on the latest known witch's (with an idea of using those reports to make the obituary later) then I didn't want to bother wasting my time.

And the books on this train were either trashy romance novels or in-depth biology texts; neither one really lit my fire.

So here I was, cleaning my guns again (for the sixth time) while listening to Merlin giggle over a romance novel like the preteen I knew she couldn't be while Alicia snored.

On checking my generator this morning I'd found I still had a minor charge in it, which was suspect; yesterday I was pretty sure it was bone dry, and Alicia's too. Today, I had enough for a few standard shots, or maybe one large one. Granted, I wasn't in any shape to fight, but that was a pretty big thing to be wrong about; maybe I had been drugged? Slipped the good stuff at some point?

Maybe the vial filled with not water was it. If so, I needed more. For testing... yeah, testing.

Ivan hadn't let me check his generator, but I was willing to bet it had some juice too, somehow. Maybe the Witch fairy had given some up? Everyone always told me she didn't exist, but this was proof, right? Of course, she hadn't taken anyone's teeth, so I had no idea what she had taken in payment, but the energy had to come from somewhere.

So I was pondering the problem, and the other problem (the lack of alcohol on board) when the train started breaking with an ear shattering squeal – dumping Alicia on her butt right before gravity lost its hold on all of us.

The car stayed airborne for a good two seconds before slamming down. I seemed fine aside from the shooting pains, so I crawled over to check Alicia; she sat up, scowling dizzily and ignoring the blood pouring from the fresh dent in her head.

The car was on it's side; I crawled my way out of one of the now shattered windows once I was sure Ivan was alive; Merlin was moving too, towards the door that once led to the engine.

Our train hadn't just derailed; the engineer had tried to stop first. That meant that something had hit us.

I spotted her the moment I fully cleared cover, floating lower out of the sun. Marcy the malodorous, one of the four powers. She was older than Olivia but looked as young, with a fresh face bearing a tell-tale mole on her right cheek. She was above average height, thin and leggy. She also smoked, with one of those cigarette holder things that only snooty people used.

She was quite possibly the last person I wanted to see, aside from Olivia or my sister. Usually, she had an entourage too, but I didn't see any of her known allies with her. Her known powers were control of gasses and the creation of some gasses, and a larger than normal variation in her spells. Her familiar was rumored to be an actual gas, and she was rumored to be almost as strong as Olivia; something that was known to rankle her something fierce.

The first words out of her mouth made it clear this was no mere coincidence. “Well, my oh my! Sasha Norre, as I live and breathe! How have you been, Sasha? Still got that cute scar on your....”

That did not need to get out! “What do you want, Malodorous? You do realize there are easier ways to get my attention, right?”

Things like not blowing a hole in the train engine and knocking the entire thing off the tracks, for example.

She waved it off as two of her brat pack came out of the clouds.

The first was Marcy's right hand; Liar Luatta. She had an unassuming look, with dark hair and a plain face, but was anything but quiet unless you shut her up. Her special ability was that she was able to lie to anyone who didn't know who she was, along with some focus on mental spells. Her familiar was a giant mouth, spouting gibberish.

The second was Polyene. Pauline May was a shifter with a small blob for a familiar; her special trick was the ability to transform into any animal. Well, any normal animal, she couldn't mimic people or other familiars or anything, which was good because she was already powerful enough. She looked a bit like her familiar, like a mannequin with a blonde wig and painted features. I had no idea how she could pass as a normal human, or if she even tried.

They both floated there slightly behind their master, arms crossed in clearly disapproving stances. I drew myself up as best I could, and flicked my generator settings; normal wouldn't work for this confrontation.

“Well, Marksman, I heard you had a bit of trouble in Cannes, and I simply had to confirm it for myself.”

There wasn't a reason to lie, really. The slug witch would try to kill them if they met, and they would in turn kill her. Even if they didn't kill her it would start a feud among them, and they might be too busy trying to kill each other to do any damage to us. If they met amicably though, and teamed up... well that wouldn't be good at all.

Aside from all that I needed to play for time; my team wasn't very combat effective, but Merlin and his assistants were assets the Wyld Hunt needed to keep. I hadn't seen the assistants yet but Merlin was behind me; I needed to keep their attention on me. Even if they were all looking me over with predatory eyes right now.

“Yeah, a bit. Met a new witch that can eat other witches and gain their powers. You should totally go there and nose around. Cave on the coast, North of the city; maybe you'll be able to track her down and get eaten.”

she smirked. “Oh please. Your mother can't take me on, you really think some new blood is going to manage?”

That's right, stroke your own ego; better yet, how about I help that along?

“You, take Olivia? Don't make me laugh. She just hasn't gotten around to killing you yet.”

She did not like that at all. “Ah, poor Sasha. I had heard that you met your dear mother in Russia; no doubt it was a touching family reunion.”

She knew. How could she even know? Had she been watching somehow, or pieced it together after? No it had to be after; she wouldn't haven been able to pass up taking a shot at Olivia while I had her distracted.

If she knew, did others? Were more of them lining up even now, in order to take advantage of my teams weakness?

“Why are you here, Malodorous?”

“Well I heard about the touching reunion, as I said, and how your distraught mother left an entire hunter team alive. A very effective hunter team, with several kills to their credit, and I thought to myself, that had to be an oversight. So here I am.”

In other words, she heard that Olivia had left me alive and since she couldn't attack Olivia directly, she decided to see if killing me would hurt her. Only after finding out where I was, of course, rather quickly. I knew there were spies in Cannes! It was probably that chief frog.

“Right.” I eased my hands downward. “Still probably not too late to catch slug girl you know, if you hurry.”

Malodorous grinned, showing needle teeth. “Oh, don't worry, she's my next stop. After all, this won't take long.”

Well, fuck her too. I pulled and moved, my leg protesting. Fire and bolts of light melted the car where I'd been; some made it inside but if anyone got hit, it was there fault. There had been plenty of warning.

My return fire did not miss. The Liar took it dead center, a shield flickering as the impact drove her back, while Polyene took the other in the face and fell out of the sky, smoking. Malodorous spared half a glance for her before she wound up another shot of her own with a dismissive sniff. Fog leaked out of her, eating my next two shots.

I ducked behind the train by sliding off it, something my ankle did not appreciate. I came to rest beside Ivan, who had crawled out of the bottom service hatch/secret escape hatch. He greeted me jovially.

“Well, it's been a good run, eh Sasha? Will she make drinking cups of our skulls, you think? I've heard she does that.”

I took the time to reload; she wasn't just going to peek on me. “You worry too much, old man. We aren't beat yet. Haven't you noticed your genny charge?”

If mine had juice, I was willing to bet his did too. I'd have won, too, judging by the look on his face.

“How...?”

“Don't know, and it might not be enough, but mine will click empty before she nails us.”

“And here I thought you were just in mourning, earlier!”

Ivan grinned as he sent two knives at malodorous; she ducked back and I levered up.

She came blazing over the top next, as I knew she would, and ate two to the face. Or her fog did at least. While I ate one to the leg. The same leg that was already pissed at me. Luckily with a generator charge, my clothes were armored enough so that my leg didn't actually walk away from me or something.

My generator was at less than five percent. Again.

More knives flew, these sank into the fog and exploded. Malodorous ducked back again.

“So, not entirely defenseless. Good, I'd hate for this to be too easy.”

The train car started lifting, tearing itself free from the other cars with a pretty annoying screech.

From one side, Polyene was sort of glide slithering over, a smoking hole still in her head. From the other side, the Liar was coming into view feet first.

And Merlin was on the ground under the car, Alicia laid out next to him. He also had her whip and generator in hand.

“That will be quite enough of that, thank you.” he stated boldly as the car cleared and daylight hit him.

Was he for real? The witches stopped, probably thinking the same thing.

Malodorous sent a stream of something that looked like fog but probably wasn't at him – and it broke up before it hit. Then he cracked the whip, and the sound lashed out in a glowing wave. A glowing physical wave that knocked Malodorous on her ass.

Polyene was going to the rescue when I shot her again. She tumbled a good twenty feet and looked at the smoking hole where her heart should be. It didn't seem to slow her down any as she stood back up, though.

Ivan had the same idea with the Liar, but all he could really do was pin her down; her shield was a bit more effective, and it seemed his knives weren't suited for much. He pulled one of his smoke pellets.

Hm, so far he was using things that didn't require much power. Perhaps he was being too conservative, given what we were facing. Alicia's whip managed to score, going through the fog surrounding Malodorous as if it wasn't there and latching onto her arm. She looked at it curiously for a second before the pain and anger hit.

“You dare!”

Her next attack was a green gas belched loudly from her throat. Like the other, it broke up before it hit; Merlin waved a hand in front of his face lazily. “Phew! You must eat a lot of onions.”

Wow, Malodorous looked murderous - and that thought amused me, for some reason. But her look changed in an instant to calculating. “Who are you, and why are you working for the hunt?”

Merlin smiled - a light smile that made me cold – and replied. “Oh you have me all wrong, I'm not a witch. I'm just a concerned citizen.”

I threw split pistols, aiming one her way while the other stayed on Polyene. Emptying the clips on both kept them hopping, and kept both from thinking too hard about just what Merlin was. At least, if the train car tossed at me like a fastball was any indication.

Luckily enough it missed us all. Unluckily I got pegged by a random piece of something falling out of it.

The wonderful scent of hard liquor bloomed around me as I blearily looked for what hit me. I found it; two broken bottles of vodka, the good stuff, lying next to each other and broken the exact same way. Something was wrong with that idea, but I didn't know what it was. There was also two Alicia's, two Ivan's, and another of each witch.

It had to be multiplication magic. Damn witches and their screwy powers.

The two Merlins looked back to me and asked. “Are you alright?”

I couldn't decide which one of them to answer, so I picked one by eenie meanie miney moe. “Yeah I'm fine. Been better, but everything is still attached.”

The Polyene's spoke up from my left; when had they gotten so close? Had they taken advantage of my miney moe? Probably, they were scum after all. “Here, let me fix that.”

They both turned their arms into large sickle hands or something and took their shot, but I managed to dodge them both. And my guns were empty, so I drew the Eagle. I probably had one shot with that though and didn't want to waste it.

“Sasha!” Wow, Merlin actually sounded like he cared, there. Alicia's whip came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around both Polyene's throat. That actually caused them some issue as the whip discharged.

The Merlins on the other hand, stood fast in the face of the twin Malodorous attack, some weak fire snake thing that looked to be made of ash, protecting the Alicia's. Olivia would have been livid just from seeing such a weak fire attack. It was dispersed like the ones before it, but not before it lit both Merlin's left arms on fire.

A second attack, of battering force, knocked both Merlins to the ground. And then both Malodorous's (Malodori?) stopped, and started talking, giving us time to recover. (At least some of us; two Polyenes were pretty annoying.)

“I'll ask again, and only once more; who are you, and why are you working for the hunt?”

“The answer won't change even if you ask again. Malodorous.”

Merlin sent a bolt of something downrange at the enemy just as I got managed to maneuver the Polyene's into the shot. The Eagle barked and broke my wrist, but at this range even if my aim was off I couldn't miss. Both Polyenes vanished in the flash, splattering everywhere. The Malodori managed to block both shots, but I could tell how close it had been. She picked herself up, spitting dirt, and I couldn't resist.

“Rumors of my weakness have been greatly exaggerated.”

“So I see.' she replied. 'Come on Liar, Poly; we're leaving.”

I switched to the other wrist, but my generator was empty. Completely bone dry, showing zero percent. Probably just as well, since my other wrist probably wasn't up to firing the Eagle anyway. It didn't matter since Malodorous had left; she was Cannes problem now.

“Well doc, I'm not sure that counts as a successful bodyguarding mission or not; this is one hell of a mess. I'm not cleaning that up, by the way.” 'That' was the train. I'd already had my community service for the year. Also, we hadn't actually caught a witch; even Polyene was gone, somehow, and she hadn't left a hat behind.

The Merlins smiled. “Don't worry about it; I'll call it in and someone will be along. For now, let's get you and your team to the next town. I'd call it a success, by the way, and will say as much to The Gloom.”

Well, that was a relief, kind of. Much less relieving was the fact that I couldn't seem to get up, and the Merlins currently blocking out the sun had multiplied to four.

“Alicia okay?”

“Yes, she's fine. I'm more worried about you. Stan! Phil! Get out here!”

Stan and Phil huh? So those were the names of his assistants. I had more pressing concerns, but it was nice to know.

“So, you can do magic.”

Merlins nodded and held up a hand. “The process I'd like to use on you, I used on myself first. It was less effective than it should be with you. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Twelve.' Each Merlin was holding up three fingers, and there were four of them. 'So what did you do, exactly?” I hadn't ever seen magic like that.

The Merlins all grinned. “It's simple; I have one trick. I can steal the magic behind a witch's spells, store some of it for a time, and use it for a variety of effects. Things like unraveling spells cast my way or channeling power into a generator or even hunter weapons directly are not beyond me. For all of that though, I am weak. I cannot take on a witch alone and hope to live.”

Maybe not, but he'd be one hell of a support for a team – if there were more of him. At least now I knew how our generators had a charge. But he was right about that; five percent of a charge a day (Or was it two days, now?) wasn't enough to do much; with just that, a team would have to sit idle for too long, and Merlin's time would probably be better spent doing sciency things.

But if he could repeat the effect he had, give it to more hunters? We could win the war inside of a year, probably. At the very least we'd stop losing.

Merlin was puttering over me, muttering about my wrist. “Merlin.”

“Hm?”

“This thing of yours, I'm in.”

His eyebrows rose and a smile so wide it seemed to go around the back broke out on his face, but still he asked. “Are you sure? It isn't really the sort of thing one should decide when concussed.”

I met his gaze... all of them. “I'm sure.”

He shrugged. “Alright, but I'll have to get you healed first, or it might affect the procedure. You've been pretty ill-used already, and you need to recover to ensure survival.”

That could take weeks, even with my recovery being augmented.

Stan and Phil showed up, bearing a stretcher while Merlin fiddled with a generator – Alicia's. It had a charge still I guess. I could tell the way Ivan was looking at his own genny as he walked up that he was clicking empty. Merlin hooked Alicia's generator into my jacket then held out a pill.

“For the pain.”

Ivan stopped the hand before Merlin could deliver the pill. “Should you be handing him one of those, with a head injury?”

Merlin nodded. “Normally, no. But I deem it necessary. The generator will ensure he recovers, and the pill will keep him from aggravating his injuries.”

Ivan knew me, and let go. Merlin grabbed my head and held it steady while he stuck the pill in my face. I had no choice but to force it down, and I just knew it wasn't even the good stuff.

Sure enough everything just sort of broke apart and faded away, leaving me drifting; the last thing I could focus on was Ivan picking up my guns.

…...

I woke briefly a few times, the sensation of floating in the air – of being carried – strong. Then again to the noise of a town; there was too much for it to be a village or hamlet. Then again as a train started up. Each time, Merlin would be there and I'd feel a pinch in my arm, and everything would fall away again. Finally when I woke, I was able to stop him from sticking the needle in; The train had stopped, and we were in Central. Ivan was beside Merlin, and Alicia was awake and grumpy looking on her own cot. It made her beard bristle.

They carried us side by side, though I probably could have walked. Maybe. Kind of. Almost. I used the time to write up my report, since I hadn't done it yet and whoever was at the front desk (maybe Sarah!) would want it.

Thanks to the jostling ride, my penmanship looked better than ever.

I shoved it in a folder as we went up the steps. It was complete enough, and clerical types loved folders for everything. Well, not the monastic kind of cleric, but the office worker kind.

And what do you know, it was Sarah behind the desk again. “Sarah! Good morning!”

She looked up and blinked, slowly. “Good morning, Sasha. You're looking... Well, you've looked better.”

I threw my folder at her desk. It landed perfectly of course because I was just that good. “Yeah, Marcy the Malodorous dumped a train on my head. Nothing I couldn't handle, of course. That's my report of it.”

Alicia said something she thought was funny: “Sasha is just like a roach; witches can't stomp him.”

Sarah opened the folder and looked at the half a page in silence; why would she look so sad? The fight hadn't been that bad! Certainly not enough for the look of quiet despair stealing across her lovely face. What could cause such dawning horror?

She slammed the folder closed, panting, as Ivan delivered his own report (five pages, collated and stapled together, with no folder, almost like he wanted to make us look bad) and turned to him.

“Thank you, Ivan, I'm sure your report will be a great help.”

He just waved at her. Merlin gestured with a grin. “Well now, let's get you to both to medical, shall we?”

I waved with my good hand. “Bye Sarah!”

She smiled back. “Goodbye, Sasha.”

We split up; Alicia and I went to medical, with Ivan trailing. Merlin stayed behind, asking Sarah some questions I couldn't hear. I almost yelled for silence, but that would just make Merlin stop talking too. Perhaps not a bad plan, there....

I almost yelled for an entirely different reason when we hit the waiting room. Irene was working!

Irene “Icky” Green, a young doctor with degrees in holistic medicine, sporting a lab coat that was more brown than white. She had been on leave the last time we had rolled through – or suspension – and I hadn't seen her. She was still the same tall, thin, dark-haired and pasty face girl I remembered though, with a hatchet face and thin lips set over a wide mouth. She also looked like she had rolled around in mud more than I had, recently.

“Oh hey, if it isn't the current bearer of the frequent visitor's card. Hey, Sasha, how are you doing?” she didn't wait to hear it from me, instead starting in with her poking, prodding, and moving me around.

“Oh, you know me, can't stay away.”

She took out a light and shined it in my eyes. “Head injury this time, huh? Well, it doesn't look too bad.”

How did she guess? No one had told her yet. “Yeah, got smacked in the head with a train car. Same old same old.”

She stopped, looking at Alicia's generator, which was still hooked up to my jacket. It had been altered a bit to ensure it worked for me, and cunning observer that she was, she picked up on it. “Well, that isn't yours.”

“Nah, it's Alicia's. Merlin messed with it some to help me heal.”

“Really? Looks like it saved your life. How is Alicia?”

I looked for her. She wasn't here; she'd been moved somewhere else, to another room? “Well, she was fine five minutes ago, if not well enough to whine about me using her generator.”

Come to think of it, how had Merlin reworked the generator? They were supposed to be tamper proof in the field. I doubted even Emil could tinker with one outside his lab.

“How bad is he?” Merlin asked.

Irene responded as like I expected. “Well, Sasha is notoriously tough, even without a generator involved. With one? Maybe a week. Of course, the charge on Alicia's generator is about non-existent, so that might mean a few more days. But all in all, the worst is behind him, and nothing looks life threatening.”

It was true, my head was my hardest part. But even healed, our future was bleak. We would have to try and take a witch without any generator juice. I was out, Ivan was out, and Alicia was going to be out. Even a weak witch would probably kill us, and we couldn't rely on Merlin to feed us power like he had; he was essentially a living passive generator but needed something to work with... and I had no doubt he was clicking empty too.

So a week to get better, and then maybe a month to live. Especially with the Malodorous looking for me – unless Merlin did his thing. Oh well, I ain't no chicken.

“We're still on, Merlin. Will the recovery time be a problem?”

He looked down and smiled sunnily at me. “No, not at all. In fact, it's not an issue at all; I can start the procedure now, as long as I know you're stable.”

Irene butted in. “He's stable. But what procedure are you talking about? I know you're a doctor, but...”

“Oh, just a highly experimental procedure designed to create the next generation hunter.”

Irene opened her mouth again, and I closed it. “Mind your own business, Irene. Genny's empty, and nothing saved. You know what that means.”

She looked away. “Fine, but as your doctor, I want in.”

Merlin bowed. “Of course. Shall we go?”

Irene looked surprised. “Right now?”

Merlin unhooked Alicia's generator. “Sure, no time like the present. Id have preferred to do this in my own lab, but here is fine. To the dungeon we go!”

He wheeled me off himself, a spring in his step, while I tried to stay awake without the generator's help. I failed.

…...

I woke up strapped to a table; I could hear yelling, and it was making my head pound.

“Shut up, Gloom! Damn!”

Then my mind caught up to my mouth, and I realized how screwed I was. The Gloom leaned over me, a look I couldn't read on his face. I should be able to read it, really, since faces were like books. Then it occurred to me that I might be a little loopy.

“Sasha, are you alright?” Concern, that as the look! Well, at least he wasn't going to pull my head off or something.

“M'fine, m'fine. The doc do his thing?” I could see Emil and Merlin both beside each other in the corner, and both wringing their hands in sync, oddly enough. Ivan was watching them, and Irene had her arms crossed on my other side.

“No, he hasn't. I stopped him. You're safe.”

Safe? Was he kidding me? Who was ever safe, now? “Don't. I said yes.”

“Sasha, you have a head injury.”

Merlin uncoiled his hands and produced a piece of paper. I could kind of tell from here that it had my signature, but I don't remember signing anything. “I have written permission and a waiver, Gloom, all legal. You just heard his verbal permission. You can't stop us anymore; you know what will happen.”

“Yeah, fuck that; try me.” He turned back to me as Merlin walked up. “You sure about this, Sasha?”

His hands were dug into the bed so tightly they were white. “M'sure. You know what happens.”

He shook his head. “If it's about that, I can help! I have a full generator....”

I cut him off, my blood hot. “No! Don't want yours, don't want others – our problem, I'll fix it.”

He stared into my eyes a long time; I didn't blink. Then with a shrug, he backed off. “Alright, Sasha. Just don't die on me, okay?”

I snorted. “You should know better; I'm tougher than I look. Took a train to the head, just last week....”

“That was only five days ago Sasha. See you on the flip side.”

He walked out, heading up, and the scientists closed in.

I laughed and stomped down, the little ants fleeing before me. Small witches, so small I could barely make out faces and their voices did that funny high-pitch thing scattered before me. I was a giant, a tough giant, and their spells were useless! I could use their bones to make my bread, or something.

Of course, I knew it was a dream, but it was a nice one. Very restful, smashing people who weren't really people into gooey paste.

I woke up with a yawn and stretched; it felt good.

Well, a yawn anyway; the stretched part was hard, considering how strapped down I was. Still was. My freshly opened eyes revealed I was still on the bed, but it was cranked up to a semi-standing position somehow, I would be sliding off the bed if I wasn't strapped onto it. There was a tray of medical instruments, scalpels and probes and other nasty things next to me – that I was sure none of which were supposed to be used in the procedure, not that I was sure what was used, other than I had been assured it was not invasive – and I could see the lights on in the observation area above.

To my other side, there was an old generator, one older than I'd ever seen. Its guts were splayed across the table it was sitting on, and looked to have been hacked apart. I knew part of the process had involved trying to repeat some of the older experiments regarding magic on record, but opening up what had to have been a first generation generator seemed over the top... they had been rumored to leak. A lot. At least that was the official response given for the insanity and clawing of eyeballs that happened after six months to a year of steady use.

All the usual suspects were here: Ivan, Alicia, Emil, Irene, Dustin (who probably needed to be somewhere else), the rest of his team (whose names I can't really be bothered to remember) and most worryingly, both the Gloom and Plague.

They all had their various weapons pointed right at me.

“Uh... hi?” I did my best to choke out. My throat was pretty raw for some reason.

Plague lowered her weapon first, a larger than normal flail. She looked very sad for a moment. “Oh, Sasha...”

I tried to respond again when she trailed off; it took a couple tries. “What? I'm fine. Or at least I appear to be fine. I feel fine, at any rate. Why the hell are you all acting like this is a wake?”

I couldn't even look down at myself. Sure, I didn't feel any pain, and I seemed to feel all my limbs present and accounted for and I wasn't in any pain, but experiments sometimes did funny things.

“How about something to drink?”

Dustin and his team kept me covered while Ivan got me a glass – then put a straw in it. Alicia crowded close, her face stormy under her beard, but Ivan was acting on-the-job professional. He poured what smelled like water, which was a shame; I'd have preferred beer. I couldn't move my head; Ivan brought the straw close.

Alicia shook her said and muttered as I started drinking, the water a warm balm all the way down. “It's not fair. Not fair at all.”

“What,” I cleared my throat and tried again. “What isn't fair?”

The voice that responded, finally shaken free of the rust that had coated it, was a clear dulcet bell tone that straddled the line between tenor and soprano; it sounded as if it were singing when it wasn't. It also wasn't close to my own manly tones, and I looked around curiously for whoever was trying to imitate me – just for future reference, and not for any vengeance or anything.

Alicia just sighed. “Even the voice, damn it, it's not fair at all!”

Merlin stepped up. “So, Sasha. You're awake, right? Fully awake, and in control of your faculties? I'd be very interested in hearing of any side effects you may be experiencing.”

I tried again, and again the voice of an angel responded. “Well, other than my voice, I don't know. I don't think I feel any different.”

Yes, it was vague, but the way they were all looking at me (some of them still with weapons pointed; behavior I expect from Duncan but not anyone else) And other than the vague feeling of comforting, near stifling warmth, something which could be from the clothes I was wearing (I knew I was wearing something, I just couldn't see what it was with my head strapped down) I felt good. My senses seemed sharper than ever, and my body seemed sensitive. Judging from the muscle twitches, it felt more responsive than ever, and if the nerves felt slightly off, as if they were in the wrong place, what of it?

I felt alive.

Merlin persisted. “Do you hear any... voices?”

Idiot. “Of course I do, you're yapping at me after all, so I hear yours.” That came out as if it were sung, I'd need to work harder to roughen it up. Maybe I could deepen it a little if I tried?

The Gloom's lips turned upward slightly, and Plague snorted laughter; I winced, it wasn't a pleasant sound.

Merlin sighed behind a smile of his own. “I meant voices in your head.”

Voices like witches listened to, of course. “No, nothing of the sort.”

“And when you look at us, what do you see?”

Well, that was a weird question. And a bit ominous. I thought about it a minute. “Comrades. One of whom I owe for fucking up my manly voice.”

Deepening my voice made it worse, more of a low but light tenor. There had to be a way.... At least Merlin had the good grace to look guilty. He spoke up again, holding up my guns – I was beginning to get a little angry – I was still strapped down.

“What do you think of these, Sasha?”

“I think I owe you a bit more for touching my guns. If you get your dirty fingerprints on them....”

Well, trying to scratch up the voice didn't work either.

Merlin looked to Gloom, and Gloom nodded. “That's normal.”

A chorus of nods rippled around the rest of the peanut gallery. Merlin set them down gently and eased his hands away, and pointed to the generator on the table. “And that?”

“I think Emil must be pissed you ripped up one of his generators. What did you even do to that thing, anyway?”

Emil nodded with a smile as Merlin answered nonchalantly “Oh, just used it to graft a magic matrix to your body.”

Well, that explained that... wait, what? That was his process? A magic matrix was a bit of a theoretical doublespeak meaning the unknown bit of something attached to the person of the witch somehow in order to give them special powers; the thing that made them different. I wasn't really as caught up on the science-y side of things, being far more involved in... practical applications.

“You grafted a magic matrix to my soul?”

Merlin started popping cuffs, and Dustin's team tensed. The Gloom and Plague were relaxed, though, and – was Plague crying? “Yes. Only a few humans alive are capable of having such matrices applied, and fewer still are the males capable of undergoing the process. In all my testing I've only found two. And of course, it seems the process needs refined; there are side effects.”

I stretched languidly, and it felt as marvelous as I had suspected it would. I tried roughening up my voice again. “Things like my voice, right? I think I can deal with it. I'll just stop talking or something. Maybe take up smoking or something.”

Merlin Blushed and Plague burst into noisy tears. “Ah, not quite. In your case the process worked a little too well, I'm afraid. Look down, please.”

I looked down. I was dressed in something weird; it was a robe that looked like a dress, or a dress that looked like a robe. It was black, hugged every curve gently, but covered everything and reached my ankles.

I also had curves to fill it out; I had boobs and flared hips. The boobs were a bit more small than I preferred, but since they were hanging off of me that was probably for the best. A flash of color caught my eye, and I pulled some hair forward, it was both longer and darker than I was used to; a strawberry blonde that reached my chin and was a bit too close to red for my taste.

My hands were even smaller than before, and my wrists were so small they would probably break if I tried to lift my travel pack or generator. Bending slightly, I could see small, delicate feet with perfectly cut nails.

“Merlin.” I was proud of how even my new voice was. The Gloom tensed in his seat, where he was patting Plague's shoulder awkwardly.

“Yes, Sasha?” I looked; Merlin was in a dress, no doubt about what it was. A slight shuffle step towards my guns had everyone on edge, but he didn't notice.

“Who changed my clothes?”

“No one did, actually.” Merlin reached up and plucked something off my head; I felt cold instantly.

It was black and conical, with a wide brim and a top that was bent crooked. The stereotypical witch's or sorcerer's hat, such as was never actually seen on a witch. Merlin took a step back and I got even colder. The world began to recede as if I were seeing it from the end of a tunnel which was rapidly growing longer. Sounds, smells, even colors were muted, and my field of vision started to shrink.

I reached out to try and get the warmth and light back, only to watch as my hand slowly rose and get avoided easily. Something was wrong – it was very hard to focus, to care. I was back on the bed without any idea how I'd gotten there, and everyone was watching me with cold eyes.

And then the hat was back, placed firmly upon my head at what had to be a jaunty angle, and the warmth, sight, and sound snapped back immediately. If I hadn't already been on the bed, I might have fallen.

“What the fuck was that?”

I knew what it was, it was a witch's hat, or the effect of one. I had just felt it from the other side, what happened when a witch was deprived of her hat; I had been reaching, and would have gleefully followed that hat into a fire or a gas chamber.

It was a witch's hat and it was clearly mine, which meant....

Plague bolted out of her chair, past the Gloom, and grabbed me to her. “It's true Sasha my love! We have been parted most cruelly, our love forbidden for all time!”

She paused mid sob. “Well, at the very least our lust has been forbidden for all time. After all, how would....”

Na na na na, not hearing this, not hearing this! I shoved her off with effort and turned to the Gloom.

“So... I'm a witch.”

He nodded. I think he knew I had to ask.

“Fully a witch?”

“Fully a witch. Inside and outside.” Irene interrupted, answering for him.

Witches were female. There were no male witches. I wanted to double (and maybe triple) check, but Plague was creeping me out already and I didn't want to give her any more ideas.

“So what happens now?”

Gloom motioned the weapons down; most complied but Dustin ignored it.

“When the Wyld Hunt first started, the organization accepted some witches. Or rather, since witches were traitorous, some witches were given the option of servitude or death. It did not end well for us, but there are some artifacts left over from that time.

You have two options. One, you stay here – as a lab rat. Emil and Merlin have already expressed their favor for that plan."

Merlin nodded enthusiastically, almost throwing the ribbon from his hair with the force. “Yep! Think of all we could learn! Maybe we could refine the process and use it on the entire Hunt!”

Gloom and I shuddered together and tried very hard to ignore Plague's fresh bout of noisy sobbing. Gloom's voice was steady as he continued. “The other option is we take one of the old explosive collars, fit it to you, and send you back out in the field with a willing team of minders.”

Merlin decided he wasn't done creeping me out. “That could also work! Think of all the data that could be learned from our very own free-range witch!”

“I ain't no chicken, Merlin.” I noticed The Gloom didn't say anything about option three or four. I wasn't going to be allowed to die or 'retire'.

Merlin looked confused; The Gloom pressed on. “So, no voices?”

“No, I'm not hearing or seeing anything different.” I didn't think so, anyway. I looked around the room; it looked normal to me. The people in it looked like they should.

“Well, you're acting like you; what's your choice?”

A crappy choice was still a choice. My own words coming back to bite me. “The collar, of course. Who is going to be my handler?”

“Well, I haven't picked anyone yet. The list is a short one.” Of course, it was; it had to be someone willing and able to put me down if I started randomly killing people. Well... the wrong people. And not only willing, they had to be able; not just anyone would be able to take me if I went off the reservation, even with a full team. I could pretty much count the number of people who had a shot at doing it with my fingers.

I refocused on the Gloom; he hadn't stopped talking. “I can tell you that your team will be part of it.”

That was smart enough; if there was anything left of me when I went off the rails, I might hesitate to kill my old team, allowing them to kill me. Or I might go after them first, giving plenty of warning to set the collar off; really it could go either way.

Irene was wasting no time; she already had the table wheeled up with the collar on it. It was odd, a thin strip of platinum with a weird hook setup on both ends; the front center was slightly bigger and bulged, but the entire thing wasn't obvious and could be mistaken for some odd jewelry by those who didn't know any better. Beside it were two small hand-held trigger detonators; squeezing either would set the necklace off.

Irene reached around me and clicked the collar closed; I stayed very still while she took a tool resembling a screwdriver and tightened it shut. With a final squeak, it was done; the thing wouldn't come off until my head did, now.

Irene put a hand over my eyes. “What the heck?!?”

“Sorry. It's just these idiots forgot a detail. All safe now.”

She removed her hand and the triggers were gone; I didn't know who had which one, which was a reasonable precaution.

“Alright, you've seen it go on Gloom. We are now one hundred percent sure she isn't going to wake up and kill me, or anything similar. So get out, now I need to do my job.”

Her job consisted of poking me with needles and then probing places I had no business having with cold tools she had no business using. Now I knew why Alicia wanted to be a man so badly she disguised as one; I don't think Irene was fooled, though.

I also think one of the needles she poked me with added something instead of taking something; I had no other way to explain how I'd almost killed her twice, dead man's switch be damned, and yet hadn't.

I did find out no one dressed me; there was a time when no one was looking at me, and my clothes just changed. Which seems odd, considering what my body was doing at the time. The clothes change included new underwear of a matching style, something that didn't know whether it wanted to be plain cotton or lace, and chose both instead.

It had to mean something, but what?

Irene snagged my hat; I made a grab for her before everything slowed down, but missed. Something was different in my reach. I watched as she put the thing inside the glass case of a machine and hit buttons and levers for awhile. She threw it back over her shoulder; it landed squarely on my head, and just like that I was back.

“Can you re-size your hat?” Irene asked; she was carefully lowering her tools in some boiling water. Why she couldn't have done that before using them, I'll never know.

“No?” Could I? How would I even do that?

“Hm. Most witches instinctively know a little, usually a few tricks. For most of them, it's hiding their hats; you don't know any way to do that, or anything at all?”

I did know how to imbue my power (or at least what I felt must be my power) into generators. I could probably do it to my guns directly, too. But I had nothing on hats. Heck, I even hated hats... even ones so comfy you could forget you were wearing them.

“No, I got nothing for hats. I do have a way to charge a genny, but that's it.”

“Very odd. So not quite a witch then. At least, that's what it'll say in my official report.” Irene turned away and started cleaning up. There had been quite the vigil while I was out, and they had left a mess. Emil alone would have ensured no staff came down here. “Now get out Sasha, and don't come back.”

She said the same thing every time she saw me. “Sure thing Irene.”

The party was waiting outside, all of them. The Gloom had my guns in his hand.

“Could I have my guns back now, please?” I could be polite!

“I don't think so, Sasha. Not just yet. When you head out, sure. Until then I'll be keeping them. What did Irene say?”

I could deal with that for now, I guess. “She said I wasn't like a real witch. Something about not having the knowledge of one. Are you sure I can't have my guns back? They aren't even loaded.”

Okay, so maybe I couldn't deal with it. Irene had also said I was all woman sometime in that diatribe of hers, but Irene was a hack, and I wasn't able to focus very well when she'd taken my stupid hat.

“Speaking of, you might want to hide yours. Oh, and hand me your clothes.”

I looked at the Gloom as behind him, Plague and Alicia both slapped hands to their faces. Surely I hadn't heard that right, had I?

“What did you just say?” I mean, I wasn't going to display myself in a bra of all things, and we were heading back up to the lobby!

“Oh, right. My bad.” He gestured, and Sylvie handed me a bundle.

“That's your uniform. If you hide your hat, you might be able to pass.”

“If I'm going to try passing, I'll need my guns.” There was no way people wouldn't notice. The Wyld Hunt were all trained to be observant, and while I hadn't seen my own face yet, the changes I had seen would be more than enough to out me.

He sighed, and tossed them on top. “Sure. Just change already, and hide your hat. Use that storeroom there.”

I walked into it and made sure the coast was clear. Since it was standing room only, that wasn't hard to do.

The bundle not only contained a jacket shirt and pants, it contained a generator too. It looked like my generator, but picking it up revealed the truth; it was just the case with nothing else in it. It still had the plugs for my guns, though, so I settled it next to them on the belt, just like always.

The hat was a problem, but I settled for sliding it down the back of my tucked in dress shirt and putting the jacket on over it; The Gloom was always trying to make me dress respectably. The included boots and socks were a size smaller than I should be wearing, but they fit, and it beat going barefoot. Something about them bothered me, though; the design was similar to what I normally wore, but not the same.

“Button the jacket.” The Gloom ordered, and I did so.

We all made it out of medical and hit the lobby. No one gave me a second glance, though some focused on The Gloom or Plague, so that kind of made sense. I guess.

Sarah was on desk duty. “Hello, Mr. Gloom! Oh, Sasha, you're up already?”

“Yep! I'm pretty tough you know.” I winced; I'd just spoke up, forgetting about my new voice.

Sarah didn't notice or appeared not to. She had already turned back to her work. “Right. Good to have you back up and around.”

I was almost past when she looked up. “Sasha?”

We all stopped dead, even The Gloom. “Yes?”

“There's something different about you....”

she put her chin in a hand, leaning in, lost in thought for a moment. The snap of her fingers was as loud as a gunshot. “I've got it!”

“You do?”

“yes, you're wearing a dress shirt!”

Plague grabbed me to make sure I didn't fall over, her face a mute apology. For all the things Sarah could have noticed – the actual bustline, modest though it was, the hips, the hair color, hell even the fact that my eyelashes seemed to be longer somehow, the voice – and the shirt was what she picked up on?

It was fine. I was a man and could deal with the crushing sense of... something. Even if I wasn't a man anymore. But she didn't even know me well enough to notice I'd changed.

The Gloom led us into one of the weapons testing rooms. One of the private and hard to get ones. He just walked right in and told the hunter there to get out. Tall, grizzled and scarred like all our vets, the man left with a shrug. What was his name... oh right, Ash. Ashen Ash, the fire user, not to be confused with Boomstick, the really fun guy at parties.

The Gloom put my robe-dress thing on a target dummy, set it up downrange, and gestured.

“Dustin, could you do the honors? My power is overkill and the Plague's is hard to gauge.”

With a shrug and a look my way (yeah, eff you too buddy) he unlimbered his weapon and charged, slashing at the dummy.

“The clothing of a witch acts much like our own uniforms in a way, drawing strength from the witch and protecting her. Irene confirmed you had power but it may not be the same, so we're testing.”

Dustin completed some combo that was probably meant to be intimidating but just looked silly, finishing it with a move that drenched my dress-robe in water, then blanketed it in ice. The ice didn't stick, and the robe looked fine; I could see the shallow slashes on it from here, but they hadn't gone through and the dummy was still intact.

Man, Dustin was weak.

The Gloom walked up and took his own look, shooting glances my way while Dustin panted counterpoint.

“Well, that works. Usually, the strength of a witch can be determined by the level of attack their clothing can withstand.”

I nodded. Every hunter worth anything knew this. It was how they could survive sneak attacks from long range artillery. The clothing was usually weaker than hunter issue, but the witch usually had more active shields to make up for it. There had even been a theory that the level of a witch's hat taken could increase what attacks the hunter uniform could stand, but that hadn't really been proven.

Gloom continued. “Well, judging from this alone, I'd place you around about average for a witch in strength.”

Dustin laughed. “All that, all this effort and bullshit, and you slid backwards. That's priceless.”

“I'll show you backwards.” I took a step, and everyone tensed.

Sigh, fine. I held my hands up. “Alright, maybe I won't. Don't want to pick on the weak anyway; after all, who couldn't actually go through the cloth on the dummy, Dustin?”

Wow, that was a nice shade of purple he turned. “Any time you stuck up sorry excuse for a hunter! The ice ripple may not have gotten through, but the physical attacks went through like a charm.”

“Ice ripple? Did you actually name an attack ice ripple? Seriously? And the dummy still exists, so clearly something went wrong somewhere.”

“I was trying not to destroy a training room! You know, teach you some restraint, since the staff have to repair one every time you leave?!?”

The Gloom interrupted. “Charming discussion, children, but that was a good point just now. Sasha, your clothing seems to be more effective against magical than purely physical attacks. That is unusual, but not unheard of. It is, however, something to note and plan around; if an enemy gets close you stand a good chance of dying now.”

Well, that was true enough before; I'd always been a ranged fighter. I shrugged at him. He got mad, and turned to the dummy; the room went darker than the depths of a tar pit, oppressive and cloying. I hit the deck, knowing it was already too late.

Neither the dummy nor the dress survived.

The Gloom turned back to me, his eyes leaking black smoke. “This isn't a joke, Sasha. Nor is it a game. Not only do you have a chance of dying from witches, now you could well die from our own. I have to tell the other hunters; we wouldn't be able to hide this for long.”

He said that as if my chances of dying weren't stupid high before, with high level witches actively seeking my death. At least now I had a weapon I couldn't be deprived of in the fight; I could feel it under my skin, like a warm sluggish current or secondary blood system. But I wasn't about to tell him that. Any of it.

I was pretty sure he knew anyway.

“Alright. We have this room for the day. No one is leaving; Sasha, I suggest you practice.”

He stood there, hands in pockets, staring at me.

“Uh, don't I need my ammo for that?” I already knew the guns were empty, they were too light. There weren't any clips in the jacket either.

“Do you?”

I nodded. So we were playing that game.

“Alright, everyone else, practice things now.” They didn't have to be told twice; even Plague.

Gloom was close; I backpedaled but his hand reached out and latched onto my shoulder. The touch was oddly gentle but had no give. His other hand reached down and cupped my chin, making sure our eyes met. “Alright Sasha; what can you do? Anything at all?”

“I, uh, can't do anything. If you're expecting me to know that kind of crap, you're going to be disappointed. The only thing I can say I know for sure to do is charge a generator, and that's probably because I watched Merlin do it.”

He let go and assumed his thinker pose, which was basically just standing around with a hand propped under his chin. “Hm, a result of the lack of a familiar? Or something else... We've never had a witch 'born' without a familiar, so....”

I had to interrupt him, or he would theory me to death.“I don't know. But I can still practice other things. Moving, dodging, stuff like that. I just want you to know I can't do anything crazy.”

Okay, what had I ever done to deserve that look?

Okay, this week?

“Fine, I'll believe you. I'll be right back with some generators. For now, work on your CQC; warm up, and do the moves she taught you.”

Not, 'I believe you' or 'you're telling the truth', but 'I'll believe you', as if it was only his choice. “Which ones?” I did know several, after all.

“Whatever you want. I intend to field you as soon as possible, so you need to work the kinks out.”

Well, that at least was good news; I was half worried he'd keep me in central pushing papers. Plague tapped me on the shoulder – and I had heard her sneaking up on me before. I was in no way surprised, and I will swear to that. I most certainly did not give out the squeak of a stomped mouse and whirl around so fast my hair smacked my eyes.

Plague didn't say anything about it. “Want help with that? We could spar or just go through the motions; I know what you were taught after all.” Her grin was small and genuine, and not at all threatening; she didn't even show her teeth.

It was creepy.

“Um, sure.”

I started stretching, and Plague joined me after a moment. And boy, could I stretch. Muscles I was sure I didn't have moved in well-oiled concert, almost perfectly. Things were ever so slightly off, and I was sure Plague noticed.

Dustin and Ivan apparently noticed too; I grinned as Alicia clocked Dustin in the head after he stopped dead in the middle of a spar; that will teach him to stare at me! Rat-bastard. If he whips out a camera I'll kill him, bomb or no bomb.

I started with what I used most, and Plague frowned but followed along. My punches lacked some of their snap and my effective reach had changed, I could feel it. My kicking arc was different, and my balance was shot.

The Gloom returned before I could make some real headway in those departments, bearing a cart with more than a dozen generators on it. I sighed and looked at my fist; all the calluses were gone.

I recognized some of the generators, just like the Gloom had said; there was Ivan's, and Alicia's, put back together; there was Marcone's and Deet's, and right there was Fred's, and over there was... Sinister Sally's.

Most of the generators were unmarked, belonging to new or unknown hunters, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. One the one hand, one EARNED their place among the Wyld Hunt, usually by killing a witch with as little charge in their genny to start with as we could manage; for some, that was zero. On the other hand, putting any charge into a newbies genny the old fashioned way (or even just equipping them) only to have them die was a waste. The Gloom was clearly wanted to stop or slow that down; who knows, maybe sending newbies out with fully charged generators will help? Not that I could see how exactly, a newbie was a newbie.

The other generators, however....

Marcone, Fred, and Deet were veterans, all a year or so older than I was, all with at least a dozen confirmed kills to their credit. Well Fred might not be that high yet, but he was close; the three were good solid hunters, who from just judging how bad their gennys looked, all got hit hard. But all three were usually on different teams, and their team-mates gennys weren't on the cart.

Sinister Sally worked alone; she was like Plague in that she used generator enhanced poisons, but unlike Plague in that she preferred to use them as a poisoner would; from a distance and over time. She was the Wyld Hunt's assassin, killing witches too powerful and high profile for most using means even the Hunt found questionable. To have her generator here meant she had tried all her usual tricks, running it empty – and failed to get the kill.

“Go ahead Sasha.”

I realized I'd been staring while The Gloom had been getting more impatient. At least he wasn't biting my head off. I decided not to test my luck.

The first generator was unmarked, and as I thought, it was an empty blank. With a shrug I filled it and moved on; someone was going to get a nice surprise.

Then I realized I was an idiot. Well, a smart idiot, but even smart guys (or gals) can screw up sometimes! Filling all these would probably be impossible for me. But The Gloom hadn't said fill them, he'd said give them a charge; how much was up to me. Generators were all standard in capacity; there weren't any tricks there. They had to be when carrying anymore charge made them unstable bombs more dangerous to the hunter than the prey. So using the first as a guide, I realized I could probably half fill them.

An hour of mind-numbing tedium later, and it was done. And if Sinister Sally's generator had just a little less than half charge, well no one would know but me... and possibly her. It was for a good cause since just getting it close had made me dizzy. And given me some of the symptoms of my hat being gone, when it clearly wasn't.

For the first time in an hour, someone spoke in the room. “That's the best I can do. Sally's is a bit less than half, but it's as close as I can make it right now.”

Now why had I said that? The perfect crime, and I'd unmasked it!

“I'll be sure to tell her. The others?”

“All half charge.” I wasn't about to tell him about the first. He'd chew me out over proper recharging or whatever.

“Alright, that will do. Go get some rest, Sasha; you look like you could use it.”

I didn't want to get some rest; I'd just been in bed a few hours ago. But moving was such a chore right now. “Alright.”

The Gloom looked surprised when I headed for the door. What?

“I do still use my old room, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. I just expected more of an argument.”

I was too tired for that. I was even too tired to object when the Plague came along, attaching herself firmly to my hip for the walk. We didn't earn more than a second glance, and more than a few people waved at me while firmly ignoring Plague.

I was not too tired to object to her getting into bed with me.

“Get out vile woman!”

She just laughed. Just laughed! If my guns were loaded, I'd... well I'd probably not shoot at her; it might piss her off and she was better than me.

“Sleep well, Sasha.” she said, blowing a kiss at me and backing out the door, still laughing.

I couldn't really move all that well, but my eyes worked. My room had been ransacked. Oh, it still looked mostly the same, with the trash and clothes in almost the same spots, but it was ever so slightly off. A rush job, and if I ever found out who, they were getting fired. The one thing I was certain of, was all that all of my ammunition and bullet making equipment was gone.

I was defenseless.

Nothing I could really do about it. Maybe whoever it was stationed outside would protect me if I needed it. Maybe not.

…....

“So, what do you think?” she asked, rejoining the others where those in the know were quarantined.

“He... No, she – was able to half charge a dozen generators alone, in one sitting. If Merlin and Irene are right, and her connection is incomplete... well, her blood tells. As it stands now, she's mid-range for them; even without the new jewelry a team could dispatch her. If I have to, Sally can do it; she's back in Central with a freshly charged generator.”

“Devious.” Plague countered.

Gloom shrugged. “Not really, her latest target took every poison she could make and laughed. Found her, confronted her on it, then let her live. Her title as one of the four is well earned.”

“Well, you did warn Sally when she took the contract, didn't you? Your hands are clean.”

Gloom shrugged again, absorbed in watching the kids fight. “Hardly clean, but of course I warned her; I do what I can. It's all falling apart, Tonya. I thought we'd have another generation, that I wouldn't see it, but it's happening now; they get stronger each year, and we get weaker. We won't be able to keep up at all five years from now, no matter what I do. Within twenty it'll just be witches fighting among themselves for what's left.”

Plague slugged him in the shoulder then sat beside him, pulling out a flask. “Enough of that, though I agree with you. Unless something changes, humanity is done. But that's why we're trying to change things. It's also why I don't murder you for doing unspeakable things to my sister's cute little apprentice; humanity needs you too much.”

Gloom sighed and took the proffered flask. “At this point, I'm not sure I'd stop you. Maybe you should have this job.”

Tonya watched as he drained the flask, frowning. “You were supposed to share. We both know I'm not strong enough for the job; the leader is supposed to be the strongest, and that's you. And in another few years, it was supposed to be Sasha. Too bad on that.”

Gloom shuddered, passing the empty flask back. “I actually think we dodged a bullet there.”

Tonya put the flask away, in the secret compartment built specifically into her generator. “I don't know. The kid's smarter than you think. Maybe smarter than we both think. I can almost see the gears working; she was testing you earlier.”

“Oh?”

“You gave her a bomb collar. She put it on without question. Complied with every order you gave, didn't smack Irene around for something unpleasant she has no frame of reference for and something most of us would, and the only thing she asked you for in return were her guns. The guns that are the only thing Sasha has left of her. Not the ammo; she never asked for the ammo, just the guns. And until it was necessary for appearance's sake, you wouldn't hand them over.”

Tonya stood, offering a hand. “You failed that one, Gloom. You're seeing a witch already when you should be seeing a person who was willing to give everything to protect their friends and see a mission through. Now let's go, we have an unpleasant announcement to make; I know you hoped for one, but there isn't any way to hide what happened; it'll only make things worse.”

Gloom took the hand and stood. They walked out shoulder to shoulder.

Fall had come in with a vengeance. Most of that vengeance had been in the form of screams of pain and burning, so the reports said. I was on a train, headed to the Greek border. Riddle, the second of one of the more bloodthirsty of the four, one Suspira, had been spotted at a small town there. The town just so happened to be one of the places where train engines were still made, at a secret factory underground. So far Riddle hadn't found it yet, but she was jerking the entire populace around in one of her mazes, so it was only a matter of time before one of them cracked.

There was always one, after all, in any group.

I looked up from drumming my nails on the table in front of me... I had managed to cut them down, I didn't want them interfering with my trigger pulls, but the memory of the perfectly shaped nails was not one I could shake so easily. I still had the strawberry nail polish on them because Alicia wouldn't tell me how to remove it. I'd tried to ask Sylvie, but she hadn't said a word to me; not even a hello. Sarah just didn't see me at all. She said hello, but didn't even glance my direction when I tried to ask.

I'd find some way to get this paint off... even if it killed someone.

Speaking of Sylvie, she and the rest of Dustin's team were on the train, watching me. Diesel was off playing pool in the game car (which seemed like a dumb idea to me, I mean the train was moving) with Dustin, but Sylvie was right there, staring. The presence of Plague to my right at the bar was the only thing that kept me from going over there to ask her what her problem was. After all, I was pretty sure Plague had the remote to my collar, and well... it was Plague. I didn't want to move too much and attract her notice. Heck, I didn't dare ask her about the paint, for fear she take that as interest and start painting my face.

She'd already had her way with my clothes, I wasn't about to give her any other encouragement.

I was in plainclothes and not a Hunt uniform, but the pants were tight and hard to move in, the shirt was just small all over, and the boots went halfway up my knees. It all clashed with my hat, but I had no idea how to make the thing shrink or hide the way witches did. Or other witches did.

Because I was officially a witch; the announcement had been made while I'd been asleep. The Gloom hadn't lied at least, he'd said outright that it was because of a Wyld Hunt experiment gone wrong, and hadn't omitted his own blame. Though he hadn't thrown Emil or Merlin under the bus either. The results of the announcement were mixed.

On the one hand, some apparent sympathy had been generated; they could keep their pity. On the other hand, I'd received my fair share of 'the enemy among us' looks while gearing up and checking out for our current mission – as if they were waiting for me to snap. I couldn't really blame them for that either, but it was annoying.

It wouldn't be nearly as annoying if I actually knew how to do the things they suspected me of, oddly enough. As it was, all the stares and whispers had made me... uneasy.

“We're going to have to do something about that hat of yours when we arrive.” Plague said, idly rolling an empty shot glass across the bar.

“I'll handle it when I get in uniform.” Getting geared up was more serious now; some girls in the Hunt had been confused as witches before, and attacked while doing their duty. If I showed up in plainclothes next to a bunch of hunters, there would be talk. Such talk wouldn't be limited to whispers out here.

“Yeah, good plan. The seamstress should be done altering the uniform by the time we arrive.”

I felt a cold pit open in my gut. My danger sense was going off, with full dread. I turned to Plague and asked, as casually as I could. “You actually bought a seamstress on the train with us?”

“Of course. We can't have hunters looking bad, it reflects on all of us!”

I goggled. While she looked clean and kept, with only her wild hair betraying her, and Sylvie looked imma....immac... whatever that word was, many was the hunter that looked like a bum. In fact, bum was my favored look; it stuck out less, even when in uniform. Do it right, in fact, and you were wearing the uniform without looking like it.

Wait a minute... why did I care about having a uniform made to fit me? I could just pick up a stock one from somewhere, the main thing was the jacket anyway. And how did the seamstress know my sizes anyway? Wasn't stealing my clothes enough for Plague?

It wasn't. “Don't give me that look, us hunters on the other side of the fence have different considerations regarding image. Considerations that mean we can't just throw anything on and go in the morning. If you'd simply stayed on your side of the fence we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

Great, she was mad. I'd have to check my bed for fleas every night. And my drinks for a little extra. At least she can't rot certain things off like she threatened once. One of the worst ways to be safe, but it was still safe.

“I don't think I'll really have that problem.” Sure I wouldn't; I didn't really look all that different – and I'd only been mistaken for a witch by people who didn't know me one – dozen or so times. Not that often, really.

At least it was fewer times than Alicia had on being confused for a girl.

The only thing I really needed to worry about were my guns anyway. It would be pretty hard to mistake me for a witch with those visible. I'd also be wearing a 'generator' – which was only a case; the Hunt didn't want to risk a real generator on me, and technically it should be useless for me anyway. I could feel the connection of my guns, after all – that connection they had to my old generator still there, and something I could feel out and push my new power down.

All it took was a touch. I was fairly sure that I could shoot my biggest toys, too. Well provided they didn't break my arms; A quick glance at my chicken-boned wrists showed how likely that was. If I had any bone in my arm bigger than a pencil I would be amazed. Shooting my normal guns hadn't been an issue so far at least, so I was able to contribute.

My ammunition had been returned and I was allowed to take a few shots at dummies before we left. The recoil had been enough to give me pause, but there was nothing wrong with my aim. Well, at least against stationary targets.

The power flowed from my hands to the ammunition, converting it to the good stuff, and a full salvo from the colts barely caused a dip in the warmth I felt, the lava warming me from the inside like a liquid hug. It flowed like a trapped animal, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always pacing.

...And I was getting way too poetic. Next thing you know, I'd be writing books or something.

I could probably stuff my hat into the generator casing, next to the ammo I was keeping there (since my current clothes didn't have pockets for some stupid reason). I mean, it was armored and all, but the idea weirded me out for some reason. I needed skin contact, which meant the plan of just dropping it back down my uniform shirt and trusting my jacket to conceal it was still on.

Yeah, nothing could ever go wrong with that foolproof plan. At least I'd be able to do that with the uniform shirt; the one I had on now wouldn't even cover the full surface of the hat.

I stared out the window and watched the scenery roll by. Farmland and some gentle hills, mostly, rather dark even in the sunshine. It was kind of a regional thing or something. It made me want a drink. Then again, this whole situation seemed to signal happy hour for me.

The next thing that slid across the bar was a bottle, and it was full. A mojito, really?

Oh well, there was rum in it; that was something.

The next thing that slid down the bar was a book; an old one on police procedure and tactics? “What is this for?”

“To read, silly. You look bored. Go ahead, it won't bite you.” Plague replied.

I wasn't so sure of that; I'd seen what happened to people who read these things. It became like a drug addiction or something, and the next thing you knew you were like Emil, locked in a dark basement somewhere and cackling while you thought up your next evil plan.

“Go ahead, there are some useful tidbits for fighting witches in towns in there. Something better than the 'make a stink and hope she's arrogant and comes to you' plan you seem to favor.”

I saw no reason to reinvent the wheel. “That is what works best.”

“Only for witches with egos. Or ones that fear the hunt. When your prey is neither, what do you do?”

I turned to her, frowning, the liquor already warming, competing with the – other stuff. “I wouldn't know, it's never happened.”

“Well, that's probably true,” Plague stated with a frown, then saluted me with her bottle. “In that case, I'll tell you. You miss. Your prey goes underground and gets away. Proper investigative techniques, more than just asking random people if they've seen anything odd, can be useful. So can the combat section. If nothing else, the section on hostage takers and negotiation is worth the read.”

I drained the bottle; another slid down the bar. “You think I don't know that stuff? You really think I don't know how useful observation is, real observation? You really think I don't know how to ask questions, the right questions? If I've gotten lazy at all, it's because the prey has too. They used to actually hide; they aren't doing that now. The last witch we tracked? She was just living in a cave outside of town, and leading anyone and everyone right to her with her stupid guards! Seriously, the modern witch is stupid. Doing all that investigative crap is a job for the scouts, and they are welcome to it.”

And if I didn't find the strongest witches, the truly old, doing things my way – well, they would come to me, or I'd find out what rock they'd crawled under. I had found Olivia, after all.

“Speaking of the scouts, have you ever given thought to joining them?”

I almost dropped my new bottle. What was she on?!? The scouts were amazing, I had nothing but respect for them. But basically, they were glorified paid informants, people who tracked down the strange and unusual and called in the tips to us. Many of them didn't even travel, just settling down in order to get a feel for a place, and then calling us when a new witch came to town.

None of them fought, their shield was their invisibility; they could be anyone. Their sword was a call to us. Weapons could out them as unusual after all, get them arrested... or 'encouraged' to move on, in some places. Not even the Hunters knew who they were, and mistakes could always happen. Being a scout was gutsy in the extreme.

That said, there was no way I could see a witch and not fight. I could tell, as I met Plague's eyes, that she knew it too.

She sighed. “Right, just not in you to give up the fight, retire to some out of the way place with a hot tub and mountain view, and charge our gennys when we stop by.”

That was oddly specific and sounded more than a little wistful. And the way Plague was staring off into space was a little creepy.

Too much attention from Plague could be a very terrible thing. I opened the book to cover myself; if I appeared to be busy she would go back to spinning glasses around and leave me alone. It seemed to work, though she still stared at me.

What was really creepy was that Sylvie still hadn't said a word. As far as I could tell, she hadn't even moved. Her gaze was on the scenery outside the left of the train, but her focus was on me; I could feel it.

I didn't blame her really, if the view to the left matched my view to the right, only the things inside the train were worth looking at here.

The book was boring. Well, except for the combat section. Some of the way street to street was mentioned was very familiar. The tactics using high numbers of people were rather stupid, it was just asking a witch to notice and fireball a busy street, but they probably worked for the time.

And then I could stop torturing myself because the train was slowing. We were entering the town. What was the name of it again? Radish, radiation...Oh right, Radomsko. It didn't seem to be much, but was bigger than I expected; the sign said the population was just over twenty-six thousand. There could be more than that... but the entire place was empty. There wasn't even a dog barking in the distance to break the silence.

We slid to a stop smoothly, right in front of the station. A discarded piece of paper caught my attention briefly as the train's passing disturbed it. A newspaper from the looks of it, and it was yellow. It had taken us two days to get here, so very few should be dead. And just as important, the engine plant hadn't yet been found out, so no one had turned.

I got up, but Plague stopped me. “Uniform, Sasha, and your hat. Next car over, room 4.”

Oh, right. I took the hat of and started to the back. I wanted some fresh air and direct sunshine, but the rules said we should stay put and watch for ambush. Not that I cared about the rules, but if I couldn't be first off the train it was best to be seen following them.

It was scary how quickly I could forget about the hat. How natural it was. I found room number 4 and knocked.

“Get in here, Sasha.”

I knew that voice. Out of all the seamstresses in Central, Plague had to get her? She does good work and all and worked fast when needed, but she was a mean old biddy. I plastered a smile on; best to get this over with.

“Auntie Adeline, how are you?”

She looked the same as ever, except maybe smaller. She seemed to shrink more every year. Now she was up to my shoulder. Her wrinkles had wrinkles, but her hair was tied in bun so tight it seemed to straighten her face out. Her gnarled hands were working on a dressmaker's dummy... a female one. The lower half of the uniform was a black skirt with white pinstripes, to match the jacket.

She looked up from the sleeve she was fondling, her eyes crystal clear and intense. “Cut the shit and get over here.”

I got over there. She gave me a once over and started around. “Even more scrawny, aren't you? You need to eat more.”

Then she groped my ass. I shook her hand off and gave her my best glare. “You still have good muscle tone at least. Good to see Plague was right about the measurements. I thought she was lying to me.”

“You should have known better.” Nobody lied to auntie Adeline.

She smacked me in the arm. “Well? Strip, we don't have all day. Try it on.”

I stripped while Auntie Adeline took a cigarette out of the silver case she always carried, and lit up.

Taking the skirt off the dummy gently, I put it on first. Skirts weren't exactly my choice in uniform code; they didn't protect anything and didn't have pockets. With my old gear, my clothes would form a barrier; the generator would shunt power through them. But with the female hunters, skirts weren't exactly unpopular; how did they handle it?

“My legs are going to get shot off.”

Auntie Adeline took a drag and blew a long smoke ring. “It was short notice. Deal.”

I was a bit less gentle with the shirt. “Thank you ever so much for your concern.”

Auntie snorted. “Just don't get hit. Rely more on that ridiculous speed of yours. Or wear long socks.”

Hm, she was right, I could do that. “You don't happen to have any of those handy, do you?”

She took another drag from her cigarette. “Nope. Didn't think to pack them. Here.”

There was a sort of sleeve in the white dress shirt, set on either side of my shoulder blades. Auntie snagged my hat and folded the top of it. Even though I felt the pull, the terrible feeling of my self contracting, I kept my twitching hands to my sides and watched.

Auntie Adeline settled the sides of my hat in the sleeves, leaving plenty of space to contact my shoulder blades. She handed the shirt back, and I put it on as fast as I could. Which was a bit slower than I could normally move; Auntie watched with open curiosity.

As soon as the shirt settled I felt better and finished in no time.

I wasn't a judge of skirts, but the one I had on hugged my hips without clinging to them. The shirt fit perfectly, with just enough space to tuck in and not bind at all. Shrugging the black jacket on was a breeze, and it fit too. A glance in the full-length mirror placed off to the side confirmed the guess that with the jacket buttoned I'd look like an undertaker or something. Well, if undertakers wore skirts.

Also, the shirt seemed to do something to my figure. Or maybe it was the jacket. I unbuttoned it.

Something cloth like slapped me in the face, and I caught it. “I did have time to pack some of those.” Auntie Adeline said, starting another cigarette.

I unfolded what appeared to be gray shorts. Very small stretchy gray shorts.

Auntie Adeline took a drag from the fresh cigarette. “Don't give me that look. That's your size. Put them on so you can kick without giving everyone a free show.”

Spoken like someone who had never been in a fight to the death before. I pulled them on to shut her up and put my new boots back on, and I was done. I looked at Auntie, and she grunted.

“You'll do, I guess. Now get out of here. There are a few more uniforms just like that one, they will be in your room by the time you get back, but that's no excuse to roll in the dirt like you always do. Don't make more work for me.”

“Got it.” I was out the door before she could say anything else. That went well, really, she was downright pleasant today. She was probably in a good mood due to the suffering of others; like a vampire or ghost or demon, something like that.

I went out the nearest door, turning my face into the sun and closing my eyes. The breeze smelled fresh, and it wasn't too hot or cold. Even if it was a bit more breezy than I was used to in the leg region.

“Sasha?” Ivan asked. I turned to face him, to find him looking at my skirt.

He looked up and I shrugged when his eyes got far enough. “I had to look the part, Ivan.” Now more than ever went unsaid, but he understood it.

“But still, isn't that... impractical?”

I nodded. “Sure is, but Auntie Adeline was behind it.”

Ivan shuddered; he was even less of a fan of the old lady than I was... She liked him. And wasn't that all kinds of terror to think about? “I suppose that explains it.” He settled on, finally.

I knew how he felt. But looking past him I found a mystery. Alicia had seized up again, eyes wide, and was muttering. She hadn't bothered to find my eyes yet, her own eyes still on my clothes. Behind her, Dustin was doing much the same; I adjusted my holsters and drew.

“Alicia, am I going to have to shoot you?”

That snapped them both out of it, Alicia took a step back, hands out, even as Dustin's face hardened. “Save it for the witch Sasha.”

The or else was silent, but it was there. Dustin made it more clear, by almost raising his weapon. Which was pretty gutsy, since we both knew he wasn't fast enough. If anything, I was faster now. Whatever; I eased off and put my colt away.

“Sometimes you have to act to get Alicia's attention, Dustin. You of all people should know that.”

This scene and these people were boring. I passed Diesel on my way to meet up with Plague, and he fell into step beside me easily, without a word to break the now easy silence. The only sour note there was how he had to hold back to match my stride. We all grouped up, split up into our groups again, and walked through the empty station. It looked to have been left in a hurry; there were bags and stuff everywhere; I could almost picture the milling, screaming crowd.

The town was a maze, but not Riddle's kind of maze. It was empty, however, with the food in the market starting to rot. There was less stuff here, scattered around. Some small pools of blood. And in the town square, there were four bodies, all headless, all cut in several places and bled out. No sounds at all, except for the flies.

As senior and more powerful hunter, Plague had command. “Diesel, Ivan. Cut them down and bury them. Sasha, North. Alicia, West. Dustin, East. Sylvie get South.

We settled into the cardinal points, watching for ambush as Plague double-checked the bodies for traps. I wasn't too worried. Sure, Riddle had done as much before, but she knew that we knew it. So if she were going to spring an ambush on us, she'd have done it before now.

Burying the fallen and giving last rights went without incident. More importantly it went fast; the wonders of all our practice. Plague recited the correct prayers herself.

Then she polled us. “Thoughts?”

Well the mission was still to find the townspeople. “The most likely place for one of Riddle's mazes is Northeast; just outside of town is a huge field and farmland she can take over. She doesn't like to walk too far out of her way after all; she's lazy.”

Everyone was frowning at me now. Plague had asked for opinions, and I'd given mine first. Clearly, they didn't like that. I raised my hands and stretched; the sky was very blue and very empty. It always paid to look up.

It took a moment, but the others stopped glaring and stepped up. Ivan was first: “I know standard procedure, but it would be a bad idea to split up. If we do and find the maze, it will separate us.”

Dustin's response was immediate – and stupid. “Why? It's simple, whoever finds it you simply pop a flare and wait at the entrance for the rest of us.”

Plague answered before I could. “Because Riddle's maze can shift, and sometimes the entrance just swallows you. At least, that's what I've heard.”

I wondered who she heard that from; there weren't many to escape Riddle's mazes. None of us had met Riddle before, not even Plague. It would be interesting to see how those powers offset each other.

“Alright, everyone take a point. Stay within sight, go high, and scan for the maze.”

“Northeast,” I called and started off. No one objected, picking their own directions.

I ran to the edge of town, right where the buildings started doing that petering out thing they tended to do. I picked a bakery and entered, heading upstairs through the back with no hesitation. It was three stories, with a balcony. It was as empty as the rest of the town of course, and with luck the baker and his family – I spotted a stuffed lion and a wooden train set among the scattered stuff – would never know I was here.

The balcony was nice, if bare. There was a small rooftop garden, some vegetables, and flowers. And pretty much right where I predicted was a large maze, made of plant matter. I pulled my mini-flare gun and set it off, just as I saw a flare streak through the sky just to the north of me.

My binoculars revealed the maze was made of wheat and vines, so that was a field after all; Riddle tended to use the local plants.

Regardless of what it was made of, it would be deadly to anyone inside it.

I really didn't want to walk down the stairs. I really hadn't thought this plan through enough. I had a grapple I could use, but that would mean leaving it behind. One of the houses near this one was a two-story, and one next to it was a single story. Screw it, that was my way down.

I took a running start and all but floated over the narrow street gap, hitting the other side easily with a soft thump; the roof didn't even give. It was an angled surface but it took less than a second to adjust my balance and stop the slide. Another small run and I hit the next roof over, making even less noise; a small adjustment and I was back on the ground with none the wiser. I gauged the jumps from this angle; they weren't anything I would have hesitated at before, and not bad at all. It was nice to know my body still worked.

I might have needed a little less effort to sling myself around, but it was hard to say. The run to Plague seemed faster too. I wasn't sure why that was since I wasn't taller. Was I lighter? I wasn't smaller, so I shouldn't be lighter. But I felt lighter, somehow. I set off another flare, showing anyone coming to my last location that I was on the move to meet up with Plague.

It was probably a waste of a flare at this point, but it was standard procedure, drilled into hunter heads from childhood.

I reached Plague first; she was hanging out on top of a carriage house, of all things. Like everything else, it was silent; there were no horses. She was also farther away from the maze than I had been. I joined her on top to find her peering over the lightning rod. A good way to get hit in my opinion, but Plague was Plague.

Ivan was next, but he stayed off the roof and settled for scanning around the maze. Alicia was next, and joined Ivan silently, scanning closer to us.

Dustin, Diesel, and Sylvie showed up all at once, walking right down the road. Plague jumped down.

“Alright, are we ready? Food and water and relief bags all packed?”

“Same as a half-hour ago, Plague.” I stated as I landed easily next to her. “Let's go. Riddle already knows we're here.”

It was best to assume that, and for some reason, I was sure I was right. Well, more sure than usual.

Plague stepped in front of us and turned on her heel, back to the maze. I wasn't sure I'd do that even from this distance, but I'd keep an eye on it anyway. “Alright, it shouldn't have to be said, but I'll say it anyway. The priority here is the hostages. We save as many as we can, and killing the witch is secondary. To that end, we're all going in; if Riddle feels her escape route is open, she's more likely to take it instead of killing everyone.”

Or she'd just kill everyone on her way out; it wasn't like she couldn't do both. I guess there was some doubt about how much control she had over the mazes she set up, but even if the answer wasn't total, it was close enough. Whatever, I wasn't in charge. But killing Riddle would save many lives, so if I saw the shot, I was taking it.

Nothing jumped out at us on the walk over. I belatedly realized our contact for this mission was missing when I spotted the crude wooden smiley faced welcome sign in front of the entrance to the normal looking topiary style maze. Perhaps he'd been smart and pulled out.

Plague didn't even hesitate. I was right behind her.

A few steps in and the maze was cool and dark. The sky was still visible above the ten-foot walls, but the potential route to freedom was an illusion. Any attempt to scale the walls would be met with thorns. Very big thorns. Any attempt to use ladders or something similar would rapidly have the tools stolen by the same plants, and more thorns. The same happened if you tried to mark the walls or leave a trail; the maze absorbed it.

Riddle didn't like it when you cheated.

But Plague had to have a plan for that.

“Sasha, take point.”

That made a certain amount of sense; in here my range would be limited unless I wanted to shoot through my allies. Putting me in front to deal with enemies coming, or behind to deal with enemies trying to back-stab were the only two options.

Behind me, Plague plunged a knife into the ground, carving an arrow into the dirt; observing the formalities, I supposed. At least it was better than the spray paint attempt. I covered the front and Plague tapped me the direction she wanted me to go. We didn't speak.

It didn't take long for us to be completely lost, even with the 'always left' trick. That was pretty much to be expected. What wasn't expected was the complete lack of any efforts to kill us. For hours. The only other motion beside us was leaves in the wind.

I had resorted to bubble gum since there were no asses to kick. Dustin getting angry at my loudly popping blown bubbles was a nice bonus.

Even making noise, nothing jumped out to die.

There were birds here and there, perching on the vines. Too bad they were vultures.

It took hours to find the center, which told me Plague at least knew a little of what she was doing – or Riddle was bored and helping us.

The center was large; it had to be to hold all the townspeople we were searching for. They were huddling and gathered around a wooden stage. The wooden stage that Riddle was on, holding a blade to what could only be our informant. Behind the informant were five headless corpses, rotting in the sunlight while the vultures looked on.

Riddle was tall and very thin, with tangled brown hair that resembled her vines and some visible facial scars. She looked a bit like a model from the last century – after the drugs and a hundred miles of hard road. She was also spattered with mud and her dress was ripped in places.

“Ah, right on time, fearless hunters!” The informant opened his mouth, to yell probably, and Riddle slit his throat and kicked him off the stage in a spray of blood.

I guess her arm got tired while she waited on us.

For whatever reason, though, it was a mistake because it left me clear. I drew and opened up, putting six shots toward her center of mass before she was even completely clear of the body.

They were all blocked by suddenly rampant plant growth, erupting from the stage itself. I cracked the gun and reloaded while Riddle laughed and the others charged. The good townsfolk ran as one away from the stage but stopped short of the exits and walls.

“Let's play a game, mighty hunters!”

Riddle feinted left and dodged right, barely avoiding a javelin and a whip extended her direction.

“Escort the town back home. Succeed, and you get to keep them! Fail, and they are mine!” She floated back into the vines as our attacks converged, and vanished from sight.

So, the same game she always wanted to play, pretty much. Just with more people this time; usually she only took hunters hostage.

Usually she killed her victims outright, and we only found out later that it was her from the signs and dead vegetation she left behind.

The way we came closed itself off, of course, and grew thorns as long as my forearm. The other way out stayed open.

“Ivan, Sylvie, Alicia, Deisel, get the civilians up and moving.” Plague stated, turning her attention to the West wall as she motioned Dustin and I close. I faced East as I moved, and Dustin looked North, away from the rest of the team.

“What do you think?” Plague asked softly once we were close enough.

I replied first. “I think she's in her game mode. If she was at all serious, the hostages would have already been dead. This was something to draw hunters out.”

“She's going to play fair, at least as much as she ever plays fair. The way out was premade.” Dustin added.

Plague nodded slightly. “That's what I think too. We will have to split up, though, to cover the hostages, if we decide to play her game. She can pick us off at will then.”

“If we don't split up, we will have to leave the hostages and try to corner her.” Dustin mused.

It was highly unlikely we could corner Riddle; none had before. She could simply vanish into her maze and cover more ground, trapping us with thorns, spikes, and pits all the while. I took a look at the hostages; I could tell at a glance they had been here days, even if I hadn't known from the briefing. Gaunt and with the beginnings of illness spreading through them, they had been waiting for us. It was unlikely they would wait and sit still while we left to track Riddle, even if Riddle would leave them alone while we tried.

“Be on your guard. Sasha, you'll be point. I'll be second, and Dustin you'll be behind me. I'll go give the rest their assignments.” I stopped Plague with a hand and shoved my small bag at her.

“Food and water from the town. I just happened across the stuff. Give it to whoever you think is worst off; anyone too sick or dehydrated to keep up could kill us all.”

Plague gave me a searching look and I shrugged. I still had my own stuff; I wouldn't risk my own long term combat effectiveness.

Plague went to talk things out, while I took my position near the 'exit'. As point, it was my job to watch this direction and the portal for threats. Dustin followed me a bit – he looked like he had something on his mind. Whatever it was, he didn't speak of it before Plague came back and took up position. The townspeople were slower at it, of course.

“Range?” I asked Plague, already dreading the answer as the broken scarecrows shuffled up behind me.

“Close.” She replied, confirming what I thought. Normally the job of point required me to range far ahead of my team, but with Riddle the past encounters were clear; we stuck very close, or we got very separated.

How any of us were supposed to just keep random thorns from skewering people as they walked past I didn't really know.

As we set off, the villagers in single file behind me close enough to touch, relying solely on Riddle's mercy seemed to be the plan – and it seemed to be working.

“And who are you, young lady? Which hunter?”

I didn't see any reason not to answer. “Sasha Norre.”

“The m..marksman?” the speaker stuttered out. He was an older gentleman, large and well built, balding and all the more worse for wear after having been starved for days. I could smell traces of oil on him, not too different than my own stuff.

“That's what they call me,” I told him. One little glance back was all he got; my eyes had to be front.

“So, Plague, the Trident, and you... all for us. We are in good hands, it seems.”

I couldn't deny that; Dustin Plague and I were a lot of named firepower in one place. “The best available. It may not help with Riddle; she's going to target you and yours first I think.”

No real sense giving them false hope.

“I know,” He replied, quietly. “The mayor and the town council are back there. Supposedly the witch used their heads to mark the exits - after interrogating them of course. We don't think she got what she was after there. Plague wouldn't even let us bury them.”

I could understand his feelings but now wasn't the time. “Honestly, no time to waste on that. Riddle will leave the bodies alone and go after the living. Assuming any of us survive, you can always come back; your friends have waited a few days, they can stand to wait a few more.”

He could come back for the five in the square, and whoever else we lost. We needed to get out or kill Riddle before we died of thirst.

Plague had already gone over the plan with me. Two lefts and a right, two lefts, and a right; that way it would be easy of us to backtrack if we needed to. Sylvie was to write the turns down just in case. We would find out in a hurry if Riddle was playing this straight.

Nothing happened the first left or the second; not so much as a twitch in the vegetation. The first right, however, there were shouts behind us. I almost took that extra step; the one that would allow vines to shoot in behind me, cutting me off. They didn't so much as twitch.

Word came from up the line, whispered from one person to the next. The smith delivered the verdict to me, leaning over as if to mouth who he was crushing on. “One dead, impaled from by vines. Supposedly he stepped too close to the walls; far back of the line, but not the end of it.”

I nodded to show I understood and took the right.

A click and I was diving back; something flashed in front of me and cloth ripped.

Riddle had been busy; a blade trap had sprung up from perfectly normal looking ground, triggered by my foot on a pressure plate. The blade wobbled back and forth, glinting in the sun. The blade had missed my leg but cut a neat slit in the front of my skirt. I guess I couldn't just stroll along anymore.

I passed the word back. “Beware, traps are set in the paths.”

I'd only taken a few steps into the right-hand path when the answer came back in the form of a collapsible rod that most hunters packed in order to probe for traps, magical or otherwise. I normally didn't bother, but I took it this time, unpacked it, and started in with my best blind guy impression.

I was pretty sure a real blind guy could do it better, but the next trap didn't make it to my clothes, so it was a bonus.

The little extra focus on making my clothes do what they were supposed to do was draining. But good practice I suppose. I still wasn't too keen on risking a leg, though; sure the uniform worked for female hunters, but they had a generator powering theirs.

A whisper, and I was jumping back; I barely managed to get the smith to take that all important step back before the spiked log breezed by. It scraped my jacket but didn't damage it.

I hadn't hit a trigger or a trip line that time; I was willing to bet my life on it.

We both remained upright. “You're too solid for your own good, even after your diet. Next time I try to save our lives, have the decency to go down.”

He gave me a shaky ghost of a grin. “Sure, next time.”

I strode forward; there was no doubt that Riddle knew where we were. Where she was, was anyone's guess, but it was safe to say she knew everything going on inside the maze. Or at least, safe to assume it.

Left, left, and right. By the time I got to the second right the pole was more the size of a pencil, and I couldn't do my awesome tapping thing anymore.

I could still do the gun thing, though.

“Sasha! What in hell are you doing?” Plague yelled, storming past the civilians behind me just as I put another shot into a likely place.

I tossed her pole at her; she caught it with ease. “Checking for traps. This thing is pretty useless now.”

Why was Plague scrubbing her face? This wasn't the time for a loss of vision! She looked to the heavens and ground out: “Checking for traps. With your guns.”

“Well, yeah. All life's problems can be solved with guns.”

She crossed her arms and stared. “What about being hungry, or cold?”

Pfft, easy stuff. “Shoot something and eat it. And if you're cold, shooting a gun makes it warm up.”

“Tired and thirsty?” She asked.

“Gunfire wakes you up like nothing else can; it gets the heart racing. And thirst? Dig a well.”

“Dig a well?” Plague questioned. “With guns?”

“My guns can dig wells just fine. I've done it before; Ivan can vouch for me there.”

Plague nodded slowly. “What about love? No, you know what, never mind.”

I pulled my two empties and reloaded. Plague strode back to her place, grumbling. How dare she question my awesome philosophy of life with her petty concerns. That's right baby, you and me against the world....

“Excuse me – are you hugging your gun?” The smith asked.

“No,” I replied, holstering it.

“Oh, that's good then.” He looked a little green, had he seen something sneaking up on me?

I whirled but there was nothing. Not a single leaf out of place. I saw Plague gave the signal to move from the corner of my eye. With a shrug I complied, trying to keep the gunfire down to a minimum by shooting out the traps I knew were there. I could only do so much after all, even if the citizens were all being babies about the noise.

Another series of turns, another right, and another curve thrown at us. The pit trap was almost laughably easy to spot, which made me wary; but there really was nothing around it. No tripwires, no pressure plates, no other weird triggers; just a pit with actual spikes at the bottom and covered up by fresh vegetation that matched the walls.

That was the real trap of course. Try to jump over that pit, the vines would come alive and drag you into it and the waiting spikes.

It wasn't too far to jump across, for someone who was fit. That left quite a few of the people behind me out, even if I was fast enough to make it, so I called a stop.

This time when Plague made her way up, she was all business. “What have we got?”

I waved a hand. “Take a look. I don't like it at all.”

She took the area in, clucking her tongue after only a second. “Yes, I see what you mean. What are our options?”

I didn't have any. After all, we lacked a stone bridge, wood would be chancy, and this wasn't the sort of thing you threw a coat over. “I was kind of hoping you had some.”

“Going back. We can't risk the civilians.”

I wasn't a fan of going back.

“No Sasha put the gun away.”

“But we can just climb past the hole and....”

“No. So far it's going well. If you damage the maze, you know what will happen.”

She turned to the smith and the quiet scarecrow behind him. “Spread the word, we are going back. Tell Sylvie she is now point and to lead us back and left once, then right again. Same order after that, left left right.”

Then she turned back to me. “Just watch our butts awhile Sasha. No need to take chances here yet.”

I nodded. She was right, after all, we had a couple days at least before things went totally south.

I fell into step behind the smith and walked headfirst into a curtain of vines, with no thorns.

“So, who are you really and why are you helping them?”

I looked down to where Riddle was, laying down right on the trail coated in her own vines and liberally coated with dirt. It was a good look for her. I took a cautious step back, away from the new wall before I responded.

“Well, if you heard enough to ask with a really thrown in there, then you already know my name is Sasha.”

The dirty witch snorted at me. “Please. I may not be the most up to date, but even I know of Sasha Norre, the maniacal marksman. And while you look like a Norre, Sasha is just a guy that looks like a girl. Not a girl, and not a witch – and you honey, from this angle? It's clear you aren't a guy.”

Well, that was a little disconcerting. I shrugged at her to deflect. “Crap happened. If you want, I can prove it.”

I drew on her; guns solve every problem.

With a laugh she faded into the ground, the vines completely covering her before I could shoot more than once; she was fast. I looked up to find the vines in front of me gone, and everyone looking back at me.

Hm, how to play this... I shrugged again. “What? I thought I saw something.”

Plague hid her face again. “Damn it, Sasha....”

I looked down again to inspect the damage. One of my least powerful shots, but the crater dug by the bullet was easily something that could blow a hole in a chest... or blow the entire torso off. It was almost a grave by itself, a hole about 2 feet deep and four to five feet around. That was very odd and pushing it. Had I somehow put too much power into the rounds or something? No, too much power and the rounds would likely explode; not something I wanted to have happen while the bullets were on me.

And that was after impacting the vines Riddle used... something was clearly up.

I rushed back into place. Nope, nothing to see here, situation normal. But it did give me an idea... a brilliant idea. Something to fall back on if I had to. A slight backtrack and we were off again; I wasn't so sure Sylvie should be point, but she was trained at least.

The slight backtrack led us to another square, somehow. The maze seemed bigger on the inside. There was a small burble of creek fed water here, and our charges rushed toward it. Dustin Ivan and Sylvie got in front and did what they could.

Another point to me; I shot my arrow in the air (so to speak) and nothing blocked it.

It stopped the stampede at least; everyone turned to me, wide-eyed. Probably expecting me to be battling a witch.

“Let the Hunt check to see if the water is safe, first.”

The citizens reluctantly backed away from the small stream. Sylvie stepped up to it to do her job.

A simple test revealed so many different natural poisons laced into the water it was a surprise the stuff wasn't smoking... or actually on fire.

We gathered the civilians up in the center and huddled. Before Plague got started I made sure she understood one thing by tapping the grass below me with a foot.

“Assume she can hear anything we say. So, what's the plan?”

“I'll let you know. Daylight is fading, and I'm not sure we want to be fumbling around in the dark. See if you can spot anything questionable here, but don't get too close to the walls.”

I went off to check for traps like a good little soldier... but I wasn't fond of the idea of staying the night here. A prolonged stay meant a watch in an area where everything was all set to kill us, which meant a sleepless night. Then it meant the civilians, who had just hiked for a couple hours and who weren't in the best of shape, waiting and hopefully sleeping, but getting worse with a source of water they could hear right next to them.

Wait long enough and even a few of their dead surrounding that stream wouldn't be enough to deter them. And that's before they start seeing crap that ain't there. And after that little consideration, there was the food issue. I wasn't sharing anymore, not until I was certain we were out, and having such a stash might be hard for some starving people to understand.

Yeah, I didn't want to stay here anymore. It might be time for my idea before I had to try and fight in the dark.

Plague would never go for it, though, and neither would the rest of the hunters. Waiting until most were trying to sleep wasn't really an option, much as I wanted to. Anything I did would have an audience. I didn't really want to offer Plague a surprise, but with Riddle listening, I'd have to. Well, maybe not entirely.

I moved close, cutting off as much sight as possible while signaling I had a plan. “I have a plan.”

It was best to cover the real conversation with a fake one. I could switch back and forth and do some real planning with both, as long as Plague caught on.

I think she did. Plague closed in too, hands flashing. “Is it like your normal plans?”

Of course it was. She knew me, after all. “Nah, this one involves fewer explosions.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“I say we blast our way out using our dynamite. That stream has to come up from somewhere.” I was our dynamite, and I was suggesting going off with a short fuse.

“You do realize the stream is poisonous, right?”

“Only if you drink it, and only if you're a wimp.” Yes Plague, of course, it was going to be big.

“I don't think the stream is the right approach.”

I nodded to Ivan. He would help me confirm where.

Ivan strode up. “What's this, another one of Sasha's plans? Can I just disapprove, on general principles?”

I gestured up with my left hand and his eyebrows lifted. “You can if you're a wimp”

I had to gesture again, with both hands, before he finally did it. We'd be talking about this later, because if this was a trust issue, I'm putting on pointy boots just to kick him with.

Ivan lunged, and threw me up; I flew.

This close to the center of the clearing, the vines would take seconds to reach me if Riddle was watching, and that gave me seconds to determine where the maze was weakest. Not the true path; that would change on a whim – but the direction with the fewest walls between us and the outside. I had a good second of air time, Ivan had outdone himself.

And there it was; to the West there were only seven sets of walls between us and the outside. I hit the ground a second before the vines closed in, a rampant vaulted ceiling sealing us all in the dark. The rest of the hunt were already popping flares and scattering as the vines closed up, just in case. I hit the ground and rolled.

I oriented and drew my Eagle just as the first civilian screamed. Something made me switch to a section of wall two feet over, and I let fly, putting as much charge into the shot as I dared.

The world lit up with searing light, the blast spewing forth from my Eagle a white-hot bar in reality that lasted several seconds. When it was done I blinked my eyes clear to look.

I could see daylight; the blast had gone through every wall. It might have even kept going. The vines around the holes made were twitching, but not growing back.

Plague took charge. “Everyone, go!” She led the way to the gap as I fired again, closing my eyes this time.

When I opened them there gap was twice as wide, and might even be safe – at least if Riddle was asleep or something.

Turns out she was. By the time the civilian train left the station, the vines hadn't even begun to grow back, which was a good thing. I would have been hard pressed to look for another shot that someone wasn't in the way of, even with everyone ducking off right in an attempt to give me one.

The civilians made it through in record time, and I moved to follow when finally Riddle made her move; the last wall moved to cut me off and I lost the race.

That was just fine with me, I didn't even need to switch hands; there was no pain at all.

I snapped the Eagle up and aimed away from the previous shots when a voice, plaintive and slightly pained, hit my ears.

“Don't go just yet.”

I stopped and turned; there, embedded in the wall, was Riddle. She looked even more worse for wear than she did swimming in dirt – and people were probably going to be calling her “righty” as a new nickname. She raised her lone arm as I switched aim, profiling to make sure everyone else was out of the line of fire. There was just enough smoke to make it hard to see how well I'd done with that.

“Peace!” She yelled or tried to. It came out barely above a hoarse whisper. Her eyes were glazing over... shock?

“What do you want, witch?”

She coughed; apparently smoke got to her too. “I accept now that you are Sasha Norre. No one else save the maniacal marksman could wield weapons like those in such a way. You cannot be an impostor; so what happened to you? How are you able to channel such power? How are your guns able to stop my vines? How were you able to see my familiar?”

Only one answer to that. “The dead don't need to know the secrets of the living.”

She sighed. “I see. So it's a race then?”

I nodded.

She was fast. I was faster; she didn't win.

I walked out as the vines that had just started to grow back into place began melting; the slime they were turning into was familiar from past scenes. However, they didn't mention the smell. That was alright I guess – no one else would have to deal with it.

It took several minutes before I could fish the hat out of the mess. I handed it to Plague with a “Mission accomplished. Also, smith guy.”

“Derrick,” he answered.

Yeah, whatever. “Fine, Derrick. The water around here is probably still poisonous. I wouldn't touch any of it that wasn't sealed if I were you.”

I pointed to several of the civilians, who were even now, sneaking through the slime field in order to try the water.

“Right. Alright you lot, you heard the little lady! You want to drink, you want to eat?!? back to town, now!”

He had a good roar; I didn't know if he was actually in charge, or just yelled really loudly, but either way should work.

“You alright Sasha? Your eye is twitching.” Ivan asked. He was not amused, because if he was amused I'd have to kill him.

My eye wasn't twitching at being called a little lady. Nope, nothing like that had happened at all.

“Sasha, with me.” Plague was twisting Riddle's hat in her hands but she met my eyes.

I followed as she led the way out, along my Eagle's blast path.

It was interesting. Three shots and my wrist and arm weren't broken. The gun hadn't even kicked back. A glance showed why; the handle was empty of a magazine. When had that happened? It was loaded this morning. I knew I had been forcing my own power into the gun, but I thought it had ammo inside it at the time when it was just my own power.

“You hit her.”

“I hit her.”

“How did you know she was there?”

Great, Plague thought I was sandbagging again. “I didn't. It was a lucky guess. She stopped me when we turned around and asked me who I was. I noticed she was hanging out inside the vines, so I thought she could be inside the walls too, to listen to us.”

For all I knew she could have been listening to us by listening through the grass.

“Alright, and how did you fire the Eagle like that?”

I shrugged. “I just did. I pushed power into the gun the same way I did the bullets yesterday; I'm just glad it worked.”

Since I was my own generator now, instead of drawing a set amount of power to load into bullets, I did it all myself and managed the process myself.

“You haven't been hearing anything?”

Oh, here we go. “No, I haven't. I've no desire to gun you down just because. Dustin is Dustin, so no promises there.”

“Alright. Let's go make sure the townsfolk don't kill themselves.”

We headed back; at least I hadn't hit anything important with the shots I fired... a swath through some fields, taking the top off a hill a mile or so away, a few power line poles, but no houses as far as I could see.

“Sure.”

When we got back, most of the citizens were starting the hike – except the ones taking the heads and bodies of the fallen down to bury.

The couch was very comfortable; I didn't want to get up. I wasn't sure why I was on the couch, rather than my own bed in my own room in my own car, but I was.

"You need to get up, Sasha. It's morning, and we need to talk."

The train wasn't moving; we were probably still at the town we just liberated. I'd had to come back to the train for some booze though; the villagers had been very happy to be freed but we worried about me having a few celebratory drinks.

Bah, their crap probably tasted bad anyway; nothing compared to this brandy I'd found.

"Shut up, Gray, you rat bastard. I'm sleeping off a drunk." I groaned. Why was the bastard bothering me?

"Alright Sasha, I guess we can talk later. But you should know Plague is on her way."

"Then shut up and let me sleep more." How hard was it to understand that sleep was golden?

Exactly three minutes and twenty-four seconds of golden time later, Plague slid into the barstool nearest my couch.

"Quite a party you missed last night, Sasha."

I answered her in the most intelligent way possible. "Mbergle."

"Why did you leave?" She asked as if she didn't know. Maybe she didn't know?

"I had my own party."

Plague looked around at the empty brandy bottles. Fewer than I could have managed before, my tolerance had reset. But that was a win, it now cost less for me to get where I wanted to be when I drank. "So I see. And with my own private stash, too. You don't normally steal other people's booze unless you're angry at them, or they are named Alicia. So tell me, how did I piss you off?"

"You didn't do anything to piss me off. I just made my own party, and found this stuff. It's good."

Plague held up a bottle with a little amber liquid left in it, swished it around a bit, and then finished it off. "It should be, it's almost twice what you pay for your stash. Just one bottle of it."

A good thing I wasn't paying for it then.

Plague seemed to read my mind. "No worries there; it's no more than you deserve for yesterday. Do you know how long Riddle has been active?"

I didn't remember exactly how long, but it was a case of years.

Plague looked over. "Exactly. And you took her out in an afternoon. Made it look easy, even."

I had made it look easy, but it wasn't. Would I have been able to beat her before? Considering I'd pushed power directly into my Eagle and shot it four times, not a chance. We'd still be in the maze and cut off from all the glorious brandy.

"If you stay sane, you could turn this war we're in."

I snorted and shook my hat at her. Did it look different this morning? "I was never sane, Plague. Perhaps that's even what this thing needs."

Plague stilled. "Sasha, what is that?"

Well, now that was irritating. "It's my hat, Plague. What did you think it was?"

"Why does it have spring antennae and a visor on it?"

I looked again. In my hand was a pointy witch hat with those novelty spring antennae worked in. A visor hung off the edges at an angle to go over my eyes, in a faint but pleasant shade of light blue. The visor would retract when not in use of course, though I wasn't sure what use it had.

"No idea."

"You're not...."

"No, the only reason I want to kill you right now is you woke me up and seem absolutely determined to talk at me."

Seriously, it was a good drunk she was ruining.

She smirked. "Good. Let me know if that changes, alright? A warning is all I ask. I'll leave you to it; try and get up and ready for duty in the next hour. Also, nice pajamas."

Se left as I looked down. Ah, just small scraps of silk; I thought it felt a little cold in here. When had I undressed? Why had I undressed? Heck, how had I undressed? I doubted I could even load a gun last night.

I found my uniform; it was dirty. I had spares in my room... which wasn't in the train's bar/dining car.

The suspiciously empty train's bar, considering it was morning. Mid-morning, unless I missed my guess. The uniform was dirty, and smelled, but then again, so did I. I put it back on and tucked my hat under my arm (since with the visor, there was no way it was fitting in the pocket designed for it, and I didn't much feel like concentrating) and strode back to my room as if I owned the place.

Because of course, I owned the place. Gray followed, looking around curiously, taking the environment in.

There were spare uniforms, of course, made fresh just yesterday. And a washbasin, where I traded the water my dirt for it's clean-ness. It probably got the worst out of that trade, but it would just get thrown out anyway

I got changed; the new uniform fit as well as the old one, and stuffed the old one into my pack. Then with a sigh, I focused. The visor melted back into the hat. And the tradeoff for that was cheap - only a doubling of my headache.

I dry swallowed some aspirin as I stuffed the offending thing into its pocket. The antennae were ignorable.

Gray looked on in disapproval. "That's very bad for you. Aspirin can have side effects."

"So can massive headaches."

Silence meant he conceded the point. Wait, if my hat had changed... I opened my small wardrobe.

The witch clothes had indeed changed, to a dress of black trimmed in blue that matched the visor. A very short dress with a dark blue bodice and criss crossed in leather belts around the hips. A set of high boots which would come to about mid-calf on me and also trimmed in blue lay under the dress. There were hints of lace involved in the whole thing.

I shut the door to the wardrobe. That had been right next to my uniforms, and I hadn't noticed. When had they changed? If Auntie Adeline had come in to deliver my uniforms and seen it changed, or worse, had seen it in the process of changing, there would be questions. Questions I had no answer for; it wasn't like any of this came with an owner's manual or how to.

Well, I'd know soon enough.

Now mostly clean and more or less presentable, it was time to get breakfast.

The dining car was packed, and all evidence of my party was now missing. There were large plates of bagels and a few full carafes of coffee on the bar. I sat down next to Plague and snagged one of each.

"So what's the news?" It wouldn't be like Plague to hide unpleasant news from me. Hell, she'd probably dance to dish out something clothing related.

"We move as soon as the engineers get us topped off. Got another rumored witch to hunt, in Scandinavia. And Dustin's team has another suspected witch to hunt in France."

Again, with France. Why was it always France? "Good; we can restock your stash along the way; best to keep busy."

I saluted Dustin with my carafe. "Good hunting."

He gaped at me. "You never wish me good anything."

"Well, part of good hunting implies good riddance." Honestly, the hunt was trusting me a lot here. Only one team, even if it was my former team and they were relying on sentiment to stay my hand a critical half a second or so (something that historically was known not to happen, since witches usually killed their family first) and Plague. I probably couldn't take Plague, and I couldn't run, but they just reduced the number of people who could be carrying the detonator by almost half, after a time where I'd just proven I could kill most of the people tasked to watch me with ease.

Ivan and Alicia were good, but they weren't fast enough to dodge the Eagle.

So yeah, a lot of trust. Dustin forced me to refocus on him: "Well, try not to murder anyone to make your bread while I'm gone."

"That's giants, you idiot."

"Good point," he admitted. "But then again, you could always go reverse giant on us, or something."

Every time I saw Dustin, he got stupider. Maybe I'd make a pie out of him later, or something. "Just get out of here. Even if you're supposed to be riding with us. Just get off and walk."

Dustin staggered back, a hand to his chest. "You wound me!"

His grin was insufferable. "Don't tempt me."

Plague put her foot down. "Yeah, Dustin, don't tempt her."

Dustin got going, his team already geared and behind him. He took a bottle on his way out of course, but it was nothing I'd miss. Slyvie actually waved on her way out. She still didn't say anything, but I think that was more due to the bagel in her mouth.

They were all freshly topped off, power wise. After all, they hadn't used anything yesterday. So they should be fine. At the very least they should be able to run away.

Plague slid up and hip bumped me. "Stop worrying about your boyfriend, Sasha. He's a big boy."

I admit when I threw up my half eaten bagel I attempted to aim for her. She dodged. Luckily, Dustin hadn't heard.

"You better have brain bleach."

I considered drawing on her, but that wasn't likely to end well, so I just reached for another bagel instead.

"Uh, Sasha...." Plague was mincing around my puke.

"What? What are you even doing, there's nothing there."

She stared me down a moment - or tried to. "Alright, that's fair, I guess." She grabbed a rag.

Damn right; after all, I didn't suggest she was getting it on with Auntie or Sinister, and if she threw up as a result of me saying something like that, I'd take my lumps.

"A masterful manipulation of the situation, Sasha." Gray complimented, and I nodded. Best to let that statement go though, Plague could be touchy about compliments made at her expense, and no one wanted to see an angry Plague.

Ivan strode up to the bar, a file in his hands. "What's that? Required reading?"

"The file on the rumored witch on the block next."

Well, that was fast. How did they even get it here? The train was faster than most messages - normally we'd find the file waiting for us, or more often, just go in blind, but to have a full file? I smelled something rotten.

On the other hand, I'd only been to Scandinavia once. I'd liked it at the time; the countryside was beautiful.

"Well, you're not wrong. You guys have been bumped up as long as I'm with you, so we only go after the best targets."

I was fine with that. "So who is our victim?"

"Marcy."

One of the four, and even better, one of the four that had targeted us specifically. Tasty tasty payback was tasty. Ivan paled but nodded like the trooper he was. Alicia would probably gripe, but screw her anyway.

"Works for me," I replied, stealing some of Ivan's vodka. Really, drinking the stuff this early in the morning; pretty shameful of him.

Of course, splitting up the teams this early made even less sense now. It wasn't as if Marcy didn't have a history of hitting our trains directly or anything, and we would make a tempting target. That was probably the point, come to think of it, to look weaker. Dustin in range to reply to a distress call. Or maybe he wasn't, and we were just testing the spies in the other camp; that happened from time to time.

Plague stood up and threw the rag away. "So, it'll be a long trip, or long enough. How about we do something?"

"Like?" Ivan asked. He shifted his weight toward the door.

Plague noticed but didn't call him on it. "Like cards! With Alicia, we have four! And it doesn't even have to be poker, so we won't bilk Sasha!"

What? "Just what are you implying, Plague?"

"That you suck at poker, Sasha. No poker face at all, anyone can clean you out." Plague fired back immediately.

I did not suck at poker! I had the best nothing expression ever! "Bullshit! I'll show you!"

"Oh yeah? Well, sit on down then. I'll go find Alicia!"

"Here we go again...." Ivan muttered, slamming down another shot.

"Screw you, Ivan."

......

The Scandinavian mountains were every bit as nice as I remember. Here we were, standing on top of mount Goldwhatever, on the trail of the rumored witch who had allegedly murdered the town of Bverdalkirk or however it's spelled. It wasn't really allegedly, as the people were very dead, and the library the hunt had maintained was very burned to the ground, but it could have just been a random nut-job with a desire to burn technical works - that an armed police force couldn't handle.

I was getting all too familiar with cold weather gear. I hated cold weather gear. It was confining and made my draw slower.

Now was the point where we got to hike around this cold hell for the next two to three days before finally getting jumped by the witch and her minions and killing them. I kind of wanted to skip all that... and maybe that hint of smoke would be the just the thing I needed. Smoke was visible from a long way out here.

"Plague, look." It was still hours away.

"Hm," Plague made a show of shading her eyes... even though she had goggles on. "Looks like a little one. Not a structure fire, and not dark enough for a vehicle fire."

"That's a campfire," Ivan stated firmly.

"Yeah, that's bull is what it is. I say we start a nice fire of our own. I brought hot dogs."

"Sasha, those hot dogs were probably made with real dog. No telling for sure."

I doubted that. That back alley butcher had an honest face!

"Where would we get fuel for it?"

Trees were kind of scarce where we were, come to think of it. Most of the wood was further down, on the other side of the mountain. Right where the fire was.

"Well Alicia always carries a lot of useless junk. We could burn that."

"Hey!"

"No, Sasha. Let's just make the hike to the fire. Stop being difficult, we both don't want to be here any longer than we have to."

"It's just the principle of the thing, They are beginning to repeat themselves, and it pisses me off."

Plague patted me on the back. "I know. check your snow shoes; we're going."

My snowshoes were fine.

We walked carefully, Alicia broke the trail, and Ivan covered our backs. Plague was behind me, watching. We were all tied together, just in case; even though this mountain was nothing compared to the ones I'd scaled earlier.

The snow was new and loose; we could slide a good distance if we tried. Well, at least to the end of the tether.

"Stop trying to slide, Sasha."

People always wanted to ruin my fun.

Alicia decided to pile on. "Yeah Sasha, quit trying to pull us around."

"Alicia, when you repeat others it just makes you sound stupid."

"Poker loser says what?"

Oh, that.... "I did not lose! ....Much."

Alicia laughed. "Oh come on, Plague and Ivan both took almost a month's salary off you! The best part was the wooden face you tried to pull every time you thought you had a good hand."

"Hey, it was enough to beat you." And beat her I had; she owed me almost a full pound.

"I was too busy laughing to focus on the game," She replied loftily. "Just face it, you're too expressive Sasha. Actually, 'face it' is a good way to describe the problem!"

She had turned back to grin at me, and so missed the sudden eruption of the snow dune in front of her, sending her skidding away. I braced, but the differences in weight made the attempt hopeless; luckily the rope snapped after I ate snow, so I didn't go skidding too far.

I hated a face full of snow more than I hated cold weather gear.

I wasn't fooled by the white fur or the roar. I spat out the snow (thankfully none of it yellow). "Poly, we have got to stop meeting like this."

The yeti actually paused and scratched her head. I couldn't resist: "That is a better look for you, however."

Poly's next roar was a little deafening; some of the snow actually shifted.

The gas tipped me off, and I found myself backflipping before the first whiff. In snow. I landed on my feet and did it again, adding a handspring this time to keep me ahead of the cloud.

"Little Sasha, is that you?"

"Hello, Malodorous."

If she and Poly were here, then the chances were they had backup this time. I started looking around for it. "Another ambush? Then who's down at the fire?"

"Oh, the fire? You don't need to worry about the fire, Sasha. I'll handle them after I deal with you."

Another gas cloud moving across the route of the first ambushed me; I sucked down a little before coming out the other side, coughing a bit. My arm was steady, however, and I had her now.

The shot went straight through the gas, burning through the center of it. Malodorous performed a nice spinning dance step before face-planting in the snow. I coughed up a lung while she groaned and sat up; she wasn't built as weakly as Riddle it seemed.

Plague was on her way, sneaking up as well as one could in a snow-capped mountain to deliver a blow of her own when the expected help materialized.

"The wyld hunter known as Plague tripped over her own shoelaces, and fell in the snow."

Zinger Zoe, another underling of Malodorous, had a special knack for manipulating any field of battle, just by talking. Reality would try to match her running dialogue. She had limits, but those were hard to work past when facing numbers like this.

I popped a shot off in her direction, and to her credit, she moved... but the yeti tanked the shot. The only good news was it knocked them both off their feet, with the yeti on top of Zinger; that should shut her up for a little while. Knives sprouting from the fallen furball showed me that Ivan had finally caught up, and Alicia was beginning to stir.

Another cloud, this one not only caustic but reducing my vision, fell into place between us. I looked around; I was hemmed in.

"I am your opponent, Sasha."

"Bullshit; you're all my opponents."

This was a pretty good ambush; anywhere I went now I was eating gas.

"Let me help," Gray said.

Was he serious? "I'm not stopping you, idiot."

"Right!" Gray exclaimed, sounding all too annoyingly happy. But before he could get going something else happened.

The impact knocked me right off my feet, and half buried me in snow, but above the noise, I heard it clearly.

"Oh, so you're going to deal with me, Marcy? Is that right?" Delivered in a sweet, saccharine voice that screamed fake.

Killer Cat had entered the building.

Catherine Ponder looked like a young girl... and proved the true-ism that young girls could be the scariest things on Earth. A young concert pianist, she had a promising career at an age when I was playing with toys. Then she got a hat and a familiar... and celebrated by taking out a country almost single-handedly.

The rumor was her power was to mimic the ability of other witches somehow, but no one had seen her in action and lived. Well, no one except my mentor, once. Even other witches feared her, above all others. She wasn't even considered one of the four.

She was considered above them.

Cat hadn't been seen since well before I'd become a hunter; the Hunt had considered her retired or dead. We had hoped for dead, but I knew that voice, just as well as I knew Olivia's.

The shadow that was malodorous stopped dead in her tracks. "C-Cat? That fire was you?"

Cat actually hummed in response. "Mmm-hmm! I was all set up, camping, and making smores, so imagine my surprise when I heard someone was planning to deal with me! You're very noisy, Marcy, with all this stomping around and yelling."

Criminy, she sounded younger than me, for all that, she was three times my age. It set my teeth on edge.

But I knew where the voice was coming from, now. Visibility did not stop a true marksman.

I drew my other pistol; Malodorous got the right hand, and Cat got my left; only the best for her.

Malodorous tumbled away, but the answer from my left was immediate: "Oh, it's little Sasha. Hello little Sasha, how are you doing today? It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Oh, that sound was my teeth grinding. "It's been a decade. And I'm not little, you sawed off runt! Try growing up, you underfed midget!"

And just like that, all my guns were empty. I started reloading... then realized I didn't need to.

"Now, don't be like that Sasha; how am I supposed to know that you've grown? The last time I saw you, you were smaller than me, and I can't exactly see you now. Marcy is ruining everything; I know, hold on and hold still, I'll help!"

A blast of air cleared the clouds of gas... all of them, all at once. I shielded my face, but it didn't move me.

Cat stood revealed, in all her glory. No cold weather gear on her; she was in a dress that was at least half lace and shoes with heels. Malodorous was down, her butt in the air. Cat took the three steps needed and planted a heel on her, shoving her down.

"That's a good look for you, Marcy. Stay right there, okay? I'm going to talk to my good friend Sasha, here."

Then she turned back to me. I was already tracking her; she leaned out of my shot.

"Oh, it's been awhile since I've seen that. You were on pop guns the last time; little itty bitty things." She scrunched up her hands. This time the shot was taken in full by a large suit of armor, easily twenty feet tall, that slammed down in front of her.

"But I've got one question for you, Sasha; why are you holding back?"

What was she on? I unloaded on the armor, which had to be her familiar. The eyes glowed, anyway.

I think I scratched it.

"You see Sasha, I came here because I felt a witch. A witch as strong as Marcy here, or stronger A witch with strength not seen since your mother." She ground her heel into Marcy's back. Marcy did not complain.

"So imagine my surprise," Cat continued. "When I came and found you here." Her gaze focused on me; it was almost painful.

Another blast of wind failed to move me, but it tore my cold weather gear right off. My uniform was underneath, but it wasn't all that was. How did that dress get there? I'd left it in the train. A quick blast of cold, of falling away from myself happened before I snapped back; my hat was on my head. Gray was right behind me; he must have done it.

"Would you care to explain, Sasha?" Cat asked.

The field had gone silent; all of us were standing, not daring to move. Plague had at least three of her concoctions out, Ivan had a full spread of knives ready, and Alicia was a statue. Only the Yeti fur moved, and Zoe was silent.

"Sasha, let me help," Gray said again.

"I'm not stopping you, Gray," I told him.

Plague spoke quietly. "Sasha, who are you talking to?"

The saucer came down from the clouds, followed it's brothers. All five, because this was serious.

What was Plague's problem? "Gray. You know, small guy, gray skin, big dark eyes, a friend of mine who's been with us for days, learning the hunter trade?"

Cat smiled. "She can't see Gray, Sasha. She's never seen him."

The saucers took up a holding pattern around me, revolving around my head in a dizzying fashion. Their shields would protect me, and their lasers would sear my enemies. Their cloaking devices were like Gray's and would hide them until I needed them.

"Oh." Crap.

"Sasha, focus! It's okay, it's not a big deal!" I barely heard Plague's shout. All this time - how long? How had I not noticed?

"Come on Sasha, we knew it was likely to happen! Focus!"

Cat turned to Plague. "Be silent," she said with a smile, in that sugary voice of hers. Plague's teeth clicked together.

I took note that Plague's rot grenades were primed and ready.

Furthermore, she was right; this changed nothing. Gray was in my head, but he was mine. He hadn't blown apart any towns yet; WE hadn't blown apart any towns yet.

"So what happens now?" I asked the witch; Cat had to know how this would end by now.

"Now? Why, my dear Sasha, we talk a bit is all, and I send you on your way. After I chastise these naughty children, that is."

Her heel dug into Marcy's back again. Marcy cried out but didn't move. Cat stepped off her, a little closer; the saucers shifted their formation, and the armor held its hand out.

"Dull, what?"

The armor pointed - but not at the saucers; those were ignored. Cat squinted. "Oh ho! So that's why. It's been awhile since I've seen one of those."

Was she talking about the collar? I could see Plague out of the corner of my eye; one hand was in a pocket.

Cat smiled and curtseyed. "Well, I'm sorry, Sasha. I'm afraid we'll have to have our talk later. See you then, ta ta!"

A bright flash seared my eyeballs; I blinked my eyes clear in a second, but Cat was gone, along with the other witches.

At least all of us had our parts still attached.

"Sasha."

I turned to Plague and caught her gesture. "Oh, right. For the record, I didn't know." A thought sent the saucers away.

She sighed and slumped with a nod. "We need to talk."

The talk didn't begin until we made it back to the train - I led the way back. As soon as we boarded and shucked our cold weather clothes, Plague turned to me.

"So... Gray, huh?"

I'd kept him visible on the way back, of course. "In hindsight, the idea of a little alien following us in nothing but a scarf while we hiked up a mountain does seem a little ludicrous, I admit."

Alicia smirked. "You feeling okay Sasha? You almost sounded sane for a minute there."

"It'll pass, I'm sure," I told her and turned back to Plague. "Look, this... whatever it is. It has a way of getting inside you, that bypasses all your defenses. It's like... like he's a trusted friend or something. One I've known a long time."

Kind of like Ivan, I wanted to say, but that might be a slap in the face to Ivan. He was the last one alive who could fit that bill.

"But aren't we friends, Sasha? Allies? Bosom buddies?" Gray asked, his head cocked.

Something was wrong here. "Yeah, we are." I choked out. I couldn't deny the little critter.

"So... alien?" Plague turned to attention to Gray, most obviously not looking my direction.

"That's right, I'm an alien. The head of a small fleet of spaceships." Gray admitted.

Plague's eyes narrowed. "You have access to alien tech? Things like ray guns and force fields?"

"I do," Gray answered.

Plague turned back to me; I'd buried the evidence by now. "Sasha, your mind is weird."

It was; the current point of view was that a witch's familiar was a mental construct, part of their subconscious or Id or whatever given form. I wasn't quite ready to believe that was true.

"And now, Sasha, if you will, please unload and move your weapons."

For a friend, even a good friend, Gray was asking a lot. I wonder how well he'd stand up to my guns. "And why would I do a silly thing like that?"

"Because I have something better to give you, and I don't wish to cause you any grief by replacing and damaging your current weapons."

Well, that wasn't ominous. "What kind of replacements?"

"Weapons which will allow you to use your special skills to their fullest potential."

I moved my guns, wrapped them in cloth, and handed them over to Plague for good measure. "I'll want those back."

"Of course Sasha." Plague replied, forcing a light tone.

Beams of light occupied my holsters; I took a step back as Plague almost decapitated me. "Warning first, Gray. We're all twitchy people here."

"My apologies Sasha."

Plague was looking at my hips. "Yeah, sorry Sasha; instinct and all."

I waved her off, drawing what had appeared in my empty holster. "Think nothing of it, I'd have done the same." Even if I wouldn't have missed.

The item I'd drawn resembled a gun but wasn't one. It was shaped like one and had a trigger, but there was no cylinder or magazine, no place for bullets to go. The grips were slick and shiny, and the whole deal was silver and blue - the same sort of blue that was on my special clothes this morning. Well, and yesterday morning come to think of it.

"Why are there no bullets?"

"It is a laser pistol, and as such, it needs no bullets or ammunition of any kind. As for the power source, you are that source."

"So I simply push power into it like I have been?"

"As you have been doing all your life, yes."

Well, that was a loaded statement. I guess I had been pushing power into guns my entire life, though did it count if I was using a generator most of the time? Apparently, it did to Gray.

"What about those saucer things?" I asked, flipping the thing in my hand. It was differently balanced, but fit perfectly into my hand and went anywhere I wanted it to go. If I had a complaint it was that the grip was as slick as it looked, but even that seemed to help it as I slung it around, getting a feel for it.

"Those are our ships. They can be both offensive and defensive, being armed with a stronger version of the weapons I gave you and force fields. I deployed them to protect you earlier. They also have cloaking devices, of course, to remain hidden." Gray shot Plague a look as if to say 'see, I'm telling you everything.'

I'd seen those things - they were barely big enough for Gray to fit in. There was no way they were actual ships, let alone stronger. They had looked like toys.

"And how strong are these, exactly?" I asked.

Plague took a step back. "Sasha, no. This is not the place for that...."

I couldn't hear her over the sound of the gun firing. The completely underwhelming sound of the gun firing, as it turned out; the only thing I heard was a 'woosh' and some sort of whine backing that.

The sight, on the other hand was a bit more impressive; a bright blue light about as large as I was came from the weapon and the craggy finger at the top of the mountain I'd been aiming for through the train window was more of a stump. We could probably camp there if we wanted to. The grip warmed and caused my hand to tingle.

"Too much power, Sasha," Gray told me gravely.

Well, it wasn't at the Eagle's level, and as far as I was concerned that meant I hadn't used enough.

"Damn it, Sasha! Are you insane!?!" Plague asked with a straight face.

I just looked at her and holstered my new toy.

"Okay, you're right, stupid question. Just, don't do it again, alright? And leave the thing on your back slung."

There was more? On my back? I hadn't felt it there, but then again I guess it made sense; that's where the Eagle rested.

The thing on my back was a small tube, a bit over half a meter long and with a radius of around ten centimeters. It was slightly less in the center, and there were marks there... some kind of language or something... 'twist here'?

"Sasha, stop."

I put it back with a sigh. Rather than my holster back there, there were hooks on my belt to hold the thing.

Fine, I couldn't play, but I could still ask; I turned to Gray - did he look nervous? "Gray, what is this?"

"A pulse energy weapon. It's really quite ingenious, the weapon fires temporary shells of hard light wrapped around a core of superheated plasma and...."

"Gray. The non-egghead version." I swear, why did everyone around me want to talk about crap that didn't matter? if it worked, it worked.

"It fires a type of explosive. It is very damaging, and shouldn't be fired at anything you want to keep, or near anyone you want to keep." Gray deadpanned.

"Got it." I know he was being a smartass, but I liked the abridged version.

"Sasha."

"Yes, Alicia?"

"Please don't shoot me with that."

I snorted. "You're absolutely safe; I wouldn't waste something like this on you." The pistols or ray guns or whatever they were would do by themselves.

I couldn't be sure about Dustin though. It wasn't like I wanted to keep him or anything, and he kept following me around like a puppy no one wanted; it was sad.

We lounged back and relaxed, or I did at least. Plague still seemed uptight, watching me. I didn't really blame her. Ivan was more his usual self, knocking back a casual amount of vodka and cleaning his weapons. Alicia was glancing at me and scribbling something in a notebook, and Gray was taking up a stool, kicking his feet.

"Sasha, where is Gray now?" Plague asked.

"Next to you on the stool, staring at some beer. You can't see him?"

Gray shook his head in sync with Plague as she replied. "No, he vanished again. I'm guessing he can't stay visible that much?"

I shrugged. I had the feeling it was more that he didn't want to and if he wasn't bothering nobody I was willing to let him. At least until I got those answers he promised me.

"Right. Well, don't let him drink any beer; the last thing we need is both of you out of it."

I turned to Gray. "You heard her. None of the good stuff for you."

Gray nodded again and intoned: "You're going to negatively affect your health if you keep drinking, Sasha."

I made a point of picking up my own drink, a decent German beer from the village we'd mostly saved from Riddle, and took a long swig before replying. "Thank you for your concern, Gray."

Plague looked amused. "What? We can't hear him anymore either."

"He's trying to tell me how to live my life is all. He will learn." Everyone learned eventually.

Plague decided to get in on the action. "Yeah Gray, where ever you are, Sasha absolutely hates to be told what to do. I mean, she won't even wear the clothes I want her to wear! They would look so good on her, too. Especially the suit."

She turned to give me another once over. "Well, maybe not the suit anymore; at least not without some alteration."

I remembered that suit, and it was no great loss that I couldn't fit in the thing anymore. "I swear. I said he was right next to you, remember?"

Plague shrugged it off. I felt like a kid with an imaginary friend or something. Not that girls were allowed that little past time; if they admitted to having one, they were watched.

"So," Ivan broke in. "Do we have any new missions waiting for us, or leads?"

"Nope," was Plague's response. "Back to Central for us. Which is for the best, since any sighting of killer Cat has to be reported.

There hadn't been a sighting of killer Cat in years. What had caused her to move now? Was it really me somehow? Was I really such hot stuff somehow?

I mean sure, my guns could now smash the passive defenses of witches with no problems, and knock the tops off mountains, but that wasn't too much more than I'd been packing before, and Olivia could flatten a city inside an hour if she tried. for that matter, so could Ana. Was that it? Was it a family affair?

It was all well and good that Gray could hide; I didn't want him to get eaten. But most familiars could hide somehow, at least from other people if not other witches. Was the cloaking device Gray boasted about good enough to hide him from killer Cat?

No, something about that didn't follow. Something I should know, but didn't, and that was... well it made me boil inside.

Whatever. I'd find out when I found out. And Cat would find out how strong I was the next time we meant.

I really didn't want to go back to Central.

I settled back to nap. I could go to my room, but why drag Alicia or Plague from the bar to watch me?

......

I knew something was different the moment I stepped off the train. I was wearing my uniform, and my hat wasn't in view, but the moment I stepped off the train onto the station, it was as if everyone was looking at me - even though no one was looking at me.

No, not a single person was singling me out, just as hard as they could. Though there was the occasional staring yokel, some of whom I knew a little bit; after just enough of a look to tip me off the guy would always shuffle off muttering stuff I couldn't catch in the crowd. I was no genius, but I had a pretty good guess what it was.

One of them was the pastry guy, Martin or Mark or Marvin... something like that. Pastry guy ran a small stall where he made the pastries somehow (I thought you needed an actual oven for that, but I was wrong in this case) and anytime I saw him open I bought one, cause he was good at it and didn't spit in them or anything.

He was walking the street without his cart, saw us leave the station, and gave me the once over. Then like the rest, he shuffled off muttering. This time Alicia was close enough to hear it - and she snickered.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." That innocent look wouldn't fool anyone.

"What."

She turned and clapped one of her paws on my back. "It was nothing, Sasha. He just said he was glad you were no longer pretending, was all. That and the skirt suited you."

Her paw snagged my collar, preventing me from going after that jerk. "No Sasha, no hurting the normies, remember?"

"Fine." See if that guy got any more money from me. Though, should I punish my stomach that way? Some of his pastries were really good.

Central was right where we left it. I walked in behind Plague, who strode in arrogant enough for both of us. Sarah was on the desk as usual. She looked up at our approach and smiled - at me?

"Welcome back, Plague, Ivan, Alicia, and Sasha. How did things go?"

She actually said my name. And her smile seemed genuine. Gray hopped up on the desk and gave her a once over.

It hurt, but I was tough. I could take it.

Plague answered for us while I was a little distracted; Gray seemed intent in looking down Sarah's top. "It went well, we have one confirmed kill and the hat of one Riddle, may she rest in peace in Hell forever. Went sightseeing for a bit to celebrate and then came back to report the good news."

So that's how she wanted to play it, huh? Killer Cat being back was a big deal and should be reported as soon as possible, so hunters and scouts alike were at least warned about her. It would be better if we had a current photograph, but I hadn't been about to try that. Maybe next time. I don't know, it didn't sit well with me.

"Hey, Sarah, do you have an incident report handy?"

An incident report was a brilliant piece of paperwork you used when describing something important that happened to you that you felt the hunt needed to know, but it didn't result in the death of a witch. Nowadays it was used almost primarily in an encounter with a witch that didn't die. They were not to be confused with expense reports, where you detailed any and all collateral damage you may or may not have been responsible for in the hunt for said witch. I'd made that mistake before.

Plague caught on right off, of course. "Sasha, are you...."

Sarah actually interrupted her with a smile and forced cheer aimed in Plague's direction. "Here you go, Sasha!"

She slid the form and a pen over. Huh, was that what it sounded like from the other side of things? Plague glared silently.

And then Sarah had to ruin it. "I must say, Sasha, the skirt really suits you; you have some nice legs."

"So I'm told." I mean really, they were just legs. They were for walking and jumping, and they worked.

I filled out the report on the spot, and Sarah's eyes widened as she read it upside down while I wrote it. Maybe she was a witch herself? Such a skill seemed born from pure evil.

"Your handwriting seems to improved, Sasha." Ouch, she really knew where to hit me. I looked and couldn't really see a difference.

Maybe she was trying to distract the rest of my team from the very obvious fact that I was bucking an unspoken order.

Ivan stepped up and held his hand out. "I might as well file my own report while we're here."

Alicia stepped up and wordlessly held her hand out. Sarah smiled again and handed the papers over. Ivan and Alicia had their own pens of course because screw them. They also finished about the same time I did, because words were hard. At least there wasn't a line forming behind us this time.

"Thanks you three, I'll be sure to file these right away and type up the warning!" Sarah said, taking all our reports.

"Alright, fine. Let's just go report to the Gloom so he hears it from us first," Plague turned to Sarah. "Is he in?"

Sarah nodded. "He sure is. Would you like me to ring him up and tell him you're on the way, or would you all like to bathe and prepare first?"

She was being pretty insulting without trying to be... or was she trying to be?

"No, we better just go in. Gloom hates to be kept waiting."

That was true enough. Gloom was actually pretty easygoing most of the time, not that I'd ever admit that to anyone (least of all him) but there was one thing he loathed, and that was waiting to hear something important.

I let Plague lead the way.

There were a few people that gave us the once over on the way up, and a few hunters who fingered weapons as I passed, but for the most part I was ignored, which seemed more than a little unusual; I was a witch heading into the upper reaches of Central after all.

Plague actually knocked on the door; I didn't think she had it in her.

The muffled "Enter." came as expected.

Plague strode right in and didn't waste time. "Gloom, we have a problem."

Gloom looked up from a stack of papers that could choke a dog, his brow furrowed, and put his boots back on the floor. He looked tired, at least for him. "What is it?"

"Killer Cat."

Those two words made Gloom stiffen; his back cracked, so fast did he straighten up.

"Where?"

"She sought us out, during the second hunt you sent us on. Showed up right in front of Malodorous, just as we were going to fight."

Gloom began to pace. "Yet you're all alive - so what did she want? Why now?"

Killer Cat was one of the few to get away from Gloom; mainly because she didn't stick around for Gloom to fight. At least, that was the rumor; After having met her in person and tasted her power, I'd have given her better odds than most. No, my gut told me she wasn't afraid of any hunter alive.

"She wanted to meet the new witch. It had been some time since she met someone with that level of power, she said. She even mentioned Olivia and Ana."

And all eyes in the room were back to me. I was getting used to the attention, kind of.

The Gloom tried for humor. "Well, I'm surprised you didn't attack her, Sasha."

"I was working up to it," I admitted, watching Gray picking the lock on Gloom's corner file cabinet.

Gloom got up and crossed the room only to crouch in front of me. "Yes, I believe you were, weren't you?"

"There is more," Plague said. "Show him, Sasha."

With a sigh, I told Gray to stop using his cloaking device. He appeared, still reading the file he appropriated from the lowest drawer of the newly opened file cabinet. "I have a familiar. Gloom, meet Gray. Gray, meet Gloom. My boss."

Gray waved without even looking up. "Pleased to meet you, sir. These files make for fascinating reading."

Gloom flinched. "Pleased to meet you, Gray. Please put those files back where you found them before I'm forced to murder you."

Gray looked up, blinking his big eyes, and slid the file back in the drawer. Hopefully in the right spot; Gloom could be a stickler for such things.

"I kind of suspected as much when I saw the new hardware." Gloom admitted with a glance at my new toys.

"I've still got the old ones." Of course, I did; I hadn't forgotten which side I was on.

"How long?" Gloom asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I don't think he was around when I left, but it's hard to say when he showed up."

"After Riddle." Plague said with authority. I wasn't so sure myself.

Gloom nodded.

"Also, my team here thought it best they file the report about Cat being back before coming up here."

Gloom cursed, paused, then cursed again. "Why must you always do the right thing at the worst possible time?"

A good question. "Talent, I guess?"

Gloom sighed. "And of course Sarah was being Sarah?"

Plague nodded.

"Fine. I'll call her and have Ivan's report sent up."

What was wrong with my report?

"Alright, go clean yourselves up, you're tracking dirt on my floor."

How would he ever survive? I took the clear dismissal for what it was.

"And Sasha...."

Darn, almost out! Here it comes.

"Hide Gray again, please. No need to needlessly antagonize people."

Oh. Was that it? "Sure. You heard the man, Gray."

Gray obligingly rippled a little, I think more for my benefit than anything else. I made sure he followed me out the door too; the last thing I needed was for Gloom to notice his files floating in midair or worse.

I had something just as important to deal with though. I turned to Ivan. "Why would Gloom want your report over mine?"

Pinned down by the combined weight of both my and Gray's stares, Ivan fidgeted.

"Well, it's just that I'm known to be a little more... thorough."

"What he means to say is that 'I arrived at Calais, and kicked the witch's ass' isn't a real report," Alicia answered.

"I wasn't asking you, sasquatch."

"Sasquatch? I'll show you sasquatch, you prissy little princess!"

Plague separated us. "Seriously, stop fighting outside the Gloom's door. It's almost a given he can hear you, with how loud you're being."

Plague raised a good point. No dummy, that was Plague.

"Right, I'm out. Going to my quarters."

"Take a shower, Sasha. I'll be by later to make sure!"

Was that a threat? Who was I kidding, it was Plague. Of course, it was a threat.

"Did you know your boss the Gloom knew your mother, Sasha?"

"Not now, Gray." There would be a time to ask how he knew that, not that I was in the dark about it.

No one looked at me twice as I made my way around the upper deck through the living quarters.

And then I was safe behind my door. Gray had been following me, but he was in front of me now, already beginning to go through my stuff with the same curiosity and lack of respect he'd shown in Gloom's office. Starting with my underwear drawer; Gray was a little weird.

I started the shower; it wasn't like Gray would do anything, he was an alien. Besides, he was barely over a foot tall; I could punt him if he tried.

Gray turned around, a pair of the panties Plague had supplied me with in each hand, his face serious.

"Sasha, we need to talk."

I was really beginning to hate the phrase 'we need to talk'.

"Go ahead, Gray."

"You should sit down, first. While I check for listening devices."

I sat down on the bed. "We don't use listening devices unless you mean a cup held to the wall. Too high tech and low priority to waste resources on."

He continued searching anyway. "I know they're your friends but I'll feel better if I check."

I rolled my eyes but waited. As expected, Gray didn't find anything. Finally, he turned to face me.

"Alright, there is no easy way to say this... but humanity is under attack."

Wow, how revealing. "You think?!?"

"No, Sasha. I mean under attack by an outside enemy. My people specifically; aliens."

"You're the only alien I've seen." Really, he would have to try harder.

"Quit being obtuse, Sasha. The familiars are aliens, all of them. We come from another dimension. A long time ago by your standards, humanity was far more technologically advanced than now."

"Obtuse?" What did that mean? 

"Please, let me finish. Then you can ask whatever you want. So, technologically advanced humans - however, you were all still the same primitive and violent people you are now. So when your scientists opened a dimensional gateway into our realm, we watched. 

My leaders came to the conclusion that you were dangerous as a people; and decided to end the threat. But we couldn't just visit to share our concerns or even make war upon you. The difference in dimensions and environments were prohibitive. However, we could send... a sort of shadow of ourselves across the gate, and a small measure of the power our own dimension has in abundance. 

The plan was not to destroy your people, as mine are merciful, but to destroy your planet's infrastructure. We would anchor a shadow of ourselves to people who were... compatible, and carry out our war in that manner."

It made a twisted kind of sense. "So the first witch was born."

Gray nodded. "And humanity has been at war with itself since."

But that made no sense. Family bonds could not be torn apart so easily. "There has to be more to it."

Gray nodded again. "There is. Those deemed witches do as they do because of the alternative. We s a people may not be capable of waging war directly upon your people Sasha, but it is an easy matter to send a device through - a device capable of destroying your planet in its entirety. If the witches do not succeed in their mission to retard your technological abilities, my people have threatened to end all of humanity."

"You said the witches; you didn't include me in that."

Gray smiled. "As smart as ever, Sasha. No, I'm not proud of my people and what they have done. I wish to stop this senseless war and undo what my people have done. For that, I need your help. You and I were compatible; I have been searching for a friend like you for a long time."

Hang on, if the familiars were all one people, why were they so different? "Then why do you all look and act so different?"

"Because we aren't actually here, Sasha. I am a shadow of a self, an echo of a soul, sent here to guide what you call a witch. I am seen through a specific prism, that of the point of view, experiences, innermost thoughts and subconscious of my witch, which is to say you."

I didn't really get it. "So you're saying you're an alien because of me?"

"No, I'm an alien because I am. How I look, and to an extent how I act, are a result of how your mind perceives our link. As is the manifestation of your power. The same is true for all witches."

"So the fact that I use guns is because I like guns?"

Gray nodded.

"So Olivia likes dragons?"

"Likes or fears them; Some strong emotion."

There was no doubt that Ana loved her bear. And fire.

"But wait, what about the witch hat?" The witch hat just formed when the witch was made and contained the witch's soul.

"The physical manifestation of our link, formed by the process we use to maintain our meld with our partner. Yes, your kind is correct; it does house the soul of the witch. Such a practice is another repugnant offense perpetuated against your kind by mine."

Right, so no forgetting where I left the cursed thing. "And the clothes? The conjured stuff?"

"Formed from the subconscious desires of the witch in question."

Uh...ha ha ha, no. "Gray do me a favor?"

"Sure Sasha, what is it?"

"Don't ever say that again. To me or anyone else."

"Sure, if that is what you desire. Though I admit to some confusion as to why."

Confused was good. "Being confused is fine."

Gray widened his eyes. "You aren't going to explain, Sasha?"

I wasn't buying it. "Not this time."

"All right. I suppose I'll understand why in time."

Next question time: "So how do you plan to stop the others? What's your plan for stopping the war?"

Maybe if I tried, I could save lives.

Gray shot those hopes down. "I don't have one. Our best bet is to do what you're best at - killing witches to slow down their spread. I suspect the witches themselves have become corrupted, and their mission lost; humanity has lost too much of what they once possessed, and those you term witches were only meant to guide, not turn violent."

"But won't that get your bomb dropped on us?"

"It is possible," Gray admitted. "but I will know if my people try, and doing something is vastly superior to the slow death your people are experiencing now. But should my people try, there are steps I can take on my end to prevent such."

"Like?"

Gray turned back to my drawers, folding my clothes and putting them back.

"Like talking, Sasha. Boring stuff."

I wasn't a fan, and Gray knew it. "Chances that it'll work?"

"Well, I'm already using talk, and I'm making progress."

'Making progress' was usually bullshit speak for 'nothing will change.'

"In either case, that is my concern, partner. If you do nothing, my best estimate is human civilization will collapse inside five years. We can't just ignore the more immediate problem."

Yeah, I'd never been good at ignoring things. Not even the most important question raised before bedtime.

"Gray, what's obtuse?"

Gray turned, almost throwing a dress that I would never wear. "You mean you were serious?!? Oh, Sasha...."

Well if he was going to be a jerk about it... "Fine, never mind. I'm going to bed. Don't wander, or some gung-ho hunter will put a bullet in you."

Of course, it was likely to be me, if he survived the gauntlet of my comrades, but he didn't need to know that.

Gray picked up one of my few books. "I can amuse myself here. Good night, Sasha."

"Good night, Gray."

After a moment of settling in, something occurred to me. "Gray, does the hunt know? About any of this? Aliens and invasions and the like?"

"I'm not certain, but it isn't likely. There are some events in your species' recent history which suggests the truth, but the responses of your organization suggest to me that they still believe the witches are the real threat, and have missed the true significance of those events. It is certain the rank and file do not know."

....Right. "Okay. Good night Gray."

 

......

 

"Alright, how bad is it?" Gloom asked.

"Well, pretty bad, if you consider Killer Cat," Plague answered. "But Sasha remains committed. The familiar took awhile to show itself, but it's here now, and Sasha hasn't wavered."

"Maybe not, but we have no idea what lies the thing might be telling it. Her mother lasted weeks before succumbing, after all."

"You're going to have to trust her again sometime." Plague said.

"Maybe," Gloom repeated. "But I still want you there monitoring things, for a while yet. Just a few missions, until we can learn more."

"Of course. What I can tell you is that Cat is interested."

Gloom snorted. "I gathered that already; she's actually appeared after all."

"No, I mean think about it. This is the first time she's moved in recent years, that we can confirm, because she left witnesses. Not only did she not kill the witch she was interested in, but she left us alive; she didn't come out of hiding to fight. Or at least not fight us, not directly."

Gloom stroked his jaw, wincing at the stubble he found there. "An interesting theory. One I'm not willing to test at the moment. If she shows again, drop everything and run, and call me. She might be able to handle you or me, but she can't handle us both."

Plague poured herself a drink. "You don't even have to tell me. I'll run if she lets me. But I wouldn't be too sure about her combat strength if I were you. I felt her strength."

"She was stronger before. God only knows how she got crippled in the first place."

"I don't know - maybe I'll ask if the opportunity presents itself." Plague's smile was brittle, and the joke fell flat.

Gloom stood up and swiped Plague's drink. "Well, sounds like I need to go do some damage control. Calm the masses, stop any potential hysteria."

Plague looked at her empty hand sourly. "Good luck with that, boss-man."

"Oh no Plague, you're coming too," Gloom replied with a humorless smile of his own. "I need all the eyewitness details, and the rest of your team has already fled after dropping this bomb on my lap."

Plague sighed and gave him the finger.

 

......

 

I woke up to some disturbance downstairs. Gray was sleeping, having burrowed himself into my arms. 

He was cute, sleeping. There, I said it, and nothing bad happened.

I untangled myself from him, but he came awake the moment I stopped touching him.

"Good morning Sasha."

"Good morning Gray." It wasn't actually morning yet, I hadn't slept that long. The noise downstairs sounded vaguely like a fight, but who could be attacking us here?

"Sasha, get dressed before you go downstairs please."

Oh, right. Wait, hadn't I been dressed when I went to bed? I was in pajamas now... pajamas with little green spaceships on them. My hat had been in my hand of course and was now missing though it had to be on my person somewhere.

A touch on my head confirmed my stupid hat was there - as a hair band, complete with some sort of cloth ear. I pulled that out pretty quickly and turned to Gray.

"Your doing, I suppose?" 

How Gray had managed it without waking me was a matter of some worry. If it had been anyone else except Ivan, I would be freaking out right now. Or having a short talk at one end of a long barrel; freaking out was something the Dustin's of the world did.

"Your clothing was soiled and fragrant; how you can sleep in that state is beyond my understanding," Gray answered, and despite having no nose as I understood the term, I could actually feel him turning his up at the smell.

Right. I chose to take him seriously. "Long practice eating garbage, sleeping in low end dives or ditches by the side of the road, and eating things that would make a rat puke. So why the pajamas?"

"I didn't want you getting cold, Sasha."

That.. actually made some sense. "Fine."

I went to the dresser and grabbed some pants and a shirt. I turned around and Gray had another pair of pants and a shirt; the only difference were the colors. What was wrong with green?

"Come on Sasha; Just try mine."

"Fine." I grabbed the clothes and went into the bathroom.

Gray had snuck underwear into a shirt - whatever, I put those on too. The clothes fit and were comfortable, and they matched the hairband. Or the hairband matched the clothes; it had been a different color itself a few minutes ago.

Whatever, don't question it, Sasha.

My new guns went around my hips, and I took the time to put my old guns in pride of place. I should probably take them as backups, but I just couldn't work out where to strap them on where they wouldn't get in the way.

There was no one at my door, which actually surprised me a bit. I would have suspected a watcher.

The halls were empty; even more empty than usual. For all that the sound increased, Gray and I didn't see anyone until we hit the stairs. And then we saw everyone.

There was an honest to goodness party going on downstairs in the lobby. Tables of food were set up, tables of booze were set up across from the food, and at least a few hundred people, hunter and civilian alike, were chatting, mingling, and dancing to music I could barely make out over the roar of the crowd. There were actual sounds of merriment that didn't sound forced.

Well, not all of it anyway.

As soon as I was noticed, the sound dimmed and the music stuttered to a halt. 

Gray pushed me from behind, and it was go forward or fall. "Go ahead, Sasha."

The Gloom met me at the bottom of the stairs; I hadn't seen him from the top or seen him move. "Welcome to the party, Sasha."

Close up the party looked a little slapdash, a little thrown together at the last minute, with the brand new decorations hanging on a prayer and the food looking more like someone ran out and bought as much as possible rather than ordering it.

"What's the occasion?"

"Beating Riddle. I wanted to have something like this before, but circumstances conspired against us."

Was beating Riddle such a big deal? She was considered one of the great powers, sure, but a B-lister among them. She had managed to pull her shit in several cities and get away, but she'd never depopulated entire regions.

Huh, kind of said a lot about me there, that I had the bar set so high for major threats.

"Well, guess we can party now. No new fires to put out?"

The Gloom shook his head. "Not a single one; nothing that can't wait a day. Go ahead and relax; grab a drink, eat something tasty. Try not to shoot anything."

I smelled a rat, but he was the boss. "You're the boss. As usual, no promises, but I'll try to contain myself."

"Good," the Gloom's hand clapped down on my shoulder to stop me cold. "One last thing - is Gray here?"

"Yeah, he is."

The Gloom let up. "Good. He's invited too, but keep him invisible and keep him out of trouble."

I risked a glance to Gray; he was saluting both the Gloom and me with all seriousness.

"Will do." The Gloom didn't have to tell me that Gray would make people... twitchy. Things were bad enough as it was, though looking around there were fewer daggers in the stares I was getting.

Must be my imagination.

Oh well, priorities; I started off to the booze... and my train was promptly derailed by Ivan.

"Not on an empty stomach Sasha," He said and steered me away and toward the food. "You'll be able to drink more."

That was a good point, and I conceded it silently.

The buzz of conversation didn't stop, but it did grow in our wake. I was beginning to catch snatches of it here and there, and the tone at least wasn't 'burn the witch'. I relaxed a bit, now at least a little more sure I wouldn't turn a corner and see a stake with a bonfire set under it.

One of the tables was filled with my favorites; all of them, all at once. The table next to it was filled with food inspired from Ivan's home, and past that was some hoity-toity French food; the expensive stuff that Alicia liked.

I grabbed one of the little cheese and cracker sandwiches and took a bite; that was enough to guess what store it was from... Miles's, which was across town on eighth.

Sarah walked up and snagged a little bacon wrapped bundle; I knew of those from Bacon Barn, which was only four streets away. "Good evening, Sasha."

Hey, wait. Had she just talked to me? Just walked right up and talked to me, without me talking first or cornering her? She was smiling at me even, and it looked different.

"Hi, Sarah. Are you responsible for getting all this together?"

"Hah, no. There was too much for me to organize on my own. I did do some of it, however." Her glance upward at the decorations told me which part she had done.

She was soon joined by someone I didn't recognize; a cute brunette girl a few years younger than Sarah in a matching uniform. "Hello, Sarah! Hello, Miss Sasha, I'm Vivian, and I'm new at the office. Sarah is teaching me the ropes."

Oh, had the new recruits graduated already? How time flies. "Just Sasha, Vivian. Hello and good evening."

Vivian snagged one of my cheese and cracker sandwiches and bit into it daintily. "Oh, this is good. Cheddar from Switzerland?"

Hell if I know. I shrugged, just as another guy so new he squeaked walked up. He was in a gray uniform that still had the creases in it. "Hello Vivian, Sarah. And hello Sasha - I'm a big fan, I've wanted to meet you for some time."

"And you are?"

"Pearson, newly graduated hunter." He held out a clammy hand to shake.

I didn't want to shake; if this guy lasted a week, I'd be surprised."Pleased to meet you."

Everyone in range stopped and looked at me.

"What?"

Ivan made a show of looking around. "I don't see any of the horseman, false alarm."

"What?"

"You were polite. Not only that, but you were polite to a fellow hunter. We thought the world was ending."

"Oh, ha. Ha." I was surrounded by assholes.

Pearson looked lost. "Take a good look, this is what real hunters are like in the field."

He took a good look... then took another one. At me. Now I was fine with him doublechecking Sarah, because who wouldn't? But his eyes crawling up my form were weird.

It was almost worth a sigh when he turned to study Vivian. Almost.

The sigh caught in my throat when we started getting crowded. A bunch of other hunters new and old were closing, walling us in. If a hand strayed near a weapon here things would go very badly for someone.

But instead, it was: "About time you woke up! For a guest of honor, you sure are lazy."

"Yeah, screw you, Steve." I think I needed to wake up more; my amazing wit was less amazing.

Another: "Hey, anyone who can finally kill Riddle can sleep as long as she wants; that witch killed Armand a few months ago. I wanted the payback myself, but never could catch up to her - well done Sasha, at least one of us got her."

"You're welcome Gunther, but to be fair I wasn't thinking about any of that." Mostly I'd just been thinking about how I'd failed to catch up to her myself, and how annoying she was.

Gunther shrugged that off. "That's fair."

As if that opened the can of worms, everyone gathered pushed a little closer and started talking all at once, flashing smiles and clapping me with ready hands. A flash or two of a time a few years ago tensed me up, but I relaxed. There had been worse times than those. from those times I knew what was coming next.

"Story, story, story." And there it was, the dreaded chant.

"Get Plague to tell it," I answered; she was much better at telling these kinds of things than I was.

They just kept chanting. 

"Fine, fine. But I'm not going to tell it sober. Get out of my way and we can reconvene at the beer."

As the newer hunters started moving, Plague foiled my perfect getaway. "Don't do that; Sasha will run. Steve, you're beer slave. Bring it here, and we'll wait."

Steve walked off muttering, but the other hunters closed ranks.

I turned to Plague. "I'm going to owe you for this one."

She grinned back. "I owed you for earlier. start talking."

With no option other than talk or shoot them all (something I considered until Gray gave me the look) I talked.

The morning after, just like all morning afters in the history of the world. I didn't want to get up until my head actually split open and ended the pain. Of course there was the matter of a small alien, currently bouncing on me.

"Your stomach is very tight, Sasha. This is unexpected; it doesn't look muscular at all."

"Gray, I'm going to hold you down and throw up on you."

He stopped, mercifully. "Oh? Are you ill, Sasha?"

"Yes Gray, I'm ill. What time is it?"

"Currently seven forty-six, according to the alarm clock you recently slept through."

Was that what this was about? Was he bouncing on me because of a stupid alarm? I hadn't been able to escape the party last night until three, when most of the people forming the ring around me had passed out, leaving an opening. By then of course, I don't think the remaining upright people were too interested in me anymore; they hadn't given chase like they normally would have.

There was no hair of the dog that bit me in my room; or any other part of the dog, for that matter.

"Gray, I have a very important mission for you."

"Yes Sasha?"

"I want you to go outside this room, find the lobby, find a bottle of booze, preferably beer. Then I want you to pick it up and bring it back to me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sasha. Ethanol is poisonous to the human body, and you've had far too much of it of late. You'll end up losing those stomach muscles, among other things."

Did my imagination figment or whatever it was just sass me?!?

"Gray, you bounced on me; you owe me. Now go get me some booze."

"I refuse."

"Gray, I'm going to shoot you."

"If you desire alcohol, you should retrieve it yourself."

But I didn't want to move! Where were my guns? They were across the room, on the table near the door; I would have to get up in order to get them. I tried to grab the little bastard, but he skipped out of the way and off the bed out of sight.

A pox on everyone. A pox on all houses! Poxes for all!

I rolled over and held onto the bedpost, using it to lever myself up. My legs didn't really want to work, so I leaned there a moment, searching for my prey. My vanished prey; oh well if he was under the bed he was screwed; not even I knew all of what lurked down there.

Now steady, I headed toward my guns. If Gray thought I wouldn't blow up my bed, he was sorely mistaken.

"Underwear, Sasha."

I looked down; the demented little gremlin was below me, his outstretched hands full of cloth. Come to think of it, it was a little breezy this morning. I reached for the little jerk but only netted the panties. And of course I overbalanced and fell over.

Oh well, might as well put them on.

And Gray had vanished again. where had he gone? I checked under the bed (might as well, I was already on the floor) but came up empty. I heard my bathroom door close, and of course my guns were missing from the table. Why had they even been over there to begin with? I usually slept with my hardware, and even here the nightstand that was the usual home for my weapons was in reach of the bed.

"Gray, why are you hiding from me? Aren't you my familiar?"

"I'm not hiding from you Sasha, I am here." Gray's answer came from the bathroom of course.

I straightened up and strode over, only to find more cloth on the doorknob. A bra; it smelled clean. With a shrug, I put it on; I'd need to eventually anyway.

Gray wasn't immediately visible when I opened the door; I spent a second wondering where he could have gone before I realized the shower curtain was pulled and the shower had just turned on.

That was not something I wanted to see, at all.

"What the hell, Gray?"

He started humming, and that decided things. I pulled the curtain back with a whisk to reveal Gray, still in his pilot suit, a shower cap around his nonexistent hair, sudsing up. He turned to me and asked pointedly, "Do you mind?" Before turning away. My guns were hooked around the showerhead.

I was not getting into the shower with a figment of.. whatever like that, clothes or not, and with the way the showerhead was set, I'd have to get in to retrieve my weapons, which would then get wet and be in need of cleaning. Turning the water off would run the same risk; my guns were safer where they were for now.

"Some aspirin and water are on the counter next to your uniform; I suggest you brush your teeth as well."

So that was his game, was it? Well I'd show him, and inflict my horrid breath and scuzzy teeth upon the world! Or maybe not, since I could smell it too. Fine; I brushed my teeth first, mainly because I hated the idea of getting toothpaste on my clothes and then the Gloom finding out about it later. the aspirin came next; the water I downed them with tasted odd; it was what I expected coming from a clear stream and not Central's water tap.

I put my uniform on and there was a brush under it; the meaning there was clear. I realized as I brushed that my hat was a ribbon, and entwined in my hair; I hadn't even felt it. As I brushed my hair out around the ribbon the shower cut off and Gray stepped out, wrapped in a towel... my favorite towel.

"You look well today Sasha. Ready for duty."

The smug bastard. "Yeah, ready to kick some alien ass." I replied as I finally retrieved what I was looking for. They appeared ready for use.

"Um, shouldn't that be "Ready to kick some witch ass?" Gray asked me.

"Not just yet." I informed him, and he was gone.

I hit the front door while it was still swinging from his passage; there were boots there which I dove my feet into without dumping too much momentum; odds were there was broken glass and other sharp things lingering in the halls. "Come on Gray, it'll only hurt a little! I promise!"

His answer was surprising - and angering. "You should avoid loud utterances Sasha; your co-workers are sleeping."

He wasn't wrong; some of them were even in the halls. I'd have thought were hit last night after i went to bed, but the moans and groans told me everyone was still alive, for various definitions of the term.

I was still on thin ice; waking up some trigger happy jerk dealing with their own morning after, especially with a ribbon or hat on my head, was not a smart idea. Having someone find out that I was chasing my familiar would be disaster. Some of my fellow hunters could be downright violent and not at all reasonable.

As much as it annoyed me, I had to be quiet. That was fine, I was used to silent stalking.

Oh hey, Sarah was at the front desk, without a single hair out of place and only her cute yawns betraying last night.

She spotted me as I hit the base of the stairs, and didn't look away.

"Oh good morning Sasha! You're up early."

I winced; my head was kind of fine, but I feared for the heads of the bodies spread around the lobby. That was just a bit too loud and cheerful.

"Good morning Sarah. How are you awake?" Sure she had drank less than I and many others, but she had still been drunk enough to dance.

She smiled, and all but shouted: "Well, this morning is my shift, and some of us have to put on a professional demeanor for our customers, the citizens."

Uh, okay. "Have you had many people come in?"

"Not a one!" Sarah replied with enough false cheer to choke me. "But it's the principle of the thing, isn't it?"

"I guess so." Gray was behind Sarah's shoulder, giving me a pointed look. I'm guessing it would be a bad thing to admit I wouldn't even be awake if not for... random chance, yeah that was it.

"Well, if we get a call I'd like to put my team in for it. Or Plague's team. Or Ivan's, whoever is leading it now."

"Not Alicia's team?" Sarah asked with a sparkle in her eye.

She was joking with me, and that was amazing, but some jokes just shouldn't be made. "Hell no. I will sit in a ditch and pull the dirt up over me before the bearded lady is my boss."

Sarah's giggle was like music. "I was just kidding Sasha, and I'll put you down for a job; there isn't a long list so far. So what are you up to? I didn't expect to see you down here so soon."

Gray was wandering off toward the training rooms. Specifically the large one I'd been given permission to use the last time I was here. And what had Sarah meant by that, exactly? "Training, apparently."

"Well good luck. Try not to break too much."

I started after Gray. "I'll try but no promises; you know how it is, the janitorial staff would have nothing to do but sit around and drink without us."

That sounded like a grand idea, actually. I wonder if Gloom would let me transfer, at least for a little while.

The door to the training wing was open, and the door to my specific room was open. I entered to find Gray on top of one of the targets. I shut and locked the door behind me, and turned the 'in use' light on.

"Do you really think I need practice? I don't miss, Gray."

"Not with those, Sasha," Gray replied, pointing at my guns. "But there are other things to learn."

"We're indoors, can you even summon those things here?"

"Not those either Sasha." Gray replied.

"Well then I'm pretty sure I don't know what youre talking about."

"Science, of course." Gray explained, pointing to my head.

I pulled one of my new guns. "Not following you, and honestly not caring. I'm just too tired, and my head aches too much."

Gray cocked his head. "Are you Sasha? Are you really?"

I took stock. I was tired earlier, but I felt fine now actually, and my head was as clear as a bell's tone. "Okay, maybe not, and we will discuss how you did that later, but for now, dance!"

He danced, and my shot actually missed. "Clean living Sasha, and I thought you never missed?"

Why that little.... He danced again, and I missed again.

"Use your visor, Sasha."

Oh, right. With a thought my ribbon squiggled in my hair (and that felt all kinds of weird) and reformed into my helmet and visor; the HUD clicked on and outlined Gray as my current target; Gray danced out of the way again as my third shot went off, but the beam curled around, chasing him. He lunged and hit the ground running, weaving in between the stationary targets; the shot went through five targets before losing steam.

He was playing a dangerous game.

A second lock on was followed by a third and a a fourth, then several more. When I fired again, the small pistol fired a full dozen shots, all of which tracked Gray around the large chamber, wiping out targets along the way. Until there were no more targets, and Gray didn't have anything else to hide behind.

He looked to me, but I was already moving; That was an old trick, and one I've dealt with before. As fast as the little guy was, he couldn't catch up to me before the last 3 shots found him, and they were light of a sort, or something, so he couldn't force them to hit each other. All three shots found him, and passed through him? Without a target the shots rapidly lost cohesion and killed some wall paint.

He was gone, but I knew he wasn't dead or even hurt. Instead, he was smug. "A good effort Sasha. You should attempt to remember how that felt, so that you may use that ability again."

"What did you do?"

Gray faded back into view, holding up a small rectangular box with a button inset on it. A device of some kind, clearly. "I teleported to my spacecraft."

Teleported. "Can I do that?"

Gray nodded sagely. "Of course, but a spacecraft is the only destination as yet. I've yet to ascertain whether it is possible to build a teleportation station on this planet; current technology seems to suggest otherwise."

Yeah, right. Sure thing. "I have the feeling that you and Emil would love each other if you could talk."

Gray cocked his head again. "But we can discuss matter of science. You need only allow me to reveal myself to your colleagues."

"Yeah, let's not do that." Gray and Emil must never meet; together they would blow up the world or something. Probably something worse. "So, teach me how to do that teleportation thing."

......

Gloom came to; as always secretly happy that both he and the installation he was in charge of were in one piece. His own office immaculate as always, he took the steps to match before leaving the friendly confines of his office. There was a surprising lack of blood in the halls, and all of his hunters appeared to be breathing, which was always a plus after a celebration. Some were even beginning to rouse themselves, and before noon.

The less that was said about his own hours today the better. The paper engine that ran this place wasn't going to rubber stamp itself, after all.

Most of those in the lobby appeared to have roused themselves and moved off, likely with Sarah's gentle urging; the lobby itself was in the recovery process and almost clean, but there were still some areas best not traveled over.

"Good afternoon, Sarah." Gloom tried not to look too deeply into those lovestruck blue eyes. It was best not to dwell on such things.

"Good afternoon Gloom." Sarah replied, gazing up at im before snapping out of it and grabbing a stack of paper from under her counter. It was sizable, he noted with dismay, and clipped together."

"Today's hunter requests so far. Do you want them?" Sarah asked, her tone almost demanding he take the things.

"Yes, I'll take them." He would have to sign off on them anyway; there was no sense in sending a runner to his office later, and the fact that it made him look busy as he took this walk was a plus.

He pretended not to notice Sarah stepping out from her kiosk and putting her toes to a blissfully snoring hunter that didn't even stir; the young gentleman would be some interesting shades in an hour. Gloom shrugged; really it served him right - it was well known that Sarah had some issues with 'slackers'. it was also well known that drink was no excuse as far as she was concerned.

Someone was working, however; Gloom noticed the in use sign was flipped over training room two and only room two. Something about the number tickled his memory for a moment, those brain cells holding the memory no doubt dead to his drink of the night before... but then he had it.

He employed his key override and cracked open the door, cautiously.

His caution was rewarded; the inevitable sounds of breaking items were muffled. The expected explosions were absent, however. A glance inside was a qualified risk.

The last hunter he expected to see was inside the room, currently contorting herself into dodges most would be hard pressed to match while snapping off shots aimed at debris currently flying around the chamber at significant speed.

The shots were not truly bullets but were instead silent lances of light. Silent lances of light which would arc or in some cases loop back completely in order to hit their target. A target which without exception was the size of a dime and no larger. There were an even dozen beams of light in the air, actively hunting targets at the moment.

In her wild corkscrewing gyrations, Sasha's gaze crossed the door; her visor washed out all view of her face and eyes with it's brilliant blue glow, but it was clear she noticed the door was open when she slowed her spin to a stop. No more beams joined those already in motion and the extra targets fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Who's there?" Sasha's hands holstered her new weapons and drew away from them; slowly but just fast enough to give the illusion of nonchalance. She had been taught very well.

"It's just me, Sasha."

Gloom could see her visibly relax, but only because he knew what to look for. "Not sure if that's a good thing or not boss, I kinda made a mess in here.

A mess was a bit of an understatement; the reinforced walls ceiling and floor all bore scorch marks, there were a few new shallow dents here and there, and not a single target of either stationary or mobile variety was in one piece.

Yet at the same time, nothing of the room itself needed replacing, and the walls were all intact, after hours of use. Sasha had clearly been taking it easy in here.

Sasha leaned back, a hand ruffling her hair and her eyes widening ever so slightly; proving that she could read him as well as he could read her; he would have to work on that.

"Well it looks like you're at the limit of what you can do in here by yourself. how about I help you?"

He slowly bent down and put the clipboard down; he knew it would be safe there near the door, even in the heat of a pitched battle.

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea; I'm getting a little tired, I've been working on this for a while now. Out of curiosity, what time is it, anyway?"

"A bit after noon. How long have you been in here?"

Another tell, this one of slow burning anger. "Since about eight; that...!"

And there it was, Gloom thought. The wedge. "What that, Sasha?"

Sasha drew back, her lead foot trailing through the debris in a manner reminiscent of a child caught in a crime. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just got up early is all, and decided to practice."

That image when combined with her uniform... Gloom would have suspected magic. He decided not to make the statement. "You can trust me, Sasha."

Sasha deflated and the words came out in a rush. "It was Gray; he made me get up, and drink water. Water! I've only had a few hours of sleep!"

Gloom fought to keep the smile from his face. Whatever the demon seed had done to her, she seemed the better for it; lively almost. "See? That wasn't so hard. However, you did lie to me, so... a hunter must be ready to battle at all times. Even when a little tired."

Gloom drew his gloves on, relishing how all the blood fled Sasha's face.

Alicia was entirely too happy, flitting around without a care in the world, well past noon. She hadn't exercised, not the way I had.

"Wow Sasha, you look like hell."

I needed to sum up the pure evil of the morning in one word. What word to pick was easy.
"Gloom."

Alicia blanched. "Is he still around? Come on Sasha, don't do me dirty today."

I decided to have mercy. "He's in his office. He had his fill making my morning."

Alicia sat down at the bench beside me, and one meaty hand clapped me on the shoulder. It actually hurt a little. "Damn Sasha, that's rough. Sorry."

She rubbed my shoulder a bit more, her unibrow knit in concentration.

"What are you doing?"

"Just feeling those little chicken bones of yours. Were they always the size of toothpicks?"

Right. I was tired, but not that tired. "Ha ha. You want some training of your own?"

Alicia Gripped a bit harder for a moment as she stood up. "How about we forget all about that, and I get you a little hair of the dog that bit you?"

I stared at Gray. He stopped looking at the device he was holding, and stared back. "Get me some water too, and it's a deal."

"Water?!? What the hell? You going to take a bath right here or something?"

"I know, I know, just do it please."

Alicia stared at me a moment. "Don't get all flakey on me, Sasha."

"Fine, do it or I'll shave half your beard so you look funny."

Alicia clapped me on the shoulder again. "That's more like it! Be right back."

While Alicia did her thing, Ivan stepped down, adjusting his weapon belt; he visibly started when he saw me, and walked over.

"You look like hell Sasha."

"Yeah, getting that a lot lately. Gloom decided I needed practice."

The visible wince Ivan gave was a little gratifying; someone else knew.

"Sorry. You seen Alicia?"

"Yeah, she made it down already and decided to be nice for a change; did you wake her up or something?"

Ivan nodded. "I did, then Plague wanted to bend my ear over something. It seems I had more bounty money to pick up, and the bean counters were getting nervous that I hadn't banked it yet."

"Ah. I hate when that happens." For most hunters, they made some money, they put some into retirement savings.

I thought it was a scam; the only retired hunter was a dead one. Though if you wanted to pay for a really big funeral I guess it was useful.

I remembered the last one of those I went to.

"Here you go, Sasha. Water, a beer, and some aspirin, courtesy of Sarah."

I looked up at Alicia, who was actually smiling. "Thanks."

I took the items pills first, downed those with the water, finished the glass and threw it at Gray (who had clearly expected something and caught it) and took the bottle. It would be best to sip it slow.

Ivan raised an eyebrow as me as Alicia sat back down on the other side of the bench.

"What? I was thirsty."

"Nothing," he replied. "So, how many teams do you think are up and ready to be fielded at the moment?"

"Can't be many," I replied, scratching my chin. (Which was still annoyingly hairless - I didn't know how Alicia managed.) "I haven't seen too many people awake, let alone people I'd consider fight ready."

"You don't consider anyone fight worthy," Alicia said, clearly trying to start a fight.

I kept calm. "Not many, no. but in this case, not too many awake and upright."

"Then its very likely we'll get sent out if we're here," Ivan said.

"Yep, sure is," I agreed. I was fine with that, really. Well if I could walk more than five steps. And if my head would stop pounding.

"Yeah, let's go outside for a bit," Alicia replied with a weird look at Sarah.

Ivan stood and offered a hand. "Come on, I'll buy."

Well, I wasn't one to turn down free anything, so I let him help me up. "Buy what?"

"I don't care, you pick... as long as it isn't too expensive or a new gun or something."

What a spoilsport; you could never have too many guns.

"Works for me."

The joke was on them anyway; any assignment that was coming in would still be ours once we got back.

The sun was too bright; I had to manfully resist my temptation to use my visor or even just expand my hat and put it on. Wearing a hat here would not be a good move, even with my uniform.

"So where to?"

"The market?" Alicia suggested.

There weren't many beer stands or bars in the market and those that were there were along the edges. It was all food or clothes or stupid crap no one wanted, like hand woven baskets or dolls or crap like that. It wade me a bit curious; why did Alicia want to go there of all places?

"Sure, fine, whatever. But we're going by way of third."

Third street near the market had the best cheap dive this entire town had to offer; 'throat-cutters'. It was like that old British place, hooters, except for assassins. I liked it because we wouldn't be disturbed there; I was already getting enough attention on the street to make my trigger finger itch.

alicia rolled her eyes dramatically but conceded. "Sure, I could use a drink myself."

Maybe I'd start wearing my bum disguise more; I shouldn't be getting this much attention in Central, I was well known here. Would a disguise help or hinder that?

At least the idiots knew well enough to stay well away from us. Only I was allowed to step on Gray, and he was having a hard enough time already with that. Too curious for his own good i suppose; the lure of knowledge of how humans were seemed to be more than he could pass up.

I had to rein him in when he started rifling purses and bags while the owners were staring at us.

"Gray, stick closer and stay out of people's stuff."

I said it softly, but I was sure both Alicia and Ivan heard me. They stayed quiet about it, but it was hard to hide the change in body language. I idly wondered which one of them had my collar control, but dismissed the thought as pointless; either the button would get pressed or it wouldn't - worrying about it was a waste of time.

"So, eat yet Sasha?"

"I had some breakfast before Gloom got ahold of me. Kind of. If you count those protien bars as breakfast."

"Yeah, we don't do that," Alicia informed me, slapping her own middle. "Let's get some lunch then, before we hit that dive of yours."

"Fine." I was feeling some bread. I wasn't sure what kind of bread, but I wanted bread. Maybe garlic bread marinated in butter? With some summer sausage or bacon on the side, or even slapped in between it? But where would I get such a thing, no restaurant, food stand, or greasy dive offered that sort of thing.

No, I knew where the desire for that fare came from - a small house, set up on a hill, a forest behind it and sheep pastured to the left and right of it. A summer day with hay and dust in the air, and the smell of fresh bread tickling the nose. It chilled me just thinking of it.

"Sasha, you okay?" And just like that I was back, Alicia's words snapped me out of it.

"Sorry, was just thinking," Gray was looking up at me, head cocked and squeezing my hand. I squeezed back, then pulled my hand away before someone noticed. "I'm good with whatever."

Alicia wasn't buying it. "You sure? You looked like you had a thought there for a moment, rattling around all lonely in that empty head."

"Ha ha. Yeah, I'm fine, let's just find something at a stand somewhere."

What was that? I hadn't thought of that day in years. Why now? Was it Gray's doing somehow?

Ivan let it alone at least, but I could tell it would come up again later.

We settled on wraps from a stand; there was some choice involved, so I chose bacon and peppers. Judging from the taste, it actually was bacon, which was a welcome surprise; even in Central one had to be careful. Lunch had the added bonus of being easily transportable, which meant that by the time we had finished up, we were at my 'dive'.

Well I was finished; luckily the bouncers didn't bat an eye if you wanted to bring food in. Some even encouraged the practice for known clientele. The new blood were laughed at if they ordered something from the pitiful menu and got sick; it was almost a right of passage. Of course, hunters didn't get such treatment in any event, no matter how new.

The contrast between bright sunlight outside and shadow laden gloom left me blinking of course, as it was meant to do. I navigated easily despite the handicap and found myself at the bar; the order of tables and booths never changed in this place.

Surprisingly I was recognized right off. "Sasha! Glad to see you aren't hiding behind that silly trap disguise any longer."

The bartender, Mike, was supposedly observant. But he'd always been one of those who steadfastly insisted I was a girl in disguise. He wasn't big in the survival instinct department. Was it worth the fight? Would I get convicted if I killed him?

I surprised myself by not wanting trouble, or a return of my headache. "Yeah, you caught me. Unless I'm disguised now of course."

Mike grinned and slid over one of his specialty beers. "Nah, your voice says otherwise. You finally stopped trying to talk out of the back of your throat too. I like it, it's a nice change."

I sat, very mindful of Ivan and Alicia flanking me. "you're lucky I don't feel like it today, Mike, or you'd already be on the floor."

Mike held up his hands in surrender, and his tongue went to the gap in his teeth I'd put there last time he said something stupid. "Sorry, the sight of you in a skirt shocked me. The beer is free, alright? Just don't hit me."

Despite the words, he was still grinning like an idiot. He was really lucky today. "Fine. Just serve and go away."

He served and went away, and I was just about to relax when a pair of sim hands settled around me and gave a squeeze. Breath tickled my throat. "Long time no see, Sasha."

Natasha, which wasn't her real name, was an oddity. By all accounts she was one of the best assassins in the world. Whether that was true or not, she was one of the few who had the skills to be a hunter - yet didn't hunt. She wouldn't even kill a witch when she had the perfect opportunity, so the rumor went. I wasn't a fan.

Tall blonde and statuesque (I'd heard her described that way once, and it seemed to fit; she certainly looked like one of those fake Roman bronzes placed outside houses of ill-repute to give the place a touch of class.) She appeared to be in that ageless age, where one could not pinpoint the actual year she was born. She was always dressed in the best clothes, ate the best food, and drank the best liquor. Her accent was thick but probably fake; yet a skilled fake. I'd yet to see a single hair out of place - or see her fight, and yet all manner of nasty people stayed out of her way. Well, those same people stayed out of my way too.

Natasha didn't even look away as she eased up, she just profiled right. "Move."

Alicia moved and Natasha took her seat. "So, Sasha... you seem to have upgraded from 'trap' to one of us. Care to tell me how?"

What did traps have to do with anything? I knew how to lay some - simple snares mostly, but being one? That her statement was some kind of male insult, I was sure. She had little use for men, and the manlier the more she hated.

"Am I going to have to shoot you, Natasha? Besides, how would you know? Mike seems convinced I was like this all along."

"Simple," she replied, downing her drink, an uncut whiskey unless I missed my guess. "Those aren't forms on your chest, there is more movement in your stride, and most importantly - you smell...differently. A female scent is a thing no man can fake. So care to tell me how I find you here, smelling of a better you mixed with exotic explosives, and missing your trademark pistols in favor of something decidedly not you? I'd very much like to know."

Her finger tapped my back, so quickly I'd bet no one else saw... but there could be no doubt; it was my hat she was tapping.

What even was she, part bloodhound? Smell me? Smelled the explosives enclosed in the metal collar? Did she smell my hat too?

Whatever. If she started something, she started something. She was undoubtedly good, but an experienced hunter was better. I showed her my teeth.

"Lab accident. Blame Emil if you must."

Natasha raised a manicured eyebrow. "Quite the accident. I think I must; blame Emil that is."

Having Natasha stalk Emil was a nice image, even if she normally never did anything for free. I couldn't see where the weapon pointed at me was, but I was sure it was there. Gray stepped up behind her unseen, and pointed it out. A small derringer or spike gun controlled by a toe... installed in her heels. Natasha really had missed her calling.

Not that it would slow me down; it would have to be a very heavy shot for the new me to even notice. But it was the thought that counted.

Natasha leaned in on me again with a sigh, coincidentally aiming a heel my direction. "Such a shame... you were growing up so well; almost as beautiful as I, with such wonderful male energy. The only thing left I recognize is your anger."

"You can always get a more first hand view of my anger. Just keep draping yourself on me." Had Natasha gained weight or something? She was almost pulling me off the barstool, and that hadn't happened in years. It was deliberate I was sure, but it wouldn't affect my ability to blow her away; I'd just roll the other way and draw.

Natasha got off abruptly, but I absorbed the shift in balance. "I think not. You still have the same eyes, Sasha darling, and you are still a student of a master. Some would say THE master; I would be foolish to antagonize such, wouldn't you say?"

Now she was speaking my language; it was always nice when someone recognized my talents. "Of course I would, but I always say that."

Even the worst student of my teacher would have little issue with Natasha, for all her amazing talents. Without a generator I was confident; well, without a generator and any odd powers.

"Of course," Natasha admitted. "Well, enjoy your drink, little Sasha. My apologies for the interruption."

With the last word Natasha flat out melted into the shadows as well as any human could. It was actually difficult to pick her out as she went back to what had to be the most well hidden booth in the place. The other denizens of the place hadn't so much as moved towards it during our exchange - her throne, possibly.

She'd also done me a solid. By coming to me first, she kept the lid on other's curiosity. Even now they were watching, but watching was all they were doing. Kind of an odd thing for her to do, but then again she was always a little odd.

I was happy to finish my drink in silence though, even if Alicia was all but rolling her eyes and Ivan was sighing a lot and glaring. I'd hoped for some actual conversation, if not from my own team, then some interesting intel from the other shady types here; shady types often knew things before anyone else did, for a variety of reasons - but mainly because their lives depended on it.

Want a lead on a witch? An assassin could have it, since taking a contract in a territory a witch has set up shop could lead to contract failure and death.

But no, no one was forthcoming, when usually I'd have at least three tips by now, all carefully worded to not actually mention names or places and so avoid any witch's wrath. It was actually one of the few reasons this dive was tolerated so close to the Wyld Hunt's central office, not that we made a big deal of it. There were even similar dives sharing space with our other offices too.

Whatever. I sighed and walked out, leaving Ivan and Alicia scrambling to pay and catch up.

"What was all that back there? Usually you can't shut up if your life depended on it Alicia."

Alicia took a minute to answer. "They weren't sure what to make of us, and I didn't want to give them ideas."

"You worry too much, they weren't going to start anything." They were my kind of people, after all.

"They don't like new things, Sasha. And you dressed as you are is a new thing to them."

That... was actually true. Maybe Natasha had done me more of a solid than I knew, even if the rumors about me would probably hit the most remote corners of the earth by noon tomorrow. Oh well, it was bound to happen anyway.

And with Natasha's name behind it, the words might mean fewer complications down the road. Not that I'll ever admit such a thing.

In the market at last, and Alicia took full advantage, flitting here and there and inspecting everything with gleaming eyes. At least she wasn't giggling like Plague would.

I didn't need anything except to restock my booze, and I wouldn't do that here. I guess I could shop for some weaponry; maybe some sharp pointy things or things that go boom. You never really could have too many of either, and Central attracted some of the best weapons dealers on the planet.

Alicia was shopping for skirts, of course. She held up a lemon one and asked: "So what do you think?"

Was she directing that question at me? She was looking my way. I looked behind me, and there wasn't anyone nearby except Gray.

Huh. I guess she was. "I think it's too bright and way too small." It was true, there was no way she'd fit in that thing.

Her grin was... more than a little unhinged. "Not for me, silly. For you."

Ah, she actually was crazy. "Same answer. Something that bright will get me killed, and I doubt I could stuff myself in it."

Alicia made a show of checking the tag again while the merchant, an older woman sharing Alicia's build minus the muscle fumed in the background.

"Really? It's a three."

That sounded familiar... like a size Auntie might have mentioned, or the one marked on the back of some of the skirts Plague dumped on me. But that was a trap, and Alicia wasn't catching me in it.

"Besides it's not meant to fight in, you already have the uniform for that. It's for time off."

What? "What kind of time off is there, that my uniform isn't good enough for?"

I mean our uniforms were pretty respectable (when clean anyway) and used for everything from weddings to funerals. What would looking like a lemon be good for?

Alicia tossed the skirt on the merchant's face with a sigh. "We really have to get you civilized."

"We really don't," I told her. "I'm not some dress up doll."

"But you are as cute as one!"

Ivan stepped between us. "Alicia, can you not antagonize armed people in a crowded market, please?"

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry, Sasha."

What. Did I hear that right?

"Did you just apologize to me?" I turned to Ivan. "Did you hear that?"

Ivan elbowed my ribs. "Quit trying to antagonize armed people in a crowded market, Sasha."

I really wasn't; I was actually shocked. But whatever. I stood on my toes with my hands behind my back and sang out: "Sorry Momma Ivan, it won't happen again."

Ivan choked while Alicia laughed and muttered something that sounded like "Too real, oh my God, too real."

"Can we shop for things that actually have a use now?" Like weapons.

"Not all of us like dressing like a bum when we aren't on the clock, Sasha."

I had to admit that was a fair point. "Fair, but bums don't have to worry about looking out of place."

Bums also didn't have to worry about getting billed for 'excess damages and excessive force' until much later if at all. But hey, having two coins to rub together was overrated anyway.

"Whatever, if you need to clothes shop, I recommend the tent stand over there; just leave me out of your sick fantasies, okay?"

"Tent shop! Why, I'll have you know my figure is best described by the word 'svelte'!"

"Is that a Russian word? Because that sounds like a Russian word."

Ivan stopped looking amused. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

"Nothing at all. It just sounds like a Russian word, and its a well known fact that Russians favor larger women. Larger, hairier women."

Ivan opened his mouth... and then closed it. He opened it again. "You know, I want to argue with you, but I really can't. Svelte is French though."

"Oh great, I soiled my tongue with French words. Only another beer can fix that."

Great, now Gray was giving me the stare. I almost called him out on it - but in a crowded market that was a bad idea.

"Not a bad idea," Ivan admitted. "I think I saw a stand over there Why don't we let Alicia work the shopping bug out and quench our thirst on this hot day?"

As excuses went, it was a good one. The day wasn't even hot - but it could be. We left Alicia looking inside some shop or other; she would catch up to us when she was ready. The stand wasn't far, and while the beer wasn't great, it was wet.

"Sasha."

I leaned closer to Ivan. "What is it, Gray?"

Looking way from Ivan toward where Gray was pointing made it easier to ignore the face Ivan was giving me. It also allowed me to see that one of our own hunters was currently running as if a fiery demon were on her very impractical heels. I didn't recognize her and she had no weapon, so she was likely a secretary pressed into service as a runner. She was young, with short auburn hair lit on fire by the sun, and she was on the small side, though larger than me. Aggravatingly so.

She stopped in the center of the street and looked around with wide eyes as I pointed her out to Ivan. "Time to vanish?"

"Time to vanish." Ivan agreed.

Any runner sent to find us, had to earn the right to talk to us. If they couldn't find us, they didn't deserve to call themselves a hunter, let alone give us a job that would more than likely be annoying. I mean, any hunter had an island of calm in central no matter how busy the streets were; if she couldn't pick up on that she needed to go back to her master and beg to be retrained.

As expected she homed right in; now it was a foot race. To her credit she didn't waste time or breath on words, but broke into a sprint.

It was almost laughably slow, but it was a sprint.

I led Ivan around and up the side of a shop, using a convenient rain gutter. (Was it supposed to point right out to the middle of the street like that? I thought it was supposed to be aimed at the drains instead.)

Ivan kept up, though it seemed he was getting a little slower in his old age. He was also studiously avoiding looking up, which reminded me I wasn't wearing pants and that had to be a thing now. Just another thing to not to be spoken of ever again. Ivan and I already had plenty of those, so one more wouldn't hurt. Gray somehow got ahead of us; he was waiting for me when I pulled myself over the top.

To her credit the slow Huntress managed to find us; if she was mad that we were sitting on the roof's edge, dangling our legs in practiced nonchalance, she didn't show it.

I wasn't impressed with her cardio however; she had to gasp her message at us. I'd have to lead her a bit farther afield next time. "Sasha Norre, Ivan Naseef, you're needed back at Central for a mission."

I shrugged. "Message received, on our way."

There was no one under us, and it was the fastest way down. I slid off, and Ivan followed with a groan. Barely over a second later my feet touched down.

"No need for the theatrics, Ivan. We've taken plenty worse falls."

"It's the principle of the thing, Sasha."

There was a whump behind me followed by a short cry. Well well well, our messenger had followed us down. She hadn't stuck the landing, probably due to her ridiculous heels, but she'd tried. I moved to get her attention and pointed.

"For the record, if one wanted to find Hunter Alicia, she would be that direction, probably in the same clothing store she was in twenty minutes ago."

"Thanks," the messenger said, immediately sprinting off with just a bare hint of a limp.

Time off was overrated anyway, but Alicia would decide how much we got by how lost she got.

And now we were headed back to France. Plague wasn't with us this time, she had been sent somewhere else; Gloom hadn't told me when I asked, and I hadn't pushed.

Ivan was technically in charge now, because no one in their right mind or otherwise would give Alicia her own team. One of the two had the trigger to my lovely new fashion accessory, the bomb collar.

I wasn't going to do anything about it of course, but it was something to note. If either of them wound up dead, or even worse, became compromised, I was going to have a bad day.

So why were we headed back into France so soon? It seemed that in some nowhere village in southern France, rumors of a certain witch had spread. A certain which who used blood based rituals, according to the sites the locals had found.

With luck, it would be Suspira. While other witches used blood rites all the time, blood was her specialty. I really wanted Suspira's head on a plate. The problem is, she was another strong one, like Riddle was.

Truth told, she was probably stronger. My team would likely never have been sent after her alone before skirts became part of my uniform - not that I was bitter or anything. She had a larger body count but usually played with people less, preferring to just kill them.

It made the case that the witch the locals had found wasn't her, because they were still alive. Still, she could be playing the long game, so it warranted a strong team rather than rookies to follow up on, lucky us.

I wouldn't really care, but... France. Again.

Of course Gray was having the time of his life; his little face plastered to the train car window, drinking in the scenery while I drank a few other choice things.

I was alone in the car; Ivan had opted to grab water of all things, and walked out, muttering something about checking inventory; he was taking this leadership thing way too seriously. Alicia was somewhere - didn't know, didn't care.

The train didn't run all the way to this out of the way hole in the forest we were going to, so we would have to hike more than a few miles through cheese country. I wasn't really looking forward to it - but someone had to do it.

Maybe I'd get a chance to take an actual break after this one; I wanted one, suddenly. Well, I wanted something anyway, I wasn't sure what.

Lemonade would do for now, even if it was clean of any of my choice additives.

In front of me was a book; one that didn't even have pictures. I'd been staring at it for awhile; even if I were into books, this one would lose me after a sentence. Or make me fall asleep.

I really needed to read it though, even if all the sentences were like 'from the zen state, turn South counter clockwise, then face the North point and press your palms together.'

No joke, it actually said that. It was a book on magic, after all. I wasn't sure how to feel about not being able to make any sense of it; but it was all Greek to me.

I had gotten it from Central's library; the hunt still kept a few, to better educate us hunters. Most hunters burned such books in the field because they were a valuable resource to all witches; even mortal enemies had been known to ambush hunters who killed their rivals to get a book. Central had a rather amazing library under lock and key anyway.

This book was a suggestion. One could even say it came highly recommended; it even had some good hints on what we were likely to run into.

But all that did not change the fact that Ivan and Alicia both were elsewhere as long as it was open, and my nose was in it. I had to admit that reading was unnatural, but they were taking the revulsion a bit too far.

When I read, I learned new words. I wasn't sure what revulsion had to do with blood magic circles of protection, but I'd figure it out. It might be something I could use though, if the worst happened.

As long as I didn't get the squiggles wrong. Bad things would probably happen if I did.

"Why are you even bothering with such tripe, Sasha?" Gray asked. Somehow in my ruminations he had snuck up on me and was reading the diagram over my shoulder.

"Because it may come in handy later."

"But it's all dependent on the mind the ideas came from. If you want a circle of protection, you'll provide it yourself. The power is yours, not some foreign gods or spirits. Your abilities do not work that way."

"But other witches are, well, witches. They use stuff similar to this, and can even learn from each other."

"You are not most witches, Sasha, and all are different. You know this. Some are similar enough to share ideas, but this book? Wasn't from one similar to you. Aside from recognition, which you already have, the book is a waste of time for you."

"Well, that's all I really need to hear." I mean, I knew it, but it was good to get a second opinion.

I tossed the book in the corner. It had been something to do, but if reading it would lead to bad habits, I'd rather just sit and clean my pistols. Of course my new pistols didn't need it, being crazy magical science or whatever, and my old pistols didn't need it because they had been cleaned already, but the act of checking them over gave me something to do.

The train slowed as I was finishing up. The village of Frejas, on the coast, if I remembered my map right. A very old place. We had to go inland from here, because our target was Mont Vinaigre, a very commanding mountain that had a tiny little village on top and bad roads. It was almost predictable as another witch habitat, being tiny and remote.

Too obvious really, anyone who had been in the game long enough would realize that. But then again, witches kept falling for it, so maybe there was something to it after all? Maybe one day I'd find out.

Ivan opened the door and walked up to snag a bottle. "We're here Sasha, time to go."

I grabbed my own bottle. Hard lemonade, I wanted it and it was here. Ivan's eyebrow rose and I stood there for a moment, daring him to say anything.

He didn't, so I left to get my gear. The gear I may not really need, it Gray was to be believed. I'd still be taking it, because even if I could just fly up the mountain and fly back, my team couldn't, and they might need my stuff even if I never did. Plus I wasn't leaving my old pistols here; just like at Central, if I wasn't there they might vanish.

The things I worry about now; no one would even have dreamed of trying to take my guns before.

Maybe it was just putting boots on French soil again, maybe it was the point that I was stepping outside a train for the third time in a month, staring at a wooded path into the country, but this suddenly felt like all the times I'd done this before. I felt tired, for some reason, even though I hadn't been awake all that long really. Weary, that was the word.

It didn't matter, what I felt. I had a job to do.

It was lucky that we didn't need to go into town.

"Hey, can we stop in at the town? We can see if they have anything interesting in their shops."

The decision whether or not to shop was out of my hands. But good for all of us Ivan was closer to me than Alicia.

"Maybe when we come back; we don't need anything now, and I don't want the witch getting away."

"So the train's staying?"

"Yep," That wasn't really odd, but it did mean nothing else really important was going on. Either that or someone was pulling a string in case we needed a quick getaway.

Pulling out of a station with an angry mob on our heels had only happened once, I swear, it happens one time and no one ever lets you forget!

Okay, so maybe Twice if you counted that time in Morocco. But come on, no one ever counted Morocco.

Whatever, just let it go. A trail ahead of you, just like all the other times before, one foot in front of the other, scanning for threats.

Wait, I didn't need to just use my eyes to scan for threats. "Ivan, permission to do a thing?"

Despite the fact that we could clearly see the village behind us (it made a rather nice backdrop) no one was around. Ivan made sure and nodded.

"Sure, as long as it isn't explosive."

I worked with assholes. "Not everything I do is explosive."

My hat transformed from it's normal floppy self; Gray helped me pull the visor out of my uniform and set it.

There were no human life signs near us, only small animals. I wasn't sure what the range was, but there were no ambushes in the immediate area.

"Creepy," Alicia told me.

I was curious. "What is?"

"That... thing on your head is lighting up, and it feels warmer when you look at me. What are you doing?"

"Scanning for threats. I don't have to just use my eyes anymore. You don't need to worry, it's not hurting you."

"I wasn't worried, I trust you," Alicia told me. We both knew she was lying.

"Don't need to worry so much, this is just another case of 'whack-a-witch.'" Good old Ivan; nothing really got to him. He started off, leading the way.

"They do keep popping up lately, don't they?" I followed.

"They enjoy us slapping them down," Alicia opined.

I couldn't really argue with that, they wanted the punishment.

Fun fact, having space ships up in the sky made it even easier for Gray to spot potential danger than it did for me.

"Sasha, The village appears peaceful. There are humans milling about in it, and none appear distressed."

Or to spot nothing, in this case. "Ivan, the village seems to be fine."

"Right, that's a good thing. We have a contact in it, who can tell us what is going on."

It was the hike of an entire day to get up to just the base of the hill; sunshine and tweeting birds and rustling animals, snapping branches in their haste to get away from us. The trail was clearly marked, and we stuck to it. Our contact met us at the base of the mountain. I pulled off my hat/visor before he spotted us, and shifted it back. Gray helped me hide it again.

He was old, only a bit taller than I was, and more grizzled than anyone I had ever seen. He had a bunch of scars across his face (claw marks) and head (giving him stripes of baldness) which I could tell he wore with obvious pride. He was well into the ranks of the white haired, but his back was unbent and he was still sporting enough wiry muscle to make people half his age jealous.

And he wasn't French, that was a plus.

"Well, if it isn't Central's best team." British, and sarcastic. I could work with that.

"That would be Gloom's team, but yeah we're pretty good."

He turned to look at me. "Sasha Norre - you seem... different in person."

Jerk. "Crap happens. And you are?"

"Warren. A businessman, lately retired."

Yeah, I didn't believe that for a second. "Sasha,as you noted. That's Alicia, and that's Ivan. What do you have for us?"

This guy still believed I was in charge, or was willing to act like it, so I'd let him.

"Pleased to meet you all. What I have, is a problem. There are some caves, or catacombs, or both in some cases, beneath the mountain. They are relics of some old war or another, and the police regularly patrol them. During one of those patrols, several circles, drawn in blood, were found in a few of the chambers, along with sign of recent habitation.

The police themselves are baffled, as there have been no disappearances or even reports of strange activity, so they called me in. And I of course, called in the hunt."

So, same old crap, different day. Witches always found old ruins or catacombs or graveyards or some other out of the way place to set up shop. Or tried to take over small towns or villages in out of the way spots. They all did it, and it just got so old.

"Lead the way," Ivan told him when I didn't.

He started visibly and turned from giving me a second look. Yeah, he knew something was up. At least he wasn't trying to piss me off yet.

"This way," Warren told us, setting off on an overgrown trail, silent as a whisper.

We matched him and eased our way through the forest. He didn't talk, something I was grateful for.

Warren led us halfway around the base of the mountain along a few different deer trails before parting some cut brush to reveal a massive steel door, thick with rust. It had one of those wheel things you turned to open it, and he spun it to the left and tugged.

The door slid wide, making less sound than we did. Warren answered my raised eyebrow with a shrug, so not his doing.

Wherever we were, Warren felt safe enough to pull out a small flashlight and turn it on. A casual piece of technology; we used small torches, and following his lead we broke them out. I didn't exactly like it, but without some source of light we'd be totally blind; just past the door there was no other source but us.

I also broke out the chalk; standard procedure in dealing with potential mazes of tunnels. I spotted Alicia doing the same; there was no need for both of us to do it, and I normally did because I was the fastest to get armed. Well, that and Alicia hated chalk dust on her hands.

It wasn't that big a deal, really. She made her first mark, a stylized arrow leading in, which would hopefully show any signs of tampering, and on the opposite wall I made my own much more simple arrow.

"You know, the passages are all clearly marked," Warren commented idly, at full volume.

I answered in kind. "Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Sign posts have been tampered with before."

The signs were in German, judging from the first one, which seemed a little odd. The walls were thick gray concrete that was crumbling away from it's metal bones, and maybe had been for longer than Ivan had been alive. Certainly whatever war this place was a relic from had been a distant one. Which one I couldn't say, the Germans and French hated each other.

That had begun when people were still using sharpened sticks to fight, and witches were only legend or rumor.

Three lefts and two rights later, Warren stopped, shining his light on the first evidence we'd seen of why we were called.

It was a symbol for certain, something deliberately painted. They were even painted in blood, going by the smell. But that was where any similarity to the painting I normally saw in my job ended. This crap wasn't even anything like what I'd just read about.

For one thing, it was in French, not Latin, and while I didn't know every word, I knew enough. For another, it was painted poorly, on a wall, and the blood allowed to run. That was a really big no-no for this kind of thing. And lastly, it mentioned the "four elements" and "the God of between" when both were clearly wrong.

Ivan looked to me. "What do you think?"

"What do you think?" I returned.

"Looks bogus to me," Alicia told us, unasked. "Something like this would be worse than useless against a witch or familiar."

"I see," Warren said. Probably more to say anything at all. I kind of hated people who did that sort of thing.

"Yep, this thing is pretty much bad, or whoever painted it is dead somewhere. There is no way Suspira made this."

Warren paled. "Suspira?"

So he wasn't told. Oh well, operational security wasn't something I really cared about. "Suspira was listed as the likely suspect for this. I no longer think it likely."

"Well, there is more. It could be a new witch, just coming into her own."

"It could be," I replied as neutrally as possible. After all, I had some pretty good insight into the mind of a freshly minted witch. Far more than I was happy with, and this seemed nothing like any of it. "lead on, McDuff."

Warren gave me a stare before shrugging and moving on. What was his problem?

Another left, another right, and a gentle curve right and down led us to a large room, empty of everything but trash. Remains of old food containers, old boxes, and old bones sat side by side in the corners, while crudely made tables lined the center - inside a series of circles that were painted at least a bit more neatly than the first we saw.

Also in French, the same words and markings for the most part, designed to ward off nothing, or to protect nothing. Gray rushed ahead, collected some of the blood in a little tube and inserted that in some kind of machine.

"It's deer blood, Sasha."

Well, that pretty much ruled out witch, even a young one. Any real witch would use human blood, even if it was their own.

I made a point of inspected one circle closely. "This blood doesn't even look human. No witch made this."

"How can you tell, in this light?" Warren asked.

"Practice," I told him to cover my tracks. Everyone expected a hunter to be able to do things like this, and it occasionally came in handy to fake it. Not that they were wrong or anything, we were all pretty bad-ass.

Ivan and Alicia probably suspected the truth at least, but Warren was totally fooled.

"If not a witch, then who?"

"I don't know, but it's way too messy to do anything. If someone tried to use this, you'd have found the body. All I see here are deer and rodent bones, brushed off into the corners, which point to a likely source for the blood. Then there's the deer skull mounted in a place of honor on that northern wall. If it were a witch, that skull would be human; they don't usually off wildlife."

"Who then?" Warren asked, right on cue. "This is too fresh to be an old haunt for someone."

"Right, this has been painted over a few times, the last time was maybe weeks ago," I turned to Ivan. "What do you think, our turn again?"

Ivan nodded. There was always a group a year, usually stupid idiot kids that had nothing better to do and no one capable of teaching them anything. So they would form a group of witch groupies, hold seances and do other half-baked occult crap, and basically act like jackasses until they either got our attention - or the attention of an actual witch.

Usually in either case, such a discovery ended in blood and tears. We took a dim view of the phrase 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.'

Alicia sighed, her breath a breeze to make her beard wave. "Didn't we do it last time?"

"Nah, that was Jenkins, last year, in Austria. We dealt wit it two years ago now, in Spain."

Two years already? Where had the time gone?

"Is someone willing to let me in on the joke?" Warren asked, not quite glaring at me. Clearly he wanted me to do it.

"Every year or so, somewhere around the world, a group of idiots crops up. They aren't an actual group or anything, there's no structure and they don't know each other, but usually a group of idiots falls to the 'evil is so amazing, let's side with it' lure, you know, like some British do with vampires."

"Dear God, really?" Warren's surprise was pretty much the response everyone had when told that little gem.

"Really. The hunt doesn't really say anything because the one time you find something like this and expect morons, you'll get a witch, but it does happen. The culprits here are probably in your village. If we're lucky, they're just kids, but stupid adults exist too. The group we got ahold of in Spain were actual cultists, worshipping witches as gods."

I hadn't liked them much - and come to think of it, they hadn't liked me either. There was some irony in that.

"Well, that's a bit of a pisser."

I couldn't agree more. "Yeah. So, let's go find your gaggle of idiots."

"Wait, shouldn't we explore a bit more? Just in case this is all some witch, trying to pull fast one?"

I fought to keep my eyes from narrowing. And after I'd just explained to him that Central had kept such things under wraps, too. It was like he was waving a flag or something.

"Fine, let's search a bit more. It can't really hurt."

Warren led us around by the nose a bit longer, but of course the only thing we saw was more of the same.

The last straw was Warren trying to point out the same exact badly copied circle on a wall next to an old shattered cannon as the first one as evidence again.

"Nope, no witches here man, we've seen the whole place, or enough as makes no difference. So, about that town."

Warren sighed loudly enough to scare off the rats. "Right, fine. I was hoping you were wrong. Knowing that our kids - that my daughter could be - doing something like this is... well, I've had more fun days."

Good recovery. I might even believe it, at least for now. Warren started leading us back the way we came.

"So, is there a tunnel that leads further up, into town?"

"No, the entrance I led you too is the closest."

That sounded like more bs to me, but again, I let him. It was Ivan's call now, not mine.

We were led out with a good view of all our arrows, none of which had been tampered with. Back outside, the gentle climb became steep, and in some cases almost straight up. There was no trail or road here.

There was a wall, once we hit the village limits. A small wall, about as tall as I was, made of uneven stone piled up and glued together with some kind of mortar or cement. We worked our way around to the back entrance, which faced an almost sheer cliff. There was a trail, but it would be very hard for someone attacking the place to use it. Down was easier than up.

The village itself was like most we saw in our line of work; another postcard village with amazing scenery and very old houses that were always too small and drafty when you actually blew all of your money to come and got to see the inside of them. Another poor place that passed itself off as something more than it was.

The graveyard was much bigger than you'd expect for a village this size, even one as old as this one.

People were rushing around, enjoying the crisp cold air and sunshine, doing their random thing... which seemed to involve a lot of weaving wool. There wasn't even a single visible sheep.

We were met at the gate by a bent backed old man in a nice long coat. Next to him was a very proud member of the french wannabe hunter squad, all spit and polish on brass and gold. Neither were armed, and neither looked happy to see us stroll up.

"Good afternoon, noble Hunters," The old man said, bowing low. "I am Tollini, mayor of this village. I hope the day finds you well."

I hung back and let Ivan take the lead. "It does, honored elder, though our recent visit to your catacombs has burdened our hearts."

Ivan knew how to lay it on thick - but in this case it seemed to work; these two were lapping it up.

"How so? Does a foul witch plague us?"

No witch was going to plague the gathering or weaving of wool. It would be pointless to tell them that, however.

"No, the calamity which befalls you is far more insidious than a mere witch. It is a witch-cult. Those who would be servitors of a witch bound together in unholy acts done in their names."

I found myself mouthing the words behind a hand. 'The calamity which befall you'? What the heck?

The wannabe hunter sighed and slumped, while the old guy looked more concerned if anything.

"A witch-cult? But we've no missing, no dead."

Yeah, no more flowery speech. "It is our belief they are kids, led by kids. The circles investigated are drawn crudely in animal blood, and so far no infernal powers have been drawn upon. It might be that the cult itself is harmless, however there is always a chance that any such delvings could draw the wrong kind of attention. It's best for that reason to root out such things as soon as possible."

The french hunter was looking at me in a way I did not like; there were faint stirrings of recognition in it as his eyes flicked from my face to my chest to my guns and back again. I was pretty sure I hadn't seen him before.

The old guy mulled it over. "But how? I will not condone the hurting of my people; they have done nothing wrong."

Wow, for an old guy, this one was pretty innocent. If all the people here were like this, there could be a hundred witches here and none would be the wiser. The three of us that knew better shared a look.

"Well, one of the oldest of all hunter tricks could help us here," Alicia stated. "Startling the quail, so that one may see them."

"What do you need us to do?"

No hesitation at all. So innocent, so trusting.

"Call your village together. You have a square?"

The old guy nodded.

"Call everyone into it. Spare none, not even the infirm. We will help you if you wish." There was no way he would take us up on that offer, it was plain to all of us.

"And then...."

"We'll take over," Ivan told him. "Announce us as the hunt once all are assembled, and then do your best to look defeated. Follow our lead."

"It shall be done." The old guy announced, and turned back to his people.

Speaking of his people, the wary stares had already started. I moved a bit outside the gate, right past the ever curious Gray. As hoped, he got the message and followed me.

"Gray, can you use your scanner thing and help us out with this? Point out who is lying, and who isn't?"

I whispered just in case there were open ears about, but he heard me clearly.

"Of course, Sasha. You could do the same, with your visor. Measuring galvanic skin response, vision, and blink patterns is trivial."

"Maybe so, but I can't do it without being seen. You can. So I'm counting on you to catch anyone we miss, alright?"

Gray saluted. "Understood; no lies shall escape us."

"Thanks."

Gray gave me a weird look, then ran off - I guess to get ready. I stayed put, holding the old wall up, wondering why I said thanks to a space alien voice in my head.

I took a long pull off my lemonade. It was changing me, but how? And how much?

No, I refused to second guess. I was who I was, I did the things I did, I had done the things I had done. What was that word, where you dissected the past. Whatever it was, I wasn't falling for it.

Ivan came to get me. "All ready in the square. We could use an extra pair of eyes."

I knocked back another mouthful of lemon. "Sure."

Four sets were better than three.

The square was a bit further in, and had another wall, of all things, around it. This one was about three feet high, all piled loose stones with wooden framed gates inset in front of the houses and other buildings facing it. I don't think I'd ever seen the like before. Why would they need such a wall here? it didn't serve to keep anything out. Would it keep anything in?

The answer hit me as I looked into the sea of tense faces. Children; this is where they kept an eye on their kids to make sure they didn't wander off or get eaten by wolves or something.

The elder started as soon as I showed, shooting me nervous glance as I took a seat on the wall next to the main gate, my guns as obvious as I could make them without actually drawing.

"These visitors are Hunters," the crowd gasped loudly, as expected. One stout lady even fainted dead away. No one went to help her, so she was probably fine and this sort of thing happened all the time. "They have come to help us with a grave problem."

Ivan stepped up, ever the showman. "You have witches among you."

I took note of faces while the villagers all stared at Ivan with variations of shock. Gray was doing his thing, and Alicia was covering the back of the crowd.

"We are tasked with removing the evil and excising the taint." Ivan intoned, brandishing two of his knives.

There. That kid was calm, and looked just old enough to be a ringleader. Many of the other kids around him were shooting glances his way while trying not to look directly. While the rest of the peons looked at their neighbors in fear, many more were looking directly at him. Too many.

For the moment, I was ignored. Ivan continued.

"Those among you inflicted with this taint should step forward. Otherwise, we shall be forced to raze this town and salt the earth of this mountain."

The shock on all faces was pretty priceless. That was also my cue; I hopped off the wall and stepped forward, patting heads as I passed.

"As you are touched, move out of line, to the right. Over there."

The right was closest to the back entrance, and a very long fall if you missed the goat path. And there was the tension, ratcheted up another notch as people realized what we were about. That we didn't really care about things like due process or evidence.

It was typical (that word didn't seem to fit, but it was close enough) to have one not go when touched; when it happened, I simply drew and pointed at the kid's head.

"Step lively, and join your friends."

He stepped, as do the others I touched on my way by. Gray ad a few I missed; I added them in.

"The rest of you, to the left, over there."

Closest to the main entrance, and safety in their minds. Thus were mothers separated from sons and daughters, husbands and wives, and all that. Even if there weren't actually any adults in my group.

I did question Ivan about leaving me in charge of this part, but it was his call.

"Alicia, do you have the album?"

"I do Sasha."

The album was a small photo album, a few hundred glossy color photos, all of towns, villages, and cities that no longer existed in any meaningful way. I mean, there was rubble, but not much else, and rubble didn't really count. There were graveyards for some of them too I supposed.

"Take this, and pass it around. Each one is a photograph of a city, town, or village... just like this one. They all have one thing in common. They were all destroyed by witches... or by the hunt after witches took them over. I want you to pay special note to all the bodies, and how few escape death. Pay special attention to the names, you'll have heard of some of them. Either way, the towns and people in them end up just as dead."

My voice was authority, but not loud; I didn't want the adults to hear. Not that they would call me a liar if they did, but I didn't need the screaming match for what we were trying to do.

The kid they all looked to stayed calm. "The hunt won't last forever, or even survive much longer!"

Idiot. "You better hope we do. Half those villages, junior, killed directly by witches themselves, just for pissing them off by existing. Now we aren't here to debate; here is what's going to happen. We know you're all involved, and no we aren't telling you how. In a year's time, a hunter team will be back, and if we find any evidence of cult activity, we burn the place down, kill everyone here, and salt the earth. If you leave, we track, find, and kill you; there is no escape from us. We are the hunt.

Alicia will hand out a token. You will wear it, it will cleanse you of any taint if worn for the year. If you do not wear it, we will know. If you do not cease your activities, we will know. You will do as we request, or your people die. Do you understand?"

The tokens were more to save them, not their people. If people saw visible action being taken, some obvious sign f redemption, they would be less likely to lynch or otherwise kill these idiots once we left. It had been known to happen.

Alicia passed out the trinkets while I stood around looking stern. Everyone hurriedly put theirs on except the suspected ringleader kid.

"Put it on kid, or you'll be dead before sundown."

He paled, and muttered at me. "You're younger than me."

Ha. He probably was, physically. "Sure about that, are you? I wouldn't be too sure."

He put the token on; a small crow made of silver. Each team had their own token, to prevent counterfeits and any confusion.

Ours was a relic of my mentor; she liked crows. I'd worn one myself, way back when.

I singled one kid at random. "You, come with me."

He led the way out of the square, a young boy that couldn't be older than eight. "W-w-what do you want?"

"We know we got the ringleader, kid, and we know we got most of the players. What I want to know from you is, did we miss anyone? I have to ask, and I picked you. Don't bother lying."

"N-no, you didn't miss any of us. You kind of added a few. Look, we were just playing, we didn't mean anything by it! We...."

And here came the tears. At least he was telling the truth. Gray confirmed it. "Don't know, don't care. All the hunt cares about is killing witches and their sympathizers."

He gulped and nodded. "Go join your friends."

I could not wait until I knocked the dust of this town and it's people from my boots.

I took the opportunity to stare out over the view. It was a nice one.

"Sasha, your friends are waiting for you." Gray said.

Time to do the rest of it. "On my way."

The village was united again, some showing off their new jewelry nervously to the rest. I got here just in time for the last act.

"Those marked with the storm crow are to be protected," Ivan intoned loudly to the mayor. "If any harm befalls them before their time of penance, their souls will be lost for all eternity. Damnation will be swift to follow."

Translation for those less superstitious: we will know if you kill the ones tagged, and we will take steps, so don't. I couldn't really blame the superstitious, they didn't know about the aliens. Not even Central really knew, come to think of it. Well, I'd hinted at it to some, at least.

Ivan turned to the French wannabe hunter. "Patrol those catacombs. Make sure they decay in peace."

The guy nodded nervously. "It will be done."

Warren looked up. "I can do that."

It was my turn to shine. "No you can't. You'll be coming with us."

The shock in his face wasn't entirely genuine - he knew. "What?!?"

"You know why. Don't make things difficult, I'm annoyed enough at you already."

He took in where my hands were, and slumped. "I won't resist. Can I at least say goodbye to my daughter?"

"Nope!" Alicia replied with false cheer. "We're leaving now."

Wait, we could use this. "Sure, go ahead."

Ivan and Alicia both stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "I'll be coming with you while you do, of course."

He blew a breath, nodded, and set off.

His daughter was sporting a crow on her dark blue and white dress. She was about twelve and sporting pig tails in her dark hair, and just beginning to grow out as well as up. As usual, even for altitudes like this, she wore no hat. Gray gave her the once over and shook his head, so that was one question answered. Warren picked her up and hugged her close.

"Margaret, honey. Daddy's got to go away for awhile, with the hunters. Be a good girl for me while I'm gone, okay? Berty will take care of you, like we planned, alright?"

The tears weren't helping; the kid knew something was up. "I don't want you to go!"

Well, I could help. Kind of. I didn't think on it twice. "It's not his choice, kid. We've got questions for him, and he's got answers. You can ask the Hunt if you need more information."

I almost added more, but no, she would know who to look for when she got old and skilled enough. If she held a grudge, that is.

"Let's go, Warren."

He put his daughter down reluctantly, and gently pried her off when she held on, crying. A large woman stepped up to grab her, and Warren twisted his way back into the gathering crowd, He wasn't quick about it, which was good for him.

We were outside the village, down the main trail and away from the elder's judging gaze before he spoke again, almost too softly for even a trained hunter to hear.

"What gave me away?"

"You tried very hard to sell us on the witch angle back in the catacombs - to try and sell yourself as clueless. We were on to you, even then. However, what clinched it? You knew entirely too much about how the hunt dealt with cults to know so little about the rest."

He mulled that over while I mulled over the lesson. At least I think there was a lesson in the man's desire to protect his daughter outing him. Be damned if I could find it though.

My life was a series of backs. Back down another mountain, back to the train, back to Central... or back to some other random village when our train gets flagged down.

Flagging down a Hunt train was a risky business; we tended not to stop unless there was an obstruction on the tracks. The old portly man waving fireworks around frantically from the side would normally be very hard to see until it was time for the warning shots... or the closer shots.

But Ivan ordered the engineer to slow, as soon as we saw what was going on.

We weren't that far from the mountain, as the train moved. Surely we were still in France. It still looked like France - as if the very land itself was too arrogant, too consumed with being pretty and better than everything else, that it became annoying.

This old man didn't have arrogance on the mind, as far as I could tell. It was probably the blood spatters on his clothes distracting him. Or the burning fireworks that he was holding in his bare hands; those burns had to be painful.

He was also slightly too close to the tracks; our engineer managed to stop a few feet before the old man became wheel grease. Still, the way the brakes worked, I doubted he'd be able to hear us for awhile.

Still, the smoke in the distance spoke volumes. It was enough smoke for an entire town, not just a simple village, and even as we jumped off and the old guy started yammering in French, we all knew what he was trying to say.

No fire that large could be natural - not in these old and well tended lands.

Ivan and Alicia both turned back to get their generators and gear.

I didn't really have that problem; not when I didn't want to. "Gray, get my pack and meet me. I'll be going on ahead."

Gray nodded once, gravely. "Be careful Sasha."

I grinned. "Careful is my middle name."

Gray stopped and cocked his head. "No it isn't."

Sigh. "Gray, pack. now, please."

"Right."

The old guy was watching me now, his mouth open. When my eyes met his, he crossed himself. Well, I couldn't tell him he was wrong; that was a thing people did around witches, and I was one. I could argue I was on the side of angels, but only a fool would believe that.

Instead I just waved and set off. I could be fast when I wanted to be.

I could probably have waited and squeezed myself into one of Gray's saucers, but the image of being all cramped up in that thing with a witch taking pot shots at me was not a pleasant one.

Yep, that was a town in flames, complete with people fleeing from it. At least they weren't getting picked off as they ran. there was no place to hide; no safe approach to be unseen taking. The place was surrounded by pastoral fields and flatter than the pancakes I really wanted right now.

There were four large trails of smoke,. three of which were very black, and the fourth was more normal, like a house fire. Or judging from the size, a few houses. Or a block.

All told it looked like about half the town, instead of the entire thing, and the trail of destruction was spreading. Too bad I couldn't see who was causing it. I probably could if I put my visor on, but that came with it's own problems.

Namely that I wanted to end the bloodshed, not cause more from panic as everyone in my general vicinity stops and runs back into town away from me.

Ivan would be surprised I was thinking things through so clearly, and working the problem. He might even be impressed I hadn't drawn yet, but I didn't want to risk getting recognized; for some reason, not too many people were ever happy to see me.

The crowd was beginning to piss me off. It was hard to run to the source of the purple fire when everyone else was either trying to knock me down or grab me.

But again, I resisted pulling my guns. I was responsible and in control.

There was a wall, an old crumbly thing which was easily climbed when I finally reached it. No one bothered to maintain things anymore, not that walls did much against witches, really, but it was best to make them work for it.

It clearly didn't do much in this case, there were at least two large holes I could see in the wall from on top of it, and that was just one side. At least no one was going to try and knock me down here in a mad panic, now if I could just see over the buildings....

Oh, nevermind. No more buildings to interfere, just debris to dodge and plaster powder to choke on. And on the other side, the witch.

She wasn't anyone I recognized; there was no wanted poster; no file with her face on it back at Central. Her hair matched the fire she threw, but her eyes were blue. She was a little thin, a little lanky, and a little too edged to look strictly normal. Her hat was a stereotypical one, perched at an angle atop her head and bent just so.

She was smiling, the firelight reflecting off her perfect teeth as she watched people burn alive. Then her eyes met mine, and the grin widened.She floated up, making herself a perfect target.

"She told me that if I did this, the Hunt would show up - but I didn't expect you this quickly."

My first shot hit her right in the face, not that it was easy to tell, since the beam was wide enough to engulf her.

She sat up, smoking. "I actually felt that. You're strong."

"You survived. So are you. Care to tell me who told you to kill until the Hunt showed up?" Right, there were stronger shots I could take.

"Beat me and find out." Purple hair replied.

I shot her again. She tried to dodge, which was beyond amusing. How was a person going to dodge light? Even a witch?

"So, what did the Hunt offer you, traitor? All the grimoires you could steal? All the witch blood you could drink?"

Traitor? That was also amusing, considering witches were traitors to their species almost the minute they were born. Still, she got up again, so there was that.

"All the real traitors I could kill, actually."

This time flame met my shot, and stopped it entirely; how did that happen? Did this scums flame have substance or weight somehow?

So the flames flew everywhere, and my own shot shattered, and all that energy had to go somewhere. There were screams.

That was it, no matter the cost, she had to die here. I couldn't let her escape.

She blocked the next three shots the same way. It was some serious bullshit. "Gray, how is she doing this?"

"Her magic, of course." Gray deadpanned. "And by magic I mean the form her power has taken. Those flames are plasma, which carries a charge and...."

I could feel it; my eyes started to glaze.

"Nevermind, the how is not important," Gray continued. "What is important, is that you need more firepower in order to beat this enemy."

Alicia and Ivan still weren't in range, as far as I knew. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Use the fleet."

Gray had a point, each ship in the fleet had as much firepower as my guns. Any two had more firepower than my guns. Five all at once would be overkill. Wait, did five ships count as a fleet? That seemed too small to count. No, focus.

"Do it."

"Understood."

I ducked as flames flew, failing to do more than singe the air; I was protected from heat of all forms, and barely felt the air heat up.

I did feel the force that was my return fire however, as the first two saucers drove the witch into the ground like the hammer of an angry God. First came the targeting laser, then riding that wave down came the real danger, the full power coaxial combat laser. I wasn't sure what one of those was, but I couldn't deny the results.

Yet, the witch sat up, looking around for the source. "What the hell was that?"

I held up a hand. An empty hand, since I no longer needed my own guns for this. "Take a guess."

Those blue eyes narrowed. Then she jumped up from the crater I'd put her in and exploded.

Maybe I shouldn't have attacked so soon. It was my turn to pick myself up, and when I did I was staring a fire snake with legs in the face.

"Meet Jake, my fire salamander." Purple said.

"Pleased to meet you, Jake." I told him as he opened his mouth wide.

I still didn't need to draw. Gray slammed the familiar away from me, and pounded Purple back into the dirt. Both spewed more fire in response.

"Sasha, I need more time to charge up the main batteries, or more ships focused on one target. Can you distract the familiar please?"

"I don't think I need to," I told him. "He seems pretty focused on me already. Just shoot the witch, I'll be fine."

The lizard tried to make me a liar by eating me, but I managed to keep one step ahead; the rubble was my friend. In return I ate some fire, but my uniform was potent enough for me to ignore it when backed by my own power. Were we evenly matched, somehow?

Gray's next shot was a pretty definitive 'no.' I felt the drain, and began to feel the heat, and then the entire town vaporized in an instant. somehow I didn't get touched at all by the light, the blast, and any debris that survived the initial blast. Even the dust blew by without touching me.

I reached behind my back and brought out my visor. A simple scan revealed nothing. There were no life signs of any kind, witch or otherwise, in front of me. Not even a mouse or rat.

A patch of purple hair caught my scanning eye... and the smoking remains of a hat. There wasn't much left, it seemed. Of anything.

I'd been in this situation before, but I didn't have pockets to stick my hands in any more, and my whistling sounded weird. A life sign popped up, then another; somehow I was getting a reading of them even when both were behind me. They were... familiar. I let them approach.

"Sasha, you didn't."

I pointed slowly to the hat. "She did it. Well, most of it anyway, the town was well on it's way to frying before I got here, and when she saw me... well there wasn't any left for me to kill. Not that i wanted to! I'm fine; perfectly sane, here."

Alicia poked Ivan in the ribs. "Come on, this is Sasha we're talking about. This sort of thing is normal. don't pretend you didn't see what I saw."

Ivan holstered his knives and approached the hat. "I wasn't going to. But you have to admit, even for Sasha, the level of destruction is high. How many shots was this, Sasha?"

okay, they didn't see all of the fight, but they should have seen that much. "One - from Gray's saucers. All five of them, but just a single concentrated shot. She had some sort of shield above and beyond the normal which was blocking my guns with no problem. Also, she specifically set out to attack here to draw either a Hunt response or us. She said some words to that effect, and admitted she'd been given the idea by someone else. I'm willing to bet another witch."

Alicia kicked a piece of wood out of her way. "Perfect. Just perfect. It never just rains, does it?"

"Let them hunt us. It makes hunting them easier." Ivan said,. feeding the hat into his generator.

Something about the way he said it made me uneasy. "I don't know, Ivan. She was strong. Too strong; something is up, here."

He didn't dismiss it. "What are you thinking?"

I told him: "A witch that strong, she'd have pasted Riddle. She might even have been able to beat...her. So why haven't we heard of her before now? She was a new face, and purple hair is a dead giveaway. But I didn't know her, and she seemed new. So why was she so strong? the timing seems too good to me."

If I hadn't been here, if it had been any other team, this town would still be ash, and the team would be too. Instead I was here when she was here, or she was here because I was here, and I was able to easily take her down. Well, for a certain amount of easy.

Someone had told her to attack the town, and do it while our train was passing by. Someone was keeping close tabs on us, and had access to witches, even fresh witches, that had power enough to take on one of the four; you didn't just throw away power like that unless you had more of it.

"Don't worry about it," Ivan told me. "We can't do anything about it now."

"Yeah, worry about the town you just wiped off the map!" Alicia yelled out, already halfway down what used to be the main street.

I shrugged. "If I hadn't, the witch would have."

Ivan's eye turned to the small group of shell shocked people walking back into range. "We can offer some evidence to that effect, but...."

"You didn't see everything, I know." there would have been an inquiry before; there was no doubt of it now. My every action, every breath, was going to get taken apart like a body on a slab. I was pretty sure I knew how it would go too, even when everyone knew I didn't do anything different than before I gained my hat.

I should have waited, even if more were likely to die.

"You! What did you do!?!"

The old codger committee had gotten into shouting range. Joy. At least they were speaking English. The one who flagged us down was third from the front, trying to hide with his face down.

I looked to Ivan. Did he want me to answer? He shook his head and stepped up.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"You blew up the town!" The old codger screamed, finally ambling to a stop right in front of us, looking up at Ivan. At least that ploy worked, for now.

The one guy knew who had gotten here first, and I'm sure others had taken notice of the crazy person... girl headed to the attack rather than away from it. The natives would turn to me soon.

And my visor was still on. Whatever, it was too late to take it off now, and too much to hope for that the villagers wouldn't realize what it was.

"The witch blew up the town, after hunter Norre engaged her. Unless any here can gainsay her testimony."

The old codger looked at me and paled as I gave him the biggest grin I could manage. How had a guy like this survived? He probably was the first to cut and run. "Go ahead, call me a liar."

He had the nerve to point a bony finger at me. "But that's...!"

"Hunter Norre, the Marksman." Ivan finished for him.

The old guy's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fainted dead away. His posse scrambled to save his life.

"Elder!"

"Back up! Give him some air!"

"Someone get some water!"

Boring.

The old guy who flagged us down had something to say as I passed. "If I'd known, I'd have let you go by."

He wasn't even nursing his burned hands, which I could respect. The old guy could take some pain. "Then you'd all surely be dead. The witch came to kill; not harass, not play around - just to kill."

He eyed my guns. "The witch wasn't the only one, was she?"

No fool, this man. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"None today," he answered. "The hunt will hear from us as soon as the message can be sent."

"A success then; people are alive to complain. I could deliver it myself if you like."

"I'd prefer to have someone I trust do the job."

I shrugged; life was too short to get offended over who didn't trust you. "It was just an offer to speed up the process."

The old guy's teeth creaked, and blood dripped from between his lips. "Do you really think you're above the law? You're no better than the rest of them."

Okay, now that was something to challenge my calm. My own blood roared in my ears. "I'm not above the law, and I meant exactly what I said. Sometimes you have good luck, and sometimes you don't. Your town today got visited by a witch that was perfectly willing to burn it all down and kill everyone inside. You really think running would save you? It was a game to her, she was taking her time. She could fly.

You were all dead. Anyone in your town was dead. I acted not to save the dead, but to save future victims; if I hold back, if I let her escape, she just does it again somewhere else. So yes, people died. Probably great, if unlucky people. But because those people died, another thousand or so the next town over won't."

That actually gave the old man pause - for a bit. "Who are you, to decide such things?"

"I'm a hunter. The hard choice is what we do." Hmm, my cheeks were wet. Was my visor causing me to sweat or something? Had I gotten hit and not noticed?

The old guy backed off without another word. That was fine, I didn't want to deal with his bull. Unless or until Ivan triggered his remote, my place was as far away from here as possible. But I couldn't go back to the train, the mob could turn ugly and my team would be forced to defend themselves; it had happened before.

I didn't want them dying for something they didn't even do. That also had happened before.

There was a hill in my visor's range. At least when combined with one of Gray's saucers. I wasn't sure how that worked, but with one of gray's ships in the air, I could see around hills and towns and had a better range for all of it.

So I took a bit of cover behind an old shack, put my back into holding the wall up, and waited. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

Gray amused me by flying interesting patterns with his ships, extending my range even further while I most pointedly did not look at the time spent.

Ivan found me first. "Ready for a beer? I know I am."

If any time was beer time, it was now. That went without saying. "How bad is it?"

"Morocco bad. Maybe a bit worse."

I winced. Well, if I got kicked out of France it wouldn't be all bad; after all I wouldn't have to go back to France. Silver linings, and all that.

"Don't worry about it," Alicia told me. "Nothing's going to happen. Just a bunch of peasants speaking out of grief."

That didn't mean nothing was going to happen, but at least Alicia was making the effort.

I was more worried about next time; and there would be a next time.

The train was right where we left it and none the worse for wear. I entered first, trying and failing to resist scratching my neck. I was beginning to think I was developing one of those weird habits or giveaways I always used to laugh at other people for, like Dustin's fondling of his stick when he's trying to act confident.

I beat them both to the bar, but this time they followed me in. I grabbed the first thing in front of me right as Gray walked in, and downed it.

Gray surprised me by climbing onto a stool himself and grabbing the nearest liquid in his range; he downed it like a champion.

If my other two drinking companions noticed Gray's lapse, they didn't say anything.

Another back. This time, back to Central, and the front desk where Sarah was waiting.

"Welcome back, Sasha."

I tried to hide my surprise at being singled out first. I wasn't in charge of the team any more, after all. "Thank you, Sarah."

Then she looked to me, which was awkward. "Ivan has our report."

"Oh, of course."

I took a seat on an empty lobby bench and waited for it. I didn't have to wait long.

"Sasha, my office." Gloom said from the base of the stairs.

He didn't wait to escort me, but he didn't really need to. I didn't even dare to take my time; not now.

I didn't bother to knock, and he didn't bother to start how I expected. "We got some good intel off that guy you sent ahead. That was a good call."

Confusing. "I wasn't alone in that, we all made that guy. What intel did you get?"

he gave me a look for a second, then continued. "He worked for none other than killer Cat, and has for some time. He managed or started several sympathizer cells across three different countries, each feeding her information on where our operations were, and even intel on witches too. She's been keeping tabs on everyone for years, and no one knew."

"And the cell?"

"Not one of his, ironically enough. Of all the ways to get caught. He was going to work on one there, but contacted the wrong kid and things spiraled out of control, according to him."

I could believe that. Run with crazies and sooner or later you find one you can't control. "When's the execution?"

Traitors to their race got hanged by the neck until dead, and their wasn't a more clear case for the punishment in my memory.

"Not for some time yet. We still need to know what he knows. It might not be much, but we need it. He met with Cat directly, at least once."

That was... surprising. Why would Cat meet with that guy in person? He was smitten, sure, a true chaser, but why risk the word getting out? Everyone had assumed Cat was dead or in hiding, not active. If the Hunt had gotten word she was starting spy cells before....

Could impressing an already loyal follower be worth the risk of exposure? What did she care of exposure, really? Why was I assuming she did care? Maybe she just hadn't bothered before. The rumors of a witch on the side of the Hunt however, could have drawn her out.

But if so, how had she heard those rumors so quickly? She would have needed to start almost before I woke up in a dress that day.

Something about that felt wrong to me; it was just too fast.

Gloom moved a little, drawing my eyes. "Good, you're seeing it too. The possibility of a mole in the Hunt exists, and the timing couldn't be worse for us."

Damn politics.

"So what's the plan?" Gloom always had a plan.

"No plan, other than find out what he knows and why." Except when he didn't.

"Well, whatever. That's your show. What do you need me to do?"

Gloom looked up, his eyes like shards of glass. "Maintain a low profile."

Oh, so that's where this was going. "I..."

"What happened at Mulino?"

"Was that the name of the place?" Great, that was great; let's just get all of the most stupid things I could say out of the way first.

Glooms frown deepened, and shadows started to dance along the walls. "What. Happened."

"The engineer brought to our attention an old man, flagging us down. Ivan told him to stop, so he did."

I wasn't actually sure any of us told the engineer to stop, but no sense getting him in trouble, and I wasn't there for the entire time so it could have happened.

"Once we were stopped the old guy gibbered French at us and pointed, and we noticed the smoke. Ivan and Alicia went back to get their generators, and I went ahead with Gray."

Gloom opened his mouth, but stopped when I held up a hand. "Let me finish before you start telling me how stupid I am, please."

Would wonders never cease.

"Anyway, so we went on ahead. When we got there, I saw the town basically in flames, and the witch in the open, roasting people and having a grand old time. So of course, I got close enough and took my shot, which somehow she just shrugged off. Then she fired something at me, some purple beam, and knocked me around a bit. We traded blows for a time, and she said words to the effect of: 'she was right, if I did this she said the hunt would appear and it has.' and she also accused me of being a traitor."

Gloom wanted to talk, I could tell, but he stayed silent.

"We traded more blows for a minute, I shot her familiar some, and Gray suggested he could end the stalemate I was facing. So he gathered up all his ships or whatever you want to call them, and fired. The witch fired too at the same time. Between the witch and Gray and me we pretty much destroyed the town. But the people?"

I didn't say it, I could tell Gloom knew; those people that had died were as good as dead anyway.

"You should have waited for your team, Sasha." Gloom whispered, almost too quiet for me to hear.

"Yeah I should have, but you know me." I wasn't really capable of standing around twiddling my thumbs while people died to a witch less than a mile from me.

"So... Gray. With all his little ships, how strong is he?"

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. "Strong enough. With his full fleet, Gray can probably remove any town you want gone in seconds, and any city in minutes."

There would be no secrets between us. Not any of that kind, anyway.

Gloom slumped back in his chair and the shadows stopped dancing. "I see. As strong as your mother?"

I thought about it. I was possibly stronger. "Maybe."

Another moment of silence; Gloom could probably tell what I was thinking. "Let's not find out, okay? No going after Olivia for now. Killer Cat is more than bad enough."

But Olivia was easier than...!

"When the time comes, I'm going to need your help with Cat."

What? "But you're the Gloom! Witches all around the world run from you!"

Gloom shook his head. "Cat doesn't. the only one who could make her back down was the first marksman. She laughed at me, when we last met."

My mentor. "What did she do different?"

Gloom looked back, away from the past, and deadpanned. "She shot her, of course. She used the gun."

The gun was a rifle. A remade Winchester 30-06. It had vanished after she had died, or I'd be using it. With it, she had been unbeatable. I'd always been better at close quarters, anyway.

"The point is, we need you, Sasha. So try not to get yourself killed by angry mobs before then; alright? keep your head, and try not to do anything rash. I don't want to be forced into... unpleasant steps."

Gloom being reasonable? Gloom explaining things, while staring directly into my eyes, without anger? My heart skipping a beat for no reason whatsoever?

Weird. "Got to ask then; would you have done anything differently?"

He didn't answer. "Go ahead and get some rest. You'll need it."

With a shrug I headed back out.

Good news, I didn't need to check my generator back in. Or ask for my share in a hat. Even checking my guns in would be useless, if I ever bothered to do that anyway. Without the need to file paperwork, I could go right to my room and sleep a week!

Silver linings.I didn't have many, but there were a few.

Gray had beaten me back to my room; the little jerk. I didn't see him there, taking the heat from Gloom. Instead he was standing on my chair, using my pencil and paper to write stuff on my desk.

Whatever; I flopped on my bed, arms spread. What had that been, back in gloom's office? Did I have health problems now? I was too young for health problems. Gray would know.

"Gray, do I have any health problems?"

"No, you are perfectly healthy. There were some genetic anomalies which could lead to dementia later on in your life, but those have been purged in your transformation."

Some might argue differently. "Good to know."

"Why do you ask?" Gray asked.

"No reason. I just had a random thought. Those happen, sometimes."

"How rare are they?"

Now what was that supposed to mean? "Was that a crack at my intelligence?"

"Not at all." It was more of a 'crack' at your creativity."

Well, that's better... wait, no it isn't. "I'll have you know I'm plenty creative."

"No you aren't. Your only response to a situation is to shoot it."

Was that all? "Why mess with what works? You're going to second guess me too, now?"

Gray turned, his face serious. "No Sasha, this isn't about the town. But you need to start using different tactics, or the next time you meet a witch like that one could be your last. Then who will save humanity?"

Saving humanity was too much. The Gloom could do it, I'd just focus on killing witches.

"What are you writing?"

"The commands to engage your cloaking device."

Wait, I had a cloaking device? Did I need cloaks? Those only seemed to get in the way of my draw; even capes were better.

"Is that some sort of portable cabinet or something?" Gray was always trying to get me to dress stupid, so it was no surprise.

It was a surprise to Gray though: "What? No! It makes you invisible. It's basically a spell to make you invisible, so you won't be seen and can sneak up on people. With luck you can use it to actually take prisoners or save lives, rather than just shoot everyone."

"Right, well good luck with that."

Gray huffed at me. "You can be quiet when you want to be. I've seen your memories."

"Most of my targets have extra senses."

"You do too, now. If you put a little effort in, you can figure out what the limits of those senses are, and how to bypass them. The cloaking device is just the first step in that."

I rolled over, away from him. "Sounds too much like work. Wake me when you're done... or for the next war."

"Fine," Gray huffed. "I'll do all the work."

"Sounds good."

......

"Well?" Plague asked, crossing her legs ostentatiously as she leaned back in her chair. "you have such great chairs in your office, Gloom."

"She didn't do things right, but she did things right for her. I can't find a fault." Gloom replied, leaning back in his own chair.

"So I did right?" Alicia asked, arms crossed as she stood very straight.

"Yes, there was no need to blow her collar. She's not out of control; at least this time."

"Good," Alicia said, holding up the little button. "I don't like this thing, you know."

"I know, but Ivan's too obvious. He might not even push the button."

"Oh, he'd push it, no problems." Alicia disagreed, stowing the button back into her belt.

"If you want, I can take it and shadow you guys again," Plague offered.

"Nah, that's fine. I got it; no one else is going to blow the little pipsqueak's head off but me."

Plague shrugged. "If you want."

"Either way, let's just ease off a bit," Gloom stated, head lolling back. "Tell Ivan the team has a few days Alicia, alright?"

"Alright," Alicia agreed, and all but bounced out the door.

Plague waited for her steps to ease before turning back to Gloom. "There are plenty of assignments . Why do you want them close? Worried?"

Gloom shook. "No, just a gut feeling."

Plague flipped one of her vials, catching it. "Well if it's one thing us Hunters should do, it's trust our gut. Many don't do it nearly often enough."

"Right, well there is still the matter of the interrogation to deal with. Do you want to assist?"

"Sure, I thought you'd never ask."

......

Ivan slid in behind as Alicia reached the bottom of the stairs. "Well?"

"No badness today."

"Good. The little one is safely in bed."

Alicia's jaw hit the floor. "At three in the afternoon? Was booze involved?"

"Nope. She just went upstairs and conked out."

"Weird, is her endurance going?"

Ivan shrugged, snagging a glass of water from the lobby desk. "I think it's just all finally catching up to her. Maybe being able to wipe out a city in a few seconds has some down sides."

"Probably it does," Alicia admitted before her faint grin slid off her face. "i think there's more going on here."

Ivan nodded absently. "I'm sure of it. I'd love to get ahold of the little freak and pump it for information, but no one has seen it since the... experiment. Or no one who admits it anyway. I think there is a hole somewhere we don't know about."

"There would almost have to be, since we never saw him before." Alicia mused. "Oh well, a dish best served cold and all that."

"Well, then I know what time it is."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep! Time to get drunk without the midget fouling it up."

"I can work with that." Alicia admitted with a grin.

......

There was noise. Lots of noise. I wasn't even hung over, and people were waking me up. Was there a fight going on or something? A duel? I was going to stomp some people into the ground.

I rolled out of bed into a crouch; Gray had my pistols in hand, grips held out to me. "I believe this is no ordinary violence among your kind."

Another loud crack and a deep rumble, and the building shook. Someone was playing pretty rough out there. "You might be right."

But then what was going on? There was no way....

An explosion, very close, and I hit the staircase before I knew I was moving.

Another explosion, and I was showered with dust as the ceiling above me cracked. Who would be stupid enough to....?

The ceiling shattered and I spun through a dodge to avoid the pieces. "Gray."

"Already assembling them."

Good.

The lobby was empty, and this close the sounds of battle were obvious. The explosions and screaming all painted a grim picture; but who would be insane enough?

I made my way through the doors, and the answer was made clear; there, crouched on the wall like a gargoyle in a dress, was a witch.

I didn't recognize her; she had short curly brown hair topped by a beret, her clothes were some sort of tan dress that looked almost like a uniform, and she was almost as large as Alicia. she was better built than Alicia - her biceps were as large as my head. beside her, propped up on the wall, was a truly large club that looked to be made of stone.

I knew she was a witch because I could feel the power she had; I could tell she felt the same.

She grinned. "About time! I've been knocking forever! Do all hunter witches sleep so soundly?"

Well there was only one of me, so... "Yes. And you are?"

She slapped her forehead dramatically and rose up. And up. And up some more. "Right, how silly of me. I'm Shale, and you are Sasha Norre. Pleased to meet you."

An explosion to my right was close enough for the wind created to ruffle my clothes and force me to taste my hair. "Wish I could say the same. Why didn't you just walk in? The lobby is open. Care to tell me where our friends are?"

"Well the lobby didn't look that inviting to me," So she knew about the countermeasures, or at least suspected. "So I settled on knocking, since we didn't see you. As for friends, our friends? don't you mean mine?"

"Mine are probably fighting yours." Was she that stupid? Well, i already knew the answer to that one.

"Good point. Well, some are that way, and some are that way," she pointed left and right; then at herself. "But before you get ahead of yourself, you get to play with me."

"Well, I play rough. I tend to break my toys."

Shale grinned. "I know, it's why I volunteered to find you; so do I."

Right. I drew and struck first, but the wall Shale was standing on came up to block me. Of course, she did things with stone, so of course she could block the worst of it.

"Volunteered to who? Who are you working for?"

I dodged shards of stone suddenly intent in ripping through my more tender parts; great, so she could animate shrapnel I created. "Wouldn't you like to know? Beat me and find out."

The second shot drove her off the wall, and the third shot slapped stone into her face. She took it in stride, and I ate some stone chips to my own face. I didn't feel it, much.

Shale got up, none the worse for wear; what was it with these witches lately? I went years without seeing witches this tough, other than a few. Now I was seeing one every other day. Did they have a witch store or something, where they just picked them up in bulk?

"I'm ready Sasha."

"Let me try first Gray, no sense going straight to you." There were still people alive near, I knew. My visor was showing them to me; when had that gotten on my head? I didn't have it when I hit the door, did I?

Whatever, it was here now and showing life signs; faint signals but obviously human ones, going by the shape. If Gray cut loose here, it would not be pretty.

But there was more than one way to handle stone walls. I had two guns after all, and one shot put a hole in stone no matter how I shot it.

So when she raised her next wall, I drew my other gun and put two beams in the air, one right after the other. The first tagged her just through the stone, and the second put her down.

"Ow. Darn, you really hurt, girl! Well I was only told to wake you up, not fight you, so.. see ya!"

She melded into the ground and took off like a gopher; I could just make out the bulge in the road as she took off.

"Hey, get back here! Gray, track her."

"Understood," Gray said.

Somehow, the witch managed to make herself heard from underground. "You'll never catch me, runt!"

Runt? RUNT?!? A shot ahead of her made her change course with a yelp. How had she even seen to dodge that? "When I catch you, your fate will be a warning to all other witches on the cost of pissing me off."

"Sure thing, runt!"

She wasn't particularly fast, so keeping up was easy. Each time I thought I had a shot though, the stone of the road rose up to take the beam; even double shots didn't get to her. Normal shots anyway; Gloom's words about keeping things small and using my head were front and center in my mind.

Actually coming up with an idea for how to deal with a human mole was something I was drawing a blank on. Really it was fine - she thought she was leading me into a trap, but she was leading me where I wanted to go.

Where I wanted to go turned out to be the next building over; it was a four story about a half a mile from Central's large dome. An state office of some kind, bland and filled with bureaucrats. She went inside and a flood of people ran out, screaming. Curious, really. Following her in I detected no bodies and no life signs fading out; she hadn't even wounded people as she passed.

Very unusual behavior in a witch. Even I had to fight the temptation to maul the paper pushers. Or maybe it was just my hatred of paper pushers.

The human mole went up the stairs. sliding up dirt somehow. Yeah, enough of this; I wasn't slipping in that gravel anymore and the skies were my terrain. With a thought I lifted off and floated up the stairs. Rocketed up, as Gray insisted on thinking of it. I didn't get whatever he meant.

Concrete also counted as stone it seemed, but a few low power blasts ahead of me managed to clear the worst of it; I was gaining and the mole didn't seem to like that much.

The forest of concrete spikes was an unwelcome surprise, but it didn't slow me down much and none of them drew blood.

The mole did manage to get to the roof before me however, and I burst through just in time to see her swan dive off the top. She caught a rope grappled to the side and started sliding along it - when I shot the grapple, she swooped with a wild scream and slammed into the next building over.

There were people on the next building over, clearly battling. Flashes of light lit up moving clouds of darkness, and the wind carried green gas into both. I couldn't see who Gloom and Plague were fighting, but whoever it was had to still be alive, so they must be strong. The mole could tip that balance. It wasn't likely, but it could happen.

Another shot and she had no rope to climb up, but of course the building was concrete so it didn't actually matter.

Not to be outdone I had Gray pick me up; if she could climb faster than Gray could climb, she deserved the shot at Gloom. The streets were full - not of screaming civilians, but of hunters fighting witches in some sort of full-on battle. The hunters were outnumbered from what I saw.

"Gray."

"Right." Two of the fleet peeled off to even the odds as I raced the annoyance to the main fight.

Turns out the mole couldn't climb fast enough.

Turns out the one Gloom was fighting was none other than Killer Cat.

The mole, rather than take a shot, flowed into Cat as she cut loose with another light show. she just melted into the thing that looked like a little girl. What?

Cat turned to look right at me, through the darkness Gloom was currently trying to strangle her with. "Ah good, you're awake. That makes this much easier."

A slight gesture, just a tensing of a muscle, and we were both somewhere else; a forest, that didn't look like any forest I'd ever seen before - mainly because the leaves were all dark green or bright yellow, and it was clearly summer here. Wherever here was.

There was a castle in the distance' white stone gleaming in the very orange sun. But closer and more important was Cat herself, seated on a tree branch at the top of the hill, her mole friend sliding out of her like some kind of fleshy sweat.

"Hello and good morning, Sasha. We can talk freely here."

"Gloom? Plague?"

"Both fine, dealing with another me. They shouldn't die. They may not even get hurt, but it's hard to judge these things anymore," she pointed to my pistols. "You won't need those; you can holster them."

I did. Even Cat couldn't stop me from drawing if I wanted to; I was sure of that. Cat could make other hers, apparently; this was good to know, if she wasn't yanking my chain.

"So where is my man?" Cat asked, casually.

"Your man?" Oh this might be bad.

"The one you took into custody."

Yep, it was bad. "Truthfully i don't know. I'd imagine one of the holding cells, but I didn't personally bring your spy in, just find him, so I can't be sure."

Just what was it this guy had on Killer Cat that got this kind of response? Even for her, attacking Central was crazy, and doing it alone....

Cat sighed. "Dead, then. I had hoped to get here in time. And yes, I know what you were doing; congratulations; beating one of mine, especially that one, is not an easy feat. So much raw potential, so much devastating firepower."

She faded out of the tree and put an arm around me, right at my back. "I have to admit I see a young me in you, Sasha. Care to join forces? We could take on the world together, you and I."

She managed to get a hand on my arm as I was drawing. "Is that a no then? I'm not your enemy, Sasha. In fact I never was. I'm not even the enemy of humanity everyone makes me out to be."

"Prove it."

Cat made a show of thinking about it. "Hard to do; will the simple fact that neither you nor your friends are dead yet do?"

I had to admit she had a point. "Fair enough. Just how many witches are in your employ, if you don't mind me asking?"

As powerful as she was, she didn't stand a chance alone; one of the other witches would have bumped her off by now.

"You answered my question, so it's only fair I answer yours," She told me with a grin. "Not a single witch is in my employ or partnered with me. You'd be the first in... well, many years. Let's just leave it at that. You see, when I say 'mine' I don't mean the witch... I mean the demon a witch used to be allies with. You call them familiars, now I believe. I collect them, you see."

I was no sailor, but I knew a sinking feeling when I felt it. She'd been at this game for years... either taking familiars from live or dead witches. She was kind of like the French witch, only she probably had hundreds.

"Can you... see Gray? Take Gray?"

Cat paused. "Is that his name? I can certainly see him, but I wouldn't dream of taking him, Sasha. I like you, and witches who lose their demon are never the same afterward; you know this better than most."

That was a yes then.

"Sasha...."

"Relax Gray, no harm in asking." I said that, but the part that wanted Gray gone was surprisingly small. He was there always, my best buddy, one I could trust like no other. To have him suddenly vanish would be painful.

I turned back to Cat. Her wide grin pissed me off. "So what's your plan? Not saying I'll join you, but I'll hear you out."

Her grin widened, and her answer surprised me. "My plan is the same as yours, I'm betting. I'm planning to save humanity."

Saving humanity by killing witches; how was that any different than what I was doing? Cat was asking me to stay the course, wasn't she?

So why did I hesitate?

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to join forces; sorry."

I had my gun in line, but Cat ignored it. With a shrug, she told me, "Well, an uninformed decision is no decision at all. How about you take a look around, see my operation, and then decide?"

Cat was letting me walk? The castle was more than just some kind of prop?

Shale bowed. "I will escort her mistress."

"Full access, Shale. She can see everything she wants to. See that she comes to no harm here."

"It shall be done."

I had to ask. "What happens if I shoot her?"

Cat turned to me. "She will run again, and you'll be on your own here. You'll probably survive to go home, but I can't guarantee it. If you manage to kill her... well I'll be cross."

Right; cross. I hadn't yet, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to see Cat cross. I holstered up.

"Fine. Where are you going?" If someone else was going to escort me, it was a given that Cat herself was leaving, and I'd be unlikely - or not allowed- to follow.

"Back to discuss a few things with your friends. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I told you I wouldn't, didn't I?"

Oddly enough, the word of a witch actually did make me feel a bit better. After all, it wasn't as if she couldn't have killed most of them before. Maybe even Gloom, if he was alone. Despite his assurances on Cat's strength, I still thought he could pull a win at least. If he couldn't we were in trouble.

Cat vanished with a soft pop, and Shale turned to me. "I await your pleasure."

I took some comfort in how nervous she was. "My pleasure?"

"I am not to guide you, only escort you. You may go where you wish."

I guess that made sense. "I want to go to the castle, then."

Anything that I needed to know, I'd likely learn it there. If Cat really did sleep there, like I thought.

"The path will lead you right to it." Shale responded, pointing to the right-most path that appeared to lead away from the place.

"Where does the left lead?"

"To a lake," Shale responded. "It is a tranquil place, but rife with... wildlife, shall we say."

And didn't that sound ominous. "Dangerous?"

"To you, perhaps. It is hard to say. I am never molested there."

That sounded a bit like frustration to me.

With a shrug I started down the indicated path; there was no reason to really fear; if Cat wanted to she could have just left me here with no guide. She still might just leave me here, but my best chance of a way out lay in going forward in some direction, might as well be this one. At least Gray was with me, staying silent and playing possum, hopefully forgotten.

Well, he was moving, walking behind us, but that wasn't the point.

More importantly, his fleet was also following us. Cat hadn't been concerned, even though she could probably see them. I was pretty sure I could reduce that castle of hers to sand if I wanted, but if Cat was willing to leave me here, she wouldn't be happy if I wrecked her house - I really didn't want to be left here, wherever here was.

The feeling only intensified when I started spotting the wildlife. Not at all timid, no fear of humans, and everything just slightly off, the deer had golden fur too. We stared at each other a moment before it took berries from a bush next to me and moved on placidly.

I resisted the urge to shoot it, and it was harder to do that than expected. Something about a lack of healthy fear annoyed me. And that squirrel just looked all kinds of wrong.

A fork in the trail, and Shale took the right.

"Where does the left lead to?"

"A caterpillar ingesting hallucinogens. My master is a fan of the classics."

"Right." I had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded awful.

Down the path we went; the sounds of the various creatures that were either just ignoring us or shadowing us made my hands itch.

"Don't worry little one, they are harmless."

Says her. "I've seen squirrels go feral and kill people before - nothing is harmless."

Shale turned and gave me a look. "Point taken. Would you settle for 'so unlikely to hurt you that you don't need to spray them all over the forest'?"

I nodded. I could be reasonable.

"So, who's the newbie?" A voice asked cheerily from way too close.

I could be reasonable, I didn't actually fire.

A girl was behind me, small and blonde with pigtails and a summer dress that looked old. She held a small tattered cloth doll, it's little hand in hers. She was cute, and floating several feet off the ground, and didn't seem concerned to find a gun at her nose. She reminded me of Ana.

"A little jumpy, huh? That's okay."

"I'm the marksman. And you are?"

She grinned, mouthing my code name as if tasting it. "Oh sorry, I was rude, wasn't I? They call me ghost."

Shale sighed. "What are you doing out here, Ghost? You're supposed to be home. Cat told you that herself before we left."

The newly minted 'Ghost' stamped her foot in the air as if it was solid. Hm, she wasn't wearing shoes - I expected those little leather ones, polished to a mirror shine. "But home is boring! Everyone there just sits around, and no one wants to play! At least the caterpillar is fun!"

Oh wow, kid on hallucinogens... I was more than a little tempted to set that up, but knowing my luck I'd just end up babysitting the little scamp.

I pointed. "Yeah, I'm told the insect is that way. If you hurry, you might still catch him."

Ghost looked at me, wide eyed. "Oh no, I can't go see him now. You're much more interesting."

I was afraid she'd say that.

"So Shale, who is our guest?"

Shale looked as annoyed as I felt. "She told you. What you're really asking is why she's here, and that's simple. The boss is interested in her."

Ghost winced dramatically. "Oh, wow, sucks to be you. We're all here because she got interested in us."

"No," Shale corrected with a shake of her head. "Not her partner. In her."

Ghost gave me a once-over. "Really? In a witch this time? I'm not sure if that's better or worse."

Truth told, neither was I. Just how many familiars had Cat collected, over the years? I could applaud the dead witches, but the sheer amount of power represented....

"How many of you are there?"

Ghost, true to who I thought she was after only five minutes, answered without thinking. "Oh, hundreds, I think. It is hard to count us all most of the time, since we come and go."

Shale gave her a sharp look, which she shrugged off with a "What?"

Shale sighed again. "Nothing."

I was pondering being surrounded by hundreds of potentially hostile familiars. I was strong, sure. But was I strong enough for that?

Gray had much to answer for by teaching me all this 'caution' crap.I couldn't help but think that if I managed to kill a bunch of these, I'd really hurt Cat. Not for long probably, but perhaps for long enough. If only I didn't want to know what her game was.

Maybe I'd be able to figure out how to get back here on my own a little later. I didn't think Cat would overlook that detail, but if she did....

"So what are you thinking about?"

Well I saw no reason to lie. "How to gleefully murder you all."

Ghost hummed. "I can see why Cat likes you, that sounds like fun! Can I help?"

"Don't tell the girl our weaknesses, ghost. She really doesn't need the help."

ghost goggled at Shale. "Really?"

"Really. She's that strong. She almost killed me four times in as many minutes."

Ghost was not impressed. "Yeah, but you suck."

"I'm tougher than you, squirt," was the calm response.

"How can you say that when you can't even touch me?" ghost asked with a smirk.

This had the feel of routine. I'd better say something or we'll be here all day. "Girls, girls, you're both pretty. Can we move along now?"

I got two glares and one loud sniff, but Shale started off again.

"Now, we're going to reach a clearing. I'd advise you not to stare, or stop. Well, unless you want a fight that you'll probably lose."

Pft, as if. I don't lose. Much. "What against?"

Shale waved the question off. "I wouldn't dream of spoiling the surprise."

A brace of woods not long after led into a glade straight from a picture, or an old movie. Surrounded on all sides by vines that looked like something Maze would have cooked up, the field was bright, sunny, and had a gentle roll to it. The grass was knee high and slightly more yellow than it should have been back home, and the flowers were reds blues and yellows so bright they were almost painful to look at. I could even smell them from here, not that I knew what they were. They smelled nice.

And in the center, frolicking in the sun, actually frolicking if ever I'd seen it - was the largest rabbit I'd ever seen.

It had stark white fur and was staring at a small watch... while it nibbled on a skull. There was blood splattered all over it's red coat. Thankfully the skull wasn't human; one of the deer things, maybe. The top hat on it's head had a hole in it, and was lopsided.

I really wanted to say something... but I also didn't want to gain that thing's attention. The two noticed I'd stopped and turned back.

"Come on you wuss, it's only a bunny."

"Bunny's aren't meat eaters."

The big guy heard me; his ears twitched my way and he turned around. "YOU'RE LATE!"

His voice sounded kind of like a train's whistle if you hit it with a hammer first, and oh my he was fast.

Shale managed to get in gront of me, arms wide, just as I was about to fire. She was facing away from me. "No! She's a guest, not food!"

The rabbit wasn't wearing any pants and was very much a male. I really, really wanted to shoot now. His abrupt stop didn't help matters, nor did the spray of blood out of his mouth as he spoke again. At least it hit Shale and not me.

"A... guest? One that isn't late for lunch?"

"Yes, an honored guest." Shale replied, arms still out and sounding cautious.

The rabbit scuffed a foot against the grass. "Aww, shucks. I'm still hungry, and it's almost tea time."

"I think I saw a Diffyr that way," Ghost said from right next to my ear, and an arm pointed to the right."

In a blink the rabbit was gone. "Thank you kind Ghost, I'll be sure to share!"

This close I heard Ghost's muttered response of: "Please don't."

This called for a drink... but I didn't have one, so I'd have to make do with a joke. "Well, he seemed nice."

Shale turned back and gave me a look, before letting her hands fall. "Sorry, I couldn't let you kill him. Cat likes him, for some reason. I think it's the watch."

Was that a counter joke? There was something here I was meant to understand, but I didn't get whatever it was. I wasn't sure whether to hope it was or wasn't.

"I might like him more if he wore pants." Not like him, but like him more; it was a fine line.

"I know, right?" Ghost sympathized with a shudder.

Not sure how i felt about being on the same page as a crazy witch's familiar either.

"Right, well let's just go before he comes back."

Shale raised a good point there. "Lead on, you know this place."

"Right." She led us out to the trail on the other side. The forest looked dark and spooky on the other side. A little too spooky - as if it was actively trying to scare. Shale proved that to be a bluff by plunging right on in, and I followed;n I wasn't the type to get scared easily. A glance behind me showed Ghost still following, and gray behind all of us, his ship prepped for judgement.

I could feel the four ships just like his, flying overwatch. ?With his guidance, I could torch this forest in less time that it took to think about it.

The trees seemed to lean in and stare at me; I looked right back. I remembered an old saying my mentor told me, from America: 'yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the baddest dude in all creation.'

She told me it was a military thing. It certainly made sense here.

The ground grew swampy for a stretch, the air rank, and the sunlight little more than a fond wish. And then just as suddenly we were out, back into another clearing.

"The dark heart was kind to us today; usually it takes much longer to go through, and things can get interesting."

"Even for you?" I asked. Why not, she was chatty and I was curious.

"Cat doesn't like us getting soft." Ghost replied. I guess that said it all.

"Or bored," Shale added with a shrug, so then again maybe not.

"So what's next?" I was starting to get used to this place.

Shale shared a look with Ghost. "Nothing, the castle is next. It shouldn't take us more than another half an hour to get there. Well, maybe just under an hour, depending on our speed.

That was a hint to pick up the pace; stupid tall people and their stupidly long strides. I started counting down.

We had no further excitement and arrived at the top of the hill the castle was on just over forty minutes later.It was even more imposing up close, and carried the feel of great age, but it wasn't a ruin; the ancient stones were well cared for and carefully kept in place. the iron portcullis showed no rust, and the thick wooden drawbridge didn't so much as creak as we stepped foot on it. I could even smell the pine resin used to keep the wood fresh.

If there was anything marring the image, it was all the bird crap. I almost felt like I needed an umbrella or something.

Ghost nodded along, still getting me. "I know right? Rats with wings; we need to purge this place of them, it really ruins the look."

Just past the wall was a small village, made of small well-made cottages that looked much like the ones I saw in England and France. No wait, there were store fronts mixed in, and that looked like a stable... these were shops and services. Someone was a fan of the old life, or the classics; maybe both.

All of the shops were closed though, and the courtyard was empty. The road was paved from here, and led up to the castle proper. A castle with a very big, very sturdy door made of wood and banded iron. Something that looked more like a medieval safe vault door than something that should grace a house, no matter how big.

The large door swung open as we approached, and a true giant, not just a giant of a man, came out. I don't know how I knew the difference, but I did. He was more than just large, his bone structure looked different, larger in proportion to a human's, and he had a brow you could write a billboard on. His arms were too long, past his hips, and his legs seemed a little short.

He waved a meaty paw at Shale.

"I'm back Ognar, and we have a guest."

Ognar grunted and groaned; Shale pretended like she knew what he said.

"No Ognar, an actual honored guest. Cat herself brought this one in."

Ognar groaned again, and turned around without preamble, leading the way into a very big room which screamed faded glory, with then tattered carpet things and flags lining the walls, the moth-eaten and dirty carpet on the floor, and the broken weapons in display cases.

The broken weapons were old hunter weapons, I was sure. I was also pretty sure I recognized at least two.

There was also more than a few people, or familiars I guess, walking from one hall to the next, or just standing around. They all locked eyes on me the moment I entered, clearly curious. Some few looked past me; Gray was in some danger, here, cloaking device or not.

"Everyone, this is Cat's honored guest, Sasha. Sasha, say hello to everyone. Well, everyone who happens to be here at least."

"Hello." There were fewer than I expected, given the amount of time Cat had been operating. Even if more were around, it seemed I was as far from my estimate of hundreds as I could be. Maybe a hundred, tops? There were only twenty I could sense in the room, and that included Shale and Ghost.

The responses I got back ranged from half-hearted greetings to complete snubbing. I could tell that was just a front though, they all but oozed interest from their pores. Or maybe that one actually did, who could tell with slime?

Shale looked around, at a loss. "It's been at least ten years since we had a guest. You all are boring."

"Shut up, suck up."

Wow, someone was not happy. I turned to the source and found a tall silver haired woman with pointed ears leaning against the wall, her hands fingering a rather elaborate bow that looked to be carved to resemble woven vines. She was dressed in hunter's green, of course, and had one of those glove things on her wrist.

Her face was a pretty one, but it would have been better if it hadn't been set in a permanent glower, as if she'd eaten something sour and the taste never left her.

Shale sighed again; she'd been doing that a lot lately. "Give it a rest, Roth, it's over and done with already."

"You give it a rest, lackey. Some of us have more pride."

"But you still come when called, just like a dog."

Roth bristled at that and her hands twitched on her bow. Some seemed less than happy to be here. I guess I could relate.

"Careful Shale, or I'll show you my bite."

Shale brushed her off. "I've seen it before Roth, and you seem to be forgetting you can't. Something about being told to play nice with others?

The hands clutching the bow were now white knuckled. "I'll...!"

shale turned to me. "That's Rothschild, who seems to forget who owns her now. She's still a little sore over losing her first partner, even though it's been about a hundred years."

A hundred! Cat was older than any of us imagined!

"It was less than ten!" Rothschild screamed, spit flying. Or Shale could be needling the poor familiar, and I had nothing to worry about. I was glad I was far enough away not to get hit with any of that; some were actually hit by the spit, and giving Rothschild some hard stares.

Cat just appeared in front of us. "Getting to know each other? Good! I need to borrow Sasha back though, her friends are waiting for her. Everyone play nice until I return and maybe I'll bring her back!"

"Wait!" someone cried, but there was no waiting; just like that I was somewhere else.

The vertigo hit a moment later, and I fell some distance before just... stopping, while still in the air. I looked quickly; Gray was still with me, he hadn't been left behind.

Then my eyes caught Gloom's.

Gloom looked like hell; or rather, that he'd been through nine kinds of hell. His uniform was in rags, his weapons were missing, and he was one big walking bruise. The area was so trashed, I could only recognize where I was other than somewhere on the outskirts of Central. He was also alone, something that shouldn't have happened.

However, his hair was still perfect.

Oh, shit. He'd fought Cat. He'd clearly fought Cat, and she had been pristine.

"Where... were,,, you? He asked, forcing the words out with a wince.

No hand, don't curl around the back of my head, that's a sign of guilt!

"Um, you'll never believe it?"

It was a travesty, a mockery of justice. Expected, but a mockery all the same: I was under house arrest.

I mean, no one called it that, but I was here, in Central, and not allowed to leave headquarters.

To add insult to injury, Dustin was here, and he was talking.

"The damage in the city doesn't look too extensive."

"She wasn't trying to do more than test us." That was the official line, the one Gloom told me to say. Knowing Cat had attacked hunter HQ just to get my attention and talk to me would likely start a panic... and then a hunt for the wrong witch. But I was sure the entire thing was about me somehow, and I hadn't heard Gloom deny it.

I do wish I knew what Cat said to Gloom during their fight; whatever it was, he was still furious.

"Some test. We beat her back, at least. Gloom is as strong as he ever was."

I wondered. Gloom was impossibly strong, that was fact, but he clearly hadn't been winning. Cat left because she chose to.

"Yeah, I wouldn't call this a win, but it'd be hard to call it a loss."

Dustin nodded along with my words. "Exactly, and almost no collateral at all! A serious blow to her reputation, for sure."

Only Dustin would think about something like that. Cat had gotten whatever it was she wanted out of the attack; but just to talk to me? there had to be something more to all this than that, right? I mean I was pretty amazing and I knew it, but this was a bit much, even for me.

Gray didn't agree; he thought I was the goal, but he wouldn't even guess on why.

"Okay, one gyro from Gespatcho's, with everything, and a side order of chips." My order of a gyro that was bigger than my head and a full bag of freshly fried potato chips was plunked on my lap; the heat already soaking into my legs. Stupid skirt couldn't cover everything."

"Thanks Alicia. Where's Ivan?"

"Still on the beer run, if he's not back." She answered, inhaling some sort of roll or pastry; it was gone too fast to get a good look at what kind of food it was.

My team had decided since I was being kept close for my own protection, they would stay just as close. It wasn't like they didn't have the vacation time banked up. I wonder if I'd ever get to use mine.

Who was I kidding, I was probably getting charged for it now, even though I was still on the clock. Still, the display of teamwork or whatever it was, was touching. I was even touched by Alicia allowing the more responsible one of us to get the booze.

She better not have spit in my food.

A quick scan with my visor revealed she hadn't, and that the meat was pork. Not beef, but it beat rat or dog.

"What was that...?" Dustin asked, looking at me.

I made my visor vanish into my hair; really back into the hairpin that my hat had become. "What was what?"

"That...!"

"Don't worry about it," Alicia interrupted. "She was just making sure I didn't get her something bad out of spite. A prefectly reasonable precaution."

"Really it was making sure you didn't spit in it, but that works too." I took a bite as she shrugged my concern off.

Dustin looked at his own order, a salad. Alicia looked at him and wiggled her eyebrows. Dustin slowly set it down; I knew there was a reason why I liked her.

Ivan came through the door, pulling a full cart behind him. I waited for him to struggle close enough, "About time."

"I know. You'd think the bars around here would be used to us, but somehow it always seems to take them hours to get our orders ready."

We swapped; I handed him his gyro, he handed me a cold beer, and he joined us on the bench.

Dustin made a move for the beer; I hissed at him.

"What the..! are you a snake now?"

"You're going to find out if I bite if you touch that beer. We three kicked in for it, where is your money?"

Dustin tried on a confused look; he didn't quite manage it. "It's just a beer. Surely you three have enough to spot a fellow hunter a beer? Or have you been blowing things up again, Sasha?"

I took the high road. "Get bent, wuss."

"Fine." Dustin said, and thrust a few coins in Ivan's hand - when Ivan felt he had enough he tossed a bottle at the midget.

"So, what's the plan?"

As if I knew. "I get to help Emil recharge generators," I wasn't sure why but there were a lot of Hunters who were coming back low; it wasn't as if there was a witch shortage or anything. "Hopefully Emil will keep his paws to himself."

I really didn't want to be cut open for science.

"Well, we can come along if you like," Ivan offered, taking a long pull. "It's not like we got anything else to do, and Emil can't get us all without one of us nailing him."

Alicia opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Then she opened it again to stuff her face; midway through that she spoke:

"Can we at least finish lunch first?"

"I plan to," I told her. I at least chewed; perhaps I could lead by example or something.

Gray snagged a beer too, but he wasn't opening it. Ivan pointedly ignored what to him was probably a floating beer bottle. Dustin on the other hand did not.

"What the hell!?!"

"It's just Gray, shut up and eat your food."

Dustin did not shut up. "What's he doing?"

That was a good question. "Pouring the beer into his ship, for some reason."

Gray heard me. "I'm analyzing it. I have an analyzer and I'm interested to see what the attraction is."

"He wants to know what beer is made of." I relayed to Ivan.

He shrugged; "That's coming out of your share."

Damn it.

We ate in silence after that, and Ivan's cart got a bit lighter. Gray came over, and I handed him a little gyro; he ate a bite, then took the rest back to his ship to melt it or whatever.

"Alright, quit dragging your feet," Ivan told me. So what if he had finished five minutes ago, and Alicia had finished before him, I wasn't done!

"Fine, fine! bring the cart though," our fellow hunters were eying it, and if we ever got out of Emil's lab, the cart would be long gone.

Who knows? It might even distract the creepy guy, if I threw it at him. But could I do such a thing to poor innocent booze?

I let Ivan lead the way past the giant door and down, where the light struggled to reach. Luckily our goal was the generator room, where the spares and devices not in use were stored. A hunter did not usually give up his generator for any length of time - while it had a charge at least. But down here, mainly because of me, were some special cases.

I just didn't realize how many there were.

Gloom had wanted me to charge 'all the generators down there'. Turns out he packed the racks completely full, floor to ceiling. Right, Gloom wasn't happy with me. Gloom wasn't happy with anyone, really.

Alicia whistled, long and loud.

"Shh, are you crazy?"

Alicia paled. "Right, sorry."

"So, gloom told you to do all these, right? Do you think you can?"

"Yeah... in a year or so. Shouldn't take much longer than that."

"If you exhaust all your energy, it will take two days to fill these." Gray told me; no one else heard it, at least.

I grabbed the first as Ivan closed the door. The clack as he shot the bolt home was loud in the silence.

"Well that will hold Emil for at least five minutes."

"If the sound doesn't draw him."

"What am I, a horror movie killer?" Emil asked, rising up from a large box labeled 'computer parts' like a demented jack in the box.

"Well clearly, yes. What the hell are you even doing there?"

"Sleeping, of course."

Sleeping, under a box. Sure, it made perfect sense, if he was me and didn't want to pay for an inn room somewhere.

Emil brushed the thick dusty out of his hair, sneezed, and kept going. "A little bird informed me you were assigned to help your fellow hunters down here, Sasha. I thought to my self 'self, I don't want to miss this opportunity' and so I decided to wait for you."

Don't ask, don't ask... "How long were you waiting?" Damn it.

"Since last night."

I was afraid of that. Alicia and Ivan finally stopped gaping and closed ranks in front of me. Gray was already there, not that anyone else knew it; his quick reaction was the only reason I hadn't drawn at the first hint of movement. I was sure Emil knew something was up, but he didn't say anything.

Well, about that. he had more important things in mind: "So... anyone got some coffee? Or some water?"

He was out of luck there . "Nope."

He spotted the beer and sighed. "Fine, I guess I'll just use my emergency supply."

Emil opened a dusty old cabinet and removed a glass jar that I was sure held a specimen of some sort earlier in it;s life, chugging down the slightly green tinged liquid without a care. I couldn't stop the shudder, but luckily no one was looking at me.

"What the hell did you just drink?" Alicia asked.

"Hm? Oh that was water," Emil admitted. then he thought better of it. "At least, I think it was. It did have a bit of an aftertaste to it...."

Nasty.

Emile turned to me, wiping his mouth and staining his lab coat in the process. "So - go ahead, don't let me stop you. Do your thing."

"Yeah, right." I started with the first generator in reach; I could already tell that this wouldn't be like last time; I could fill more generators than the last time I tried. Just how many more was the question.

Power poured in until it couldn't take any more and the needle in the gauge was past the F. I was pretty sure that was the first time this particular generator had ever seen that, since I knew who it belonged to and he just wasn't that good, but he wouldn't die because he ran out of juice at least.

I looked up to grab a beer, and found out that a good five minutes had passed.

"Can't you do that sort of thing faster?" Alicia asked me, butt on a desk and feet kicking around. Somehow she made that work, tall as she was.

"Maybe, but I'm trying to pace myself." Not only had I not timed how long it took me to do this the first time, but I was dragging my feet a little - since Emil was just waiting for me to finish for the day. Even pushing power as slowly as this, it wouldn't be long, but there was no reason to rush the running and screaming portion of my day.

Some of the generators were old, older designs with more than a few scars from past battles. most of them were new and untouched. Were some hunters getting a leg up for their first hunt here? That wasn't a good idea; it was important to learn how to track and subdue a witch without the power crutch a generator provided. If you didn't, you'd only learn it later, when it was more likely you'd be facing a Maze or a Cat instead of some new blood.

But it wasn't my place to question Gloom's decisions.

Nothing to do but think while charging generators, and nothing good to think. I was almost starting to think I needed to bring that horror of horrors, a book. I blamed Emil and his constant staring.

Then I had no more juice to give, after just two hours. That left far too much day; at least I managed to top off seven of the things, and I was tired. I wasn't too tired to run though, or to give my team the signal.

I pretended to power another generator while my team plotted our escape. At least, I hoped they were; the only outward sign of anything was Gray dropping his scans and coming over.

"You should not have run yourself completely out of energy; now we are at the mercy of that man." Gray whispered. Right, or to knock me for my actions, that worked too. I couldn't even tell him that the fewer days we did this the better, or Emil would know about him, and the little sneak knew it.

Emil was reading some sort of handwritten note on a scrap of paper he had found somewhere; he looked up from it to meet my eyes. "Oh? You're looking up, does that mean you're done?"

Shit! "Um, no?"

Alicia and Ivan both shrugged as if to say the jig was up, and dove for more beer, the traitors.

Emil hadn't been convinced either. "A sizable number of generators filled - but if you are finished it's time for the examination. As you know the examination of a live, active witch could greatly help our efforts in rehabilitation - or in more final measures. Gloom has informed me personally of your desire to co-operate. It won't even hurt!"

Everybody heard the muttered "much" he tacked onto the end of that.

"Where's Irene? As my doctor, she's required to be present for any and all examinations."

The manic light went out of Emil's eyes... for a moment. Then he opened the cabinet again.

"I knew she was here somewhere!" he exclaimed as Irene fell out.

How had she even managed to get wedged in there? Emil gave her an experimental kick and she groaned. A look up and she unfolded herself like a one of those plants finding the sun, a gleam I didn't like shining in her eyes. Huh - normally Irene is the sane one.

I must have been tired because she was on me faster than I could draw. "There you are, Sasha! time to see if anything's changed!"

She grabbed my hand; the thrown bolt of the door not impeding her in the slightest. I idly wondered who was going to replace that and then we were in her office.

"Honestly Doc, nothing's changed since... well you know."

Irene straightened up her glasses, brushed off her coat, and that was all it took to make her look professional again; it was a nice trick.

"Sasha, I know you mean well, but you're not a doctor. Don't worry, Emil won't be getting in here."

Well it wasn't like the man hadn't seen me before, even as is; I just wanted to avoid any cutting.

Irene threw the bolt on her office door... and then threw the heavy plank across and slid the floor bolt in for good measure. A rather forlorn "but Irene...." sounded from outside over the last loud click.

"But nothing Emil, you heard her! She's mine!"

Irene turned back as if she hadn't just shouted that: "Up on the bed, Sasha."

I hopped up. With nothing to hide there was no reason not to.

Irene started poking and prodding, and I noticed that Gray wasn't here. Dread slithered in me; where had he gone? Had he gotten locked out? Was he okay, or had Emil found him somehow?

No, I had to keep calm. Gray could take care of himself, he was a big boy.

Actually, how old was Gray anyway? Something to ask him later.

"So, hearing any voices yet?" Irene asked idly.

I don't think Irene is cleared. I really should have asked. "I have a familiar, if that's what you're asking."

Not sure why I blurted that right out, but doctor patient priviledge was a thing, right? I mean I couldn't just ask Emil about Dustin's super secret wart problem, not out in the open anyway.

Irene was staring at me, and sliding a foot toward her desk. "I'm fine Doc, and Gloom knows. No need for the panic button or gun or whatever it is."

Irene shrugged and sped up a bit. Reaching her desk, she slowly went for a drawer, an eye on me, and brought out a small plastic box with a handle and a lens... a video camera?

"Does that even work?"

"It does, has batteries and everything. I was saving it for a special occasion; may I?"

"Just understand Doc, I'm not taking my clothes off for that thing." How would she even play the tape back? Didn't you need a television for that? there wasn't one here I could see.

"Oh no, I wouldn't expect you to. Besides, what I want to capture on film is how your clothes changed since your transformation. It may be invaluable."

I looked down at my skirt and shirt. I wasn't in my uniform, since I wasn't actually on duty, so instead I was wearing my comfy clothes. The clothes that were actually a different kind of uniform, if one knew what to look for.

"Right. They just changed."

Irene nodded. "It could lead to valuable insights into yours, and other witch's mental state. I've long theorized that mental stability affects witches."

Was she serious? "That's not exactly the most groundbreaking theory, Doc."

The red light on the camera came on as she huffed out: "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that how stable they are has an effect on how stable their power is."

I thought about that, watching Irene carefully pan her camera over my form. She dictated who she was, who I was, and all the standard stupid info one would expect into the microphone as she did it, so I stayed quiet.

Granted it was hard when she included my measurements; I wanted to ask why future doctors needed those, but I stayed out of it. Then she started asking questions again.

"So, any urge to smash the camera?"

No more than usual; I wasn't a big fan of anything that could be used against me later. "Not really."

"Any urge to commit violence against me for using it?"

"Not really."

She raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question.

"I'm trying to be serious here," I told her.

"I appreciate that, but you sound like you're not telling me everything."

"I am," I told her. "I'm just trying to keep things professional."

She smirked at me. "Don't explode from the pressure."

"Ha. Ha." Why did everyone go for the low comedy around here? Well everyone except me of course.

"Well, that's all I needed," Irene admitted. "Just need you to stand up and summon your hat for me, if you would."

"Fine, I can do that." I stood up and brought my visor out of my hair with a thought. It started giving me Irene's vitals as I looked at her; a sort of turn about. She was fine, all in the green. Just the act of looking out of it was tiring me somehow.

Irene walked around me, camera in hand, silently. I stood still for the minute she took, then she flipped the camera off.

"Alright, that's it. Now I did think ahead; I have a way of sneaking you past Emil."

Oh this I had to see. "How?"

Irene smirked, and moved to the door that was probably a bathroom. Before I could follow she came back with a me.

Or a crude, stuffed doll copy of me. Unless I missed my guess, it even had a copy of the first robe-dress thing I was wearing when Irene last saw me. The big floppy hat was a cheap prop too. She threw it in my arms... was it actually made of straw? The face was a mask, wrapped around something.

Irene looked to me, then the doll. She pinched the waist of the doll in a bit, then nodded to herself. Wait, that was what she needed my measurements for?

I was pretty sure I looked nothing like that. "That's not going to fool him."

Irene smirked. "I bet you it does."

There was no way. "You're on. A booze of choice to the winner."

:"Nah, a steak dinner to the winner."

Oh but she was confident. "Sure."

We shook on it, and I stepped back while Irene pulled out a gurney; one of the foldable types with wheels. She plucked the crude thing from my hands and slammed it down on the gurney, covering the whole thing with a sheet and only allowing the bad wig to show. The wig which wasn't even close to my actual hair color.

"Okay, just wait here. Behind the bed, preferably."

No way, I wasn't about to miss this. I stepped back in the shadow of the door. "I'll get the door."

Irene ever so slowly took the board off - then messed up her hair artfully. "You can do better than that," she whispered. "Tell Ivan to pull Emil off my door."

Emil was up against the door?

I had a better way than violence. Well maybe, violence was still a great way of doing things, but Emil was tough. "Ivan! Beer for Emil!"

Ivan heard me, the bastard. "Emil, some of Sasha's private stash?"

Irene took advantage and flung open the door; pushing the gurney out into the hall so hard it rebounded off the far wall and shrieking like a banshee. "THE DATA IS MINE! FOR SCIENCE!"

I peeked around the corner; the tell-tale smash of a broken bottle made me wince. But it was a worthy sacrifice, because Emil took off after that stupid doll without a second glance at anything else.

"No, don't you dare, Irene! You promised to share!"

Gray was right there, a small camera snapping steadily away.

"Come on, let's go before he figures it out."

I said that loudly enough that anyone in range must have heard it, but Emil just kept going, yelling no at the top of his lungs at the shrinking figure of Irene, who was running flat out for the basement.

Damn, guess I owed Irene that steak after all. "Let's go before he figures it out."

Alicia snorted. "It could be next week, with how clueless he is."

"Yeah but I don't want to chance it." I pounded pavement, and Ivan kept pace.

......

"Well?" Emil asked the light of his life, his partner in crime, as he danced with the doll she had made around the cramped spaces of the dingy poorly lit lab he called his own.

"She didn't react at all to the camera, other than to assure me she wouldn't be undressing for it." Irene answered, looking away as she buffed her nails.

"And the rest?"

"The full battery of tests, X-ray, MRI, and all the rest, all went through. We have some lovely data. She never felt the tech on her."

"Beautiful. From the top, then."

"Grinning, Irene handed off the first of the printouts.