“I don’t understand it, Michael.” A shrill female voice chimed. “I don’t understand what they’re doing.”

“They don’t have to be doing anything. They simply exist,” said a male voice, who was seemingly less than amused by the younger female.

“Then why are we watching them, and not simply killing them now?”

“Because.”

“Because why? You don’t have a reason, do you?” the female voice insisted again.

“Raphael, leave him be. We have a plan,” a gruff male voice scolded the girl.

“I still don’t get it - and I don’t have to like it, Uriel.”

“Fine,” finished the gruff voice. “Just shut up about it then.”

The group of them must have looked more than a little odd standing in the slush on the sidewalk. Muse tilted back to look up at the skyscraper that loomed up over her. Shining glass and metal against the night sky, it was tall enough that it gave the impression that the building was actually curled over her. Even though she had grown up just outside the city, she never got sick of looking up at buildings like that.

The sky was clouded, tinted an orangey-grey by the city lights. It was snowing again. The sound of wet tires through slush was peppered with other familiar city noises - horns, sirens, the beeping of a crossing signal. She had a feeling that there were going to be quite a few more sirens before the night was over. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to be personally responsible for any of them.

“Hey, Muse?”

Muse turned her head to the vampire standing next to her. She noticed that his breath didn’t turn to fog in the cold March air. Of course, hers didn’t either, so who was she to judge?

“Aren’t you cold?”

Looking down at herself, she was wearing what she was always wearing. Fishnet shirt, black tank top, dark blue pants, knee-high boots. Same jewelry. Always. Never changed. Ever. She wasn’t sure why she was constantly stuck in the same outfit. Either because she chose to unconsciously or because she had died in it. Muse hadn’t really figured it all out. “Uh, no.”

“Why not?”

“I’m dead,” was her brilliant reply. She was still reluctant to explain the fact she felt nothing.

“Oh, right. Durr,” Victor snorted and wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. Muse froze a bit at the strange show of affection but reminded himself that the blond was clearly a ladies man and probably thought nothing of it. The vampire continued. “Man, I’m a dumb-ass sometimes.”

“No kidding,” quipped Eric, who was staring down at a large, unusual looking touch-screen tablet in his hands - at least that’s what he called it in the car, anyway, Muse had never seen anything like it - busying himself by poking away at a screen of charts and numbers. Victor opened his mouth to launch a reply at his brother, but was interrupted.

“Not now, please,” Isaac said from where he stood, looking up at the building. Adjusting his glasses with a shove of his ring finger, he continued. “We are here on business, after all.”

“Wait. The guy you’re supposed to off is up there?” Muse pointed, although she wasn’t sure why. She was looking at the back of Isaac’s head.

“CEO’s generally do keep their offices on the top floors of buildings, my dear,” Isaac said thinly without turning around. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small silver pocket watch. Flipping it open, he glanced at the time, shut the watch with a click, and slipped it back into his vest.

Victor desperately tried to suppress a laugh as the ghost made faces at the man behind his back. Muse sighed uselessly. “So we’re going to take down a guy on the top floor. Aren’t they going to notice us? I mean, what’re we going to do, take the elevator?”

“Precisely.” Isaac turned to face them. “I have a meeting with Mr. Brooks to discuss the price on his head. He intends to… ‘negotiate.’ Muse, you and I will attend this meeting. The others will go up using the stairs-“ Isaac shot a look at Eric as he groaned and shut his eyes in dismay at the idea of climbing up that many flights of stairs. “-after-“ Isaac continued with a mildly annoyed tone “-Eric disables the security system.”

Muse looked around her at the other men. Eric was still poking away at the tablet in his hands, biting down on the tip of his tongue lightly. She had figured out that was the tell-tale sign he was concentrating. Victor was trying to use his reflection in a nearby window to adjust his hair. Mal - seemingly completely uninterested in the situation - was picking at his teeth with a fingernail, making loud clicking noises as he did.

Great. This is just great. Off on some murder spree with a bunch of guys who don’t give a crap… I guess it makes sense, they’re ‘professionals.’ How in the hell does this shit happen to me?

“Eighty-seven… eighty-eight… eighty-nine…” Eric counted as they climbed.

“If you don’ stop your damn counting, I am going to bash your head through the god damn wall,” Mal grunted as he followed up behind the group, the two brothers leading the way.

“Can it, steroid bomb, I’m counting for a reason…” Eric murmured and resumed. “Ninety-one, ninety-two..”

“I’m not a steroid bomb, and count in your goddamn head then, twerp,” Mal grumbled again.

Victor felt more than a little glad to not be the focus of the abuse for once. His amusement fading, he looked back at Mal with a serious expression. “Why did Isaac take Muse with him? I don’t get it.” Victor felt kind of disappointed - and didn’t really know quite why. Sure, she was certainly not hard to look at, that helped.

“I dunno, man. Maybe he’s trying to train her. Maybe he’s just keeping’ an eye on her. I mean, this ain’t exactly flipping’ burgers.” The big man’s nearly ever-present smirk faded as Eric continued to count.

“Ninety-seven… ninety-eight..”

“It’s kinda nice to have a chick in the house again. Otherwise, we’re some big freakin’ spooky sausage-fest,” Victor said. “And she’s hot, too. Always a plus.”

“Awww, is fang-face crushing on the ghost?” Mal shoved Victor from the back, making him stumble a step.

“I am not, I’m just saying she’s hot.”

“Yeah, I think you’re crushin’ on Blue.”

“Hundred and ten… hundred eleven..”

“I swear to God, man – you keep counting out loud and I’ll make you eat the next stair.”

“Don’t make me lose count, asshole, or I’ll have to start over!”

“Would you please attempt to carry yourself with some manner of dignity now, Muse?” Isaac asked, stepping out of the elevator without looking at her. She followed close behind him and snapped a salute that he couldn’t see.

“Ja wohl!”

Isaac paused mid-step but quickly resumed. “Thank you.”

Muse looked around and couldn’t help but be in awe of the place - the office screamed ‘money.’ Big money. The floor was wood, stained dark and covered with so much lacquer and polish that she could almost see her reflection in the floor. Everything was shiny for the sake of being shiny.

An expansive marble-topped desk stood to one side. A young woman sat on the other side, looking exactly the way Muse would picture a high-paid secretary. She was pretty, brunette, and wearing a silk blouse that was buttoned enough to be ‘professional’ and yet unbuttoned enough to be ‘frisky.’ Muse watched as the young woman looked up at Isaac. First, a flash of fear, then something else that Muse couldn’t instantly identify crossed the woman’s face.

The woman bit her lower lip and shuffled some papers around on her desk. “You… must be Mr. Ostheim…” With a strange lilt to her voice, the woman looked up at Muse over the frame of her own glasses.

Muse realized what the look was - it was attraction. More precisely, lust. The secretary was both afraid of, and yet attracted to, the tall, dark man in front of her. Muse found that exceedingly funny and had to restrain herself from losing it into a fit of giggles. Girl, if you only knew. Muse had to look away and take a few deep breaths - the old action settling the laugh that threatened to burst loose.

“Uhm…” The brunette shuffled some papers again and looked down at the table, then turned her attention back up to him. “I believe Mr. Brooks requested that you come alone.”

“She is my assistant. That is all. He certainly didn’t expect me to attend a meeting of this magnitude without someone to take notes for me.”

The secretary turned her attention to the man’s ‘assistant.’ The glare that Muse was preparing to bore into the back of Isaac’s head was cut off as the ghost did her best to smile sweetly back at the woman behind the desk. Isaac continued, smiling just barely down at the woman. “We are both unarmed, and it should be fine. Though, I do not fault you for looking out for the interests of your employer. It speaks to your quality of work...” Isaac’s voice had a smooth quality to it that Muse hadn’t heard before.

He’s playing her. Great. Good going Muse, at this rate he might actually be the anti-Christ.

“I… yes, of course.” The brunette was blushing. Muse had to do everything she could not to stick her finger down her throat and yack. The secretary poked a button on the phone next to her and leaned in. “Mr. Brooks? Mr. Ostheim has arrived.”

“Send him in,” came a man’s reply through the speaker.

“Thank you, my dear.” Isaac turned and walked towards the huge set of wooden double doors that dominated one side of the room. Muse walked behind him and couldn’t resist. She looked at the secretary and held out her hands towards Isaac’s backside as he walked, miming squeezing his rear with both hands. She grinned wickedly at the woman’s shocked expression and quickly moved to catch up to the man.

Muse stood next to him as he put his hand on the large brass doorknob. “Very funny,” he said quietly. “But do keep the antics to a minimum.”

“How did you…?”

“I know all,” Isaac said with a surprisingly playful tone.

Muse stood slack-jawed, trying to figure out how he had seen, as Isaac pushed open the large wooden doors and walked inside. She really couldn’t get away with anything, it seemed.

If she thought that the foyer to the top floor was opulent, the man’s office put the rest of the floor to shame. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran along an entire wall of the huge room, showing the city beyond. The floor was the same deep, red wood as outside, but now inlaid with black marble. The black marble was cut into the shape of the company’s logo, an art-deco pair of eagles back to back, perched on top of a globe. She looked up from the floor and around the room. Leather furniture, a bar to one side and doors leading off of the main room, all shut. A large desk sat in front of the huge windows, and its glass top shone in the ‘tasteful’ overhead light.

Muse focused her attention on the man sitting in the high-backed leather chair. He was old, balding, slightly over-weight, and all things considered, completely unremarkable. The most attractive thing about him was his expensive suit. Typical.

The man - Mr. Brooks she assumed - lifted a short, quarter-full glass to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “Ostheim,” he cleared his throat roughly.

She followed behind Isaac as he strode across the floor towards the desk. Isaac smoothly sat down in a leather chair opposite Mr. Brooks, leaving Muse to stand. Awkwardly, she stood next to the chair, not really sure what else to do.

“I told you to come alone, Sorcerer.” Brooks glanced at Muse in a non-too-friendly manner. Muse again offered her best sweet smile. Sorcerer? Is that what Isaac is? I guess that makes sense…

“She is my assistant. I will not argue the subject.”

“Fine. You have unusual tastes in assistants…”

Muse fought the urge to say something.

“I am an unusual man.”

A strange silence overtook the room as the two men sized each other up. Muse was starting to think that the whole thing was one stupid joke, this couldn’t actually be happening. She couldn’t actually be standing here next to some freakish dude in some guy’s office about to watch said dude kill said guy.

Isaac brushed a stray strand of his long black hair out of his face. He steepled his fingers in front of him. “You called this meeting, Mr. Brooks. I believe you are attempting to dissuade me from collecting the rather sizable price on your head.”

The older man snorted. “Please. That bounty isn’t half what I’m worth.”

“So you intend to pay me more to spare you.”

“I intend to do no such thing, Mr. Ostheim.” Taking a slow drink from the glass, he put it back down on the glass-topped desk with a small clink. “The simple matter of the fact is you can’t kill me and you can’t collect the bounty.”

“You are so sure of your own safety, Mr. Brooks?” Isaac’s voice was dark and sharp-edged. She knew that tone of voice. He was getting angry, and Muse was desperately glad that this time the anger wasn’t pointed at her.

“Oh, I’m sure that you could kill me. I’m not an idiot. I know what you are.” Brooks leaned in towards Isaac. “It’s a shame you’ve taken up the business you have, Mr. Ostheim. Selling your secret to immortality - real immortality, not this vampirism business - would be far, far more lucrative…” If Brooks was looking for a response, he got none. Isaac simply sat in silence, unmoving. Brooks growled, seeing he was getting nowhere with the man across from him. A sick, sly smile crawled across his face. “But the fact remains that you won’t kill me, and you can’t collect the reward even if you did. So it’s pointless.”

Muse caught the flicker of movement to her left. She turned and saw something she had never seen before. All living things had an ‘aura’ of sorts - a mild glow of energy. She was looking at… someone’s aura. But there was nobody there. Just the glow itself, a fuzzy bluish almost-person shaped blob near the wall. It wasn’t a ghost, she knew what those looked like. This was… just weird.

“Uh, Isaac?” Muse said, her voice small.

“Yes?”

“I don’t… know… what I’m looking at… but I don’t think we’re alone. It’s this-“ suddenly the blue blob was rushing at them at full speed. “Oh, Christ!” Muse screamed. Isaac stood up, knocking the chair backwards. Flicking his left hand forward, Muse watched agog as the fuzzy shape bounced off of some… invisible wall. The form crashed to the ground, and there, now surrounded by the glow, was a body covered in a collection of black rags.

The figure stood up slowly and turned its hooded face towards them. Its face was covered with a porcelain mask, expressionless and white.

“Hello, Azrael,” Isaac said calmly. “I hate to say I was expecting you. Where is the rest of your family?”

Azrael only slowly tilted its head to one side and leaped at Isaac again. Isaac still held his hand up over Muse’s shoulder. She watched as it - whatever it was - bounced off the wall again. Electricity seemed to rush over its body, and it staggered back. It suddenly vanished from sight - or rather, most of it did. The bluish blob of aura was still there.

“What the-?!” Muse finally found her tongue.

“Its name is Azrael. It can hide its form. Be ever so kind as to keep an eye on its location, as you can see him when we can not. Do you think you could physically restrain it?”

“Do what?!”

Isaac sighed. “We’ll work on that later.” Isaac turned his attention to Brooks, who was also standing and now backed up against one of the windows. “You have done a very, very foolish thing, Sir,” Isaac said softly, oozing venom. “You have sealed your own death… Now I will kill you - simply for fun,” Isaac smirked dangerously. “I will enjoy watching your life end.”

Brooks was shaking visibly but tried to keep his voice defiant. “I doubt it. You’ve been done in, Ostheim. They’ve set you up. There’s no bounty on me, they have your contacts-”

Muse watched as the bluish blob started to move towards the door. She figured she was supposed to follow it. Or… hit it, or something. “Imma… Imma be right back…” Muse vanished and moved, feeling an odd sensation as she passed through whatever had been between them and ‘Azrael.’

“Mother Mary - What the hell?!” Brooks dropped his glass, clattering across the floor, recoiling in shock at her sudden disappearance.

“You’ve played with the wrong kind of people, Mr. Brooks. The worst kind.” Isaac’s threat was hardly thinly veiled.

The blue blob started to rush at Isaac, and Muse appeared suddenly in its path. She didn’t know what else to do. Azrael collided with her, crashing them both over a leather ottoman and onto the ground. Muse was glad she didn’t feel pain, as that probably would have hurt like mad. Muse rolled, trying to pin it to the ground. She suddenly realized she was only holding onto a pile of black rags - nothing but tattered fabric. “This isn’t fair! I was trying!” she yelled to no one in particular.

Muse jumped visibly as the main doors were suddenly kicked in violently, Mal in front, the blonds behind the mountain of muscle.

“Don’t worry baby, once we’re done here, I’ve got all night!” Victor quipped at the secretary still at her desk, walking backwards into the room.

“Cut the routine, twerp,” Mal grumbled and grabbed the vampire by the back of the shirt and threw him towards the room.

Victor skidded to a halt and glared back at the gigantic man. “Whatever, man. There’s nobody even in here.”

“There was.” Muse shook the rags in her hand. Her mind was spinning through what was going on in an attempt to find a solution to what was happening, but none was coming.

The rags apparently meant more to Victor than they did to her. Letting off a small series of colorful swears, he swiveled his head around in a panic. “Crusaders…”

Muse was staring down at the rags in her hand when a door to her left was kicked open.

“You will suffer the wrath of God, heathens! Prepare yourself!”

Muse was convinced she had lost her mind. A maniacal ghost-kidnapping ‘sorcerer,’ a white-faced vanishing rag thing, and now this. Yup. She was officially nuts now.

“Oh, hello, Michael,” Isaac said from where he stood near the desk. “It has been a while. How are you?”

The source of the yelling was a man, now standing in the middle of the room, resplendent in a full suit of armor. An actual honest-to-God suit of armor. The metal was steel, with burnished gold and red in decorative patterns over each plate. The helm on his face was a smooth surface - covered his entire head and removed all features. A gold cross was emblazoned on the front of it, the gold of the cross-beam going across his eyes. He had a gigantic two-handed broadsword that matched his armor.

Muse could only watch uselessly as Victor leaped at Michael, only to have something jabbed into his chest when he got too close. Victor, staggering to the side, looked down to a large metallic cross suddenly sunk a few inches into his chest, point first. “A cross? Dude that’s only a legend. Nice try, but that won’t-“ Victor began to scream and snarled, digging his fingers into the wound and pulling out the cross. He looked down as the metal began hissing against his flesh. He dropped it onto the ground. “Silver?! Ooh, okay douchenozzle… I’m gonna-“ He took a step towards Michael, grunted, and fell to one knee, looking down and seeing two other crosses shoved into his legs.

“I gotcha, Blondie,” Mal grunted and walked around in front of the fallen vampire. “Come ‘ere!” The lumbering tower of muscle charged across the room after the man in the armor. Whoever the man in the armor was, he seemed prepared for Mal. Ducking under one large swing, he used the larger man’s momentum against him, the careful placement of a foot sending Mal crashing through a large wooden table, splinters shooting across the floor. Mal may have all the strength - but this guy seemed to know what he was doing.

Eric ran over to at least help his brother dig out the silver, but was forced to pull back sharply as the armored man’s sword nearly cleaved him in two. The sword missed him, but barely.

“How many times must I lop off your limbs?!” Michael snarled, his voice sounding oddly metallic and hollow behind the helm.

Eric screamed and jumped back, ducking under one of the swings and rather ungracefully running away. Eric pulled a gun out of his belt and fired, the bullets uselessly pinging off of the armor.

“Run not from your fate, coward! Face me!”

“Come now, Michael… would you rather not face a challenge?”

The armored man whirled to face Isaac who standing in the center of the chaos like an uncaring statue. “Any day would I face you, Sorcerer…”

“No time like the present.” Isaac held his hands out to his sides and lightly bowed at the waist.

Michael charged at Isaac, who held out his hand, palm out. The sword impacted the shield with crackling energy, the sword seemingly digging into it. Isaac narrowed his eyes in irritation. Moving his other hand, a burst of green fire launched from Isaac’s palm and hit Michael in the chest, sending him staggering backwards. Michael rubbed a gauntleted hand down the breastplate and laughed behind the helm.

“Fire? When have you used such childish parlor tricks, Isaac?”

“Childish tricks for a childish foe. But if you prefer something more interesting…”

Muse finally dropped the fabric back down to the ground and stepped through the ottoman towards Mal, who was standing up slowly from where he had landed. Suddenly she lurched forward and crashed on the ground. Something had hit her hard from behind. She turned her head to see Azrael now standing behind her. “Okay… neat trick.” She vanished and reappeared standing next to him. Azrael stood up, tilting its head slowly from one side as it watched her like some bizarre animal.

Azrael, apparently deciding she wasn’t a threat, vanished and dashed at Mal. Muse moved to stop him, although how she had no idea. She never had to figure out how, as she wasn’t fast enough. The creepy thing in the black rags appeared suddenly as it leaped through the air and brandished a large curved knife, digging it into the back of Mal’s shoulder. Mal roared as it sliced through flesh. Blood welled in the wound and slowly oozed down his back, staining his white wife-beater a dark red. Swatting his good arm backwards, he sent Azrael crashing into the wall. Mal stood there and struggled to reach behind himself to pull out the knife.

“I got it,” Muse said, trying to be helpful. Doing her best to ignore the man in the armor and his scuffle with Isaac, she ran up behind Mal. Taking hold of the knife in both hands, she pulled. It quickly became obvious that it was a horrid idea, as pain lanced through both of them. Electricity shot through her, and she staggered back. “Mother-“

“Yeah, yeah, it happens…” Mal huffed and tried to pull the knife out, but was only electrocuted again for his trouble.

Muse looked up just in time to see Azrael lift himself from the wall, running at Mal. He was once again invisible except for the weird blue blur. Muse took form at the last second between them, once again putting her body between whatever-it-was and its intended victim. Appearing in front of Azrael, the momentum of his impact sent her staggering backwards into the direct swing of Michael’s sword as it attempted cleave through Isaac’s shield. She pivoted to face the armored man in hopes of stopping the blow, but it happened too quickly. The two-handed broadsword dug straight through her body, going through her shoulder and ending somewhere just at the bottom of her ribcage.

Muse blinked.

Michael stared.

At that moment, the room stopped.

“Howdy,” was all that came out of her mouth. Another pause. “This is awkward.”

“What in God’s name are you?!” Michael asked, flabbergasted.

Taking his opportunity, Isaac thrust his hand out. Muse felt the strangest sensation - like she couldn’t move. Michael was suddenly thrown backwards - with her attached to his sword. She could only watch as Michael impacted one of the large glass windows.

The clear glass went white with a million spidery cracks as the window gave way. Michael fell, tilting back through the empty air as gravity took over. Muse, dragged along, screamed. Fear consumed her as she plummeted towards the ground that was rushing up toward her.

Then the thought hit her.

Wait a minute…

Muse vanished and floated in mid-air, watching the armored man plummet down to the ground. She wondered if it was the proper reaction to laugh or be sick as she saw him hit in the middle of the road, cars swerving and veering around the body. She heard the tell-tale sound of horns and crashing vehicles.

Floating back up and into the room, she took shape and instantly glared at Isaac. The roaring of the wind made it hard to hear, but she wanted to yell at him anyway. “You threw me out a window!”

“No, I threw him out of a window,” Isaac corrected, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief. “You just happened to be attached to him at the time.”

“I- I-” she sputtered. She should have some reason to be angry, but she really didn’t. She really just wanted to be mad. “Fine,” she snapped. “Whatever.” When in doubt, sulk.

Isaac almost looked amused. Stepping over the bloody remains of what was probably a prior Mr. Brooks, Isaac headed to Mal. Gripping the blade still embedded in the back of the bigger man’s shoulder, he tugged. It came out without any protest. Dropping it on the ground, Isaac walked towards the door without a word.

‘Azrael’ was missing. It must have left somehow. Figuring she probably missed it while plummeting out of a window, she thought it best not to bring it up. Victor was being heavily supported by Eric as they all headed for the door - some silent signal that it was time to go.

“Hey, Blue,” Mal said as he twisted his head to look at her, filing out of the room towards the elevator. “Either you’ve got the craziest level of pain tolerance I’ve ever seen… and I owe you a drink of having a set of balls that big… or…”

Muse sighed. “Later, Mal, please?”

Instantly sensing that it was a can of worms he shouldn’t be opening right now, he nodded and rubbed his good hand over his bald head. “Yeah. Later’s good.”

Muse vanished, floating close to the group as they left. A mix of nervous excitement and worry, she felt unsettled about this whole situation. Things had gone from bad, to confusing, to confusing and bad. She had no idea who the creeps in the armor or the black rags were, but she had a horrible feeling she was going to find out whether she liked it or not.

Something told her it wouldn’t be the last time she saw them.