Chapter Twenty-One

Let all Hell loose

Down into the earth, deeper than you could burrow, past the cold musky dirt and the broiling swells of molten rock, farther still, until you're transported to another place altogether. A realm, the middle plain of mortals was fashioned akin to, a place that the heavens above was designed triplicate and opposite of, there is a world of fire and brimstone. Hell.

No angels glide, through an iridescent heavenly sky, swooping on feathered wing past the glistening crystal towers. Nor skim shimmering expanses of azure water that feed the heavenly plane, gifting life to the abundant silvery flora and fauna. For here, there is no tranquillity.

Here, harpies and leather-winged beasts soar, screeching in turmoil across a blood-shot sky. The sun is all gone, burned away to leave the world cloaked in the half-light of a cracked moon or complete suffocating darkness.

Still, perhaps an optimistic mind might find beauty in the chaos and desolate wastes of the underworld.

There was something awesome about the mountains - fragmented black brimstone, reaching into the smoky air. The descent from their craggy slopes and sheer cliffs dropped amidst crimson pines, eventually spreading flat across scorching planes. Heat billowed upward from the cracked ground. Sulfurous vapours rose from bubbling acidic springs that gave birth to rivers of poison and lakes where gigantic demonic beasts dwelled in their dankest depths. Rows and rows of jagged teeth circled their ever-hungering mouths where many a hellish critter of the waste had met their demise.

Even to demons, the vast wastelands were uninhabitable. The tectonic activity was chaotic, but if that wasn't reason enough to steer clear, the wild creatures that managed to endure there were monstrous things of nightmares. Evolved to destroy and consume more fragile bodies, or inhabit their host's mind and drive them into madness. Torment and blood-shed was the way of things.

In hell, villages were nought, and towns were few but cities heaved. Each centred around a grand structure - a castle or skyscraper. As unfathomable as it may seem, there was a life to be had there, and demonic kin went about their business just as mortals and angelic kind of the other worlds. Though, it was still undoubtedly a place where dishonest and disobedient souls were sent to suffer the punishment fit of their sins. For all were to be judged, and for those found wanting, hell would become their last and eternal destination. Yes, strife and exploitation were commonplace but muddled among the communal emotion of the realm's native inhabitance, there was an air of satisfaction that neared contentment. However, it felt just shy of happiness.

It was ironic to imagine that people could be content to live in hell, but there it was, and it was all thanks to the realm's infamous over-lord who maintained the balance meticulously. The hierarchy was clear and unchallenged though he despised being tarred as a dictator. He took great care over his rule, as much care as his father, above.

He had been cast out for making fair demands, but in his realm, he made certain that all was fair. Justice was entirely subjective, even to the point that his judgment seemed ruthless. There was one cardinal rule; if you were willing to fight for your share, then, by all means, you could obtain it. Conquest, survival of the most cunning, was a way of life. Those who had fought the hardest fight, who had remained loyal at his side during the celestial war, now reaped their reward. High demon's and other fallen angels ruled over the fortress cities under his jurisdiction.

The underworld balanced in the hands of Lucifer Morningstar.

His home territory was the most magnificent of the twelve most significant cities. At the centre of it all sat the proud edifice of Castle Fell. The first construction to be erected once hell had been created. It was built directly below Eden (Where Enoch would later be founded) and Starfall. (The path Lucifer carved through the realms on his descent, wings ablaze as he fell, tearing a scar into the fabric of the universe having been cast out from heaven.)

Fell was similar in its image to that of the Morningstar Palace in Enoch, or rather Morningstar Palace was built in the image of Fell by Lucifer's nephilim ancestors - a homage to their forefather. The obvious difference between the two structures was that the walls of Morningstar were built of shimmering white marble and Arabian sandstone and not the blackest granite and obsidian.

The Morningstar Palace was not the only piece of Lucifer's legacy to reside in the earthly realm; his influence spanned far beyond his hellish prison. For generations, Enoch had been home to celestial kin - the nephilim descendants of angels and demons. However, amidst them, scattered like burned feathers, were fallen angels. Those who had managed to remain earth-side once the celestial war had ceased.

One such warrior had long held sway over the fate of Enoch. Cambria aimed to keep the notorious Morningstar name present on the lips of the earth's celestial's. It was well established that she was as formidable and terrifying as her forebear, as Karou and Warren had already witnessed.

Winter in Enoch was taking a painfully long time to pass! The offseason was the mildest in terms of excitement, and the courtiers were beginning to grow bored. The morale during their Sunday meetings was stagnant, to say the least. Everyone was starting to fear defeat, increasingly mythicals were losing more battles than they were winning, and the end of the conflict seemed to loom on the horizon; its conclusion looked bleaker by the day.

Cambria, however, was honing her final moves, nearing the climax of her carefully strategised plan. This plan had not been formed overnight or come to her in any grand epiphany. Cambria had been anticipating that her time as Enoch's Monarch was nearing its close for nearly half a century. The position had always been just another rung on her ladder. Her journey had much further to go, and she had started to pine after a new adventure.

Seasons came and went with the same predictable forecast until, one summer night, she attended a celebratory gathering. The party was held in celebration of a certain young nephilim's eighteenth birthday. The boy's mother was an ambitious woman. So, knowing that her claim to the Enochian throne was weak, she had married well and combined her blood with another great celestial household; House Fray. The son and heir she'd bore and groomed impressively well into a model leader was the prize of his family and house. Though the boy was green, he had the potential to become a problem for Cambria. If his flattery of the court members proved effective, he stood a chance at knocking the Morningstar House off the top of the power pyramid. Ultimately he threatened to take Enoch for his own.

That was when Cambria had begun to search for an heir to proceed her once she finally abdicated, rather than leave the throne to the usurper of house Fray. After combing through census after census record, she eventually found a descendant of the Morningstar line who held promise. Someone whose youth would play to their advantage. Someone she could tutor and mould into Enoch's prospective new monarch. Karou was the single specimen out of many possibilities who possessed the key; she was a true nephilim.

Cambria knew from the moment that she laid eyes on the girl at the tender age of three that she would one day bear the unmistakble hallmark of nephilim-hood; wings. Aside from that obvious requirement, Karou was far more precious due to her possessing so many of the other less apparent Morningstar traits, more than any of her other descendants. She was almost as purely celestial as her own daughter, Seraphina. Although she took a significant risk in instilling so much hope in one admittedly fragile girl, even if her faith in the girl was misplaced, Cambria never doubted her own power; she was quick on the uptake of a new challenge.

Soon, the final piece of the puzzle, Karou, was to be introduced officially into the fold. The anticipation of how it would stir up the war proceedings was genuinely thrilling. Though Cambria was by far the eldest member of the Enochian court, she possessed an open mind and was keen on progression, traits that few of her fellow courtiers shared. Archaic were their positions and opinions. Oh yes, they were well overdue a shakeup. Karou was the figurehead the Enochian court required to revitalise their faith in house Morningstar's future. She would breathe new life into the city and its people. An ordinary girl whose real-world perspective would bring a healthy dose of reality to the table.

So, that was how a mal-loved and anxious little girl from Concord, Massachusetts became the last trick up the sleeve of Cambria Morningstar.

There was just one problem, Karou had crossed paths with a vampire. A vampire who had tarnished the girl's pure nephilim blood with his races infection.

This particular hitch in the road was causing Cambria great unrest. The last time a vampire had poisoned her bloodline, her own daughter had fallen victim to the charms of the fanged, irksome race. Still, she couldn't be too bitter; Karou's bloodline would have never existed without Lucian Black's interference. Karou was the silver lining to the unexpected birth of Sera and Lucian's daughter, Ophelia. Unfortunately, the faint taint of vampirism in Karou's genetics had somehow led her into the clutches of Warren Howard. Her insatiable curiosity had left her victim to his fangs too.

Cambria had witnessed much of their relationship through the looking runes on Karou's palms, and evidence of their genuine feelings for one another had become glaringly apparent. Despite their feelings being something that each would wish to keep secret from the other, Cambria hoped that that could turn in her favour. If she could get Karou away from Warren before he plucked up the courage to admit just how deeply he had fallen for her, then perhaps she stood a chance at coercing the girl to completely cut ties with her Sire when she finally retrieved her. That way, she would be undistracted by her little sidetrack as she fulfilled her destiny to become Enoch's future Queen.

"It would be totally unreasonable just to remove him from the board," Cambria announced, speaking metaphorically, as she plucked another white pawn from the chessboard.

Enoch's social dry spell had gotten too much. She had opted to take a short respite and fled Enoch to her father's house. Although they didn't always see eye to eye, hell was still her refuge.

For the last two days, she had commandeered her favourite room of Castle Fell; the atrium. The view was irrefutably magnificent to Cambria's mind; the skyscape visible from the copious windows come midnight, when the moon was high, was worth damning one's soul to see.

Sat in the high backed armchair, opposite her worthy opponent, she sipped at her wine and pondered over her strategy. This was their third game, and so far, the first too had illustrated to her that a Queen was no easy thing to obtain.

Just as she tapped the game clock, the doors to the atrium opened wide and a familiar demon made his entrance.

"Seeing is believing. You're a sight for sore eyes." The demon announced.

"If that were true, my dear Levi, religion would have long since fallen flat on its ass." She noted dryly. "Be that as it may, for once, seeing you might actually do me some good."

"I aim to please." A sarcastic grin spread his face as he lounged his six-foot-something frame onto a nearby chaise. Folding his arms over his broad chest convinced his posture of the masculine air his choice of seat had removed momentarily. "So, how might I best serve you, your royal lowliness."

"You have many vamperic kin, do you not?" She enquired, straight to the point, all while she made yet another move on the chessboard. Her black pieces were dwindling.

"Yes. The Dreyri are quite prolific." Lord Leviathan confirmed as he tapped his fingers off his scaled cheekbone as if in thought. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm currently dealing with one of my own. He's rather a thorn in my side." Cambria said before letting go a great sigh with which she attempted to calm her broiling temper; she had just lost yet another match. "Fuck." She spat in defeat as she watched her opponent immediately reset the board.

"You lost?" Levi asked, surprised.

"Yes. Thrice." Cambria admitted she'd gotten over her loss quickly but chose not to participate in another game, leaving the man across from her looking lost. Instead, she turned to the great water demon and asked, "How do you manage them?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're Dreyri sons; how do you deal with them?"

"You're going to skate over the fact that you've just lost a game of strategy to whoever this 'person' is." Levi wafted his hand at the boy who sat perched on a stool across from Cambria wearing nothing but a long reem of white material, fashioned into some sort of wrap about his waist.

"Uck." Cambria scoffed; she hadn't the time or cared to explain herself. "Show him your back." She commanded the boy, who turned obediently. "See, he's freshly shorn."

"Yes, I can see that." Levi eyed over the boy's form, repulsed by the gaping and unhealing golden wounds over his shoulder blades; evidently, his wings had been clipped away. He was newly fallen from heaven. "But why? And more importantly, who is he, or was he?" Regrettably, since he was now fallen, his angelic status meant nothing; he'd have to start from scratch... New name, new life, new friends, new everything.

"He said something out of place about the current earthly war and paid rather a hefty price for it. As for who he was... He was one of the strategists for heaven's army. Hence his chess skills."

Levi was satisfied with the thorough explanation and nodded. "Elohim is up to his old tricks again, I see. Fucking tyrant..." He spat with contempt.

"You can leave now; my practise for today is sufficient." Cambria dismissed him, and quickly he disappeared. "So... Vampires. What do you do with one when it misbehaves?"

"I generally try to ignore them. They're notoriously stubborn, which makes them hard to handle, even harder to manipulate because they're so damned intelligent." He sighed. "But, they are useful when used correctly. They're almost unsurpassable in the effectiveness of their violence. If you require a populous to be brought to their knees on the quiet, forget demons, send vampires, that's what I say."

"Yes, and that's precisely why Warren Howard is causing me such a headache. Either the mortals surrounding his little camp make their move, or I'm going to have to look into hiring a krusnik."

"Good luck finding one that still has an appetite. It's a bloodbath in down there, and the Sakarny are lapping it up."

"Frankly, I can't kill him; he has another role to play. But I do need Karou to not be attached to him, emotionally."

"Ha! Don't tell me another of your precious progeny has succumbed to the charms of a vampire? How madly in love are they?" Levi chortled raucously, but when he noticed the deadly look in Cambria's green, serpentine eyes, his amusement was snuffed out, and his laughter died. "All you need to do is present him with the opportunity to 'wander'. That always breaks their hearts."

"I have..." She admitted through gritted teeth. "She forgave him the moment she felt threatened by Roman Black and ran back to him quivering like a nervous dog." Cambria's disappointment rang through her cruel words.

Levi sighed, which she shared in.

"I hate to admit, but despite him being an obstacle, I find him rather intriguing."

"You're fond of him?" Again, surprise shifted the sea-demons brows high.

"I can see why Karou is. He's wicked and handsome." She disdained that she'd even noticed. "Captivating enough to be considered worthy of her attention. His neglect of her makes her more eager for him. Then he goes and rewards her with fleeting affection, and the circle starts all over again. He knows just how much to hurt her and just how much balm to administer to make it all worthwhile. His game, whether he's aware of it or not, is frustratingly hooking."

"An efficient manipulator then. I'd say you and Karou both are under his spell."

Cambria rolled her eyes; pleasures of the flesh hadn't held any enchantment for her for near a thousand years. But to chase someone's thoughts, to flit about the rat run of someone's mind in a game of cat and mouse what was made her tick these days. And that she had in common with her current obstacle; Warren. "I would wish to obtain him, that's all. To have him as a tool in my arsenal of nasty tricks would bring me great satisfaction, but the fact remains that I do not need him close at hand. I need him to flee this scene so that I can manoeuvre Karou without her being caught up in his strings. I need her free of him so that she can fulfil her potential. Only then will my obligation to Enoch end." She turned the black Queen in her fingers, eyeing it intently.

A heavy coat of fresh snow had fallen the previous night, and though the sun had begun its descent from the centre of the sky, barely one flake had melted in the midday sun. The wind was bitterly cold that day, and as darkness began to fall over the woods, the longest night of the year would soon be upon them.

Somewhere among the tree's, hidden in a shallow bunker, dug out of the cold earth, an ear waited on a whisper. Only once the word had been given, a creature was released from out of the bunker. Over the undisturbed blanket of snow, the four-legged canine padded innocuously towards his mark. In and of himself, he was barely a threat; he was merely bait in a trap. His only mission was to disturb one of the Compounds perimeter sensors. If he performed his task and successfully sounded the alarm within the northwest watchtower, the guards would file out to undertake a perimeter check.

This to and fro of testing the water had been going on for a couple of weeks. Every time the lights on the security consoles began to flash, meaning that a sensor had been triggered he felt a deeper sense of unrest. The mortal militia was getting braver and attempting to draw them out from their hidey-hole. They knew that if a sensor was disturbed that their protocol was to go and investigate. Being the head guard at the northwest gate meant that it was his choice; should he subject he and his men into the unknown and assess the disturbance on the chance that there could be an ambush waiting for them? Ultimately there was only one choice. Duty overrode his fear.

At the southwest gate, a similar decision was being contemplated. Out into the snowy woods, the guards of both the northwest and southwest gates moved out. Brave, regardless of the foreboding that hung heavy in the frosty air.

"Sir, we've got a delivery truck due within the hour."

"Alright, I'll have a road patrol carried out beforehand," Ivan confirmed, and the west gates depot administrator trotted off with his clipboard in hand. "Southwest. Come in. Over." He inquired into his radio. There was no answer. Odd. "Northwest. West here. Come in. Over." No answer came from that gate either. Something was amiss, so Ivan chose to send one of his staff as an envoy to the other gates to assess why there was no answer. Perhaps it was a signal issue.

With no answer from either of the delivery depots bordering gates, a delivery of supplies on the way and the hour dwindling, Ivan had little choice but to charge his guards to move out and carry out their own patrol.

Mere seconds after he'd pulled his gun strap over this shoulder, reading himself to move out, the security console attached to his belt began to flash.

All the many lights on all of the consoles began to flash - every movement sensor around the gate's perimeter had been triggered.

His comrades never heard his loud command, it was lost amidst the chaos of the next few moments.

Simultaneously, in the depths of hell, Cambria's attention was distracted from Leviathan. She noticed the surface of her chessboard begin to morph; it meant that there was something happening in the earthly realm that she needed to see. First, the surface rippled like water, but when Cambria peered down into it, beyond her reflection in the silvery mirror, a scene played out from within.

Her window to the mortal realm showed her a woodland and a tall concrete wall... A wall that she recognised, and then most shockingly, the instant an explosive event blew a hole right through that wall. To follow, a steam of men adorned in black wielded their weapons and infiltrated past the Compound."

She drew back, grinning wickedly while the orange glow of the explosion still reflected in her eyes. "It seems the pieces are falling into place in my favour. I may be rid of Warren Howard sooner than I had anticipated."

"The... The west gates have been breached," Isabel informed him.

"The west gates," He asked, questioning the plural, disbelieving.

"Yes, Sir. All three." The quality of the line wasn't very clear, but he'd heard everything she had said even if she was stifling back frightened tears.

"Shit." The way her words were muffled yet echoed led him to ask, "Where are you now, Isabel?" He asked, using her first name for once.

"We've locked down the main building and the quarter's, Sir. We've no civilian casualties, but the guard's Sir... they're locked out there alone. I don't know any of their status's. The radios are down. What, what are your order's Sir? Warren, we don't know what to do..."

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

Stood stationary in the middle of the dancefloor, Magnus and Karou's eyes were focused on him but they didn't need to ask what had happened; they could tell by his face.

"Are we going back home right now?" Karou asked tentatively.

"I am. You're staying here with Magnus." Warren commanded in a tone that she dared not question.

So as not to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves, Warren had taken her hand and led her away, out of the ballroom. Magnus followed in tow but knew better than to discuss the issue in front of the coven too. Fortunately, Roman was otherwise engaged and hadn't noticed the three's behavioural changes. He just prayed that his other 'eyes' hadn't noticed anything yet. Warren' was thinking along the same lines and said, "Keep Roman off the scent for as long as you can, and don't leave her alone, not for a second. I don't trust him with a single hair on her head."

"Si, that goes without saying, Mijo. Are you sure it's wise to go alone?" Magnus asked as the three of them hurriedly ascended the stairs that led to Warren's room.

Outside the door to his room, now that they were completely alone and Warren's face changed; his courage faltered. "What choice do I have... If I'd stayed-..."

"Don't." Magnus interrupted sternly. "Don't do that. This isn't your fault Warren." He placed a comforting hand into his shoulder, and Warren nodded in agreement.

Inside his room, he went about frantically changing out of his suit. In the rush, he deviated greatly from his usual behaviour and left his shed clothes on the bed untidily. Redressed in dark grey combat pants and a dull white turtle neck sweater - Warren knew he'd have to sneak up on the militia stealthily, and there would be snow on the ground back in Montana, so he'd dressed accordingly. Karou had never seen him wear such clothing. A black duffle coat was donned to cover the otherwise obvious purpose of his clothing. Having stepped towards the door; he made it clear he leaving right that moment to board his jet and go back to the Compound.

Meanwhile, Karou had stood back, looking somewhat lost as her wings quivered about her, despite how they'd wrapped about her arms protectively. "I'm scared for you." Karou piped up, grabbing his upper arm to get his attention. He found her blue eyes glistening and teary. She was already thinking the worse. "What if it's all gone? What if you go now and I never see you again?"

"You've dreamed the end already." Warren took her face between his hand without hesitation. "This isn't how it ends, Karou. Until then, though, wait here with Magnus until it's safe to come home again. Then when the time is right, Cambria will come fetch you. You won't have to feel frightened anymore."

Warren slipped out of the castle at an inconsequential side door, leaving Magnus and Karou behind, but before he closed the door behind him, he pulled Karou in close and set a kiss onto her lips that communicated all of his confused feelings regardless of Magnus' company. "I will see you again." He promised, looking deeply into her eyes. He nodded to Magnus. "I'll be in touch." And then he was gone.

From around a corner, cloaked in shadow, a pair of violet eyes watched Warren's departure curiously.

Ten anxious hours came to pass above the cloudline; while Warren flew back to the US. Back on the ground, he drove from the airstrip to the outskirts of the Compound and abandoned the vehicle to traverse the last part of his journey on foot. Trekking through the thick fog and snow was no feat for a vampire who didn't feel the wintry cold. He shed his black coat to blend in better with his surroundings and infiltrated the militia's camp at gone midnight.

The moon was high, but the tree's offered him a shroud of shadows that he could use to go unnoticed. Picking off the few men that were wandering about alone was easy. He stole the air from their lungs before they could recognise what was happening to them. Fueled by a profound, cold, smouldering rage he was ruthless and chose to fully dispatch his victims. Usually, he'd be satisfied to hear their hearts stop beating, but not this time, the blade he had strapped to his boot came in handy when slitting throats. The snow-covered, frozen ground was soon awash with the blood of his enemies.

Upon withdrawing his blade from the neck of one of his victims, he couldn't resist running his tongue over the blunt edge to sample the bloody harvest of his cull. Warm, mortal and fresh wasn't the brand he was used to these days, and though in this case, his victory tasted salty rather than sweet, it felt triumphant to be on the dealing end of destruction. The vengeance was payment enough.

Come two-thirty, Warren hadn't reached the Compound yet. He figured he'd deal with their aggressors first, eliminate any further threat, before starting the rescue mission.

He was still taking his time and sneaking from tent to tent, dispatching the foot soldiers. When from a shadow, he turned a corner to see a group of four larger tents. He halted and scooped the surrounding area of the camp's headquarters. Tent number one looked like communications, then the mess hall and the two others were enclosed. Those two, in particular, were manned by seven armed guards. He assumed they were where the militia's leader slept and held strategy meetings.

How do you plan to deal with the occupants of the general's tent?

Ridged. His heart skipped a beat in surprise as he heard a familiar voice ring through his mind.

What are you doing here? He asked in return; his tone was sharp to let her know she was unwelcome.

The situation quickly became clear to him - he'd been followed from Blue Ash. In turning around, his blue eyes met her purple ones. Psionic vampires fed on energy rather than blood, unlike their sanguine cousins and Lillianna's eyes gave away her race. The way her irises shimmered silver informed him that his psionic accomplice was freshly fed.

The better question is, why didn't you didn't request the Black Winter's assistance before now and get rid of these insects before they caused you bother? Lillianna rose a blonde brow as she approached him. If it isn't obvious, I'm here to help you.

That sort of retaliation would have been to sever a punishment for their transgressions. This was needn't be anything more than political.

I think they've made it clear that they're not interested in politics Warren. Lillianna rolled her eyes. Fortunately, you've got me here to help you now. My morales don't concern themselves with political ethics and such nonsense.

That's exactly why I don't trust your motives.

Ha! That's rich.

You're helping so I'll owe you.

You already owe me your life, remember? Lilli thought in reference to a close call she'd saved him from back during his time in the Black Winter. I'm not going to beg for your affection Warren. I accept that our timing has never been right. Besides, your charade at the ball made it perfectly clear that you only have eyes for your fledgeling.

Their telepathic conversation was interrupted. They were each distracted by movement in their peripherals - the guards were on the move.

I'll make them docile. You finish them off so I can get inside and deal with the higher-ups. Warren commanded. Once this is done, you have to go back to Blue Ash.

Though Lilli rolled her eyes again, she did as she was told and held back to watch Warren. He reached out his hands towards the seven men with a severe look upon his face as he concentrated on drawing all the air in the vicinity toward himself. Soon enough, the men each reached for their throats, choking, fighting to take in what little air was left until there was no more to share between them. None had had the time or sense to reach for their weapons. There was no air left in their lungs to cry out, and finally, their eyes rolled back, lips blue, as they fell unconscious onto the ground.

Lillianna moved stealthily over the snow and sunk to her knees at the side of each of Warren's victims. One by one cupped their docile faces, and with a beautiful, deadly look in her eyes, she opened her lips to breathe in and draw out what remained of the life energy. Once the last of the light in their eyes extinguished and left her glowing ultraviolet, she stood and turned to Warren, waiting for his following command, obediently.

They'd reached watched each other perform their deadly art with appreciation. Now they stood at the threshold of the leader's tent, and from the inside, they heard a loud snore and smirked.

This should be easy. Warren shrugged.

Sucker sleeps easy, thinking he's already won.

Fool.

Pushing the canvas door aside, they entered. Gathered on either side of the general's bed, Warren watched with a wicked smile upon his face as the silvery aura of his mortal life left his body and flowed towards Lilli's supping lips like a trail of smoke. His hand twitched tighter around the hilt of his blade though he had no intention of using it. With his chosen method, he meant to send a message. So when the man was almost gone, Warren bared his fangs and lunged for his throat to finish him off in a fashion fit of a sanguine vampire.

"They'll send scouts and reinforcements the moment they can't get in touch with this camp." Warren finally spoke now there were no ears to hide from.

"God willing, this should give you enough time to regroup and patch up your defences." Lilli had started in the Compound direction, but Warren hung back warily, hoping him standing still would stop her in her tracks. "In the meantime, why don't you send the most vulnerable to Blue Ash? They can shelter there if it's temporary."

"I can't do that."

"Roman isn't so misunderstanding to turn away his people when they need him, Warren."

"They aren't his people, Lilli. They're mine."

"Put your ego aside, Charles!"

"You don't understand!" He spat back. How was he supposed to explain that the whole time he'd lied about who he'd housed in the Compound? Sure, he'd funded the majority of its construction himself, but still, he had taken funds from the Davikov, from Roman, having given the impression that he'd use the Compounds resources to exclusively aid vampires.

Despite how well fed he was, the dead look in his eyes disturbed Lillianna.

"You're always hiding something. Even now, you can't be honest. What secret are you keeping this time, Warren?" Lillianna said before she took off at full tilt over the snow towards the Compound.

"Lilli, wait!" Warren was on her tail in a second. Damn, I forgot how fast she was.

Lightfooted and rapidly, she made it to the delivery depot to witness the destruction ahead of Warren. A gaping hole of crumbled concrete had been the point of entry for the mortals. While assessing the scene, her ears pricked; she heard voices. Ground to a halt, she pressed her back to the wall and peered around it cautiously. Three unknown men were going about some battlefield clean up, finishing off the wounded that laid thick over the ground.

Warren could smell the blood bath before he arrived, and though he was charging in headlong, Lillianna grabbed his arm and pulled him into her cover before he could reveal their position. Whether he liked it or not, he found himself pinned back to the wall by her slender body. Peering around his shoulder, Lillianna carried on watching - she didn't know if the men she'd spied were friend or foe, considering one of them appeared to be a lycanthrope.

At close quarters, she eyed Warren suspiciously, Either the militia is using myths against myths, which I doubt, or the dog is with you, and you've got a lot of explaining to do.