The cold raindrops soaked into Ellen's clothes, the sodden material clinging in patches all over her body. She closed her eyes and let it run down her face, finding it an oddly soothing sensation and offering her serenity amidst the chaos surrounding her.

Her eyes lay ahead on Ranger who was still standing in front her, shifting from foot to foot as if standing on one was painful. He appeared to be nervous; nervous and desperate. Nervous because a battle was just beginning – one which could go down in history books – and desperate because he wanted to live.

No one took Lucien's threats lightly because they knew he was a man of his word. If he said he will take someone's life, he will do it. There was no doubt about it.

Ranger's face was contorted together, the nerves which ran through his face twitching sporadically. He was evidently trying with everything he had to re-establish some sort of connection between himself and one of the new arrivals. If he could generate even the smallest link, he would at least have insight into their enemy's locations and immediate plans. This information may be all they need – the key – to winning this battle, and to progress their power-hungry agenda.

He moved suddenly, his palms flying to his forehead almost comically.

"My Lord!" he called, sounding breathless; the same breathless you would expect from someone who had just finished running a marathon. "One of them has come out of the shield! He's coming towards us now!"

Ellen sucked in her breath, her stomach taking a tumble. Why were they doing this? They were putting themselves in the firing line to get killed!

Her mind raced to Hans and his nobility and selflessness, his tendency to be there for her at all times. She had already dragged him in the labyrinth of Lucien's compound once. She didn't want to be the damsel in distress once again. That wasn't who she was!

The spotlight then moved onto Claudia, the Grand Master that went to all odds to protect her and to mentor her in addition to Hans. Her boldness, her tenacity to fight what was right. The others back at the manor needed her.

And yet here they were, risking everything to come to save her. It made her feel guilty; guiltiness which she didn't want to feel. But then came another thought: she couldn't think of reason why Dvorak would have come for the ride given their last meeting. Unless they required his specialised skills which would be the most logical explanation.

"And who is it?" Lucien asked, the hint of triumph in his voice. Ellen snapped out of her trance, grounding her and bringing her back to reality. The moment was unfolding and it was unfolding quickly. She was powerless and couldn't do anything about it.

Ranger opened his mouth again, his lips parting to say a name which she thought she would never hear.

"It's Dvorak."

Ellen blinked, trying to make sense of it all. Did Dvorak want to complete unfinished business and avenge his children's deaths? Or was it all part of a greater plan?

Lucien himself seemed surprised, almost doing a double take and balking when he had heard the name. She heard him quickly dispel air through his nose; a faint emotion of disbelief.

"And why would he want to do that?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? He's walking up behind you." Ranger reached up with one of his arms and pointed to something behind his superior.

Lucien edged around Ellen, the knife blade still held firmly against her neck. Her face was now between the crooks in his knees, his body acting as a form of shelter from the falling rain. She suddenly realised that she was cold and shivers surged throughout her entire body. They became uncontrollable, like convulsions.

"Dvorak, my dear boy!" he yelled out, his voice echoing in the street and bouncing off the buildings. Immediately, the street seemed to be smaller and more constrained than it actually was. His hands fumbled and added more pressure to the blade. She swallowed as she contended with the thought of her blood being drawn. She heard faint, slow footsteps which grew louder as they approached.

"I'm not your dear boy". There was no mistaking the long drawl and lack of emotion. Dvorak really was here. "I was never your dear boy."

Lucien mocked the man's pain, acting shocked and hurt.

"Well, can't we let bygones be bygones between us? It was only something small. Let's not that ruin things."

"You call killing my children something small?" Dvorak asked. Ellen gave him credit for keeping so calm; so composed. She certainly could have learned from his book if she didn't despise the man as much as she did.

"Now, now. That was a mistake."

"Mistake?" He was still calm but the directness of his words had increased. "A mistake?"

Lucien's grip tightened around the grip once more. "I'm glad we reached an understanding."

There was a growing tension between the two highly-powerful men, a struggle between someone evil and someone good.

"I'll show you a mistake."

Ellen gazed in front her, looking up in time to see Ranger be swept off his feet by an invisible force and slammed into the wall of a nearby building. He slid down the stone bricks, and gathered a heap on the pathway. His body was limp and blood began to flow from his nose. He was lifeless.

Dead.

"Whoops. Sorry for that mistake," apologised Dvorak, oozing with sarcasm. And then he clapped briefly and stopped.

"Have you thought about joining me? You are obviously a man of many talents."

"Join you? Not if my life depended on it."

"Have it your way then," spat Lucien. "Get up," he sneered at Ellen, grabbing her with his free hand. He jerked her by the neck and made her kneel so that she was now facing Dvorak. Her legs started to ache again, the small rocks becoming sharper than ever. They bit at her skin painfully. The older man's eyes met hers and then flicked back to Lucien.

"Dvorak. Now who is laughing?" It was Lucien's turn to laugh now, the shrill noise painful to Ellen's ears. "Do you think you are in a position to say no? Do you?"

His hand gripped on her hair and pulled jerking her head backwards and exposing her neck.

"Two can play this game." The blade travelled around her neck now and then rested on a vein. "All it would take is a small slip and she would die."

Dvorak looked Lucien up and down, his eyes flicking back towards Ellen. He nodded at her – a movement so small it was almost invisible – and then folded his arms. His robes of black and silver were sodden and his hair was plastered downwards but he was still menacing and intimidating. "Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why not?" Lucien tugged on Ellen's hair even more. "I've got what you so desperately want."

"Because," Dvorak replied sharply. "The moment you move, you will die. Checkmate."

And his face broke into a wild, blood-hungry grin.