[u][i]Reginald Hoyle[/i][/u]

Whatever the vampiress had done to him had cut through the fog of pain, and had allowed Reginald Hoyle to come into the present. The trip upon Atticus’ back had been rough, but at least now, as he was being pulled across the floor, he could see Aislinn, Victoria, Thad, and Archibald. The shade gate ahead of them was an ethereal beacon of safety, and for the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, Hoyle felt like they would all make it out.

That notion was shattered almost as quickly as it had come into his mind. The magic of Thad had revealed the white wolf, and before a cry of warning could pass his lips, the assassin’s sword was already buried into Aislinn’s back. 

“No!” The old wolf’s cry of warning turned to one of terror, rage, and disbelief. 

With a burst of strength, Hoyle thrust up with his good leg, and batted Atticus’ grip away with a black-clawed hand. He stumbled towards the crumpled forms of Aislinn and Veti. He watched with impotent rage as the white wolf disappeared through the shade gate, and he cried out as he collapsed upon leaden feet. 

As he lay there, tears began to stream down his muzzle, pooling upon the stone floor. The great old wolf was an island then, a man lost in his own ocean of despair as life drained from Aislinn, and clung only barely to Veti. He watched as the sorcerer closed his sister’s eyes, and ministered to his love. 

Lost to his senses was the curse of the wight, the flashing form of the vampiress, and the cacophony of all the other responses to the white wolf’s handiwork. For a moment lost in time, Reginald Hoyle only knew the depths of a heart riven with guilt, hatred, and misery. He was the last of them. The last of the Teachglach Mac Tire. The last of the Hoyles. 

Wracked with silent sobs, he rolled onto his back, and with the greatest of breaths he howled. With all his might he howled, and for the first time in all the centuries of his life he howled with the promise of vengeance. 

---

[u][i]Atticus[/i][/u]

Before he knew what was happening Reginald Hoyle had forced himself from his grasp. Atticus spun about to follow the werewolf, and as he did he saw what had spurned Hoyle forward. The white wolf was just pulling the blade from Aislinn and Veti. He comprehended what was happening, but it all happened so fast that his realization translated only to stunned silence for the bare seconds it took for the white wolf to flee. 

Instinctively, Atticus’ wings opened to give chase as the assassin fled through the shade gate, and he came more to his senses. His infernal eyes caught the blur of Siya disappearing into the gate after that attacker, and in that moment of confusion, Atticus spirit was buoyed. If anyone could catch the bastard now, it was her. He wanted to follow the vampire immediately, but he was stayed by the gravity of Veti’s wounds, and the obvious aftermath of Aislinn Hoyle’s death. The eerie and spirit-splitting howl of Reginald Hoyle reminded him as well that the old wolf himself still needed tending to. For now, he would have to trust that Siya could take care of herself. 

Atticus thought to move to Reginald’s aid, but Lord Bain was already at his ailing friend’s side. The ancient vampire held up a hand to the incubus.

“Through the gate, all of you,” Bain said, loud enough for all to hear. “Retrieve the tooth, and stop Ragnarök. I will stay with Hoyle. We will join you when we can. Go!”

A protest was the first thing to form on Atticus’ lips, and for an instant he caught the eye of Thad. The man held Veti protectively in his arms, and though she was still in the clutches of pain, he could see that death was not going to take her this day. He closed his mouth. Atticus knew Bain was right; they had to press onward. The enemy now had the upper hand, and time was against them. 

With a grim set to his jaw, Atticus turned to the others. “Let’s go.”

His words were punctuated by a series of tremors from the battle raging above. Clouds of dust rained down from the low ceiling. Nodding to Thad, Atticus leapt forward and thrust into flight with a great beat of his wings. In an instant he was through the shade gate, trusting that the others would be close on his heels. 

As he glided instantaneously through the void, and onto the other side of the gate, Atticus was surprised. The stone circle of Ardgroom, Ireland--the place where this tragic tale had begun--was the last place he expected to emerge. 

The sight of Siya standing amidst the circle was a welcome relief however, and he alighted beside the enraged little vampire. 

“Are you alright?” He said, his burning eyes scanning through the darkness for any injury upon her body. Seeing nothing obviously wrong, he added, “Bain instructed us through the gate, and as far as I can tell, Veti should be fine. Thad came through for her, once again.”