Kennedy nodded as she was given her task. It made the most sense that she gather the evidence. She dealt with cops before and could probably negotiate her way around any red tape that may come up. Procedure dictated that her personal belongings be given to the next of kin, which she assumed was her sister, though she was in no position to be doing so. It would probably hurt more. No, those belongings would be a helpful clue.

As she closed her laptop and stood up, she watched the others leave. She didn't have much to say about most of them just yet. She was the newbie, after all. It wouldn't sit well if she judged them without getting to know them. Well, apart from Manny who she had run into before all of this. He gave her the distinct impression he was up to no good. Given their work, she was partially right.

As she finished packing up her things, Malone walked up to her. "Sure, I got some time." She listened to the woman speak, taking in her request. It seems she wanted the file on the cult that Ellie mentioned. Time was of the essence so she understood the need to get it ASAP. So not only would she need to finesse the belongings from the police, but now she was being asked to wheel and deal with the feds. She felt useful, that was for sure.

"I think I can do that. I have a contact or two that could help. I'll give them a call when I get into my office and I'll let you know." She gave the woman a warm smile before she picked up her purse and made way for her office. On the way there, she passed by Manny's office, seeing him sitting at his desk in his disorganized room. She eyed the books all around him with a sense of pity. "No wonder they're such a mess.." she thought to herself.

She made it into her office, setting her things down. She had some calls to make.

She first called her FBI contact. Jeremy had been a good friend to her in her Washington outings and he was a big wig in the FBI. "Hey Jeremy, it's Kennedy. Yeah, long time no talk. How's the wife? Second kid? Wow, you're busy. Work going ok? Yeah, I still work in law." She wasn't necessarily lying. "Anyway, the reason I'm calling is that I have a favor. Yeah, I know, haven't spoken to you in years and I call wanting something. I'll make it up to you. You know that donut place you love so much? How about a dozen of the chocolate glazed? Yeah, I know the way to your heart, your wife should watch out. Anyway, back to business. There's a file I need to see ASAP. It involves a cult known as the Lachallan Society. Yes, weird name. Yes, I know it's probably classified, but I'm working a case that closely relates to this cult so any information I can get on them would be useful. I'm leaving for Portland later so if you can email it that would be great. Yep, the secure e-mail is preferred. No wandering eyes as it were. You're the best Jeremy, say hi to Maddie and little Ethan for me. Bye." She hung up and let out a deep sigh.

She picked up the phone again but set it down. No, it would be best to do it in person with the sister. Instead, she made the necessary accommodations to make sure she could bring all she needed. Her laptop, her files, and her weapon. She hadn't needed to use it, but if they were about to delve into some supernatural mystery with some cult, protection was key.

Business class, Morgan thought, I wonder if she’ll ever realize that trains exist. Then again, she had to admit that putting the crew in a confined space with the general public had never worked out all that well. Maybe the idea of a plane wasn’t so bad. Closer quarters, but much less time spent there, and the endless droning of the engines might distract everyone enough to make the trip bearable. On the other hand, if something did happen…well, at least trains weren’t so high off the ground.

She shook her head and stood, watching the others do the same. Long practice had prepared her for trips like this - she had little to gather, and what she did have could wait a few minutes. Morgan’s eyes tracked Cassandra’s path out of the room, Malone following after a moment. Her loss and pain, bewilderment, her anger and need to do something, anything, even if it was to engage what were obviously a bunch of charlatans, were written in every stiff-legged step, every brittle movement past a piece of furniture. Morgan blew out a sigh - this woman had nothing to hide, and somehow that made everything that much worse.

Tragellan’s voice interrupted Morgan’s thoughts halfway out of her chair. She finished standing and turned, eyes carefully not meeting the other woman’s. Again, she couldn’t help but notice the spots of color on her cheeks, the way her pupils were open further than they should be, and even that awareness washed through Morgan in an almost dizzying wave. She closed her eyes, cleared her throat, and followed Kennedy around the table, moving soundlessly.

“You may wish to be careful with that kind of request,” Morgan said, coming close to Tragellan, “If she were…twisted far enough, what’s left of Ms. Holt may not be something whose attention you want.” She cleared her throat, took a long breath, “What can I do for you, Eleanor?”

Ellie nodded to Morgan and gestured Kennedy back. The medium gave her a confused look but stepped away from the older woman, leaving the two of them in at least the semblance of privacy. Ellie’s eyes slid over Morgan and she struggled to bring herself to complete focus a slight shiver ran down her but then her body stilled. Holding up a slender hand she crooked a finger beckoning the younger woman close. Morgan smelled faintly of some exotic spice which could not be readily identified. It hung in the air like the whisper of a distant grove, familiar yet elusive. Ellie forced her nostrils not to flare. Inside her pocket she traced a miniscule circle with her index finger and then released her will. Magic surged through her, the raw energy of creation channeled by human will into a useful form as around them a ward sprung up. The ward was one of a series of prepared spells which Ellie used without the need of lengthy incantations or rituals. It was a simple enough thing in all truth, it simply made Morgan and Ellie very uninteresting. In theory everyone in the room could see and hear them, but their conscious minds would dismiss the too women as unimportant resulting in practical invisibility and near perfect privacy. It wasn’t necessarily that Ellie didn’t trust her team, but there were things that were dangerous to even think about if you didn’t take precautions.

“This cult you mentioned, it wasn’t…” she trailed of seeking a proper key word that they could both reference, “Not the Sleeping or the Black Pyramid?” The words themselves buzzed against her mental defences trying to sleep free into the magical ether.

“I don’t read any geas on the client, but do we need to take steps to protect the others?”

One of Morgan's dark eyebrows rose in a delicate arch, "Now that you mention it, they weren't all that far off. The Lachallan Society was something...different, though. More ambition than the former, more subtlety than the latter, but no less dangerous. Something gave the Society...well, if not the same kind of power that the Pyramid had, the same depth." She sighed, "I would say that it's been so long since then, but what's time to an immortal, hm?"

Truth to tell, Morgan had no idea if she really was immortal. Time seemed to lay a light finger on her, if it touched her at all, and the face that looked back in the mirror was one that had remained substantially similar for almost a century. She had seen friends grow old and wither and pass, and each one had taken at least one secret with them beyond. Still, she had no answer to her own question.

"We'll want to do something for Malone," Morgan said after a moment, "Leon, too. If something grabbed him by the brain, he'd be dangerous. There's no sense in excluding the others, but I don't know how much time you want to spend enchanting earrings and pendants."

She smirked, the faint tug of one side of her lips, "And what about you, Eleanor? You're distracted, yes? Exciting evening after the morgue?" She managed, with difficulty, to refrain from making an "eros and thanatos" quip, but she watched Tragellan carefully all the same.

One of Ellie’s sculpted eyebrows rose archly at that. Despite her best efforts a little colour crept into her cheeks. Morgan had a way of getting under her skin and in a way that was maddeningly difficult to define.

“Oh you would be surprised,” Ellie said, keeping her tone deliberately amused and drawing a curtain over the matter.

“If this Cult worshiped or had some connection to the Elder Gods, that would explain some things. They always seem to survive, like cockroaches. I can probably handle things on the Thaumaturgical end. If we do end up needing talismans… well we can burn that bridge when we get to it.”

She quirked her little finger inside her pocket and shivered with faint pleasure as the ward she had so subtlety constructed faded to a prickly sensation in the back of her throat. Ellie glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how long it would take to reach the airport. Tempus Fugit and all that.

Manny slipped his feet off his work desk, still eyeing the Grimoire of the Order of the Golden Dawn as he pushed himself up with casual ease, not even gripping his chair legs as he did so. Taking one last sip of coffee, he headed out of the hallway, slipping past people without even placing his eyes on them, gaze still firmly on the open Grimoire. This book would be hard to find for someone not used to occult, but with it, a common man could easily perform one of the less powerful enchantments and rituals.

He slid into the room with Ellie and Morgan just as their concealment spell had finished. "Think I might have found something." He said to them aloud. "Been delving through some of my old reading lists and this here-" That was when he looked up. Manny wasn't exactly the social type, but with his detective skills, he deduced something was happening according to the blush on Ellie and the ever sensual Morgan and her eye catching movements. He raised an eyebrow, but decided to say nothing about the question forming in his mind just yet.

Manny gave a slight knock on the door frame to grab their attentions, before giving brief explanation on what he had found, pertaining to the ritual he had discovered in the Grimoire of the Order of the Golden Dawn. "So, a few google searches and a special order, along with some very odd ingredients, and her boyfriend could have thought it might be neat to play witch doctor and kill Cassandra that way, leaving no real trace."

He ended his statement by one-handed closing the book with a 'thump.' "So unless you gals found out something I didn't, I suggest we find the boyfriend and check out his credit card bills or computer history somehow. Or question him, but that might lead nowhere..." Manny shrugged, and just before he was about to head out, he turned back to them.

A few minutes ago, he'd just gotten off the phone with Mark Haltenburg, someone he went to the academy with before he dropped out. He found him working in one of the local precincts in Maine and decided to call him up, get a friendly scope on the area. Thankfully, detectives were well connected. "By the way, once we get to Maine, we got two rental cars waiting for us. Got a cheap deal from an old friend."

Malone nodded her gratitude at Kennedy after she'd agreed to help with the case file on the cult. She exited the meeting room and entered the large room that contained the individual work spaces of her teammates. The desks were partitioned off in a sort of booth style, with half walls that created the illusion of seclusion. The ex-FBI walked over to her desk where she'd dumped her bag. She opened it and fished out a fresh T-shirt. Stripping off the tear-soaked one she folded it neatly and stored it in one of her drawers to collect after their trip.


She shrugged on the fresh one and then proceeded to strap her shoulder holster for her main sidearm, her P99. Her Walthers were licensed and Ellie would make sure she could get aboard the plane with them on her person.

Once her wardrobe was taken care of, she sat in her chair and fished her phone out of her pocket. She needed to call Mrs. Flaherty and warn her she would definitely be away at least a couple of days. The old woman loved Isis and didn't mind taking care of her. Plus she tended to mother Malone and liked doing favors for her. Like bringing her homemade brownies, or shepherd's pie, or anything food related. She insisted Malone was too thin. And the profiler had to admit she'd lost a couple of pounds after her mum's death, but it only served to make her muscle definition more pronounced. She didn't care. She ate enough in her opinion. She wasn't starving herself. Food just didn't taste good yet. And eating out of obligation is never fun.

She dialed Mrs. Flaherty's number and waited. The old woman picked up after a couple of rings.

"Hello, dear." She answered the phone and Malone couldn't help but smile. The woman was unusually tech savvy for someone her age.

"Hi, Mrs. F." She greeted with a grin. "I'm just calling to let you know that I'll definitely be away for a couple of days. I don't know how many. So I've left Isis to take care of you."

"Oh, ye cheeky devil. Isis taking care of me. Funny." But the old woman was happy that at least with her Malone was exhibiting brighter moods like making jokes, smiling, and on rare occasions even laughing. She often worried over how dark her outlook was. But she supposed her mother's parting was still fresh in the young woman's mind and heart. But she was getting better that was for sure. "I'll take care of your little angel, don't you worry about that." She assured. "You just make sure yer eatin' right!" She warned. "Yer too thin."

Malone chuckled quietly at the familiar remark. "Aye, mem. I'll be sure to eat three healthy meals a day."

They hung up.

---

Boarding the plane had been a hassle, but Malone had suffered through it. She was sitting comfortably in her seat in business class. Her bag and jacket stowed away in the overhead compartment. She had her laptop on the table, her phone out and her headphones in her ears. She'd paired her phone to her laptop to use the more sophisticated audio player there to listen through all the voice mails she'd gotten from their client. Of course both her laptop and her phone were on airplane mode. And she was waiting for the plane to take off to begin work. She shifted in the seat and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. She was sleepy as hell from being made to wake up so early in the morning. But her mind was anything but asleep. In her current state she could easily slip into the Zone. But it would serve no purpose. They had no real leads to follow at this point. Just conjecture to go on the hunt for clues. So she just let her mind rest for the few minutes the cabin crew performed their security checks and whatnot.

Her stomach tightened when she felt the plane moving towards the runway. She loved the feeling she got during takeoff. Her back pressed to the seat from the speed and her belly all tingly when she felt the plane peel off the ground. It was her favorite time when flying so she made sure to enjoy it the fullest. As soon as the pilot announced they could use their electronics she straightened and opened her laptop. She listened through all the erratic voice mails again. And then selected a few Madeline had sent her from before her sister's erratic behavior.

'Hi, Mel. God, I wish I'd caught you. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm... Well, not okay, but hanging in there.' A sniffling could be heard over the line and then the young woman obviously made an effort to pull herself together and the recording continued. 'I'm still looking for a job, but I'm not quitting. I like it here. I wish you could come and visit...' Her voice trailed off again. There was a short pause. Malone could vaguely make out some ambient noises and then Cassie spoke again. 'I know you didn't like him and you'd never say I told you so, but, God, I wish this time you could have been wrong. I love you. Please, call me. I just need to hear your voice.'

Malone exhaled quietly. This appeared to be from the time immediately after Cassie's brake up with her boyfriend. She could tell there was obviously some tension between the sisters because of the boyfriend, but nothing major. She didn't sense a huge rift between them over it. Just a sort of reluctant acceptance on Cassie's part that her sister was right about him. But she had sounded determine to turn it around and move on.

'Hi, sis. Sorry I missed your call. The new job is trying to kick my butt, but I'm not letting it.' Happy laughter flowed from Malone's headphones into her ears. It wasn't forced or fake. Just genuine, happy laughter. 'Anyway, I'm doing better now that I have something to distract me from wallowing. And I think I've finally managed to see what you saw in him. God were you ever right! I don't know why I was so blinded. Thank God you're always there for me. I can't believe I fell for that possessive freak. Or that I could have thought it was adorable he wanted me all to himself. Anyway, that’s over and done with now. Hope to hear from you soon. Love ya.' This voice mail was more exuberant and energetic than the previous one. Malone could feel the renewed energy coming off from Cassandra. The fact that she could admit to herself she was wrong about her boyfriend showed stable mind that engaged in self-reflection and self-assessment. Nothing erratic about that. Quite healthy actually.

Malone queued the third and last mail. 'Oh... My... God! Mel! I have the biggest news. And you're not picking up! I made some friends, Mel. And I don't mean the casual acquaintances from work. Real, honest to God, friends! I'm so excited. They're a strange bunch but not bad people, I promise. This time I'm right, you'll see. Just come and visit finally so I can introduce you and you'll see. Love ya. They're so cool, you'll see.' Malone stopped the recording. This mail sounded even more exuberant that the previous one. Maybe even too exuberant. It wasn't unusual for people to feel high from finding a group of people where they fit. Especially after a hard period like a break up could be. But still, going from extreme lows to extreme highs wasn't always a good thing. Malone suspected these new friends were the group Madeline mentioned.

It appeared that in the beginning, at least, Cassie felt safe within their circle. Safe and happy even. Even if too happy. She could have been overcompensating, but Malone couldn't know that for sure without further data. But all in all she could at least determine she was not suicidal prior to her death. Not according to what she heard in the voice mails. She typed a preliminary report, reviewed it and sent it to Ellie.

The ex-FBI agent closed her laptop, opened the Spotify app on her phone, browsed through her playlists, found the 'Celtic Music' one and tapped the 'Shuffle Play' button. She closed her eyes and settled comfortably in her seat. When The Parting Glass played in her ears she smiled softly and couldn't help but sing along quietly.

American Airlines flight 1733 thumped ungraciously down onto the tarmac of the grandly named Portland International Jetport. It was a new building, as American infrastructure went, brand new, but its presence on a drizzly fall day was not impressive. Three or four long runways, with taxi ways connecting them like capillaries to veins, carrying the little blood cells too and fro in the vast body of American society. The jolt of the earth thrusting up through the landing strut jolted Ellie awake and spilled the forgettable paperback romance from her fingers to the floor in a flutter of pages. Ellie stared disapprovingly down at the book she had fallen asleep reading, she weighed the cost of finding her place again against the probable loss of not knowing how the improbably shirtless Lord So-and-So and Suburban-housewife-stand-in ended up riding off into the sunset together. Deciding the information was unlikely to enrich her life, she left the paperback where it lay.

It was mid afternoon and the last of the early flights were touching down, in preparation for a second surge later in the evening. The concourse was thronged as the group descended the stairs and headed for baggage claim. Due to a combination of careful preparation and a few concealing enchantments, it hadn’t been an issue to bring weapons and equipment, regardless of how questionable it might be for a TSA inspector. Ellie pulled her own travel case, containing her handgun and other, more esoteric, tools from the slowly rotating carousel.

“I should have come to see her, she would have been here to meet me,” Madeline Holt said, a stricken expression contorting her face. The woman was dressed in comfortable traveling clothes, though her heavy jacket seemed excessive for the mild chill. Ellie felt a slight twing of… something as the woman spoke and cast an eye towards Leon. He didn’t appear to be doing anything active, but then it was hard to tell with his strange breed of totemic magic. Ellie didn’t trust other schools of the Art, intellectually she knew that didn’t make sense but no one who wielded arcane power wanted to believe that their were other avenues of understanding that were closed to them.

“You couldn’t have known what she was getting into,” Ellie said, reasonably, diplomatically, trying to calm her client down. The very last thing they needed was a hysterical and bereaved relative along for the ride, but Madeline had insisted, and she was paying. Also it was undeniably true that having the blood of one of the victims relatives was handy, although Ellie would rather have that in a biohazard bag in her case, than walking around beside her.

“I should have come!” Madeline snapped, apparently in no mood to be consoled. Ellie looked hopefully around her team for someone to pawn Madeline off on while she got on with the real work, but miraculously everyone had their head down in their own affairs. Sighing inwardly, Ellie wondered where she had left her aspirin.

Several floors above the baggage carousel a nondescript man in his late forties knelt in a chalk pentacle. The storage closet was only just large enough for the purpose, but it was out of the way and had been vouchsafed by a TSA officer who was a member of the congregation. The pentacle was of an unusual design, lacking the usual symmetry and stained in places with blood. A thick book, leather bound and printed sat in the center of the design as did an android smartphone, connected to the circle by two lengths of copper wire that were anchored into the bloody spots with adhesive putty.

“It is as you foretold,” the man said as he drew his mystical sight back up through the layers of concrete and steel, “The sister has returned, and she has brought allies.”

“Who?” the voice on the other end demanded, the speakerphone rendering his voice distorted and colorless in a way the watcher knew that it was not in truth.

“I do not recognise them, and I dare not look closer, on of them is as the Witch of Endor, she might sense my gaze were I to pry futher.” The speaker sweated through long heartbeats of silence, fearing he had displeased his master with his cowardice.

“The others?” the voice asked, chill but not in a cold killing rage.

“Uncertain master, shall I…”

“No we will use conventional means, return home at once that I may see your mind more clearly,” the disembodied voice commanded.

“These new comers are a complication and we are too far along to allow for complications.” There was a finality to the words that would have chilled the blood of a listener, had the listener still been human enough to fear anything other than his master.

Privileged Information:

Leon sat still as stone in his seat. A pair of sound canceling headphones over his ears, his aviators shielding his eyes, and his trench coat pulled up over his chin left him blissfully unaware of the order to disembark. It wasn’t until a stewardess tapped him on the shoulder that he emerged. Leon slowly pulled back his headphones and lowered his glasses.

“Sir, are you alright? The passengers are disembarking.”

“I’m fine, just not a fan of planes. Well… more so planes with other people.” Leon sighed getting up.

Leon grabbed his bag and started shuffling up to the exit. Even with most of his senses blocked out a crowded small space was havoc for him. Even if there wasn’t anything paranormal he had a nasty habit of looking for it even if it wasn’t there. Nowadays Leon reserved himself to quiet thought while cutting off the outside world when traveling.

Thankfully the Portland jetport was quite a bit smaller than Chicago’s. Leon moved along at a slow, but steady pace as he woke himself back up. He grabbed his duffle bag and double checked that everything was intact. The totems were fairly strong and packed between clothes, but a good shaman always tends his tools.

As quickly as his mood was improving it was ruined. He couldn’t help but sigh when he spotted the client here. The last thing they needed was a civilian with no clue what was going on. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if this was something simple like a small monstrosity or something else that dies quickly to bullets, but no, mind-warping terrors of the beyond were more likely right now.

It was almost the same moment that E set her eyes on Leon. He furrowed his brow. Clearly, she was looking at him, but there was something else too. Another set of eyes? A quick sweep of peripheral vision showed nothing. Reaching up to his neck Leon ‘accidently’ knocked his headphones off. Turning quickly he scanned the area behind him before snatching up his belonging. Nothing obvious.

“Ku, is that you?” Leon thought focusing on the totemic mask he wore.

“And if it is? I was promised blood. Where is it?”

“You were offered blood under a very specific condition. If you want it then you’d best not obscure my searches from now on.” Leon mentally growled.

“You mortals are always cute when you try to be menacing.” Ku laughed until his voice faded away.

Leon huffed trying to figure out what this feeling was in truth, but it was so distant and unfamiliar Leon couldn’t quite set it into what he knew.

To his knowledge, there were a handful of distinct stares. There was, of course, the actual normal human stare that you can pick up on through social cues. Next up would be the uncanny stare when you know a normal person is staring at you, but there is no normal reason you'd know that. That was usually some underlying esp. Then there were the troublesome kinds. The stares that came from spirits or other things in the beyond. When their eyes set on you, the warmth would be sucked from your bones. It unnerves you, but that's about where it ends you know you're watched but it's hard to say what they perceive. The last is worst. A truly piercing stare. You feel someone really prying into you and picking you apart. It's like having someone looking deep into your mind.

Whatever was looking at that certainly felt close to the third case, but something about it made Leon worry it might lean into the fourth. From now on he was on high alert. No one was above further discretion.

“I should have come to see her, she would have been here to meet me,” Madeline Holt said, a stricken expression contorting her face. It was a good thing Ellie was there to awkwardly comfort their employer, because Manny stood next to the women oblivious to his surroundings, his nose stuck up a copy of the latest Guns & Weapons for Law Enforcement magazine from Harris Publications. Currently, his eyes were scanning over the new Glocks that were coming out the coming year, and a cheaper version of the stingray shotgun shells as well.

If he wasn't obviously in his mid twenties and taller than most of his crew, he might have been mistaken for the most niave and youngest of his coworkers, magazine below his face and lollipop in his mouth. The others talked among themselves as they often did, Manny content with being in his own little world. At least at first appearance, that is. In reality he kept an eye on not only the carousel, but their surroundings.

His paranoia had lost him more dates than he cared to admit, but it was handy in a tight situation. Unfortunately, his observations often made him the bearer of bad news. Truths most people didn't want to deal with.

Once they made it outside, he tucked the magazine under his left arm and slipped his hands in his pockets, breathing in the northern air as if it was refreshing. In reality, it had the fumes of three hundred cars waiting to pick up expected guests. But he enjoyed it for appearance' sake. And to top it off, he casually nudged Kennedy with his shoulder and leaned over familiarly, though the words that left his lips betrayed his deceptive nonchalance.

"Three men behind us, watching Madeline. Don't look." He said, not wanting to call to Ellie with the info too loudly. Chances are Madeline would make a scene that would be detrimental to their investigation. "Tell El." It was the slightest body movement and stiffness in the gait of the three men that had left the airport just behind them that had tipped Manny off. Once he saw their eyes fixed on Madeline, it was one of the easier deductions he had performed recently.

He had his gun at the back of his pants. Once they turned a corner and out of sight, he'd suggest they lure the men elsewhere and perhaps capture one of them.
@FantasyChic

Not having registered any other baggage, Malone shouldered her travel bag and followed her companions to baggage claim and engaged in one of her favorite pass times. People watching. She was a profiler after all. She observed as people immediately swarmed the point from which their luggage would start to come out. Apparently each and every one of them was more in a hurry than the other. So they needed the prime location to immediately snatch their baggage, the second it peaked out of the baggage claim shoot. Of course there was no guarantee that whoever was closest to the mouth of the luggage carousel would be lucky enough to have their suitcases come out first. Still, they wouldn't relinquish their spot. After all, their bags could be the very next. Or the next after those. Or the ones after those. And so on and so forth. While the people who's bags did come out first were forced to walk along the carousel and follow their bags until the crowd thinned and they were able to snatch them up.

It was a sort of Baggage Roulette.

And then there were those few, who apparently didn't have something better to do and were in no hurry to leave the airport, who waited way back at the very end of the revolving baggage conveyer line. Content in the knowledge that their luggage would eventually made its way to them. Had Malone registered a bag, she would be among those laid back few individuals. If you had nothing pressing to do, there really was no point to this pissing contest happening at the mouth of the baggage claim carousel.

While watching the crowd at the airport and trying hard not to do an on-the-spot diagnoses, Malone noticed something that caught her attention. It looked like their group was under the scrutiny of a couple of TSA officials. And the profiler had to wonder what they had done to deserve that. Sure, they probably made for an odd grouping of individuals. Especially now with Manny who had his nose in a guns magazine of all things. But somehow she didn't feel like Manny was to blame this time around. No. Something was off about those TSA agents and the odd looks they were giving them. Malone's casual posture didn't waver. She didn't discontinue her people watching either. Had she stopped, it would have looked suspicious for sure.

As soon as they'd retrieved their luggage the team moved towards the exit and Malone sidled to Madeline who appeared distraught. Ellie looked like a meltdown of their client was the last thing she wanted to take care of right now so the ex-FBI agent approached the woman hearing the tail end of Ellie's attempt at consoling and Madeline's snapping retort. As soon as she felt Malone beside her however Madeline looked at the profiler and appeared a bit chagrinned by her outburst. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement and quieted down.

Malone also nodded as a gesture of encouragement and smiled a little. As she did so her mind went back to the strange looks their group was getting from those few TSA agents. She would have to file this tidbit of information for later review. As well as relate it to her colleagues. In their line of work nothing was too odd or inconsequential. The strangest detail could be vital. On their way out of the terminal she noticed an interaction between Manny and Kennedy that could have been his usual shenanigans when it came to interacting with the newest addition to the group. But Malone sensed a deeper meaning to it. Not that Manny wasn't the playful sort. Especially where Kennedy was involved. The two of them had this barb wire-y banter going on with both of them throwing shade at the other. It was cute in a way. But this, right now. It was that, but also something else.

The flight was long and boring. She didn't expect much from the job so flying coach wasn't surprising, but she still hated it. She flew often for her old job and normally she would be put in business class with the occasional boost to first if she was lucky (or if there was a particularly influential client), so she got used to it.

She spent the time on the plan going through the file Jeremy gave her. She knew he had to pull lots of strings to get it, but he did. She owed him those doughnuts and much more.

She skimmed it for the most part, highlighted certain sentences and paragraphs that caught her attention. She made her own notes on it. After they get settled, she would show Malone the file. To pass the time, she listened to music on her phone while playing some mindless game.

Once they got off and made their way to baggage claim, she noticed that Manny was reading a gun magazine. In an airport. She didn't know whether to laugh it off or chew him out for his stupidity. The fact he didn't care either made it even more impressive. She would talk to him later about that. Having a carefree attitude was all well and good, but when it got to matters of national security, you were pushing the limits.

The sister seemed just about at her wit's end and she couldn't really blame her. There was more going on and she lost her sister. She followed everyone outside with her own bag with some clothes and toiletries. She packed light, hoping they wouldn't be here for longer than needed. She kept her important things in her bag she had over her shoulder. Her laptop, her credentials, her gun. She now had a gun, it just dawned on her. A year ago she wouldn't have even looked at the thing and now she was packing heat. How life worked.

As she reminisced, she felt a poke from an elbow. She turned to see Manny getting awfully close to her (damn he smelled good!). Before she could protest, he whispered.

She wanted to look, of course, but she held still, pretending he was divulging some romantic secret. She did a casual hair flip and caught a brief glimpse of the men in question. Sure enough, they seemed to be following them. Hoping to not let it know they figured it out, she nodded "Sure thing, sweetie," before she made her way towards El.

She caught up to the woman and tapped her shoulder. "We may have a situation. Manny noticed three men following closely behind us watching Madeline closely." She was prepared, of course, but this only confirmed the fact that something more was going on here.

Morgan found herself floating in a dark space.

No, not floating - she felt weight on her feet, but she had no sensation of what might be around her. Nothing but a vast lightlessness, a tenebrous, echoing totality stretching in every direction, including below her feet. The space was not quite familiar, like something remembered but seen from a different angle, a different place. She turned, felt her boots click against emptines. Of course, nothing. There was no light here.

There were sounds, though, just at the edge of hearing. A sussurus of half-heard voices, their meaning entirely opaque but punctuated with the occasional wordless gasp or cry. Moment by moment, Morgan became certain that she knew this place, somehow, but she couldn't quite recall why. She looked around again, then blew out a breath through her nose. Enough of this. Whatever was going on, standing still wouldn't solve anything.

"If you're trying to frighten me, you'll have to do better than this," she called into the darkness, "I find sensory deprivation rather soothing."

Her words didn't echo, every syllable swallowed by the vast expanse. All the same, her skin prickled, and she thought she felt a pulse of cool air across the back of her neck. With a bone-deep certainty, Morgan knew she wasn't alone.

"You are not the Vanguard," something said, the words dropping directly into Morgan's mind. There wasn't really a voice, rather the sensation of tectonic plates grinding together. If the the sound of planets colliding could form words, this would be that feeling.

Morgan tried, but not very hard, to keep a note of exasperation out of her voice, "Are you always this astute, or have you been saving up your brilliant observations?"

"Only those made here may set foot in this place," the thing said, and paused. Morgan felt her skull ache, then the words continued, "Ah. We understand. We comprehend. We had considered this path. Our time is not yours to command. Your place is not here, Morgan Lisbeth Blackwood. Do not return."

She opened her eyes, felt the bump of the plane's wheels hitting the runway. The seat next to her sat empty - on the otherwise-packed plane, Morgan expected this was a courtesy Eleanor had arranged. Morgan cleared her throat and sat a little straighter in her seat, feeling the aches and stiffness of too many hours without movement. She shook her head, scrubbed her face with her hands. Of all the things that had happened to her, this was one of the strangest. While the landing announcements rattled by and the plane pulled up to the jetway, she filed the particulars of the experience away in her mind. She didn't wonder if they would be important, but she did wonder if they would be important to this case...in any event, she'd talk to Tragellan later. For now, being on the ground was by far more important.

Nothing caught Morgan's attention until the company were on their way out of the airport, at which point several things rapped against her mind in quick succession, almost all of them with her own companions. With growing alarm, she stepped up to Manny and Kennedy, her expression in a deliberate and, she knew, convincing, expression of surprise and delight.

"Kennedy! Manny!" She slung an arm around each one of them, "I can't believe we ran into one another like this! Isn't it great?" She pulled them each a little closer and continued in the same tone of voice, the same nuclear-powered smile on her face, "Are you two insane? You both took your guns out of their cases in the airport and now you're thinking of starting a fight? If we're being tailed, let them watch, because we're on at least a dozen different cameras, any agent in this building is armed, the police are outside, and there are mortals to get caught in the crossfire. The only thing we can do is leave and pretend we haven't seen anything."

She waved at someone, laughed, and turned back to the pair, "If they don't know we've seen them, they might let something else slip by their action or they might just break off and return to whoever's pulling their strings. In any case, they were ready for us, we didn't know that, and we've lost this one. We'll make plans, but not if we're inside a jail cell or bleeding ot death on the sidewalk." She patted Manny on the back, and gave Kennedy a peck on the cheek before pulling her arms away from them, and taking a few steps ahead.

She turned, and without missing a step, said "I'll see you two around town, huh?" then quick-walked away, heading toward the rental counter. Ahead, she spotted Eleanor. Well, no time like the present.

"Eleanor," Morgan said, coming up next to her, "They were ready for us. There were people watching the airport. We need to get away, before they decide civilian casualties are worth whatever they hoped to accomplish, or before one of our own does something...unwise."

Ellie nodded, partly to show she had received the information and partially as a place holder to give herself a moment to think. The Group didn’t have clearly defined roles but it was extremely unlikely that three of her people would become jumpy or paranoid at the same moment.

“Could it be law enforcement?” Ellie asked quietly. It wouldn’t be the first time the Feds or even people in the intelligence community had taken an interest in their movements. For a doctor, Ellie had seen more than her fair share of interrogation rooms and over sexed males trying to be intimidating and mysterious in equal measure. Morgan shrugged interestingly but her expression clearly conveyed her skepticism of the notion.

“Someone is watching us?” Madeline asked and immediately began to look around.

“Don’t..” Ellie and Morgan began in the same heartbeat but it was too late, the woman’s rubbernecking had been noticed. One of the TSA agents spoke quickly into a cell phone and turned to walk briskly away, another pulled a radio from his belt and began to speak into it in hushed tones. Madeline froze, clearly chagrined.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” the woman began but Ellie’s cold look shut her up.

“Be quiet and act naturally,” Ellie instructed as calmly as she could manage, though a hint of frustration crept into her voice. Tears filled Madeline’s eyes and the woman began to shake.

“Goddess curse you!” Ellie snapped pulled the woman close to her and kissed her full on the lips. Arcane power flooded her mind and her skin prickled as the spell she had woven coursed through her, tendrils of glowing gossamer flowing from her lips into the other womans body. Quiet. Calm. Obey. Madeline quieted as the subtle net of magic settled over her mind. When Ellie broke the kiss the other woman stood calmly, eyes unfocused and face vaguely euphoric. A shiver of pleasure ran through Ellie’s body and she fought to quash the sensation. Invading someone’s mind wasn’t something you wanted to get too fond of.

Kennedy looked surprised and Malone, more experienced, raised an eyebrow at the display. The Gods only knew what Morgan made of it. Ellie cleared her mind. Observe, analyze, act. Surveillance had been waiting for them when the arrived. That could mean official attention but both she and Morgan had checked out Madeline before agreeing to meet with her. The Group took cases that were likely to land them in trouble with officialdom only reluctantly. That meant that whoever this was was likely tied up with the murder somehow. If that were true, it more or less ruled out the lone murderer theory. Ellie didn’t see what they would have to gain by starting an altercation in such a public forum, although it was possible that just landing them all in hot water with the TSA would be sufficient. Either way, as Morgan had implied, it was better to get out of ground an enemy had selected.

“Abandon the luggage. We are leaving,” Ellie said casting an eye back over her shoulder at Manny and Leon. They turned and headed for the door, the others falling in as Ellie stepped through the door into the crisp autumn air. The usual selection of police cars and taxi’s were pulled up in the parking bays and a stream of traffic stopped to drop off passengers and pick up arrivals.

“This way,” Manny said, guesting not towards the rental car kiosk across the road but towards a surface level parking lot.

“Told you I had it covered,” Manny said with a cocksure grin as he gestured to a trio of SUV’s. The big man sauntered across to the first of the large vehicles and pulling open the door. He fished around inside for a moment and then pulled out three sets of keys.

“We should probably assume our hotel is compromised too,” Ellie said as she climbed into the back of one of the cars. Even as she did so a dark van pulled up across the pedestrian crossing and several large men climbed out and rushed towards the terminal. As they reached the doors the TSA agent Ellie had seen on the radio burst out and thrust a finger across the street towards the group by the SUV’s. Ellie’s stomach clenched. This was going from bad to worse and they weren’t yet out of the parking lot.

This time, both of Morgan's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise at Eleanor's sudden intimacy with their client. With a glance around, she turned her attention to Holt, feeling the shape and weight of their client's mind against her senses. No surprise, at least at first. The woman was alarmed, chagrined, panicked, and confused. Then, all at once, those parts of Holt that had been feeding back on one another, building toward toward panic slackened and folded back into Holt's mind, shepherded with a deft and gentle touch. Something else rose to fill the sudden emotional void, a flickering feeling somewhere between orgasmic afterglow and calm contentment.

Tragellan pulled away, and Morgan turned to watch her. Holt hadn't chosen what had just happened to her, she was all but certain. She was familiar with the sensations that came from the abrogation of free will, familiar with them in a way that sometimes kept her up at night. She had no doubt that Tragellan would be subtle and leave the smallest trace she could, but...well. That kind of thing wasn't healthy. There were some kinds of seduction that had no externalities at all.

Adding that to the growing list of things she would need to talk to Tragellan about, Morgan let her awareness drift away from her, feeling the gazes of the other passengers and the sharper, more directed attention of the people - virtually all of them men - in uniform. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, tried to make sense of the riot of humanity around her. There was something peculiar about the attention that she couldn't quite identify, and that fact alone made Morgan's blood run cold. She took another breath, relaxed her awareness of the world around her. There was more than just a lone killer, that much had been clear for some time. Whoever these people were, they were organized, and that was by far the more alarming truth.

Morgan's fingers tightened around the hard plastic carry handle of her own pistol case, still locked at her side. At her gesture, she followed Tragellan toward the parking garage, steps long and sure, trying to watch the world around her without giving that fact away. To both sides she saw people dressed in TSA uniforms move closer, their gazes no longer casual, their body langauge growing more tense with every step the Group took. She looked up - no helicopters, thank goodness. Whoever these people were, they wouldn't have to worry about being followed from the air - at least by conventional means.

A measure of relief flooded through her chest, washing away a measure of her growing tension when Manny pulled open the doors of a pair of gleaming SUVs. She had to give the young man credit, there were times when he pulled through in a profound way. These were even models she'd not only driven, but trained on with the Bureau. She opened her mouth to voice her relief, but her train of thought shifted tracks at the sound of an engine roaring and getting closer. No time. Manny would probably forgive a certain amount of brusqueness, though it might cost a beer later.

"Over here, Manny," Morgan said, raising her hand to catch the keys he tossed over, "Eleanor's right, we have to assume that whoever this is knows everything we arranged for." She made a frustrated noise, rubbed her eyes for a moment, then looked back at the Group. There would be questions, and she didn't know how she'd answer them, but that was a problem for the future.

"All right, all right. I...know somewhere we can go." She blew out a quick breath and pointed, "Malone, Leon, you're with me. Get Holt into our car and belted in; we'll be in the lead. Manny, get Eleanor and Kennedy and be ready for...whatever these people are going to try. I don't think they're going t..." her voice trailed off, "Oh, bollocks."

Morgan pointed at the van that had roared up onto the pedestrian crosswalk, the door already rolling aside. A man in TSA uniform pointed toward the Group, and the mountain-sized men from the van started pounding the asphalt, hurtling toward the SUVs like the judgement of an angry god. Morgan pulled her cell phone out, pressed Manny's speed-dial, and jabbed the speakerphone button before putting the phone back in her jacket pocket.

"Manny, answer that and leave your speaker on, we'll need to talk. Malone, shotgun, if you don't mind." She smirked despite herself and the onrushing tide of unwelcome attention, turning back to Manny, "And do try to keep up."

She stepped up into the truck, tossing her pistol case to Malone with a flick of her wrist. With her other hand, she twisted the key even before she settled into the driver's seat. The SUV came to life with a reassuring thrum, and Morgan pulled the door shut behind her. She grabbed the gear lever, yanked on it, and pressed her foot to the accelerator hard enough to make all four wheels spin until the computer caught up.

In the same moment, she clicked her seat belt into place, and her face took on an expression of intense concentration.

Morgan cleared her throat, "You'll probably want to hold on to something."

The truck, wheels finding traction at last, launched away from the parking lot with all the power Morgan cared to muster out of the bellowing engine. In an instant, black-clad bruisers scattered from the steel behemoth like bowling pins, diving to each side. Morgan didn't slow down or change direction, one of the men avoiding the wheels only by leaping to one side. She put on even more speed and the truck bounced over the line of curbstones at the parking lot's edge with a teeth-rattling bounce.

In the rearviw mirror, Morgan saw the other SUV start to move, the bruisers just now starting to scramble to their feet and away from the path of Manny's truck. No time for triumph, though - Morgan saw someone shove open the van's driver's door and stand on the running board. They were tall, almost skeletally thin, a long and ragged coat fluttering around them. Morgan couldn't see the figure's eyes, but she felt his attention, almost like a lance of will scraping across her awareness. Then she saw the figure turn, point at the other vehicle, and flickering, blue-white nimbus surrounded their outstretched arm.

"Manny!" Morgan yelled, hoping the man had kept his cell phone on, "The driver, look out!"

Manny raised an eyebrow at the sudden kiss Ellie gave Madeline. His hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side, he couldn't sense magic as well as the others, but he knew it from other signs. Still, had to say something.

"Didn't think she was paying us that much."

Once they made it to the van, Manny gave a wink to Morgan, tossing her the keys. "Know a guy from another job that moved to the city awhile back, called in a quick favor." He said to everyone present. Opening the door to his van, he hopped in the front seat as he continued to speak. "Kennedy, take the front seat with me." He called. "Ellie, I'll need you in the back ready to shoot if we need it. Fuckin' Morgan doesn't know who she's talking to."

His last words were given in a chuckle. Truth be told, back in his home town he'd been known as somewhat of a daredevil. Riding around town with his friends, his ass sometimes sitting on the windowsill of his cardoor going 70 in a 30. Not that he'd done it for kicks in awhile, but it came in handy when dealing with certain paranormal creatures, or non-understanding authorities. Hand eye coordination was a life saver. The tall detective revved the car up when the two ladies were inside, and with a screech of rubber on concrete, he was backed out and on Morgan's trail.

Grinning, he sped the car faster once he saw the toughs that were pursuing them scramble out of the way. "Might want to hold on," he said curtly to the two women as he hit the same speed bump Morgan did, the car sailing a foot off the ground for a split second before tires hit the pavement once more. Luckily, Manny wasn't too engrossed in his driving or in the excitement. He heard Morgan warn him of the threat just as he saw it himself in the mirror.

"Got it." He replied, and even as the words left his lips, he spun the wheel and slammed on the brakes, sending the van spinning outwards to clip the other vehicle. The man on the running board was shoved off by the momentum, and he hit one of the concrete pillars that held up the next floor of the parking deck. Manny could have sworn he saw a red stain at the pillar before his vision shifted along with his vehicle.

During the spin of the Van, he found out that he wasn't the only one who hadn't had the time for a seat belt when Kennedy was sent bouncing into his lap. His collarbone suddenly covered in soft hair, and he exhaled air when the weight of her shapely body landed on his. Manny blinked in surprise. The way they'd often bickered he never would have admitted it, but in any other circumstance this wouldn't have been unwelcome. He opened his mouth to say something witty, but he suddenly realized there was not time for that. "Hold on," he told her, looping an arm around her waist as he put the petal to the metal, the van now screeching as it backed up and out of the parking deck.

Shooting out in reverse, he spun the wheel and the vehicle whipped to the side, nearly striking a lamp post, avoiding it by a mere foot. He saw Morgan about to turn the next corner, and without delay he sped on after her. Civilians scrambling and an airport security guard furiously yelling into his mic. Behind him, the car he'd bumped was now shooting out of the deck as well, but thankfully without needing to make an extreme maneuver, their Van's momentum was far more stable. "You ok?" He asked Kennedy. "Ellie? You alright?"

Once he got confirmation, he let go of Kennedy's waist and shook his head at the entire situation. "Might be old fashioned, but maybe you should buy me some coffee first." He told her, though it was more of a tease. He gave her a wink to showcase this as she scooted back over to her seat. Putting his seat belt on now as they turned the corner Morgan did, Manny got her on the phone. "They're still tailing us. Might want to lose them quick before we got the PMPD breathing down our necks."

As if to further aggravate the situation, two bullets ricocheted off the top of the van. Manny gritted his teeth, really wanting to be the one with the gun in this situation. But he trusted Ellie. "Fuckers." He breathed. "El, see if you can hit their tires or the driver. We need to cut them off, now."

Kennedy had a small blush on her cheeks as El kissed Madeline. It was...surprising. To each their own and all that, but Kennedy hadn't really expected that to occur. Still, it was hard to say what was going through El's mind. And whatever it was, it seemed to work as Madeline had calmed down.

Soon, it became to all involved they were now being hounded. They ran to their cars as Morgan shouted directions. Kennedy followed Manny into the car, sitting shotgun. Before she could get her bearings and get her seatbelt on Manny sped off with Morgan following. The chase turned even crazier as Manny sped along going well above the speed limit. "Wait Manny...I.." but it was no use.

Soon, Kennedy felt herself bounce around the front seat. It wasn't safe. One particularly large bump landed her in Manny's lap. The two stared at each other briefly, Kennedy finding words hard. Normally she would have chewed the man out for his recklessness, but his recklessness was saving them at this moment. Plus, his lap felt kind of nice...

Kennedy shook her head. Before she could scoot off, Manny held an arm around her. She held on as the chase continued. She looked out the back window, watching the car give chase. Whoever they were, they wanted them badly. And she figured it would not end well for them if they were caught.

Thankfully, the speed of the car settled and Manny let her go. She quickly scooted off. "I'll buy you one when we outrun these guys," she spoke back. Manny made a good point. The police would surely get involved. What's to say they would be getting off scott free, even if it was them getting chased. They would ask questions and waste time.

As Kennedy thought, bullets began hitting the car. She stifled a yell she was about to make. This was the first time she was under fire, but she felt in her gut it wouldn't be the last. She trained for this. She was prepared. Manny asked El to shoot, but she wouldn't sit idly by. "She's not the only one with a gun." She took out her gun from her bag and opened the window.

She aimed as best she could, but Manny's driving made it hard. Still, she breathed deeply, aiming the sights. She let off a shot that pinged the left side of the car, just above the tire. She shot again, this time hitting her mark. The tire all but exploded as the car veered off to the side. It hopped over a large median before smoke started to rise from where the tire once was.

"There. That should give them pause for a bit. Now, where are we off to." She asked those with her. Their surprised looks didn't register. She was on this team and she would prove her spot to them. Hopefully, this paved the way to doing that.

Being at the back of the group Leon had a grand view of the slow breakdown of all subtlety. The sudden nerves of the newer members up front, Morgan’s attempts to cover them, and the near catastrophic meltdown from the client. E’s method to shut her up wasn’t all that useful either. Sure a lot of people turned their heads at public displays of affection, but they also drew others attention when they were two random women, one with tears rolling down her face, in the middle of the airport lobby. Of course, the kicker was the magic that Leon could see spilling from E’s mouth as she pulled away. Even if they knew the group was here with Madeline, they might not have known the group’s capabilities.

“Ya know usually the point of us is to keep our clients out of the mental hospital,” Leon growled at E as he continued forward.

But he didn’t waste any more time on that. He kept close to E and client knowing his coat could shield them from a magical attack. As soon as they were clear of the doors Leon took Madeline’s arm and hurried her to the SUV’s back seat. Where she sat still in that dazed far out state. Leon buckled her in before putting down one of the seats and moving to the trunk space. Dropping his duffle bag back in the seat Leon pulled out his shielding totem.

“Ancestor Bear, wake and shield your kin. I plead for your protection.” Leon whispered holding the totem to his chest.

A golden light began to spill like water from the totem. Slowly it began to creep along the floor and eventually up the walls to the roof. When the light stopped growing it covered the back half of the vehicle. The whole place looked like it had been wrapped in psychedelic gold tie-dye foil. Leon stuck the totem between the seats to make sure it would stay put. By now everyone was in, and before Leon could give the A-OK Morgan floored it sending Leon crashing into the trunk door hard enough to knock open.

Leon barely managed to grab onto a cargo hook in the floor to keep himself from sliding right out the back. If it weren't for current circumstances Leon would have been impressed at how many people they had managed to piss off at once. Granted the TSA members were just as likely to be cultists in neon vest Leon was still confused on why they would be after them so fast.

His questions could wait though as the ones that were smart enough to not try jumping on a moving vehicle were pulling out guns. The shield only coated what it was touching when activated not the space between, so with the door up a good shot could hit Morgan or Malone. Leon threw his coat up to Malone, which stayed golden even out of the totems original range.

“Put that on the back of Morgan's seat, and stay behind me.” Leon told Malone sounding more like someone on a Sunday drive than one in a car chase, “Oh and if you get a chance, revolver’s in the front interior pocket of the duffle.”

Malone obviously wasn't the only member of the team that felt eyes on them. She observed Kennedy making a subtle beeline for their boss and whisper something to her. Madeline was also getting more and more jittery by the second. Malone's presence seemed to have lost it's previous calming effect. As soon as Kennedy delivered her whispered news to Ellie Madeline reacted in the worst possible way. She became visible startled and looked around frantically. Malone gritted her teeth, but the damage was already done. She could feel the subtle movement of their observers. Those TSA agents were watching them after all. For fuck sake! Her attention shifted back in time to watch as Ellie grabbed Madeline and pulled her in for a full on kiss on the lips. The ex-FBI raised an eyebrow at the strange display. She hadn't figured Ellie for family, but than again her gaydar never worked the way she needed it to.

Still there was something off about this kiss. The timing was strange to say the least and Malone was left with a weird feeling in her gut observing it. And after the deed was done Madeline's attitude had shifted dramatically. Somewhat dazed, yes, but not the blissful, or shocked expression one would expect after such an act. Something else to file away for later analysis. The kissed provoked varied responses from the other team members, but time was short and all of them rushed after Manny who had arranged for their transportation. Malone didn't know him all that well yet, but there was no doubt that the young man was a bit of a wild card. Still she'd come to realize that when it mattered he could be counted on.

He led them to two SUV's and Morgan quickly took control of the situation. Her presence and authority was either deeply ingrained or she'd been in charge for long enough to be comfortable with the position. And apparently she had a place to stash the team since their arrangements were obviously compromised. Could this be another peace of the puzzle that is Morgan Blackwood? Wondered Malone when their pursuers caught up with them. One of the TSA agents that Malone had noticed observing them without any obvious reason in the airport was pointing at them, obviously directing some unknown thugs to where their team was. Malone heard Morgan utter a curse and all of them scrambled into action. Morgan instructed Leon to stash Madeline into the back seat of the first SUV and take the seat beside her. She issued some instructions to Manny and told Malone to ride shotgun with her, Leon and Madeline.

Entering the car she tossed her locked gun case at Malone, buckled up and the SUV peeled off at almost breakneck speed. Malone discarded the locked gun case in her feet and immediately went for her Walthers, making sure both guns were ready for use. The ex-FBI agent felt strangely calm and even a bit exhilarated. She welcomed the rush of adrenaline. It would sharpen her senses and help her process information faster, allowing her to perform in peak condition. It also made her entry into the Zone all the more easier. The fact that someone was waiting for them at the airport and they were prepared to expose themselves by giving chase so openly spoke volumes. It was no longer in question if Cassandra had taken her own life. Whoever was chasing after them had to have been lying in wait for Madeline. Sure enough the Group had its fair share of enemies, but this was far too public for it to be a vendetta against a team member. And the timing was too much of a coincidence. A pursuit on this level of organization meant to Malone's mind that Cassandra'd managed to get herself into some pretty shady stuff. Supernatural or not. Either way, they were all the way in now and they would have to see it through.

Malone's mind raced to collect even the most insignificant details her eyes came upon. Thugs came pouring out of a van and rushed their SUV. Morgan accelerated without a second thought and the men scattered like cockroaches. She didn't let off until their car clamored over the speed bump and bounced them up and down hard enough to knock the wind out of you. Malone steadied herself with a hand on the dashboard. She twisted to see what was happening with Manny's team. A robed waif of man had exited the van, his hand outstretched, glowing faintly, pointing ominously at Manny's SUV. Bugger! Malone grabbed her P99 and was about to stick her upper body out of the window and take aim at the hollow of a man, beside her Morgan shouting a warning over the speakerphone, when Manny expertly dispatched him with a sleek maneuver.

What she observed next made her blood run cold. The broken body of the robed waif that had been the van's driver began twisting and jerking and suddenly leaped from the ground and scurried forward in pursuit like a grotesque man-insect. Malone had had her fair share of run ins with the supernatural since she'd left the FBI but this was a first for her and she could not help but feel a bit freaked out. Still, it only served to strengthen her resolve. Whatever this creature was, it was clearly unnatural, unclean and unholy. And it would not get its hands on any of her teammates, or their client.

As the two SVU's shot out on the street and began to weave and bob between the traffic Leon tossed her his coat instructing her to put it on the back of Morgan's seat which she did without even a thought to question him. She didn't understand half the things Leon could do, but she trusted the effectiveness of his craft none the less. He also calmly directed her to keep behind him, but Malone just answered back: "Don't mind me, keep Madeline safe! I'd bet my life they're after her!"

Their pursuers gave them little time for respite. They were hot on their heels with Manny's SUV taking the brunt of the chase being on the back. Bullets started flying as soon as the thugs realized they wouldn't be able to outdrive them. "Shaite!" Malone muttered under her breath. She had absolutely no shot at the van. She would have to trust Manny, Ellie and Kennedy to take care of this. And just as the thought had crossed her mind she watched almost in awe and horror as the van's tire explode and the vehicle flipped and went flying to the side as it was bound to do when one of it's tires blew out at this breakneck speed. She prayed to all the gods that there were no innocent casualties. The thought had barely had time to form in her mind when a titanic slam sent her flying towards Morgan, her seat-belt biting into her body and keeping her in her seat. She grunted and straightened. Morgan cursed out-loud and maneuvered to avoid the second van of pursuers from running them off the street.

Malone didn't waste any time. She lowered her window, peeked out and aimed at the second van, which had fallen a little bit behind and to the side of their SUV. She unloaded her clip in a fast and tight succession of shots, aimed at the van's engine. She was about to come back inside of the car and reload, when she felt an impact in her shoulder. Something resembling a dagger, or a knife, or some form of blade, was protruding from her left shoulder, above her collar bone.

"Oh, bloody hell!" She cursed sitting back and closing her window. Her mind barely registered the second van slowing down as its engine began coughing smoke and inevitably stalled and died out. Who the fuck throws weird ass obsidian looking daggers during a car chase?!? She thought as cold sweat covered her entire body and the blade started pumping some sort of dark energy into her. She felt a kind of a pull from the strange dagger. As if it was connected to something via an invisible chain. She made a move to grab it and pull it out. Toss it out of the window. But the moment she raised her hand pain paralyzed her muscles. She clenched her jaw to stifle a yell of pain.

"Leon..." Malone muttered through gritted teeth. Her voice hoarse with pain and frustration. "I think we have an uninvited guest." She turned with effort to indicate the strange object stuck in her shoulder. She expected Madeline to react in some way, but she was still strangely subdued even during this whole mayhem of a chase. "I think I've just got tagged with some magic-y tracking device." The ex-FBI continued explaining. "I can feel a pull and the fucking thing won't allow me to pull it out and toss it. I tried and it blasted me with enough pain to wake up a dead man." She finished, cold sweat pouring down her temples. She was beginning to shiver. Strangely, the wound wasn't bleeding a whole lot. "Can you do something about it?" She looked questioningly at Leon.

The robed figure slid bonelessly to the ground, blood from the impact streaking the streetlight behind it and beginning to seep from the shattered body. The smell of burned rubber and screeching tires competed with car horns as motorists slammed on the breaks as the SUVs roared around the corner and down the access road that led from the airport towards downtown and the accompanying freeway ramps. People gaped at the sudden and shocking wreckage and many were on cellphones either calling 911 or filming the scene.

The robed figure paid them no mind. Vessels were of little importance. His own vessel still lived, though his shattered back would have made the short remainder of his life an agony. No matter, vessels suffered, it was what they were made for after all. It didn't matter, all that mattered was the Fathers plan, and nothing as insignificant as human life or human frailty could be allowed to interfere with that goal. Black filaments began to spread through the dying figure, burrowing through flesh and coiling around blood-slicked bone like parasitic fungi. The robe obscured the writhing contorted flesh beneath as the figure, as though drawn by an obscene puppet master, stood jerkily, its back twisted at an unnatural angle. The vessels mouth opened as if to scream but speech was not permitted to it.

With an ugly scuttling speed, the thing leaped over the chainlink fence that ringed the airport like a grotesque toad. Bones crunched and tendons popped, unnecessary now that its true nature had come fully awake. The thing, wearing the corpse of an emaciated man like the cast offs of a rag pickers barrel, blurred across the airstrip at astonishing speed, the flesh of its feet tearing off and leaving a bloody trail across the tarmac. The way the curve of the road bordered the airport allowed it to cut the cord of an arc with its prey, closing the gap faster than seemed possible. The back of its robes ripped apart as dozens of long filamentous appendages, each sharp as obsidian blades, erupted from the ruinous rent in the vessels back. The Father wanted the sister of the apostate, and his plan would not be balked by these interlopers.

_____________________________________________________________________________

It was all very well for Manny to talk about shooting, I was not her strong suit, but the point was moot in any case. Ellie's own weapon, a silver plated Colt 1911 that her former mentor had used to kill himself, was still locked in her carry case, forlornly circling the baggage carousel in Portland Jetport. Fortunately, the rest of the team supplied the lack. Bullet cracked around her as she gripped the seat tightly. It was a stunning escalation in a public place. It felt like a botch by their opposition. Well it was only a botch if they survived she supposed.

The SUVs were coming off the access road and pulling onto the main streets of Portland, behind them smoke coiled lazily into the air from the vehicles Malone and Kennedy had so neatly disabled. Sirens sounded in the near distance, not surprising given the proximity to the airport. That might be a problem later but later would have to take care of itself.

The phone in Manny’s pocket chirruped with Morgan’s smooth silky voice, presumably giving directions. In the background there were confused sounds of pain. In Ellie’s witch sight, dark energies swirled and eddied in chaotic currents. Some of it was focused on Morgan’s car, ahead and to the right, but a much darker thread throbbed malignantly to the left. It drew her eye as surely as a moth was drawn to a flame.

A creature, wreathed dark magic and some sort of black glass like tendrils, leaped over the barrier fence which separated the airport from the road. It landed on the hood of a blue prius following close behind Morgan’s SUV. The windscreen starred to opacity immideatley as the front of the car deformed under the impact. With a crunching jolt the tendrils thrust the thing away from the ruined car as though it were springboard. Ellie could see the airbags exploding into the faces of the passengers as the shattered hybrid spun away.

The thing, whatever it was, landed atop the SUV, though without the sort of momentum that had crushed the unfortunate prius. It balanced against the speed by spearing the razor liked filaments into the top of the vehicle. More tendrils drew back and drove at the ceiling like a mass of glistening spears. Golden sparks geysered skyward as the thing struck some sort of mystic shield, Leon’s work she presumed. It struck again, and again, howling in frustration and hate, but unable to shatter the defensive barrier.

Ellie stared for a heartbeat longer in morbid fascination before she tore her attention away. With a gaelic curse she tore off her seatbelt and scrambled ungracefully over the backseat into the rear of the SUV. Most of her supplies were langishing uselessly in her checked baggage but no practitioner ever traveled completely unprepared. Tearing open her handbag she emptied the contents onto the floor in a clatter of make up and personal items. The vehicle swerved again driving her body against the side of the car. Wincing she snatched up a tube of black lipstick, a relic from an earlier goth phase, and hastily scribed a circle around herself in the back of the speeding vehicle. It wasn’t a great circle geometrically, but it was the idea that mattered. The air took on a peculiar quality as the magical energy intensified.

Normally Eleanor didn’t trouble herself with chanting and circles, at least not in public, but what she was about to attempt wasn’t a thing for half measures. The chant spilled from her lips in smooth liquid syllables. As the chant built she felt the attention of the thing on the other SUV, it could sense her, even over the magical noise of the shield. A very bad sign that. Taking a deep breath she drew a brooch from her jacket and thrust the pin into the ball of her thumb. A drop of blood, scarlet and potent welled up from the punchred flesh. She pressed it to her forhead, smearing it with scarlet. Then she closed her eyes.

Madeline’s eyes blinked shut for a long moment before opening them again with a snap. Her irises, previously brown, were Tregellan’s brilliant green. Another blow hammered the top of the SUV. One of the windows cracked and went opaque as it gave way. Madeline turned to Leon, the most decisive action the woman had made since Ellie had kissed her.

“Morgan, there is some sort of construct on the roof,” the voice was Madeline’s but the intonation and slight accent were Ellie’s. It was awkward and stilted speech as though Madeline were learning to talk for the first time.

“Leon, can you extend…” her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on the wounded Malone. Her head swiveled with the graceless jerk of a puppet back to Leon.

“Status.”

Privileged Information

Over the years Leon had seen plenty. He wouldn’t flinch a charging werewolf, and he had grown bored of dealing with common vampires, but watching a demonic entity bounce around traffic like it was in the Olympics was a new sight. Even then he couldn’t help but grin when the being’s spear-like appendages simply bounced off the shield.

“See Mad’s gonna be just fine.” Leon chuckled watching as a tendril attempted to breach the shield and instead splattered apart on impact.

Leon turned back up toward his associates to see more tendrils denting the ceiling as well as a knife sticking out of Malone’s arm. Before he could even question how that happened Leon felt something tug his leg. A tendril had wrapped around it and was trying to pull him out. With his arm tied up in the seat belt, Leon was lifted into the air, but couldn’t be extricated from the vehicle. Leon thanks to the spirits the shield was taking the strain less he’d have his arm or leg wrenched from its socket.

“Leon, can you extend-” Madeline began to communicate in a stranger's voice, but Leon shouted cutting her off.

“Already stretched thin thanks!” Leon roared as he struggled to get free of the tendril.

It became its grip was too strong. Pulling his silver knife out of his bag Leon cut the seatbelt and was launched out the back of the Van. Leon caught the end of the trunk door and looked up to see the monstrous hitchhiker had fallen backward thrown down by Leon suddenly coming free.

“You want the girl you gotta kill me first,” Leon growled.

The demonic shaping threw more tendrils towards Leon grabbing him and reeling him in. The tendrils came together forming a something like a mouth in front of the corpse's chest. The mouth consumed Leon whole, but then began to shake erratically. A silver blade stabbed through the demonic growths before golden fingers ripped it apart. Leon tore himself free and lied on the top of the SUV covered in blood and ichor. He gripped onto one of the roof racks with his free hand stabbing at the demon as it lurched away making gurgling noises as more ichor spilled from its body. It was now at the back corner of the van while Leon was at the front.

“Ku, you wanted blood. Have a demon's.” Leon muttered.

The disguised mask on his face began to thrum as it absorbed the blood and ichor around its host.

“More.” Was the only reply.

“Then you guard your host,” Leon grumbled pulling the sunglasses off.

Reaching into the busted passenger window Leon.

“These now. Grit your teeth, and don’t listen to the voice.” Leon told Malone, but his tone was the complete opposite of before. It was like a surgeon telling a soldier to bite a bullet.

The glasses seemed to pull themselves onto Malone’s face. As they did Leon pulled the knife free. The glasses filled with energy and momentarily reverted to their true form. The agony would still be immense for a moment, but then it would disperse immensely weakened through Malone’s entire body. After a second it’d only feel like a papercut, though the physiological effects of the wound would remain.

“Obsidian? Traditionally used in sacrificial knives. Don’t tell me, you’re in a blood cult where you trade your souls for unimaginable power?” Leon taunted the demon trying to keep its attention.

He could think of plenty of ways to dispatch it, but all ended up the same with him and the demon tumbling off the roof. The chance of casualties alone stopped those plans. He couldn’t show his hand though. Showing fear to a demon was resting your head in a guillotine.

(Un)Privilaged Information:

Malone was in a world of hurt. It was almost like a completely different universe. It made her entirely oblivious to what was happening in the other world where her team was involved in a high speed chase with unknown individuals. The thing that had found its way into her shoulder was now pumping dark energy into her body non stop. So much so that she could now feel a tangible connection being formed between the blade in her shoulder and the thing that it had apparently come from. It was like an invisible, yet undeniable tether, connecting her to a vile black darkness that pulsed something unknown, but distinctly disgusting.

The profiler's body was now visibly shaking, cold sweat dampening her black t-shirt, plastering her short, dark hair to her forehead. "Ssssssso freshhhhhhhh!" Something hissed at Malone in the pain universe. "Sssssssstrong vesssssssssssel." Again the hissing voice penetrated Malone's mind. "Want!" The hiss proclaimed with a greedy finality and Malone felt the dark pain-energy of her new universe closing in around her. Tightening its hold on her, pulsing and shifting tighter and tighter around her mind. Suddenly there was a titanic rumble and the universe shook and the pain was upon her ever more fierce and all-consuming. "Mine!" It proclaimed with a hungry slobber.

All of Malone's muscles clenched in the effort to resist the command. She would not give in to the pain. She would not allow it to become a conduit for whatever wanted to take over. She strained every ounce of willpower she still possessed and ordered her right arm to move. She was taking back control of her body and that was that. The obsidian protrusion in her shoulder thrummed with power and vile venom. Malone struggled against the new infusion of pain when suddenly out of the blue she sensed Leon's presence. He was speaking to her, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. It was like she was under water and his words reached her distorted and unintelligible. He placed something on her face and the object immediately clamped down. And then more agony as the man grasped the obsidian knife thing and pulled it out. This time Malone could not contain the howl of pain as it tore through every fiber of her being and almost robbed her of her senses. She managed to barely hang on to consciousness.

Malone could no longer sense the tether between herself and the darkness that was there when the dagger was digging into her shoulder. The pain was also slowly, very slowly subsiding. Draining away with the last tendrils of dark, disgusting energy. But all was not good in the universe as she gradually became aware of the real world around her. They were still in the SUV. Morgan was the picture of grim determination behind the wheel. Leon was nowhere to be seen and Madeline... Madeline was strangely active and speaking in a weird voice that reminded her of... No, that can't be possible! Malone thought. And yet the voice, inflection and even the accent screamed Ellie. The SUV was pummeled by some unknown force, but whatever Leon had done in preparation wasn't allowing anything to get inside the interior of the car.

Gradually a new presence made itself known in the back of her mind. On some scale it reminded her of the darkness she'd just fought against overtaking her. And yet, Malone felt strangely comfortable with this new presence. As soon as she thought it a voice sounded in her mind. "Hello." A vision of a scowling tiki flashed in her mind's eye. If it hadn't been for her association with Leon Malone wouldn't have even known what it was she just saw. This new thing inside her mind was different from the previous entity. It was as if it was almost... respectful of its host. "I'm Ku." The tiki spoke to her again. "And you're welcome, by the way, for saving you from that demon you had stuck in your shoulder."

"Wha..." Malone mumbled incredulous she was talking to a... a... an imaginary tiki. Am I spending too much time around Leon?!?

"Come now. No need for insults. Could a plain imaginary tiki save you from what I just did? And let me tell you. I don't perform out of the goodness of my heart."

"Oh, no?" Malone got her voice and some of her brain cells back. "I suppose now you're gonna tell me you require some sort of payment."

"Of course." The tiki spoke back. "I don't do pro bono! But my price is fair."

"Sure." Malone shot back skeptically. True, she was kinda new to magic and magical practices, but she had made it a point to learn the most important basics. Whenever magic was involved, regardless of the type of practice, there was always the law of equivalent exchange. Be it the threefold law of wicca, or the contract type of magics of the voodoo practitioners. There was always a price and it was always equal to what was asked. A brutal price.

"I see you're not a complete novice." Ku spoke. "Yes, there is a price for my services. Blood. Simple as that."

Malone smirked. "Ku, was it? You can stop with the pitch. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying. Leon stuck you to my face so I'm pretty sure he's probably made some sort of payment for your services."

A creepy and yet somehow non-threatening laughter filled Malone's mind. "Can't blame a demon mask for trying."

Silence. Coldness.

Malone's head lolled to her chest, her vision blurred as she watched her blood flow out of the freshly vacated shoulder wound. The dagger must have created a tamponade, preventing blood loss. But now that it was out, the wound bled freely and Malone was once again enshrouded in coldness as she lost consciousness and slumped in her seat, the seat-belt keeping her upright.

The sudden appearance of the creature had Manny cursing. The men were one thing, but he'd never seen anything like this apparition. Whatever was happening here was far more planned and far more serious than a simple murder via incantation. They'd unwittingly gotten involved with high level occult activities, apparently coupled with a large amount of funds and influences. He was glad Kennedy was far more impressive than he'd given her credit for with a gun, but he'd have time to be impressed later. As for now...

"Kennedy, take the wheel," He told her, lowering his window and un-holstering his gun. Reaching into his satchel, he fished his hand within until he found what he was looking for. Plenty would be perturbed with what was happening to the car in front of them, but Manny'd seen and ended far too many horrors. He unloaded his sidearm, and reloaded it with three brass bullets, with crosses emblazoned upon their backs, filled with Frankincense and Myrrh rather than gunpowder. They'd been hard to obtain, but a priest buddy of his back in Chicago had not only procured the ingredients, but had blessed the bullets in holy water as well.

Undoing his seat belt, he grabbed a hold of the roof handle above the window, and yanked himself out. He set his ass on the windowsill, feet tucked under the seat and left hand holding his pistol in a steady aim. If there was one thing Manny could do, it was shoot. It took him all of two seconds to get the right bearings, and lamenting they were still drawing attention to themselves, he discharged his firearm.

The bullet punched into the mangled form of the creature, causing it to shudder and garble in pain. Manny could not very well see what was happening within the SUV with Morgan, Malone, or Leone, but whatever it was they needed help. Hopefilly Ell was on that. His world suddenly spun when they turned a sharp corner, but he balanced himself well and aimed once more.

Another turn. Manny's hair whipped, and he spat out the toothpick in his mouth before firing again. This bullet looked like it hit perfectly, the creature now letting out a piercing cry. Passersby would grab their ears and fall to their knees in pain, and it was only by sheer will power that Manny managed to keep himself steady. His vision blurred from the banshee howl, he could see the thing atop the SUV slowly turn to regard him.

Its head was an upside-down woman's visage, the skin shivered and the jaw broken. Its eyes looked all too real and deadly, however. "Yeah, get a load of me." Manny breathed, goading the thing into focusing on the PI now. It looked like it worked, because its spider-like legs of broken human limbs bent as if it was about to leap. "Kennedy, swerve!" He called, and the abomination leaped. Wind whipped and tires screeched, and Manny's eyes met with the thing's as it suddenly sailed off Morgan's vehicle towards their own.

Crack.

The bullet struck it straight in the chest, its limp weight flying past Manny as the SUV swerved once more back into alignment. Manny turned around to see the thing tumble onto the street, its limb slowly moving as if it was a dog trying to swim while being held in water. Manny twirled his gun, and pulled himself back into the SUV once more, running a hand through his hair. "I need a drink." He said, rolling the window back up.