A wolf has escaped from Central Park Zoo...

At least, that's what the papers are saying. Anyone with half a brain who saw the second victim of this 'wolf' would know that this was the work of no natural creature. All that was left on the murder scene was a piece of scalp with a little blonde hair, a skull with the spinal cord still attached, and pints of blood all over the pavement.

For those in New York who knew of such things, the general notion was that a feral Lycan was on the loose. Hunters, Assassins, B.F.P... everyone involved in the non-mortal community... they were all worried. The longer this creature was allowed to continue it's rampage, the more the risk of the non-mortal world being unveiled to the general human population, and if that happened, then the race of vampires might just make their move to take over the world.





It was dark. Brandon Archer crept forward slowly, one foot at a time softly crunching gritty floor underneath him. His desert eagles point upward, flanking his head, his squinted eyes searching the darkness of the narrow tunnel. In the relative silence was a slow, regular drip of water on some unseen pipe. Archer had been hunting the succubus known as Sindel all day, and finally, this late afternoon, he had tracked it to this underground service tunnel of Chase Bank.

<"I won't deny it, am a straight rider...">

The Tupac ringtone of Archer's iPhone shattered the silence and the assassin looked down to his coat pocket. Suddenly Sindel screeched, diving from the shadows and striking Archer to the ground with a stiff back-hand slap, the power of which belied the petite frame of the succubus.

"Ugh!" Archer landed hard on his back, but he quickly lifted his head up to see the fleeing monster. He aimed his guns and squeezed the triggers twice each resulting in four loud shots. Sparks and pings told him he'd missed his target, and the monster, along with her shrieking, disappeared into the darkness. "Shit!" he shouted angrily, the ringtone and vibration of his phone still going strong.

He stood up, holstered one weapon at the small of his back and pulled the phone out of the inside pocket of his grey trench-coat. "What!?" as soon as he put the phone to his ear. "I'm kinda in the middle of something..................... alright, whatever....... yeah, on me way."

Archer hung up, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. After spending a full week finding Sindel, he finally laid his eyes and guns on her and now he was being called back to headquarters for something apparently more important. Now that sudden burst of adrenaline had worn off, he could feel the painful mark on his cheek where he was struck by the succubus. He looked at the phone in his hand, then down the tunnel where his quarry had fled. Sindel was supposed to put him in double-figures for kills. Now she was gone.

"For fucks sake!" With that, he headed back to a service ladder that would take him back to the oblivious 'real world.'

The musky smell that filled the cave, now mixed itself with blood and whatever types of herbs had been burning. Bloody fathers covered the floor as dim light filtered it's way through the cracks and holes above. Giving just enough light for the short brunette to search for what Lightening Co wanted her to look for after this kill. Though it might have been a little bit easier if they had actually told Wynne what she was looking for. Maybe then she wouldn't be standing in a cave with her shirt ripped up and bleeding while she looked for anything suspicious before the witches came back. It hadn't been as easy of a kill as usual, but it had been a fun hunt for sure, plus she still had her heart intact, so that was a big plus. She would sigh to herself if this cave didn't stink so badly she would likely taste it for a year afterwards.

Gathering up a few more things that maybe they were looking for, as she thought they were interesting at least, Wynne put them in the bag she carried with her. The screen of her phone lit up and she squinted her grey eyes looking at the new brightness lighting the dim area around her before answering it with a hushed tone. "Wynne….oh hi Susan." She spoke as she gathered some bloody fathers from her kill as proof of completion. "Um…it's probably going to take a few to get back in town." She threw the bag out of the hole she had crawled through to get into the cave. It was probably a good thing Susan wasn't there in person as she rolled her eyes so hard it could've hurt.

"Mhmm….right……right. Okay Susan I'll be there as soon as possible…..mhmm…mhmm okay bye." She quickly hung up before Susan had a chance to go on more. How was she supposed to get out of this cave if the woman wouldn't shut the fuck up. Putting the phone back in her bag, she looked over the place one more time, only finding a ring among the feathers that she stuck in her pocket before tipping the stand burning herbs on top of the feathers to send the creature she killed up in flames.

Climbing out of the hole into the fresh air again she took a deep breath before she made her way back to her car and changed her shirt before heading back into town. What they had for her had better be important if she didn't even have time to change clothes or get herself checked out.

Central Park was a nice place in the daytime. In Archer's opinion, it turned utterly miserable at night. At the time Archer's taxi pulled up, it was somewhere in between it's transformation. A few vagrants milled about with bottles of wine. Some moody, tired working folks headed to or from their shift. The young assassin stared up at the commercial tower across the road from him as the taxi drove off. A few bodies crissed and crossed his path before he headed over the road, to the looming office block.

"Archer," Sam, the receptionist greeted. Archer threw up a hand in leui of a wave. "Lost your bike again?"

He had. Yesterday, he'd crashed the motorcycle while chasing down his target. The whole thing turned into a footrace and massive circus, Archer had forgotten where he'd even left his vehicle. The young man looked at the receptionist and shrugged his shoulders as he passed., then entered the elevator which was already waiting for him. As the doors were shutting, he smiled, unable to think of any smart remark or quip he could make to sound like a badass. The truth was he should've been using a car, as he could actually drive those without nearly killing himself. But it just wasn't nearly as cool as riding a motorcycle.

She always rode a bike.

Sam shook his head disappointedly and went back to some work he was doing.

The elevator arrived at one of the classified floors, (Archer had to put a code in to do so,) and the doors opened to a giant, open office space; a room strewn with lines of desks arranged in different shapes and sections. It was busy, as always. Half a hundred people on phones, making international calls, interdepartmental calls, agent-to-agent, national government... there were a lot of conversations and arguments in the air. A man called David, veteran assassin, was walking around with a SPAS shotgun, trying to get someone to help him fix it.

"Archer!"

"Shit," Archer muttered. He didn't even get a chance to make a coffee.

The big office adjacent to the open-plan floor - the bosses office - was at the end of the room, and there was the boss man, red-faced and staring right at Archer.



"Get your ass in here."

Archer carried himself with a head held high on his walk of shame, getting a few looks from colleagues as he passed them. Some looks of pity, some derision, some amusement. "Alright, Guv," he greeted as he walked into the office of Sergeant Daniels, the department head. He hated his boss. Such a fucking try-hard, who'd go to an early grave with blood pressure issues if he wasn't careful.

"Don't you 'alright, Guv' me, you little piece of shit. Do you know how much damage you caused with that shit show yesterday!?" It was admittedly messy, but what was one supposed to do when a nonhuman serial killer just decides to book it above ground and run around in the daylight? Archer was about to explain as much but got cut off as soon as he opened his mouth. . "500K, Archer. Half-a. Fucking. Million. Dollars, Archer! That's the bill for the damages; repairs, compensation, hush money, media spin... all because of your fucking idea of what it means to be an agent!"

The tirade of abuse went on for another ten minutes. Some fresh new lines, sure, but mostly the same old stuff; how Archer was incompetent and never should've been allowed to become a fully fledged agent. How he costed the company untold thousands with his bull-in-a-china-shop antics. How he was on his last warning before being sent to work in the Antarctic for the rest of his life. Nothing Archer did was good enough for Daniels. A neutral assessor would totally understand why this was the case. According to Archer, everyone just hated him because he was English.

"Listen, forget the succubus. We've got other people on it now. We need you for this." Daniels dropped a massive file onto the desk in front of Archer, who thumbed through the pages looking for pictures. "Word around town is; It's a Lycan. Particularly nasty one, too."

"Jesus Christ," Archer exclaimed when he finally found a picture of a victim in the pages.

"Yeah, it's not good," Daniels agreed, sparking up a cigarette and going to his window to look out on the city. "I dunno, Archer, I think this might not just be any old Lycan. I think it's something big. We're getting calls from Italy. The Vatican are getting themselves involved."

Archer's eyes lit up. "The Vatican?"

"Yeah." Daniels noticed Archer's reaction. "Don't get excited, they're not sending your fucking mommy over." Archer deflated, but tried to hide it by being angry at the insult. "Oh, you thought she was coming back? Save your hopes for something else." That one hurt. A lot. Archer decided he'd had enough of this shit, grabbed the huge file and turned to leave. "Everyone's got their eyes on this one, Archer, the whole world. The Assassins, Vatican, Templar, Shogun... everyone is watching us right now."

Archer paused his exit to look at his boss who turned away from the window to give weight to his last words.

"Don't fucking screw this up."

Wynne let out an exhausted sigh as she parked her car in the parking garage. Part of her was surprised she didn't just sleep in this parking garage. As soon as she got done with one assignment, she was called in for a new one. She used a few wet wipes to wipe what blood she had gotten on her and fixed her hair and clothes before heading into the office building. She gave Sam a slight wave once inside, but he was on the phone at the moment and simply gave a wave back as she entered the elevator and entered the passcode.

The large office space was always so busy, hundreds of people talking once. Someone was always walking around trying to get attention, today it was David and his shotgun. Wynne makes a mental note to avoid that area if possible, she and David hadn't really got along during her linguistics period. Now she avoided him like the plague as an actual agent.

Her eyes snapped towards Sergeant Daniels' door hearing it slam, before seeing who came out and rolling her eyes. Another person on her personal avoid list. Someone waving at her caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she smiled a little heading over to Susan. "Hey, Susan." She greeted before handing her the bag full of stuff she had gathered from the cave. Only frowning a bit as it was almost snatched from her hand. "Hopefully it has what you guys needed, no one really told me what you were looking for."

"Oh I'm sure you did, it's one of those you would know if you saw it type of deals." Susan said, giving a little wave with her hand as she started laying the bag out and the people on her team came over to look at it too.

Wynne frowned at the dismissal of her point, because it was in fact not something she would know when she found. Or else she would have actually found it. After standing there awkwardly for a moment she sighed and started towards Daniels' office. "I'm going to want that bag back." She said loudly as she walked away. At least once she got to the office he wasn't yelling at anyone. It seemed like everything she was sent to the office to get an assistant that man was yelling at someone, or the phone, she wouldn't be surprised if he screamed at himself in the mirror when he was alone. She gave a knock at the door before opening it a bit. "You wanted to see me sir?"

"Took you long enough, sit." Daniels said not even looking away from his window and Wynne frowned a bit at the unwarranted anger and sat down. "Susan tells me you took care of the hograven for us."

Wynne smiled and nodded "Yes sir."

"Don't get cocky…Smith." He scolded "any other agent would have taken less than a week to get that job done."

Wynne sat there quietly frowning at him. Not really sure, rather to be more insulted that he was undermining the fact it had only taken her a week to get information, track the cave down, wait until the witches to leave the creature alone, climb in. Which she had gotten stuck the first time. Kill the thing and get whatever Susan needed to fuck around with. Or the fact he couldn't even get her name right, which she thought he kept doing on purpose. A large file was pushed towards her and she took it looking through the pages as he talked.

"I expect better on this assignment, it might even prove you're worthy of the agent title."

"Fuck, what even is this sir?" Wynne said as she looked over the picture of the victim.

"They're saying it's a Lycan, a particularly nasty one at that." Daniels said before shaking his head and taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Everyone is watching us right now. The Assassins, Vatican, Templar, Shogun, the Vatican are getting themselves involved."

Wynne frowned a little at the mention of the Assassins as she flipped through the file once more, skipping the victims picture this time. "I put Archer on this mission too." She looked up at him as he said that and opened her mouth to argue that she didn't want to work with that arrogant asshole, but he cut her off before she could. "He is going to fuck this up, undoubtedly and I need you there to fix it." She nodded understanding why this high of an assignment was given to her now, so she would probably be the one this fell on if something went wrong instead of the golden boy.

As soon as Wynne left the office she finally felt that she could breathe normally again and went back to her desk and started thumbing through the file. Able to escape into routine reading and background research.

"Excuse me, sir, spare some change?"

The man walked right past the dirty-dressed girl, seeming not to hear her. Penny scrunched up her brow in a scowl, then tried again.

"Excuse me... miss... spare some change? I've no home and I'm starving."

This time the woman looked, but shrugged her shoulders helplessly and continued to walk. This was not going well and Penny Brice was hungry. How cruel was this world that grown adults could walk right past a starving child without even considering offering help. Or throwing the poor beggar a few coins, at least. In spite of the lack of success though, deep down she was thoroughly enjoying herself. It was all like a fascinating experiment. In Penny's vast experience, she had come to conclude that it was other poor people who were the most charitable. After that, it was the low working class. And from there, the richer they were, the stingier they were. It was a rather odd scale, at face value, but then, those who had learned to acquire wealth would obviously hold it fast. People didn't usually get rich by being nice.

There weren't many people in New York who were willing to hire a teenager for work. And Penny was determined to start this phase of her life with nothing, and become something. So right now, she was homeless and begging. If she didn't get some donations soon, she'd be going without dinner tonight. She decided to be a little more aggressive next time.

"Sir," she called out, tottering meekly up to another passer-by and tugging his coat. "Sir, spare some change? I'm..."

"Get off me you little rat," the man wrenched away from Penny, shot her a glare of contempt and then was on his way.

Penny growled low in her throat. Ignorance was one thing, but insults. Penny did not like to be called names. She had recent memories in her mind of bullies in school, and the insult lit a fire of disquiet in the pit of her stomach. She began to march after him in her dirty black shoes. The rest of her attire was an unwashed, flowery dress with a red cardigan over the top. Her face might be considered cute if it was cleaner and she didn't have that angry, vengeful look in her eyes. Through the light crowd, she followed the oblivious man, her fists balled at her sides as her kept up with her quarry. The evening was here and she fancied settling down on the subway with a nice Big Mac and Fries.

Ah well, she thought. A proper meal will have to do.

The man turned down an alley and Penny followed. Judging by his suit, he looked like a man with a decent job. Penny wondered he did for a living. What insane, pointless job (or career) in this day and age, did he have? What did he think and feel? What did he know? It was not until he heard Penny's voice again that he turned around.

"How dare you..." He turned about to see Penny stood with her feet planted shoulder width apart. "...you ignore the pleas of a starving fourteen year old girl. Have you no heart?" She walked forward slowly and the man backed away a step, more in confusion than anything else. He wasn't scared at first, with the seeming lack of physical threat, but then outright terror struck him when Penny's eyes - even the whites of her eyes - become blood-red.

"What the hell...!"

Penny convulsed and her form grew, black fur sprouted quickly all over body and her nose elongated. The child's clothes began to melt away into nothingness as she grew, and within seconds, Penny Brice was no longer Penny Brice. In her place, standing six feet tall and weighing a dense and muscular 280lbs, was Baroness Aurora: The Malevolent - First of her kind and mother of all Lycanthropes. Saliva dripped from her razor-sharp teeth, her fiery gaze burning holes into the poor man who was statue-like in fear and disbelief.

Aurora lunged at the shrieking man..............

"You wanna bike!? I'll give you a bike!" Archer stormed out of Daniels' office... "I'll fucking run you ov..." ...slamming the door and drowning out the Sergeant's tirade. Swearing and huffing and puffing, Archer marched through the office booths. He passed, looking around at other people like David Cartwright - 'by the book' agent, rarely in trouble... people like Wynne Scottson - practically born and raised in the company, rose through the ranks in 'the right way...' every face he saw, he felt jealousy and undeserved anger towards. It was such a difficult job to be an assassin - an agent for Lightning Corp - how the hell did they not make mistakes that were highlighted and featured for all to see? So annoying. After crossing the office floor, he punched the button for the lift. Other than getting out of his way, no one else paid much attention really. This was nothing new. The young assassin looked around, fired up and ready to answer any comments nevertheless.

"Risk my life every night out there and this is the fuckin thanks I get." When the lift doors opened with a <BING> the assassin walked inside and punched the ground floor button. The doors shut and the lift began to descend. Archer shook his head and breathed out audibly. This job had been so much easier when she was around....................

Inside the Brunswick Road Cathedral, Archer ran up the spiral staircase of the steeple, taking the steps two and three at a time, golden guns in his hands. He didn't stop at the top, shoulder-barging the door through and aiming his guns about as he strafed inside the upper-most room of the sanctuary. When he laid eyes on the target, it took him a moment to realize the situation.

"Hahaha...!" he guffawed, holstering one of his twin desert eagles. "Hey Mac! Come look at this whoppin bannana!"

You could hear MacKensie Trydant's huge catapillar boots thundering up the staircase before she glided in, taking off her silver shades to put her emerald eyes on the vampire in the corner. The creature had fled to the nearest building as sunrise came, which, unfortunately for it, was a holy building. Now, even more unfortunately, it was trapped in the shadowy corner of the room, kept prisoner by the intruding rays of sunshine coming through the stainglass window. It had nowhere to go. MacKensie chuckled. "Well ain't that some shit," she remarked. Then, a little louder to their prisoner: "Haven't you had just the worst night?"

The vampire hissed at her. "One day, Trydant, you will get yours."

MacKensie waved away the retort. "Please..." she shook her head derisively. "I musta heard a hundred of you sucker-heads make the same claim. Each one of them has tasted stake." She drew a silver stake out to show him a sample. "Medium Rare." He hissed even louder. "Finish the job, Brandon."

Archer stepped forward and put two bullets in the vampire's skull, then he caught the stake his mentor threw to him and knelt down to drive it into the vampire's heart. The body started glowing gold before it burned up into sand and ash. Archer fished around the remains and retrieved his silver bullet casings. They could be salvaged later on. "Less than 24 hours from business to pleasure. That has to be some sort of record. I could do this job in my sleep."

MacKensie turned on her heels, making her trench coat whirl behind her as she exitted the room. "Good, because I'm leaving to go back to Italy today. You'll be on your own from here on out."

"Wh-" Archer span around, his face aghast with shock as he stared at MacKensie's back slowly disappearing down the spiral stairs. "What?"

"You're training's done, Brandon. You're an agent now."

Archer was rooted to the spot, the dusty remains of the vampire, Cicero, for company.

Outside the church, MacKensie was waiting, smoking a cigarette and watching cars pass with those cat-like, emerald eyes of hers. Archer often wondered how on earth the woman smoked twenty a day and still managed to outrun him all the time. She was special. She was MacKensie Trydant - The baddest bitch Archer had ever known. As he fell in beside her, she turned her head sharply to regard him, then sharply back with a smirk. "Awwww," she purred. "You're upset. I'm touched."

Archer was a little embarrassed but no more-so than she'd made him before. It had been two and half years since she'd saved his life in Ninth Avenue Subway Station, but it had all flown by. Even with all she'd told him about her life, all the clues and hints she'd dropped, he never considered that she would one day leave America and him behind. Or at least, he'd never wanted to consider it. "I thought we were a team, Mac."

"Don't be such a pussy," she shot back as she waved a black cab down. It did a U-turn and pulled up next to them. "I don't fuck pussies." She gave him that unsmiling but playful look that would normally melt his kneecaps, but today it didn't. She dipped into the cab and Archer followed.

The ride was in silence, MacKensie studying Archer as he stared out of the window at the scenery. He waited for her to speak so he could tell her, 'Fuck you, you could've warned me!' but she never did. They never spoke another word to each other ever again. Archer stopped the cab near his apartment in Brooklyn and got out without even so much as a glance at his former mentor. He heard her give the driver directions before the cab drove off. Immediately he regretted his decision, but what was done was done...................

<BING> - The lift doors opened.

There was plenty of work to be done and the night was young, so Archer walked through the through the city to Club Brood - always his first port of call when he had a new assignment. A man called The Wizard owned the place. MacKensie had introduced him to The Wizard, a man that was no mortal, to be certain, but Archer wasn't exactly sure what he was. MacKensie neither. Some kind of demon, perhaps. Apparently, The Wizard was everywhere. Literally everywhere. All the time. He owned property and businesses all around the world and he personally attended every one, every single hour of every single day. Apparently. He was, as to be expected, always well-up on current events in New York when it came to the underground, non-human scene. An indispensable source of information who was always happy to help his friends, and Archer was a friend... apparently.

He turned up at the club and bypassed the queue of punters, walking straight up to the double doors that were sentried by two, six-six mountains. The music was thumping even stood out front. The bouncers recognized him and stepped aside. Reaching into his pocket, he leisurely pulled out his silver shades and placed them on carefully, nodded to one of the bouncers and walked in. Club Brood felt like it was literally shaking and it had only just turned dark outside. Inside, the only light came from neon blinkers, traffic lights and strobe lighting, illuminating the crowds of sweaty people dancing to synthesized techno beats. His sunglasses made it harder to see in the dark club but it was worth it. The non-humans in Club Brood always recognized the silver shades. They feared them. It represented MacKensie Trydant.

He navigated the crowds with a turn of the shoulder here and a gentle push there, arriving at the bottom of a metal staircase blocked off by someone with his back turned. Archer tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, a mean look on his face until he saw who it was. Promptly, he raised his hands in surrender and stepped aside. Archer gave a teethy grin, his laugh completely muted by the deafening music. He went up to the second floor and there, a man was waiting with open arms. "Archer. A pleasure to see you." He didn't shout, yet his voice was clear in the ears of the agent. "Go on up," the man continued. "I am waiting."



High up above, at the massive window of his private quarters, Sergei Romanov, also known as The Wizard, stood and watched his club. He stood with his hands linked together behind his back. His suit was jet-black and expensive. His slick, black hair was gelled back and shiny, highlighting a thin, pale face.

"The post-modern age..." he mused. "Don't you just love it, hmm?" The man sat over on the cushioned seats smiled, exposing the short fangs of shape-shifted demon. Serge continued. "Elves and dwarves, dungeons and dragons... witchcraft and wizardry..." he turned from the window and strolled into the centre of the room. The room itself resembled the lounge of a penthouse suite. Decked with a fine, white carpet - there were leather, cushioned seats, a bar in the corner and cream wallpaper. "...The Great Cataclysm... The Sumer Empire, the Romans, European feudalism... I've seen it all, my friend. But Western Capitalism, well... I have to say; it has been the greatest age. Perpetual-growth business, the military-industrial complex, Wall Street, lightspeed communication... and it turns out, after all these years, that the stars are not gods nor heaven but places to go. How can you not love that?" The demon laughed out loud this time and Sergei smiled, though he needed little encouragement for his eccentric soliloquys. He was about to continue when he was suddenly distracted. "Ah... we have a guest."

Not longer after did a knock come at the door and it opened, revealing Mr Brandon Archer.

"Come in, my friend," again Serge greeted him with open arms. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Archer took off his shades and put them in his inside coat pocket. "I think you might know."

"Tell me anyway," Serge shot back playfully, gesturing to a set of sofas on the opposite side of the room to where the humanoid was sat. Archer sat down and Serge carefully placed himself on the sofa opposite, then crossed one leg over the other. Here, Archer explained the situation, about the mysterious beast that was attacking innocent civilians. Serge listened tentatively, but the young assassin got the feeling that he knew all this already. The Wizard was everywhere, after all. All the time. When Archer was finished, there was a brief silence, then Serge got up. "Would you like a drink?" He made his way over to the bar. "Jack Daniels," he said, reciting Archer's favourite drink. "And you, sir?" he asks the humanoid, who politely declined with a shake of his head.

"Cheers," Archer said not very enthusiastically. He knew he had to play along with the Wizard's game to get the prize but he wasn't known for his patience. Sergei had noticed this about Archer from early on in their relationship and he liked to push the assassin's buttons. He would do as entertainment, for a while.

"So..." Sergei started. In his glass was a large ice cube sculpted perfectly into a rosehead. With the vodka it swirled around his glass. "...Lightning Corp joins the race for Aurora." Archer's chin raised slightly as he tried to keep a poker face. Sergei smiled. He was so easy to read. And so fun to toy with. "For every point you earn, I shall tell you something about your Lycan. I think that sounds fair, hmm."

"What's the game?" Archer asked, radiating a hopefulness that it would be something he was good at. Sergei wasn't sure exactly what that game would look like. His private room wasn't big or suitable enough for any kind of athletic challenge.

"The Game of Kings," Sergei replied, getting back up to retrieve a chess board and two bags of pieces from nearby.

"Oh yeah, what's that then?" Sergei handed him a bag of the white pieces, and placed down the board on the table between them. "Please be checkers... aw, for fuck's sake."

That made Sergei chortle, and even got an involuntary laugh from the humanoid in the background. "I trust you know the rules." Archer replied affirmatively. "One piece of information per point."

Wynne sighed softly as she read through the file for the fourth time. For such a big folder she expected there to be more useful information. Sure there were victim pictures. Victims that somehow made it out alive reports and graphic details of their friends murder. But nothing was the same, the attacker's appearance was described differently every time. Which made absolutely no sense. Hell in the one it was a woman saying she ran from her son eating her abusive husband. Not that Wynne could even question the witnesses because they already had their mind wiped. Sitting back in her chair she placed her hands on her head trying to clear her head for a minute before deciding she would definitely need help with this. Glancing at her watch she gathered the folder in her bag and headed towards the elevator.

"Hey Wynne, hold up a second." Someone called from behind her and she saw Susan catching up with her. "Just wanted to give you your bag back." She said, Wynne smiled a bit, taking it and giving a simple "Thanks" before continuing to the elevator. As she turned to push the buttons she noticed that Susan had followed her into the elevator. After the doors closed there was a moment of silence before she side glanced at Susan who was staring at her. "What's up Susan?"

"I just wanted to check in on you. I heard you might have to deal with the Assassins watching what you're doing." Susan noticed the deep frown on Wynne's face though she wasn't looking at her. "And after everything that happened with your dear father…."

"I'm fine Susan." Wynne said not looking at the short older woman, her voice coming out a little bit rougher despite her words. "Besides they aren't watching me, they're watching my assignment." She added, thankfully Susan seemed to get the point that this wasn't a conversation she didn't want to have because there was another bit of silence before she spoke again.

"Well, what we were looking for wasn't in the bag sadly." Susan said after a moment while watching Wynne as the doors opened.

Wynne sighed, she was already tired before coming back to office and Susan had managed to throw her mood even more to shit. "I mean I tried Susan, you won't even tell me what I'm looking for." She said with Susan following her towards the parking garage.

"I just wanted to make sure that you didn't forget to give us anything you gathered." That caused Wynne to stop in her tracks.

"Honestly Susan? I gave you everything I found to gather for you." Wynne said sincerely, because it wasn't a lie she had given them everything that she had gathered for them. This seemed to pass Susan's little human lie detector test. Because she apologized and soon Wynne was left alone to walk to her car. Once she got driving Wynne took a few extra turns just to make sure that Susan didn't follow her. This wasn't something she had to worry about on a normal day but there was sometimes like this that good information was bought and right now the ring she had taken from the cave was burning a metaphorical hole in her pocket.

Once she was sure she was simply being paranoid she made her way to Onyx Tea and Wonder Shop. The small building was on the edge of town, flowers and vines adorning the windows to give the whole place the look that it had somehow been retaken by nature. If I wasn't for the open neon sign you would think it long abandoned. Though at the moment the light was off and the figure standing in the doorway was in the middle of flipping the closed sign as Wynne approached. The tall woman on the other side of the door frowned at Wynne, her different colored eyes looking the agent over. From the first glance she looked like nothing more than a harmless hippie. Long wavy hair then reached to her waist with a few strands tied around a light blue string, her clothing looking straight out of the seventies. After a moment an identical woman with green string tied around her braided wavy hair peeked out the window and smiled giving Wynne a little wave before speaking to the other one who rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Wynne! Come in, come in. We have been waiting." The one with the green string said in greek gesturing for Wynne to come in and Wynne smiled entering the shop.

Wynne smiled at her as she entered the shop, the rich earthy smell of loose leaf tea filling her senses. "Thank you M." She said before the last of the beings commonly known as The Triplets came into the room and held her hand out to Wynne, digging in her pocket she placed the ring in the woman's hand and watched them all three gather around the ring and chatter in a language she didn't even know before the one with the blue took the ring and left the shop.

"Aww Wynne, it's so nice to know you are as capable as we saw." The last woman called K spoke, as she gave Wynne a big friendly hug. "Come come child, let's get tea and speak of Aurora, yes." She spoke before heading into the backroom leaving Wynne behind to follow.

"And he has cheek to tell me get off phone!?" Yusuf exclaimed wildly. Archer snorted. "I said, Ateeq... you no pay no bloodeh bills in this house..."

Archer liked Yusuf's rants. He barely listened to the details, but he enjoyed the man's foreign brand of extravagence. Yusuf was wagging his finger at the young agent - who was sat at a table in the kebab shop - as if it was Archer who was his son.

"...you no pay no bloodeh rent. You no pay no bloodeh water. Gas. Electricity. You no pay bloodeh phone bill!" This time, Archer laughed out loud. Yusuf went on. "His girlfriend laughing on the line. He embaress. I don't care."

For a long time now, Archer had been coming to this same kebab shop. It was hardly healthy, but there wasn't many places a creature of the night could get something hot to eat, and the young man never did much cooking. And Yusuf wasn't about to complain at the regular custom. At first, Archer was just another customer, but after regular visits, the chatty shop-keeper had begun to make conversation with him. Upon early inquiries, Archer had told him that he was a night-shift street-sweeper, which wasn't an outright lie, Archer thought. But Yusuf wasn't stupid. Luckily, he wasn't that intrusive or indiscreet either, so the two of them got along fine.

"Kick him out," Archer offered casually. Then, as an after-thought, "Why on earth have you still got a house phone, in this day and age? Doesn't he have a cell?"

Just then, a drunk couple wandered into the shop and Archer went back to looking through the Lightning Corp case file on the mysterious Aurora. Aside from the locations of the murder scenes, the file was complete garbage. Compared to the information that The Wizard doled out, most Lightning Corp case files were complete garbage. It made him wonder how other assassins did their jobs so effectively. I guess everyone has informants, he thought. A shadow came over his table and he looked up to see the woman eyeing his papers, and promptly covered them with his arm. If Daniels or anyone else found out that he was reading his case files out in public like this, all hell would break loose, but Archer didn't care much for the regulations of his workplace. As a general rule, he didn't care for much of anything. The woman took the hint and swayed back to her boyfriend's side at the counter. Archer watched her with a degree of contempt, but his face changed when he saw the shop television, and the headline that was scrolling across the CNN news segment.

As the couple took their kebabs and left, Archer pointed at the TV. "Yusuf, turn that up a bit, mate."

<"...and the wolf that escaped from the zoo in Central Park, Manhattan, is still on it's rampage. Police Authorities are asking citizens to stay indoors, after dark, until the beast is caught...">

"Crazy shit," Yusuf remarked.

"Yeah," Archer agreed. "Who the hell goes to the Zoo to see a wolf, anyway?"

Yusuf grunted. He started muttering to himself as he went into the back of the shop. Just then, Archer's phone started vibrating.

<"I won't deny it, am a straight rider, you don't wanna fuck with me...">

"What's up?" It was Titus Hart, from Field Support; one of the few people Archer considered a friend. He was looking for a 4th teammate for an online videogame tournament. "I'm busy with that one thing, but I'll let you know if I'm done early............ Alright."

"Your boss?" Yusuf asked as he came back to the front of the shop.

"Yeah," Archer lied. He shoved the last of his kebab in his mouth and licked all his fingers, then grabbed a napkin. Yusuf watched him curiously, as if he wanted to pry. Archer gathered up his papers and got up before shoving the case file back into his waistband, behind the gun-holsters at the small of his back. "I'm off, mate. I'll see you, yeah."

"Take care, Archer."

Archer blindly threw up a hand in leui of a wave as he walked to the door, and went out into the night, Yusuf watching him as he did.

Using some of the skills he'd accrued in his life back in England, Archer broke into the oldest looking car he could find, on the street, hotwired it and drove it home. When he got inside, he threw the case file in the bin and grabbed his police scanner. He double-checked his guns. Full clips of sliver hollow points, blessed with holy water for added zing. One already in each chamber, as he'd been taught.

Stay ready so you don't have to get ready.

Out on the streets again, driving around, scanner on the dash, he listened to the police calls coming through as he thought about the clues he'd managed to collect from The Wizard. It wasn't much, this time around - The Wizard had beaten him soundly in the chess match, before he could trade down all his pieces.

She was the head of powerful noble family.
She doesn't need the moon to transform.
She likes dogs.
She's learning the new world around her.
She likes to play act.
She feeds on both flesh and soul, gaining both sustanence and knowledge from meals.
She likes to be rocked to sleep. Underground.

Archer pulled up at some red lights. A few people crossed as he stared, one hand on the wheel. She likes to be rocked to sleep, he thought. Underground. That clue stood out to him. It wasn't for another hour, that he heard a police call on the scanner that would give him his lead.

<We got a 10-20 in Lafayette Subway, please respond.>

"The subway," he said aloud to himself.

The subway. Where else can you be rocked to sleep, underground. It kinda made sense. And it was the best answer he had. Pulling out his iPhone, he brought up a map of the local area and figured out the closest subway, then promptly executed a tire screeching U-turn and hit the gas.

Ninth Avenue Subway. It was a location burned into his memory - the place where he'd found himself being toyed with by a gang of vampire teens. He'd almost become food that night. But then MacKensie Trydant showed up.

After his life of petty crime in London, England had gone too far... After he'd messed with the wrong gang members and found himself, life in danger - a bounty on his head - his mother had put him on a plane to New York, to live with her brother, his Uncle Eric. His life of petty crime in England was over. While his Uncle Eric tried to sort out a work visa for the 19 yr old, Archer made some friends on the streets and managed to start a new life of petty crime in New York. But that life hadn't lasted long. He walked into Ninth Avenue subway station, that fated night, as a petty criminal and come out of the station with his true 'new life.' A career came shortly after. Hell; a US citizenship too. Everything had changed. His mother called him Bran. His friends in England called him 'A-Dog.' Now he was Archer; an assassin - agent of Lightning Corp. A prefect behind the veil. A keeper of the peace between humans and non-humans.

Archer parked in the carpark next to the station. He figured that if he went down into the subway and just checked all of the trains on the circular routes of the northbound and southbound lines, he might find his target. Homeless people had been known to try and steal a nap on trains before. Usually they'd be found by train inspectors and thrown off, but Archer guessed it would take a different kind of authority to make Aurora do anything she didn't want to do.

The car engine died, and Archer scanned the streets habitually, before getting out. It would likely be a long and boring night.