Siya watched, her expression guarded as Atticus, yet again, walked away from her. She dropped her eyes to the rough cave floor and stared at the ground while she collected herself. Feeding was always rather… stirring and if she could not indulge fully it always took her a moment to collect herself. Adding to that her own uncertainty about what it was that she was indulging in with Atticus, what her expectations were, her unvoiced hopes, meant that she was rather a mess. Despite mental confusion, physically she felt vital for the first time since that night so long ago. His blood was… intoxicating, invigorating, stirring and possibly the best thing she’d ever tasted. 

Her small pink tongue flicked out past her still tingling fangs and swiped across her lips as if seeking out one last taste of him. She lifted her hand and held it stretched before her view. With a smile of satisfaction watched the strange dark shimmer that seems to take her skin. Its effect was like that of a black opal, the way it took in the light and gave it back with a soft glow. Not quite light but something akin to it. Like a dark corona around her in the dimness of the cave. She liked the way she looked just then, not vial and bright like Veti, but dark and shimmery. Something mysterious. She closed her eyes and breathed in slow though her nose and then out again. Calming, steadying as voices drifted back and the sound of movement. 

Then a scream sounded and she opened her eyes in startlement, watching as Dr. Kinnon, who had been in Henry’s arms flailed and fell, clearly having woken from some nightmare. She let the others handle it, she was too far back to be of use and she did not know what had precipitated that. She would let Henry with his soothing ways tend to him. 

She walked, her pace smooth and graceful even as she hurried to catch up with the others. Mr. Hoyle seemed to be in a hurry to leave the cave and she did not want to be left behind. The cold wind howled in through the small opening of the cave and even though cold wouldn’t damage her, she didn’t much care for it. She wrapped her arms around herself and wrinkled her nose. She really didn’t want to go out there. 

That’s when Hoyle spoke up, explaining about the tooth, asking if someone had a way to get them to London. She turned her eyes to him when he mentioned Archibald Bain and watched him intently. She was still as only something undead could be as she considered. Something had happened to her when her line had been snuffed out in the scuffle last year when they’d lost Max. She’d been infused with a great deal of power, more than someone her age should have and she knew that the heads of the company had answers about what had happened, what it meant and they hadn’t been forthcoming. 

She’d learned a few things on her own, tricks and abilities and had the sense of how much more was left to discover. But she’d had a few near misses too, some dangerous side effects that had, as much as her concern for Veti, slowed her down from experimenting more than she had. But one trick she’d learned, that could be used for what he wanted. With the demonic blood thrumming through her veins she knew she could get them where they wanted to go even though it was further than she’d dared before. The question was, did she want to accommodate them? It was dangerous but it would work. It would make them indebted to her, she might get some answers. 

When the soft, nearly mad voice of Hoyle’s sister sounded that one word over and over she felt chills dance along her skin. The words had weight, all the weight of the universe for all their sing-song quality. One pale brow rose and her rosebud mouth tightened as she deliberated. Then stepping forward she stood before her employer and his mad sister. She was dwarfed by the man in his furred form but then she was used to that. She lifted her chin imperiously, her primadona nature on display as she stood before him.

“I can get us there and when the dust settles from this affair I want some answers.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. It rang with her certainty that she would be indulged. She might as well have used the royal We with the tone she used. 
She nodded her head as if that finalized it and held out her hands.

“Take my hands, anyone wanting to come should grab on. A good grip. We will be moving fast and I cannot guarantee the safety of anyone who lets go.”

There were things in between, things that followed, things that grabbed. Normally she moved too fast for them to catch, but then she’d never taken anyone in with her. She didn’t know how fast she could move. She offered none of this, just waited until all who would come had taken hold of her or Atticus or Hoyle. When they had she offered a regal smile, confident and certain and then she took them [i]between[/i]. 

Everything seemed to vibrate as she pulled them in, the air, the darkness, themselves. They slipped [i]between[/i]. Between what? she’d wondered even though, uneducated in this art, she’d been the one to coin the phrase for herself. But [i]between[/i] had fit. Perhaps they were slipping between realities? She didn’t know and she’d never been one for such pondering. She could travel there and so she did. The where/why/when of it didn’t matter, not really. 

Dark on dark shapes moved around them as they blurred past. Sporadic patches of dim grey light she hadn’t bothered to check out kept her eyes from fully adjusting to the dark. She felt the pull of weight from her passengers on her like wind tugging on clothing but it didn’t slow her down as much as she would have guessed. The Demon blood in her perhaps? Whatever it was it was a good thing because there were more shapes in the dark, more sensations of things reaching, chasing, wanting, than usual. She ducked her head down, as if to reduce her own drag and pushed herself, moving faster than she had ever done before and she felt the things left behind. She let herself be pulled, guided by memory and felt ahead of her a sense of familiar. She felt that strange change in the [i]between[/i], like expectation made physical that signaled that the journey was coming to an end. She slowed, or tried too but there was too much momentum and suddenly she burst through nothing out of [i]between[/i] into the room in the London Chapter of Bain and Hoyle where she and Atticus had spent the night. She careened into the wall, having let go of her passengers a second before. She let out a little cry on impact and tumbled to the floor. 

She lay there for a second, blinking away the image of dark on dark and let the lavish accommodations work their way in. She wasn’t sure if she was exhausted or invigorated by the journey. 

“There we go.” She said casually. “London, as requested.”