Title: "Soulmate"
Author: EA Karras
Series: The Mountie Slayer: Gehenna
Disclaimers: Due South belongs to Alliance.

------

"Why is everyone upset? I once knew but I forget.
Something's happened, something strange. Something it appears has
changed..."
"Change", Oingo Boingo

One month later...

It had been a long, lazy Saturday morning all alone with Ray, some music,
a pot of coffee, a dwindling box of Smarties, and no plans beyond dinner
that evening.  Lucia was busy in the library, Jay was happily rebuilding
the  transmission on Tony's car, Turnbull had taken Mina to a country
western concert, and Dief had asked to spend the day with Ma Vecchio.
The day was theirs. And because of the partial immunity to the sun that
get possesed for a short time, they didn't have to worry about being
interrupted should the morning become a bit more active for the two of
them.  
Fraser had taken what was for him a decadently long shower and was even
now finishing up toilette with a shave.  He was almost done, carefully
shaving off the last bit of stubble from his chin and neck, when he felt
a small sting.	

Finishing quickly, Fraser was wiping his face when he spotted the nick,
a thin line of red against the white of his throat.  He made a face,
annoyed at his own carelessness, and was about to wipe it away when the
bathroom door was yanked open to reveal a wild-eyed Ray Kowalski.  Fraser
blinked as Ray stepped closer, sniffing the air like a bloodhound  He
was focused.  Intent.  
On Fraser's throat. 
 
He was drawn to the tiny cut on the Mountie's neck, fascinated.  His
eyes held a strange light and in a thrilling rush, Fraser saw that Ray's
eyes were almost blue again, almost close to normal.  He stared, not
exactly sure how to gauge Ray's reaction and conduct.  He'd seen Ray
fixated on things before, but this was just a tiny swell of blood.  
He was startled when Ray kissed him, those long fingers tangling in
Fraser's
dark hair as he massaged the back of his head. He'd been kissed by Ray
well and often, and while it was in no way unusual for the impulsive
American to randomly pounce out of nowhere, this was exceptional.  
Ray was all but devouring him. 
 
Fraser rapidly discovered being devoured was a very good thing. 
 
An appriciative moan escaped Fraser as those talented lips moved from
lips to jaw to throat.	He was shocked when Ray suddenly licked at the
trace of blood, taking it in with the last drop of shaving creme.  It
didn't seem to bother the detective.  Nothing would at this point.  Except
stopping.  
"Ray..." 
 
He felt Ray's breath on his skin and tried to get him to look up.  The
American had his prize, though, and Fraser could not pry him away.  
The steam from the shower was making him dizzy. 
 
Or maybe that was Ray... 
 
He was not prepared when ray bit him.  Hard, but not hard enough to draw
blood. Just enough to keep the small nick flowing.  It really didn't
cause any pain and the newness, the closeness and intimacy such an act
ushered in was arousing unto itself and unlike any sensual contact they
had ever shared.  
Still. there was a definate risk and Fraser arched his body against Ray's,
his fingers running through Ray's hair, trying to pull the detective
back.  He stopped when he noticed Ray's hair was wet and...inky? And
smelled kind of...what was the word Ray used often? Rank. Definetly rank.

But those lips and those teeth banished all thought as he felt Ray drink
from him, sucking at the small wound, his long body thrusting against
Fraser's in time with the Mountie's pulse.  The Constable gasped and
Ray  moaned. 
 
"Ray.  Ray, don'..." 
 
His eyelids fluttered as Ray continued to draw upon his throat.  It was
so different from the last time that there was no comparison.  This was
not frenzied or frantic.  This was slower. Gentle. Giving.  
That first time had been lust. 
 
Now it was love. 
 
Actually, upon consideration and reflection, it felt good.  The sensation
was dizzying, true, but it felt...nice.  Floaty.  It occuured to him
that  Ray was not trying to hurt him.  He hadn't taken that much blood
and the feel of his lips and teeth and tongue on his throat was positively
stimulating.  Erotic, even.  
"Oh...Ray...Ray...wai..." 
 
He only then became aware they were half lying on the floor of the
bathroom,
Ray's lesser weight pinning him down.  A sudden coolness as Ray drew
back, a strange movement and shift of weight and something warm and salty
hit his lips.  Fraser groaned as Ray settled back into the bite and he
tasted his lover's blood. So strange that this should be arousing.  A
heady elixer that was such a part of Ray.  It tasted like Ray, strong
and warm with an  odd tang.  Fraser knew he could so easily be
intoxicated.

Pressure built, pleasureful pain, and not only from the bite.  Why was
this so arousing?  Opening his eyes drunkenly, he lifted a hand to Ray's
wrist, not sure if he should go on or what to do about the shallow cut
that seemed to call for his attention.	
"Ray?" 
 
A momentary relief as Ray smiled down at him, a warm light in those
almost-black
eyes.  "Just wanted ya to see how it feels fer me...s'okay if you don't
take too much."  
It was...it was an experience unparalelled.  This was Ray, all of him,
body and heart and soul, gladly, freely offered to Fraser.  This was
what drinking his blood felt for Ray?	It was...increadable.  Small
wonder he was so eager. 

"You, too," he breathed as he pulled Ray back down and felt the bite
continue.  Ray groaned as Fraser bit down on the wound he'd made in his
own wrist. Briefly, very briefly, he wondered about the wet, black ink
on his	shirt. 
 
Very briefly. 
 
Maybe Ma Vecchio would keep Dief on Sunday, too. 

Ray was beginning to get a little friendlier than simple bloodletting,
when a loud rining pierced the silence of the bathroom. The oven timer?
He heard Ray swear against his neck. "Shit..." 

"mm...cooking?" Fraser's voice was slurred, drunk with passion.

"Well...I was..." Ray grinned at his dazed and happy lover, nipping
gently.
"Screw it. I can deal with itching..." 

***

Ray woke up half sprawled on Fraser's body, his hair itching like crazy.
It took him nearly a minute to remember why they were on the floor and
when he did he grinned. 

Fraser was down for the count, and it took Ray an agonizingly long time
to get him to their bed. He scratched at his hair, annoyed and frustrated
and hoping Fraser would wake up sooner rather than later. 

He made his way towards the kitchen sink on shaky legs, determined to
stop the itching now so he could concentrate on his mountie later. 

The water turned dark beneath his massaging fingers and a few minutes
later he groped for a towel, noticing a small sound from the bedroom.

Fraser woke up in bed. Ray must've dragged him in here after their
escapade
in the bathroom. He smiled, remembering and looked at his shirt. A large
purple stain had spread over a quarter of it. "Ray?" 

"What?" Ray's voice was muffled. The sound of someone towel drying his
hair. 

"My shirt's purple."

Silence. "I'm sorry."

"Did you spill grape juice on m..." Fraser's mouth dropped open when
Ray entered the bathroom. He opened and closed it several times, barely
making a sound. 

"Careful, Frayze. You'll catch flies." Ray ran a hand self consciously
over his head, sitting next to his lover. "What? What's wrong?" 

"Your...hair." 

"Yes?"

Fraser wondered if he didn't notice. Or if he himself was seeing
something.
An affect of the blood loss. He closed his eyes and opened them. No.
It had to be Ray. "Are you...mentally fractured in some manner, Ray?"

Ray blinked with surprise. And amusement. "That's nice, Ben. Really."

"Your hair."

"Yeah. It was hurting."

"So you....purple, Ray?"

"Nightshade, actually. I haven't done the roots yet. They're gonna be
red. Mountie Red." He grinned wider. "Are you ok? You look like you're
gonna stroke out." 

***

Turnbull stood at the desk across from Warfield, and  glared at the young
vampire who had insulted him. A harsh, guttural word from the Prince
made the man back down.  
"Marco!  You shame your clan in this, our house!  The Constable is my
guest."  
Argued Marco, "He's a Slayer!" 
 
"And you are a fool!" snapped Warfield.  "You do not think.  Henceforth,
Marco, this man's life is your responsibility in my territory. If harm
in any form befalls him, you will be to blame.	The Slayers in this city
are sacrosanct, just as the Knights are."  
Marco retreated with an unhappy growl leaving Turnbull with the Prince
and Zuko.  
"What brings you to my house, Seeker?" asked Warfield, waving Turnbull
towards a chair at the table beside him.  
"I came to warn you." 
 
"Warn me?  Isn't it your role to eliminate my kind, Renfield?" 
 
"My role is to find a peaceful balance.  There can't be one until Lilith
is stopped from this rampage."	
"Rampage?" echoed Zuko.  "She's been mighty quiet for a rampage."  

"Last month was nothing.  She just wanted to get to Elder Kowalski."

"I take it she did." 
 
"Indeed.  Kowalski drained her, almost."  Turnbull clasped his hands
on the polished mahogany table before him.  "The transfer of blood was
too much for a ghoulite and he vomited up her blood-"  
"Such a pity," murmured Warfield. And it was. Lilith's power in a
ghoulite...it
was unheard of. It might have been interesting.  
"It made him very sick for a long time.  We later found out, though,
that she deliberately let him drain her so that some of her power would
overtake Ray.  He's been acting strangely lately and I can see her
influence
in him. I'm afraid of what will happen to him when she calls again. 
He may be helpless to resist her."  
"Dark hair and dark eyes," said Zuko knowingly. 
 
"Is /that/ why you've been asking him to dye his hair?" demanded Turnbull.

Frank Zuko smiled.  "Partially.  We really /were/ allergic to the color,
though."  
"So was he, apparently."

"So what is your warning?" Prince Warfield asked mildly. 
 
"Lilith is not dead and it's her intent to kill Caine. She's going to
use  Ray as a cover and as a pawn.  He has some of her power in him now
and he	doesn't understand it. He barely /knows/ it."  Turnbull and
Frobisher
had not thought it prudent to tell him just yet.  
"What do you want us to do, Seeker Turnbull?" Zuko shot back. 
 
"I want you to alert Caine." 
 
"Consider it done," said Warfield before Zuko could speak. 
 
"I also want to ask you a question." 
 
"Ask.  For the sake of the House of Rachel, if I can answer, I will."

"Do you know of any possible way to save Ray Kowalski's life?" 
 
The ancient eyes bored into Turnbull's.  He stared back unflinchingly.

"I may." 
 
As the Slayer was escorted out by Marco, Zuko turned to his Prince. 
"Do you think it will work?" he asked with wry admiration for the
audacious
plan.  
"It may.  Not many other things will at this point.  That is why I'm
entrusting the job to you." 
 
"Me?" 
 
"Elder Kowalski was made your responsibility, Franco.  He needs help
now, he just doesn't know it."	
"He's dangerous." 
 
"Perhaps, but he's an innocent and an Elder and he has great capacity
for good.  He is a powerful ally, especially with the Slayer and the
Seeker at his side."  
"You like him." 
 
"More than his Mountie.  He takes his role as Elder far more seriously
than I expected." Warfield cast a look at Zuko. "He must not know it
is you."  
"He won't." 
 
"Then I am satisfied." 
 
***
 
One week later...

His shift was over, it was a Friday, Fraser was working late at a
Consolate
function but would be home by nine - life was good.  Ray Kowalski
stretched
at his desk.  He'd actually made a dent in his paperwork. There'd been
a lot of it, he'd been gone nearly a month. He'd have to stop doing that.

Another day like this and there might even be a light at the end of the
tunnel.  
Lt. Welsh stalked by.  "Kowalski!" 
 
"Yes, sir?" 
 
"Your hair is purple." 
 
"Yes, sir." 
 
"Does that strike you as particularly professional for a police
detective?"

"My hair hurt, sir." He was very glad the lieutenant hadn't seen the
red.  
"You ain't kidding.  Dye it black, for god's sake, will you?" 
 
"I tried, Lieu.  This is what happened." 
 
"Try, try again, Kowalski.  This weekend." 
 
"Got it, Lieu."  He smiled as Welsh returned to his office.  All day
he'd  been telling everyone he'd tried to go black and failed. 
Truthfully,
though, he'd gone right for the purple.  It had been worth it for the
look on Fraser's face. It had taken Fraser nearly a day to recover from
the shock.  
"Hey, Frannie!" 
 
"No, Ray." 
 
"Won't even let your former older brother take you out for dinner?" 

"You still eat?" 
 
"Thanks, Frannie, I can just feel the waves of love.  Yeah, I eat.  Do
you want to?"  
"Let me get this info to Rosetti and you can take me to the Symphony
Caf."  
"Deal." 
 
An hour and a half later, he was dropping Francesca at the Vecchio house
and upsetting Ma.  It wasn't the hair, she barely commented on it (though
she thought it was a nice shade of purple), no, she was horrified by
how thin Ray had gotten since the last time she'd seen him.  The end
result of her reaction was that Ray Vecchio got a smack for not telling
her and Francesca was sent to make coffee and Rosa Vecchio forced dessert
on her auxiliary son.  He didn't mind.	It was nice to have a family,
even if they weren't his. 

His family, when they'd found out about his ghoulitism and being elder
had practically shunned him. He'd spent weeks in a funk over that.
Snapping
at everyone, even Fraser.  
It was eight when he left the Vecchio's and headed home.  All in all,
an excellent day with the promise of turning into an excellent weekend.
He parked the GTO with his usual care and as he got to the car, he knew
there was someone nearby.  Someone undead.  Damn.  He scanned the area.
Not one of the McGets.	Maybe they were having a party.  Doubtful...

"Elder." 
 
He whirled at the soft voice.  Not one of his. Shit. 
 
The blow came from behind, slamming him to the ground between the parked
cars, the Riv and the GTO.  Ray struggled to get his legs beneath him
when he was hit again.	 
Hard.  For a moment, he saw a brightness in his mind that had nothing
to do with his vision.	Then there was blackness.  
*** 

Tony lowered his newspaper, momentarily as he heard a sickening thump.
He briefly pondered going out to see what it was, but heard the GTO start
up and shook his head. Better to wait. 

Besides, the commercials were over.
 
***

Blinding light. 
 
He couldn't open his eyes.  Not even a crack.  Whomever had nailed him
had nailed him good.  He was flat on his back on something cold and hard
and damp in someplace that smelled of dust and sewage.	He was restrained,
too. Prone eagle with cuffs on his wrists and what felt like rope on
his legs 

How Hollywood. No need to blindfold him.  He'd forced his eyes open
earlier
and it was simply too bright for him to see anything without his glasses.

His head hurt like hell, as much from getting hit as from the  
migraine-inducing light.  How long had he been unconscious?   What the
hell did whoever do this want and why?	
"Hey!" he called, determined to get results.  If only to drive them nuts.
Maybe get rid of this sun lamp that was going to fry him to a Polish
fritter.  "Hey!"  
Silence.  No street sounds, nothing.  Just him breathing and occasionally
cursing and struggling against the cuffs.  He hated this.  He hadn't
been too badly hurt - well, okay, he was hurt, but he'd been hurt worse
than this in the past - but where the hell were they?  Was it Saturday?
Fraser would be going nuts trying to find him.	Was it even past nine
and did Fraser even realize he'd been kidnapped?  Where would he look?
He'd be stuck at the  Consulate because Ray was supposed to go pick him
up when he called...He had a sudden mental image of Fraser anxiously
calling the apartment and growing more worried with each passing moment.
Oh, god, Fraser... 
 
A whisper of a sound.  Ray froze, straining his ears to catch the
direction.

Another. 
 
Another. 
 
At least three of them.  Vampires.  Were they Gangrel? Back for some
weird revenge? No. They wouldn't. Calhoun had been cast out, Lilith's
judgement. Warfield had said /he/ was Gangrel Elder and as such they
couldn't hurt him.  
Hell...
 
Was that another one? 
 
Suddenly the mental image of another letting raced through his mind like
a runaway train - there was no stopping or turning it aside.  
/Oh, my god!  No!  NO!/ 
 
Panic gripped Ray Kowalski.  Sheer terror such as he had never before
felt. He struggled wildly, felt the cuffs cut into his wrists as a scream
rose from his throat.  
"No!  NO!  Keep away from me!  NO!" 
 
Still no sound but him; powerful hands grasped him.  He was held down
bodily, crushing grips on his arms and legs.  
"NOOOOOO!" He was practically shrieking with terror. Not again. Not
/again/.
Where was Fraser's dad? He'd know what to do.  
A savage blow across the face almost knocked Ray out again and he reeled
from the pain and shock.  He remembered Calhoun, those vicious assaults
upon body and mind that had almost killed him.	Oh, god, would Fraser
find him dead?	Worse yet, undead? He wasn't ready for that.  
Someone else was there, moving carefully so that his body never blocked
the light. He felt a touch on his bleeding wrists, but the person resisted
any temptation to drain him that way.  Ray writhed, the ropes pulling
tighter on his legs.  Oh, god, get him out of here...He strained
desperately,
tthrowing his head back and arching his back.  For one dizzying moment
he caught a glimpse of a skylight far overhead and he saw...blue sky.

God, it was /day/ how could they be out?  
 
Suddenly his lips were forced apart and he tasted the salty tang of blood
in his mouth.  What were they doing?  He struggled, but the man seized
him by the hair and smacked his head on the floor hard enough to make
him groan.  
Something was forced into his mouth again.  A wrist?  A wrist torn open
to allow blood to flow freely.	It filled Ray's mouth, wedged his jaws
open so far he couldn't even bite.  Could barely even breathe.	
Abruptly, he didn't mind. 
 
A warmth flowed through him, filling him.  He choked on the first mouthful
of blood, unable to refuse and live.  The second mouthful he swallowed,
the third he eagerly sucked from the open wound when the wrist was yanked
away again. He coughed, suddenly realizing what he had done.  God, he
could have drunk form something as poisonous as Lilith...  
Coming to himself once more, he tried to resume his struggles.	If he
could only vomit, as he had done with Victoria...  
Without any warning, darkness returned and he was suddenly free.  He
was soon to find this was by no means a good thing as large hands hauled
him upright.  The first blow landed in his stomach, doubling him over
with a bark of pain.  Another shot to the head, then to the ribs, and
then he lost track as he was thoroughly and ruthlessly beaten to
unconsciousness.

***** 
 
It was cold again.  Damp again, too, from the rain.  Rain?  It wasn't
supposed to rain until late Sunday.  Had he been lying here through the
night?	Ray Kowalski tried to open his eyes and was marginally successful.
He was staring at something gray and dirty.  A cement wall.  
Slowly, his ribs screaming, his back aching, his whole entire body 
protesting,
he raised his head.  He was in an alley way in god only knew what side
of town.  He struggled to turn his head, his nose picking up some smells
only Fraser could appreciate.  
Fraser! 
 
With an inarticulate cry he tried to stand.  The sun was barely peeking
over the buildings but it was still too bright for him and he knew he
had to find help /now/.  He needed to find Fraser. Let him know he was
alive.	
His legs were fainting under him as he staggered to the end of the alley
and onto the sidewalk.	A few people were waiting by a bus stop, among
them a cop with a cup of steaming coffee in her hands as she chatted
with a construction worker.  A man in a suit tapped on her shoulder and
pointed at Ray where he leaned against a wall and the officer hurried
over.  
"Sir?  Sir, are you all right? Do you need help?" 
 
He fumbled for his ID, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm a cop.  Got
beat down.  Where am I?"  
She steadied him with one hand on his shoulder.  "You need an ambulance."

"Where am I?" demanded Ray in a mumble. 
 
"Houston West." 
 
Not far from the Consulate.  Too far for him to walk on his own.  

"I need to get to the Canadian Consolate.  You know where it is?" he
asked, pulling out his wallet and handing it to her.  
"Yeah, a few blocks over." 
 
"Get me there." 
 
"You Kowalski? There's been an APB out on you since midnight on Friday!"

"Consolate.  Now."

***

Fraser gingerly examined the bruises on his lover's body, trying very
hard not to aggravate them. "Nothing looks broken. You're sure they were
vampires...?" He was angry. Angry that this had happened again, that
Tony had heard /something/ but had not investigated. Angry that he hadn't
been there. 

"We know our own.." Ray whispered, gasping in pain. Turnbull hovered,
not quite as concerned as he should be. "God...it was day..." 

"Day walkers." Turnbull nodded.  Day Walkers, vampires who had immunities
to the sun, usually stayed in sunny places. But maybe Warfield had some
stocked up. It had been difficult for him to get blitheringly hysterical
as everyone expected from Constable Turnbull. He hadn't expected Zuko
to hold Ray for so long and he wished the Elder hadn't let his men beat
Ray so thoroughly, but appearances must be maintained. 

 It had been difficult for Fraser and the men and women of the 27th.
The Constable was as close to a calm hysteria as Turnbull or Vecchio
had ever seen him.  He had deliberately come to work an hour early,
ostentatiously
to vacuum, but in truth he was waiting for Ray.  Zuko had promised to
leave him someplace close to help.  
Welsh arrived at the consolate, bringing Diefenbaker with him.	The 
werechild
ran straight for Ray and climbed into his lap, never holding still long
enough for Ray to actually pet him, just sniffing and checking his other
human to his own satisfaction.	
"Calm down, Dief," ordered Fraser. 
 
Welsh watched from the doorway. "How is he?" His arms were crossed,
leaning
back against the door. There were dark circles under his eyes. He'd been
up the whole weekend, aiding in the search and his relief at finding
Kowalski whole and relatively well was evident in his fond gaze.  
"Sore," volunteered Kowalski. 
 
"I believe he has a mild concussion," Fraser answered briskly.	"He 
sustained
at least three blows to the head." 
 
"Probably because of that hair.  And don't tell me that's natural." A
brief pause. "Are those red streaks?"  
Ray chuckled and instantly regretted it. 
 
"Hospital.  Now." 
 
"Lieu - " 
 
"Now, Kowalski." 

***

Fraser had been right about the concussion. The hospital had wanted to
keep him overnight for observation. He'd said 'uh uh, no way' and had
checked out AMA. 

He lay next to Fraser, the mountie's arms around him loosely. His eyes
were drooping closed. The pain killers the hospital had given him were
working quick. "Ray?" Fraser whispered, running his fingers through the
dyed hair. It was softer. Henna dye, maybe? 

"Umm?" Ray could barely keep his eyes open. His jaw wouldn't close all
the way. 

"Did they do anything else? He traced the tattoo, planted a kiss on Ray's
forhead. "There aren't any bites." 

"No," Ray lied. "Just the beat down..." He curled into Fraser, settling
his head on the Mountie's shoulder. "'night..." 

"Good night..." Fraser knew Ray wasn't being truthful. He wondered exactly
what had happened.  It was evident there was more to this than what he
was saying.  Still, Ray could not be pushed into things of this nature.
Fraser knew eventually the truth will out.  All he had to do was wait.

Still,	something was bothering him.  He wasn't quite sure why, but Ray
seemed too calm for a victim of kidnapping, too unconcerned.  Especially
a kidnapping by vampires.  Somehow, this attack almost seemed to have
benefited him if  you looked past the bruises and the concussion.  Fraser
didn't understand.  
Perhaps Turnbull could help.

***

Vecchio stared at Stella across the dinner table. "They found Stan."
He felt a creep of annoyance at the barely registered recognition.
"Vampires."

"Again?" She smirked. "He's practically a magnent this year." Her vengence
demon ires were up. She /hated/ discussing her ex husband. She far
preferred
to publicly humiliate him. 

"Yeah. I guess."

"How many times does that make?" She quipped. "Three? Seven? Fifty?"

He shrugged, trying to ignore her. When she got on a tangent like
this...best
just to say, he felt for Stan. 

***

Fraser opened the door to his office, slowly. He could hear Turnbull
speaking on the phone in hushed tones. "Thank you, Prince Warfield...yes,
he does seem to be better. For now..." 

Fraser paused, his heart humping hard. This couldn't mean what it sounded
like. No way. 

"Have you contacted Caine?"

His knees actually felt weak for a moment as the implications hit him.
What  was Turnbull doing?  
"Yes. Yes. Understood. Thank you." 
 
The brief conversation was over.  In an uncharacteristic display of
emotion,
Turnbull let out a long sigh and lowered his head.  He seemed...relieved.
Grateful.  He took another long, deep breath to compose himself, then
then he returned to work with his usual misguided energy.  
Fraser blinked, feeling betrayed, and in that instant, Inspector Thatcher
walked through the front door. She immediately spotted Fraser where he
stood in the door to his office and  barked, "Constable!"  
Fraser actually jumped, caught with a shocked expression on his face.
Turnbull whirled, catching the look his friend and superior wore and
a wave of guilt came crashing down upon him.  
Fraser had heard.  He'd heard, misunderstood, and now felt betrayed.

"S-sir," Fraser managed to respond. 
 
The Inspector's eyes narrowed. "I need you to take some diction."  

"Yes, sir.  Right away." 
 
He didn't glance in Turnbull's direction as he followed Thatcher into
her office. 

***

He looked in the mirror over the sink and sighed. He felt fine. He was
fine. Everything was fine. He closed his eyes, not really believing
that.His
Mountie hadn't said anything, but he knew Fraser was freaked because
Ray wasn't freaked by the attack.  Yesterday at the hospital he'd been
calm as he gave his statement to the investigating officers.  Not all
of it was untrue.  He remembered nothing beyond the actual assault. 
No sounds, no sight of the vampires, only being beaten to a pulp and
being force-fed blood.	And now he had a totally upset Benton Fraser
on his hands.  He wished Fraser's shift would get over soon, he needed
to tell him everything that happened.  Fraser knew he was holding back.

The phone rang, and Ray picked it up. "Kowalski." 

Silence. Heavy breathing. Great. One of those calls. Then: "Elder...."
The voice was hoarse. Harsh. But he recognised it. 

"Calhoun?" He ran his hands through his hair. He didn't like the guy,
but he had saved his life once. "What's up?" 

"You're in danger, Elder..." A half hysterical laugh. Calhoun sounded
drunk. "Your son's in danger. Fraser...he's not in danger..."  
"What're you talking about?" 

"Beware the Gangrel Antitribu." A click. Ray stared at the phone,
confused.
Daywalkers, Gangrel with funny names, unhinged undead. What the hell
was going on?  He dialed the consulate. 

"Canadian Consulate, Constable Benton Fra..." 

"Hey, Ben. Can you put Turnbull on?" 
Silence. Fraser sounded uncomfortable. "He's....busy." He was lying.
"What do you need, Ray?  Is everything alright?" 

"Calhoun just called me. Said something about a Gangrel Anti-Trick, or
something. Know anything about that?" 

"No, I...it doesn't sound familiar." 

"So put Turnbull on." Ray frowned at the silence. "Ben. Fraser, what's
wrong?"  
"Nothing, Ray." He could almost hear Fraser rubbing his forhead. "Hold
on."  
A few moments, then Turnbull picked up the line.  "Constable Renfi-"

"Turnbull, it's me.  Lissen, Calhoun just hung up on me." 
 
"Calhoun?!?" 
 
"Yeah.	What's the big deal?  Calhoun. Anyway, he said I'm in danger,
Dief's in danger, but Fraser's not and then he said something about
Gangrel
anti-ticks or anti-tribes or something nutso.  Should I care?"	
"Get out of there now! Get Diefenbaker and leave immediately! Take your
gun, Ray, and get out now!"  
"Why?  What the hell's wrong?" 
 
"Calhoun is autarkis!  He has no clan anymore! Lilith cast him out! 
He's on a blood hunt!"	
"Shit!" 
 
"Don't use the main door!  Don't take your car!  Run!" 
 
"Christ!" 
 
He dropped the phone and ran. 

Kowalski snatched up his holster from the cabinet by his bed and shrugged
into it, snatching up his jacket as he screamed for the werewolf. Grabbing
Dief on his way through the kitchen, he ran towards the fire escape.

Together, he and Dief pulled at the window. Someone had nailed it shut.
"Shit!" He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing and running
with the wolfkid at the same time. 

"Can..." 

"He's nailed the fire-escape shut! Whadda I do?" 

"You'll have to go out the main door...be quick. Run very fast." 

"He'll catch me..." Ray was running down the stairs, gripping the wolf's
hand hard. 

"Not if you're fast enough. You can be, you have her blood." 

*** 

He came out of his office the moment he heard the alarm in Turnbull's
voice.	What was he telling Ray?  To get out of the apartment?	Why?
Fraser stared at the frantic Turnbull, not sure what to think. "What
are you telling him? What's he saying?"  
There was no denying the fear in the younger man's eyes as he looked
at Fraser.  "Calhoun's after him, sir.	It's a blood hunt." 

"Did you send him?" 

"What?" Turnbull gave his superior an odd look. "Ray, where are you?"

*** 
"Out the door. He's not here. Where now?" Ray was breathing hard, his
heart pounding in his chest, too frightened to think. 

"Consulate. If Constable Fraser's not in danger..." 

"Right!  I'll get there when I get there.  Tell Fraser!" 
 
He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. His head was pounding
and he was so dizzy he thought he would vomit on the spot.  It was close
to lunch time.	The streets were fairly busy.  Good.  Cover.  They would
stick to the crowds.  
"Pitter patter, Dief," he said, clutching the boy's small hand.  They
set  out at a trot, all that Ray thought he could manage at the moment.

*** 
 
"Turnbull, what exactly is going on here?  Did I or did I not overhear
you conspiring with Prince Warfield not an hour ago?  What do you know
about Ray's kidnapping?  Is he in danger?  Answer me, damnit!"	
The younger man gazed up at Fraser, desperate for him to understand.

"Sir, may we speak someplace more private?" 
 
"My office, Constable Turnbull.  Now." 
 
**** 
 
Closer.  He could feel them homing in on him.  How many?  Calhoun was
one. 
   
What the hell had happened with him?  Autarkis?  What hadn't Fraser told
him?  Another blood hunt?  
Guess he owed it to his Mountie to tell him all. 
 
If he lived that long. 
 
What had Turnbull called them? Daywalkers?  What did that make the rest
of vampire kind - nightcrawlers?  How many?  How many?	Should he call
for a car?  Naa.  Last time some Assassins had shot up the Riv and Ray
at the same time.  
"Stick close, Dief.  We gotta cross this street.  They're close.  Damned
close." 

A car screetched to a halt in front of him and he nearly fell over with
the effort not to run into it. "Watch it!" He screamed at the driver.
Then nearly fell over again when he saw who it was. "Zuko?" 

"Get in!" Zuko shoved open the passenger side door. Ray could feel Calhoun
getting closer and didn't hesitate a second. He jumped in, pulling Dief
with him. "I'm taking you to the council. You'll be safe there." 

"I have to call Fras..."

"You bring the Slayer into this, and Calhoun /will/ kill him. No matter
what he said. You're too important to him not to." He shifted gears.
And a bandage on his wrist showed. 

Ray saw it before the Giovanni elder could hide it. "You." He leaned
forward, sniffing deep. "It was you..." 

***

Vecchio picked up his cellphone, looking at Stella with contempt.  Another
lunch date ruined. He wished he'd never mentioned finding Kowalski. She
just hadn't shut up about how horrible she thought he was since. God
only knew what she'd do if she knew what he was. 

"Vecchio." 

"Ray." Fraser. He sounded distressed, like he'd found out some horrible
news. Oh God. That could only mean one thing. 

"Fraser, is Stan all right?"

"Calhoun."

"He's back?"

"He's called a bloodhunt. The Sabbat. They're after Ray." A pause. "He
was running, on his way here from home. With Dief..." 

"They haven't shown up?"

"No."

"When?"

"An hour ago."

Vecchio glared at Stella as she tried to get his attention. He poured
a cup of her special brew coffee and winced as it went down. Stuff tasted
worse than the squadroom sludge. "You called the cops?" 

"No. I called you. I thought maybe he took a detour, tried to throw them
off." Something else was wrong. Vecchio could tell. That sort of strained
tone was in Fraser's voice. 

"Benny? What is it? Is there something else?"

A pause. A long one. "Just...come to the consulate, please."

"On my way. You need anything?"

A snort. "Like what?"

"Anything. Coffee?"

"We have coffee here, Ray..."

"Not this coffee...."

"That'd be great. Thanks..."

He looked up to see Stella glaring at him across the table.  Wiping his
mouth, he threw down his napkin and rose, kissing her on the cheek and
ignoring the steely look.  
"I have to go. There's trouble and Ray may be hurt." 
 
"I thought he was hurt already." 
 
"Alright.  Ray may be more hurt.  I'll be with Benny at the Consulate
if you need me.  Love you."  
"Hmph." 
 
*** 
 
Benton Fraser sat in his office and held his aching head.  A blood hunt.
Another blood hunt.  The last had almost killed Ray.  He remembered
finding
the detective in the abandoned building, his skin whiter than snow and
his body so cold to the touch that Fraser thought he would never be warm
again. Never before in his life had he been so frightened as when he
lifted Ray into his arms that day.  He'd thought his lover was dead.
And now Calhoun was after him again...	
"Sir?" 
 
Turnbull handed him a glass of water and he forced a sip down his throat.
It almost gagged him.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Fraser finally managed. 
 
"I didn't know it was Calhoun until Ray called.  When he attacked
Detective
Vecchio in the pass I didn't know about Lilith's order not to kill any
humans.  When Lord Aja said Lilith had cast out a Gangrel I still didn't
suspect Calhoun.  He was loyal.  Ambitious, but loyal and he did protect
me and save Detective Kowalski."  
"And Dief?" 
 
"He has Ellery's blood.  Ray is the more desireable of the two, but no
Sabbat would pass up the chance to drink an elder's blood."  
Fraser considered and had he not been so completely frightened for his
lover and his werewolf friend, he would have blushed.  He could understand
that viewpoint.  
"Warfield?  What do you have to do with Ray's kidnapping?  You arranged
it, didn't you?  /Why?/  You saw how Warfield's men beat him!"	
"His body will heal, Constable.  I'm trying to save his life." 
 
"I don't understand." 
 
"Victoria allowed him to drain her.  Ray has more power than he
understands
right now.  She is turning him into her host, a being of pure Gangrel
stock that will equal her in power and stand with her against Caine."

Fraser could not find any words to answer.  The Seeker hurried on.  

"Warfield, all the Caanites, cannot allow their sire to be destroyed.
At my request and in concord with Prince Warfield, we have...corrupted
Ray.  That kidnapping was souly to get him to ingest Caanite blood so
now he'll have as much of Caine in him as Lilith and hopefully that will
spare his life when Gehenna comes."  
"He's...not an ancient.  Not like Aja." 
 
"But Lilith's blood in him is."  

***

Ray sniffed Zuko once more, and glared at the annoyed look the giovanni
elder gave him. "Get yer nose outta my face, Kowalski." Zuko may have
to watch the ghoulite, but he didn't have to like it. Right now he was
more than willing to throw the guy to the Antitribu. Sabbat or not. 

"It /was/ you." Ray accused, holding onto Dief and the door as Zuko drove
like a maniac. "Why?" And why could smell it? That was weird. That was
so...Fraser.  
Zuko gave him another look. "Warfield'll explain it to you. Right after
he thanks you for fixing your hair." He gave a double take. "Purple?"

"Let me out." 
 
"Like hell." 
 
"Pull. Over." Ray's voice was like ice. "Pull over now. I'm not going
anywhere with..."  
He heard Zuko's gun click. "You'd rather be out there with them? Fine.
Get out."  
*** 
 
Fraser took the cup of coffee from Vecchio and thanked him. He took a
sip and made a face. Vecchio looked a bit hurt. "What? Not good?"  
"No...it's...It's just I was unaware you preferred the taste of boiled
rats."	
"It's not that bad, Benny." 
 
"No. I didn't mean that as a figure of speech, Ray. Where did you get
this?"	
"Stella." Vecchio wondered if he was really green or he just felt it.

"Ah." 
 
"Don't tell me." 
 
"It's just, Vengence Demons often..." 
 
"Please, don't." 
 
"Understood. 

***

Ray stilled, knowing his options were limited. He knew when to back down
and the time was now.  Zuko snickered to himself and slid the gun back
into its holster at his side.  Ray swallowed, his head swimming as he
asked, "So why'd ya help me?"  
"Orders.  I'm your guardian angel, Kowalski." 
 
"Since when?" he grumbled, shoving Dief over the seat into the back.

Zuko kept his eyes on the road.  "Since you became elder." 
 
"Should I thank you?" 
 
"Just doing my job." 
 
"Thank you."  He couldn't say why, but he knew he was safe with the
Giovanni
Elder. He figured Zuko didn't have much reason to eleminate him.  How
much of a threat was he to anyone?  
"So why'd ya beat me flat?" 
 
"You were kidnapped.  It had to look like it was real." 
 
Ray sighed, letting his head drop into the head rest behind him.  "Good
job.   Your goons gave me a concussion."  
"Actually, that was me." 
 
For the sake of Dief and survival, he ignored the vampire. "I have to
get word to Fraser."  
"The Slayer is safe for now.  Leave him out of this." 
 
"I have to let him know I'm safe." 
 
"Are you?" taunted Zuko. 
 
"You tell me." 
 
"For now." 
 
"That's supposed to be comforting?" 
 
"No." Zuko grinned. "We're here." 
 
*** 
 
Vecchio picked up his cellphone. "Vecchio." 
 
"Hey." 
 
"Stan. Where are you?" He gripped his phone tight, looking at Fraser.
The Mountie looked pale. "Where's Dief?"  
"We're safe. We're ok." Ray wasn't very forthcoming with his location.
He sounded uncomfortable.	 
"Where? Where are you?"  
 
Fraser stood up, "Let me talk to him." He took the phone from Vecchio,
holding it shakily. He hadn't realised how scared he was. He'd almost
lost him again. "Ray? What's going on?"  
"Nothing, Ben. Nothing's going on. Me and Dief'll be home as soon as
this is all straightened out."	
"When?" 
 
"I don't know. Soon, I hope." 
 
Fraser felt a pang. He hadn't felt like this since Vecchio had gone
undercover.
No.God, no. "Ray, please. Where are you?" 

"I'm safe, Benton.  We both are." 
 
Fraser closed his eyes.  Ray called him Benton.  It was part warning
and part of Ray's telling him he loved him.  
"Ray," he almost stammered, desperate to keep him on the line, to hear
his voice a bit longer.  "Turnbull's told me more.	About the
kidnapping."

"Yeah, I know.	Warfield ordered it.  I don't know why yet.  Benton, I
gotta go.  Keep the McGets safe for me, will ya?"  
"Ray..." 
 
"'Bye, Benton." 
 
He gripped the phone.  Never in his life had he felt so lost. 
 
*** 
 
Warfield sat in his usual chair at the head of the mahogany table and
regarded the ghoulite using his phone. At least he had the sense to take
his advice and keep the Slayer out of this.  He was a scrawny specimen
and right now he was so pale it was hard to tell he wasn't undead.  
"I see you colored your hair," Warfield stated as Kowalski hung up the
phone. "Thank you.  I hate sneezing."  
"You gonna tell me what the hell's going on?" 
 
"Soon.	Would it suffice for now to tell you that you have valiant friends
who would gladly risk your ire rather than let you be lost?"  
"I dunno." 
 
"You need to sleep, Kowalski.  Franco was excessive in his treatment,
I'm afraid.  I have a room prepared for you and your..."  
"Son." 
 
"Son.  Come.  You can eat when you wake up.  Then We must talk." 

*** 
 
"Where would he have gone, Turnbull?" Vecchio demanded, staring the
hapless
mountie down. "His parents? Is he even in town?"  
"I don't know. Did you try that star..." 
 
"They blocked it. Where would he go?" 
 
Turnbull shook his head. "I don't know." He truly didn't. "I'll call
Warfield. Maybe he'll know."  
"No." Fraser was staring out the window, rubbing his arms. He was very
cold suddenly."No, he's safe."	
"Benny..." 
 
"He's safe. He would've said if he weren't." 
 
*** 
 
Calhoun stared at the consulate. His hair was mussed and covered in dirt.
A grin was permanently plastered on his face. He hadn't fared well in
the last month. His autarkis status had taken it's toll. He cursed softly.
He'd grown soft compared to the vampires he lead.  He had been dependant
upon a clan and he had paid the price.	
He'd been ecstatic to be brought in by the Antitribu. They needed an
elder. And they would fare well with Ellery's blood. They just needed
to get it.   
*** 
 
Ray lay on the hard bed, staring at the ceiling. At least it wasn't a
coffin. He didn't think he could take that. Dief was asleep next to him,
and he mussed the wolf kid's hair gently. "We'll be ok..."  
The wolf stirred in his sleep, whimpering. Ray nodded again. "Yeah. We'll
be ok." 

He pulled the blanket over his head and wrapped himself around the little
boy that was so dear to him.  Sleep, the heavy listless sleep of the
wounded, claimed him.  
*** 
 
"Prince Warfield?" 
 
"Yes, Franco?" 
 
"The Lord Aja has arrived." 
 
"I will speak to him first.  Kowalski is more fragile than we allow for.
Allow him to sleep himself out.  We must move slowly.  And we must prepare
Lord Aja."  
"I think Kowalski will awaken long before Lord Aja is ready, Prince."

"You are an impudent son, Franco my boy.  I will accompany you to greet
the lord."  
***

Ray tried to open his eyes, but they felt weighed down. Someone was
watching
him, touching him. Gentle touches to his face. "Fra..." No. The hands
were too rough. Diefenbaker? No. Too old. His tongue felt thick in his
mouth. Something was wrong. Vision. Oh God, his head felt ready to
explode.
/Oh God, Fraser. Please come hold me.../ 

His body shook, quaking in pain. He felt Dief pull back, whimpering as
he woke up. Flashing images. Dief. Lilith/Victoria. Someone he didn't
know. Vecchio. Fraser. Blood. Fraser. Screams. Fraser. Oh God. Fraser.

In his pain, he realised the Elders had no idea about his flashes. This
should be interesting. 

"Ahh! God..." His head smacked the bedboard as the convulsions got worse.
Dief whined, backing away. The room swam, images coming faster. Horrible
images. Gardino's explosion. Great. Irene. Blood moons. Ellery. Victoria.
Biting Fraser...oh. 

Oh. God.

Fraser...

His breathing quickened, and he /really/ hoped no one was watching. 

"Interesting..." a nonfamiliar voice said, quietly. He bit back a moan,
barely noticing that his nose was bleeding. A moment of clarity in the
rushing images...he leaned in to kiss the Mountie, soft, warm lips
yielding
to his, felt those big hands upon his skin trailing fire at their touch.
He felt thick, silky hair beneath his fingers.	Oh, God, don't ever
stop....

Fraser lowering him to the bed, kissing, feeling, stroking with wanton
posessiveness.	His weight, his warmth felt so good, so real, Ray arched
himself closer to the image in his mind's eye. 
 
"Mine," whispered Fraser, the love evident in his blue eyes.  "My Ray."

Pain crashed down upon him again and he heard a voice screaming,
screaming,
screaming.  It was him.  Dief was howling in despair, a wolf once more.
He wanted to hold the werewolf, ease this overwhelming terror, but he
couldn't move.	He felt strong arms lift him carefully and hold him
closely
as his body convulsed.	
A stick?  A rod?  A baton?  Swinging.  Striking white flesh.  Drawing
blood.	Spattering on him.  He saw the blood run down to a red collar,
saw a faint  bite mark above the collar.  Fraser.  Someone had Fraser.
Was hurting him.   Beating him.  Pale dirty hands.  An insane smile.

Calhoun. 
 
"...no, no, no,no, nonononono! Fraser!"  He tried to scream.  His voice
was  just a whisper.  He weakly clawed at the arm holding him, barely
aware of  what he was doing, just desperate for some kind of action.
"Fraser...frase..."  
Aja sat on the bed in the darkened office, supporting the ghoulite prince
even as he studied him.  A child.  Just a child.  Strange powers he 
posessed, but a love as great as few men had been privleged to know.

"Shh," he whispered, as much to his trembling charge as to the anxious
werewolf.  He reached out and smoothed Diefenbaker's head and scratched
behind his ears.  "He is my son, garou.  I would not hurt him."

"Help him...god...please..." Ray gasped, trying to grip the arm that
supported him. 

"We will. Don't worry...." Aja smoothed back Ray's newly darkened hair.
"Rest." 

"I gotta..."

"Rest. I have seen to the Slayer's safety."

"Who are you..."

"You'll know me soon. Rest."

***

Fraser stepped out of the consulate, immiediately aware of the fact he
was being pursued. He could smell it in the air. The rank smell of vampire
sweat and Canadian dirt. Calhoun. 

He walked faster, half running towards Ray's apartment. He questioned
the wisdom of leaving on his own, but he hadn't been able to contact
Mina or Jay to alert them to this new situation and when they weren't
at their respective homes or work, they were normally at Ray's. 
  
He's tried calling, but with Jay around that was useless.  They hurt
his  ears so badly he wouldn't answer them at all and Fraser hesitated
to leave a  message.  Ray had taken Turnbull to speak to Warfield, and
Fraser knew his  presence would only serve to incense the vampire prince.

He moved quickly towards Ray's apartment, sometimes running, until the
sensation of being pursued faded.  Still he hurried, anxious to get back
before Ray and Turnbull, both of whom would frown on his stepping foot
out  of the Consolate. 
 
If Calhoun couldn't find Ray or Diefenbaker it was logical to assume
he was	the next viable target. That was Fraser's guess anyway, either
as bait or a  hostage. All he had to do was alert the McGets and get
back to the  Consolate.  He would take a cab back.  Night was approaching.
He ducked  into the apartment building, running up the stairs and into
familiar  territory.  The safety of home. 

A sabbat vampire was waiting for him in the apartment. Fraser froze dead
in  his tracks, staring.  "No." 

"Where is he, Constable?" Calhoun whispered, grinning quietly. 

"I don't know." 
 
He shoulder exploded in pain as the vampire hit him. "I can smell him
on  you. You drank from him...." Calhoun pulled Fraser close, sniffing
deep.  "Ellery. Kowalski...Lilith." 
 
"No..." 
 
Calhoun grinned. 
 
*** 
 
Ray's eyes opened wide. "I need to call him, I need to warn him..." He
felt  hands on him, restraining him. "Please! I have to call..." 
 
"How do you know it hasn't already happened?" Zuko demanded. "Lie still
and rest!" 
 
"Let me go!  I have to save him!  Calhoun's gonna try to kill him!" 

He felt the old hand again and immediately calmed. "Childe. There's
nothing
you can do...." 
 
"No." 
 
Ray looked at him, grief and helplessness etched on every line of his
face.  
Warfield entered the office, dimming the lights more. "Lord Aja. We've
received confirmation. The Slayer was taken.  My men were too late."

"No..."  Aja sighed.  He was not angered.  Rather, he looked to Ray as
Diefenbaker climbed into his lap and held him tight.  Then the detective's
black eyes narrowed. 
 
"How did /you/ know, Zuko?" 
 
"Your flash hit me as hard as it hit you only I'm not recovering from
pneumonia and a concussion.  My men were moving before the flash was
done.  Calhoun must have moved just a minute or two after you felt it."
Zuko grimaced, looking at Warfield to see if he would meet condemnation.
The prince shook his head. There were bigger issues here and he certainly
wasn't going to reprimand his best lieutenant in front of the lord and
his  peer. 
 
Ray closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope Zuko couldn't see him blushing
scarlet.  That had been one of his more intimate flashes...not that he
minded, but the undead population of Chicago really didn't need to see
what  a naked Benton Fraser looked like from his point of view, thank
you.  Dief  whined, sensing something amiss with his other human and
curious.  
"I have to go find him." 
 
Warfield shook his head in admiration for this ghoulite's loyalty and
perhaps his foolhardiness, too.  "Prince Kowalski, where would you look?"

Ray was taken aback.  "Prince?" 
 
"The Seeker didn't tell you?" 
 
"Tell me what, Warfield?" 
 
*** 
 
"God damned traffic." 
 
"Oh, Detective!  Language!" 
 
"I hate rush hour."  Vecchio threw himself back into the seat of the
Riv as they waited for their chance to inch up another foot or two. 
"So, Turnbull, why do you need to talk to Warfield so much you left work
early?"  
He fidgeted with his Stetson and Vecchio was suddenly struck that while
Fraser's Stetson was a sacred object for veneration, Turnbull's didn't
make the grade. Then again, there /was/ Her Majesty's portrait to contend
with...  
"Beyond this whole situation, I need to ask him about an elder I met
in  Canada.  I couldn't find any record or lineage for this man.  He
did say we  would meet again, I just want to be ready for it when it
happens."  
"Did you believe Fraser about that boiled rats in the coffee thing? 
I mean,  where would Stella get rats?" 
 
"She might trap them.  She could possibly buy them." 
 
"And boil them.  For my coffee." 
 
"Did she extend the same affectionate gesture towards Detective Kowalski
when they were married?" 
 
"I don't know. No she probably spikes his Smarties." 
 
"I believe the Constable." 
 
"I could have lived without hearing that, Turnbull." Vecchio made a face.
He felt...something in his teeth. No. Couldn't be. 

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Vecchio shook his head, pouring the rest of the coffee out the
window. 

:"If it means anything, Vengence Demons rarely feed an unloved one
precious
animal life." 

"That's great. Thanks." He shook his head. "Remind me to pick her up
a coral snake." 

"All right."

***

Ray rubbed his face, sitting up. "How can you be sure? Just because some
legend says I'm a...a...a host?" He went on at Aja's nod, "Doesn't mean
I..." He touched his forhead, closing his eyes tight. "Oh." 

"Kowalski? What?" Zuko gripped his wrist, tight. "What's the matter?"

"I don't...I dunno..." He flinched. 

/Ray./

Her voice. /Her/ fucking voice in his head. "No..."

/Ray. It's time to come to me..../

"No..."

Diefenbaker growled, shifting into wolf mode again as he jumped to the
ground. 

Aja looked distressed. "It wasn't enough. He didn't take enough." 

/Ra-ay.../

Ray fell back, his eyes fluttering shut. He could see he on the steps
of the 2th. . Gesturing at him. Calling for him.  Waiting for him. He
felt a movement above him. 

"Lord Aja, what..."

"He'll have to take it from me. Hold him."

***

Stella picked up her phone. "Kowalski speaking."

"Mad...Ste...." the voice was hoarse. Pained. Afraid. "...Ray...." 

"Who is this?"

"Fr..."

"Constable Fraser?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you unwell?"

"R...Ray?"

"He's still looking for my ex husband." The disgust was evident. She
raised an eyebrow again. "Constable, is something the matter?" 

"Cal...talk..." 

"Madame Kowalski?" Calhoun sounded completely insane.

"Who is this?"

"A friend of your husband's sire."

She paused. "Excuse me?"

"Aw....didn't he tell you? Too bad. You tell Elder Kowalski that if he's
not at the zoo in three hours we'll take the blood from his mountie."

"His mountie. What's going on? Who /is/ this?" Ray, she was sure, had
done something completely stupid. Again. 

Another laugh. "Guess."

***

"Mr. Zuko?" 
 
"Not now, Marco!" 
 
"Mr. Zuko, the Seeker and Detective Vecchio are here. They're looking
for you and Prince Warfield, sir."  
Zuko quietly cursed, looking to Warfield for guidance.	The Prince nodded
it was safe for him to leave.  He could tell Lord Aja needed a bit longer,
but Kowalski wasn't struggling anymore and they could manage between
them.  
He could hear voices, sense emotions.  The Seeker - for none of them
had  ever met Turnbull - was restrained, trying to mask and control the
fear he  felt for his friends.	Strange that he should not fear
them...that
he should  put such faith in the word of a gangster prince and the
grudging
protection  of a near-get that had insulted him.  The Seeker was right.
He could trust	Warfield and he could depend on Marco.	

Vecchio was different. He was frightened of them and the situation and
it showed in his voice and breathing and heartbeat.  There was added
tension, too, at the sight of  Zuko.	Old rivalries did not die and the
ghost of Irene would forever be between these two men. He heard to the
Seeker's anxious questions but did not listen, concentrating on the
ghoulite
Lord Aja was feeding, at once envying and pitying him.	
Turnbull's voice rose in pitch.  Diefenbaker's ears perked up and with
a  happy yip he headed for the door, pushing it open before anyone could
think  to stop him.  Silence, then clearly, 
 
"Diefenbaker!  Where is Ray?" 
 
"No!" Zuko shouted, trying to intervene even though they were all under
orders not to harm the Seeker. "No!" 
 
"Back off, Zuko!" Vecchio shouted as the door slammed open. 
 
"NO!" screamed Turnbull, horrorfied by the gorey scene before him.  "NO!
Stop!  You can't!" 
 
Zuko seized him, and despite the Mountie's greater height and weight,
held  him with ease. Vecchio  lunged, only to be restrained by Marco
as a few other	Giovanni rushed over, alerted by the shouting. 
 
"Stop!	Ray, don't drink!  Don't!" 
 
Aja smiled.  So young.	All of them.  He pulled the sleeve of his brocade
robe back down over his wrist.	Already the wound was almost healed.
Gently, the vampire smoothed the strangely-colored hair of the
unfortunate,
chosen ghoulite?  Yes, that was the word they used today - before 
transferring
his head from his lap to a pillow.  He was overwhelmed for now,  lost
in the waking dreams such a transfer would bring.	Then Aja rose, 
dignified
and assured as he faced the newcomers. 
 
"Son of Rachel.  Be welcome." 
 
Turnbull was stricken dumb with shock that a scene so hideous could be
treated so casually. 
 
"What have you done to him, Lord?" screamed the Slayer, fighting Zuko's
grip. 
 
"I am trying to save his life.	It is what you asked, Seeker." 
 
"His LIFE!  I wanted to keep him alive!" 
 
"And so you shall, brave son of Rachel." 
 
Vecchio found his voice, unable to tear his eyes away from the	
Mongolian-looking fossile not twelve feet away.  "Who the fuck are you?"

Lord Aja bowed his head.  "You would best know me as Caine." 

***

Ray could heard them arguing above him. He shuddered in pain, feeling
Aja's blood go to work. It was ten times worse than Lilith's. He could
see how the man had become a vampire. Being cast out of his home, taken
in by Lilith. Ten endless days of agony as Lilith drained him over and
over again. Finally feeding him enough to cause the change. 

He could feel millenia of pain and suffering. The death of the first
Dillivium, Caine's first 13 children. And he screamed for each death.

***

Fraser pried open his eyes, staring at the ceiling of  Ray's bedroom.
Blood. His blood stained the bedsheets. It took him a minute to realise
he was looking down at them. Another to realise why. 

He was hanging, by his feet from the ceiling. Roped nailed to the boards
that made up the ceiling. He struggled, painfully. "No...Ray?" 

Calhoun smirked. "Two hours. Think he'll show?"

***

"Let them go." 
 
"My Lord -" 
 
"They cannot harm me. Let them go.  Let them help their friend."  

Zuko and Marco released their captives.  Turnbull rushed over to Ray
Kowalski as Vecchio automatically assumed a cover position, casting a
hearty glare at Zuko as he shifted to cover the Slayer. 
 
"Ray," breathed Turnbull, turning the American towards him gently.  "Ray,
can you hear me?"  He looked to Caine with frightened eyes.  "Will he
go  over? Did you make him a vampire?" 
 
Caine shook his head. "Only if he so chooses, Son of Rachel." 
 
"What did you do to him?" Vecchio growled at Zuko. 
 
It was a stand-off between the one-time friends.  Zuko smirked. 
"Kidnapped
him, beat the shit out of him, forced him to drink some Caanite blood,
then kept him unconscious for a day before dumping him in an alley. 
What did you do to him?"  
"You son of a bitch!  You knew he was sick!" 
 
"So did you," snapped Zuko. 
 
Dief's return prevented the situation from escalating.	He ran over to
Ray  Vecchio, shedding his wolf form as he moved, then looked up at Zuko
as he  took Ray by the hand and drew him towards the writhing figure
on the cot.  
Vecchio crouched beside Turnbull.  "What's up?" 
 
"He's in pain.	He-" 
 
Vecchio's cell phone rang.  With a muffled curse he twisted out of Dief's
grip and dug it out of his pocket.  "Vecchio." 
 
"Ray, it's me." 
 
"Stella-" 
 
"I just received a very disturbed phone call from Constable Fraser and
another man.  He said something about Ray's sire and an Elder Kowalski.
Is  he talking about Ray's father?" 

"Elder..." Vecchio wrinkled his nose. Why would Benny call Ray Elder....oh
no. "Stella, what'd he sound like." 

"He was in pain. Ray, what's going on?"

"You better get down here."

"Ray?"

"Just come."

***

He felt the blade of Calhoun's knife against his arm and squirmed when
it pierced flesh. "No..." Fraser whimpered, in massive pain. "God..."

"God won't help you now. He didn't help me..."

"Please. Let me go. I'll get you help." Fraser was begging. He was in
too much pain not to. He hated it. "Please. You don't want to do this,
you don't have to..." 

"Sorry. I kinda like it" He licked at the blood running down Fraser's
arms and onto the sheeets. "Ellery's. And a bit of Kowalski's. He's
running"

"He'll come for you."

"I doubt it."

"He killed Lilith."

"No he didn't."

/Not yet/

***

"Stella can't find out what I am," stated Turnbull, glancing back at
Vecchio. 
 
"Done," agreed Warfield. 
 
"I also would advise she not meet /you,/ my lord." 
 
Caine cocked his head. "Why is that, Son of Rachel?" 
 
"She's a vengance demon," Turnbull replied. 
 
"Ah," said the ancient vampire.  "I have met such creatures.  They are
rarely pleasant." 
 
"She's also Detective Kowalski's ex-wife." 
 
"And my girlfriend," added Vecchio wryly, thinking how like a soap opera
their lives had become. 
 
"Ah," repeated Caine, this time with sympathy. 
 
*** 
 
A voice, silently calling. 
 
Ray could hear it in his mind, though he could not have said what language
it spoke.  Nonetheless, he understod.  Another joined it, then another.
More.  A weird harmony with too many parts, a strange composition  of
sound that was almost a song.  It was a glad sound and it gave him a
warmth he had not felt outside of being with Fraser.	It was...love? 

Of a kind, at least. 
 
Voices, not quite in unison, spoke from out of the darkness in his mind.
"You honor us with your grief, brother." 
 
"Who are you?" he wondered, not sure if he spoke aloud or not, unable
to  feel his body. 
 
"We are the children of Caine, thirteen in number, all slain by the dark
queen.	Few have mourned us as you have." 
 
"I...I felt it." 
 
"You felt the anguish our father felt at our slaughter.  She feared our
might and envied our father's love." 
 
"He...doen't mean to hurt me, does he?" 
 
"You are his son, our brother, and he loves you as he loved us.  He fears
for what you must do." 
 
"Wha't that?" Ray called. 
 
"You must destroy the mother." 

"How?"
 
"With the weapons you were born with and that she herself has provided.
You stand between the worlds, brother, and you have a soul.  Never
surrender
it." 

"What weapon was I born with?"

"Your inner eye. You must nurture it. Use it for far more than you have
used it for..." 

"What're you saying? I can do more than see flashy things?"

"Yes."

He suddenly felt twitchy. "No. Not again...Don't..."

"You must..."

: "No..."  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the onrushing
visions.
Burning pain ignited in his wrists and his chest ached as his arms were
lashed to cold metal.  When he lifted his head he knew he was seeing
through Fraser's eyes when Calhoun came into focus.  Crucified.  Calhoun
had crucified Fraser...or would he?  When was this moment of pain?  Maybe
this was /now/? 

"God...no..."

***

Stella followed Ray in the other room. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure exactly," He crossed his arms, not sure how much to tell
her. "There's a vampire after Stanley. I guess he was attacked once,
got some powerful blood." 

She nodded, seeming to understand. 

***

Caine watched as Ray convulsed on the bunk. Turnbull was trying to staunch
the flow of blood from his nose with a towel. "Well?" 

"He's seeing something. It must be pretty bad..We need to get to the
zoo.." 

"I don't suggest it, Constable. It could be a trap."

"Fras...Ben...hurt...go..."

"He's hurt?"

"I...go..."

"You're in no condition..."

"I /have/ to go...Cal...hn has him," Kowalski managed, ignoring Turnbull's
efforts.  "Hurt him.  Bleeding...bleeding.  Gotta-" 

"You're in no condit-" Vecchio said, entering the room with Stella. 

He ignored Vecchio's protest as he turned to Caine.  "They s-said I hava
soul...to fight for it."  He swallowed.  "F-Fraser is my soul." 
 
The occupants of the room were struck dumb. 
 
Caine smiled warmly at Ray, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek and
jaw in	an affectionate gesture.  "Now," said the odd accent, "now you
begin to understand, my son.  You see what the mother has lost." 
 
Ray nodded mutely, then whispered, "I gotta go." 
 
"Yes," agreed Caine. 
 
"Detective Kowalski," stammered Turnbull in a good imitation of himself,
"do  you think it wise?  Should you call your leftenant for back up?"

"You do...whatever ya want.  I gotta...save Frase." 
 
Zuko pulled Vecchio aside.  "the zoo will be crawling with Sabbat.  You
can't just flood the place with cops, it'll be a slaughter!"  He glanced
at  Diefenbaker, wedged between Ray and Caine.	"The werewolf stays here."

"What?" 
 
"Werewolf blood is addictive to our kind.  Look at the Sabbat as the
equivilant of the drug-addicted pieces of lowlife scum you have to deal
with  on the streets.  They'd shred him in a minute.	Maybe less." 
 
"What about Stan?" 
 
"If he can figure out what he's about between here and the zoo, he's
got a  chance.	Better get moving." 
 
With a quick nod, Turnbull bent and scooped Ray Kowalski into his arms.
He was surprisingly light.  Ray moaned, his words still slurred.  
"Take care of...my clan." 
 
Warfield answered.  "They will be safe." 
 
 ***

Calhoun tightened the ropes on Fraser's wrists. The constable could hear
the sound of the animals chattering. It was oddly comforting. "Don't
do this." 

"Sorry." Calhoun grinned, carressing Fraser's face, roughly. "Really."

"He'll kill you. I won't be able to stop him."

"He'll die. Sabbat blood is poison to a Caanite or a Bahari."

"A Bahari?"

"Childer of Lilith." Calhoun moved to Fraser's ankles. 

"It's what you want." Fraser tugged, hard, at the bonds holdng him up.
He groaned in pain. "Isn't it?" He tugged again. No slack. the ropes
burned the cuts on him. He rested his head on the cage. 

Calhoun touched the side of Fraser's face, tossing the stetson away.
"What?" 

"You want him to feed off one of yours. So he'll die. So he'll rise..."

"Yeah?"

"His blood...Ellery and Lilith's blood will be more potent when he's
dead..." Fear and realisation struck Fraser mute. 

"You catch on quick, Constable."

***

Ray rested his head on Vecchio's shoulder as they moved towards the zoo.
His eyes were closed tight, as if he were asleep. The purple hair clashed
with the green suit. Vecchio sighed, glancing at Stella. "You didn't
have to come." 

"How often do you get to see your ex get the crap beaten out of him by
vampires?" 

He gave her a look. "We're talking Stan here. Like, every day..." He
shook his head. "You've got a real nice attitude towards him, ya know.
Unhealthy." 

"I'm a vengence demon. I'm supposed to." They reacted at Ray's sigh.

Ray could /feel/ Fraser as they got closer to the zoo. He was in pain,
burning agony. He whimpered, trying to stop it in his as well as Fraser.
He failed. 

But where there was anguish in his soul, pain for his lover, there rose
an  equal measure of anger.  Who was this /Sabbat/ to touch his Mountie?
Who  was Calhoun to threaten him in his own home? 
 
"Put me down," ordered Ray. 
 
Turnbull stopped, startled by the tone of voice. 
 
"Put me down," repeated Ray.  "Now." 
 
Turnbull set him on his feet.  The anger was growing. 
 
/He must fight for his soul./ 
 
...fraser is my soul.... 
 
Calhoun was goin' down. 
 
"Stay here," he ordered.  He saw Irene behind Vecchio and Stella and
added,	 "You, too." 
 
/That's the spirit, Yank.  Have you figured it out a bit?/ 
 
Hands clasped behind his back, the old Mountie walked towards him.  

"I'm gettin' there, Fraser," muttered Kowalski. 
 
/Did you know your hair is purple?/

"Gee. Really, no. I hadn't noticed."

/No need for sarcasm/

"Later, Canada." He kicked open the gate to the zoo, sniffing the air
for traces of his lover. West. He could sense the Sabbat watching him
and narrowed his eyes. They'd probabally been given orders not to touch
him, Calhoun probabally wanted him to himself. Bastard. 

He moved through the darkened maze of paths and animal pens.  Silent.
Too  silent.  The animals were afraid. 

He could see them now. Calhoun standing beside a barely conscious Fraser.
His rage rose to a fever pitch. Fraser was tied, crucifix like to the
cage, his head hanging down. "Calhoun..." Was that his voice that sounded
so harsh? 

Fraser stirred, fighting off the coldness that was slowly working its
way  like a cancer through his limbs.  He couldn't feel his hands. 
Everything
hurt and he wanted so desperately to sleep and wake up to what life had
been before today. 

That voice...Ray? 

"Kowalski." Calhoun grinned. "How's my Get? Taking care of them?" 

"What've you done to him?"

"Nothing much. Yet." Calhoun tilted his head, "Ellery's blood's almost
as good outta him..." 

He grinned, growling as Ray came in for an attack.

"Ray! No!" Fraser squeezed his eyes shut, shaking had.

***  

Stella shook her head, starting into the building. "Hey! What're you
doing, he said to wait." Vecchio grabbed her by the arm. 

"Since when do you listen to him?"

"Since he started making sense." 

"Fighting the Sabbat alone makes sense to you?!"

Turnbull, whose eyes had never left the open gate, spoke without looking.
"We wait." 
 
Stella glared, her standard response.  "Who the hell do you think you-"

She broke off when Turnbull sent her a look so stern that she flinched.
Ray  Vecchio had the immense pleasure of seeing the Stella square off
against a  will greater than hers and lose. 
 
"We wait." A long pause. "How long?"
 
*** 

Fraser could hear the sounds of what sounded like two wild animals trying
to eat eachother alive. He bit back a sob, trying not to scream. He could
no longer feel his hands.  His legs burned with supporting his weight
so  akwardly.  They say you die by asphyxiation when crucified and he
could  believe it. Breathing was difficult, his vision blurry. 

 "Ray...stop!" He sounded desperate. Here and now, he didn't know what
would  happen to him if Ray died.  He did know that he could not live
long without the American beside him.  He gazed at the shadowy fighters
before him and wished that yesterday had never hapened. 

/Yank, stop. He'll kill you./

"I think I can handle it, Canada..." He was over confident. Rightfully
so. With Caine's legacy flowing in his veins, he was more powerful than
Calhoun could ever hope to be.	Anger gave him strength.  Who was this
Sabbat to harm his Mountie?  Who was Calhoun to  threaten him? 

He got Calhoun pinned under him and bit down, hard. 

Foul tasting blood filled his mouth and he gulped against it. It tasted
horrible. He pulled back, shaking uncontrollably. Spitting. Numbness
took his mouth, his throat.  Slowed him.  He stumbled to his feet,  trying
to remain upright in case Calhoun assaulted him again, but the vampire
just lay on the ground laughing in twisted delight.  Ray gasped for air,
spitting at the taste, the effect on his body.	His movements were slow,
labored, like swimming through syrup. He tried to concentrate, push past
the coldness that gripped him. 

"Ray...?" He watched Ray stumble backwards, heart pounding hard. "Ray,
your gun. Use it..." 
 
Gun?  Did he have it still?  Yes.  Where were his glasses? 
 
/Fight, Yank. You're not using all your weapons./ 
 
"How do you like it, Prince Kowalski?" mocked Calhoun, his high-pitched
laughter echoing in the dark. 
 
Weapons.  What did he have?  His gun? 
 
"You didn't know I could do that, did you?  Never thought someone weaker
could kill you.  You think like a human." 
 
/He's got a point, Yank.  Fight him on his level, not yours./ 
 
What did he have?  The dead.  Flashes.	Animals.  Humanity.  His soul.
Fraser... 
 
The dead... 
 
"Louis," he whispered, "Give me some ammo on this bastard!" 
 
Instantly his mind was filled with the image of a snowbound wilderness.
The Yukon Territories of the nineteenth century. A lone Mountie heading
home, his thoughts turned to his wife and newborn child, taking in what
he  thought was a fur poacher. 
 
"No," whispered Calhoun, sensing the shift in the battle.  His laughter
stopped as Ray attacked from a new angle. 
 
Screams.  Blood on the pristine snow and a new vampire was born amidst
ice  and darkness. 
 
Ray concentrated, focusing the image. It was almost a flash. Around them,
the animals were becoming restless.  The Sabbat shifted uncomfortably
from  where they watched and waited. 
 
A woman.  Beautiful, graceful, black hair piled on her head and soft
gray  eyes. 
 
"Noooooo!" 
 
An infant daughter in her arms, anxious for him to come home. 
 
His first victims. 
 
Ray threw everything he had into the flash.  The animals rose up in 
agitated confusion.  He could taste his own blood.  It didn't mask the
poison. 
 
Somehow, Calhoun rushed him, slamming him against the cage close to where
Fraser was tied.  
"Kill you!" hissed Calhoun.  "I'll kill you!" 
 
Ray growled through clenched teeth, "Like you killed them?" 
 
*** 
 
Turnbull was breathing heavily, trying to restrain himself.  He could
hear  the animals in the zoo stirring.	A wolf howled, long and lonely
and  eerily.  Beside him, he knew Ray had his gun drawn and Stella was
glaring  at him as was her habit with everyone. 
 
"Well?" she demanded. 
 
Turnbull nodded, digging into his pockets.  "Long enough." 

Stella looked at him, nodding thanks as he slipped a stake into her hand.
"I don't need this. I can..." 

"I know. For Ray."

Stella gasped, then nodded sadly.

Vecchio looked at him sharply as they moved slowly through the zoo. "You
think we may have to put him down?" 

"If the constable's dead...sabbat blood is poison to ghoulites. If he
drinks, and he dies he'll become like them. Addicted, in pain..." 

Stella finished on a breath. "Insane."

He nodded. "And I don't think Detective Vecchio or I are prepared to
do it..." 

"Turnbull?" 
 
"Yes?" 
 
Ray pointed at the strangely shaped weapon the constable hefted.  "What
the hell is /that?/"  
He looked at the toy.  "My water gun." 
 
"Water gun.  You're going to hold off droves of undead with a Buck Rogers
hand-me-down?" 
 
"It's full of holy water.  It should be quite effective against the
Sabbat,
Detective."
 
They were interrupted by screams of agony Of fear. The animals. 

"Oh God. What's happening?" Vecchio whispered. 
 
Stella wrinkled her nose in distaste.  "Sabbat.  They smell like an 
abbatior.  Revolting." 
 
Turnbull gestured for silence, pointing. 
 
Part of the wolf pen. a caged observation area, was just on the other
side  of a landscaped island in the pathway. A tall figure, distinct
in tunic and jodphers, hung from the bars by his extended arms.  
"Fucking bastard crucified him!" breathed Vecchio.  He made to surge
forward when Turnbull seized his arm, halting the advance.  
"Wait!" 
 
The path was blocked by Sabbat. 

***

A faint moan escaped Fraser's lips.  Calhoun had positioned his victim
to  inflict a maximum of pain.	The eight or so wolves moved about the
cage,  drawn to Ray even as they avoided the Mountie. Perhaps they smelled
Diefenbaker upon him. 
 
Suddenly Calhoun bodily slammed Ray against the cage with a curse of
fury.	Ray's reaction was instantanious: he head-butted the vampire
squarely in the  face as more images of the fallen Mountie were revealed.

"Who was next?	Richardson, right?  Yer own partner.  Then yer sergeant,
Lafayette.  Then ya couldn't hide it anymore, huh?" 
 
Calhoun was momentarily stunned and Ray was fighting to loosen the bonds
on Fraser's wrist as he spoke.	An anguished cry rang out as his arm
was freed and fell to his side.  
"Behind-" 
 
Instinct took over.  Ray whirled, swinging a backfist into the lunging
Calhoun with so much force he assumed he broke his hand and just kept
on  fighting.  Calhoun staggered. 
 
Fraser clawed at the ropes holding his other arm.  It was almost
impossible
with his legs immobilized like this.  If he could get down he could help
Ray.  Help to stop Calhoun... 
 
He had never been so glad Ray had Victoria's blood in him until now.

Ray shoved Calhoun back, drawing his gun aiming it at the vampire.  His
blurred vision caught several dark forms moving through the bushes. 
The  Sabbat were emerging from their hiding places. 
 
Behind Fraser, the wolves were growling and bristling at the vampires,
drawing towards Ray as if to protect him. 
 
In that instant, Calhoun spat a mouthful of blood into Ray's face.  The
gorey fluid got into his eyes, his mouth, and he let out a short cry.
Ray  gagged as much at the taste as at the idea. Then the undead elder
slammed  into him, smashing him onto the cement walkway.  For one hideous
second	everything went black, then Ray twisted.  

He aimed as best he could and  fired. Calhoun just grunted as the silver
bullet nicked his thigh.  He was so close...He slapped the gun from Ray's
grip and pounced.  To Ray he stank of old blood and death and filth.
The Chicago detective struggled, but the poisen spewed at him was taking
effect and he was slowing.  Calhoun had him pinned, seized his hair and
yanked his head back to expose his throat.  
"Ray!" screamed Fraser. 
 
//So sorry.  Love you...// 
 
"Ray!" 
 
He tried to rise, to recall the flash.	Instead he felt hot breath on
his  neck.  A faint sting as the Sabbat's teeth teased the tender flesh.

"You reek of Caine," hissed Calhoun and bit down hard, shoving Ray's
head back so hard it hit the sidewalk.	
Ray Kowalski screamed, fighting despite the burning pain. He shrieked
in pain, clawing at Calhoun's shoulders and back.  
"Ray!" 
 
A shot rang out.  Ray tensed, expecting Calhoun to fall, but the Sabbat
only  hesitated.  There was a creak of an iron gate opening, angry growls,
and  suddenly the wolves attacked Calhoun. 
 
An inhuman wail rose into the night as eight adult wolves went for the
vampire.  Ray was thrown aside, landing in a heap, as the pack tried
their  best to rend Calhoun.  The Sabbat Elder went berzerk, bleeding
profusely  from a dozen or more wounds as the wolves harried and attacked
him.  
Fraser staggered to Ray's side and fell next to him, still clutching
the  American's gun.  Ray was a filthy, bloody mess of broken flesh and
gore.  
"Ray!  Ray, did you drink from him?" begged Fraser, feeling for a pulse
at  Ray's bleeding neck.  "Answer me!  Ray!" 
 
Slipping.  He was slipping.  But he was safe now.  Fraser, his soul,
was  free. 

"Ray. Ray, please. Open your eyes. Talk to me..."

/Watch out, Yank.../

What....oh...God. 

His whole body trembled as he felt the vision take him and the sabbat
blood work it's poison on him. His mouth opened and closed several times
in a silent scream. He groaned. Pain. Burning. Screaming. 

Lilith.

She was here. Now. Hunting Caine. Hunting him.	For entirely different
reasons.  And she would get him.  Who was Ray Kowalski to stand against
a creature older than Eve herself?  His weapons seemed puny and laughable
by comparison to Lilith. 

He felt Fraser's hands on his face, forcing his mouth open.  He heard
the Mountie sniff deep, then felt him stiffen.	Those dark blue eyes
flew wide with horror. 

Ray had consumed Calhoun's blood.

"Oh God. Ray, no..." Fraser shook, his arms and legs aching from the
hours spent on the wall of the cage. Mindful of his lover's injuries,
he lifted  Ray partially on his lap, resting the detective's shoulders
and head on his  lap.  He could hear footsteps around him and looked
up.  For a moment, he  was nose-to-nose with a curious timber wolf. Then
the wolf glided back to  the cage as people emerged.  Vecchio, Turnbull,
and...Stella Kowalski?	 They were disheveled and breathless, but seemed
unharmed. 

"Love you..." Ray's voice was hoarse. He slowly gripped Fraser's hand
in his good one. "She's here..." He gasped in pain, clutching Fraser's
hand tightly. "Fraser, she's here.." 

"Lilith..." Turnbull muttered. 

Ray Vecchio cast a look around.  "Where the hell's Calhoun?" 
 
"Gone," replied the Seeker.  "For now." 
 
Ray struggled to speak again. 

"Frayze...gotta arrest ya..."

"Why, Ray?"

"...don't have....firearms..." He muttered before blacking out.

Tears slid down Fraser's pale and dirty cheeks.  Would they ever find
peace?	H didn't realize he was passing out until he heard Ray Vecchio
give a	shout and felt strong hands supporting him.  He was distressed
when Ray's  slight weight was lifted away from him.  He saw Turnbull
cradle the  unconscious ghoulite in his arms and smiled.  Ray was safe.
He looked so  sweet and child-like, even with that purple hair.  He looked
at Vecchio's  anxious face and wide green eyes and wondered what his
friend had to be  worried about.	Fine.  They would be...fine.... 
 
**** 

Ray Vecchio paced the floor nervously, gesturing broadly with both hands.
"They both should be in the hospital." 
 
"They would be far too vulnerable," Caine replied, his voice calm.  

"Fraser bled half to death and Stan got his head beat in for him again
and  now Turnbull's teling me that Calhoun's blood will kill him.  Stan,
I mean."  
"I understand, Raymond.  Do you?" 
 
"What do you mean?" 

Caine smiled, almost secretively. He picked up a coin that had been lying
on the table beside him and handed it to Vecchio. "The ouroborus. You've
seen it before?" 

An ouroborus. A snake eating it's self. An eternal loop. The coin was
ancient, and Vecchio couldn't help but wonder at the strange writing
alongside the snake.  Did history even know the name of the people that
had forged this bit of metal? 

"No."

"An eternal loop. They are of each other, if Elder Kowalski were to die,
as would the Slayer. And vice versa. They're entwined, their souls."
Caine's eyes rested on a point beyond Vecchio's shoulder. "As are some
others." 

"Irene and me..."

"In a way..."

"He would have died for Benny..." Vecchio looked up at the sound of ravens
cawing coming from the partially opened window.  He knew he had heard
that  >noise somewhere.  Was it in Canada?  The Pass?"What is that?"

"They're flocking. She's calling her children." Caine looked sharply
towards a room as a scream came from it. "All of them." 

"Stan..." Vecchio pushed past the oldest vampire, and into the room.
Fraser	was holding Ray tightly, trying to keep him still. 

Bandages engulfed Fraser's wrists and ankles and Ray was a mass of bruises
and cuts, his left hand splinted and wrapped. Diefenbaker stood by the
bed, watching curiously at the unusually odd behaviour of his two favorite
humans.  Despite his condition, Ray fought to free himself, eyes opened
in mindless response. 

"Ray, help me..." Fraser held Ray's struggling body tightly, trying to
keep him from going to Victoria. 

"No. Let him go." Caine whispered. 

"She'll kill him..." Fraser gasped, shaking. "I can't..."

"No, she won't. She needs him. He'll lead us to her. Let him go..." 

"He will perservere, Slayer," assured Caine.  "Do not turn from him."

The Mountie paled at the mere suggestion that he abandon his lover. "Ray?"

"He hears, Slayer, but he cannot comprehend yet.  He is as a migrating
bird,  compelled to move without knowing why." 
 
"Ray?" 
 
The detective writhed in his arms, a jumbled litany escaping him. 
"...f-frase...Gotta
go I-I can't stay she'll find me and kill you I gotta go  now please
don't stop me I love you so much I'm sorry I have to go I-"  
"I love you," promised Fraser, releasing him. 

Ray stood on trembling feet, stumbling towards the door of the Giovanni
council building. He felt lurchy and dizzy but knew he would not fall.
She wouldn't allow it. The Caanites kept their distance, understanding
better	than he what was happening.  He fumbled for the door and as he
struggled  with the locks, a hand reached over his shoulder and helped
him. Fraser.   The Mountie wasted no time in judging or questioning Ray's
motives, but  pushed the door open. 
 
Ray stared into those dark blue eyes and bit back a sob. He didn't want
to  go into the night.	Never wanted to leave Fraser's side.  He had
followed  this man to the ends of the earth before, he would never
hesitate
to do it  again because this man was his entire world.	The passion he
entertained for  the Stella paled by comparison to what he harbored for
this freakish,	stilted, polite, wonderful Mountie. 
 
Ray looked at him gratefully, his black eyes filling with tears.  They
stood  in the icey draft of the open door and he wished he could find
the words to  tell Fraser how he felt. Not many people would have granted
him freedom, let  alone helped him to walk into this field of near-certain
death. Words proved  unnecessay, though. 
 
Fraser reached out, carefully wrapping the scarf he wore around his neck
in  a gesture so simple and affectionate that Caine and his children,
watching  from the shadows, smiled despite the gravity of the situation.
Then Fraser  took Ray's face in both his hands, drawing the wirey American
foreward for a	kiss that sent a wave of shock and...was that envy?
through
their audience.   For a moment it seemed they became one being, so tightly
did their bodies  press. Caine, closer to Kowalski than the other
vampires,
felt Victoria's  hold waver for an instant, so powerful was the love
they felt. 
 
She must have felt it, too, from where ever she was hidden because
suddenly
Ray yanked back from Fraser's hold, panting and in pain, the poison in
him  flaring up angrily.  He stared at the Slayer for one moment of
wordless
longing, then turned and plunged into the night. 
 
Warfield turned to Zuko.  "After him." 
 
Fraser stared into the darkness that had taken Ray, barely aware of the
biting cold except for his thought that Ray was not dressed for it and
could  not withstand such bitter weather for long.  He watched Zuko and
half a	dozen other vampires trail the ghoulite, then turned numbly to
where Caine  and Vecchio and Warfield stood. 
 
"He is my son," Caine assured. "I will fight for him, Slayer." 
 
*** 
 
She sat in the large house, waiting with growing smugness. Her children
ambled around the house, waiting but with less patience.   She glanced
about  at the ones she had summoned, an odd mix of powers and ages and
races. HIS own clan was here, the three frightened get that stood together
in the corner, forbidden to leave this room and guarded by some of her
more  ruthless offspring. 
 
HE entered, Ray Kowalski, his braced wrist held awkwardly at his side.
Those  strange, black eyes met hers.  He ignored his clan, though he
could not have	failed to notice them or the frightened looks they sent
his way. She approached him slowly, staring at his wounds. Clearly he
was on the verge of  collapse, his already frail body being driven beyond
all endurance.	The  past few months had not been kind to him.	She
smiled.
Neither had  she...and now she had her dark-haired prince in whose veins
flowed her blood and whose weapons would be hers in the upcoming war.

"Are you willing to fight for the Bahari, Elder Kowalski?" 
 
Almost against his will, he nodded. "Yesss..." 
 
"Do you wish to be healed, Elder?" 
 
"Yesss..." 
 
"I will heal you, elder.  But first, you must prove yourself.  Are you
willing?" 
 
Ray hesitated.	Prove himself?	Shit.  This was gonna be ugly and he'd
lost the ability to say no.	Shit.  
His voice trembled as much as his body.  "Yessss..." 
 
Victoria pointed to the corner.  "Destroy them." 
 
His clan. 
 
Furious at the suggestion, Ray hissed, "No!" 
 
"Then you will never be healed.  They're just get.  You can make more
when  you cross over, Elder. They're expendable." 
 
"Not to me.  Leave them out of this." 
 
"They're already in.  Destroy them, or you yourself will die and then
I'll  destroy them myself." 
 
"Go to hell." 
 
She laughed, long and loud.  It hurt his ears. "I've been there. Done
that. So have you, haven't you?" He shuddered as she cupped his chin,
pulling him closer. "Don't worry, my little love, I don't care if you
destroy them or  not.  I know you never could.	I just wanted to see if
you're as stupid with loyality as I suspected. Do you wish to cross over?"

He fought to keep back the assent, but just as he had been compelled
by her to come to this place, he could not refuse her. The word bubbled
out of his throat, unwillingly. "Yesss..." A flash of an image. Calhoun
attacking him. Then Lilith. Louis? 

Couldn't she smell Caine in him? Or could she, and she just didn't care?

/Let her.../ Louis. How...? No, it didn't matter not now.

He nodded freely now, reassured. Gardino had never steered him wrong.
"Yeah...I wanna cross over..." He felt her press him against the wall,
biting him deep. Deeper than Calhoun ever had, deeper even then Ellery.
She bit into the artery, licking at the wound. Sapping up all the blood
she could. 

Ray gasped as a weird, ecstatic kind of pain filled him. His vision
dimmed,
his hearing faded. He suddenly felt her pulling away, shoving him aside.
Screaming. She was screaming. He felt her pain in him, bubbling up like
acid. The poison was working it's way out of him. He fell to his knees,
gagging, clutching at his throat in agony as he saw Lilith fall, shrieking
as the Sabbat blood burned her inside and out. 

He could barely move, the blood kept flowing from the torn artery. He
clutched at his neck, trying to staunch the flow even as he heard her
scream. 

Who would have thought Calhoun's revenge would be so complete?	She had
been done in by her own haste to control the unknown factor in her own
fate.  
The children she had gathered to her reeled in confusion, some trying
to aid	Lilith as she thrashed upon the floor, others looking for an
escape.  None  of them paid Ray any heed, too upset and frightened by
her reactions  consider any counter measure of their own.  Dimly, they
could feel the	burning, their diluted blood not nearly as potent as what
she had just	consumed... 
 
Ray heard a cry of alarm and felt someone's arms around him, pulling
him to	the relative safety of the hall. Fraser? No. Mina. He gagged,
unable to stop	expulling the Sabbat blood or stop the bleeding at his
throat. 
 
"Elder!  Ray!  Hold on!" 
 
Everything was going black.  Ray felt Jay's strong arms supporting him
and  knew Mina was talking, though he could not tell what she said to
him. 

"He's bleeding too fast. We have to...." He felt a sharp tugging at his
neck. What was she doing? Whatever it was, it hurt. A lot. But the
bleeding
seemed to be slowing. He felt something squeeze his hand. Lucia?  
Then the door was kicked in and all hell broke loose as Zuko and his
small  group swept into the building and yet another battle in the
inevitable
war  was fought and won.  Lilith's clans were caught unprepared for the
arrival  of their rivals the Giovanni and the Chicago P.D. and they paid
the price  for their arrogance.  In minutes it was over and a satisfied
Zuko called  his men and Ray Vecchio off, letting the last few vampires
escape.  They had  torn the unfortunates apart - they would not drink
from ones such as these,  proving they could learn something from the
likes of Ray Kowalski.	
Victoria still writhed on the floor, her beautiful face a mask of pain,
her  lips burned by the tainted blood upon them. Vecchio looked at her
with	hatred and disgust.  She had tried to kill his best friend and he
had sworn  she would pay.	He was just disappointed that he hadn't
been
the one to do  her in.	Then the reality of what was happening here,
what he'd taken part  in just now, swept over him and he desperately
wanted to vomit.  The room  stank of blood and death.  He could hear
voices in the hall - Mina ordering  Jay to take off his shirt as they
tried to stem the slowed bleeding from Stan's  neck. 
 
//Damn!  She got him good!  Benny's gonna have a fit!// 
 
"I'm calling an ambulance," he informed Zuko, pulling out his cell phone.

"Get him outside for them to take," snapped the mob boss.  "We're not
done  here yet." 
 
"What?" 
 
Caine swept into the room, ignoring the bodies of the fallen vampires,
barely even glancing at the dark mother of them all. He went straight
for Kowalski, peering down at him. Sadness was etched in every corner
of his face as he watched the get try to staunch the heavy but slow 
flow of blood from their elder. 

It touched him. He wasn't even their sire, yet they cared for him as
if he were.  And vice versa. He had seen the love in Kowalski's eyes
when he'd begged Warfield to watch over his clan. 

Ray was trying to talk, but couldn't. Caine knealt beside him, brushing
the strange purple hair out of his eyes. "Close your eyes." He smiled
as Ray did what he was told, glancing over as Fraser and Turnbull finally
entered the building. 

The mountie stood at the door, staring as Zuko and the other Giovanni
lifted Lilith's body onto a blanket, presumbely for destruction. Two
of  Zuko's men carried her towards the back of the building, right past
the  Slayers.  Fraser glanced down, sickened to see the face he remembered
with such remorse and longing and loathing twisted in shocked agony
and...death?
It took him a moment to realise that Ray was lying on the floor. He ran
to him, quickly. 

"Ray!" 

Ray's eyes flew open, falling on Fraser. His heart was pounding hard
and he tried to speak again. All that would come out were strange gasps.
He felt Fraser squeeze his hand, tightly. 

"Can you help him?" Fraser demanded.

"I will, Slayer.  Son of Rachel, see to these brave children." 
 
"Aye, my lord," breathed Turnbull, wishing the Seeker would rescue him
from  all the gore and dismembered bodies.  No such luck.  He raised
Mina,  fighting the urge to hold her tight and assure himself she was
well.	Instead he guided the trio of McGets towards the door. He made
it almost across the room when he started to faint and the new vampires
leaped to his aid, dragging him outside to wait for the ambulance.  
Fraser was aware of Ray Vecchio's hand upon his shoulder as he knelt
beside	Kowalski.  Ray was staring into his eyes, looking for the pacific
calm that  he always expected and needed right now. He snaked his hand
into Ray's squeezing it tightly. A brief smile touched Ray's lips.  
"This will not hurt as much this time," assured Caine, offering his wrist.
Ray opened his mouth, never tearing his eyes away from Fraser as he slowly
drank the ancient's blood.  "You must still go to your human hospital,
my  child.	You are sorely wounded, as is your love."  The ancient
eyes
twinkled.  "You have done well.  The mother will not strike again soon."

Fraser gasped, tearing his eyes away from Ray's for a moment.  "She's
not -  " 
 The old vampire shook his head.  "The blood of a Sabbat will not suffice
to  eleminate one as ancient as she.  Fear not, Slayer, Prince Warfield's
men  will make it difficult for her return.	She will need time to
regain
her  strength and purify herself." 
 
Vecchio was angry at an opportunity squandered.  "Why didn't you just-"

Caine watched Ray, knowing he needed more blood for his neck to heal.
"My son stopped her for now.  The time has not yet come for us to meet."

"Your son...why..." Fraser couldn't articulate what he wanted to know,
too intent on keeping Ray's gaze locked. The ghoulite drank from Caine's
wrist, the wound at his neck slowly healing. 

Jay returned to let them know the ambulance was here and Turnbull was
passing out on them again. 

Caine smiled, "He has more of my blood than Lilith or Ellery's. A tad
of sabbat, but that's easily rectified." He brushed hair out of Ray's
face, affectionately. "If he were to rise tonight, he would not be son
of Ellery." 

Fraser squeezed Ray's hand, tightly, too weary to consider the
implications.
All he wanted was rest and Ray. 

***

Revenge was had on all fronts, it seemed. 
 
Zuko's men buried Victoria an a vault far removed from the city of
Chicago.
Deep in the woods, in a place only a handful knew about, they sealed
her  into a tomb of cement and steel on land owned by the U.S. government
and  forgotten by all.	Once it had been a bunker for storing ammunition
during	World War II and the formidable structure was still buried deep
and cold.  
As winter gave way to spring, a band of pale and tireless people arrived
at  the bunker.  They had been tracking the scent for months.  Now that
they  arrived, they set about digging night and day until the sealed
door was  revealed and broken.	Inside, she lay waiting and weak and
the leader of the  clan smiled maniacally as he called for rope. 
 
They had done to Lilith what Calhoun had done to Fraser. She hung on
the  wall of the bunker, blood trickling down the wall. Calhoun, still
recovering from his wounds at the jaws of the wolves, knelt in front
of  her, watching with a crazed grin on his face.	Behind him, the
surviving
Sabbat tensed in anticipation of the oncoming frenzy. 
 
With sudden speed, he was at her side, biting into her neck. He could
feel  the pulse of her blood, and drained her quickly. It wasn't hard,
not while  she was like this. 
 
And he was Sabbat, so the blood was good. 
 
Her eyes flickered, painfully and he could hear a word on the tip of
her  tongue. "Autarkis..." 

And she smiled. 

TBC