A half step behind Ashely Lee, Alexander watched cultists run by, seemingly unaware of his presence. Part of him wondered if he even needed to pretend to be a prisoner. But a sense of paranoia kept his head down and hands behind his back as he played the part.

Soon they stopped at an office door. From the corner of his eye, Alexander checked around before having Ashely knock. A younger mage answered, his eyes darting between the face stealer and the wereleopard before he gave a small bow and let them in.

The door had barely closed when the mage's body hit the floor. Blood dripped off Alexander's fingers as he flicked them off and examined the space.

Simply decorated with scavenged furniture, there was just enough for two, and as Ashely told him, Trisha sat there in her human form. Lost to oblivion, she unblinkingly observed the bloody scene.

"Fantastic," Alexander sighed. The work of that bastard psychic was easily recognizable. He wasn't sure how they typically broke mind control in this fragment, but all he hoped was that it didn't involve hunting down the person who cast it.

He started with a few testing snaps, then a shake and a light slap. Unfortunately, these small disruptions provided no results. To tell the truth, with all the abuse Giselle had taken in their fight, he felt his gentle approach was pointless.

They didn't have time to try every way of waking her up. So instead, he stretched out his shoulder and wound up. A heavy thud filled the room as his fist made solid contact with her face. Her body rag-dolled, banging against the furniture and floor before coming to a rough stop.

A tense silence settled in. If that didn't work, he would try the silver dagger. If that failed, maybe a rune? Or perhaps her true name?

His theorizing was soon disrupted by a deep growl.

Trisha's body twisted and grew, only to shrink back and then expand again. It was an awkward dance between beast and human that concerned Alexander. Unsure of what to do, he watched as she nearly took on a monstrous appearance, only for her to settle into her human form.

"Neil…" She hissed out his name.

"Welcome back." Rubbing his swollen knuckles, he gave a grin. Honestly, he hadn't expected her face to be so hard.

"Was that necessary?" Slowly, Trisha peeled herself off the ground. Bloodstained her upper lip as her nose hung crooked. With a crisp snap, she straightened it with a muted groan. The bruising had already turned a healthy purple, so she had been lucky to set the bone fast enough to heal straight. Full moon healing rates were nothing to scoff at.

"Only option I had. We don't have time."

"The wind up was excessive," she said.

"So, you were conscious?" He helped her off the ground.

Closing her eyes, she stretched out her sore neck. "The entire time."

"Great, then I don't need to update you."

A sharp glint cut through her cat slit eyes as she bared her teeth. Hot rage flared in her chest at the thought of what that man had done. "He better hope he never meets me again. Because if he does, I'm going to kill him."

"Yes, yes," Alexander nodded at Ashely and he produced a set of handcuffs. "Save the revenge for later. At the moment, we need to grab Hunter and get the hell out of here."

"Hunter's here?" Trisha's snarl weakened as she looked at her cousin with a hint of apprehension.

"Of course, because Brody's a bastard. Now put these on." He pushed the cuffs to her. While he trusted his acting ability, he had no such confidence for anyone else in this fragment.

"But how did he get him? The forest was one thing, but the infirmary is in the heart of Packland."

"Look, trust me, I'll be happy to reflect on all of Richard's fuck ups after we escape."

She took the cuffs and looked at him, worried. "But how are we going to…" Her words trailed off as she stared at him. The amount of blood that covered his face was frankly disturbing. She could see the source was the intricate symbol carved into his forehead that refused to heal. "Wha- What the hell happened to you!?"

"Do you even need to ask?" He sneered. "Put the cuffs on. Our cover is prisoners in transport. Don't react to anyone in the halls and just keep behind him. Once we're out of the range of the biggest group of them, we won't have to keep up the formalities."

"And he is?" She slid on the loose metal cuffs.

Alexander didn't even look at his servant. "A turncoat. Let's just say I got quite lucky. Now, if you have no more questions, I have an injured husband to save."

Though her ears perked up at the statement, Trisha said nothing as she followed.

Back as the leader, Ashely's expression never changed. A death mask of grim determination, his dull eyes stared off much like those caught under the psychic's spell. The only thing was, where the others still had a hint of life to them, Ashely had none. If one were to stare deep into his eyes, they would only find a cold, eerie emptiness that suited Alexander well.

Their guide knew the building and brought them towards the staircase closest to where Michael was. The only issue was its location. It was outside of the administrative offices they were in. Which meant between them and that staircase was a hive of cultists.

However, Alexander had the devil's luck, and their expedition ran into no trouble.

That was until the final stretch. Alexander suppressed a snarl as he smelt a certain bitch.

"Europe, we definitely have to go to Europe. The weather's supposed to be so nice, even in winter. God imagine that. A winter. It's been ages since I've seen snow… or seasons, really. Finally, be able to escape this humid hellscape." Clung to the arm of a man, Charlotte casually daydreamed. "Maybe even buy a house out there in Europe."

"Not maybe. We will. We'll buy several houses, wherever you want," the man cooed, his words a bit sluggish and slurred. "I heard London is nice. That's where they did all those wizard movies. John's been out there for business. Says they're real friendly to American Witches. Don't ask a lot of questions, you know."

"Ah, I wonder if they still got those sets? If I got some photos in front of them, the girls on LifeTies will be reeling," she cackled and gazed warmly up at her partner. Though her eyes wandered as she noticed Ashely. "Hold up," she straightened. "Hey, stop."

The puppet didn't respond, continuing to move forward. This did not sit well with the woman. However, she cared little about him as her eyes locked onto Alexander. Displeasure apparent on her face as she grabbed the wereleopard by the arm.

"Hold up, Ashley, I wanna talk with this fucker," she attempted to dig her nails into his flesh, but it was hardly a scratch compared to everything else he had to deal with this evening.

Alexander wasn't in the mood to waste time on idiots. A hint of life came back to Ashely, and he glowered at her. "Fuck off, I'm busy."

Taken aback by the harsh response, her man moved forward with a slight air of threat. But Charlotte ignored them, her focus entirely on Alexander. "Look here, you piece of shit, where's my damn necklace?"

"The curse breakers took it," Alexander said.

"Don't you bullshit me. I know that no curse breaker took it. It wasn't even in that doctor's office," she tried to bring herself to some height. "Where did you fuckers put it!?" This time she grabbed his chin, and under a false assumption of his docility, she pulled him close. At that moment, he struck.

Behind him, Trisha shed her cuff to lunge at Charlotte's partner.

But before Alexander could pierce the witch's chest, he was sent flying back. Tossed into a wall, his head swum as his vision slowly dragged back into focus to see the blank face of Giselle and the end of her gun.

"Come on," he hissed, rolling away as a bullet buried into where he had been.

To the side, Trisha ripped out the man's throat. After all, a mage with no breath was no problem. Blood ran everywhere as he grabbed at the gapping wound in a feeble attempt to stop the flood. With a rattling moan, he dropped.

"Shaun!" Charlotte cried, terrified. She lunged and grabbed the dying figure of her husband. But there was nothing she could do as he bled out in her lap. Desperately she grabbed at his body to do something, but Trisha was efficient in her work.

"Kill them! Kill them now!" She commanded as she gripped her necklace and reached for her walkie talkie.

Everything happened in an instant. Giselle took aim in the small space as Trisha crouched toward the gun-wielding summoner. Alexander had barely gotten his footing and he was still mere inches from the gun. Ashely stood there dumbly caught between commands. A small noise left Alexander as the gun swung back into his face, and he prepared for the shot.

Suddenly a thick smoke filled the hallway. Its origins unknown, it provided the cousins with much-needed cover as Alexander dropped and Trisha leapt at Giselle.

Frantic, Charlotte groped into the smoke, only to be blindsided by a tackle. Her walkie talkie cluttered away.

Like she was on auto-drive, Giselle's head jerked towards Charlotte, and she abandoned her attempt to kill the man. But even as an unheard force commanded her, she could only blindly shoot into the smoke.

Unseen, Shelly pinned Charlotte beneath her and struck her in the face. Each punch made a wet crunch as she laid into her. The only problem was the hits that had taken out many mages before barely affected Charlotte. Through bloody teeth, the witch hissed at her and got a spell off.

Sent flying, Shelly crashed into the wall as her impromptu smoke bomb vanished.

Struggling on the ground, Trisha wrestled against Giselle. While they were the same size, somehow, the wereleopard found the woman to be even sturdier than her as she barely kept her gun arm pinned down. Charlotte sat up, blood running down her face as she glared at Shelly. Who, at that moment, just wanted the world to stop spinning.

The witch gutturally commanded Giselle to kill her attacker, but Alexander foiled this as he helped Trisha restrain her. Pissed off, Charlotte let out a shriek and pulled something from her neck. It crackled with energy as she tossed it at Shelly.

The stone split, magic pouring into a fireball. With a wince, Shelly readied herself, only for it never to make contact. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It made contact… only with the wrong target.

As fast as his body allowed, Michael consumed the magic. It's gentle run over him before disappearing into the ether. Re-energized by her rescue, Shelly lunged at the witchy bitch. Second time's the charm, after all.

"Grab the necklace!" Michael commanded. While not entirely sure, he had theorized that the source of Giselle's odd state was tied to the shared necklaces.

This was easy for Shelly, who ripped it off the witch and choked her in the process. But for the sparring wereleopards, they were just barely keeping it together as they got tossed off. Scattered across the floor, they quickly jumped back as Trisha grabbed Giselle's shins, and Alexander aimed for her neck.

With both necklaces popped off, the stones flew towards Michael. Once they touched his palm, they dissipated, crumbling into dust.

Charlotte let out a shout and bucked off Shelly. Scrambling to her feet, she jumped at Giselle, but the hunter stopped moving.

"Giselle, kill them. Kill them for me." She said the words like a chant, desperately clinging to each repetition. "Kill the-" A loud crack cut her off as Shelly pistol-whipped her.

"Shut up."

This was the finishing blow as the witch finally collapsed.

An odd calm overtook them as everyone caught their breath. Since Giselle didn't move, the cousins let go of her. There was no change. It was as if they had pulled the batteries out of a massive murder robot.

Already a practiced hand at this, Alexander didn't hesitate to wind up and clock her one across the face. While she was far less theatrical when compared to Trisha, there was a clear return to life. A menagerie of emotion flooded across her face as if they were now just loading in. Finally, they concluded with an enraged snarl as she grabbed her jaw and let out a long hard 'fuck’.

"It worked?" Trisha asked.

Once her groan ended, Giselle's eyes landed on Charlotte and caught alight. A long-delayed rage overtook her as she rushed over and lifted the unconscious woman up. Resolute, Giselle started to beat the shit out of her. Each punch accented with a rather loud 'fuck you.'

"She's back," Michael sighed, leaning against the wall. Drained, his body just wanted to stop. Carefully, he felt at his abdomen before letting out a small hiss. The blood from his bandages had begun to stain his gown, obscuring the tears in the fabric. Still, he willed his body to stay up only for him to falter. Alexander rushed forward, catching him before he could fall.

In that intimate touch, they assessed each other. Both were looking for the same thing, anything wrong. Well, what they found was that everything was wrong, but what could they do about it? There were no words to say as a rare panic set in. It was a feeling they had long forgotten. Only in their rushed movements did they find solace as they kissed. There was a tangible fear that the moment they parted; they would be separated forever. In this frenzy, they forgot their dangerous situation and fell into each other.

However, they couldn't remain as they eventually parted. In between breaths, Alexander let out a low 'baby' that brushed against Michael's lips.

"I know, we need to go," Michael replied, his tone soft.

"It's the Aspect of Bloodlust."

The comfort Michael had won evaporated. His crutch clattered against the ground as he did his best to wrap his arm around Alexander's neck. With a horrified gaze, he searched his partner's eyes as if in the hope that this was a farce. But there was no hint of gest in Alexander’s expression. With a slight tremble, Michael cleared his throat. "Le- let's get to the Banyan. We can do something from there."

"Michael…" Alexander whispered, only for Michael to shut him down with a shake of his head.

"We can do something there. And beyond that, we need to protect it. We must protect it," the intensity in Michael's words caught Alexander off guard. But just as he rose, Michael soon fell again, his body too tired. That panic hadn't dissipated, only making his physical condition worse as he felt every little injury burn within him. Still, with his hand, he brushed against his partner's bleeding forehead. The flow had stopped, but it looked awful.

"I'll be fine," Alexander said.

"You two gonna stand around and whisper all day? Last I checked, we were breaking out," Giselle growled.

"Fuck off, I need this," Alexander pulled his partner up into his arms.

"Fuck you, I've had to endure this bullshit for over a fucking week. I'm not hanging around this shitty school or this shitty town any longer."

With that, the expanded group quickly reorganized. During it, Shelly stared at Ashely, very confident that this was the person who had knocked her out earlier. Unwilling to deal with any further delays, Alexander threw out his bullshit explanation and then left his pawn behind to run interference.

The agreed-upon plan was to steal a car, specifically Charlotte's, since they had her keys, go pick up Mama Clarke, and get the hell out of there. A solid plan, really. At least it was until they stepped outside.

Once dark and beautiful, the night now was pure red without a single cloud to obscure the absolute hell above. It was endless, this wrong that turned the sky into an ever-stretching void with only a violent blood moon to fill the space.

A collective gasp left the group, and they forced themselves to look away, only to notice the ground was not free from this perversion. The sun-beaten asphalt stabbed upwards like a mountain range. If they were anywhere else, they might have thought that an earthquake had torn the earth asunder. In the cracks, a visceral red flowed like hot lava.

For all the shock, it wasn't these physical changes that affected the husbands. For them, it was the thick, oppressive power that radiated from the cracked earth. It was what they had struggled against all evening. Now that they were outside, it clung onto them, draped itself over them. Unnoticed, Michael's shadow flickered and pulled away, only to snap back in place.

Held in Alexander's arms, Michael looked to him in a barely disguised fear. They didn't need to say it. They both knew what was happening. The world… it was collapsing.