The Home of Hawk's "15" Series

Title: Nina
Author: Hawkedup

Details: This begins sometime soon after the Angel: After the Fall story arc ends. Takes place directly after Chapter One.

Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Length: ~ 1,000 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed in Buffy the Vampire Slayer created by Joss Whedon, and Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Characters: Nina, Angel, Wolfram & Hart, TeleCorp, Misc.

Chapter Two

I can’t believe I let him talk me into this, Nina thought as she crawled through TeleCorp’s basement. TeleCorp was a major entertainment distribution company based in Los Angeles. Five years ago, it was run out of a single car garage. Paul McHale and Janet Weeks used a gaming console as an internet connection. They also had a nice collection of bongs. Two years ago TeleCorp reported seven billion dollars worth of profit. It was a marvel—everybody knew about the Cinderella story that was TeleCorp. As it turned out, however, that while everyone knew the story, Angel was the only one that new the rest of the story.

“Four years ago,” Angel had said back at Nina’s apartment, “TeleCorp signed a big contract with Wolfram & Hart. They were a huge money maker for the firm. I met the two presidents of the company (both of whom, apparently, have full control over operations). Paul McHale and Janet Weeks couldn’t roll a doobie if they hired a private contractor.”

Nina stared at him. Her jaw almost hit the floor.

“A doobie?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “You know, it’s a type of cigarette—”

“I know what a doobie is, Angel!” Nina laughed. “I’m laughing because I thought that word had been lost sometime during the 1970s.” She abruptly stopped laughing. The air escaping from her lungs was cut off so abruptly that it almost sounded like she hiccupped. “Ew… Do you have any idea how creepy it is that you just said a word my dad would have used?” Her eyes scanned Angel up and down, mouth twisting as if tasting something bad, and she shivered in disgust.

“I’m not—that…” Angel bit off every word. “I was only twenty-six when I was—”

“If you say ‘born to darkness,’” Nina said, “I’m going to claw your eyes out.”

Nina looked at him gravely but finally let the smile she’d been holding back slip to her mouth.    

“Why do you want these guys, Angel?” She asked. “Seriously. Wolfram & Hart are gone. We don’t know where or how, but… But don’t you think it would be better if you… I don’t know, took a break from chasing them down? You’ve earned a vacation.”

“I can’t do that, Nina. They are out there somewhere. Just because they pulled out of this dimension doesn’t mean they aren’t terrorizing others. Or that they won’t be back.”

“What about their other branches? In Italy? Moscow?”

“Gone,” Angel said. “I put some people on it. There’s nothing.”

“Do you think it has to do with the Harmony thing?” Nina asked. Everybody knew about Harmony and the Slayers even if nobody in Los Angeles (nobody living apart from Hollywood, anyway) paid much attention to it. There was nothing surprising about vampires and slayers when you’d lived (and often times died) in Hell.

“I don’t think so,” Angel shook his head. “That doesn’t seem like something Wolfram & Hart would blink at. If anything, they would have made a good deal of profit if they’d stuck around for a while. Lorne’s old department wouldn’t let an opportunity like that pass.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Still, Angel. Whatever the case… There are other things you should worry about.”

“The other things are just distractions, Nina. Will you do it for me?”

Nina had hesitated only a moment before saying, “Okay, Angel.”

“When I went to TeleCorp,” Angel had explained, “they took me for a tour. Good public relations, Lorne said. Whatever. I noticed in the elevator that they had a sub basement, but I couldn’t get them to let us in, which leads me to believe that Wolfram & Hart specifically told them to keep me out. I want to know what’s in that basement. TeleCorp was one of the firm’s biggest clients—even I made some connections. In fact, last night Nina Ash was hired by TeleCorp as a janitor.” He reached into his black coat pocket and pulled out a clip on badge and a time card. “You start tomorrow at midnight. I can pay you. We just had a… payday.” Nina stared at the badge and card and then up into Angel’s eyes.

“So this whole asking for a favor part was a sham?” she said snidely.

“Only the asking part,” Angel confirmed.

At midnight she was at TeleCorp. The security man in the lobby looked at her badge, swiped her time card, and let her in without saying a word. Nina didn’t want to make it seem like she didn’t know what she was doing so she just walked toward the stairwell. She touched the object in her pocket when she was sure she was out of sight of any human eyes or cameras. The object was a small gem that would, according to Angel, keep her off the security monitors.

She went immediately toward the elevator, not wanting to stay any longer that absolutely necessary. It was impossible to ride the elevator down to the sub-basement (the button was locked) so she had ridden it to the basement. Now she rummaged around forgotten rooms of junk furniture and miscellaneous file cabinets looking for any sign of a stairwell or a trap door. Surely these TeleCorp freaks would need a way out of the sub-basement that wasn’t the elevator.

Her search was in vain, however, and she soon rode the elevator back to the ground floor.

“You!” said a voice when she got there. Nina turned and saw an older woman in an apron (with a mean expression on her face) coming toward the werewolf. “Are you Nina Ash?”

“I… Uh…” She thought about lying but knew it was pointless—she was still wearing the clip on name badge with her picture on it. “Y-yes. That’s me.”

“Where have you been? You were supposed to be here at midnight!”

“I was… Uh…” She took a leap of faith. Nina had seen how some things worked around the office of Wolfram & Hart when she used to go there for three nights a month. “I was being debriefed by… by the big guys?” She wished her voice hadn’t formed the statement into a question, but it might have saved her because the older woman’s eyes softened.

“Oh,” the older woman said. “That’s okay then. I have some work for you to do. Come with me.” Nina went with her, and later while she was vacuuming her twentieth office of the day, she mumbled curses at herself and at Angel for talking her into this.

~ N ~

Title: Nina
Author: Hawkedup

Details: This begins sometime soon after the Angel: After the Fall story arc ends.

Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Length: ~ 1,000 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed in Buffy the Vampire Slayer created by Joss Whedon, and Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Characters: Nina, Angel, Misc.

Chapter One

Nina Ash sat at the table of her new apartment. Alone. She spent a lot of time alone these days. It felt strange after her time in Hell. She pressed her hands, palms down and thumbs out, on either side of the cheap green plastic plate. They framed it in much the same way they used to frame landscapes or unsuspecting pedestrians or bowls of fruit on days when Nina felt particularly artsy and wanted to take a few pictures (but only after measuring the right angle like a true photographer). She didn’t feel that hunger for art anymore.

There was another hunger now.

Upon the plate rested a very thick steak. The top and bottom were browned slightly and the middle was red and bleeding still. The steak had touched the hot pan and been flipped at least once. It had been hard to force herself to cook away even that smallest bit of the flavor, but Nina knew she could not eat raw meat anymore. After L. A. went back to Heaven, she had tried to continue her post-apocalyptic diet of raw meats and warm Shasta, but, of course, she eventually started to get sick. He body needed fruits and vegetables.

And to be honest, she wasn’t all that big of a fan when it came to Shasta.

She grabbed the steak in her bare hands. Silverware was a different step on the road to normality. The juices spilled over her dainty, milky white hands. Her nose was operating at Before the Fall capacity, but her mouth still watered at the smell.

While Nina’s senses were, technically, heightened in comparison to other humans, it didn’t feel that way anymore. She sighed and remembered fondly that strange phase of being while she was in Hell—human but wolf. The tastes and smells (and the claws) had been… They had been marvelous! It had taken a while to get used to. Now, however, she felt much the same way she imagined someone might feel after chain smoking a whole carton of cigarettes. Most of the world was hidden behind dulled senses.

The steak, as if of its own accord, moved toward her mouth.

The doorbell rang.

“It’s open!” Nina snapped.

Like most dogs, she did not like to be bothered while she was eating.

“Uh…” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. “I think it might be better if you… uh… came to the door to talk.”

Nina knew that voice immediately (it was one she had dared not hope to hope to hear) and jumped out of her chair. She almost ran to the door but checked herself. Taking a few deep breaths, making sure she was calm and composed, she reached out with her right hand and turned the knob. She thought it strange that the doorknob would be so slippery but tightened her grip and flung the door open.

“Nina?” Angel inquired.

“Yes,” she cleared her throat, “Angel?”

“Is it a bad time?”

“Why ever would you think that?”

“Well…” He nodded his chin toward Nina’s left hand. When she looked down, she was surprised to see that she was still clutching the bloody steak.

“Oh! This? It’s nothing… I was… Uh…” Nina, as nonchalantly as possible, chucked the steak over her shoulder. She cringed when she heard it take down (with a crashing noise that seemed to last hours) what must have been her only reading lamp. She didn’t look back.

God! She was so stupid sometimes. Why did she always have to make a complete fool of herself whenever Angel came around? Not for the first time she felt like a silly little girl with a crush.

“If this is a bad time…” Angel said, pretending that he had not just witnessed a twenty-something blonde painter destroy one of her only pieces of furniture with a flying projectile carved from the most delicious part of a cow’s ass.

“No! I mean! I mean… No, it’s not a bad time. Do you want me—”

“I think,” Angel said quickly. He held up a hand, forestalling her. “For both our sakes, it would be better if you and I didn’t…. I mean. It’s not like I don’t want… uh… you—like that. I mean, you know I want you, or that I wanted you. Wait. That came out wrong. It’s just that, it’s not that I suddenly find you unattractive or… I mean if I found you unattractive, I wouldn’t have… You and I—when we… You know. It’s just that, there’s a lot going on with Connor and—well, I’ve been spending a lot of time hunting down psychopathic mutants and—not that you are a psychopathic mutant. That’s not what I meant. Honestly.”

“—want me to help you with research or something?” Nina finished her sentence. If he had a functional heart he would have been blushing. She tried her best not to titter.

“Oh! Right,” Angel said, relieved. “That’s actually why I came. Sort of. I don’t want to bother you, but most of my team is either avoiding me or dead again. Kate and I have been so busy rounding up all the mutants and Connor is… Connor had his minds on other things. I’m still not sure how much I can tell Gwen, and I need someone I can trust to… do me a favor.”

“Wait. Gwen’s part of the new team!?”

“No. I mean—it’s a long story. She’s sort of… So, hey… About that favor?”

There was a long pause.

“Okay fine, Angel, but I’m only letting it go for now. Sometime soon we’re going to continue our discussion about—you-know-what. What do you need me to do?”

“Thank you, Nina. It means a lot to me.”

“No problem, boss!” She give him her more ironic smile.

He glared at her.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Don’t freak out, but—”

“Said the vampire to the werewolf,” Nina piped in. Angel looked at her. “Okay, sorry, sorry. Go on. That steak isn’t going to eat itself off the floor.”

“I—” Angel hesitated. “I need you to do something important for me.”

~ N ~

Title: E-Mail Exchange
Author: Hawkedup

Details: This takes place during the events of the 5th season of Angel.

Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Length: ~ 1,400 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed in Buffy the Vampire Slayer created by Joss Whedon, and Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt.

Characters: Fred, Willow, Buffy, Xander, Cordelia, Angel, Spike, Knox, Others

E-Mail Exchange

By: Hawkedup

To: wiccanjewess@ucsd.alternateplanes.net

From: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

Subject: Marie Curie’s Ghost of a Husband

Firstly, I’m sorry about your hometown and the friends you lost. I asked Angel for details, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. I think something happened between him and Buffy. He is moodier and more secretive than usual. It’s like he lost something but doesn’t know what it is. Either way, he is in super brood mode.

But what happened? I have the curse of curiosity. If you don’t want to share, though, I completely understand. I can only imagine what it must be like to lose everything you ever knew, but I understand being willing to do so to fight the fight we must… fight.

Looks like I tend to ramble even in e-mails.

As for your inquiries about Cordelia… There is no change in her condition. I have my best scientists and Wesley has his mystics on it, but… To be honest, we can’t even figure out what is wrong with her. I had the doctors tell her parents that she is in a coma, but that isn’t exactly true. It’s like she is in a restless sleep, about to wake up be never quite opening her eyes.

I wish we knew more about her condition and how she came to be in it. I feel like there is a piece of the puzzle missing. If only we could find that piece, I think I could help her, but… I’d hate to impose, but do you think there might be anything you can do?

There is some good news, too, though. At least I think it’s good news. It’s the reason I’m writing you today. This afternoon—yesterday now, I’ve been working through the night again—Spike appeared, in an incorporeal ghost-like form, via a mystical amulet.

From what I’ve heard, the amulet and Spike played some role in what happened to Sunnydale, and Spike’s soul was somehow preserved inside of it. He is still capable of entering vampire form—though he is incapable of consciously touching anything. Because of this, he should fall through the floor, but it appears that when it comes to standing and sitting on chairs the same rules apply than if he were still corporeal.

(Honestly, I can’t think too much on the physics of mystical situations like this without getting a monster headache that only a bag of tacos can cure.)

Either way, it is Spike, even in a diminished form, and I thought you would like to know. Both he and Angel insist that Buffy not be told, but since you are her best friend I thought it should be a decision you made. I hope I did the right thing.

PS – Thanks for the text message with all the bunnies! They are SO CUTE.

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To: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

From: wiccanjewess@ucsd.alternateplanes.net

Subject: Re: Marie Curie’s Ghost of a Husband

Hi Fred! It’s good to hear from you again!

Thank you for telling me about Spike. It’s a surprise to say the least.

Normally I would scoff assiduously (but cutely) at what those two do or don’t do when it comes to Buffy, but I think Angel and Spike might have the right of it this time (don’t tell them I told you that). From what I hear, Buffy is in a… place these days, and I can’t blame her. I hope you don’t mind, but I forwarded your e-mail to Xander. He is closer to Buffy these days and a better judge on whether and when to tell her about Spike.

I also thought he might want to hear the news (or lack of news) about Cordelia.

I’m sorry about Cordelia. She and I have grown closer than I would have ever thought over the years. (If you knew us in high school, you’d be surprised, too.) It still surprises me to hear of all the things she’s done with you in Los Angeles. As if I can help, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do. I wish I could explain more, but I just can’t.

I’ll do my best to look into it, though. I promise. For now though, I’ll be on a… trip and out of contact for a while. I hope to hear from you as soon as I get back!

 - Willow

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To: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

From: furybondwatcherman@alt.watcher.net

Subject: Ouch!

Hey Fred!

Next time you talk to Willow, will you tell her not to leave any of the big decisions up to me? Buffy had me in a headlock for almost ten minutes before she believed me about Spike. I’ve been beat up many a slayer recently, but nothing quite cricks the neck as a Buffy Summers Half-Nelson, let me tell you.

About Cordelia… I tried to talk Buffy into sending you some of our witches to help, but she isn’t quite as comfortable with Wolfram & Hart as Captain. Forehead. Still, surely the resources of the big law firm are much more reliable than anything we have. But seriously… If you hear anything about Cordy, will you let me know? Especially if she wakes up. I’d like to see her again, especially after… recent events. Thanks, Fred.

 - Xander (AKA The One Eyed Monster)

PS – I’m sorry, I know I don’t know you very well, and this is probably completely out of line, but… It just doesn’t seem like you, from what I’ve heard, to be on the Wolfram & Hart payroll. Are you sure that is where you want to be? I’m sure Buffy would be happy to have someone with your brains around here, and I know I wouldn’t mind being in proximity of another cute girl. Seriously, though. Think about it. It’s an open ended invitation.

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To: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

From: hardknox@alt.wolframandhart.med

Subject: Keep Your Head Up

Fred,

I’ve been thinking about what you mentioned earlier—about leaving Wolfram & Hart so you can join with another group of friends. It sounded like you were seriously considering taking him up on his offer, and I just thought I should at least try to say that I know how hard things must be for you. This place gets to you, I know that. How can it not get to you? But you are good, Fred. And I think that if anyone can use this place for good, it is you. If you want to go, I wouldn’t blame you, but I for one would be said to see you go. And, no offense, but your boss doesn’t seem like the type of person that is exactly close to the human world, and you are the most human person I’ve ever met. And think of the resources at your disposal, resources that you won’t find anywhere else. You are an amazing woman, Fred, who can do amazing things here.

Also, I know of a great Chinese place nearby.

 - Knox

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To: furybondwatcherman@alt.watcher.net

From: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

Subject: I Wish I Could Go

Xander. Thank you for your offer. I came within minutes of writing you to ask you where I should go and what kind of clothes I should pack. I can’t go, though. Maybe someday I will (if the offer is still open) but not today. Angel (or Captain Forehead as both you and Spike have called him recently) needs me. He doesn’t know it, but he does. And the truth is… I’d still take you up on the offer, but I’m afraid that I have sold my soul for the control of a science lab with endless resources. But thank you. You don’t know how much it means to me.

PS – Did you get the bunny text message?

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To: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

From: furybondwatcherman@alt.watcher.net

Subject: Re: I Wish I Could Go

I wish you could, too. No good can come of Wolfram & Hart. And I don’t know what’s scarier. The fact that you have endless resources at your hands to do with as you please in the name of an evil law firm, or the fact that Spike and I came up with the same nickname for Angel. Now THAT’S scary and more than a little disturbing.

PS – You have no idea how bitterly sweet those bunny photos were. Thank you for them!

--------------------------------------------------------

To: hardknox@alt.wolframandhart.med

From: copernifred@alt.wolframandhart.med

Subject: Re: Keep Your Head Up

Hey, Knoxy. Thanks for the pep talk earlier. I really needed it. I try talking with the guys, but they are all too busy being busy to think about things like that these days.

Also, Chinese!? You know me too well!

~ A ~

Title: 15: Werewolves in L.A.
Author: Hawkedup

Summary: This takes place before the events of Angel: After the Fall #1 but sometime after the “First Night” mini. It is part of my “15” series in which I more deeply explore the minor characters of the ‘Verse.

Rating: PG
Warnings: Violence
Length: ~ 1,700 words
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations portrayed Angel created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt, and Angel: After the Fall created by Joss Whedon and Brian Lynch.

Characters: Nina.

15: Werewolves in L. A.

By: Hawkedup

So… life in Hell. I have to admit: It isn’t all that weird. Granted, it would probably be a little harder to handle if I hadn’t spent three restless nights a month for the last year locked up in a small metal cage. Oh! Don’t worry. It wasn’t one of those kinky sex and/or lobotomy cages or anything. Went through that phase in college and got over it pretty fast. And really, the whole being held captive against my will—well, against my nighttime/full moon will, which, decidedly: Not me in my most rational state of mind—thing kept me out of the type of trouble one only gets themselves into when they just happen to eat someone alive.

Plus, I got to spend some time with him.

That overdramatic, sweet, big foreheaded idiot. Who, by the way, I haven’t seen since my hometown took the big Tower of Terror Drop that never stopped. I stayed around even after he told me something big was about to happen—something bad. In hindsight, that was probably a mistake. I should have gotten on that plane with Jill and Amanda. At least they got away, though, and they don’t have to dance with zombie Botticelli in the pale moonlight on a regular basis.

Maybe I should be thankful to him for that, for helping me get my family out of here. Maybe I am. It’s hard to forgive a guy who sends his ghost secretary to do his dirty work—that’s a whole different story, though. But still… I don’t know. The one thing I swear is this: If I ever see him again… I’ll rip his chest open and slowly devour every piece of his flesh slowly. And since he’s a vampire, I could totally bathe in his blood, which I could also use to paint a big scarlet mural like I always wanted, for weeks before…

Right. Cool it, crazy wolf lady. Focus.

My name is Nina Ash, and I’m your every day typical artist/werewolf/resident of Hell. At least I think I am. I think I’m still the werewolf thing, I mean—okay, maybe the artist thing too, but mostly the werewolf thing. Hard to tell now days. Last I checked, a werewolf was a human that turned into a wolf with the full moon (and, surprise, the nights before and after a full moon as well—thanks for letting me know that part Mr. Claude Rains).

But what do you call a girl who is half-human, half-wolf all the time? The simple answer to that is: Hungry, itchy, and moody. So, I guess you could say that being a werewolf in Hell is sort of like being pregnant. Oh man. Jill would have hated that joke. Connor’s been a bad influence on me. Anyway…

“Nina!” Mike says and punches my arm. “Head in the game.”

We’re on top of a building about two miles from the home base, the two of us on lookout. We gotta make sure no vamp or demon gangs start infesting Santa Monica. Infesting Santa Monica more than it already is, of course.

Mike’s a Brachen demon. I’m not one for trusting demons what with the whole them being demons thing, but especially not so trusting after everything I’ve seen them do the past couple months. But Connor trusts him. He says Angel had a friend who was a Brachen demon once, too—went out all glorific and everything. Whatever. Connor trusts the guy so I trust the guy. Even if he did make a few passes at me when he first joined up with Connor’s mini-army and worthless citizen’s brigade.

Mike’s got a green face and is way too spiky for my taste—definitely not the kind of face I could learn to love. Luckily, I think Mike’s moved on and now has a thing for Gwen. Mike hasn’t noticed the goggle eyes she’s passing to Connor, but again, whatever. Relationships with demons and electric girls and prophesized offspring of vampires and their resurrected vampire sires who spent most their life in a hell dimension much like this one… I learned my lesson when it came to supernatural dating. Thanks, but I’ll just stick to Passions. Or I would, anyway—it would most definitely be better than what they’ve been showing on TV lately.

The roof sways beneath our feet, and I try not to think that this is because the building has gone all Sarlacc on us and grown a mouth. (A Sarlacc is that big mouth thing in Return of the Jedi that lived in the sand—so I dated a couple nerds in my time, sue me.)

“You see that over there?” Mike says.

He points. Down the street a group of humans are looting what used to be a record store. Funny. Usually, I’m disgusted with all these people who hold up big neon “come eat/enslave me” signs like this. Place’s been in hell for how long now, and people still going about their business like it’s Hurricane Katrina all over again? I can’t imagine why anybody would be out and about when the lords are rounding up anyone that steps foot into the streets, but at least these people are going for the music. Gotta admit, there isn’t enough good tuneage in Hell.  (Tuneage? Definitely been hanging out with Connor too much.) I could go for a few CDs myself—if, you know, any CD players or radios even work anymore.

Just keep AC/DC and Warren Zevon the Heaven away from me.

“Yeah,” I say. “I see it. Let’s go get ‘em.”

“Hopefully they got some Elton John,” Mike says.

I give him my best “if you’re any more idiotic, I’m so going to gnaw on your ribcage” look and then start climbing down the side of the building. Before I know it, I’m on the ground and running toward the humans. Pure joy comes over me. God, I just love to run! I feel free and alive when I run, and… I yell at myself. Gotta stay focused, stay human. If I’m not careful, I’m gonna end up yapping stupidly every time Connor takes my leash of its hook.

Not that I have a leash, mind you. Not yet, anyway.

I reign myself in so Mike can catch up. Brachen demons are strong and quick, but not so strong and quick as me.

“Thanks,” he says as he runs alongside me, “I thought I was gonna get to them and find that you’d already had a four course meal.”

“Keep talking, Sonic the… Did Sonic have a slower, uglier, twin brother?”

When we get to the record store, I tell Mike to wait out of sight. No use scaring the innocent human looters with his face before I can explain to them what’s going on.

“Hey,” I say as I step into the record store, “My name’s Nina. I—”

I barely have enough time to jump out of the way of a ball of fire that spews forth from one of the men’s flame throwers. I take shelter behind the register counter.

“Hey! Calm down, I’m here to help!”

“We don’t want your help!” the man calls out. “Leave us alone!”

“We have a place nearby! It’s safe.”

“Nowhere is safe!”

I’m about to jump the guy when I see something come flying toward the only one of the building’s windows that is still intact. It slams through the glass, which explodes. It’s Mike. His body slides on the floor and smashes into the counter where I’m hiding. I look at him and for one wild moment, gladness fills my heart because it appears that he’s only broken his neck. But then I look at the rest of him. Or rather, the lack of rest of him.

He’s been cut in half at the waist.

“Come out, humans!” a voice calls from outside. “We slaughter sympathizer, no come out, you next!” I sneak closer to the window and see that there are three lizard demons out there. I haven’t seen them around before, but they don’t look too tough—must’ve gotten the jump on Mike.

“Hey!” I call out, “uh… flame thrower guy! Three big ugly demons out there. Is there a back door?”

There is no answer for a few moments, but then:

“Yeah, but it’s blocked. We’re gonna have to take ‘em or surrender.”

“You willing to listen to what I gotta say if I help you get outta this?”

A pause.

“Okay.”

“Okay! We attack together! On three…”

As I count, I look down at my hands. My fingers elongate, grow claws. In moments like this, I gotta give the wolf a little more breathing room—let it out. It’s a better fighter than I am. The whole of my martial art skills consist of whatever I remember from that one credit Tae Bo class I took Freshman year. And to be fair, I missed more than one period and barely squeaked by with a C—I mean, it was at, like, 8 o’clock in the morning, so I’m sure you understand.

By the time I say “three” I’m barely Nina anymore. I’m just… angry.

The battle doesn’t last long. It’s a blur. Connor calls it a battle high. I know better, though. It’s blood lust. By the end, all three lizard demons are toast, but so are flame thrower man and two other humans. I barely give their bodies a second glance. That’s another present Hell gives you on a daily basis: a tough stomach. Best not dwell on it. The survivors look at me like a savior, even though I’m having trouble fighting down the wolf, my teeth even feel sharper, and I try to not look at them like extremely rare and tender meat.

One of them is a fat little girl. Somewhere the human in me wonders how anyone could stay fat in the world’s least air conditioned rat motel, but the wolf sees only dinner.

“Follow me,” I say giving one last look at Mike’s body. He was a good demon. That was a strange thought. There was a time I didn’t even believe in demons, but now I have to believe some of them are good.

I’m a demon now, too.

Then I lead my new family to Connor. I lead them home.

~ N ~