I could have been here for an hour or for twenty years, quite honestly I have no way of knowing because in Hell the concept of time is non existent. There is nothing in this place but eternal misery and utter anguish; it truly is the abysmal waste the damned so self-righteously deserve. I’m not trying to play the part of the martyr, because if anyone ever deserved to rot for eternity in this complete and total waste of existence it is I… I guess I can’t say I lead the most wholesome of lives. I was an assassin and I was at the top of my field. The worst part about my life was that I enjoyed my profession; or calling if you will. Given the option most people cannot take another human life, not only did I enjoy taking life, I reveled in it. There was a sense of exhilaration that came when I pulled the trigger, for me it was almost an orgasmic feeling when my blade sliced ever so cleanly through my marks ever so deserving throat… But I digress; this is really about what is happening now, for some reason I have been freed from my penance and once again I walk the mortal plane, but most disturbing of all, I am not alone…

Artimas takes in his surroundings noticing the subtle features only someone of his profession would pick up on. Of course is was instinct alone that led him to pick up on the three exits to the bar, the bar tender that obviously knows how to handle himself and the person keeping to the shadows. He was still in shock from his release and reeling at being corporeal once again. Noticing the restroom, he decides to duck inside to regain his composure…

Eve stands waiting in the shadows of the bar, sensing his coming presence. Carefully she moves through the darkness almost unnoticed. Her black trench coat helped conceal her in places like this. The one thing she hated more than this New World was the numerous miscraents that lived here. Eve knew why she had been sent but hated that she had to explain to these new comers why they were here. It was as if she was better than they were because she was chosen first, but unfortunately… she had failed. If it wasn’t for her loyalty to the mission and to the Master, she could care less how these low lives adapted to this new, sick and twisted world.

Most of the select chosen were clueless as to why they were released but most of all, they were shocked by their arrival back into the mortal plain. Some were given clothes and others were placed here with nothing. Eve laughed at those most unfortunate souls and often wondered what they had done to be treated in such a manner. The Master was obviously bothered by something when they were chosen and found personal pleasure in watching them suffer and deal with the embarrassment of being cast into a world they no longer knew with nothing but the knowledge of their previous opulent existence.

Like a bolt of lightning, Eve cast her eyes towards the bathroom door and saw him disappear. He was here and a sadistic smile made the corner of her lips rise. She carefully made her way to the Men’s Room and turned to look over her shoulder before pushing the door open… no one was watching and in this day and age, no one dared to say anything if they were.

Eve stepped into the dimly lit room; her eyes quickly focused on Artimus. She reveled in the bewilderment that shown in his eyes yet took pause to notice that it didn’t show on his face, unlike the countless looks she had seen before on the faces of those who had once trusted her, the look like they were dreaming and she wasn’t really there until they felt the coldness of her blade run across their throat.

Eve knew of Artimus’s past life, hell she even perceived him as The Chosen One of his profession, but now was not the time to discuss her approval of his techniques. She knew that he had to be wondering what the hell was going on and she had best explain before his instincts kicked back in and he did what only came natural.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering what the hell is going on and why you are here… Let me make it simple… Just hear me out.”

"You wanna make it simple eh? Then how about you tell me this... What the fuck is going on, I am rotting in hell after I get wasted by the one person I trust most in my life, which was not the best experience of my life by the way... I could really do without all the burning and constant violations if truth be told... and for that matter what the fuck makes you think I won’t cut your fuckin throat just for obviously knowing what the hell is going on... I should so waste you right now and just walk out of this goddamn bar… Give me one reason not to…”

There was something about this bar, Lemuel thought. The very soul of this place was shrouded in darkness, sheathed behind a wall impervious even to his own powers.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, at least. No outbreak of demon infestation, no invasion of alien warlords. The first time he found such a dark portal, he was still an Archangel, and would soon engage in battle that in the end, would eventually curse him with undeath.

Undeath...at the hands of his beloved, the Celtic witch Morrigan.

He gazes at the building and his eyes glow with blue heavenly light. If anyone had noticed him at this hour, they would have been frightened off by this black-clad apparition. By all appearances, he would be barely noticable in the city. Long, dark hair, a long overcoat, shirt and pants, and shoes. Except for the long golden lock that strayed across his pale face, he would have been just another Goth or vampire wannabe up and about.

He felt the need to fly away, to extend his immense dark wings and leave. Such places brought nothing but sorrow and tragedy to him. Nevertheless, old habits die hard, and despite his fate, he bore no ill will to the Powers, and rather enjoyed being the good guy once in a while, as the vampire whom he recently immolated would be happy to attest to, if she was still alive.

How he longed for Gabriel's reassuring voice...and Michael's self confidence.

He braced himself as he pushed open the glass door, and walked inside.

Eve carefully reached behind her back, slowly grasping the handle of her blade carefully strapped to her. She knew that if she made any sudden moves he would be all over her in a split second. She moved slowly closer to him, out of the shadows to where he could see her face and her eyes, knowing that what she was about to say was truth and that he could trust her… at least for now.

Eve began to speak, “Because I know you, Artimus… I know why you were sent to Hell… I know who it was that took your life… Because I have the answers to the questions that are flooding your mind. If you could just calm yourself and let me explain, you will understand and maybe, just maybe feel that same adrenaline that you once felt every time you received the information on your next mark.”

The sun sank and the weak twilight rays filtered through the tattered blinds of a dilapidated apartment. How long? How long had it been he wondered as the song of mourning played through his mind and haunted his ever dour mood.
"It is of no consequence," he muttered aloud as he dressed for the night ahead.

His hooded robe lay but a few feet away but as Azeon stood looking at it he felt the pressure of what he left behind, what his own voice made him sacrifice. That robe was his reminder of what it was there to cover, what is was given to him for.
The ache was still there, time untold had passed but yet the pain was an ever present choir of voices in the depths of his mind. "Funny," he thought as his thin fingers and delicate hands firmly gripped the robes collar to don it once again, "that I should come to need the very object designed to remind me of my fate, of my failure. Funny indeed,". With that thought he checked to make sure his weapons of war were securly fastened to his person, ensuring that should any threat present itself the conflict would be short lived. Truth be told he never needed these crude tools, however, an eternity on this rock gave him the time to practice many things his brothers never came to know. As he left the run down, one room apartment his hand closed on the smooth, black shaft of his primary weapon, simple but effective. Why not use the one weapon universal to every human culture he had ever seen or been a part of? A simple laquered staff, five feet in length and every inch of it deadly in the hands of this particular immortal. And with that the ghostly smile that passed this tightly drawn lips vanished as a shadow on a moonless night.

He entered the street like a ghost into a fog, the street people cowed away from his imposing figure and he passed by them paying little, if any, attention to their miserable existance. His thoughts meandered through the centuries, had it really been so many? He cursed putting on the black glasses once again. Humans were not accustomed to his appearance. Angels have no pupils, no iris, no soul to go inside their eyes. Instead they are simple white orbs, glowing blue and in Azeon's experience it was always best to keep human kind from seeing what they cannot understand. His long, golden locks flowed past his shoulders as his ivory skinned hands pulled up his hood once more. His strong body would not age, his mind would never fail, he was immortal. An Angel cast from Heaven so many years ago and now he continues his work on Earth, never knowing if what he does is God's will. Never again would he hear his mentor's words, never again would he follow Michael's charge, never would he hear Gabriel's council. He was on his own, as he had been for so long, removed from God's sight and left to wonder if he would ever find the peace he so desperately sought.

These things and more wandered on the edge of Azeon's consciousness while his eyes darted to each end of ally after ally as he sought the evil that plagued the world of men. Every day a life he claimed in the name of God, old habits die hard for the Messengers of Death. Tonight would be no different, or so Azeon thought.

Pain. In his mind he felt a racking scream of agony, of evil, of desperation. This banshee's cry chilled his bloodless veins with the promises of corruption, domination and revenge. This was the call of all that is evil, a call he was uniquely qualified to hear. Azeon quietly jumped to the top of the nearby brownstone building and perched as if his wings were still attached to his body, a favorite watch point. There his covered eyes surveyed the city. His eyes could see the heat of evil, they could pierce the clouds of shadow and there, in the distance, lay the source of the call.

"Evil comes tonight. I know not its purpose, but I hear its call and to those who answer the Dark Master will find the vengeful wraith of God's servant".

With that Azeon spoke aloud the Angel's Prayer, a prayer spoken only by the Messengers of Death.

"And when I vest my flashing sword and my hand takes hold in judgement I will take vengeance upon thine enemies and I will repay those who hase me.
And the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river as the Messengers of Death spread their blackened wings and become the vengeaful striking hammer of the Lord God Almighty. O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me amoung Thy blessed".

And with the end of his nightly prayer Azeon ventured forth, seeking the heart of Evil which had come to him this night.

So began the latest chapter in the life of this Fallen Angel, a chapter which may never see an end and may signal the end of all he has fought and suffered for.

Something is a bit odd about this woman, she claims to know me yet anyone that has ever known the real me has been on their constant guard, yet she looks quite calm, almost relaxed. The sudden realization hits him like a hammer to the back of the head, She’s not from around here. Hell I can’t even tell if she is alive. She looks alive enough, and quite easy on the eyes, but something about her isn’t right. Best try and be a little polite till I figure this one out.

“I apologize; I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I have just been having an unusual evening and I can’t quite get my bearings. You say that you know me, about my life, or should I say my past life?”

The pain starts… it begins as a subtle twinge at the base of the neck and slowly builds into a massive migraine that starts leaking throughout Artimas’ entire body. His vision begins to blur but he manages to keep his composure because of the strict discipline his former training granted him.

“You can quit reaching for the knife hun, it won’t do you much good if I have to take it from you.”

Artimas tries to flash a coy smile but his entire body begins a subtle spasm and all he manages is a half smirk, half dry-heave. The pain was beginning to become unbearable and he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to stay on his feet let alone remain conscious.

Eve slowly smiled at his ability to pick up on her reaching for her blade. She playfully nodded and brought her hands up in a “you’ve got me” gesture. About that time she noticed his body begin to writhe with pain. It’s beginning… His gifts are starting to surface. Eve bit her bottom lip to keep the evil chuckle contained within her. A sadistic smile curved her crimson lips as she walked closer to him.

Eve placed a thin ivory hand upon his shoulder and leaned in, her breath tickling the side of his neck. “This is going to hurt like hell.” She let out a disturbing giggle, “but then again, you already know what that feels like, don’t you Art?”

Eve straightened her long thin body and pushed Artimas back knowing that with the force and the pain his new body was experiencing he would fall quickly to the cold wet tiles of the restroom floor. She tilted her head as his knees hit the ground. If the smell of urine didn’t do it, the pain would soon have him gagging and vomiting.

Eve knelt down, her leather pants stretching against her thighs. She couldn’t contain it any longer and began to chuckle. “It’ll be all over soon Art… don’t worry. Then you’ll be thanking Him for giving you this pain.”

Eve stood back up and watched in delight. Memories of when she was brought back to this disgusting planet flooded her mind. She remembered The Master coming to her while in that fiery pit of Hell and telling her about the task that would be bestowed upon her and two others. It was as if all those stupid prayers that she had once prayed to an Unforgiving God had finally come true… but from someone she didn’t expect. The smile that caressed her lips was now not only from the pleasure of watching Artimas suffer, but from the thought of her Master as well.

As his knees hit the bathroom floor Artimas let out a stifling gasp, the sudden shock of feeling physical pain was something he was not accustomed to experiencing, being in Hell is torture for the soul, not the body. The complete and utter turmoil that was ravaging his new fragile form was beyond description; it was as if he was being torn apart and remade at the same time. His last conscious thought was that she had called him Art. Something only one other person in his life had dared call him to his face. She turned out to be the only person he had ever really trusted, but also the same person that sent him to Hell.

Artimas slowly regained consciousness, upon waking he noticed that things seemed different. The first being the pain had not only subsided but was replaced by a heightened sense of awareness. As he rose to his feet he looked this strange woman straight in the eye and smiled. “What in the holy hell just happened?”

Eve continued to smile as she watched Artimas return to his feet. She wondered what gifts the Master would give him and considered testing him right now, but thought it too soon. But there was something in his eyes that taunted her… like a button just begging to be pushed, and oh how she loved to push people’s buttons.

There was a sudden twinkle in Eve’s lifeless eyes as she walked closer to Artimas. Inches separated them now and she tilted her head closer and took in a quick breath. The scent of him and his newly acquired awareness filled her lungs. Another one of her sadistic chuckles escaped her lips. “Not yet.” She whispered and then took a few steps back. She knew that the fight would be good, but she wanted to wait.

Turning her back on him, which would speak wonders and probably blow his mind, she walked to the mirror and gazed upon her flawless face. Her piercing green eyes seemed to glow; yet there was no life in them just like the rest of her. “You’re gifts just entered your body. Do you honestly think that Master would bring you back to fight a battle that your mortal body could not possibly win without giving you special gifts?”

Eve gently ran one of her perfectly manicured fingers over her lips and then pressed them together, the shade of her lipstick bursting back to it’s full color. Almost as if losing her patience, she turned and sighed. “We are each given something that not only compliments but enhances our natural talents, if that’s what you would call them. For me it is enhanced vision, strength and telepathy.”

Eve walked around him, her hands clasped behind her back. “There are some things though, that are universal, that we are all given. We no longer have to worry about growing old or getting sick. It’s as if our bodies are now immune to the mortal problems that plague these sheep of this planet.” A look of repulsion crossed Eve’s face and then faded as she continued.

“This does not mean we cannot die because we can.” Eve’s eyes darted to Artimas’, her pupils quickly dilating then returning to their normal appearance. There was so much that she had to tell him, but the scent of urine and vomit was beginning to annoy her and she was ready to leave. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and I’ll explain more. I cannot stand the smell of this damn place.”

Damn this bitch is full of herself; she is either incredibly cocky or completely dense. Turning her back on me, I’ve been weighed before but that was almost insulting. I’m going to have to teach this one some manners, or gut her, either way doesn’t really matter once I find out the rest of what she has to tell. I realize that I should probably have a teacher and all but why did I have to get stuck with the whiny ass bitch from Hell? Artimas chuckled silently. Good grief, she tries to come off as a bad ass yet the smell of the men’s room offends her subtle sensibilities. What did I do to get stuck with this piece of work… oh yeah, deal with the devil and all. And with that he sighs…

“Yeah, this place is rather repulsive, lets get out of here and find something that offers a little more aesthetic appeal.”

I guess I can fake the pleasantries if it will move this sideshow along. It could be worse, at least I’m not rotting in the pit.

“So did you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”

Out of the bar and miles across town, Issabelle Quentin lie restless in her lofty apartment. The finest bedsheets and pillows money would buy couldn't bring her peaceful slumber this evening.

"Time for the mind is a terrible thing to waste."

Her father's favorite phrase bounced around inside her head almost in sync with her tossing and turning. Lately it seemed that her mind had decided it would keep it's own schedule, kicking into overdrive every night when the rest of her just wanted sleep.

If a tree falls in the woods but no one.....ugh...just stop thinking!" she told herself with a smack to the forehead. As she rolled over for a time check, the phone rang.

"Hello?"
"Dr. Quentin, this is Dr. Penn. Sorry to wake you at such an hour."
"It's fine, Chuck, what seems to be so urgent?"
"I just wanted to inform you that we implemented the changes you suggested earlier. I thought you'd be pleased to hear that you were correct and everything is progressing right along."
"Well, that's excellent, Chuck. Thanks for the ego ruffle, but if you don't need any assistance then I'll speak with you about all this in the morning."
"Certainly, Issabelle. There's no need to drag you in here tonight. Get your rest because I have a feeling that tomorrow will be one of those days."
"Will do, see you in the morning then. Night."
"Night."

She hung up the phone and wondered: If a scientist has a break through in research that no one knows about, could they still receive the nobel prize? Issabelle glanced toward the wall where she'd hung all her father's awards. It was amazing how much a glossy piece pf paper could mean to people these days. Pondering sweet thoughts of recognition, she closed her eyes and finally slipped off to sleep.

Lemuel approached the bar very slowly, so as not to be too conspicuous. The dim lighting hid his appearance quite well, but he was far too striking to be unnoticed.
He noticed a blonde and her companion eyeing him rather hungrily. He glanced back at the two women and cast a smile their way, to which he received implicit approval.

The thought of indulging his need for base pleasure this evening appealed to him, but he doesn't dare give in to his own physical desires, however, as he would be forced to destroy them should they learn his real identity, and he has had enough of killing of late. Humans may be deceived rather easily, he thought, but the vampire world has learned to hate him, and after being centuries of being cursed, he learned to appreciate the fine art of masquerading as a human.

The bartender stared at him for a second, then nodded in slight agreement as he recognized the new patron. A few seconds later, a glass filled with fresh blood was handed to Lemuel, and he downs the drink rather slowly, savoring the taste of the life giving fluid, and letting it permeate every inch of his body.

The blonde vampiress sat next to him, and asked, "What's your pleasure tonight, hun? I haven't seen another one of us in a long time...and Camille and I have been rather...lonely...of late," casting a glance at her companion. A tall, Eurasian beauty, she stood up, letting the bar notice her exquisite body and she walked over to Lemuel with long, steady steps. "I see Marianne has taken quite a fancy to you, beautiful one, and we long for a male to join us tonight."

Lemuel sensed something not quite right, however, and he asked, "Where are the others? Surely there might be more around? Forgive me, as I am a stranger to these parts."

Marianne replied, in a whisper, "There are rumors of an Angel walking the streets, hunting down all the creatures of darkness he finds and slaying them at his whim. We may be the last of our community here..." as her voice breaks off, looking around in fear.

An..angel?! Lemuel was sure he hasn't been around here recently...but from the look of fear in her eyes these attacks would have been a recent event. His curiositly piqued at the thought of another of his kin about, he replies, "Tell me more about this...angel?"

No sooner had he said that when he hears an unearthly cry from the depths of the night. The terrified women stare at him and Marianne says,"He is coming, soon. Come with us to safety if you wish. There is a haven not far from here, if you wish to go with us."

Lemuel declines, saying, "I'm curious about this...angel. Go take shelter if you wish...I need to know more."

"You, sir, are foolish if you think you can take on this angel by yourself. He will destroy you in an instant," Camille replies.

"I think not, but you should both leave now." The women look at him in shock before they exit the bar through the rear door.

Hmm....Lemuel thinks. Who could possibly have been cast down after I have been? Couldn't be one of the Circle of Seven...probably one other.

He makes his way through to follow the vampire women, in case the mysterious attacker goes after them, and as he approaches the Mens Room, the door opens as he sees a male...and a female....exit. A female? From the Mens Room?

He stands momentarily and takes a long hard look at them....

Azeon raced toward the origin of the demonic cry. One of pain? One of triumph? The questions raced through his mind. It was never possible to tell, creatures of the divine could never understand the guttural language of Hell's lower, more primal creatures. In fact, only a few were blessed with the power by God to hear such things at all. Azeon began wondering if it was more of a curse than a blessing as he silently made his way to the unknown destination.

*vOOshh* was the sound his black robe made as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, making his way toward the inevitable dangers of Hell. For the first time he found himself hoping the threat was nothing more than a Vampire. "Just a Vampire," he mused to himself. Azeon had killed a number of the beasts since he had arrived here, apparently they had gone unchecked for too long and they were beginning to get careless, though in recent weeks they had become much harder to find. "It must have been due to that bastard Vesean, that coward ran away. Surely, he told the blood drinkers of my presence," Azeon thought to himself as he continued forward over the soft glow of traffic, street lights and mobs of people.

There.
There is where the cry came from, the call heard only in his still throbbing head. Since falling to this mortal world just over twenty centuries ago he had fought few of Hell's spawn and every one of those battles was close, too close. All things considered it was impossible to know for sure what fate held inside that small, seedy bar so Azeon decided the best course of action would be to wait.

Perched upon the corner of a nearby building Azeon watched with his own unshielded eyes for the evil which was surely close by. Maybe he would confront the creature directly, maybe he would follow it, he didn't know for sure. He waited in the misshapen shadows and breathed in the tainted air.

Evil was near as well as something else, something he couldn't put his finger on...

Eve paused as she walked through the Men’s room door. It was her senses that first caught the scent of another vampire, but this was no ordinary creature of the night. Her eyes quickly locked with those of the stranger. Time seemed to stand still as her thoughts raced through her head and then Eve began to grin.

The Great Lemuel, the Fallen Archangel, here in this dank little bar. Surely he is not here for me? No one knew of my whereabouts except Master. she thought. Eve’s lips parted in a smile and her enlarged canines seemed to glow in the dark corner of the rundown establishment. “Lemuel, so good to see you. What brings you to the finer area of this town?” Eve said in an almost mocking tone.

Eve had no wish to begin a brawl so early in the evening. The fact that she was with a newly reborn soul, she wasn’t sure that she could watch him and protect herself at the same time. She walked out into the dimly lit room as the restroom door closed behind her.

Artimas drifts up beside Eve and slides his right arm around her waist underneath her long black coat accomplishing two things, first it would give the stranger the false sense that they were together, possibly as a couple, but most importantly it put Artimas’ hand on the hilt of the blade Eve had earlier been reaching for. Artimas had no idea who this Lemuel was but the fact that Eve obviously knew of him did not bode well.

Lets see now, there are two exits to this place, the main one straight ahead and a second out the back down a hallway to the right. If need be I will opt for the one down the hallway because cutting my through this guy doesn’t sound appealing, especially since he doesn’t look right, who in the hell has completely black eyes anyway?

Artimas gives Lemuel a simple nod so as not to be dismissive, hopefully making him think he was nothing to worry about, just some posturing fool laying claim to his woman.

Eve.

Very few of Hell's creatures were a match for him, even as a vampire, but Eve was more than just a simple minion of darkness. Favored by Lucifer like no other, she could be a deadly adversary if provoked, despite his formidable powers.
And she could also bestow gifts and pleasures no ordinary mortal or undead woman could.

He felt a gnawing in his gut as he sensed his ancient hunger coming back. She probably sensed it too, but he was in no mood for renewing acquaintances. Especially not with her, and not tonight.

As soon as her companion presented himself, he gave him a quick glance and thought, another damned soul in her thrall - but not a threat to him. Yet.

He never knew Eve to mix business with pleasure, however. She was ruthlessly efficient that way. There was something afoot, and Lemuel was quite sure she holds the answers he needs.

He kept his ears open however - in case the mysterious Angel appears nearby. No way could he face off against them both...better keep cool until he learns more from her.

Giving acknowledgement to the man's greeting, he turned to Lucifer's ace and replied, "Hello, Eve. You're certainly the last one I would expect to run into again....especially after what happened. "

Eve let out a sigh that could have easily been mistaken for a hum; the sound echoed throughout the small bar. He either knew of the failed mission or that something was up, and she really could not blame him. It wasn’t very often that Eve allowed herself to be noticed, and the fact that she was here with another was sure to have his intellectual mind racing.

Feeling a need to play along, Eve walked over to Lemuel, her piercing green eyes staring at him from above the tops of her shades. She reached up and ran a delicate finger across his jaw and smiled. “Buy me a drink Lemuel, my thirst is becoming unbearable… and you know how I get when I’m thirsty.” The latter part of her sentence low and alluring.

Eve had not forgotten of Artimas and shot a quick glance to him and nodded, hoping that he picked up on the signal to remain calm but alert. She would have to explain later the past that Lemuel and she once had, but now was not the time. She wanted to pry into Lemuel’s mind and see if he knew of the whereabouts of this scientist’s lab and if he knew anything of the cloned Christ.

Eve walked over to the bar and removed her shades, her eyes glowing with excitement. It wasn’t every day that she got to play with one of God’s fallen, but this wasn’t the kind of play that she enjoyed most. She could smell Lemuel’s arousal, both curiosity and seductive, and a deep purr resonated within her. If she only had the time she thought to herself, but then again, every time she mingled with Lemuel, not only was her strength spent but a good portion of her blood supply as well.

Artimas releases his hold on the hilt of Eves’ blade as she moves away and he stands alone for a brief moment. He watched her walk over to Lemuel and was beginning to grow impatient with her. Catching her quick glance Artimas decides he wants no part in whatever game she intends to play with Lemuel. He tries sending her a telepathic message; Hell, she had earlier told him she could move things with her mind, maybe they could communicate like this as well. “I’m going to step outside for a bit,” he thinks as he looks at her and concentrates.

What the hell am I doing… telepathic conversations… what a crock of shit… I’m more fucked up than I thought if I’m buying into this kind of crap.

Artimas turns on his heel and walks down the hallway towards the door that led out the back of the bar. Half way down he begins to recall a memory, the memory of his death. He feels his spine turn to ice and quickly dismisses the thought before it can take hold and make him loose his focus. Something that during his previous life he never let happen, he had to be cold and calculated otherwise he wouldn’t be in control of the situation. For an assassin not being in control of the situation meant being caught or worse… sometimes much worse…

Absorbed in the thought for the second that he was Artimas had lost track of his pace and almost collided with the closed door. Had he been moving faster than normal? He couldn’t decide if it was that or the momentary loss of composure but he was about to run into the door. Throwing out a hand to push the door open he was shocked to see the door almost fly off its hinges. What bothered him most however, was the fact his hand had never made contact with the door. It was as if some force had blown it open, and not a subtle force at that.

What in the Hell was that? It was almost like I could feel an energy around the door and when I felt it I could manipulate it… Maybe the whiny bitch was telling the truth about all this “dark gift” bullshit…

Standing for a moment in disbelief Artimas was beginning to become frustrated. For the first time in his life his body felt foreign to him, there were things happening that he couldn't explain and he was not happy about it.

Standing there looking at the ruined frame of the door Artimas gets an uneasy feeling; there was something outside that doorway, something waiting that meant him harm. Being unarmed and mentally exhausted, Artimas decides to head back down the hallway and go have a drink at the bar. Perhaps relaxing for a bit and having a drink will calm me down, and damn, I could really use a cigarette... He thought to himself.

Passing Eve and Lemuel, Artimas makes his way to the far side of the bar and has a seat “what’s the good news buddy, how about a drink and a pack of smokes” he says to the bartender…

*As the man opened the door to the bar, the wind whistled inwards with him. No one cared about this man, he looked like a bum crossed with a zen master. The leather hat covered most of his face in shadow, except for the stuble on his face.
No shoes he walked barefoot over some broken glass on the ground, and stood at the end of the bar bleeding form the feet. Not showing any kind of care for the little trickle of blood coming from his foot.
He opened his long white coat to remove some money, he then ordered a whiskey from the bar man. He didn't smell he was quite clean, the only thing that people would look at once more was the fact that he dressed in a very strange way.*

Across the street from the beautiful apartment that Issabelle Quentin slept uneasily in, was another high rise apartment. Just as beautiful and just as lavish.A dark skinned woman stood out on her balcony looking across into Issabelle Quentins home..
How ironic she thought, maybe this so called scientist was feeling guilty..Though she doubted it.
She had been watching the doctor for some time now and of what she had learned, this woman was different..
She wasnt like the rest of the doctors who stood by with their white coats and little charts to afraid to get messy..This woman was the real deal, the one that worked her ass off to get where she was..
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ears she leaned against the cold metal balcony and listened to Issabelle talk into the phone..
If only she were a bit closer she could hear the other side of the conversation too, but than, if she were any closer, she might be found out..and she certaintly didnt want that to happen...yet.
She wanted to bide her time, unlike the rest.
Those fools that had rushed to the task without any knowledge of their task..So much for those fools being the best she thought as she rolled her eyes..
She knew she wasnt the best..but yet she was chosen..or was she? She hadnt really been assigned, but she heard of what was going down and decided to fight for the good of whatever it was. But she'd let herself be known in good time..when everything was clear to her and when she knew she'd be needed..for now..she'd bide her time and watch the good doctor till the time came to intervene.

OC: I'm going to post as Pier now, playing as Lemuel.

His eyes followed Eve as she made her way to the bar. The specter of the angel having left his mind for a minute, he let himself absorb her beauty, slowly. Nothing much has changed the last several hundred years, as he watched her green eyes glow in the darkness. As deadly alluring as ever.
His wings stirred underneath his coat, and he felt the urge to suppress their instinctual reaction to unfurl and defend him. The bar would not be the ideal spot to be discovered as an Archangel....

He steadied himself and walked up to sit beside Eve, and observing her companion seated a few feet away, he turned to the bartender and the latter, without hesitation, poured two vodka martinis, even though everyone knew it wasn't what they really wanted to drink.

He felt himself transfixed by her gaze, and he felt her stare descend to his bare throat. He shivered slightly as he felt his own need for her erupt in his loins. It was always an uncomfortable feeling for him, having to deal with the pleasures of the flesh either as mortal or undead.

Nevertheless, he averted his eyes from her, embarassed by his reaction. Finally composing himself, he looked up, returned her smile and continued, "I think we have a few questions we need to ask each other...starting with why are we both here. But that can wait...if you wish. What do you wish to drink?"

He slowly began to unroll his sleeve and placed his arm beside her in a gesture of offering.

Eve’s eyes gazed upon the exposed flesh of Lemuel’s arm, almost hypnotized by the sight. Another purr escaped from deep within her. Carefully she licked her lips, the tips of her fangs scrapping over the top of her tongue. A growing hunger began to stir deep within the confines of her immortal body. He knew she wanted to feed and thought him evil for tempting her. Maybe Lilith got to him after all?

As she watched his arm, Eve could see his blood flowing effortlessly through his veins. It would be rude of me not to partake in the harmless exchange. she thought to herself in an innocent way. Eve smiled as she looked up at Lemuel. It was not the first time she had tasted angelic blood and surely it would not be the last. Finally she spoke, “The martini looks delicious, but your invitation is hard to pass up.”

Eve carefully brought Lemuel’s wrist up to her lips. She could smell his essence, the scent filling her senses causing her emerald eyes to close. She carefully parted her lips as she felt her canines grow to their full length. Eve opened her eyes just as her pearly white fangs pierced Lemuel’s flesh; his blood flowing easily into her mouth. Her gaze landed upon Artimas sitting at the end of the bar, diligently watching. This should set his thoughts racing. she thought and then winked as a look of confusion and surprise smothered his handsome face.

Eve thought that she should let Artimas know that she received his telepathic message earlier, but with a message of her own. Don’t worry Artimas, I won’t do the same to you… unless you ask. *evil laugh*

Eve drank her fill and released her bite, a small amount trickling from her lips. She gently ran her now dark crimson tongue over her lips, savoring his taste and removing the droplets that tried to escape their consumption. “Thank you Lemuel; quite divine. I had almost forgotten how sweet angelic blood tasted. Surely you haven’t let the memory of Master’s blood vanish from you?”

Eve removed her long black coat and sat it upon the bar. The black halter-top covered just enough of her milky white flesh to leave something for the imagination. She slowly lifted her arm to Lemuel, the bend of her elbow inches away from his lips. Rarely had she offered her blood freely because some of her Master’s blood flowed within her, but Lemuel was not just anyone. She knew of the friendship between Lemuel and Lucifer and knew that her Dark Lord would not disapprove.

Her arm still suspended in air; Eve’s eyes quickly darted to the human who just entered the bar. Not wanting to disrupt the exchange, she sent another message to Artimas. Find out who he is and why he is here. Something about that one bothers me. She sensed that another angelic soul was about, but was not sure where and with this new visitor to the bar dressed in white, she wondered if this was him.

The thought suddenly entered his mind and snapped Artimas to attention. He would have thought it was one of his own random thoughts but it was her voice inside his head. Not only was Eve able to receive his message but she was able to return one as well, and it sounded too much like an order for Artimas’ taste.

This bitch is definitely beginning to grate my nerves, arrogant cunt… I’m either gonna fuck her or kill her before this is over, maybe both…

The bar tender returned with a whisky and a pack of cigarettes, after quickly downing the drink Artimas lit a cig with a pack of matches that was lying on the bar and ordered two more double shots. “Thanks buddy, I guess you can put it on their tab”, he said nodding in the direction of the arm sucking freaks.

Artimas makes his way to the stranger with the odd-looking hat and bare feet. Holding out a glass he says “Nice feet, have one on me…”

Visions of past encounters with Eve flooded his mind as she began to drink his blood. Not all of them pleasant however, yet she was always a welcome sight to him, for of all the Archangels he alone did not completely turn his back on Lucifer after the Fall.
A cold shiver ran through his spine as he saw fleeting glimpses of past and future events. Father O'Malley screaming under the torture of the Nazi scientists. Lilith, mother of all vampires, locking him in her seductive embrace. A beautiful young scientist attempting the impossible. A gathering of demonic hunters. A nearly fatal battle with the Bodhisattva Maitreya. The legendary Shroud of Turin. A young man with his memory clouded and his thoughts incoherent. The Incarnation of God.
He snapped himself out of the trance and as his black eyes rose to look at Eve, he found himself gazing at her bare arm, the delectable flesh and the dark, sensual fluid flowing through her veins calling to him, tempting him to partake of her own life force as well.
He lowered his lips onto the inside of her elbow, lapped it with his snakelike tongue momentarily, and as his fangs distended, he began to kiss her there, and the sensation of her blood in his mouth began to intoxicate him with its sweetness.
Suddenly he stopped, and licked his lips clean. He gently clasped his arm around the crook of her elbow and allowed the wound to close off, then replied, haltingly, "I....have not forgotten, Eve. As much as I love my brother, and as grateful as I am for him saving my life, He would tempt me to join him in damnation. I can not do as he wants me to. I must walk a different path and discover my true - "
He realized another presence was in the bar. A powerful entity no doubt, but curiously indecipherable and quiet. So why does he feel threatened by this one, he asks himself?
Or perhaps...it is the one approaching them from the distance...

She had changed into her regular street clothes, a pair of denim jeans that had the usual hole in the knees to sport rebellion..She smirked to herself as she pulled on a loose t-shirt..If anything were to happen tonight..she didnt want to be noticed as easily..she wanted to blend in..
Looking out to the balcony and its cool burst of wind she sighed..
The thirst to kill the bitch thrived in her veins yet she knew it wouldnt be the wiset choice to make..and it would surely cost her her life.
"no..I shall bide my time..And than you shall pay.."she muttered before she left the apartment.
It was one of many that she owned. All over the streets of the city. Know one questioned her and no one would..She was just another street kid from some foriegn country, whos parents shipped them off with lots of cash in their pockets, hoping they'd get rich and send for them..
She stuffed her gloved hands deep into her pockets as she walked, her head bent to stare at the pavement, darting out of other peoples ways, occasionally bumping into someone and pickpocketing some cash here and there..
Hey..she had to make a living somehow..And this was the easiest way she knew..She had never been taught anything other than what she needed..Survival was her main goal in life. And if anyone choose to stand in her way..well, they'd surely pay the consequence as many others had before...

As she made her way down the many streets, she made sure to keep a close eye on her surroundings, always making sure who was around her..who was watching her as she walked..Wondering where she was heading..And than just as that thought fleeted into their mind..it vanished and they were left standing there with a glazed look on their faces almost..as if they had just shot up on the best drugs money could buy them..Speed, cocaine, heroine..you name it it was here in the city slums where she walked now..
She knew that she had to find this Eve..And that woman was definatly nearby..She could almost smell the inate hunger..the fire that burned inside the woman sent from Hell..
She smiled as she stopped across the street from the bar at a coffee shop.
She bought a small cappaciuno and sat down in one of the many black metal chairs and tables that were scattered around for customers.. Crossing her legs she balanced the styrafoam cup on her knee while she watched the bar and its front surroundings for anything..out of the ordinary..besides what was already there..

*He looked at the stranger who had just come to him, out of everyone in the bar he had been singled out. He thought about the offer, and then declined the drink with a simple hand gesture.
He looked down at his feet and then at the rest of the clientel, he wondered about the comment and then spoke.*

Yes they are nice aren't they?

*He went back to his drink and ignored the man, he didn't care for company and only came here for a quick drink before moving on to the next big city. He knew his destination, and didn't care*

Eve watched as Lemuel’s facial expression changed, as he became aware of the newcomer. “What is it Lemuel? Is he someone not to be taken lightly?” Eve had to contain the evil laughter that wished to explode from her lungs. Very rarely did she ever come across anyone or anything that she could not handle with ease.

Turning her attention to Artimas, Eve saw how easily he was dismissed and knew that one of two things was about to happen; Artimas would politely accept the decline or he was about to start a fight, something she did not want to deal with at the moment. She had questions that needed to be answered and wondered if Lemuel had any of them. Besides, she was also waiting for one more disciple who was scheduled to arrive soon.

Turning her attention back to Lemuel, Eve thought it a good idea to leave. “What do you think of a midnight stroll Lemuel to get reacquainted?” Eve stood from her barstool and carefully lifted the martini to her lips and took a sip, “Good, but a little dry for my taste,” she said and then winked at the barkeep, tossing him a fifty dollar bill. “Keep the change honey, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Eve picked up her coat and whirled it around and slipped into its warmth. The silky satin lining coolly caressed her lifeless body. “So, what do you say Lemuel? Spend the night with an old friend?”

There are only a few things that piss me off, and being dismissed like a bothersome child ranks near the top.

Artimas pours the drink in the strangers lap and says, “No… really… I insist you have one on me…”

Artimas flashes an evil little smirk, gives the stranger a “fuck you buddy, I want to kick your ass” kind of wink and walks away.

Lemuel eyes the ensuing interaction and restrains himself momentarily. He normally doesn't use his powers against human souls but if this gets ugly, he might have to intercede.
He's caught slightly off guard by Eve's soft voice beckoning him to go outside with her.
Talking about old times....an interesting turn of events, considering they were close to killing each other on many an occasion....

He stood up to his full height and turned his head slightly to look at her waiting for an answer. He licked his lips as he tasted the last of her blood, and smirked.

"Let's go then...I have a few things to tell you, however."

His long coat trails him like dark wings as he takes Eve's arm and escorts her outside. As they pass Artimas and the stranger, he begins to relay his encounter with the two vampiresses.

"There's a danger outside...someone, or some thing, has been slaying the Nightwalkers with impunity to the point where they're terrified to even be seen.

"Eve, I've hunted vampires for centuries...I've become their sworn enemy for what they did to Morrigan and to me. I wanted to destroy the whole lot of them, and my name was spoken of in hushed tones and whispers among the undead clans and packs....yet I have never seen two so seized with fear as those two women at the bar. There's a vampire Bogeyman....and it's not even me."

Eve listened as Lemuel began to talk of this "vampire killer" and didn't know whether to laugh or be concerned, seeing as how she was vampire herself. She had heard of Lemuel's killings, but this new guy must be fairly new, or at least knew how to keep a low profile because she had yet to hear of him and his quest.

As they neared the door, Eve looked at Artimas and sent him another message, beckoning him to follow. Come, you will meet this one again, I'm sure of it, but not is not the time to pick a fight. She smiled to the stranger as if she knew his fate, but was toying to keep it from him.

Turning her attention back to Lemuel, she spoke calmly, "This... killer. Does he have a name?" As they reached the door, it slowly opened and squeeked at the hinges from the weight. It became fully ajar as they walked through and out into the night air.

Eve took in a deep breath, but smelt something strange yet familiar on the air... blood. Someone had been killed and not too far from here. Her eyes surveyed the area and found something other than what she was expecting. What appeared to be a young girl sitting across the street watching, waiting. Ah, the other one that I have been waiting for. she thought to herself. My crew is now complete. Time to start training.

Not wanting to give Lemuel reason to ask why she was staring at the young girl, she turned to him and smiled faintly.

*sniff*
*sniff*

"Their mistake," Azeon whispered referring to the two vampires who were trying to make a stealthy exit out the back door, is to think that I would not find them". Regardless of the evil in the bar Azeon decided to remain ever faithful to his cause. Vampires, all of them, must die. And with that Azeon leapt from the rooftop to come to a near silent stop on the building next door to the bar.

Azeon caressed the silver hilt of his sword with his free hand as he made his way to the back of the building, from there he could see his prey. His black staff ever poised for work he peered over the edge to see two women. While most other creatures would see two intoxicated humans Azeon knew better. These were Nosferatu, vile creatures of the dark. And soon they would be purified by the wraith of the Lord Almighty.

They were below and the time to strike was upon him. Azeon leapt down, staff extended, as the vampires' only warning was the pale pulse of blue light from Azeon's deathly eyes. One of them, the blonde, hissed and screamed as the end of Azeon’s staff struck with brutal force to the back of her companion’s head. The victim fell to the ground while a steady flow of crimson blood flowed from the base of her now deformed skull. Marianne, the second vampire lowered her body and stance, allowing her a number of combative options. Her crouched stance spoke of experience, to some degree, however the mortified look frozen on her ivory face clearly showed her expectation. Azeon stood upright and leaned a bit on his staff in a show of mocking weakness. ”Who is in the bar?” Azeon asked in a cold and somber tone. ”I know there is someone in there of great importance and I want to know who,” he commanded. The young vampire meekly replied, ”I don’t know”. She shifted her weight; it was a modest attempt Azeon thought. Trying to look weak but in truth only positioning herself for her strike. ”There is no one in the bar who fits your description,” she pleaded as she lowered her head. Azeon assumed she wouldn’t be forthcoming but the attempt was made nonetheless, ”Then what should I do with you if there is no information you can give me?” Azeon mused as he turned, exposing his back to his enemy as he dropped to a knee and plunged a dagger into the heart of her fallen sister. Positioning himself so that she would strike. Marianne fell for the ploy and Azeon was all too ready.

The petite, blonde vampire shot forward in a lustful rage. Teeth bared and claws forward she charged, frantic in her one, calculated attack she was fighting for her life. The tears streaming out of her panic stricken face were lost on her assailant as he deftly turned and stood in plenty of time to stop this fearful child from doing any harm to him. Azeon grabbed her by the throat and hoisted her off the ground. ”Pathetic creature, gaze into my eyes and see that I am the Messenger of God. I am the being that will send you to your long overdue grave,” Azeon said in a crescendo that climaxed as he threw her, hard, into the wall. Azeon started moving toward her as Marianne, still conscious surprisingly, started backing down the ally between the bar and the building next door. This ally was narrow, very narrow. No more than the width of two people Azeon recognized the intelligence of his prey. In this alley his staff would be useless and he would need to resort to the use of his hands. Fine by him.

Marianne struggled to her feet, she knew she had no chance of defending herself against this Angel draped in black. The stories were true and now it was her turn to die. She resigned herself to death but looked upon her killer’s face and managed to speak her last words, ”Please, please dark Angel please”. Her words were lost as the bringer of judgment descended upon her.

Leaving both bodies in the narrow ally was the better decision Azeon thought as he picked up his staff and straightened himself. His nostrils were full from stench of Evil’s taint as this place was a haven for filth. Perhaps that is why when Azeon stepped out of the ally he came face to face with a rather unlikely and dangerous party…

She watched with interest as a beautiful woman walked out of the bar, arms linked with a mysterious man..If he was a man at all; she thought contiuning to watch them.
With a small smile she noted that the woman ws undoubtdly Eve.
No wonder..with such beauty comes the mask of something evil..she picked up her styrofoam cup and with a small nod of her head, one that wouldnt be noticed by many, only seen as a bend of the head to the cup she drank the hot coffee..
It felt refreshing as it went down her thoart, even more refreshing as she watched the small group bump into a new figure..a dark figure..
Slowly she put her coffe down on the small table beside her and focused her attention on the group..With the arrival of this new figure, she could smell the blood in the air..it was strong recent.
Looking around at the people on the street she wonderd if they noticed..and ofcourse they couldnt..There human bodies were incapable of smelling something that qucikly. They were unknown to the ongoing affairs across the street..Hell they only saw what they're mindless eyes let them see..

Once again she turned her attenion to the group..She could feel the anger gorwing between the two and sat back with another smile on her face waiting to see the outcome..

Artimas received the message with crystal clarity, “Come, you will meet this one again, I'm sure of it, but now is not the time to pick a fight” and for the second time got the feeling he was being commanded…

Artimas shot a message right back at Eve “Yes mistress, right away mistress, I’ll follow like a good little puppy, mistress” and followed on her heels… He hoped his sarcasm didn’t anger her too much but didn’t really care; taking orders was something he didn’t like dealing with…

It's nice getting out of the bar, it was beginning to feel cramped Artimas thought to himself just before noticing the man coming out of the alley. This night just keeps getting better, now there's a freak coming this way carrying a staff, maybe he wants to play!

Artimas, even though completely unarmed, save his fighting prowess and newfound gifts, began to walk towards the stranger...

*Mathew Anderson*

After sitting in the dark corner of the bar for the evening drinking my beer I decide the time has come and these people are among the ones I have been sent here to observe so upon their exit of the bar I decide to exit the rear of the bar in order to observe from afar what this group may be up to. I threw the bartender a twenty as I left the bar through the back door to mirror the movements of my quarry. As I sneak down the next narrow alley I discover the bodies of two women and my suspicions of something afoot have been confirmed.

Azeon leveled himself and held tightly his staff in both hands. His hood concealed his bone white skin and glowing blue eyes, at least to the human who was coming towards him. The human smelled evil, as evil as a human could anyway. The stench carried as well to the vampire temptress behind him.

She was on the arm of another...who seemed familiar. Azeon’s eyes flashed a brilliant blue as he looked upon this man, using his divine sense to see what he really was. It was unclear, he was an Angel, no, he was a Vampire...Azeon looked and puzzled but that introspective dialogue was cut short by the upstart headed his way. Azeon had no desire to dispatch human scum, not when there was another pretty vampire all ready to feel the fire of God's judgment.

”My fight is not with you human, my fight is with her and the rest of the hellspawn. I’m doing you a favor, she’s looking for dinner and you’re the main course,” Azeon said as he leveled his staff in front of him, providing a nice barrier before anyone could get closer.

Turning to the tall man with the similarly strange eyes Azeon said, ”I pray it is not you that I am here for, but now is not the time for talk”. His gaze shifted to Eve, the beautiful temptress and the quirked smile that showed she was enjoying the exchange, though Azeon could see the tremor of concern behind the facade. ”Would you like a drink? The blood of Angels is quite prized I hear and you would gain quite the reputation by killing me,” He said as he began inching his way back into the ally….

Eve looked up to Lemuel, the smile upon her lips was one so many had fallen to their graves for. “Pardon me Lemuel, it seems I need to handle this before we can leave.” Her eyelids closed slowly, showing her calm demeanor. Her arm slipped from Lemuel’s and she turned her eyes towards the man challenging her to a duel.

As Eve began walking towards this angelic creature, she gently placed a hand upon Artimas’s shoulder, encouraging him to stop. “This one’s mine,” she said in an over-confident tone, but she had every reason to be confident, she had yet to meet her match although Lemuel could easily be considered as such.

Eve followed him into the alley, her emerald green eyes flashing silver as she adjusted to the darkness. “What’s your name Angel? I always like to know the names of my victims.” The smell of the two other vampires filled the air and Eve’s teeth grew both out of excitement of the fight, but out of hunger as well.

Before the angel could answer, Eve quickly vanished into the air and landed softly behind Azeon. “This is going to be fun,” she whispered and then punched him on each side of his spine.

She was deceptively strong for her size. It was obvious to Azeon that she had greater power than those typical of her station. Satan must have increased her power, and why not? She is obviously doing something important for the Dark Master and he wishes for her to succeed. Of course, this realization comes at the tail end of a punch that hurt.

Azeon turned to face the deadly woman and pulled his staff up. Here, in the ally he couldn't use powerful swings but he could still keep her with it's long reaching pokes. This will enable a better view of her abilites which in turn will allow for a better attack.

Azeon thrust his staff forward and the blonde vampire hellspawn nimbly moved out of reach of the black stick. He could see her eyes darting for a weakness, looking for her moment to strike. Azeon wasn't about to let her attack while his back was to her escorts. Azeon pulled back just a little and said, "My name is the Beginning and the End. I am no victim but hunter. Remember child, it was I who came here for you". With that Azeon jumped high and did a slow, lazy somersault in the air. This would land him behind her, keeping his back from exposure and during the maneuver while inverted he let the staff slide, the very end, into his hands. Incredible reach and strength behind the blow he swung as he reached the height of his jump, the smooth wood made it's low hum as it saught to crack the head of the woman.

Eve could saw the attack coming but not soon enough, Azeon landed a glancing blow on her shoulder, one that was sure to sting.

Azeon landed softly on the concrete of the ally and stood. "But you were right about one thing, this will be fun," he said as he dropped his staff and lowered his hood. His glowing eyes pulsed, illuminating his pale skin as the smile on his lips quirked at the ends.

This creature obviously enjoyed the Hunt.

Eve winced as the staff connected with her shoulder blade, dropping it inches and closing her eyes. She could feel her smooth skin begin to whelp beneath the trench coat and thought it best to remove it. As she pulled the coat from her body, her senses stayed on guard, listening for any advances he made while her eyes remained closed. Before opening them again, she bit her lip piercing the tender flesh. The taste of her own blood ignited within her and her eyes popped open. A moan that could be mistaken as pleasure or pain escaped from her lips. “Nice move, Angel with no name, but you’re going to have to do more than that if you plan to kill me.” Eve looked at her shoulder, the bright red mark looked rather painful, but she knew that it would soon be healed and thought nothing more of it.

With that being said, Eve lunged at Azeon, teeth bared although she knew it would not phase him in the slightest unless he was not what he claimed to be. As she planted her feet to stand a couple of feet from him, the fight began. She didn’t know where to strike first, so she waited until he began swinging the damn staff of his, blocking it with her forearms and legs. Occasionally the blows would be hard enough to sting, but for the most part she was able to block out the pain. She waited until the opportune moment when he made a low swing and stomped on the fighting rod, snapping it in half. “Now let’s see what you’re made of without the stick, Angel with no name.”

Eve quickly jumped to the right, her feet landing on the side of the brick wall. She fell to her knees and hands, crawling like that of a spider on the damp wall. She quickly turned, her head looking down at Azeon waiting for her next chance to attack.

Well... will ya look at that; two gravity defying freaks going at it like a couple of pissed of pre-teens… And she had the nerve to hold me back. I would have killed the guy three times by now… His guard is weak and the staff had him at an obvious disadvantage in the small alleyway, of course she just fucked it all up by breaking it and making him come in close to attack… For someone who thinks so highly of herself she really doesn’t know how to read an opponent. If she would have just waited for the right off balanced thrust of the staff she could have countered by dropping to a knee and disemboweling the wannabe badass…

Artimas shakes his head and continues to watch the overdramatic scuffle. He wished one of them would kill the other, which didn’t matter much, he was beginning to grow bored.

I’ll be a good little lap dog and stand here and watch, maybe this eye glowing assclown will teach Eve a lesson in humility, God knows I’m dieing for the chance… Artimas laughs at the unintentional pun in his last thought.

Artimas sends eve a message… "Quit playing with this guy and finish him off or I’m gonna pick a fight with this Lemuel character just to pass the time…"

His staff was broken, the bitch actually broke it. Suprising considering that it was cured for nearly a year and made of the hardest oak. She was indeed more powerful than your average hellspawn. Fun indeed, aparently toying with this one had cost him one of his few possessions but killing her would make it all the sweeter.

The woman hung there on the wall smiling at him as he tossed aside his now useless weapon. Azeon figured he should follow suit and remove his robe as the flowing fabric would hinder his more complicated attacks which she had now earned. Azeon removed his robe revealing what lay underneath. He was rapped like a mummy, the cloth was old and grey from untold years of wear. His pants where a type of loose fitting skin also held together by the same wrapping but the interesting thing must have been his sword. In contrast to the rest of his appearance this object was clean and gleaming silver. The blade seemed shorter and the grip longer than any man-made sword. Azeon caressed the hilt as his robe dropped to the ground as he decided she wasn't worth tainting the beautiful blade. She could be ground to dust with his hands.

"I have a name vile creature. Know that your death will be at the hands of God's soldier. The name Azeon is the name that proclaims your death," Azeon spat as he hunched low and jumped with incredible speed. Eve was waiting for the attack and spun out of the way, dropping back down to the ground. She realized, however, that she had been hit. She looked at Azeon holding up a clawed hand that had a bit of fabric attached to it. She looked down to see her bleeding leg , four lines of red blood coming from the wound. Azeon smiled at the thought of the pulsing pain she must feel from a divine claw raking evil flesh. Azeon rushed towards her and Eve prepared herself for her own set of strikes.

To mortal onlookers it would have looked more like a dance than a fight. Each combatant blessed with speed and strength a human could only dream of. Azeon pressed her hard, but not with his sword or his most devastating moves, afterall, there were watchers and should they see the extent of his power they would undoubtedly be harder to find later.

His claws hit here and there but even the blocks, which were far more common, took their toll. Eve's forearms were crimson from the blood that flowed from her body. Her rage was apparent and amplified by each new spot on her body that was cut, regardless of the size. Her rage was beginning to show as she landed several ripping strikes of her own. The tattered cloth covering Azeon's body was ripped away as was a healthy portion of his flesh. He bled freely which only drove her onward. The backed away and stared at each other, wondering who would be the first to give, who's knees would fold first, for that person would die.

Azeon was looking for his window as he stared Eve down. This was not his ideal fighting ground. He needed space and distance for things. He questioned staying at all and simply following them, but where was that window without being too obvious...

Lemuel stood perplexed for a few seconds, watching Eve take on the angel one on one. He tried to restrain himself, knowing that this was not his fight, nor was he sure which side to take. Whilst he had no desire to see a fellow angel bested in battle against a darkling, he knew that Eve will not last much longer against an angel with all the powers of Heaven at his disposal....and one who intended to kill her outright.

He also realized that should Eve be destroyed this night, he would lose any chance he had of finding out what Lucifer had planned. His old friend was always up to something, on occasion dragging him into the midst of his plans.
And if the angel is slain, he might lose a chance to cure himself of his condition. A fallen angel with all his powers intact....might be the key.

There has been enough killing this night...and I need answers.

Turning to Artimas he uttered, "I believe you and I are both unwitting pieces in this puzzle, judging from the look in your eyes. If either one kills the other - we will both lose an opportunity to learn the answers we seek."

He took off his coat and unfurled his wings, and his eyes ablaze with blue light, ascended into the air and began to approach the combatants slowly, when he heard a familiar name.

Azeon?

It can't be. THE Azeon? Michael's own right hand? Fallen as he was?

If that is the case....

He observed both of them watching him, hovering in the air with his wings outstretched, keeping his distannce from them should he be forced to defend himself.

"There has been enough blood shed tonight...and there are questions I need answers to."

Well… So much for obeying orders.

Artimas watches as Lemuel takes flight and is more than a bit dumbstruck by what he sees... Great, now this guy is sprouting wings, what’s next, is someone going to start shooting fireballs from their ass? This night just keeps getting better and better…

With a shake of his head Artimas clears his thoughts and rushes headlong into the melee ahead of him, coming up short enough to place himself between Eve and the Mummy looking freak... With Eve to his back he looks to the fallen angel and says.

"How about trying some of this, tough guy?"
and with that he gives him a wink...

From where she sat across the street she watched all that happened..Though she could not see entirely into the darkened alleyway she could sense the movements of the two and watched with slight amusement as the angel and the vampiress fought.
Interesting little group this is..she thought sipping at her coffee once more. It had grown cold now and the taste just wasnt the same so she orderd another one.
She watched with hidden fascination as another angel spread his wings and flew to stop the two from anymore cat fighting..
Even she could tell that the two in the alley would either end up killing eachother at the same time..or they would never weaken.
Either way this game was getting boring to watch and she really didnt feel like making an entrance just yet..

Her new coffee came and she smiled, paid the small fee, stood and stretched her feline like body; looked both ways and jay walked across the street a few blocks away from the bar.

Stared up at the Angelic figure with his beautiful wings. His face was familiar, so familiar, but Azeon could not place it. Seeing another Angel nearly pulled Azeon out of the reality of his situation. The human was coming down the ally and he seemed very irate. Fortunately for Azeon this Fallen Angel was the window he was looking for.

Azeon dipped low and grabbed his robe as the human positioned himself in front of the vampire. ”Fool,” he thought, ”she will kill you the first chance she gets”.

”Know that you do not understand what you ask for human,” Azeon said, his eyes then locked on Eve, ”This is not over between us. It has only begun and when my claws choke the breath from your twisted form you will wish this night was your last”.

With his robe in hand Azeon jumped high and kicked off the building, jumping again and landing on the roof. He quickly swung his robe around him letting is settle gently on his shoulders in one fluid motion. He peered over the side to see the human and vampire, obviously irate at his desire to retreat. He smirked and waved goodbye to them. Though before he left he said to the flying Angel, ”I don’t know who you are Fallen one, but know that if you have crossed into that black abyss your history will not save you from me. I hunt evil in whatever form it takes, Angel or no”.

With that Azeon began to run, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, heading in the direction that the trio was originally headed, hoping that he could follow them should they pass below.

Eve let out a scream as she watched Azeon disappear from her grasp and into the night. "You're right Angel," she said in a mocking tone, calling him an angel, "it's not over between you and I. It has only fucking begun."

Turning around and regaining her composure, Eve licked the blood from her lips and then smiled to the two men who had come to her aide. "Thanks boys, but I could have handled him just fine." But the truth of the matter was she wasn't expecting him to have been as strong as he was.

"So? Shall we?" she asked as if nothing had happened. As she turned to walk away out of the alley, she caught a glimps of something moving in the shadows but dismissed it quickly as she sensed another one of Master's chosen near.

Eve sniffed the air and then looked out into the main street. "The other one is close, very close. We need to find him or her and then begin discussing what is to be done."

Eve shot a quick glance to Lemuel. "Are you going to be joining us or will you going after your friend Lemuel?" It was as if she was mocking but was tempting him with her alluring ways. She awaited his reply.

Hovering in the air, Lemuel watched the fading form of the angel Azeon vanish into the darkness beneath him.
He almost cursed himself for his carelessness. His continued foray into the Darkness has tempered his angelic powers to the point of near atrophy - he would not have been so impetuous so as to reveal himself so quickly to the other.

Lemuel grasped his amulet in his hand and pondered for a moment what to do. There was no doubt that Azeon was not tainted by evil...he still glowed with the fierce brightness that permeated an angel's aura. If he could learn the source of Azeon's success...he might be able to find a cure for his...disease....

And perhaps....return home to Heaven.

He was momentarily torn. Either he pursued Azeon to learn his secrets, or he stayed with Eve to learn hers.

Finally he made up his mind. Azeon now knew of their presence, and he would surely return to hunt and slay them all. Should he lose Eve, however, he may not be able to find her again.

He fluttered gently to the ground, his black eyes aglow with blue heavenly light.

"He is no consequence for the time being, Eve. But mark my word, he will be back for us. For he is none other than..."
He paused. Despite Azeon's pledge to destroy him, he could not bring himself to betray a fellow angel.
"...bah, never mind....we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, Eve....I am yours."

Eve nodded and turned to look for Artimas. "There was a girl sitting across the street when that over-sized bird stopped us. Did you happen to see where she went? We need to talk to her. I think she's the other one I've been waiting on so we can get this mission started."

Eve looked at Lemuel and smiled. "I could really use a hot bath and stiff drink. Do you know of a safe house around here?"