Daemon Scaroe: In The Belly Of The Beast

((I want to make a miniseries about the Elders called Dem Elders now...can I use/reference your characters if need be? (if I ever actually write it, that is, which is probably unlikely to actually happen) especially Zafira, since she's an elder and all...))

Lilia confirmed what Gale had said about Sierra being a hitwoman, but not her affiliations with Redbird or Njarik. Lilia had never heard of Redbird and she was pretty certain Njarik was in a prison in New Zealand. Gale came back almost instantly with research. "Redbird works with the Scottish Sanctuary with a man named Loki as her partner. They hunt for artefacts. Some of great power, some very dangerous to surrounding mortals, some just ancient history. I assume Sierra found out about one of these artefacts and has taken interest in it. Somewhere along the line Afton or Loki claimed it to be in Miss Scaroe's possession, and so Sierra brings together her little trio, minus Robyn Njarik, to get the artefact. Without Robyn, they need a new member, and so Lee brings Maxim here across, one of three brothers, the dominant of a set of triplets I believe. Anyway, the base of operations...You'll never believe this. It's the old Necromancy temple..."

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Sierra sighed. Daemon was sitting on an old disused bed, her lower lip sucked in under her top so that she could chew it. It looked retarded. "It's in your pocket, isn't it?"
She turned out her pockets. There were skittles and a paper clip and her phone. Daemon smiled. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Sierra."
"If you've planted it on any of your associates, they will each be killed and searched, one by one, unless you tell us who has it." She remained silent. "Belinda Diamond? Jack? Austin Baritone? Hadrian? Burn? Nightwish?..." She turned to Afton. "Kill Springheeled Jack." She turned back to Daemon and pulled off her shoe. She looked inside the shoe, pulled off the other one and frowned.
"Uh...if Jack definitely has it, what purpose does this solve?"
"Hey, I never said Jack definitely had it. I just said kill him."
"Oh..." She watched Sierra examine the shoes with no idea whatsoever as to what was going on.
"We lost our friend today."
"Not my fault. You were the ones who drove off without him."
"If you'd just come quietly when we'd first asked, we wouldn't be in this mess. But no, you had to get your fat friend to help fight us off."
Daemon narrowed her eyes and glared, but said nothing to Belinda's defence.
"Daemon, this artefact is dangerous. It will change you. Think of this as us trying to help you. And really, slipping it into Jack's pocket's gonna get him killed." A redhead girl appeared at the door. She spoke with a cockney accent.
"Sierra, don't'cha think we might be wasting our time a little?"
"Andeep...we're going after Springheeled Jack. Redbird might need a little help killing him. This thing...it will make him crazed. Guard Daemon."
Andeep Mallethands nodded and sat opposite Daemon as Sierra left.

-----

Memphis was up again. News had reached him of Mevolent's planned attack and he spent his day relaxing in his office, three loaded guns in the draw in his desk and more bullets beside them. River stayed in the room to make sure he didn't do himself a mischief. Under the knowledge of what would happen, she had instructed the babysitter to barricade the house in case of overspill. It was hard being a detective when you had to take it easy, so he was looking over his notes and clues for cases he had been on before his injury.

The first thing he heard of Mevolent's attack was a scream. He could hear the fighting, but the most prominent thing seemed to be a repetitive scream. He froze. After a minute or two, he shook his head, grabbed two of the three guns and threw one to River. She had never used a gun before, but it seemed simple enough. They kept the weapons firmly trained on the door and waited.

Melantha had just sort of crumpled in the corner with her hands hovering over her face. She was screaming. Amadeus stood over her, keeping the enemies at bay, but he was tired and his mind blocks kept missing people and he had to defend with his own body. It wasn't just Mel he was defending, either. He was defending as many people as he could (still only nine) and getting beaten up as he did so. Abandoning the psychic method, he threw his arms up to save his face from a fist covered in what looked like knuckledusters. He kicked out and his foot made contact and he vowed to get enough exercise to get some useful muscle. The other man raised an eyebrow as if to say 'was that it?' and swept his feet out from underneath him. Amadeus grunted as he hit the floor, his right arm taking the full force of the fall. The man loomed over him, but there was a gunshot and he stumbled back, bleeding.
"River!" Mel gasped, shocked. The Brazilian woman stood in the doorway of her husband's office, a gun firm in her grip. The Adept woman got up and joined her friend in the fold. Darkside moved to join them, but a shadow fell over him and a boot began to crush his chest. He found himself looking up the barrel of a shotgun and the man who owned the boot cocked the gun...

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This bit is set after the fight when Mev is back home and stuff

Polina Skromneyy waited for Mevolent to answer the Skype. He wasn't on often and normally she would choose a different method, but they had agreed for her to report back from this meeting with Warheit via Skype in the comfort of her own bedroom. As she waited for the response on the other end of the line, she heard something clatter downstairs. Somebody yelled at someone else. It was the TV, of course. She had left it on while watching a Russian Soap. There was a beat where she began to think whether it had sounded too real to be on the television, but she dismissed it as paranoia as Mevolent picked up.
"Polina. How did the meeting go?"
"It went well, m'lord."
"I do hope you didn't attend dressed as you are now."
She looked down at her Minnie Mouse undies. "Well, I had a dress over the top..."
"What was the meeting about? Who else was there?"
"Well, it-" She stopped as the long, yellow, razor-sharp claw came to rest just below her Adam's apple.
"You really want to say another word on this matter, Yulianna?" Mihai Viscol asked in Russian.
"M'lord, you'll have to excuse me for just a moment." She reached round to jab a knife at Viscol's throat, dodging back to avoid getting her throat cut. Viscol grabbed her wrist and stabbed down. She twisted away painfully and transferred the knife to her other hand, jabbing out only for Santa Clause to grab her other wrist. She pushed off from the bed, flipping and catching Santa in the jaw with her foot. The fat man released her wrist and stumbled back, but Viscol knew her fighting style and had dodged, twisting her left arm so hard it felt she would pull it out of place as her feet made contact with the wall. She pushed off the other way, untwisting her arm and landing upright in front of Viscol. She twisted into him and he took the bait, wrapping his arm around her neck. Whenever he did that to someone, his thumb rested by their lips. She caught it and bit down. Hard. He cried out and pulled his hand away. She swung her head and foot back at the same time. Her hands gripped his shirt and trouser braces as he released her with a howl and tried to move back, give himself room. She flipped him over her hip and into her chest of drawers. A pitying wince was spared and she turned back to the computer. Fatal mistake one. She had forgotten that Mihai had not come alone.

Santa kneed her in the small of the back and she went crashing into the computer. Ouch. Mihai had his legs wrapped around hers by the time she had stopped thinking about the pain in her chest and had tried getting up. She fell forward onto the computer again, half turned and sent a blast of light at the Scandinavian mage, who teleported out of sight. Instead, she turned her attention to Viscol, pushing off the bed and slamming her forehead into his. He howled in pain again and she shrieked, fell back and kicked him in the chest and groin. She backed off and got to her feet, grabbing a sword off the wall and unsheathing it. Viscol got to one knee, wheezing a little, cocked his head curiously and clicked his claw-like nails together.
"Where's your friend?" She asked tauntingly. He grinned.
"He is not here to kill you, simply to bring me here to do the deed myself."
"Why, for dumping you?"
"No, not at all. More..." He paused, edged over to the laptop and smashed his claws through it over and over. "Now that Mr Mevolent cannot hear us, I'm here to kill you for the threat you hold over Russia, Romania...the Sanctuaries and world in general..." He forced himself to his feet.
"Hands on the ground, Mihai."
"You are in no position to give orders."
The sword was very large and Polina could easily wield it. She swiped and stepped forward and Viscol was only just able to avoid the blade.
"Hands on the floor or else I aim for your neck."
"As you wish." Suddenly he grinned and placed his palms flat on the floor. Ice began to spread from his palms, across the floor, freezing everything on it gradually. Polina was discovering a new reason he was called Blizzard.
"Cut it out!" She swung the blade again, cutting so deep into his arm she could have severed it. As it was, it rebounded slightly on the bone, sort of stuck in there and she lost grip of it as he howled and screamed and tried to remove it in the least painful way he could. Panting slightly, Polina stepped forward and splayed her palm in front of his face. "Any last words, Mihai?"
"Yes...Yulianna?"
"...Yes?"
He swiped his good arm up and his nail sheared through her wrist like a knife in hot butter. She screamed, stumbled back and kneed him in the chin. He grimaced as blood filled his mouth. He hated biting his tongue. His teeth were so sharp...
The Russian woman was screaming and flailing about. "Get a damn tourniquet!" He yelled despite himself. Rolling his eyes as she continued to scream, he grabbed her bed sheets, forced her against the wall and tied the sheet over her arm so that it stopped bleeding. "Bleeding to death is so messy and graceless." He hissed, holding his claw to her throat once more. Santa teleported back beside them, looked at all the blood and hit Skromnyy over the head with a jack-in-the-box. She fell unconscious in Viscol's arms.

((Happy Monday, guys!))