Annie found herself in another pair of arms and had to clench her teeth to prevent a string of obscenities from leaving her lips. She was tired of being carried around like a useless piece of inconvenience. She tried to struggle out of the woman's grasp, but the resulting pounding ache in her hip was enough to keep her reined in. That damn table, she grumbled. Apparently it was made entirely out of sharp angles, sticking out just to hurt her. So, even if it grated her, she allowed the woman to carry her outside. Mostly because she knew she would slow them down if she insisted, and that wouldn't help them find Vito.

"That idiot must have been taken by the Magisters," Villain, or whatever his name was, said, looking at the brown haired woman while excluding her completely. She wasn't surprised. His impression of her must be rather strange based on what they had seen of each other so far. She continuously tried to get his attention, and she even used some of her old tricks, but so far it wasn't working.

"Attention from the Magisters, nicely done!" the woman said in a weird voice. It was like a man's, and taunting, very taunting.

"They must have seen his eyes, and then it wouldn't have helped his case if he passed out and started to talk of his visions," Villain said, clearly agitated.

He still only spoke to the woman, and it pissed her off. Why couldn't he speak to her? Was that too much to ask? She felt a lump growing in her stomach, she hated being ignored.

"Well then, I'm not one to judge, but perhaps he's safer with the Magisters than out here with you," the woman replied. Villain didn't respond to that which caused a wide grin to spread across her face. She didn't like the woman, and she didn't want Villain to like her either.

"Where do we put the girl?" the woman continued.

Annie almost exploded at the words, and would have if not for the fact that she would seem childish if she did. Now was not the time to throw a tantrum, irrespective of how angry she was.

"I would like to come with you, but my hip will slow us down. I'll stay here if you put me down," she tried to keep her voice even, hiding her anger. Her words were met with surprised stares, as if they noticed her for real this time.

"You're injured?"

Villain's question wasn't said with any particular feeling, more like a statement. That hurt even more: that he didn't seem to care.

"Nothing life threatening, I can assure you. Now go and get Vito back!"

She glared at the Nyx, getting impatient with his attitude, and more than a little hurt that he chose to disregard her completely. He didn't glare back. Damn, she thought that she at least had a chance of producing some kind of response in him, but no.

The other two didn't say anything in return. The woman just put her down, and then they disappeared unbelievably fast. She hadn't felt so frustrated, or angry, in a long time. This was not at all what she had imagined when he had carried her away from her old life. In fact, she had dreamt of something different as she had lain in his arms.

-----

Milo couldn't relax. Vigilante's presence was disturbing, uncomfortable. He didn't trust her to keep her word, or rather, they had not defined what later meant. He was also reacting to her in other ways, which was the main reason for the unease that festered in his stomach. However, his objective was to locate Qumo, which meant that he had to find this white eyed young man and possibly save him from the Magisters. It was more than enough complications, with or without her presence.

"I suggest we wait until finding this friend of yours before we resume what we started."

He was startled to hear her real voice. He looked her way but saw nothing in her expression that made him trust her.

"Why don't you just leave me to it then? You have no reason to become involved."

She smiled crookedly in response.

"I have to assure that my target remains alive so that I can claim to have done the execution myself."

He was a little surprised at her words. He would have reasoned in the exact same way if their positions had been reversed. He wondered, not for the first time, how he had been unaware of her existence. In this business it was imperative to keep track of other practitioners, especially the skilled ones.

"Then stay out of my way," he replied.

He wished her miles away, but there was no time to argue and he didn't want to kill her just because she was annoying. He didn't work that way. He saw her smile, but there was no sign indicating if she planned to follow his orders or not.

They proceeded to search the village for a likely location for a Magisters' office. It didn't take long as the village was small. Once in front of the only decent looking building in the entire village, Milo walked inside, unconcerned by the fact that he didn't have any plan. Improvisation usually worked a treat. However, the low hiss coming from behind indicated that his companion wasn't impressed, which made him grin. He would show her.

The room they entered was small but packed with things to make it look impressive. A large hand-woven carpet covered the entire floor and the walls were littered with paintings of former High Magisters. The golden frames around those disapproving faces gave the room such a weird appearance that it took him a second before he noticed the pale man sitting behind an oversized desk, sneering at his visitors.

"A Nyx, not very welcome, are you?"

Milo only stared back at the man, his patience with people reaching an all-time low.

"I'm looking for a friend," he said, trying his best to sound nonthreatening despite the urge to rip the man's head off.

"If you're looking for a friend, I'm guessing it's one we have in our cells, and in that case you're not going to see him again. Now get lost!"

The patronizing tone flared Milo's irritation to new heights. The man didn't seem to register any of it, completely unaware that his life was very close to approach its end. Instead he saw the man move his eyes away from him, staring at something to his left.

"You should beware. You're not talking to just any Nyx'gaian. You've heard the rumors..." Vigilante's voice almost sang from behind him, seductive, persuasive. He saw the reaction in the man's eyes. His hunger for her, and then realization. The pale face lost all remaining color, and although it seemed as if he wanted to look away, the man stared at him in disbelief and fear.

Milo rolled his eyes in exasperation. She wasn't supposed to do anything, and her help was very much unwanted.

"Show us to the white eyed man," he said, trying his best to encourage the man's fear, using the threat of thunder he had in his voice. The response was immediate this time. The man jumped up from his seat and backed away into a badly lit corridor. They followed him, but kept their distance. A few doors down the man pointed his finger, looked at them once more and ran away on wobbly legs.

He didn't get far: a second later his legs were tied up by a thrown snare. No, two thrown snares. Milo sighed but bit down the curses that rang in his mind. He walked over and tied the man up further, silencing the audible protests with a gag. He listened for movements, indications of discovery, but nothing came, no one came.

Vigilante stood outside the door the man had pointed towards. She held up five fingers. So, there were five of them in there. He went over and let out all his frustration on that door, kicking it off its hinges in one go. The four Magisters on the other side immediately assessed the situation and quickly drew their weapons. They were highly trained keepers of the law, hands of the Council. However, they were no match for a Nyx assassin, especially not when this assassin was helped by another almost equally skilled one, or perhaps equally skilled. Milo didn't want to consider that.

Milo used his daggers, aiming for efficiency rather than his usual style of perfectionism. He sent one dagger flying, hitting a Magister's bared throat, blood sprouting from the wound. Closing in on his second victim, he pushed the dagger into the side of her neck one vicious movement. He heard two other bodies hit the floor and realized that Vigilante hadn't been idle. He turned around, glaring at her.

"You've got something on your face," she said, mirth playing in her eyes as she pointed at her own cheek, indicating the spot. He wiped the blood away and scowled.

-----

Vito had barely registered the door breaking before the room was quiet again. The ferocious fighting had taken the Magisters completely by surprise, but he was still amazed at the skill the two attackers showed while taking down the men and women effortlessly. He supposed that he should have become frightened, but the shock held that away until he could see who was standing next to him. Villain and the woman he had dreamt of. Them together, in this moment, was almost too much. He heard her say something and but he didn't catch it. It was indeed too much and he passed out.

Vito registered a slap on his face, the tingling sensation across his cheek bringing him back to the surface. He looked up and was blinded by an unrelenting sun. His eyes slowly adjusted and he could make out the two fighters. He knew from his vision that they were fighters, and based on their form of rescue they were skilled ones. Possibly equally skilled, he had seen them kill each other, both dying from their wounds.

"If you fight, you're both going to die."

He couldn't read their reactions. They didn't even look at each other. Instead they looked at him, their eyes showing the exact same emotion.

"What makes you so sure?" the Nyx asked, disbelieving, and why would he not? Vito couldn't explain it, but he felt it with certainty after having seen the events play out in his mind.

"You will die of a wound to the back of your neck, while she will die as your knife pierces her chest beneath her arm."

He could see them thinking now, their eyes distant, their eyebrows pinched together in a frown. Then something happened. Both of them stiffened.

"I'm not quitting my mission!" the woman said and began her attack. Vito watched in desperation as their fight swam before his eyes, their movements so fluid and fast that he couldn't even try to follow. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't interfere without risking his own life.

The clangs of metal rang in the air, almost like a song. Then all of a sudden they stopped, their dance halted and Vito realized why. They were holding their weapons in the exact posture that Vito had seen in his vision. Blood trailed from the slice on the Nyx's neck. Hers was hidden beneath clothes, but he could guess. The fighters stared at each other and then they both stepped back, touching their respective wounds.