The Crow: Unforeseen Duet (Alvis Alendran & darkangel76)

He was late. Aleena Boyd looked up at the digital clock blaring and blazing against the dark expanse of wall and began to drum her fingers against the table. Her red-painted nails clicked against the glass in a steady rhythm as her impatience grew worse and worse. If only her own schedule wouldn't be affected by this bastard's! But unfortunately, it would be and it would mean she'd be late to her own two month anniversary dinner. She thought about her boyfriend and how he'd been looking forward to things that evening. It hadn't been easy telling him she needed to take care of something first and what was more, that it entailed business at one of her father's establishments—Lady Lucy's. Her green eyes glanced around, taking in everything.

Oh how Aleena hated this place in particular. It made her stomach roil and her eyes rolled as the name of the place danced around inside her head. Stupid name! In one of the archways, she saw a dark silhouette, clearly male. He seemed to nod her way knowingly. In another corner, near a door that led to where she could only guess, she saw another man. His body was triple the size of her own. What he had lurking underneath his coat, she didn't want to know, but she had a good idea. Yeah, like always, her father's people were everywhere—never a moment alone and always someone at your back.

Aleena sighed, her green eyes fixating on the clock once again. Just when was he supposed to get here? The anonymous note she'd left him had specifically said to meet at Lady Lucy's at 6pm. It was now 6:10pm and she had to meet her boyfriend at 7pm. This was so not going to go over well! She shifted in her seat, crossing one smooth and slender leg over the other. Her black stockings hugged her legs, accentuating her curves as she settled back in her seat. She moved one hand into her lap and worried the hem of her black dress, the thin fabric like a second skin as it molded her to her nearly flawless body. She was the picture of elegant perfection as she waited, her flaming red hair neatly coiffed while a few wild tendrils managed to escape the updo she'd managed to create atop her head. But her patience was wearing thin, however. And she could feel the anger seething in her veins.

6:11pm. Aleena grit her teeth as she watched the blue neon numbers of the clock change. This bastard thought he was something all right. Such fucking arrogance! She opened her purse and fumbled through it. Opening up a compact mirror, she reapplied some red lipstick. She pressed her lips together and put the lipstick and mirror away. Setting down her purse, she straightened herself out and wondered how in the hell such a man could keep a lady waiting? On edge, she felt her muscles tense. Dark thoughts swam through her head. This wasn't going to end well. She knew it in her gut, could sense it. But she wouldn't let it dampen her night or her dreams.

Lucy's. It had to be Lucy's. Ben Kelvis looked at the front of the establishment carefully. he really hated this place, he knew what kind of reputation it had, and he was inclined to think that it was probably not doing it proper justice. This wasn't a good idea, coming here. He knew what he'd been digging into was liable to land him in trouble if he wasn't careful. But if he was getting notes like this, then he was going to have to risk it sooner or later. He couldn't hide. And the note had insinuated that he might find this to his advantage. It sounded fishy to him, but he had to know. And nothing ventured nothing gained. He checked the pistol hanging from the shoulder rig that he wore, and found it reassuring. Not a good sign.

Ben swung out of his old Lincoln. It was a beast of a thing, all classic lines and proper steel, none of that new fiberglass or composite. He adjusted his jacket, and started towards the door. The place was a little gaudy for his tastes. A lot of glass went into the place, making a place that seemed more open that it actually was. He tracked his eyes around, picking out a few figures. The place was not well populated, which was odd really. The place normally did a swift and steady business. He spotted a face he knew from a few pictures he'd seen over the last few months. And that set off a few alarms in his mind. He checked his watch, knowing that he did have some backup coming, but it was going to be running behind. He moved through the glass walls, reaching an opening that led to the woman at a table, looking irritated. If this wasn't his contact, he'd eat his hat.

"Miss Boyd." he said in a flat tone, not taking a seat, just standing in the doorway, eyes picking what what he could. There were any number of people around, but it could be completely benign. Or it could be absolutely not. "I assume you're the one that wanted to talk to me?" He shifted his stance slightly, his nerves on fire. Every instinct he possessed screamed that he shoudl be somewhere else. But he had to know.

Aleena looked at the clock as it changed to 6:12pm. She let out a groan, her legs uncrossing only to do so again. She was agitated, annoyed. Angry. The dark silhouette took a step forward causing a chill to run along her skin leaving goose bumps in its wake. She shivered and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Her green eyes narrowed into slits, like a snake honing in on its prey. Sitting up straighter, she rested her palms against the glass table top and tried to deter herself from focusing on the fact that they were just beginning to sweat. She took a deep breath and then another.

"Ben," Aleena stated, her face the picture of calm. As her luminous eyes stared into his, she gave him a defiant look—one that dared him to comment on her refusal to maintain formalities. "I see you got my note," she continued and then gestured he take a seat. "Please, sit down." She smiled at him, her full red lips promising things without speaking. "I promise I don't bite." She lifted one hand away from the table and began twisting a fiery curl that framed her angelic face. "Unless you're into that."

Aleena winked as she again gestured that Ben take a seat. As it was, the bastard of a man was already well behind schedule. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd be late now and that could very well muck everything up! Everything! Smiling, she inwardly scowled, wishing she could just pounce on Ben and claw out his eyes. But that wouldn't do her or anyone any good. Least of all...her father.

"I hope you don't mind meeting at Lady Lucy's," Aleena drawled. As she said the establishment's name she wanted to vomit right then and there. Why her father had chosen that name for the place she'd never understand it. Perhaps something like Alli's Allure would've been better? Ugh...what did it matter! She knew she was being petty, but she couldn't help it. Just everything about the place made her seethe. "The food here is delightful and..." her voice trailed slightly. "There's fine entertainment as well."

Aleena's eyes locked right onto Ben's. She knew exactly what kind of places her father ran—Lady Lucy's was no exception, even if it was his smallest establishment. And the man spared nothing when it came to the entertainment he provided. Of course, it all came at a cost and was perfectly legal, but such dealings were made behind closed doors. No need to discuss it in the public eye. As she looked at Ben, she knew what he was after. That greedy son of a bitch had been stalking her father and his men for days. He wanted to be tipped off, to know what exactly the old man had planned.

As Aleena sized up Ben, she couldn't get over the striking resemblance. Both he and her father had that same bloody ambition. It was a pity in some ways. One sought power, money and infamy while the other sought truth. But at what cost? With truth came knowledge and with that knowledge came power. She'd learned that years ago. Glancing past Ben, her eyes briefly connected to those belonging to the man in the coat.

"So, are you going to sit or are you going to leave a lady waiting?" Aleena asked, her expression coy as she licked her lips, body tense and ready to strike.

She was playing. Not for fun, to be certain. She was playing for keeps to be damn sure. You didn't bring someone out like this if you weren't ready to play hardball. Weighing his options, he knew he'd have to give a little if he expected to get anything out of this. But he was a professional, and he ahd a certain amount of pride in his job. He turned down little fringe benefitsd like she might be offering. They tended to have strings attached that caused more problems then they were worth.

He sat down.

"Thanks for the offer, but I've eaten. And I know you're a busy woman, with places to be. We don't want to keep Jacob waiting, now do we?" He smiled as he spoke his brother's name, making it clear he knew where she was supposed to be. It wasn't malice that kept him away from the place. He had to be sure there was no immediate threat to his existence waiting for him inside. Casing the place had been needed. But now that he was in, he knew she was not happy. Not a woman used to being kept waiting. A little too used to things being made to suit her whims this one. It was a fine line to walk really, keeping her annoyed enough to be a little off balance, but not so much that she shut down and made things harder.

"You asked to talk to me, so here we are. I've got my suspicions as to why I'm here, but why don't you enlighten me as to why I've been invited here? And so urgently no less?" Ben asked, leaning forward a little, his forearms resting on the table. He kept his face neutral, not wanting to taunt or spook her.

At the mention of Jacob's name, Aleena's spine stiffened, her muscles tensed. But, on the surface, she was collected calm. A soft chuckle escaped her as she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs under the table, her smooth stockinged legs gliding against each other. She leaned forward, green eyes hard and calculating. So this was how he was going to play, was it? Of course it was. Why would she expect any different. Ben Kelvis. The name was acidic as she felt the words play on her tongue, though she refused to speak in that moment. She looked at him, her full red lips curved upward in a small yet playful smile.

"Oh, aren't you the funny one," Aleena stated. Her mind seethed at how Ben had the audacity to bring up Jacob at a time like this. She dared a glance at the digital monstrosity on the wall—6:25pm. "You know exactly why you're here." She straightened a little, a tiny sigh passing over parted lips. She was sheer elegance, one not to be trifled with. Ever. "So I say you stop acting coy and drop the act." Her smile broadened.

From the corner of her eye, Aleena noticed a small shift in the shadows. Had the man standing there begun to move closer? He must have. She could clearly make out his profile now—all chiseled muscle and man. A small ache began to burn deep inside as her eyes found his. Unable to hold his gaze, she looked away, her eyes finding Ben.

Leaning back, Aleena resisted the urge to claw at Ben's face. Instead, she inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. Now wasn't the time to let her anger boil over. Others were depending on her. Her father, especially. Feeling a bit more focused she leaned forward once again. Just then, a waiter stood by their table and set down some wine glasses. He was holding a bottle of pinot noir and began to pour without being asked. Aleena just nodded at the waiter. Clearly the drinks were on the house, courtesy of her father and his staff.

"Look, Ben," Aleena hissed as she delicately took a hold of her glass and sipped some of the red liquid. "I know you have it." Carefully, she set her glass back down on the table with a clink of glass on glass. Her eyes were like emerald chips glinting in the light. "It's on you now. Isn't it?" she stated more than asked. Narrowing her eyes, her lips pursed into a smug smirk. "You have no idea what you're playing at."

Another movement of shadow and Aleena felt her skin heat up, goose bumps on porcelain pale flesh. There was no turning back now. This was for her family!

Ben smiled as he caught the tension that appeared on her when she heard Jacob's name. She was a fine player of the game, that much was for certain, but she wasn't perfect, no one was, and everyone had a button that could be pressed.
"Oh, I'll drop the act, right after you. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me, with this kind of show that you're doing." He fell silent when the waiter came by, pouring the wine. He needed to maintain some level of trust here, so he rached for a glass. Still, reaching for the farthest glass showed that he was still not giving her the benefit of any kind of real trust. They were here for one reason, and he wanted that over with.

He leaned back as she made the challenge of his having it on him, and he nodded.
"I surely do. One copy of it anyway. What, you didn't think I'd put all my eggs into one basket, did you?" He asked her with a smirk of his own. "But you did, didn't you? You underestimate me Miss Boyd. I'm not quite as stupid as you want me to be." He raised his glass slightly in a toast.

Jacob pulled the car into a parking space. He checked his phone again, making sure that he had read his messages properly. One from Aleena, she had a stop to make, she'd be at Lucy's for a few moments. And then shortly after, one from Ben saying that his brother was going to be at the same place, and wouldn't he please come by, since there was something important to be discussed. There was a level of concern to this situation. Was there something happening with his borther and girlfriend that he didn't know about? he highly doubted it was anything that he was thinking, but a man wondered about thigns like this. Were they both trying to get him in one place to break some kind of bad news? And why tonight of all nights? He put those thoughts to bed, and got out of the car.

He crossed the street, not slowing down as he passed the door, and entered the place. All of the glass let him look around very easily, catching sight of Aleena first, that hair was like a flare going off. She'd dressed to impress for tonight, if the outfit had been for him. He quickly moved through the room to reach the opening that led to the pair.
"Ben? Aleena? What's going on?" He asked.
"Jake, thanks for coming. That case I was working on with you? ALeena has some information on it that can help out a lot, thought you should be here for that." He said with a smile. It was a layer of insurance. if she wanted to keep Jacob around, she'd have to play ball.

Aleena's head was swimming, her vision barely blurring to red—and it was hardly a result of the wine she'd just drunk. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be able to just let loose. For once! In the shadows, near the archway, she saw movement and her jaw twitched. Looking into Ben's eyes, she refused to let him get the better of her. No. He was on her turf, among her people. The one calling the shots was not going to be him. She stared into his eyes, searching for something...anything. They were nothing like Jacob's, so full of passion and life. Ben's were full of something else entirely.

And she didn't like what she saw.

With a cool shake of her head, red tendrils swishing about her face, Aleena could still taste the wine on her tongue. The fragrant notes of vanilla and citrus lingering in her mouth as she eyed the abhorrent man and desperately coveted the secrets she knew he held. If only that bastard would make this easy! But he wouldn't. His eyes said as much. Fucking asshole! She watched him set his glass down, her green eyes unblinking. Just then there was a slight shift in the air and a breeze wafted in, gently caressing her skin.

Aleena caught the look from the man standing the archway, the ache she felt inside growing more and more. She bit down on her lip and suddenly found herself face to face with...

"Jacob?" Aleena whispered, trying not to sound too stunned. She glanced at Ben, the ass knew what he was doing. He was proving a point. She'd gotten in over her head. Her eyes looked back to Jacob and then past him at the man at the door. The brute took a step forward, his lips splitting into a vicious grin causing her heart to race, her breath to quicken.

Suddenly, the man from the shadows stepped forward, his hands coming up, his face still concealed. He rained bullets into the room causing patrons to scream, to run! It was a mess...a riot of bodies as they rushed to get away. But they weren't the target, his sights set on something else...someone else. Glass shattered as the bullets rushed through the room. Aleena covered her ears and let out a shrill scream. She turned toward Jacob, her green eyes meeting his when suddenly she felt the impact.

"I..." Aleena stammered, her body feeling like it had been run over by a truck. Slumping in her seat, her body crumpled and slid to the floor beneath the glass table.

From the doorway the large man stomped forward and threw off his trenchcoat. In his hands he held a flamethrower. Laughing, he began to create large flames like some devil demon. The man in the shadows just nodded, his reign of terror just beginning in Lady Lucy's.

Ben was opening his mouth to say a little more when a riot fo sound and fury filled the air. Gunshots. Gods, what the hell was going on here? He watched Aleena crumle, and flipped the table up, putting it between him and the shooter, his hand already ripping the pistol from the holster. He saw Jacob beginning to move as though to rush to either his side or Aleena's. Ben wasn't having that. he kicked the chair he'd vacated into the door. The heavy glass swung closed, clicking as it slammed home. He closed his eyes. Okay. So he'd saved his brother. But pinned himself down in here. Looking over the table as a few rounds chewed into the wood, he noted the other man. Ben's eyes went wide. Flamethrower? Was the man out of his mind? As flames licked intot he room, he got his answer.

The temperature was spiking into drastically uncomfortable ranges, and Ben dropped out of cover to fire his weapon. Two rounds hit the wooden wall beside the fire-bug, while the third his the hose connecting the weapon to it's fuel. Insane or not, the man knew he was in trouble, adn hit a release on the harness keeping the tanks on his back. He tossed them inot the room, fuel spraying wildly, and Ben crouched back. he felt a bullet break through the table, and rip into his arm. He swore, right before a concussive whump filled the air, shoving him back, the table flying clear. A curtain of liquid fire dropped onto him.

Jacob stagger back as the door swung shut, cutting him off. When he saw Aleena going down, and Ben firing at the other men, he grabbed a chair and swung it at the glass with all his strength. The chair came apart against the thick glass, defeated uttery by the inches of hard material. Jacob wrenched on the door, trying to get it open as he saw Ben go down under the flames that now filled the room. Ben rolled, trying to get some reprieve, but the floor around him burned as well as he did. He rolled up to the glass, his hands pressed to the glass, staring at Jacob through it.
"Ben! Ben, Gods no!" Jacob hammered his fists into the glass, while Ben just stared. No sound came from Ben now, his nerves too far gone to really feel what was happening to him anymore. Jacob hammered intot he glass again, desperation and raw emotion in his actions, grabbing another chair, and hammering it home, only to have the same results. Ben put his hand to the glass, fingers crooked into a shape. Jacob, eyes pouring tears, came close to it to look. Ben managed to shift his hand again, showing a differnt sign. Then he slouched back, dead or unconcious, it didn't matter now. Jacob left his hands against the glass, his own palm crisping from the heat. he let himself fall back, turning around only to see three more men looking at him, weapons pointed. Jacob didn't move, he only waited. There was a balst of thunder, the swift feeling of a few impacts, then he felt a wave of darkenss envelop him.

Heat...thunder...the pain was unbearable. Each breath hurt, like needles pricking flesh over and over again. Laughter rang out—shrill and high—bouncing off the walls as the sound of glass exploded everywhere. Red...oozing—a puddle on the floor, scorching with golden fire. Sweat dripped over skin as it melted on bone turning it to ash...

"Ahhh!!!" she screamed, sitting upright in her bed, hands gripping the blankets too tightly as they twisted about her petite body. Lucinda Boyd whimpered in the darkness, her teeth chattering as her skin glistened with sweat. She'd had the dream again. For the past two days it had been the same.

Fire...bullets...glass...

It was unnerving and made her stomach clench. Every image was more than vivid. And the horrors...the first time she'd woken from the dreams, she'd gotten sick. Lucy sat there on her bed, a hand moving through her flaming curls. Oh god...she could see his face plain as day—those eyes, that mouth. She shivered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. Just why was she having these nightmares? What did they mean?

Lucy turned toward her nightstand, a picture resting against the old wood etched with the marks of time and wear. She frowned and reached for it, a porcelain pale arm donning a tattoo—a delicate vine of morning glories—moving over a small clock to get at it. Letting out a soft sigh, she pursed her lips and stared at the picture. It was of herself and her sister...the two girls totally identical, though it was clear who was who. Lucy with her tattoos and relaxed demeanor, her red curls wild and free much like her personality. And then there was her sister—perfectly coiffed and finely dressed. But the two had always been close.

Until...

Lucy closed her eyes, remembering back to the days when she and her twin had been almost inseparable. But their father had changed that, driving a wedge between them until they barely talked any longer. Sure, they celebrated their birthday together. It was hard not to. But the nightly conversations, the sharing of secrets...those had become something of the past, something long forgotten. She sniffled, realizing she didn't even know who her sister's boyfriend even was. Nothing. She knew nothing anymore. And it had been ages since she'd heard word from anyone in her family, even her father.

Not that she minded that. Her father was a cold-hearted bastard.

With a frown, Lucy set the picture back on her nightstand, her thoughts going back to her dream. She managed to extract herself from the sheets and walked over to her window, pushing it up and looking out into the night. The moon shone brightly overhead, the silvery rays causing her green eyes to glitter in its soft light. She looked like an ethereal being, moonbeam and shadow dancing over her body draped in a thin white strappy nightgown. Resting her hands on the windowsill, she took in a deep breath. Her thoughts lingered on the face she saw in her dreams.

Who was he?

Lucy's heart suddenly sped up.

And why did she feel this pull?

Sergeant Ike Tramen sighed as he rubbed his face.
"Hey Ike, what's the good word?" Another officer asked as they walked past him.
"There aren't any good words. I've got Lucy's shoot out to figure out." Ike bit back. THe other officer winced.
"That cluster-fuck? Any kind of leads?"
"It's been a week, and there is not a damn thing. Fire took out most of the evidence, except that poor bastard that they ventilated outside of the fire. That journalist that was catching the eye of the city, you remember?"
"Yeah, he was a good guy. Always had information for us if we asked. Good poker player too. Damn shame to lose him like that."
"Yeah. Morgue still has him, looking for some kind of connection to what happened." The other officer shook his head and moved on. All anyone would say with any surety was that a good man was gone now. And the world was just a little poorer for it.

It was all still dark. stifling, oppressive, but there. Breath ripping through his body, hands shooting up, only to find some kind of material blocking him, and cold metal after that. An inhuman shriek ripped through the air, panic scrabbling as fingers tore at the material, finding a metal stripe that slid down. Feet hammering into a barrier that finally gave way, swinging open. Light, sweet, but harsh, blanketing the air, the voice crying out once more as it stabbed into his eyes. The draweer shot out, slamming to a halt at full extension. Gasping breaths, sitting up, hands gripping his torso savagely, ghost flickers of pain, memories that couldn't be real, couldn't be, but were all so terribly real. Pain and fire and blood, and...death. His own, his brothers, his girlfriends, so much death, so much...

The howl ripped the air once more, hands gripping the sides of his head, pressure there, pain, shrp and present, telling him that he was trying to press right through the skull to get at the images in his mind, playing back over and over, the fire, the pain in his hands, his brother spending the lasty of his strength making signs on the glass...

Jacob fell off of the shelf, hitting the floor with a shuddering breath. His palms pressed to the floor, he found some kind of center. He looked up, saw where he was. Empty morgue. he was in the morgue. He'd been in a drawer. He had been...gone. He shook his head, tears in his eyes, knowing that it was happening, that it was here. He wasn't finished. It wasn't over. Teeth grit, he gripped the drawer and used that to lever himself to his feet.

Clad in nothing more than a spare set of medical scrubs he found on hand. He stumbled out fo the morgue, into the night. His steps were staggering, hard to keep his bearing, his balance. It was an uphill struggle to keep moving, and more than one person saw him and wrote him off right away to some kind of drug-addled homeless person. But that wasn't the truth. He had purpose, he had drive. A cry, but not a human one split the air, and Jacob looked shakily up. On a street light, head cocked, looking down at him. The largest, darkest crow he'd ever seen was there, watching him. He blinked a moment, a flicker of blurred vision hitting him, and for a moment, he didn't see the crow. he saw the crow seeing him, saw how ragged he seemed, how the man he was looked to be on the verge of tears or violence, whichever might be fastest to the fore. The crow spoke again, a simple sound to split the night. It fluttered off fo the light, adn swept down an alley. Jacob followed, not knowing what else he might do.

A thousand petty tragedies happened in alleys like this every night, and he saw one had happened. An older man, homeless, dead now, beaten for what looked like a handful of change. His gorge rising as he did it, Jacob took the boots from the man. He'd not need them any longer. The pile of rubbish that he lay on revealed more, jeans, a ragged shirt, and even an old cost. All of the clothes had seen better days, but they provded him with raiment, adn that was the important thing. Jacob stood, feeling more secure now in his presence. He looked skyward to see the moon hanging in the sky. He blinked through tears, knowing that he was along in a world that he didn't belong in. He was dead. He was gone. And somehow he lingered on. There had to be purpose, something that he was here for. He needed to find that, set it right, find something that would let him go.

It was supposed to be over. He wanted it to be over. He would end it, one way or another, the end had to come soon.

The dreams were getting worse—stronger, more vivid. Lucy was beside herself and didn't quite know what to do about them. In the past, she'd talk to her sister, but that wasn't an option any longer. She'd received an urgent phone call from her father's secretary that he needed to attend some business regarding Aleena, that something had happened. More than anything she wanted to pick up and leave that very moment. But her father forbade it. And Lucy was no fool. She knew if her father made those types of demands, it meant her apartment would be watched. Even still, it had been far too long since she'd spoken to her sister. Though things between them weren't the same as when they'd been little girls, they still had that bond.

Didn't they?

Lucy liked to think they did, that there was still that hope of rekindling things to the way they once had been. Her green eyes fluttered closed as she stared out her open window, the moon shining down overhead. She heard Aleena's voice like it was yesterday...

"Stop worrying, Lucy." Aleena smirked, her hands smoothing out the fine skirt she wore. "I'm a big girl. I can handle daddy."

Lucy just sighed, leaning back in the papasan chair, the soft black cushion seemed to swallow her small body as she sat there, green eyes meeting green. "And I can't?" she retorted.

Aleena crossed her legs and leaned forward on the small wooden chair she was sitting on. "If you could, you'd be working for him."

"That isn't fair," Lucy interjected.

"Isn't it?" Aleena quickly added, her red hair sleeked back with gel and secured in a tight bun. A wisp of red fell loose and she tucked it behind her ear, clearly annoyed.

"No. It isn't," Lucy stated. She raked her hands through her own red mane, wild curls swishing this way and that. "You know how he can be...the things he does..." Her voice trailed, becoming a whisper.

"Honestly, Luce, a lot of that is just rumor to get the competition cowering in fear." Aleena's face softened. "Do you really think I'd get involved in something like that?"

Lucy's eyes opened wide, her heart lurching. She still saw that face—the one in her dreams. He was becoming clearer each time and her heart longed to find him. Something inside her told her that she needed to find him, that he was real, that he was...out there. A part of her knew it was stupid. But she had no one to confide in. Her father had seen to that and now things were strange with Aleena. He wouldn't let her talk to her. Why?

Too many questions.

Unable to sleep, Lucy walked over to her television set and flipped the thing on. Nothing was on at this hour. She had no idea why she was even bothering. Sitting down on the tiny loveseat, she stared at the screen, a newsflash suddenly taking over the screen. Large white letters flashed causing Lucy's body to tense. She sat up, eyes wide as she watched the images pop up—Lady Lucy's, her father.

"What?" Lucy whispered, blinking rapidly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. According to the reported, the place had burned down about a week ago, several people wounded and a few meeting a fatal end. Gasping, she shut the thing off and stood up. Why hadn't her father told her about this? What was he hiding? Did Aleena know?

Aleena! Oh god...

Tears began to well in Lucy's eyes. Without a further thought, she quickly changed out of her thin nightgown and into a pair of black leggings and a white t-shirt. She shoved her feet into a pair of black sneakers and just ran out into the night, choking on sobs as her reality came crashing down around her.

How she hated her father!

As Lucy ran, flaming hair flying behind her in the breeze, she saw just one face in her head—the man in her nightmares. That face...those eyes...that mouth...

Jacob leaned on the wall, takign deep breaths to try and find some kind of center to himself, some focus, something that would give him a leg up on what he was doing. He looked up across the street. There was a man there, a large man with a galre for anyone that looked at him. Jacob shivered a moment, before closing his eyes.

Heat at his back, going to burn, had to move soon, doesn't care, Ben is gone. Aleena is gone. Guns, guns aiming at his body, promise of death, promise of an ending so final none can escape it. Hesitation made to inspire fear, fear cannot touch a man with nothing left, they see it, know it, cannot miss it, why are they waiting? They see, they know, it is their task, they must do this, orders, it always has to be orders. Thunder and noise, the points tearing into him, ending things, making the black come. But the black was not quiet, the despair, everythign he wanted away from followed him into the black

Jacob cried out, reeling back, hands on his head again. A memory, a thought, something that he couldn't escape, something always waiting for him when his eyes closed. He looked across the street, seeing the face of the man there. Jacob felt his lip curl in a snarl. The man had been there. Had been one of the gunmen. Had killed him. had helped kill Aleena. Ben. Everyone that mattered. There was no justice in this man walking the street. It needed to be settled, to be evened. It had to be done. Or attempted. Jacob put one foot forward, then the other, making a move to cross the street. He started to run, distance vanishing. The man knew he was followed, knew something came for him, and ducked away from the street, making a getaway. But Jacob didn't relent. Eyes overhead, staring down, the cry of the crow, following the man, giving Jacob eyes int he sky to track his quarry. His prey. Yes, it was a hunt now, not just a chase, and all that kept Jacob moving forward was a sense of rage, of wrong that needed righting.

A small courtyard in the city, away from all prying eyes, bad things had happened here for years, smart people, good people, avoided it. Desperate might come here, those with darkness within them seeking to do harm and great wrongs to others. The gunman put his back to a wall, a weapon in hand, a slow breath being released. He is calm. He knows this game. The one after him does not, that much is clear. His pursuit is obvious, rushed, hurried. A punk looking to make a name most like. One less in a moment. his pursuit comes around the corner, and the heavy pistol in his hand roars. The man staggers away, and is hit again. Then again. He falls. The gunman smiled, and lowers the weapon.

Pain, again pain. Bullets, the sensation familiar, tearing through him. The impact hard enough to take his feet from him, and lay him on the ground. Eyes closing, pain fading. And ending. Yes, it must be an ending. A muffled clink. Eyes open again, flicking down. Bullets pushing from closing wounds. Failure not upon him. Not yet. He is not yet done. A wracking, sickening and tortured laugh prying itself free from his throat, carrying across the air to the shooter. Not the sound a dying or dead man ought make.

"The fuck...?" The gunman muttered, looking at the now convulsing man, as he sat up, holes in his ragged shirt showing where bullets entered, but clean unmarked flesh beneath it. The gun snapped up, one more shot, the bullet snapping the man's head back. Clean kill shot. Nothing survived that. The skull didn't shatter, but only just, cracks would be spidered out from that impact. The head snapped back down, blood running from the bullet hole, making a tracery along his face. Sick grin, something wrong in that look, something that spoke of rage adn hate and pain and despair and that it was all now focused on the gunman.

The gun went off again, this time missing, the hands of the shooter shaking. Jacob was in motion, rolling to his feet in a motion far too smooth for him, faster than he'd ever been, he knew this, discarded, not important. His quarry before him, all that is important. Bullets spalling on the payment, chips flying, uncared for, unnoticed even. A balled fist hammering home, hitting the chest of the shooter. The man staggered back, clutching the impact point, another hand hitting his wrist, cracking a bone, dropping the gun from nerveless fingers.
"The fuck?!" The man shouted, looking up at his assailant, at Jacob. There was another clink as the gunman watched the bullet slide from the wound in the head, and drop to the pavement. "Jesus. Jesus Christ."

"No no, too late for that. How many time has someone else said that to you while you took aim, took your time?" Jacob asked, his hand gripping hte shoulder of the gunman. "Did it ever make you stop?"
"Fuck you! Then fuck you want from me?!" The words were spat, and the man tried to lunge forward. Jacob hammered a fist into his sternum, then to his face, then drove fingers at his skin. Breaking through it, he closed a fist around a bone, the collarbone. The gunman screamed, loud and raw, as Jacob twsited his wrist, snapping the bone. Gasping breath now,the gunman slumped to the wall, the hand releasing the now broken bone.

"Look at me. What do you see?" Jacob asked. The man complied, seeing just a face. Then he looked a little closer.
"No. No no no. You're fucking gone. I watched you die!" He shouted before gasping from the broken bone.
"And now you return the favour. Turn about after all..." Jacob punched the broken bone, making the man all but pass out. Fingers going in again, this time for his cracked wrist, wrenching it, contorting the joint. A screech of pain beyond endurance split the air, making Jacob smile a moment before stabbing his fingers into the throat of his foe, his killer, his victim, and ripping it out in a welter of blood and viscera. He let the wet mass fall, and raised bloodied hands to the sky, giving voice to rage, to despair, to vengeance wrought, bright and terrible.

He placed a hand to the dead man's face to push him from the wall, when-

Faces. He can see the faces of his companions as they clean and load the weapons they have been given. Weapons given to them specifically. hollow point bullets, massive trauma to flesh, but low penetration. Won't break the thick glass of where they're going. One target in mind, overkill to send four men, and have two more on hand to start the party, but their boss is thorough. He believes in being sure.

-staggering away, faces, names, they were in his head, things he'd never seen, couldn't have seen, but there they were, seen to him, known to him. The men who had killed him, and that there were more of them besides, the ones that would have killed Ben and Aleena. Five now. Going to be less. The sky rumbled, the promise of rain and lightning coming. He heaved a breath, and stood taller, squaring his shoulders, and beginning to walk. He had no idea where to start. But he had been a journalist. He knew how to look for people. He'd find them. And he would show them fear. He would show them vengeance. He stepped back onot the street, heedless of the blood on his hands.

Thunder cracked overhead and the sky lit up with streaks of lightning. Lucy stopped in her tracks, her pale face looking up into the inky black sky as heavy drops of rain began to fall. She heaved a sigh, her body becoming soaked to the bone as her clothes began to cling to her delicate frame.

"Just great," Lucy huffed. She had no jacket, no umbrella...absolutely nothing...to protect her from the elements as they fell from the sky. It was as if something was trying to torment her, mocking the despair she suddenly felt roiling deep inside her soul, trying desperately to wrench itself free.

Lucy could still see that face from her dreams—those nightmares—as she took heavy steps along the pavement, shiny and slick from the water that pooled on it. Her sneakers squished and she paid no mind to the tears that fell. What did she care any more? No one could tell and no one would bother. She moved her arms about herself, hugging her middle as a shiver moved along her spine. There was a movement in the shadows. Something...someone...she couldn't tell. Probably just some homeless person trying to get out of the rain.

"Ugh..." Lucy said with a grimace as she looked down over herself. Her shirt was sticking to her body, every curve more than revealing. She needed to find shelter. Hell, she needed to go home. Only she didn't want to go there. She needed to talk to her father despite how much she hated the bastard.

There was a rustling sound in the distance and Lucy stopped where she was. Every nerve fiber felt raw, suddenly on full alert. She got the sense she wasn't alone. Turning her head, her wild hair starting to mat slightly against her face, she peered through her damp curls and saw a distinct silhouette. Tilting her head slightly, she squinted, trying to make out the features. The shadow moved and she heard a low rumble echo from the darkness. Swallowing hard, her hands began to tremble, her thoughts spinning a mile a minute.

She knew her father had more than likely sent men to keep a watch on her, to make sure she didn't do something he didn't want. But even now?

"You look just like her," came a gruff voice. "Spittin' fuckin' image."

Lucy's green eyes widened and she felt her blood turn to ice. This man definitely was one of her father's and he knew Aleena. Maybe he could tell her something. Anything. No. She couldn't trust him. None of her father's people could be trusted. She knew that and could never forget it.

Shaking her head, Lucy smiled weakly and raked a hand through her fiery hair. "Not sure what you mean?" she said, turning away and continuing on.

"Yeah you do," the voice said, rougher, more forcefully. "She was a bitch too."

"Pardon?" Lucy squeaked, her eyes clamping shut, feeling stupid for having answered this man at all. Stupid Lucy!

The man just laughed. "Bet you're just as sweet."

At that, Lucy went into full run, her legs sprinting against the wet pavement as the rain came down in torrents. There was another crack of thunder and flash of lightning and she heard the heavy thuds of footfalls behind her.

"Shit!"

Lucy ran hard, her breaths short and rough, her lungs on fire. Terror washing over her she dared a glance over her shoulder. The moment she saw those furious eyes, she tripped, slipping on the slick asphalt and landing with a hard thud upon the ground. She rolled a little, scraping her palms and no doubt bruising her hip. She let out a scream...but no one came. No one ever did any longer. Trying to scramble to her feet, she felt a blow against her back.

"Don't think so!"

Lucy fell back down onto the ground, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She rolled onto her back and looked up at the man who'd struck her. He definitely looked like someone her father would employ, but why? Why was he doing this? As tears stung her eyes, he grabbed her wrists and straddled her. He paused a moment to admire her.

"Orders were if you tried something it meant you knew something. I don't ask questions and I do things my own way." He smiled down at Lucy who winced. "And I always get my way."

Rain had come, was falling on him now. He closed his eyes, raised his arms over his head, letting the fat drops of water fall onto his face. There was the fleeting wish that if he let it rain on him long enough, then perhaps it could wash away all of this feeling that he was drowning under. But no. He knew that wouldn't happen, no matter how much it rained. His eyes opened as he caught the sight of a flare of colour going past him. He paused, his heart in his throat, looking after a sodden woman that looked every bit like Aleena was walking past. But Aleena was dead. He had seen her die, seen the flames take the room, seen it all. She couldn't be there. Was this another side effect of what he'd become? Seeing things that weren't there? She couldn't be real. If she had been she'd have noticed him, said something, reacted to his presence in some way. That much he didn't doubt.

But he saw something else that caught his attention. Someone else reacting to her. Unless his mind was very creative with it's projections, then this wasn't him hallucinating. This was a woman. And also from the look of it, she was very suddenly in a tight spot. The crow flew past, eyes in the sky once more, and hefocused on that, closing his own eyes, letting it see for him. Saw her run. Saw her stumble. Saw her fall. Saw the man claiming his prize. He could hear as well as see, hear the words being said nearby, neither side of the budding tragedy taking any note of the dark bird that flew in the rain, that was watching with unnatural attention.

The man grinned down at Lucy with no trace of mirth in his face. They were on the street, but on the street in the rain, in a part of town that everyone knew better than to draw attention to the goings on. If the police were to get involved, it would be nothing short of a terrible coincidence. He hand gathered her wrists into one hold, while he jerked on the neckline of her shirt, ripping the fabric partway down. his grin only widened before the sounds of the struggle were overtaken by a clear voice taht cut through the din utterly.

"My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane." The voice said, seeming to be quoting something. The man looked up to see who was interfering with his work. He was lanky, soaked, and looked to be done up in ragged clothes like one of the homeless.
"The fuck you on junkie? This aint your business. Piss off." He snarled, struggling a moment to keep his hold on Lucy. He might outweigh her by an enormous degree, and be able to easily overpower her, but desperation lent her more resources than one might expect. The man who had spoke camee closer, cocking his head, and smiling.
"Suppose I make it my business?"
"Fine, you can have a turn at her when I'm done with her." He shook his head, but snapped it back up when the man kept coming closer. A knife appeared in the hand of the thug, aiming it at the approaching man, before back down to Lucy. "No closer until I say so, you hear me?"
"Clearly." A nod and the man looked back down at the rain sodden Lucy. He didn't see it when the other man moved on him.

Jacob grabbed for the knife first, using momentum to bowl the thug off of Lucy. The thug was no stranger to fights like this, using a leg to lever Jacob off fo him. Jacob was back into it in an instant, but the thug had been planning for that. The knife was a long thing, fixed blade, and nearly ten inches long. It sank into Jacob's chest, and the thug grunted with teh effort, pushing it tot he hilt, impaling what had to be a lung. The thug smiled at him, before withdrawing the knife and turning back to Lucy. Hands gripped his face, and Jacob pulled him back towards him. A grin that spoke only of madness was beside his ear, and Jacob spoke again.
"For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust alike. Is your conscience clear? Have you made your peace with God?" Jacob asked him, jerking him around, and farther away from Lucy. The knife flailed and hacked at his arm, deep, puckering sounds showing all along his arm, the sleeve of the jacket shredding under the desperate assault. Jacob shot a hand out, gripping the wrist. With a practiced motion, for he'd done it before, the wrist snapped. The howl of pain faded as Jacob released the limb, and shot his hand out to pluck the knife from the air. The blade came in, sinking into the eye of the thug. The body spasmed a moment before still. Blood had stopped dripping from the wounds on his arm, the wounds sealed again. He turned to look at Lucy, letting the corpse fall, and just staring at her, not believing what he was seeing.

"You wear her face. How are you wearing her face? Who...what are you?" He almost whispered.

Terror. Sheer terror. That's all she felt. Lucy tried to pull her thoughts together, but they were running too wild, too rampant for her to muster up anything coherent. There was blackness, an empty void as she stared up in surreal disbelief at the large man on top of her. She could feel his weight, so unwelcome as the rain poured down—the only thing washing her clean in this foulest of moments. Wriggling, writhing, it was of no use. He was just too heavy, too big. He had no plans on moving.

And he was going to get his way.

Tears fell like the rain down Lucy's cheeks, her breaths coming out in sharp pants as the reality of the situation began to sink in... How could her father employ such people? Why would he want her silenced? What did he think she might know? She was confused and never felt more alone.

The ground was hard underneath her, the sky so dark as the drops pelted against her face. There was no sign of reprieve, just like there was no mercy in the actions of her assaulter. Someone her father knew, had sent, had... "No...no...no..." Lucy whimpered, but the man held her wrists fast with one large hand. His other quickly went to work ripping her shirt down its middle as if it were paper. "No...no..." But he just smiled, that wicked grin that made her tummy lurch, that made her long for death.

For surely death would be better than this.

And then the man paused and she heard a voice in the distance, muffled due to the blood that thundered in her ears. Lucy strained to see what was going on, who had caught the attention of her attacker. But she couldn't make anything out. The rain was too thick and she was stuck fast against the unforgiving pavement as it bit into her flesh, her palms still burning from their scrapes. The man on top of her seemed preoccupied, his head twisting this way and that as the voice sounded in the distance.

Just who was there?

With a shaky breath, Lucy mumbled a prayer, her green eyes clamping shut when the voice became louder, forceful. A vigilante? Most of those sorts had become scarce, the laws harsher now and the corruption of most local cops who allied themselves with people much like...her father...on the rise. It had become a problem for everyone. And she hated it. The few who stood up to crime and sought justice—true justice—they were rare, a breed that barely existed any longer.

Lucy felt her body trembling, the fear rising in her veins. She hoped that whoever was out there distracting this beast on top of her wasn't going to get himself hurt. She saw the knife glinting in the distorted light of the night, her heart pumping harder, her mind going numb. "Oh god..." she whispered, bracing herself for the worst. Only it never came.

One moment he was there, ready to hurt, to abuse, to... And the next he was gone, his large body somehow pried off of her and onto the black asphalt. Lucy didn't bother to watch where he'd gone, instead scrabbling backwards, trying to back away from the events unfolding before her eyes. She plunged her hands into her matted down red hair, pushing it away from her face. As the rain fell, she could see two men fighting. Or, what appeared to be two men. One was large, brutish—her attacker. The other...her eyes widened as she stared at him, breath catching in her throat.

It was him! That face! Those eyes...that mouth! Just how was that possible?

Lucy's hands began to shake as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Every time the thug struck his blow, the other man was able come away without so much as a scratch. What was he? An angel? She looked up into the black sky, the rain caressing her skin with feather-light kisses, washing away the grime of the attack. Looking back at the brawl between the two men, she found herself being called toward her vigilante, the one from her dreams, despite the brutality she was witnessing. It was for her, to help her, to protect an innocent. Such rarities.

Suddenly, it was over. The vigilante or angel—Lucy scarcely knew—made his final death strike. He threw the knife into the large man's eye, the blade sinking deep and no doubt puncturing the brain. The brute dropped, his body spasming before finally lying still and running with blood as the rain continued to fall. Lucy stood up, her body soaked, her clothes torn and hugging her body due to the rain. Slowly, hesitantly, yet feeling a pull so strong it made her heart ache, she walked toward her rescuer.

"M-me?" Lucy whispered, astonished that such a man would wonder what she was when he was the one who could miraculously heal himself after being stabbed several times. "I...I'm just Lucy," she said. "Well, Lucinda. But..." her voice trailed. "Just Lucy. No one special." She looked down at the pavement, ribbons of red running along it and dripping into the nearby sewers. "I..." she continued, a shaking hand reaching out, only for her to pull it back. "I'd like to know who you are?" she then asked, biting down on her lower lip. Not wanting to sound harsh, she added. "So that I can thank you."

Lucy felt her cheeks warm a bit, her green eyes looking away from that face she'd seen time and time again in her dreams. Just how was this possible? She'd never seen him before... Swallowing hard, she looked back at his face—those eyes and that mouth. She'd never forget them. Not ever.

"And I'm not sure what you mean?" Lucy stated, pondering this man's other question. "Who's face?" She knitted her brows together as she frowned slightly and then suddenly it was all too clear. This man knew Aleena. "Oh...you mean Aleena..." she said with a heavy sigh, her arms crossing about her body as she shivered. "I'm her sister."

The one who won't work for daddy, who isn't the perfect princess, the disappointment of the family. But Lucy was all right with those things. Only now, over the years, it had ruined the relationship she'd had with her twin. Forever driving that wedge between them, severing the closeness they'd once shared as little girls.

"Her younger twin sister."

Jacob stared at her, taking in every aspect of her face. There was a very sutle difference to her, not in the physical, but there was a kind of...vulnerability, though that could have been caused by recent events. But she didn't have the same poise, the same stance that Aleena had possessed, the same kind of self-assurance. He wasn't sure if it was a bad thing. But the more he looked, the more he saw, the more she both reminded him and didn't remind him of his lost Aleena. But a sister?
"No. No, you can't be, there wasn't a sister, she never said anything about a sister. No, he did, a few weeks in, did the digging, came across the picture, saw it. Made the jokes, yes, there was...is a sister. Lucy. Like the place. Where...like the place it happened." Jacob was still staring at her, rambling, whatever thoughts came to his mind, no sense to them, no proper order. He shook his head to clear it, a small snse of what he had done, adn where he was, and what the proper thing to do was. He looked at Lucy again, his eyes half lidded and all but brimming with despair.

"Are you okay? No, that's stupid to ask, of course you're not. Are you hurt?" He asked her. he didn't pay attention, didn't notice, when the crow fluttered down from the lamp post and landed lightly on his shoulder, not acknowledging it even when it cgave a call to the sky, and fixed an eye on Lucy directly. Jacob closed his eyes a moment to collect himself, only to find he was stil seeing her. His hand came up to gently stroke the side fo the Crow. The bird gave a low fluttering sound, seeming pleased at the contact.

Lucy rubbed at her rain-soaked arms, goose bumps on porcelain pale flesh peeking through the torn white shirt that clung to her tiny body. The thing was a tattered mess and she gripped the torn edges to keep herself from being fully exposed. Licking at her lips, water drops getting caught on the corners of her mouth, she dared a step forward. Just what was he? Who was he? He knew Aleena, that much was clear. But there was an innocence about the way he spoke to her, the way he was trying to make sense of everything about him. He was like a child...lost in the dark. Alone. And much like her...frightened.

"I..." Lucy began, her teeth chattering more from the lingering adrenaline than fear of the man in front of her or even the chilly air that swirled through the night. "I'm not hurt...well..." she corrected herself suddenly looking at her palms, letting go of the edges of her shirt. "Not badly. It'll be fine."

Lucy gave the man a smile, his face causing something deep inside her to stir, to awaken. She glanced at the crow that suddenly found its perch upon his shoulder, the bird a frightening size. But as it sat there, his hand moving up to gently stroke it, she felt no fear, only awe, something tugging her closer.

She was meant to find him.

"I don't know who you are," Lucy went on. "But... I know you." Her mouth felt dry, like it had filled with sand. Her green eyes went from the crow and back to the man's face—that angelic face that emblazoned itself in her mind, her heart. "I've dreamed of you." She felt her cheeks heat up, her palms still held out and full of scrapes. As she shifted her stance, the ache in her hip made her wince though she tried her best to hide it. Her injuries were nothing compared to the fact that he'd helped her, saved her, that he was the very one she'd been dreaming about for at least a week.

And...he knew Aleena. Her sister. She'd heard nothing about her in over a year.

Lucy suddenly realized her state and moved to tug on her shirt once more. The soggy torn thing was slipping off her body. She'd been too wrapped up in her thoughts, in his questions to realize. At first. Pulling on the white shredded fabric, she readjusted herself and then bit down on her lip.

"I...I don't live far off if..." Lucy choked on her words, her heart suddenly speeding up. She wasn't sure what she was doing or what she was saying. Blood still ran through the streets, blood spilled to save her. As she stared at the man before her, she just found herself in complete wonder and compelled to follow what she felt in her heart—that she was meant to find him. "If you need somewhere to stay," she offered, her eyes looking away from man and crow, staring at the black pavement beneath her feet.

Jacob shook his ead at her words, denying some of them outright.
"No, no you can't know me. No one knows me now. I don't know me. I don't. I don't know me." He turned tolook at the dead man, the knife still in his eye. He couldn't fail to notice that there was a shape forming from the blood leaking from the man. The rain made the blood run far more than nrormal, but he could make it out. A...bird. Wings spread wide. The crow on his shoulder cried out, flaring it's wings outwards. The shapes were identical. Jacob wrenched his eyes away from it.

The damage done to her shirt was significant, adn ehr advance had allowed to do less that it's intended task. He shifted his eyes slightly, staring at hers. So vivid. Intese. Like Aleena's. It was Aleen's face there, so alike, so not like her. Most people would be able to easily confuse the two of them for one another. Jacob would have never made that mistake, no matter how long or short a time he'd spent with Aleena, the two were night and day to one another. Aleena had been confident, almost arrogant, stepped back from nothing, met everything head on. Lucy seemed to not have that quality, or perhaps had it in a different way. He didn't know. it was impossible to know really. She dind't know him, he didn't know her, and the more he let himself stand there, the mroe that he realized he was allowing himself to run in circles.

She spoke of home, her home, that he might be welcome there, and there was a pang in his chest, something that spoke of feelings that he was trying desperately to keep buried. Simple kindness. In this city, that was a rare commodity, often scorned as insincere, after all, if everyone was just trying to survive in a place that had been long ago seen as falling apart. Police were present, but laregly corrupt and not interested in helping. City officials were in the pay of the lawless. Sometimes the press might make a statement, why Jacob had been involved in it, standing up for truth. But now...what was the truth? He'd been a gentle soul once, nothing moreviolent in his past than a scrap with his brother when they were kids. But he'd killed two men this night, and with a certain amount of enjoyment on one of them. He needed... a moment. Maybe two. He looked back to Lucy.
"It...might not be safe out here. I can...take you home?" It was a question, not sure where to go from here other than forward.

Lucy looked back up into the man's eyes, her head tilting as the rain pelted her pale face. Red hair fell across her eyes so she reached up to push it away, her torn shirt shifting over her over slightly exposed body. Quickly, she reached back down and gave the shirt a tug, securing it fast between slender fingers, knuckles whitened by the grip she tried to keep. Transfixed, she let her eyes linger on his for a moment, trying to figure out why they'd been brought together. Somehow she knew there was a deeper purpose—a darker purpose—to everything, she could feel it in her bones and in her blood as it pumped hot through her veins. Licking her lips, she gave him a nod and then smiled, daring to take another step forward. Her grip tightened even more as she held onto the edges of her torn shirt causing the scrapes on her palms to sting. But she paid it no mind.

"Y-yes," Lucy whispered. "Please." She gave him a nod and dared another step forward. Despite the pull she felt, she could sense his confusion and it only furthered her own. She glanced upward and then at the crow on perched on his shoulder. She smiled at the creature desperately wanting to stroke its gleaming black feathers. "It's not far off," she added looking away from the bird and back at the man.

The dreams swirled through Lucy's mind. She could feel the heat and hear the thunder. It pushed at her like a beast trying to trample its prey—without mercy or relent. Its only thought was to consume and kill and to take joy as it mutilated and destroyed. A shiver ran through her at the memory. Oh, she could feel the fear and hear the cries. They echoed of pain and sorrow and then there was that face...his face. So often she'd seen him. Heard him...felt him. Her cheeks warmed despite the chill in the air.

"This way," Lucy gestured as she began to walk in the direction of her modest apartment, favoring her left leg. She'd need to see to her bruises later. But for now, she just wanted to get this man off the streets and out of the rain. She knew it wasn't safe for her and after the display he'd shown she knew he could easily protect her and take care of himself.

For the most part.

But there was an innocence in his manner, a vulnerability. And that frightened Lucy. She knew the sorts of people that were now watching her and he'd made himself a target by aiding her. And then there was the added fact that he knew Aleena? It was all so overwhelming! For a moment, Lucy reminisced on how it used to be when she and Aleena had been little...

"I'll always take care of you, Luce," Aleena promised, her child's face full of determination as she brushed her red hair into a state of perfection.

Lucy stared back at her twin through the mirror, her own red curls a wild tangled mess. "Really?" she squeaked.

"Of course! What are older sisters for?" Aleena said with a smirk. She set her brush down and grabbed a nearby stuffed animal and threw it at Lucy who just laughed.

Lucy smiled, but the memory faded and she thought of more recent times...

"Really Lucy, this righteous rebel act has got to stop." Aleena looked down at Lucy, her clothes impeccable, her hair done up in a french-twist.

"It's not an act, Alli. I wish you understood that." Lucy frowned and plopped down on her bed. "I don't want anything to do with daddy because I don't agree with what he does." She sighed. "You know that."

Aleena huffed. "Well, if you won't work for him, then consider me no longer your sister." The older twin's green eyes blazed. "We're your family! And you're a disappointment to us all!" She turned so that her back was to Lucy. "What would mother say?"

Lucy's eyes filled with tears. "That was a low thing to say," she whispered. "Get out."

"I plan it," Aleena said, anger resounding in her voice. "This is the last time we'll be seeing each other."

A tear rolled down Lucy's cheek, but with the rain, she figured it was concealed well enough. Sniffling a bit, she turned and reached out for the man's hand. "Come on, this way," she said.

He heard her agreement, just barely heard her speaking, enough to process it, but not much more beyond that. He always ended up seeing her eyes, seeing them in that same way he had always seen her sister. But these eyes weren't the same, they weren't, and he had to keep reminding himself of that. He let out a slow breath as she moved past him, on her way. He turned to follow her, take her home no idea what he might do once he'd accomplished this. Did she know? Did she know that Aleena was gone? Could she? Could she not? What was even happening to him? He heard the faint sniffle, a sound he'd long ago learned to pick out.

Unsympathetic as it might be, a sniffle usually meant there was a story around, and if he was sharp, he'd be able to suss it out. This time he fixed his attention on her again just as her hand touched his. Her hand was still warm, despite the rain and the chill, or perhaps he was simply that cold. He felt those fingers start to slide along his hand when-

-always take care of you Luce. -no longer your sister- -stop worrying- -things he does- -honestly Luce-

It was so fast, a flurry of broken images that hammered into his mind over and over, each time a little clearer, a little more focused. A little more painful.

He pulled aay from her with a cry, hands going to his face, the crow in motion, calling out tot he night as it lit off of hi shoulder and landed on a windowsill nearby, still watching the two of them. Jacob heaved a breath, then another, each time staggering a little, each time trying to banish these new sights, new sounds, new memories that didn't belong in his head, didn't need to be there. But they were there, seared into his mind, just as vivid as the moment they had arrived. He got himself under a modicum of control again, and looked at her through his own fingers, not removing his hands from his face.
"You loved her. So much. And she abandoned you to your fate. Threw you aside because you weren't useful anymore." He spoke without thought, without regard, all he wanted was to never have seen it in the first place, but that wasn't an option. What he saw was never unseen. Never. And after coming back from being killed, he doubted that even if he finished a task here, was allowed to leave, to move on, to die finally, that he would find a kind of peace. He'd still remember, still carry this. Forever.

Lucy's hand dropped to her side, her torn shirt falling a bit about her body. The thin white material hung loose about her shoulders, sliding over frame causing the swells of her breasts to suddenly peek in the middle. She hardly noticed as she stared at the man before her. He was struggling, so unsure, so lost. More than anything, she wanted to just hold him close, to stroke his hair and whisper soothing words into his ear. A man like him shouldn't be in agony. It just wasn't right and it made her heart twist in her chest.

The rain continued its assault, a bolt of lightning streaking the sky as a roar of thunder interrupted the sudden silence as Lucy continued to watch him. She was unsure of what to do, her heart telling her to go for him, her mind second-guessing everything. Just then, there was a rustle of feathers and the crow took off into the inky sky, not seeming to mind the rain.

Lucy followed the flight of the bird as it flew, her green eyes squinting through the dim lighting of the streetlights. "I...I'm sorry..." she apologized, though she wasn't even sure why. But her touch had caused him pain. That much was clear and it made her leery of touching him again, though she desperately longed to. "Who? M-my sister?" she asked.

If this man had indeed been referring to Aleena then he was very much correct. The love Lucy'd had for her twin was something she thought no one could ever tear down and decimate. Yet, over the years her sister had pushed her away, not once had she ever truly mattered to Aleena. Though at one time, she'd thought she did. No. She was a means to boost her twin's own ego, her own position in the family. And that hurt more than anything.

"L-let's not talk about her here," Lucy pleaded, her green eyes glistening in the distorted light. "Just a few more blocks and we can get in out of the rain." She swallowed hard and pushed back her matted red hair, her torn shirt beginning to fall so she moved to hold it in place. "And talk." She smiled at him, shivering. She knew they had to leave the area soon. It wouldn't be long before more of her father's men arrived looking for her or the man who'd put down one of his own. And knowing her father, he'd have a cop or three under his thumb to help him out. And that would make things so much worse. She glanced up in the direction the crow had flown and then back at the man. "Like you said...it isn't safe here."

It isn't safe. Nowhere was safe, but nowhere was dangerous to him either. He'd shown that clearly when he'd been wounded then just as suddenly not. He could be anywhere. but she couldn't. She was still human, still...intact. The world hadn't shattered her yet. Yet. he always had that in mind, no longer possessed fo the faith that someone could make it through the world without breaking under the strain. He shook himself bodily, forcing his thoughts away from the mrobid path that they were on. He needed to focus on the right now. She wanted him to to follow her, to talk to him, and maybe make some sense of this whole thing. He let out a shuddering breath.

"Yes. Yes. Out of the rain." He Agreed, lowering his hands, and standing up straight, looking up at the cloud covered sky. For just a moment, the clouds parted enough to see the moon. Full and bright, it shed an ethereal light onto the land around him. Jacob looked down at her again. "Let's go." He followed behind her, keeping her in sight, and he felt the crow on his shoudler once more, not wanting to leave his side, ad he didn't mind. He barely noticed the creature, it was like ti had always been a part of him, always there. He knew if he let himself he could recall his life before everything, when the thought of a great black bird on his shoulder would have seemed odd, but that only led him to having to block away the memories, or else collapse under the weight of them.

They arrived at a building a few blocks away. He closed his eyes a moment, before he followed her inside. Committed now to see where this led him, he had to know what happened, he had to see what this woman was going t do, see what she knew.

It was dark, the air getting colder as the rain mercilessly fell from the pitch black sky. Not once had it shown signs of letting up since it began to fall. Lucy stared up, letting the water wash over her face, down along her cheeks, her neck. Her entire body was soaked and she looked forward to changing into something dry, something...warmer. She glanced over her shoulder, glimpsing the man as he followed. He wasn't far behind and it set her mind at ease. It would do them both good to get out of the rain and possibly the eyes of anyone who might still be skulking the streets. She knew her father. The man was ruthless, relentless. He'd have back up patrolling the area soon enough. The man had friends in every nook and cranny of the city. The law worked for him even though he was merely a businessman.

Lucy shivered. How easily people were bought, their souls corrupted by the promise of power. The seduction was overwhelming, the temptations real and powerful. She cringed at how far her father had fallen...taking her sister along with him. It was so unfair.

"We're here," Lucy whispered after leading the man down a few more blocks and finally up a stone set of stairs that led to a battered red door. She swung it open and gestured he continue to follow. There was another flight of steps adjacent to a long and lonely corridor. She ignored the hall and made for the stairs. "Just one more flight. Promise," she said, giving him a smile. Her hands firmly held her shirt in place as she shook her head, red hair falling back into a tangled mess over her shoulders and along her back. It was nice to be inside where it was dry.

Once up the stairs, Lucy walked down two doors and stopped at the one marked with the number 202. Her keys had been lost during the scuffle, but there was a hidden one she kept in the potted plant outside her door. Probably not the safest place to keep the thing, but nowadays most people ignored the obvious. And if they really wanted 'in', they'd find a way despite it.

Lucy blushed as she dug into the dirt of the plant adjacent to her door, pulling out the spare key. She knew the locks would have to be changed. Her landlord would be pissed, probably force her to pay extra because of the trouble. She frowned at the thought. But she had no choice. Not with the people who were out there, the ones who were watching her. As it was, she probably shouldn't even stay in her apartment for too long.

That notion troubled her, made her blood turn cold. But for now...

"My home," Lucy said softly after turning the lock and opening her door. "It's not much," she said. "But I like it."

It was a studio, but everything about the place oozed of Lucy—her personality, everything. The walls were covered in drawings—most of them sketches. There was a papasan chair with a plush black cushion of in one corner, a table with a wooden chair in another. There was a television on a smaller table against the far wall and then the bed. Off to the side was a tiny kitchenette that bled into the rest of the studio and then a small bathroom with the door left ajar. It was simple, but it had everything.

Lucy walked over to the window and drew the curtains. She then walked over to the closet, which was stuffed with clothes, towels and blankets. Removing a blanket, she brought it over to the man and smiled up at him.

"Wish I had something you could wear," Lucy said, her cheeks heating despite the fact that she was still in her soaked and torn clothes. She grabbed at the edges of her shirt with her free hand when she felt it slipping once again. "But hopefully this will keep you warm."

But I like it...
It was as much of a blessing to the place as one could expect. Lucy wasn't interested in caring what anyone else thought of her place, that was the declaration in that statement, and that was all anyone should have to say about where they lived. Jacob let his eyes travel along the walls, picking out the sketches, trying not to stare. When she came with the blanket, he stared at it dumbly a moment, as though trying to figure out what she was trying to accomplish with it. Warm. She was concerned about his staying warm. He reached a hand out, and gently took it from her, making sure not to touch her again. He didn't want to have to See that again. Not like that. It had been a rush of noise and pain last time, he couldn't let himself go through that again. And besides, this was not taking the knowledge of a terrible person to give him what he needed. This was taking snippets of a life that owed him nothing, stealing the memories and life that she had lived. He didn't have the right to those. And he'd not steal that from her.

"Thank you." He said quietly, taking the blanket, moving it through his fingers, feeling the softness of it. He let it fall to unfold, and slung it around his shoulders. He felt the shiver of warmth, but more importantly to him, the water was being sopped up. It was less for his own comfort, and more to do with dripping on her floor. Granted she hadn't made any kind of comment on the subject, but then, why would she? With all that had gone on, it would seem like a minor detail. His eyes tracked away from her, looking over the walls again. She was good at what she did, there was talent in her artistry. Simple works, but well crafted. There were a few in particular that caught his attention, and he zeroed in on them. What he was was...him.

His own face, staring back at him, a few of them in intricate detail that missed no part of him. All that seemed off slightly was his eyes. They were darkened, but no sketch could capture what happened in his eyes, not anymore. He turned slowly, the blanket held loosely on his shoulders.
"How did you know me?" He asked her faintly. "How long did you know me? Were you looking for me tonight?"

Lucy brushed past the man so that she could gently shut her door, the wood closing with a soft click. Quickly, carefully, she locked it up. She twisted the bolt the first then fastened the chain followed by placing the key back in the keyhole in the knob itself. She grinned sheepishly as she watched the man hold onto the blanket she'd just given him, studying him a bit with her emerald eyes and noticing that he couldn't help but glance at the sketches she had lining her walls. Her cheeks warmed when her own drifted to the one portrait she'd spent a particularly great amount of time on, her hands having crafted a likeness so perfect that it gave her chills as she looked at it and then at the man standing before her. There were a couple of differences though. They were subtle, but there. Despite the shadows she'd marked on his features in the drawing, she'd know him anyway.

Always.

With heated cheeks, Lucy cleared her throat. Her green gaze suddenly turned to the floor. "Where do I know you?" she restated the question, letting it roll around her mind a little.

It wasn't an easy answer. Lucy had never seen him before. She didn't know who he was, where he came from. Hell, she didn't even know his name. The fact that he knew Aleena had taken her by surprise. Though, given everything, she supposed it shouldn't have. Aleena was her sister, her twin...the one everyone was always drawn to. Her father had made that perfectly clear ever since they were little, ever since they'd lost their mother.

"Well," Lucy began as she headed toward her kitchenette. She opened the tiny fridge and looked inside. There was some thawed hamburger inside and the sight made her grin. Carefully, she took it out and then found a plate. She placed a portion of the raw meat on the plate and then put it on the counter. Biting down on her lower lip, she looked at the man and then the crow perched on his shoulder. "For...for your friend," she said softly.

Lucy pushed the plate forward along the counter, smiling brightly as she looked at the crow.

"I...I've never met you before tonight," Lucy continued, taking a small step back from the plate. She walked around the counter and in front of the man standing in her apartment. Her eyes met his, her body still wet as her clothes hung limply to her semi dry skin. The shirt began to slip, so she tugged the edges. "But you've been in my dreams." Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head, damp red hair swishing about her shoulders. "I don't know why...but you have." She looked away, unable to hold his gaze, her tummy fluttering as thoughts of those dreams swirled through her mind. It was so overwhelming, the emotions, the images...all of it. "For weeks now..." she whispered. "I don't know how you know Aleena, or..." her voice trailed. She didn't want to think about her sister right then. "You've consumed my mind. Everything... Your face." She looked back up into his eyes, her own glittering while her lips turned up into a smile.

Oh how Lucy wanted to touch him, be touched back. But she worried what it might do, how he'd react. The last time he touched her, it seemed to cause him pain and that was the last thing she wanted to do to this man that seemed to beckon her soul. She could feel her heart racing, her breaths quickening. This man somehow called out to her and she'd bared her thoughts to him. Foolish? Maybe. But she couldn't help it. Her dream was real. He was there. He was no longer just a sketch on paper.

As Lucy stared into his eyes—worry and fear and so much more flooding her—she knew she was right where she was supposed to be.