This is a joint story produced on Ghostletters that I thought was amusing enough to share with my loyal fans. For those unfamiliar with the GL world, I've included a brief character description provided by the scribes. Mary Cecelia O'Brian is the daughter of Jack O'Brian. She is a single mother of three children, a former private investigator, and part owner of her father's restaurant, Chief Jack's Galley in Espanola, NM. Julian Vyse is a 1700 (or so) year old bisexual mage with an ability to walk through time. That he was once an Emperor in the 4th Century CE is neither here nor there, nor now nor then. Maximus was a priest of Mithras and philosopher of the 4th century, a friend to the Emperor Julian. He's recently been resurrected. ______ Fairies In the Garden Copyright 2001 By Anne Fraser, John Holton and Jean Hontz ______ The front doors of Oakwoods were worth looking at. Double doors of Solid oak, carved with the likeness of an oak tree that split in the middle When the doors were opened. The large brass door knockers were fashioned Into wolves' heads, the heavy rings in their mouths. Yes, all the obvious Nice knockers jokes have long since been done. There was a snuffling, whining sound on the other side of the doors. A man's footfalls could be heard by the really discerning ear, and then the right-hand door cracked open. The streaming light from the hallway revealed a fit, muscular man of indeterminable age, dressed in formal dinner clothes, his rugged features topped off by a shock of deep auburn hair. He looked like professional security. He was. "Julian, Maximus," he said, extending his hand in welcome. "Good to see you again. And you must be Mary Cecelia O'Brian. Welcome to Oakwoods. I'm Evan Jones." "How do you do, Mr. Jones?" Mary Cecelia smiled, and held out the bouquet of flowers she had brought. "I brought these along." "I'll take them," Evan said, and smiled back at her. "Please, follow me." "Ladies first," Julian said. Mary Cecelia smiled up at him, then followed Evan into the house. >From down the hall came a furious yapping, and a fuzzy brown and white Ball bounded along the carpet and stood guard at Evan's feet, blocking the way. Close behind, a larger gray shadow stalked in stately manner, and at the far end of the hall stood another gray shadow. Evan rolled his eyes. "Pumpkin, heel," he said, and the brown and white fuzzball, which proved to be a sad-eyed spaniel, sat staring mournfully up at Mary Cecelia. "Awww," Mary Cecelia cooed. She squatted down and stroked the little dog on the head, giving her a playful tug on the ears as she did. "Aren't you a cutie?" The dog hopped up and down, sniffing madly and making little yipping noises. "She probably smells my cat." "Meet the critters," said the major domo with a grin. "This," he indicated the spaniel with the waggle of a foot, "is Pumpkin. The panther is Smoke, and the shy wolf is Warg." He didn't even turn his head as a tall young Man came running in the wake of the animals. "And this is Mitch. Mitch, Mary Cecelia O'Brian." Blue eyes twinkled at her from under a shock of brown hair that badly Needed a comb. "Hey," said Mitch. "The Boss is waiting. Why, Evan, are those flowers for me? You shouldn't have." "Idiot," said Evan. Mary Cecelia didn't fail to notice that Julian was very relaxed. She Took this as a good sign. Julian bowed to indicate Mary Cecelia precede him, and then he shoved Maximus forward, making quite certain he was the caboose of the group. Smoke was trailing discretely behind him, followed by the even more Cautious Warg. "So, that the wine?" Evan asked Maximus. Maximus nodded and studied the label. "Julian assures me it's very good." Evan glanced back to see Julian trailing a bit behind them, looking Awfully innocent, his hands stuffed in his pockets.. Evan had noted Pumpkin's Sudden disappearance and now realized the spaniel was sticking close to Julian. And licking her chops. So was Warg. Smoke looked pretty happy too. "I see Warg is doing much better. You had a visitor, I understand, who helped him? I'm pleased to see it, indeed," Julian commented to Mitch who'd turned to see what was going on. "What was wrong with him, if you don't mind my asking?" Mary Cecelia asked. "Arthritis," Mitch answered. "He's pretty old, for a wolf. I found him as an orphaned cub over ten years ago. But someone came and healed him, so he's doing a lot better." "Tell her how you got Pumpkin," Evan suggested. Fortunately for Mitch, he was spared from answering. The group, animals Now positively in love with Julian, had arrived at the living room. Two men were rising from comfy-looking wing chairs by the large, ceramic-tiled fireplace. One man was tall, sandy-haired, good-looking. He had a wide, open smile on his face. The other was shorter, dark haired and dark eyed, with features that had narrowly missed being incredibly handsome and had settled for being merely striking. Both were in tuxedos, but the shorter man wore his as if he meant it. "Welcome to Oakwoods," said this man, in a British accent that practically graduated from Eton and played cricket. He came forward and took Mary Cecelia's hand, shaking it formally. "Gideon Redoak, at your service." "How do you do?" she said, bowing slightly at the hips and smiling. The taller man snorted, but said only, "Joshua Trevallion. Good to Finally meet you, Mary Cecelia." "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Josh. Thank you for inviting me." "Julian, Maximus, how good to see you both." "We're very glad to be here," Maximus offered as he passed the wine off to Mitch who bounded happily off with it. "And no blood on the floor... yet," Julian offered with a twinkle in his eye as he winked at Josh. Mary Cecelia looked over at Julian, not so much because of the comment as the way it was said. His own accent seemed far more proper upper crust English than what she was used to hearing. She wondered if he sounded that way in 1880s Bath. She thought he probably did. Josh motioned for everyone to sit but then noticed Evan's burden then. "What gorgeous flowers! Did you bring them?" He looked at Mary Cecelia. "Yes, I did. Spring hasn't quite hit in the mountains, yet, but I managed to find them. They're native to the part of New Mexico that we live in. By the way, Baron, thank you again for the rose. It was just gorgeous. My father grew roses when we lived in Indiana, and he asked me to ask you about your secret." "You're quite welcome," came the reply with a shy smile. "And please, call me Gideon. I'm afraid I can't reveal my secret, but perhaps you would like to see the conservatory?" "Thank you, that would be very nice, Gideon," she said. "And while you're doing that, I'll nip into the kitchen and put the finishing touches on dinner," Josh said. He disappeared towards the back of the house, while Gideon led his Guests down the side passage (for Oakwoods was somewhat "L" shaped) towards the conservatory. This was a breathtaking glassed-in room with a balconied gallery around the upper part where the second floor should have been. Roses by the hundreds, on stems and bushes, slept quietly in the Darkened room. The red ones looked rather depleted, but there were dozens of Other colours and every breed imaginable. A series of levers controlled the amount of sunlight allowed in during the day, all run by computer. "My goodness," Mary Cecelia said. "This is quite an operation." She stepped over to an Old English rosebush and sniffed at its light lavender bloom. "Mmm. That's just wonderful. Daddy tried to grow these, but he had trouble with aphids." She walked down an aisle and saw several tiny tea rose bushes, and sighed forlornly. "Every time I see the little tea roses, I think of my mother. She was the one that started my father on growing the roses." "I grow them in memory of someone I loved, as well," Gideon said. "I prefer the old English roses to these new hybrids, myself," Julian commented. "Nyree is particularly partial to Duchess de Brabant. It's a tea rose, Mary Cecelia. Very pale pink fading to white." "I like the old English roses as well," Gideon said. "But I've had no success with them in a conservatory, and the weather in Maine is too volatile for them to grow outdoors." "Gideon, this is wonderful," Maximus commented. as he studied a particularly fragrant deep pink rose. "I'm afraid I never have had much to do with gardening. It must be most ... satisfying, bringing something this beautiful to life." The Baron answered with one of his rare, shy smiles. "It is," he Answered simply. The unspoken "Especially for a vampire" hovered in the air. Mitch came in, hunting for his employer. He grinned widely at Mary Cecelia. "Dinner's ready!" the young werewolf announced. "Smells good, too." He led the way to the formal dining room, where the impressive mahogany table was beautifully set. The desert blooms Mary Cecelia had brought were artfully arranged in the center. The flatware was gold, the china delicate antique porcelain, the wine glasses Irish crystal. Evan was uncorking the wine that Maximus had brought as Joshua served the plates with a delicious-looking combination of chicken and fruit. Gideon himself pulled out the chair for Mary Cecelia. "I hope you don't mind sitting next to the head of the table," he smiled at her. "That's fine with me." Julian stepped in at that moment and took the chair from Gideon. "Allow me." He had chosen an unfortunate moment to do this, because as he was pulling the chair away from the table, Mary Cecelia was sitting where the seat had been. "What the...!" Mary Cecelia landed on her bottom with a thud. "OW!" "Oh, dear," Gideon said, kneeling down beside her. "Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm fine," she said, casting a baleful look at Julian, who had come around and was reaching down to help her to her feet. As she stood, she rubbed her backside. Nor had she missed the fact that Julian was struggling mightily not to laugh. "I'll know in the morning whether I've suffered a concussion." "Did you hit your head, darling?" Julian asked. his eyes dancing. Maximus was staring up at the ceiling looking as if he was choking on something. "No, darling, I simply fell on my butt. It's a joke, OK?" She sat down and pulled herself up to the table. "This looks beautiful, Josh, and smells delicious. I don't think I've had chicken done this way. What do you call it?" "Chicken Della Robia. I hope you like it." "I'm certain that I will." She smiled. "Josh," Julian commented as he picked up his glass, "I'm very glad you and Gideon found each other. May I toast your recent anniversary?" At Gideon's patrician nod and Josh's pleased one, Julian offered, "To Josh and Gideon. Like fine wine, a marriage of complex and complementary characters creating something unique and truly inspired.." "To Josh and Gideon," echoed Mary Cecelia, Mitch and Evan. Crystal glasses clinked together. "Thank you," Gideon murmured. "Let's EAT!" Mitch said. *** Laughter erupted around the table as Mitch finished another joke. Even Gideon was laughing, after setting down his wine glass so that he wouldn't spill the contents. Mary Cecelia had been careful not to notice what was in the opaque glasses that both Gideon and Josh had at their places, just as she was careful not to notice that they ate none of the chicken. It was a very relaxed meal, despite the formality of the setting and the garb of the diners. Evan was studying the bottle of wine Maximus had brought, now a dead soldier. "This was excellent, Maximus," the protector said. "The perfect accompaniment to the chicken." "And the chicken was a perfect complement to the wine," Mary Cecelia said. "My compliments to the chef. I'll have to suggest this to my father. This would go well on the menu at the restaurant." "The recipe is a secret," Josh said with a wink. "Oh, I wouldn't expect you to share it. Knowing the way Daddy works, I could describe it to him and he would adapt it to whatever was available. Do the same kind of thing using some of the local fruits. He's quite the wizard in the kitchen." "Wizards, wizards, everyone is a wizard these days," Julian commented, sitting back comfortably in his chair. He'd been mostly silent throughout the meal, attentive when spoken to but letting the others carry the conversation. "I think I shall close up shop, myself." "Close up shop?" asked Mary Cecelia. "Hmmm.. Yes. Hang up the mantle, as it were, dismiss my familiar, which I would do if I could do, and let Maximus tackle the save the world stuff. I shall retire to, oh, I don't know, perhaps to some unknown island and become a hermit again." "Again?" Josh blinked, not quite able to imagine Julian as a hermit. "Yes, again. But, of course, I shall appear on command," here he bowed to Mary Cecelia, "and, of course, at the behest of friends." "And you'll do what to entertain yourself?" Josh asked, unable to quite help himself. "I shall dance with the dolphins, paint abominable pictures, read romance novels and eat trail mix." "HA!" Mary Cecelia rolled her eyes and shook her head. "And then I suppose you're going to write terrible angst-ridden fiction and self absorbed poetry..." "'Twas a dark and stormy night... And just how did you know I was really Ezra Pound? But, you know, you haven't been subjected to me in my primitive phase. Just ask Maximus! I wear rags and let my hair and beard grow wild." "And why might you do this?" Gideon asked. "Hmmm... Because I've been wined and dined and treated to the best company I can possibly hope for the next two centuries? What has one to look forward to?" Mitch choked on his last sip of wine. Mary Cecelia rolled her eyes again. "I think I should have worn my hip boots and brought my shovel." Maximus grinned. "See what I have to put up with?" he asked. "No more than I do," said Evan, shaking his head and helping himself to another dinner roll from the basket. "Hey, you took the last one," Mitch complained. "There is dessert still to come," Josh reminded everyone. "I made something special for you, Mary Cecelia." "Ooh," she smiled at him. "I can't wait to see what it is. Julian's going to have to roll me out of here..." "You haven't lost your touch in the kitchen, old man," Julian said. "I'm still working on that spell I mentioned." Josh nodded. "Thanks, but it's okay. I wanted this, after all, I have to take the bad with the good." "I still want another dinner roll," Mitch grumbled. "Evan always eats the last one." "Or for... I'll get you another one," Evan snorted, rising to his feet. "You'll be very lucky if it's not aimed at your head, too. Honestly, Mitch, you..." he broke off mid-sentence, instantly on the alert. "Did you feel that?" he asked. "Someone's broken the wards." There hadn't been any need for him to ask. Everyone but a bewildered Mary Cecelia was on their feet, looking worried and prepared for trouble. Mary Cecelia's eyes went wide. "Julian? What's going on?" "The house is warded, meaning that ..." "I know what it means. I was married to a mage once upon a time. What's the house warded against?" "Warded against magic that is currently doing its best to get in." Then Julian added, his eyes alight, "How very kind of our hosts to even provide us amusement for this pleasant evening. I shall, of course, offer assistance in putting anything back together again that might accidentally be charred. I'd hate to think the hosts must be penalized for my amusement." "Julian, it's not funny." She sprang to her feet and turned to face each of the people there. "What do we do? What can I do?" "Mary Cecelia, it'll be all right. Sit down and relax..." "I can't. Not with everyone on tenterhooks like this. Come on, what can I do?" "At the moment, everyone can sit down and stay calm," said Evan, and his tone of voice indicated that he expected to be obeyed, even by his employer. "Stay here, all of you." He had already shed his dinner jacket and bow tie and was quietly stringing and loading a crossbow that nobody had seen him produce. "I'm going out to reconnoiter. We can't deal with the problem until we know what it is." "But what..." Mary Cecelia began, then realized she was talking to empty air. "I didn't even see him move," she said. "Is he another mage?" "Evan is a law onto himself," said Gideon, a shade grimly. "For the moment, we'd best take his advice." But he, too, was carefully removing his immaculate tuxedo and hanging it neatly on the back of his chair, followed by the matching silk vest and bow tie. Clad in only shirt sleeves and his tuxedo pants, the Baron looked completely different. The tailoring of his jacket had hidden how muscular his shoulders were. "It's also best," he said, aware of the eyes of everyone upon him, "to be ready for action." "I take it that wouldn't include me, Gideon?" Mary Cecelia asked, now feeling a bit put out that she was advised to leave her pistol at home. "Why wouldn't it?" he asked her in puzzlement. "We may need every hand." Julian grinned, and took a sip of his wine. He was draped in his chair, obviously casual about things. He hadn't bothered to remove his jacket, and no crunching up of sleeves for Julian. Maximus on the other hand, unbuttoned his jacket and loosened the unfamiliar and still uncomfortable tie. "What do you think broke the wards?" Mitch asked, pulling off his own dinner jacket. Gone was the joking, silly young man who behaved like a boy half his age. He, too, looked older, meaner, somehow more feral. Mary Cecelia realized that the young man's eyes had changed colour, to glowing amber, and that his stance had become more animalistic. Of course. He was a werewolf. Gideon shook his head. "Could be anything," he replied. He looked at Julian and Maximus, the two mages. "Do you have any clues?" he asked. "I've not sensed something like this for a very long time... I'm not sure. I am pretty sure what it isn't." "What isn't it?" Mary Cecelia asked. "Well, it ain't your average burglar." Mary Cecelia stuck her tongue out at him and he winked at her. "Look at the animals," said Maximus. Warg and Pumpkin were pressed up against the glass French doors at the very back of the dining room, staring out the window, hackles raised and neck ruffs on full alert. Smoke was pressed flat on the floor a little distance back, ears laid back against her head, all her fur on end. *Head hurts* the telepathic panther broadcast to all those who could hear. "Nobody else has come," said Mitch suddenly, and his voice sounded like he was forcing it past fangs. "You're right," Josh was looking even paler than a vampire should. This was his first emergency since he'd turned, and he didn't have a clue what to do. He'd been a mortal a lot longer than he'd been a vampire, and his instincts were telling him to get the hell out of Dodge. But he stayed. He also hadn't bothered to remove any clothing, not even his tie. "Who else should have come?" Mary Cecelia asked, wishing that Evan would come back. She didn't voice the question of what would happen if he didn't. These people were tense enough. "The rest of the Brotherhood should have been pounding down our door by now," Josh told her. "The wards are interactive all along the Cliff Road, so that we'd all know if somebody was in trouble. Obviously, our trespassers knew that and were able to tamper with the wards." "That's pretty sophisticated magic," Julian said. Pumpkin whined, drawing their attention back to those French doors. One of them slid open only wide enough to admit Evan, crossbow in hand. He saw six pairs of human and three pairs of animal eyes fixated on him, questions brimming. The protector set the crossbow down momentarily on the dining table. The dull iron quarrel swallowed the light from the chandelier. "Gideon," Evan addressed the master of Oakwoods. "We have fairies in the garden." Mary Cecelia bit down hard on the inside of her mouth. She knew from the looks on everyone's faces that the situation was serious, but Evan's dead-serious tone in declaring that the garden had been invaded by fairies struck her funny. She considered excusing herself to compose herself, but didn't think she could do it without laughing. Nobody else was laughing, though, not even Julian. "Secure the house," Gideon said, and there was something in his voice that was a new note. Mitch was already running towards the conservatory. Warg and Pumpkin sprang up, away from the French doors, and followed him. Smoke still lay, ears pressed back, flat on the floor. Evan stepped past her and touched a button on the wall near those vulnerable glass doors. A steel mesh screen came whirring down, protecting the inside of the house in case those fragile doors were broken open. Josh moved towards the nearest phone, though the expression on his face said he didn't hold out any hope it was working. He picked it up, and shook his head. Mary Cecelia went for her purse, which was under the table. "Here, try this," she said, pressing the "ON" button and handing it to him. Josh took the phone, pressed in a number, and pressed the send button. He listened for a second, then handed it back to her. "Out of range," he said. The lights flickered, adding a weird disco feeling to the dining room. "Flashlights," said Evan. "I'll get them," Maximus offered, "if you tell me where." "Closet under the stairs," came the reply from the bodyguard. "There are weapons downstairs I can pass out, but I don't want to be caught on those stairs if the power goes. Not even Smoke can see in pitch blackness, and the generator only powers absolutely necessary light." On and off, on and off, the strobe lighting was starting to get on everyone's nerves. It effectively destroyed any chance of e-mailing out for help and hoping that one of the Brotherhood was on-line. The odds of anyone looking out their window and noticing that Oakwoods was having its own light show were slim; likely there was a glamour laid on the Cliff Road tonight. They were alone against whatever was invading. "Is it really fairies?" Mary Cecelia managed to ask. "Not little two-inch high sprites with butterfly wings," Evan replied, nodding as Mitch came back in and reported that the conservatory was secured. "This is a full-scale invasion by the Fey. The Twyleth Teg." "The WHAT?" Mary Cecelia was incredulous. "We'll explain later," Julian said. "What do you think they want?" Mitch asked. "They've never bothered us before." "I don't know," Evan answered, taking the flashlight that the burdened-down Maximus handed him. "I didn't get close enough to ask. I just saw what they were and got back here." "I know what they're here for," said Gideon. Everyone looked at him. His face was hard and set, and the tips of his fangs were showing. "What?" someone, or several someones, asked. "I think the original owners have come to claim Calvin back." "In which case," came a deadly quiet voice, "it is obvious Calvin has no desire to go back to them." Julian was still sitting at the table, but any evidence of making light of the situation was gone from his face. Mary Cecelia looked at him, with a frown. "Obvious," he replied to her unstated question. "If he'd been willing to go with them, they'd have been polite about things, instead of coming here with every evidence of taking Calvin against his will; not to mention Gideon's leave." Julian added, in that same calm and totally rational voice, "I believe they have tried to separate you from any magical support from the Brotherhood. I expect they feel that will give them an advantage and allow them to more easily control the situation. I'm also pretty sure they don't realize there just happen to be two mages here visiting. Their ignorance of that gives us the advantage." Julian stood then and met Gideon's eyes. "Gideon, I assume you've never bothered to prepare the barn for defense, as you obviously have this house. I therefore suggest I magically move Calvin here where we can protect him. I appreciate he probably won't like me just picking him up and moving him magically, but I expect he will calm down once he understands the situation. Would you like me to try this?" Gideon didn't ask how Julian would transport a seventeen hand high monster stallion out of a stone stable and into a secured house, passing through some not insubstantial walls on the way. If mages didn't ask him how vampirism worked, he didn't ask them how magic worked. So far, it had been an excellent policy. "Do so," he said. "Who wants to come down and help with the weapons?" Evan asked. "I'd like to, if I may," Mary Cecelia volunteered. "Do you have guns?" "Yes, but we don't want those. Bullets only make them mad. We need steel and iron, edged weapons or even a crowbar. Damn Calvin for not allowing himself to be shoed." "Well, it's not really his fault that he's as Fey as the ones trying to get him back," Maximus pointed out. "I'll come, too, Evan," said Mitch. "Right. Three of us is enough. The rest of you, stay put in the dining room until we come back; that way I know where everyone is. Though if you really have to use it, there's a bathroom just the other side of these stairs. But don't set a foot anywhere else in the house or go outside." He waited until he had nods from everyone, and then flicked on his flashlight and waved Mary Cecelia and Mitch ahead of him down the stairs. "Oh, Evan?" Julian commented just before he followed the other two down he stairs. Once Evan met his eyes, Julian grinned and commented, "Watch out for that little redhead. I'd bet money on her against either of you two guys. Or me." Evan nodded and hurried down behind the others. The basement of Oakwoods was eerie. The lights had gone off with a permanent-sounding "click" when the threesome had been halfway down the stairs, but none of them had faltered. At the bottom of the stairs there was a passage that ran the length of the house both ways. Straight ahead were assorted rooms, to the left was the gigantic furnace at the end of a long passage... it would be right under the conservatory. Down that passage there was also what appeared to be a cell with oddly shimmering bars. Mitch could not quite suppress a shudder at the sight of it. Mary Cecelia looked at the young man beside her. His eyes were amber. She was fairly certain they'd been blue earlier. And were his ears now above his hairline and pointed? They went the other way, down the hall with all the rooms. Cold storage. Regular storage. Laundry. And here, on the right-hand side just before what appeared to be a games room with a billiards table and a large TV among other furniture, Evan paused and opened a door. Mats on the roughly-poured concrete floor. Weights, skipping ropes, boxing gloves, all the paraphernalia of exercise and fitness littered the room. There were several securely locked cupboards, high up. "We have friends with kids," Evan explained. "They get everywhere, and I make sure there's no chance in hell they can get any of the weapons." He unlocked one cupboard. Swords, knives, daggers, dirks, bodkins... if it had an edge, it was in this cupboard. Evan quietly handed out a selection. He unlocked another cupboard, after making sure the first one was secured again, and revealed several very serious-looking crossbows and an assortment of quarrels. He studied Mary Cecelia for a moment. "Can you fire a crossbow?" he asked. "I can't say as I've ever tried, Evan, but I've handled a bow and arrow before, and I believe that the principles are the same. Aim higher than you want to hit and all that. And I can cope with the recoil of a 30-.06 shotgun and an M-1 rifle, so I think I'll be all right." She took the crossbow from Evan and lined up along the sights. "An M-1 rifle, Mary Cecelia?" Evan asked. She smiled sweetly. "Daddy's got a pretty good sized arsenal himself." *** Mages are not physicists. Luckily. If they were they might begin to believe they can't do certain things. Things like move a monster stallion of fairy extraction from a stone stable into a stone house. The mage Julian Vyse had learned, many, many years ago, that reality was not all it was cracked up to be. His own existence being one of the many nails in its coffin. His ability to manipulate time was another one of those nails, as was his ability to, well, not create or uncreate matter, but his ability to make it sort of change. At least change enough that molecules and atoms could pass in the night without even having to say hello. Of course, there were inherent difficulties in moving a very angry stallion, one who was probably, if he'd be honest, would not be comfortable with the whole idea of being picked up and moved not of his own volition.. Granted he'd flown before through the auspices of the fairies, but when your atoms and molecules not to mention your family jewels were folded, spindled and mutilated so you could worm through stone walls, well, this was not exactly the same thing, now, was it? At any rate, Gideon stood as Julian had asked him to, awaiting the arrival of Calvin. He stood in the middle of the living room of his home, and closed his eyes, wanting to remember it as it was now, _before_ Calvin demolished it. He did, Gideon that is, acknowledge, somewhat gratefully, that the mage was doing him a favour. Still, he liked his manor to be just so, and he was fully cognizant that very soon it wouldn't be _just so_. He sighed. Then, suddenly, he was too busy to notice. For, in front of him, his eyes red, his feet splayed out, his nostrils flaring, stood Calvin. A rather slender blond mage was clinging, for all he was worth, to Calvin's mane, but the moment the horse fully materialized the mage let go of that mane and landed on the carpeting, ducking and rolling well away from any hooves that might fly in his general direction. "Um," Julian offered from where he'd landed behind the couch, "he's not happy." "I noticed." Gideon's tone would have left the Atlantic Ocean looking like the Sahara. Then his eyes softened--though he would have denied this--and his hand reached for the stallion's muzzle. "Steady, Calvin," he crooned to his horse. "Steady." And, to the sheer astonishment of all those watching, Calvin steadied. Slowly his nostrils unflared, and he stood swishing his tail back and forth, endangering the dishes on the sideboard. His head still tossed from time to time, but his ears were pricked forward now instead of flat back against his skull. He didn't look like a tame saddle horse, by any means, but at least he no longer resembled something straight from Hell. "Doesn't look like he wants to go back to the Fey," Maximus remarked. The three adventurers returned from the cellar, carrying bundles of weapons. Evan made a stockpile on the dining table (with only a wince of protest from his employer) and told people to help themselves to whatever took their fancy. He himself loaded up with crossbow and quarrels, a long sword and a couple of knives. Julian, keeping well clear of Calvin, chose a rapier. Evan blinked as Julian tested, expertly and quickly, its balance in his hand. He also selected a bowie knife which he thrust under his belt. (Evan wondered, but only for a moment, when Julian's clothing had changed from black-tie formal wear to leather pants and jerkin, not to mention well-worn and well-tended boots. Mages....) Maximus seemed a bit unsure. He, obviously, was no military man. Still, he selected a light sword and a crossbow and examined the crossbow as if he knew at least how the thing worked, and examined the quarrels with care. He'd fight, bravely, even if not necessarily expertly. Mary Cecelia fished a scrunch out of her purse and pulled her shoulder length red hair back into a ponytail. She rolled up the sleeves of her otherwise formal dress, revealing her heavily freckled arms and the harp-and-shamrock tattoo on her upper arm, put on a pair of silver-framed aviator glasses, then picked up the crossbow that she had selected and tested the sights. Evan stepped up behind her and reached around her to take the crossbow. "You know how to arm this, right?" She turned and smiled up to him. "Turn the crank, right?" "Right, and the quarrel..." "Fits into the groove like this?" She demonstrated for him the turning of the crank and the loading of the quarrel. He watched, surprised at the strength in the tiny woman's arms. "You've done this before, haven't you?" "No, but the principle is the same as with a longbow, a slingshot or a catapult." "You've never used a catapult...!" "Oh? I made one once for Latin class. Learned all about them." She stepped toward the end of the table and picked up a knife, pulled up her skirt and fastened the scabbard around her thigh. Evan turned his head so that she wouldn't see that he was practically drooling. Whoa. Unfortunately for him, his eyes met Mitch's. The werewolf was still mostly human, but the grin he gave Evan was pure wolf. Evan sighed. He was in for teasing. Julian caught sight of his date. "Darling, what is it that they say about girls in glasses?" "They're trouble." She grinned. "But you knew that." "And," Julian added, "sexy as all hell." "Oh, yeah, that too." She couldn't help but notice the apparent effect she had on Evan; she wondered if the effect was as strong on her date. Joshua, like Maximus, was no fighter. He hesitated over the array of weapons. To him, a weapon was something to be auctioned off for its value to collectors. But, he too knew he would have to fight to defend Oakwoods and Calvin, and would fight bravely if with no expertise. Too bad he couldn't challenge the elves to a game of tennis. He chose a broadsword on the principle that anything long with two cutting edges and a point would do damage even in unskilled hands. At Evan's insistence, he also took a knife in case he lost the sword. Gideon chose a broadsword, as well, and a couple of knives. He also had the fact that he was a vampire going for him; he had superior strength to the elves and their weapons couldn't do much damage to him. Mitch chose no weapon at all. He was stripping off his clothes, revealing a body that no longer looked fully human. He was covered in gray fur and rapidly metamorphosing; muscles stretching and warping, bones rearranging, fingers and toes turning into canine digits. It looked painful and none of the others could watch. They all turned away to discuss strategy. "It's going to be basic hack and slash," Evan said, doing his best to ignore the distressing sounds behind his back. "Whatever you do, don't let them shoot you with arrows. Elfshot is terrible stuff; get wounded with it, and you'll be off dancing with them. Permanently. If you get captured, we'll do our best to rescue you, but if it looks hopeless..." he shrugged, unable to say it, but the unspoken was obvious. "We'd be better off dead," said Maximus flatly. "Well, yes," Evan nodded. "Still," Julian said lightly, "we're a formidable group of fellows and a gal. With luck the fairies will decide dancing in the moonlight is far superior to dying in it, once they realize they've underestimated us." "Uh huh," Mary Cecelia agreed, wondering about elfshot and what they meant about dancing with the fairies. It made her all the more anxious to get started. "So? What's the deal? Take no prisoners, right? Leave six for pallbearers? Let's get this show on the road.." Evan nodded tightly. "It's time," he agreed. "We'll go out the back door, one at a time. Snug up against the wall, weapons ready, until we're all out. Chances are that they'll attack at once, so get down. Those with crossbows start firing to cover the rest of us. After we're all out, we attack. If you see me fall, retreat and regroup; Julian's in charge if I go down." He looked at the blond mage, who nodded. He risked a look at Gideon, but the Baron also nodded. He had never led armies and would defer to someone with expertise. A low growl made Mary Cecelia, the only human in the room, look beyond Evan to where a large gray wolf, much larger than a natural wolf, stood in the living room. Calvin had backed well away from this creature, and the other animals were cowering under the table. Feral amber eyes glowered up at Evan, plainly saying "Get on with it, man!" "Right," the Nameless One said. He moved to the back door. "I'll go first, then Mary Cecelia; we'll provide crossbow coverage. The rest of you suit yourselves as to what order you take; just remember one at a time." He didn't wait for questions, objections or even compliance, but threw the door open and dashed out into the night, crossbow ready. Mary Cecelia followed behind. She saw Evan crouched down by the back wall of the house and joined him. Only silence had met their advent from the house. Julian came next, sword drawn, followed closely by a bounding wolf. Maximus, Gideon and Josh all appeared, the latter carefully closing the door behind him. To the north of their position, some bushes stirred. The night was windless; not even the Atlantic could be heard. "That will just be a distraction," Evan said in a low voice. "Don't waste ammunition. Wait 'til they attack." He was right. It was not from those bushes that the attack came, but from up under the lip of the cliff and around the side of the house. Where Evan had gone to the right as he exited the door into the garden, Julian had gone to the left, ensuring two good swordsmen were at either extremity of their defensive line. So, when the elves exploded around the corner to Julian's left, he was ready for them, and they'd have to get past him to engage the others fully. Maximus was not far back and as Julian stepped away from the wall to give himself more room for the free use of his rapier, Maximus could stand with one side protected against the wall of the house. Julian, out of the corner of his eye, saw swords flashing in the moonlight, and fairy-tale creatures swarming over the cliff wall as well as coming round the side of the house. He didn't bother to count, it was basic slash and hack, as fast as you could move your arm - which was why he'd chosen the lighter rapier - faster off the mark. His knife in his left hand, the rapier in his right, all moving rhythmically as he gave ground slowly and methodically. Then he heard the twang of a crossbow and saw a shape fall just behind and on his exposed side. A wolfish roar and gurgle marked Mitch's engagement with one of the fairy folk, and he took a second to look round at the layout of their forces. So far so good, but how long they could stand against a far larger force was a very big question. But he put that thought aside, reserved a small part of his brain to try to keep a close eye on Mary Cecelia should she be in danger of being taken, and poured his personal power into his sword arm. Lift, slash, lean into the thrust, protect with the knife, over and over, not worrying much about lethal blows as any nick to a fairy with the blood metal iron was as good as a deep slash. Meanwhile, behind him, Mary Cecelia was lining up her first shot. "Right between the eyes," she said, and squeezed the trigger of the crossbow. A scream let her know that the quarrel had found its mark. "You don't have to be quite that accurate," Evan called to her. "The slightest contact with iron will knock them out." "Oh, really?" She had the crossbow braced between her chest and the rock she was standing behind and was cranking with her right hand while reaching for another quarrel with the left. "Maybe I can take a couple of them out with one." "DUCK!" Evan yelled. She fell to her knees as a tiny arrow flew over her head, barely missing her. "Thanks, Evan," she said, recovering at last. She turned and saw a large white duck standing beside her. "AFLAC," the duck said. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She climbed to her feet, holding the loaded crossbow above her head. She looked and saw two pointy-eared men aiming their longbows at her. "You two guys are so dead," she said. She lined up her shot and fired. The quarrel nicked one of them in the neck, skimmed the head of the second and lodged itself in the head of a third who had appeared from around a tree. She dropped to one knee behind the rock as the arrows of the now disabled assailants flew harmlessly around her. "I'm impressed," Evan said. "That's some fancy shooting there." "Why, thank you very much," she drawled, Annie Oakley style. Gideon's broadsword was moving with machine-like precision. He wasn't wasting time trying for killing blows; he knew from previous experience that the least touch of steel would kill elves. He had the advantage of muscles that never tired. Josh, slightly to his left, was doing his best; but it was evident that the antique broker was no fighter. He was flailing the broadsword as if it was a mace and chain, swinging it around theatrically. "Oh, Lord," Evan rolled his eyes. "Who let him watch 'Braveheart'?" Still, Josh was clearing away some of the less cautious elves and didn't seem to be drawing any more fire than the rest of the defenders of Oakwoods. Mitch's long, furry silver body leapt here and there, teeth snapping, fast enough to dodge the arrows. The cliff edge was slick with fey blood, and the werewolf's claws were scrabbling for purchase on the suddenly treacherous ground. It happened fast. A push. A yelp. "Mitch!" Josh yelled hoarsely. Julian heard, somehow, that yelp. He didn't hear the name that was called out, but knew one of his was in trouble. So, he reacted, totally instinctively. Without regard for the fact that he would be entirely exposed, without regard for any consequences, or perhaps, more truthfully, trusting in instincts that this was the right decision at the moment, he committed to act. His right arm, which had been wielding a rapier defending him against a fey, whirled toward the sound. He saw the cliff and knew what must have happened. He fell to his knees, the better to connect with the earth and its power. He closed his eyes, reached, and called out to whatever the hell it was that fuelled his magick. He sucked up power and aimed it through that rapier toward the cliff. The others, both friend and foe, would only see him fall as if defeated, his head dropped forward but his arm out-flung. Then, within an instant, a silver stream of pure energy was pouring out the end of the rapier toward the cliff. Julian couldn't do much more than just direct it. He hoped it would reach his fallen comrade fast enough that he could grab hold and rescue himself, or that someone else might use the rope of energy to save him. Julian could sense nothing around him, his entire being focused on that lifeline offering - except for one tiny bare thought, and that was surprise. Surprise that he actually had a regret. For, he knew he was probably killing himself, leaving himself undefended and vulnerable. Ironic, in that he'd been willing enough to welcome death for centuries. And yet, here he was, opening himself to it with a vengeance, and he was almost sorry. A spark of irony was his last conscious thought. To die and probably to fail. Yet again. Mary Cecelia poked her head up slowly from behind the rock, crossbow in hand, and looked around just in time to see Julian fall over from his exertion. She dropped back down behind the rock and discovered that she wasn't alone. One of the Fae was coming up behind her, longbow drawn. "You little.!" She swung her leg up and kicked her assailant's bow arm away, then, as his arrow flew away, she grabbed him by the collar and swung her forehead into the bridge of his nose as she planted her knee into his groin. As he fell, she went for her knife and stuck it in the back of his neck. With a scream, he perished. She looked down at her dress. "Damn it! This dress cost a fortune. Oh, well, easy come, easy go." She looked down at her assailant and had an idea. "Evan!" she called. "Yes?" "Unzip me, would you?" "Sure thing." But despite the perfunctory attempt to keep his hand in sex-wise, Evan was strictly business. He was keeping an eye on Julian, on Josh and on Gideon. Julian seemed to be doing his best under the circumstances and he was a mage. It was Josh that needed a bit of help. Gideon, Evan noted with a touch of pride in his training, was doing fine. "Look, I'm going to put this guy's clothes on and go out and get Julian before they do. Help me get this guy's clothes off." She fell to her knees and got the fairy's jerkin off, stood up, pulled her dress up over her head and tossed it on the ground. As she smoothed the jerkin over her bra, Evan got busy taking the little man's hose off, trying hard not to look at the half-naked redheaded woman who was standing over him. He needed to concentrate on business. He tossed them up to her and she stepped into them in one motion, then stepped into the fairy's moccasins. She grabbed the hat that lay at her feet and tucked her hair under it, then held her arms apart. "How do I look?" "Rrrowl." She grabbed the fairy's weapons and the knife she had been wearing, kissed Evan on the cheek, and said, "Wish me luck." Before he could reply, she slipped around the rock and made her way toward Julian. Josh was trying to fight his way to the cliff edge to get to Mitch. He had realized that Julian didn't know _who_ had gone over, because if he did, he wouldn't have used a rope that a werewolf couldn't grab. Mitch didn't happen to have opposable thumbs at the moment, unless the shock of going over had made him turn back. So while Gideon was hacking and slashing (and what a sight his normally gentle lover was, swinging that broadsword and covered in elf blood) at the elves, Evan and Mary Cecelia were playing dress-up and Julian was concentrating on his magical rope; Josh was making his way to the cliff. An elf sprang in his way, bronze knife flashing. Josh whacked him away, his dander up since a loved one was in danger. The broadsword would be a hindrance going down that magical rope. He dropped it in the sure knowledge that the foe could not use it. He grabbed hold of the shining stream of magic and used it to rappel slowly over the edge of the cliff. Luckily for Mitch, this was not a sheer drop to the Atlantic. A series of rough steps had been hewn out of the cliff many years ago, and the Brotherhood saw that these were maintained since they'd proven useful on more than one occasion. Mitch had fallen onto a ledge near these steps. Josh, hanging onto the rope, eased his way down the stairs and drew closer to the werewolf, who was struggling to rise. It wasn't a pretty sight, because the fall had made Mitch instinctively attempt to transform back to human but the blow of landing on the ledge had more or less shocked him back again. He was half wolf, half human, feral amber eyes glowing, and his left leg, which still had a paw, at an angle no human or lupine leg should assume. He growled at Josh. "Easy, easy," Josh said, trying not to make any sudden moves. This was harder than it seemed, dangling from a magical rope twenty feet down a cliff with almost nothing but the Atlantic to break a slip of the hands. "Gaylord Algernon Pritchard, I summon thee. Gaylord Algernon Pritchard, I abjure thee. Gaylord Algernon Pritchard, I command thee. Come back!" And the man lying on the ledge, left leg definitely broken, was all man. Stark naked, in pain and confused, but human. Josh managed to squeeze onto the ledge beside him and tie the magical rope around Mitch's waist. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt," he said to the werewolf, "but there's no choice. JULIAN! Got him! Haul up if you can!" Mary Cecelia heard Josh shouting from the cliff, and turned her attention to Julian. "He looks like he needs help," she said under her breath, and dashed toward him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see several of the Fae running toward him as well. "I've got to draw them away," she said to herself. She stuck two fingers into her mouth and whistled loudly, drawing their attention. They looked up, and she motioned them toward the rocks where she and Evan had been standing. They abruptly changed course and headed in that direction. She turned and gave the "thumbs up" sign to Evan, who promptly armed his crossbow and took them out. She reached Julian, who appeared to be unconscious but holding fast to the magic rope. She got in front of him and grabbed hold of the rope, and leaned back, throwing her entire 100 pounds at the task of hauling Mitch up from the cliff. Just as she gave it her all, even if nothing much happened, she nearly lost her grip as an explosion behind her made her lose concentration. Through a haze of smoke, she could see Maximus striding toward her. He was Maximus, but he wasn't _quite_ Maximus. He walked differently, his stride far more that of a military man. Even his face was different. He wore a smirk she didn't think he was capable of making. He strode up to her and grabbed hold of the rope beside Mary Cecelia. "Where the hell have you been?" She hesitated a moment, wasting a second or two considering if Maximus might have been struck by a fairy's arrow and turned into... Well, he was helping wasn't he? "Pull, you silly wench," Maximus said to her without easing up on his own grip. "Silly wench, huh?" She pulled with all of her might and took a step back toward him. "I ad infernum, filius canis!" He opened his mouth to say something, but she stopped him, her green eyes ablaze. "Shut up and pull." Between the two of them they were able to haul Mitch up the slope. Maximus was letting out a steady stream of colourful epithets, most of which were said in Latin. She giggled as she remembered her second year Latin class at Mother Connelly, when a wizened Jesuit, Father Zimecki, had taught the girls how to "cuss" in Latin. Julian moaned, and Maximus commented, "Lover, you just keep that rope intact. We'll handle the rest." "Lover? Now I've heard everything," Mary Cecelia thought to herself. "Guess I should tell Lana about that when I get back. If I get back, that is." Mitch's poor naked body cleared the edge of the cliff then, and he pulled himself together enough to throw it back down to help Josh hurry his climb. Evan's constant coverage with his deadly accurate crossbow kept all Fae well away from both Mitch and a bedraggled Josh as he cleared the cliff edge too. "Enough," Maximus said to Julian, who let the magick rope dissolve. He was obviously still weak but was pulling himself together, struggling to stand. Maximus leaned down, hauled Julian upright and kissed him hard on the lips. Mary Cecelia dashed toward Josh and Mitch, ignoring the interplay between Julian and Maximus. Josh, his evening clothes decidedly the worse for wear, looked around for Gideon while comforting Mitch. Mary Cecelia, arriving at their side, knelt down beside them. "That leg looks nasty," she said. "We're going to have to splint it pretty quickly, and he's going to need a doctor." "No doctor," Josh said. "We'll get other help soon, but no doctors." Before Mary Cecelia could question this, Mitch began to groan; she put her hand on his forehead and stroked it gently. "It's OK, Mitch, we're going to take care of you. You'll be good as new. We just have to take care of your leg." She sat back on her heels and looked over his leg, noting the odd angle of his foot. "Josh, come around over here, and when I tell you, roll him real slightly that way." Josh did as she instructed. She determined how she needed to move Mitch's leg, and moved around by his foot. "OK, Josh, get ready. GO!" A roar escaped from Mitch as Josh pushed him up on one side and Mary Cecelia rolled his leg around. "OK, let him down slowly," she ordered. "That hurt!" Mitch snarled. The Baron and Evan were currently the only ones fighting, Evan reloading and firing his crossbow like an automaton and Gideon matching swords with a somewhat taller and more muscular than usual elf. The rest of the Fae had backed off a bit, both because of the crossbow fire from the relentless Evan and because they had seen which of their number was fighting. "Baron Redoak," nodded the tall elf, his long black hair tied back out of his way with a strip of rawhide. "Lord," Gideon replied, not letting down his guard and effortlessly swinging his sword to meet the elf's. "I'm afraid I don't know which Lord you are, terribly sorry." "Do you not?"" the elf laughed, trying for a blow to the baronial family jewels. "I am the rightful owner of the beast you have so irreverently named Calvin." "Indeed? I must say that I was under the impression that Calvin could not be owned." Gideon avoided the low blow with a swift move Evan had taught him and counterattacked with a murderous swing at the unnamed elf lord's head. The head easily ducked. "The horse is mine, vampire! Give him back to me!" The elf sword met the broadsword again and again, sparks flying across the night sky. "How easily you drop the veneer of civilization, milord," Gideon chastised him. "The horse is not mine to give. He chooses to stay here. You cannot take him by force of will, nor of arms." "HE IS MINE!" The elf sword hacked and slashed with the power of a maniac behind it. "Calvin is his own," Gideon replied calmly, even though that blade had just sliced into his shoulder. He dropped the broadsword, noting with pleasure how the elf jumped back out of the way of falling iron, and drew one of the long knives he'd taken. With his uninjured arm, he slipped up past the elf lord's guard and stabbed his opponent straight in the kidney. The elf lord shrieked as his entrails followed the path of that deadly steel blade, but the shriek was cut off by nearly instant death. An appalled silence struck the remaining Fae as they watched their lord fall. And as suddenly as they had come, they were gone. The bodies of their fallen were left draped indecorously around the back "garden" of Oakwoods (mostly stone). The causalities on the side of the defenders were Julian's strength, Mitch's leg, Gideon's shoulder and Mary Cecelia's clothes. Blood now slowly seeping between the fingers he'd clamped over the wound in his shoulder, Gideon made his way back to the others. The last two of the company finally arrived Julian, breathing hard and leaning heavily on Maximus. Maximus's face was red and his eyes were on the ground. Julian looked furious. Once Mary Cecelia had sat back from working on Mitch, Maximus, turning even redder, finally said, "Mary Cecelia." When she looked at him he continued, "I most sincerely apologize. I was... Not exactly in command of my, er, senses." "Bitch," Julian muttered. As the others looked at them, Maximus explained, "When I saw Julian fall, I uh, panicked. And in the, uh, in the heat of the moment, I, uh, accidentally channeled Cybele." Gideon, not knowing who Cybele was or what exactly had happened on the edge of the cliff (remember, he had been fighting the Fae in a different part of the backyard), saw his naked young assistant lying on the ground, groaning with pain. "Mitch?" he asked, crouching down beside the werewolf. "He went over the cliff, Gideon," Josh said, putting a hand on his lover's unwounded shoulder. "He landed on that ledge down there near the stairs and broke his leg." "He's in pretty serious pain, Gideon," Mary Cecelia said. "I'm figuring a compound fracture of the tibia and fibula. We're going to need to get help." "Oh, my poor boy," Gideon replied. "But I was told no doctors?" Mary Cecelia looked questioningly at Josh. "X-rays are... unadvisable," Josh answered. "Let alone blood tests and who knows what else they'd do to him." "Probably call a vet," Evan put in. "Never mind. I think I know what he'd be up against. You should have seen the looks on their faces when they saw my viral titers after I had Patsy." The looks of general confusion on everyone's faces told her that maybe she shouldn't have said anything. "It's one of those nurse things. Kind of a difficult thing to explain." "Help will be coming soon," Josh assured both Mitch and Mary Cecelia. Just then, the lights in Oakwoods came blazing back on. Maximus had been staring down the cliff's edge towards the distant lights of Fletcherville rather than look at Julian, and he said "Someone's running up the path." At the same time, the telephone could be heard shrilly summoning the occupants to come back into the house. Mitch raised his head painfully. "Boss," he coughed weakly, a smile trying to tug at his lips, "Phone." Gideon stood up and looked down the cliff at the running figure, then back at the house, where the phone continued to ring. "Fuck it," he said, quite clearly. Thus it was, when Ray Griffin, Michael Fairlawn and Francis Calvert arrived, being the closest members of the Brotherhood, they found a disheveled and bloody group of seven people in the back of Oakwoods, laughing their heads off. Hasty introductions were made as the three new arrivals looked in disbelief at the chaos. Mitch, of course, was their first concern. He was thusly, gently as possible, carried into the house and installed in splendour (well, he was a hero, wasn't he?) and made as comfortable as possible. Michael set to work and the others left them to it. Calvin, still standing patiently where they'd left him, eyed the bloody, disheveled, yet triumphant battle company with amused contempt as sustaining drinks were poured for those who needed them. "Michael's pretty busy with Mitch," Josh said as he passed Gideon a brandy. "You should let Mary Cecelia look at your shoulder." "It's nothing," Gideon said, twisting to show his lover that the wound had already closed. Mary Cecelia, hearing her name and recalling that Gideon had been bleeding earlier, came over anyway to have a look. "Now that's quick healing!" she said, poking at the mended flesh. "Being undead has some advantages," Gideon said wryly. Julian, under cover of everyone's high spirits, sank into a chair. He still looked a bit green about the gills. Maximus brought him a brandy. Julian raised an eyebrow, then saluted his friend but said nothing further regarding the short, but still irritating unpleasantness of earlier (Cybele's visit, of course. The battle had been nothing _but_ pleasant). Mary Cecelia, seeing Julian, walked over. He grinned up at her and pulled her down to sit in his lap. He reached out and gently pushed back some wild strands of fiery-coloured hair from off her face. "Hey," he said. "Hey, back," she responded. "Never say I take you any place boring." She grinned. "Goddess, you were magnificent. And you look bloody smashing." She looked down at herself. She was still dressed in the elvish clothing. It was filthy and gory and torn in places. She didn't dare think to hard about what her makeup must look like, and her hair was a mare's nest. She was sweaty, she knew her face was still red from the excitement, not to mention the elation and exercise. "Julian, you're seriously deranged." He laughed aloud. "I think maybe I ought to magick you up a new dress before I take you home, though. What do you think?" She kissed him. "It's up to you, sweetie. I'm getting to like this look, though. It'd be difficult to explain to Daddy...hey, maybe something like what I came in?" "So, what the hell happened here, anyway?" Ray Griffin asked, his falcon Andrei settling down on his shoulder, much to Smoke's consternation. The Oakwoods animals had gathered round now that the trouble was over. Francis had gone out to look in the backyard, and came back into the house. "There were a bunch of dead guys out there when we came, right?" he asked. "Right," Gideon nodded, one eyebrow rising. "They're gone," said the blond vampire. "Griffin's Magical Disposal, at your service," murmured the black-clad mage, sinking into a chair and stroking Andrei. "But what were they doing here in the first place?" "Ask Calvin," Julian offered. Calvin snickered. He was obviously laughing at all of them. Maximus walked over to Ray then. "Well, it seems they wanted Calvin. He didn't wish to go with them, so there you have it." "That pretty much sums it up, Ray," Evan said, passing a tumbler of neat Scotch to the scarred mage. "The Fae came for Calvin." "Nobody got elfshot, did they?" Ray asked. "No, luckily; I think Gideon's the only one who actually got wounded by a Fae weapon, and that was a sword." "Josh," Julian commented to his host, "I don't suppose there's hope for food." "Food? Did someone say food?" Mary Cecelia brightened, green eyes dancing. "Yes. Some of us build up an appetite whilst we're saving the world as we know it." Josh rose to his feet, setting down his own glass of Scotch. "I can rustle something up," he said. "But it's not going to be anything gourmet." "As long as it's edible," Julian said. "Come along, then, Evan, let's feed these people." Josh headed for the kitchen, Evan in tow. They stopped at the couch where Mitch had been installed, with Michael bending over the broken leg. The air arced green where the Druid's hands moved, and smelt of magic. "Can I get you anything, Michael?" Josh asked softly, fearful of breaking the ancient Druid's concentration. Michael shook his head. "I'll need a drink when I'm done," he said, "but not right now." He spared the tall vampire and the muscled Nameless One a look of quick compassion. "Mitch will be fine in no time. He'll need to rest and stay off that leg for a couple of days, but he'll be up and tormenting you again very soon." "Great," Evan rolled his eyes, but fooled no-one. Josh smiled, and continued on his way to the kitchen. He returned soon with plates of sandwiches balanced in Evan's arms and made the bodyguard pass them around. "Thank you all for your help tonight," Gideon looked at his dinner guests as they dug into the food. "This wasn't quite what I'd envisioned when I invited you, I hope you know." "It was a lot more fun than Charades," Mary Cecelia laughed.