VVVVV
Consequences Part Six: Found and Lost (1/3)
a Gargoyles story
by Merlin Missy
Copyright 2005
PG-15
VVVVV

Disney and Buena Vista Television own the characters, situations, and
such. Sixth story in the "Consequences" series. If you haven't read
the others, you're going to be lost. If you haven't read the others
recently, you're probably still going to be lost. Special thanks to
Constance for the superfast and supercool beta. Additional thanks to
Kimberly T, without whom this really really wouldn't have been
finished.

Content warning: non-con. (Thailog and Delilah. If that's a pairing
that squicks you as much as it does me, you may want to take a pass.
There are reasons I put off writing this story.)

VVVVV

"Greatness," wrote Thailog, "is not something which is thrust upon
one, nor something granted like an inheritance. Greatness is
something every man must achieve for himself, something for which
he must bite and claw every hour."

He paused, then erased the last sentence. "Greatness is that for which
he must toil every day, never allowing himself surcease from the
struggle. The sweet fruition of earthly greatness is the only true goal
in man's existence. All else is vain posturing, and fulfillment of
bestial desires."

Thailog glanced over from his desk to where Delilah sat quietly on
the floor. With some reluctance, he had allowed her a doll.
Soundlessly, she was speaking to it, moving her lips and her hands,
pausing a moment to listen to its equally silent response. Her face
broke into a grin at whatever the doll said.

"There are steps to greatness," he continued, the words appearing
before him on the faintly glowing screen. "The most vital is also the
most primal. No man can be great while standing in another's
shadow, and the shadow which will forever cover his is that of his
father.

"To truly achieve greatness, every man must kill his father.

"Often, this is accomplished financially, spiritually, or
psychologically. Ancient cultures knew this to be inadequate. Hence
the ritual of the sacred king, and the full richness of Oedipus. Deep
within, every man knows that he will only know complete freedom
when his hand holds the knife drenched in his father's life blood."

A tiny alarm began beeping. Thailog saved and passworded his file.

"Delilah, return to your room. I need to go for a while."

Delilah nodded, and picked up her doll. "Have you taken your
medicine this evening?" She nodded again. He asked her, "Are you
certain?"

"Yes," she said, very quietly, not looking at him. Good.

"I will be back before dawn," he said, and watched her cringe. After
she closed the door, he locked it behind her.

The time would come when he killed his fathers, all of them. For
now, it was nice to know that at least someone feared him. He made
a mental note to add that to his journal later.

VVVVV

It was nearly sunrise, and Elisa watched the skyline. At last, the
familiar shapes glided into view in pairs: Goliath and Hudson, Lex
and Nashville, Brooklyn and Broadway. Katana had spent the
evening in with Tachi, who had a slight cold. Even now they were in
the castle proper, probably would spend the day there, if they didn't
make it up to the towers quickly.

Goliath landed next to her. Normally, he would take her hand and
smile, but things hadn't been "normal" since Derek and Maggie's
wedding, since the people in the Labyrinth had repelled an invasion
from the Quarrymen, since ...

"Any luck?" she asked quietly, and he shook his head.

Trying to quell her disappointment, she pulled out her map of the city,
let the others hurriedly mark in turn the areas they'd searched this
time. They'd begun a grid approach, which would work only if
Thailog wasn't moving around, or had not left the city entirely. After
the clan turned to stone for the day, she'd go to the Labyrinth and find
out from Derek what he and Angela and the clones had found for the
night.

She heard small feet scamper up behind her, and stepped out of the
way as Tachi launched herself into Brooklyn's arms.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Hey, Tachi-chan. How are you feeling?"

"Lots better."

Elisa had to turn away from them. Her own child was gone, held
captive by a monster, and as much as she loved the joy on Brooklyn's
face, she ached.

Goliath's hand slipped over her shoulder. She leaned back and rested
against him. "Tonight," he whispered into her hair. "We will find her
tonight." He pulled away, and moments later, turned to stone.

Goliath always said that.

She took the elevator back to the parking garage and drove to the
nearest entrance to the Labyrinth, her mind a million miles away.
This wasn't standard Missing Persons. This wasn't even non-standard,
like the case she'd coincidentally been assigned to "find" Maggie.
There was no one to ask who had not already been asked, nowhere to
search that had not been examined thoroughly. They'd even sent
Angela to ask Demona for help.

Nothing.

He'd had her for weeks.

Elisa knew her work was suffering. She had a heavy caseload, and
while she liked her new partner, she didn't trust him with her secrets
and she couldn't explain to him why she spent so much of her time
frantically tracking down leads on a Mr. Alexander Thailog.

Down in the Labyrinth, she found Maggie kneeling on the floor in the
playroom with Daniel. Her nephew looked up at her with a wide,
fanged grin and waved a truck at her.

"Hey, Daniel. Hi, Maggie. Anything?"

But she knew before Maggie spoke that there had been no sign, no
news. Maggie wore the same tired worry and grief on her face that
Elisa saw in her mirror every afternoon before work.

"Derek's sleeping, but he left a note for you." Maggie nodded to the
table. "The boys did good last night. Angela's pleased with their
progress."

"Yeah. That's what she was telling me." Elisa picked up her brother's
note, marked on her map the sections of the grid he'd gone over with
the clones.

"Wouldn't the search be easier if they were at the castle?" There was
something in Maggie's voice that made Elisa put down her pencil and
kneel down beside her.

"Maggie ... "

"No, it'd be a good idea. Angela can go back at the same time, and
the boys can go, and that'll double the searchers. Derek would stay
here, but he could coordinate with you there."

"Derek is already coordinating with us. Angela and the boys are
helping us where they are now. Thailog will keep track of the clan;
he can't watch the Labyrinth as easily. The fewer gargoyles he knows
are looking for him, the more likely he is to slip up."

"Well, he hasn't slipped up yet, has he?" The strain came through in
her voice and Daniel stopped playing to look up curiously at his
mother. Elisa wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law, mindful of
the fact that, if pissed enough, Maggie could easily electrocute her.

"We're looking. We'll find her." If she repeated it to herself enough,
she'd believe it.

"He's hurting her. Every night we don't find them, he's hurting her."

"I know."

Maggie wept quietly; Elisa held her, pushing away her own tears for
another day.

VVVVV

" ... Thus ends this assembly. So mote it be." The hooded figure
puffed out the candle, engulfing the room in darkness. Once, in days
of old, this would have been a sign for the other members of the
Order to file out quietly and scurry back to their lives.

Someone near the back of the room flicked on the switch. The
meeting of the Illuminati was now well-lit by tastefully recessed wall
lights. The members blinked in the sudden light, and removed their
hoods.

David sighed internally. Being a member of a secret society was
supposed to be, well, cooler than this.

He smiled amiably at his fellow Illuminati, noting which faces he'd be
seeing later that week at a merger meeting, which faces he'd pretend
not to recognize at all. There would be refreshments in the outer
room, and Owen had been after him to mingle more. He'd spent too
much time home with Fox and Alexander, with the Clan, with,
perhaps, his conscience, and Owen was concerned that his lack of
"face time" among the unseen movers and shakers of the world might
end up getting David (and thus his extended family) moved and/or
shaken.

He'd have a glass of champagne. He'd chat with someone he knew.
He'd leave.

Champagne: check. "Diana," he said pleasantly, to the closet person
he saw. "Congratulations on becoming a member."

"David! How nice to see you here!" The woman took a long drink
from her own glass, clearly nervous. "Are all the meetings like this?"

"Most are about as boring," he said, smiling. Diana Mathers owned
and operated Moonrise Management, the same company which had
placed a much younger David Xanatos in his position with
Cyberbiotics back in the day. Were it not for her, he might not have
met Fox. True, she smoked too much, and he was certain the auburn
in her hair came from a salon these days, but he liked her. He couldn't
say that about many people in the room this evening.

"Now, David," said another voice. He turned, just as another woman
approached, placing a too-friendly hand on David's arm. "It's not so
bad. We do great things here."

"Of course," his brain tossed up a name, "June. I was simply
commenting on how the most exciting events in world history are
rarely preceded by someone insisting on reading the minutes of the
previous meeting."

Diana covered her laugh with her hand. The older woman smirked.
David wondered if he could edge her politely out of his conversation,
as he would enjoy a chance to catch up with Diana, but not if it meant
putting up with June Landsford.

He'd encountered Landsford only rarely in his daily business. She ran
an exclusive cosmetics and perfume business, catering only to the top
female executives in the world. David happened to know this was
merely a ruse, that she made her real money selling charms and
enchantments to well-to-do businesswomen: spells to undercut
competitors, love potions, and everything in-between. Owen didn't
trust her, and David didn't, either.

"Diana, why don't you let me introduce you around?" He slipped
away from Landsford's grasp to offer Diana his arm.

"I really can't stay," Diana said. "Work to be done back at the office,
you know how it is."

"Of course. Give Mark my regards."

"I will. Tell Owen and Fox I said hello. Oh! And I'd love to see
pictures of Alexander some time. I'm sure he's gotten so big."

"Enormous."

"It was nice meeting you, dear," said Landsford, extending her hand
quickly. "June Landsford, Jontique."

"Diana Mathers, Moonrise Management."

"Here's my card," Landsford said. "I think you'll like our services."

"Thank you," Diana replied, obviously confused as she placed the
card in her tiny purse.

"I should be getting home as well," David said, smoothly. "June, it
was lovely to see you as always." He set down his glass. He nodded
politely to the other members who looked his way. Owen be damned,
he could make nice later.

"David," said Landsford, "will I be seeing you and your lovely wife at
the benefit on Thursday?"

"We wouldn't miss it." Time to go. "Diana, if you'd like, I can walk
you out."

"That would be wonderful. Do we have to tell anyone we're going?"

"Not as a rule." He noted that a few more heads were watching him
as he escorted her out of the room. That would make interesting
gossip for someone, he was certain.

"So how is Alex?"

"Growing like a weed. His birthday was three months ago and he's
already outgrown everything."

Diana smiled. She wasn't married and had no children. David had
met her dates on a few occasions, but he suspected her schedule and
commitments made it difficult for her to find time for something
more.

Owen waited with the limo in the circular driveway. "Ms. Mathers,"
he said pleasantly when he saw her.

"Owen! How have you been? It's been ages." Genuine pleasure
filled her features as she took his gloved hand, and David recalled
Moonrise had placed Owen at Cyberbiotics as well.

"I am well, thank you."

"Diana, do you need a ride back to the city?" They usually met here
at the manor house on Staten Island; he was not sure how she'd
arrived for her first meeting.

"No," she said, and David thought there was a touch of wistfulness.
"I brought my car. Take care, David. Owen." Her own vehicle was
parked four cars away. Owen waited politely outside until she had
safely started her ignition.

Only when they were finally on the Expressway did David remark,
"I'd never really noticed before, but I do believe Diana has a crush on
you, Owen."

There was a noise from the driver's seat. Possibly a groan.

"What was that, Owen?"

"Nothing, sir."

"I could call her for you. Ask her to come over. Surely we need to
hire someone for some position or another."

"Sir."

"You've known her for years. She's not seeing anyone right now that I
know of."

"Sir!"

"Is it the age difference? Three thousand years is a bit of a gap."

"Respectfully, Mr. Xanatos? Please shut up."

David covered his grin with his hand, and stopped bothering him.
Teasing Owen was usually Fox's sport, but sometimes, it was just too
much fun to resist.

VVVVV

The night air was warm, even up here. The dog-days of August had
broken to yield a pleasant end to the summer, and Lex was
determined to enjoy every ounce of it before another New York
winter set in. If he could call what they were doing now enjoyable.

"Anything?"

"Same as always," said Nashville. The younger gargoyle kept his
eyes peeled as they glided above Harlem. "Wait, what about there?"

Nash pointed to a tall building nearby. Lex saw the tell-tale claw
marks at the top, and as it had so many times before, hope flared
briefly as they circled in for a better look. "No," he said, after a
moment's inspection. "These are old. You can tell by the erosion.
Goliath probably landed here a year or two ago." Nash peered closer,
then nodded.

"It was a good catch, though," Lex told him, as they headed away
from the building. It could have been Thailog this time. It could
have.

As the days went by, it looked less and less likely that they'd find any
trace of Thailog, or far more importantly, Delilah. Their best hope,
which Goliath told them nightly before patrols, was that his dark
clone would get sloppy as time went by, and not cover his trail. In the
meantime, they had to keep looking. Lex knew all this, but it was
frustrating to go night after night, finding nothing but old marks they
had made themselves and nothing else. He'd tried searching the web
for suspicious activities and purchases, but Thailog was just as
careful, and yielded nothing.

He wasn't the only one. Brooklyn had been tight-lipped ever since the
attack on the Labyrinth. He'd changed so much during the forty years
of his adventures with the Phoenix Gate; while before, Lex had
known how to read his brother's emotions pretty well, one of the more
annoying changes was Brooklyn's new-found ability to disguise those
thoughts.

Brooklyn knew the future. He'd seen it.

And grief was the only thing Lexington could read in his brother's
eyes when 'Lilah's name was mentioned.

What made no sense, what Lex couldn't fathom, was why, then, did
Brooklyn also insist on going out nightly, on searching, on insisting
she was still alive?

He glanced at Nashville.

"You know," Lex started, "this could be a lot easier if you tell me
what you know."

"Like what?" Nash scanned the cityscape. He was getting much
better at identifying the noises and signals of this world, what was
going to be a crime, what was a normal squeal of joy or tires. He was
adjusting.

"About Delilah. About why your dad is being so weird about this."

Nash looked away. "He's not being weird."

"Sure he is. And so are you. You know something." He felt like a
heel for this, but he had to try: "Any piece of information, no matter
how small, could make the difference between saving her and not.
You could help."

"That's why we're out here."

"So you're not gonna tell me," said Lex. Nashville said nothing.
They glided silently for a few minutes.

"I can't."

"Because of the future."

Nash nodded. "It's one thing to know history, and another to be there
living it, wanting to ... "

"Wanting to change it?"

"Knowing I can't, ever, anything. So why bother trying?" He
swooped low over the Park, and Lex tagged close behind.

Lex said, "Goliath once told us that Puck showed him a vision of the
future, a horrible vision. Goliath called him on it, later, and Puck said
the future hadn't been written yet."

"Puck's an annoying drefthead and he's wrong. Been there, seen the
snarting video."

Lex considered calling him on the language, then realized he had no
idea what Nash had just said. They continued their silent patrol, each
lost in his own world. Not for the first time, Lex pondered what it
might be like to know what was going to happen, and not be able to
change a word of it. He had no idea what Nash was thinking.

And then Nash said:

"We danced back to Wyvern just before the massacre."

There was a pain, deep in his chest, and Lex had to set down
clumsily; Nash landed beside him, wrapped in his own wings. From
time to time, when his thief of a memory would steal back to that
awful night, his vision would blur, and it would be hard to think, or
breathe, or feel anything but loss, emptiness.

He hadn't imagined that anyone could have a worse memory than that
of waking, coming out of the rookery, finding the cracked corpses of
everyone he'd loved.

"You'd better tell me," he said. Nash shook his head. "Please."

The younger gargoyle looked off into the sky. His gaze fixated on a
point, as though he was reading what to say in the unseen stars.
When he spoke, his voice was in a whisper.

"It was two nights before the final attack. We, um, danced in a few
miles away. Dad recognized the territory, and as we approached the
castle, he saw the Vikings, and knew when we'd arrived. He made the
three of us make camp well out of sight from the castle proper, and he
went in alone. I don't know why.

"When he came back to where we hid, he looked like death. I mean,
there we were, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do to stop
what was coming. I think he was in shock. I guess that was why he
never noticed he was being followed, and by the time Mom spotted
her in the shadows, she'd already heard too much."

"Her?" Lex asked, knowing that he did not want to know, that
memory was best served warm and hazy and distant. Nash gave a
quick description, and Lex's mind pulled up a picture of the gargoyle:
golden-orange and horned and shy, someone he'd always liked.

"I can stop," Nash said, seeing the pain on Lex's face.

Brooklyn lived this. I can listen. "Go on."

"Dad didn't know what to say at first. He explained what was going
to happen, and of course, she wanted to tell the clan. And we all
knew that wouldn't help, because you can't change history. Ever.

"She asked him, finally, what he'd seen when you guys woke up the
next night, if he'd recognized anyone. She was grasping at straws,
and then Mom gave her one. Mom asked Dad if he'd seen any of the
hatchlings among the dead, and Dad said that he couldn't recall.

"And Mom said, and the other gargoyle agreed, that if some of the
clan survived without Dad's knowledge of it, then as far as anyone
knew, history wasn't being changed.

"And Dad said okay.

"It wasn't too hard gathering the hatchlings. Tachi went into the play
area, and I went in after her, and the other gargoyle helped us coax as
many as we could away from the castle, and back to our hiding place.

"We got twenty-seven hatchlings. We couldn't take them all at once
without arousing suspicions, and we didn't have much time before
sunrise. About half and half were six and sixteen. After we had the
last few that we were gonna get, the other gargoyle went back to the
castle. I think she was going to try to warn people anyway. I don't
think it mattered."

"No," said Lex, subdued.

"Dad went out the next night, after you guys woke up and went after
the Vikings." Before Goliath came back alone, thought Lex.
"I was supposed to stay with Mom and the hatchlings, but I followed
Dad. He went through the castle, picking up shards of stone. He
picked up what was left of someone's face, and kissed it on the
forehead. And then," Nash swallowed.

"Don't," Lex said, placing a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Let it
go."

Nash didn't hear him. "It was a hand, a little claw, no bigger than
Tachi's. And he started to cry. I went over to him, and he tried to
hide it, tried to be mad at me for following him, but he kept holding
that little hand. So I told him the only thing I could think of, that we'd
gotten twenty-seven.

"And then we heard the approach of the horses, the humans, and we
had to leave the dead where they were."

"What happened to the hatchlings?"

"We danced out with them when the Gate came. The next jump took
us to a clan in India, late 1800's I think. They'd lost most of their eggs
in an accident, and there we were with twenty-seven hatchlings who
needed a clan. Funny, huh?"

"So they might still be alive?"

"Or their kids, yeah. I think Dad wants to look them up some time,
but not yet. I don't think he could handle it yet."

Nash looked up. The stars were mostly hidden by the city lights.
"We can't change the past. If Dad says Delilah's alive, she is. He
knows what day she dies. I don't, Mom doesn't, Tachi doesn't. Just
Dad. And he knows we can't stop it any more than we could rewrite
that night at Wyvern."

Lex stopped. "No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no. I won't accept that."

"Lex, it's the future. I've seen it. It will happen."

"But maybe what you and your dad know is just a piece of what will
happen. Maybe it looks like she dies, like it looked like the
hatchlings died, when in reality, you saved them."

Nash shook his head. "Not on this."

Lex took his shoulders. "Is there a possibility? Is there one chance
that you're wrong, that things can be changed without changing the
future? One chance, Nash, just one." He pleaded with his eyes, his
heart. "Just say there's a remote possibility that you're wrong."

"Remote," said Nash. "Unimaginably remote."

"But there's a chance."

"Lex, it's famous." Nash was apologetic almost. "It's not even a
million-to-one chance."

"But it's a chance. Come on." he hopped onto the back of a bench,
and onto a tree. Nash scampered up behind him as he checked the
wind and then caught a current.

"What's the hurry?"

"You just gave 'Lilah one chance to live. Let's not waste it talking."

VVVVV

The room buzzed with excitement. Thailog could feel the crackle of
anticipation from every human seated below him, rising from them
like an acrid stink.

Castaway placed tiny figurines on the oversized drawing of the
theatre.

"Harper, Jones, you'll be in position here. Stanley, you'll be here.
Eddings, Marsh, here. Johansen, here. Davidson and Wells, here."
The man's eyes gleamed in his madness. "The rest of us will take
positions outside," he added more figures to the perimeter, "here,
here, and here.

"At nine o'clock precisely, our point person," he added a figure to the
center of the theatre, "will give the signal to Stanley," he tapped the
figurine standing at the concession counter. "Mayhem will ensue.
Our goal is to conduct an orderly evacuation of the theatre. Our point
person will help evacuate the children to this location. I will wait
outside, and dash heroically in to rescue the last few children."

There were nods of agreement at the plan. Castaway saw no flaws in
it, and they probably didn't either. Thailog himself saw many, but as
he intended to exploit them, he saw no reason to point these out to the
Quarrymen.

The fundraiser was to benefit the Children's Hospital. The usual
celebrities and guests would be on hand, cash would be flowing freely
into the charitable coffers, and from eight-thirty to nine, cute moppets
were scheduled to entertain everyone with a disgustingly adorable
song-and-dance. The Quarrymen were already setting small smoke
bombs all around the theatre; being on the security force helped
immeasurably.

"Mr. Castaway?" One of the pawns raised his hand. "I know we're
planning on blaming the gargoyles for this, but how are we sure
people will believe us?"

"Because," said Thailog, gliding down from his perch, "that's
precisely what I'm going to tell them."

There were gasps and squeals. Chairs flew back as Quarrymen
scrambled for cover. A few, Thailog noted, did brandish their
hammers and advance upon him.

Castaway dashed in front of him, holding up his arms. "Wait! My
friends, this is an ally."

"What?"

"Him?"

"A gargoyle!"

"It's him! Goliath!"

Thailog hid his sigh. These really were deeply stupid people.

Castaway explained, "Thailog has the same goal as we. He is not a
gargoyle, despite his appearance. In his soul, he is a Quarryman. He
wants to see the end of the parasites infesting our fair city, just as we
do."

Thailog bowed his head. He'd been practicing this speech for a while.
"Brothers, sisters, friends. The clan of gargoyles who live in your city
have fought and plagued me since my unfortunate birth. I have no
more love for them than you do. I would gladly see them burn." He
extended his arms. "Please. Allow me my role in this. I will claim
responsibility for the attack, and then you will have the hearts of the
populace on your side at last."

Fear greeted him as he spoke, and he knew it would. He could work
with fear.

"I don't know that we should trust a race-traitor," said a woman. She
was older than most of the people in the room, and her clothes were
of a much finer design and fabric than the norm. She also looked
afraid, but her hand was on her hammer, and she didn't cower.

Castaway smiled at her. "Think of Thailog as a fifth-columnist, Ms.
Landsford. He sees the error of his people's ways and wishes to assist
us."

The woman turned her attention back to Thailog. "We'll see about
that."

Thailog forced himself into a smile of his own. He only had to play
nice for a few days. Landsford had informed everyone at the
beginning of the meeting that Xanatos would be present at the benefit,
too. The perfect patsy to take the blame, rather than Thailog himself.
With the stolen cash from the benefit firmly in hand, Thailog would
light off a surprise of his own for the many Quarrymen stationed
throughout the building, as well as his father. Planting it had merely
required placing it with the other bombs which the Quarrymen had
hidden, with a note from "Castaway."

Deeply, deeply stupid.

His smiled widened and became genuine as he considered the lovely
light he would make.

VVVVV

Demona shut down her computer for the evening. She'd been here
too long, again, but sometimes the day-to-day activities of Nightstone
Unlimited required late nights. Transforming in the office could be a
problem, but it was one she dealt with when necessary.

She touched her intercom button. "Katie, I'll be going out the back
way this evening. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, Ms. Destine," chirped her secretary's voice. Demona pressed
the button again to silence the connection. Katie had seen Demona in
her gargoyle form on a few occasions, had handled it surprisingly
well. Demona had considered killing her the first time, the realized
she'd have to train yet another secretary. Also, she was trying to be ...
nicer.

Something flew by her office window, close enough to detect, far
enough away that she didn't see who.

She glanced at her briefcase, then shrugged and left it. She hadn't be
out for a good flight in ages. She'd tail whoever it was, give them a
nice chase, maybe send a message back to Angela.

She frowned as she opened her window. Of course she kept tabs on
the clan, but while she had taken note of Brooklyn's strange new
family, she had yet to see Angela perch at the castle, even though she
had visited Demona to ask about Thailog and the half-breed
abomination.

With a leap and a swish, she was out and in the sky, gliding around
the downtown buildings. She headed in the direction she'd seen the
other gargoyle go.

Ah. This was just what she'd needed: a lovely stretch of her wing
muscles, some fresh air. The perfect mix to clear her head of
thoughts of ...

Thailog!

She snarled, feeling her eyes go crimson in rage. There was no
confusing him with Goliath, not for Demona. She'd made love to
both of them, and they were as different as any two gargoyles could
be.

He was far ahead of her. She swooped to increase her speed, blood
pounding through her veins for a good fight with the bastard. She
wanted to rip and tear and destroy him, and ...

Angela wanted his location.

Her ex-lover had gone below to the bowels of the city where his false
clan hid with Maza's mutated brother. Thailog had stolen away his
little half-breed, and Angela was desperate to find her, so desperate
she had even come to Demona for help.

If Demona could bring information about his current hide-hole to her
daughter, Angela would be pleased.

The impulse to win her daughter's affections fought with her desire to
kill him, and too her desire not to do anything to benefit the
abomination. As she debated, she glided in pursuit, just out of his
sight.

He stopped at a warehouse. She perched a fair distance away and
watched him go in, waiting until he emerged. He carried a package in
his arms. Another flight, this to a small office building in another part
of town. A briefer wait this time, and he left without the package.
Curious.

The impulse to kill him rose again. She quelled it. Angela wanted
information. Angela would love her if she brought information. Yes.

The third flight was to a pre-war building overlooking the East River.
He landed at the balcony to the penthouse suite and let himself in.
Demona suspected she'd found his hideout, but waited until almost
sunrise to make certain. He didn't come out again.

She noted the location for later, and then flew off in search of her own
home and rest. She could tell Angela after sunset.

VVVVV

"My dear," said Thailog, "my plans are coming together."

"Yes, Master," 'Lilah said, not looking up from her doll.

Her master nodded at her, then called the security forces he gave lots
of money to so that they could protect them during the day. The
alarm would surround the penthouse, and the men would have guns
on the roof, and no one could get in while they were stone.

Master drifted the curtain open narrowly.

"I can't help but wonder what that bitch thinks she's doing."

"Master?"

He waved his arm. "Demona. I thought I'd lost her, but she's across
the street watching us." Master sighed. "After my affairs are in order
tonight, I will come back for you. You will need to be ready to leave
as soon as I arrive. Do you understand?"

She nodded. Go? 'Lilah didn't want to go. She hated it here,
hated the close walls and never getting to spread her wings. She hid
her face away in the doll's pretty dress so he wouldn't see her face.
She hated him — oh! how her heart raced to dare think such a thing!
— and she hated the Game and she wanted to be anywhere else.

But she wasn't stupid. Master meant they would leave the city
entirely. As long as they were here, 'Lilah had hope curled up inside
her like a little baby caterpillar in a cocoon. Maggie and Elisa and
Boo and Banky and Brent and Holly and Talon and Angela might find
her here. If Master took her far away, they'd never find her, never
ever.

She wanted to fly away. Master always locked the doors when he left,
locked her in, but maybe he would forget tonight, maybe please
maybe.

She hid her face away further. Thinking about flying away was bad.
Every single night, he held her and he kissed her and he told her that
if she ever ran away, he would set a great big bomb in the Labyrinth
and blow everyone up, and he'd make her watch when he did, and
then he'd lock her in her little room and set her wings on fire.

Master Thailog finished what he was working on. She could tell
because he stopped typing on his computer. She stiffened, tried not
to, tried instead to smooth out the creases in her doll's ruffled pink
dress.

"Come here, Delilah," he said.

She set down the doll. Pretending she hadn't heard him would only
make it worse. She got to her feet, draped her wings around herself,
and walked over to where he still sat in his computer chair.

"That's my good girl," he said. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her
down to her knees. Then he kissed her, carefully, tenderly, his free
hand threading through her hair.

She closed her eyes. In her bones she felt the prickle of sunrise fast
approaching. Boldly, she kissed him back, felt his smile under her
lips as she pressed her body against his, scratching her own free claws
delicately against the side of his scarred face. She bit his lower lip as
he squeezed her wrist more tightly.

She'd pay for this later. By enticing him, playing the Game with him,
she was actually postponing the moment of their coupling. Were she
to shy away from him, like every bit of her wanted to do as he petted
her hair, Master would force her down to the carpet right now.
Instead, she continued kissing him, stroking his face and chest, and
she felt it even from here inside her dark prison: the sun racing over
the horizon.

After, when the sun ran away again, they would awaken from their
sleep, and if she was quick enough, she could dash into the small
kitchen and make a great fuss about cooking him food. Sometimes he
would forget about finishing the Game.

She wasn't very quick, though, and even when she was, he didn't often
forget.

As she pulled back from him, felt the stone claiming her, 'Lilah knew
that for today at least, she could sleep and be free.

VVVVV

Broadway roared as he woke from his stone slumber. The last pieces
of his daily shell flew from him littering the tower, and he yawned.

Another night, another evening of searching. The long hours were
wearing on everyone. Not a one of them hadn't snapped at the rest in
the past month, even the children; Alex and Tachi fought over
everything until he was put to bed, every night.

Still.

Angela was home. Even if "home" meant she was yet in the
Labyrinth, two months after delivering their egg, weeks after the
departure of her sisters for Avalon. She was in the city, out patrolling
with the clones, trying to find a clue, any clue, to Thailog's location.

More to the point, tonight, she was patrolling with him.

He rushed through fixing breakfast for the clan, burning most of the
toast and the bacon in his haste. Thank the Dragon most of the clan
liked their bacon crispy.

After food, Broadway nodded through the explanation of where he
was supposed to be searching tonight, then hopped up to his favorite
parapet and flew off in search of his mate, excitement fluttering
through him.

It wasn't that he didn't care. He did. He liked Delilah. She was sweet
and she was pretty, and given a chance, Broadway would love to rip
out Thailog's liver and feed it to him deep-fried with onions and
asparagus. He'd even consider doing the same to Sevarius, whose
programming made the clone. As for Xanatos ...

Broadway dipped slightly, frowning.

Xanatos was harder. So much had changed since they had first
awakened in this world. Ever since Alexander's birth, Xanatos had
acted as their ally. He'd returned their home to them, given Broadway
and Lex jobs, provided every resource he could muster. But Xanatos
had created Thailog, too, and his own personality and desires were
just as much a part of the clone's makeup as Goliath's were.

In a way, Xanatos was more responsible than Sevarius for Thailog's
misdeeds, which meant the blame for everything that was happening
now rested at his feet, too.

Goliath hadn't told Xanatos what had happened. Every night, they
patrolled and they searched, but while the wealthiest man in the
country lived in the same house, they hadn't asked his aid because
Goliath didn't quite trust him, and Broadway couldn't blame him.

Goliath said Angela had to stay in the Labyrinth with the Mutates and
clones in order to fool Thailog into thinking they had fewer warriors
looking for him. But Broadway thought that made no sense, that
Thailog would know they'd send every weapon they had at him,
regardless. It wasn't Thailog whom Goliath wasn't sure of, it was
Xanatos. What would he do if he knew about the clones, who were
already pre-programmed to obey? More, what would he do if he
knew about the rookery they kept there, filled with the precious future
of the clan and just waiting for a strong, guiding hand?

Angela's body was almost completely recovered from carrying and
delivering their egg, and Broadway had a hunch that as soon as she
was, Goliath would allow her back to the castle, with a warning to
keep her silence on certain topics. So many things Goliath didn't
want Xanatos to know about, and so he kept their forces divided and
hidden.

Broadway wondered, in the pit of his stomach, what that lack of trust
was going to cost them in the end.

"My love!"

He turned with a grin. Angela waved to him from the top of their
favorite building. He landed and drew her into his arms with a laugh
and a kiss.

They couldn't stay like this, not here, not anywhere. They had a job to
do, and it would rob them of the little time they might otherwise have
shared. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, leaving soft kisses on
the tips of her talons.

"Time to go hunting," she said with a sigh of her own.

They went aloft, not quite touching as they glided, but drifting close
enough to brush their wings from time to time, scouring the city as
they went. They fought and they chatted, filling each other in on the
gossip above and below as they beat up would-be criminals. A
mugger had a bad night while Broadway related that Xanatos and Fox
were out at some benefit tonight; an armed robber got a mild
concussion as Angela caught him up on how the clones were
progressing in their training.

No sign of Thailog or Delilah.

He started, "Maybe we should ... "

"Mother?"

His head flipped around, and he almost fell out of the air in his shock.
"Demona!"

The blue gargoyle approached them in the air, but circumspectly. He
didn't see any weapons on her, which didn't mean she had none.

"Daughter. Broadway."

Angela demanded, "What do you want?"

"It's not about what I want. It's about what you want."

Broadway drifted between them, guarding his mate. "We don't want
anything from you."

Demona smirked. "Tonight you do. I found Thailog's hideaway. Of
course, if you don't want to know where it is ... "

"You're lying," said Broadway.

Angela pushed past him. "Where is he?"

"Come with me, and I'll show you."

Broadway said, "We're not going anywhere with you. Just give us the
location."

Demona turned to him. "I didn't invite you along regardless. I will
show Angela."

"Over my dead body."

Angela sighed. "Broadway, don't give her ideas." She turned to her
mother. "All right."

Broadway gasped. "What! You can't trust her, Angela."

"I can take care of myself. If she's right, I'll call for backup and we
can get Delilah home tonight." He noticed Demona's wince as Angela
said the name, and his fear grew.

"She's not going to help. She's just here to confuse you, or take you
away from us. She always has an angle."

Demona snorted. "Of course I do. And my 'angle' is that my daughter
wants something which I alone can give her. Therefore, I'm going to
give it to her."

Angela flew back to him and kissed his cheek as he closed his eyes.
"I'll be back soon. I've got the phone. If you haven't heard from me
within an hour, call." She whispered against his ear so that Demona
couldn't hear: "It's got a tracking device in it."

He nodded. Then he spat at Demona: "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."
Demona arched her eyebrow. Broadway continued, "And when you
get better, I'll kill you again and again and again. I've got a bigger
imagination than you'd think. I'll keep it from being boring." He
growled at her, his eyes blazing white. "Understand?"

Demona laughed at him. "You may make a better mate for her than I
thought. I will not allow her to be harmed. Come, Angela." She flew
back several yards. "Unless you don't want to know where
they are."

Angela looked at Broadway once more, than followed her mother.
Broadway stared after them until they were out of sight.

And then, being very careful to stay out of sight, he followed them.

VVVVV