Author's Note: I'm Back! Here it is folks, This is the sequel to my other story "The Hunt" but I believe that it could be understood if you decided to read it as a stand alone. But you really should read "The Hunt" Its pretty good. I'm having a blast writing this one, but again, I am a twisted individual! Having said that I must issue some WARNINGS for this one. First of all, this one is much more brutal then "The Hunt". My villain is very villainous and may not be suitable for the kiddies. But I will positively say there is no rape or sexual type thing of any sort as I have certain things that, twisted or not, I simply will not write. There may also be some strong language in parts of this thing, so if you get offended easily, you may want to read some Glee fics instead. Just sayin. Read On and ENJOY!

The cable TV censorship bleep drowned out the rain pattering against the window. Emily Prentiss lay in bed watching the strung out prostitute run across the Jerry Springer stage in a ridiculous attempt to attack the alleged father of her third child. She blinked lazily, unamused by the antics and the chanting of the audience. She decided that two episodes of the only show airing at the early hour were plenty and clicked off the TV, plunging the room into darkness. She eyed the clock on the nightstand, disappointed to find it was only 2am. She still had three hours before the alarm sounded and she could get out of bed without feeling guilty. She'd promised JJ that she wouldn't be overly eager to return to work and would try to rest before her first day.

Her doctor had warned her that she would most likely suffer some lingering effects of the injuries she'd received on their last case. A pair of lunatic hunters had sent their SUV careening down the side of a mountain before chasing them through the freezing wet forest for nearly two days. Though Emily only remembered vague bits and pieces of the time on the mountain, Reid had done a good job filling in the blanks during his visits to her hospital room. Her doctor had explained that the memory loss was normal; he couldn't say either way if she'd recover the memories or if they'd be lost forever. The latter scenario didn't bother her. It had taken her three weeks in the hospital to recover from the ordeal and she wasn't particularly eager to remember the events leading up to her stay. Doctor Tanner had also explained about the lingering headaches she'd likely suffer a s a result of her head injury. However, he had failed to tell her how quickly they would hit her and how severe they could be.

During her first week home from the hospital, the team stopped by regularly to check in on her and often spent the evenings eating dinner and watching movies. Although they claimed it was just to keep her company, she knew they really wanted to check in, to make sure she was alright. Though she feigned annoyance, she loved them for their concern. It was during one such occasion on her second day home that the first and, thus far, most severe of her headaches hit. She was walking with a couple glasses of mixed drinks from the kitchen to her friends in the living room as they watched a movie.

The headache had started earlier in the day as a nagging ache at the base of her skull but had gradually gotten worse as the day went on. She had really just wanted to go to bed, but her friends were relentless so she simply ignored it as one of the symptoms she'd been expecting. But as she made her way from the kitchen to join the team, a sudden sharp pain shot from the back of her skull, raced through her head, and erupted behind her eyes like a bolt of lightning. The severity of it blinded her on impact, and her equilibrium vanished, dropping her to her knees. The glasses shattered against the hardwood floor; every member of the team came running and slid through the mixture of juices and soda to her side. Once the headache subsided she'd attempted to joke about the epic party foul. They weren't amused and had spent the rest of the evening watching her closely until she had finally fallen asleep.

Emily blinked at the bedside clock again, pushing the memory from her mind. That had been two weeks ago and her new doctor in DC had given her a prescription for the headaches. She hadn't had another one so severe since. Sure, the headaches were there and had become frequent annoyances, but so far that's all they were: annoyances. She'd made it at home alone with no incidents for nearly two weeks and had finally been cleared to go back to work. Of course, she hadn't told Doctor Christiansen about her problems sleeping or about the pain she'd felt in her lungs when she challenged herself to a morning run a few days ago.

She sighed and turned over, smiling at the irritated meow that Sergio sent up from her feet at having his sleep disrupted. She now only had an hour and a half before the clock buzzed. She sighed again and disabled the alarm, deciding it was close enough, and flipped the covers down over Sergio to drag herself out of bed. She made a quick trip down to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee before returning to her bedroom. She glared at the rain pelting against the window before stepping into the bathroom for a shower. After their time on the mountain in Montana, she hated the rain.

Owen Taylor loved the rain. He got his best sleep when it was raining outside. The sound of its gentle rhythm against the roof and the window panes, the smell of it as it cleaned the air, all of it creating a perfect ambience for sleeping. But this night was different. He felt groggy and uncomfortable, even as he heard the steady melody of the rain above him. He was freezing and for a moment he wondered if Carol had left the bedroom window open. As he forced his brain to wake up, his back and shoulders screamed at him and he realized he was sitting up. A sudden sound of a strangely mechanical voice behind him had his head whipping up from his chest, and he looked around frantically for where it originated. He was sitting in the center of a warehouse, more specifically, his warehouse. He attempted to stand but immediately realized that he had been tied to the chair. Eyes wide, he struggled against the thick ropes, wincing as they dug into his wrists and ankles. The ropes held tight and he gave up tin favour of scanning the dimly lit building.

The warehouse had been stocked earlier in the day; stacks of wooden crates lined the walls, and he noticed the various places in the ceiling where the rain water ran down in streams and splashed against the concrete floor and tan vehicles parked in the center of the warehouse.

"Hello, Owen."

It was a deep, abnormal sounding voice. One that only came from a machine similar to the one he used frequently to disguise his voice when dealing with clients over the phone. His head whipped around again, eyes searching for the voice that seemed to echo off the aluminum walls and made him dizzy.

"Who are you?" he yelled out into the shadows.

"Who I am is unimportant. It's who you are that matters."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Owen strained his eyes into the shadows, searching the areas he could barely make out behind the Humvees parked haphazardly in front of him.

"I'm talking about loyalty, Owen."

"What?" he spat out. "I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about! You have no idea who you're dealing with!"

A sudden movement to his right caught his attention, and when he turned his head toward it, a solid fist slammed in to his face. He grunted as stars burst behind his eyes, and he swore he had heard his tooth crack. Anger boiled up in his chest, and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor in front of him, just missing the black boots standing to his left.

"You just signed your death warrant." Owen growled and lifted his head to meet the eyes behind the black ski mask above him. He laughed at the cliché and grinned with bloody teeth. "I'll send you straight to hell."

His captor stalked slowly behind him, making no sound before leaning close. Owen felt warm breath against his ear. "You first." The mechanical voice was gone.

Owen's eyes widened as he immediately recognized the voice no longer distorted by the device. Fear gripped his chest and before he could speak, beg for his life, the razor sharp blade of the black bowie knife sunk deeply into the side of his neck. Owen jumped at the sudden blinding pain, but the ropes held him immobile. He gurgled as he tried to speak, to breathe, to do anything, but his body failed to cooperate. His hands tingled and numbed, and he blinked at the tears in his eyes. The figure behind him leaned over again, ignoring the blood seeping down the hilt of the knife from the severed carotid artery and soaking into the black glove.

"Give the devil my best."

The other gloved hand gripped his hair, ripping his head back, as the knife pushed forward and free of his neck, splashing blood onto the concrete and against the Humvees.

It was 7am on the dot when Emily stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen for the first time in nearly six weeks. She rounded the corner and was met by a group of empty desks. She walked to her desk, set her things down, and sent a glance to Hotch's closed door before looking at her watch. Scowling, she compared the time on her wrist to the clock on the wall and confirmed she was on time. She had told the team not to make a big fuss about her returning to work but this was ridiculous. She at least wanted some familiar smiles.

She secured her things in her desk and set off toward the briefing room in search of the team. Her unease grew when she saw the light on and JJ standing in front of the window speaking to whom she could only guess was the rest of the team. They had started without her. She tried not to be offended by the fact that they'd become used to not having her around. She shoved away the ridiculous thought and slowly pushed the door open, preparing to apologize for her tardiness.

The words stopped in her throat, and she tried not to choke as she jumped from the sudden onslaught of obnoxious horns and whistles and shouts of surprise that exploded in her face the moment she entered. Once the initial shock wore off and she could breathe again, she couldn't help the enormous smile at the sight before her. All the members of her team – except JJ, the decoy in the window – wore brightly colored pointy party hats and held various styles of noisy party favors. Garcia flew up from her seat and enveloped Emily in a tight hug.

"It's so good to have you back!" A huge smile spread across her face as she snapped the elastic string under Emily's chin, securing the large pink glittery party hat to the top of her head.

Emily smiled. She hadn't wanted a big fuss about returning, but the sight of Aaron Hotchner in a pointy blue party hat and scowling around the feathery green and yellow party favor in his mouth had made it very much worth her jumping out of her skin at the surprise. Garcia ushered her over to sit at the table and JJ re-entered the room with a tray of wildly colored cupcakes that she set on the table in front of Emily.

"It was Garcia's idea," JJ said, squeezing Emily's shoulder and smiled at Garcia.

"You guys really didn't have to do this," Emily said. She looked around the table with a smile.

"Nonsense, Princess." Morgan smiled. "Any excuse for cupcakes is a good enough excuse for me."

"Got your appetite back, I see." She grinned, picking up a bright blue cupcake from the tray and peeling away the paper. "How's the abs?"

"I don't even notice it anymore. I've been cleared to full duty." He raised his hands above his head in a raise the roof manner and she laughed when Garcia smacked him.

"Light duty wasn't that bad," Garcia said. "You got to hang out in the cave with me." She winked and he flashed her a smile.

"Of course I love hangin' with you, baby girl. It's the whole cave part of the equation that I'm happy to be away from."

"Not a worry, I was going to kick you out to make room for Emily anyway."

Emily choked on her cupcake. "I'm sorry what?"

"You are on light duty, right? As in going to be standing back and letting these guys kick down the doors for a little while? Please tell me you are going to take it easy for awhile, Em." Garica asked with pleading eyes.

Before she could respond, Hotch's phone rang and they all quieted for him to answer it. A few minutes later he hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

"Sorry guys, that was DCPD. They need us on a consult."

The team all stood and left the room, snatching up the remaining cupcakes as they went, and Hotch held Prentiss back with a nod of his head until the others cleared the room.

"Prentiss, I know you've been released by your doctor to return, but, how are you feeling, really?"

"I feel good, Hotch." She grinned at him.

"How are the headaches?"

She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking back to the incident in her apartment that had obviously scared them all to death. All over a stupid headache.

"They're alright. Nothing a little Motrin won't knock out."

"I believe you," he said. He pulled the hat from his head and looked to the floor.

"But?"

"Strauss wants you to take it easy for a few days, just until you're sure you're one hundred percent." He spoke quietly, guilty.

"It's alright, Hotch." She snorted a half laugh. "I didn't expect anything less. Just don't forget about me down in the cave with Penelope, okay?"

He smiled and she laughed, handing him a napkin.

"Your teeth are blue."

"I hate cupcakes." He smirked again, this time hiding his stained teeth, and handed her his party favor before wiping at his mouth with the napkin.

They walked out of the briefing room and joined the rest of the team that had congregated around their desks.

"Dave, I'm going to send you, Reid, and Morgan to meet up with DCPD down in the warehouse district. Homicide found a victim in one of the warehouses that has them somewhat puzzled. JJ, I want you get on the phone with their office and make an official offer of our services should they need us further after the consult."

"What about Prentiss?" Morgan asked suspiciously, glancing from his boss to his friend as she offered him a forced grin.

"Prentiss is going to be spending some time in the office with Garcia. I believe Penelope has someone she'd like you to meet." Hotch ignored Prentiss's confused look and then nodded to Garcia.

"Oh goody!" Garcia clapped her hands together. "Come on Em, party in the cave! I'll bring the party hats!"

With that Garcia grabbed the remaining tray of cupcakes and scurried down the hall toward her office, waving at Emily to follow her.

"Oh, I'll bring my, uh..." She paused, looked around her desk, and realized she had no idea what she was supposed to bring to spend a day in the office with Garcia. Instead she lifted her hand that still held Hotch's party favor horn "...this thing."

The rest of the team laughed as they watched the brunette, still wearing her sparkly pink party hat, briskly walk off after the sugar-hyped technical analyst. She turned back to them and blew out a loud honk of the favor in their direction before smiling and ducking around the corner, waving. God, it was good to have her back.

Author's Note: There you go! Chapter 1. What do you think? Click it and tell me your thoughts!