To Love and Blood

Layla slowly walks forward through the path the crowd has made, eyes trained cautiously on each person she passes until she is in the inner circle and next to Steven and Kat.

“You couldn't possibly understand the value of what you're holding.” Harrow tells her, holding his hand out for the scarab, “Let me have that, I'll keep it safe.”

“Yeah, no way in hell is she giving it to you.” Kat steps forward, taking control of the situation once again as she glares at Harrow.

Layla stares at her openly, the woman she thought was being easily tricked now standing fearlessly in front of a dangerous man and his followers. A steady flow of respect comes from Layla as she watches curiously for what Kat will do.

Harrow's eyes narrow on Kat, anger rippling under the surface of his impassive mask, “I don't believe you have the ability to decide that.”

“Neither do you.” Kat shoots back, a confident smug smirk on her face, one she knows will irritate Harrow and his ‘holier than thou’ persona. Is purposefully angering the leader of a cult while trapped by its members a smart idea? No, but Kat never claimed to be intelligent.

Behind her, Kat can hear Layla whisper to Steven to summon a suit.

“Sorry, what?” Steven stutters, confused and frazzled by everything happening.

“Summon the suit.” Layla repeats, eyeing Harrow who watches on calmly.

“Summon the soup?” Steven questions as Kat rolls her eyes from where she stares daggers at Harrow, “What are you saying?”

“The suit. Summon the suit.” Layla says louder, growing impatient as she presses the scarab into Stevens hand, “And keep this safe.”

Realizing that Kat will not budge and that neither will Steven or Layla, Harrow's eyes set with determination as he shakes his head sadly.

“So be it.” Harrow says regretfully, raising the cane and jamming it into the ground with an inhuman force.

Kat watches as the pavement cracks and purple light emits from the crackling jagged edges of the cobblestone ground, growing in intensity as a deep growl starts to sound. The purple glow grows and grows from the depths below and shapes itself into a dog-like creature, waiting to be instructed and set loose.

‘Another jackal? How original.’ Kat thinks sourly, already knowing that she is going to be sore tomorrow, if she survives that long.

Kat looks at Steven, who is watching with fearful eyes. His hands are shaking and he is on the verge of a panic attack. Steven is looking at her like he wants her to do something, like he needs her. And damn does that just stab her right in the heart.

Glancing at Bastet who awaits her signal, Kat sighs deeply. This will either end well, or really badly and with her crying into a tub of ice cream, she really hopes it's the former. Kat grabs Steven and pulls him into a tight hug, making Steven freeze before relaxing into her arms. Kat breaths in deeply and silently says a sorrowful goodbye, knowing that Steven will want nothing to do with her after this.

Pulling away, Kat glances between Layla and Steven, urging them, “Go. Go now.”

“Wait, wait, no.” Steven shakes his head, eyes darting to where the mouth of the jackal is emerging, sharp teeth and sharp snout biting at the air, “What about you? Come with us.”

Kat shakes her head, telling him, “I'll hold them off.” Kat looks to Layla, imploring, “Keep him safe, please.”

With a nod at Bastet, Kat releases a soft sigh as golden light surrounds her and her suit drapes itself across her. Reaching up, she grabs the blades from her hair and settles them in her palms, sharp and deadly, ready for action. Opening her eyes, Kat sees that Layla and Steven are just standing there with their mouths open, not moving.

“Go!” Kat shouts, pushing them back to the stairs behind them as she ducks from a large man's swing that appears out of nowhere.

Not needing any more encouragement, Layla races up the stairs, pulling Steven with her as he continues to look back at Kat worriedly. Layla has to drag Steven with her in order for him to leave Kat.

Turning back to the group surrounding her, Kat smiles brightly, “So..who's first?”

A large man rushes at her, fist raised. Kat ducks and reaches up to grab the man's wrist, twisting it harshly until she hears a crack and the man clutches the injured hand to his chest as he cries out in pain. Another woman comes up behind Kat, grabbing her by the arm. Kat spins and kicks out into the woman's chest, sending her sputtering and hacking to the ground as she struggles to regain her breath. Kicking the woman away, Kat barely has time to jump away as a dark haired man with tan skin appears at her side with a knife. Rolling to the ground, Kat quickly jumps back up but many hands grab her at once and restrain her as the man stalks closer. Hands hold her arms at her sides and an arm around her torso keeps her still.

“I'm flattered you all want my attention so badly.” Kat quips, wary eyes watching the man come closer and counting the seconds as his knife glints wickedly in the string lights.

When he's about three steps away, Kat kicks back and uses her momentum to swing herself up and over the people holding her, landing behind them and kicking their legs out from under them as they tumble to the ground in a groaning heap.

“But,” Kat continues casually, throwing a blade spinning into the man's hand, cutting it clean off and delivering a brutal punch to his jaw, “I'm a bit busy right now, so…” Kat huffs and grabs a woman's hair, slamming her head into the pavement and immediately elbowing the next one to come close enough, breaking a rib at least, “If you don't mind, please…” Kat slips out of a man's reach and kicks at his head, hopping away before he can retaliate, “Kindly sod off.”

Kat is surrounded by people trying to kill her, there's too many to fight all at once and it's only a matter of time before she gets taken by surprise. Plus, the jackal had managed to slip past her while she was distracted by the fight in front of her and she needs to track it down and make sure it doesn't hurt Layla or Steven.

In the brief reprieve of fighting, while the people wait to see who will move next, Kat wipes the splatters of blood from her cheek, grimacing at the copper smell as it smears across her face.

“Well, it's been lovely,” Kat smiles sweetly at them, spinning in slow circles to not take her eyes off anyone, “But I really must go, gods know what Stevens gotten himself into now.”

Kat rolls her eyes fondly and moves to go to the stairs Layla had pulled Steven up, but the circle tightens around her, not letting her out. Frowning Kat gives the people in her way a warning look.

“Either let me through, or say hello to your ancestors real early.” She cautions, gripping her blades tight and raising them as she plants her feet.

The group only laughs and tightens further.

“Right. Well, I did warn you.”

Kat lets the warmth flood her muscles and veins, her face sets with determinations and her smile reveals her fangs glinting in the light. In a flash, Kat has sliced through five members' carotid arteries, her hands becoming covered in sticky scarlet blood that drips down her forearms. She spins and turns to the six members who block the way out to the street, flipping over them and harshly slicing down their backs, kicking the backs of their heads after they fall and knocking them out.

She turns and begins running towards the exit, to where beyond the arch lies an alley that Kat is sure will lead to the London streets. She's almost to the arch when a large man, three times Kats size, steps in front of her, effectively cutting off her path.

“Don't make me kill you.” Kat pleads, shaking her head sadly. The blood covering her arms is a branding of violence that she doesn't want to add to.

She has killed so many tonight and the tang of fresh blood invades her every sense with its sick smell. She can feel its stickiness on her skin like a second layer of clothes. These people, they weren't entirely evil, they fell prey to Harrow's ideology. She isn’t feeling guilty per say, more regretful for what she needs to do.

“You think you could hurt me?” The man spits, grinning crookedly as he chuckles a deep low rumbling sound.

“Step aside, let me go.” Kat asks him again, her heart sinking as he makes no move, only laughing more.

Running forward, Kat ducks and slides between the man's legs just as he makes a grab for her. Hopping up, Kat kicks at his back but he stands strong and solid. The man turns and goes to grab her again but Kat dances out of the way, bobbing on her toes as she circles him deftly.

While he is large and strong, Kat is quick and nimble, she can use that against him. Kat ducks under the man's swinging arm and delivers a series of quick punches to his chest and abdomen before quickly darting back and putting distance between them again. A dance between the rabbit and the hulking boar.

From behind her, Kat hears a crash and feels her worry spike. Sliding one of her blades into the other hand, Kat takes a running start and leaps onto the man's shoulders, tightening her legs around his neck as she holds tight to his head to keep her balance as the man swings and grasps at her to pry her off.

Kat pounds her fists into his head while she chokes him with her legs. The man stumbles into the wall, slamming her back against it a few times, the impact sending jolts of pain up Kats spine and stars in dizzying arrays across her vision, before falling to the ground weakly, his face turning blue as Kat keeps her hold tight.

Taking pity, Kat brings a blade to the man's neck, right where the spine meets the skull, and delivers a quick clean slice, killing him instantly.

As the man falls forward, Kat hops off him and kicks his body away, frowning sadly down at the man. Closing her eyes tightly, Kat swallows and breaths.

‘Not now,’ Kat thinks, as the tides rise and threaten to take her away, ‘Go, leave him, go now. Feel nothing.’

Kat builds a cool icy wall around her emotions and sets an impassive mask, running through the arch and out onto the busy street. Turning a sharp corner, Kat comes to an alleyway, crates stacked against the walls and a car is parked in the middle of it.

Kat has just started walking down the alley when a blur of white falls from above and lands in an impressive pose on the ground, still for a moment before he loses balance and falls to the side, waving his arm wildly as he goes.

The man is dressed in a crisp white suit with sweater knit vest, a silvery white tie knotted at his collar and a mask with badly made stitches running up it covers his face. Ethereally glowing eyes shine in expressive shock as he stands in front of a mirror, talking to it.

“Steven?” Kat hesitantly calls, her brows raising as Steven turns to her and she finally sees his full costume, “What are you wearing?”

“The suit?” Steven answers, unsure of himself as he looks down at his suit and back up to Kat.

“Your eyes are glowing.” Kat says dumbly, walking closer and examining his new look.

“Yours are yellow.” Steven responds slowly, as if he's afraid of offending her, “And slitted.”

Reminded of her form, Kat can suddenly feel the fangs in her mouth all the more sharply, can feel the weight of the blood on her and the knives in her palms.

“Oh, yeah.” Kat shrugs awkwardly, grimacing, “I um, I have some things to tell you.”

“Right, yeah that'd be great.” Steven says awkwardly, gaze pinned to the red on Kats hands and the tight black tactical suit she's wearing. His hands suddenly go to his pockets and pull two pearly white baton sticks, staring down at them in wonder, “What's this? What are these poles for?”

“Generally for hitting people with.” Kat tells him, chuckling as Steven starts flipping them around and dropping them clumsily.

“Pretty cool actually,” Steven says, his voice like a kids on Christmas, “Ha! I like this!”

Kat smiles and shakes her head fondly before getting back to business, “So, where's the jackal?”

Stevens' head snaps up to her, eyes widening guiltily.

Kat closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose as she slowly asks, “Steven, did you kill the jackal?”

“Uh, no?” Stevens' voice is embarrassed and meek.

“Okay,” Kat says slowly, already knowing she won't like the answer, “And where is the jackal right now?”

A crash sounds from above as Layla jumps from the window and lands next to them, regarding Stevens' outfit with amusement.

“You look different.” Layla comments, turning to Kat with an accusing look, “So do you.”

“Yeah,” Kat rubs the back of her neck and looks away, “About that-”

Her words are cut off as a large black figure jumps and lands in front of them. The jackal rises on its four legs and growls at them, its teeth bared as smoke trails around it in. It glows a vibrant purple and black as it hunches and readies for attack.

“Nice puppy…” Kat slowly walks towards the jackal, hands held out non threateningly, “It’s okay, it's okay.”

The jackal growls deeply and launches at her, tackling Kat to the ground. Its razor sharp teeth snaps at her as Kat pushes its maw away from her face, it's dark purple saliva dripping on her face as it struggles to bite her as she holds its mouth open.

“Not a nice puppy!” Kat shouts, grunting as the jackals' weight is suddenly pushed off her chest and she can breathe again.

Looking up, Kat sees that Layla has tackled the jackal and is trying fruitlessly to hold it down. Grabbing her blades from the ground, Kat rushes over and kicks the jackal off her, offering Layla a hand up which she accepts gratefully.

Kat hears Steven whimper and her eyes immediately find him. The jackal is stalking towards where Steven cowers against the wall.

“This man will be the death of me.” Kat mutters before leaping into action and jumping onto the jackals back, pushing it to the ground.

The jackals' large paw comes up and smacks Kats head, sending her flying into the wall and crumpling to the ground upon impact. In her head is a loud ringing and the sound of rushing blood, the world around her spins dizzyingly fast.

From above the ringing, Kat can hear Steven shouting something and a loud crash that sounds far away. Slowly the world comes back into focus around her, blurry and unfocused at first. Kat stares absently at the sight before her, Steven is pressed into the side of a car, choking, as the jackal holds him there.

Closing her eyes and swallowing the nausea forming, Kat shakily stands, leaning heavily against the wall as she waits for her balance to return. In a minute, Kat is back in action, ripping the jackal off of Steven and throwing it against the alley wall with all her avatar might.

The creature yelps as it hits the wall, quickly rushing back at Kat for vengeance. Glass shatters as Layla throws a beer bottle at the jackal, grabbing its attention. Old beer drips down the jackals corpse-like figure as it turns and runs at Layla.

“Oh no you don’t.” Kat grunts, grabbing its back paw and dragging it back to her.

The jackal spins quickly, biting at Kat and scratching her exposed shoulder, drawing rivulets of blood from the wounds. Kat hisses and instinctively reaches to clutch her shoulder, giving the jackal perfect opportunity to knock her down and hold its paw over her chest, holding her down.

“Get away from her, you!” Steven shouts, drawing the jackals attention as he backs away, taunting, “Yeah, I see you, you plug ugly coyote.”

The jackals paw leaves Kats chest and she heaves a gasping breath, watching Steven roll up his sleeves. In her slightly foggy state of mind, Kat can't stop her eyes from trailing along his forearms appreciatively, toned and tantalizing as they are.

“You’re in the wrong ends, mate.” Steven continues, so very British, “You're in my yards now.”

“Steven.” Kat coughs, pushing herself up on her elbows.

Stevens' eyes meet hers, a glowing white that Kat still can't get over, his face under the mask becomes sad and worried, turning back to the jackal with new purpose, “Yeah, come on, come on.”

Steven goads it, walking backwards as the jackal stalks towards him, drawing it away from Kat as he bounces on his toes like a boxer and raises his fists.

Kat knows she needs to get up, to protect Steven, she knows this and yet the ground is so comfortable right now. Layla rushes over to Kat, hitting her cheek lightly to bring Kat back to the present.

“Come on, come on,” Layla's muttering, pinching Kat's arm forcefully.

The shock of the pain brings Kat back immediately. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kat sits up fully, brushing away layla's worrying hands and mumbling, “I’m back, I'm back.”

Kat looks over to where Steven is practically dancing as he jumps around the jackal, “What is he doing?”

“I honestly have no clue.” Layla answers in disbelief, sharing a confused look with Kat.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, my name is Steven with a V!” Steven sings proudly, a nervous undercurrent in his voice.

“Dear god, he's rhyming!” Kat groans, secretly finding it endearing.

The jackal comes closer to Steven and Steven juts his fist out, smacking it in the face and sending the jackal flying back into the car.

Stevens' glowing eyes grow wide before shouting triumphantly, “I did it! You got planted!”

Stevens' happy laughter echoes through the alley and Kat couldn't be prouder.

Steven turns to Kat, calling, “Kat, Kat! Did you see that?”

“Yeah, I saw it Steven.” Kat laughs, pushing herself to her feet and beginning to walk over to Steven, teasing, “We need to work on your form though.”

“Nah, I think that was a proper punch.” Steven disagrees playfully, a crooked smile under the mask.

A flash of dark fur appears in the corner of Kats eye and in seconds Steven is pressed against the side of a passing bus, car horns honking as the man in white is thrashed against the metal of the bus. Cars swerve and blare around them as Kat runs out to help Steven.

The jackal holds Steven against the bus and swipes at him with its paws, knocking Stevens head side to side.

“Stop it!” Kat screams at the jackal, sliding over the hood of a stopped car as she crosses the street and ignoring the angry drivers, “Leave him alone!”

The jackal drops Steven and turns its attention to Kat. In a second, Kat is pressed back against the crumpling metal of a car's side door, the jackals teeth inches from her face as she pushes it back.

Kicking the jackal off her, Kat slices at its hide but it does little, only stalling the creature. Kat glances at Steven and sees a new man in his place, a long white cape and cloth wrappings around him as a suit that comes together at the crescent in the middle. The man from the museum. Marc.

In her distracted state, Kat doesn't notice how the jackal has gotten back up. A searing pain erupts in her shoulder, nerves on fire as the jackals' teeth sink into her. Kat lets out a groaning scream and grabs the jackals head, ripping its teeth away as Marc grabs it from behind.

“Get it out of here!” Layla screams at them.

Kat finally looks around, noticing the people around them. Glass shards scattered on the pavement and shining specks in the streetlights. Cars broken and mangled. People huddling together and staring at Kat and Marc.

Kat looks back at Marc's glowing eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Let's go.” Kat says to no one in particular, jumping up and turning to the jackal and snarling at it, “Let's get this beast under control.”

Marc nods and releases the jackal, leaping onto the top of a car and onto a rooftop, the jackal following close behind as Kat runs below them. Running through the streets, glancing up to make sure that she's still with them, Kat tries to remember the streets around her. Finding a stack of crates, Kat climbs them and pulls herself onto the roof across from Marc.

“Hey!” She shouts over to him, “There's a church a few streets down, I'm thinking impalement?”

Marc's steps don't falter as he runs, the only sign he heard her is the almost imperceptible nod he gives. Together they run under the glow of the full moon, leaping over rooftops in tandem as they make their way to the church, a dangerous bloodthirsty creature chasing them.

Kat skids to a halt as she reaches the end of the rooftop. Below her is the church courtyard and its tall sharp turrets. Triangles of mirrors by the fountain where water trickles from the sharp top that pierces in the night sky.

Kat watches in awe as Marc leaps from his roof, crescent cape flowing behind him, a star in the night sky. A gasp escapes her as Marc turns midair and shoves the jackal down onto the fountain's sharp point.

Carefully, Kat climbs down the roof's fire escape and walks to the fountain. She goes to cross her arms but lets them hang loosely at her sides as the movement causes a sharp pain in her shoulder.

“Impressive.” Kat comments, approaching Marc but keeping a cautious distance.

Marc only grunts, not even looking at Kat. His mask drops away from his face, revealing his deep frown and sharp features. His hard eyes and, though they are the same deep brown as Stevens, they are so different, so heavy.

“So..” Kat continues slowly, “Where's the scarab? Layla gave it to Steven earlier.”

Marc rolls his eyes, as if Kat's entire question is stupid, and goes to grab it from a pocket in his suit. His eyes widen and he begins to pat around his body frantically, cursing under his breath.

Kat sits down on the edge of the fountain with a resigned sigh, “You lost it?”

Marc turns on Kat, a glare set on his severe face, “It wouldn't be lost if you hadn’t distracted Steven.”

“Excuse me?” Kats jaw twitches as she stares at Marc incredulously, “You think it's my fault the scarabs gone?”

“It's your fault Steven even had the scarab in the first place!”

Kat pushes herself off the fountain and stalks up to Marc, pointing an accusing finger right in his face, “You are such a-”

“Such a what?” Marc challenges, tilting his head.

“Such a fucking hypocrite!”

Marc scoffs, rolling his eyes and stepping away, putting distance between them as he turns away from Kat.

“You're the one who became an avatar!” Kat shouts at his back, “You made that choice to go after that scarab, not me, not Steven, you.”

Suffice to say, they are not off to a great start. Kats moody and easily flaring personality paired with Marc's rough exterior creates a perfect storm for frustration.

“You think I wanted this?” Marc yells, pinning Kat with a harsh glare, “You think I wanted Steven to be mixed up in this?”

Kat sighs tiredly, her anger deflating, “No, I don't.”

Marc huffs and sits on the edge of the fountain, not looking at Kat but not dismissing her outright. They stay like that for a moment, silent as the air clears and becomes neutral once again.

“Let's start again,” Kat decides, tying her blades back in her bun, “Hi, I’m Kat.”

Marc gives a scoff, “Yeah, I know who you are.”

Kat frowns at him, moodily examining the punctures to her shoulder. They will heal, that’s a plus for being an avatar, but it will hurt for a bit.

Marc sighs, running a hand through his hair and letting his head rest in his hands, “You're the woman from the museum.”

Kat blinks, she had almost forgotten about that in all the recent events. Slowly she nods, cautiously walking to stand in front of Marc who looks up at her.

“Yeah… sorry about the whole,” Kat waves her hand around, “Threatening you bit.”

A short disbelieving laugh escapes Marc before he covers it with a frown again and Kat grins cheekily down at him in triumph.

“So you can laugh!” Kat teases, punching Marc's shoulder lightly.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Marc disagrees, back to being moody.

“Mmhm, sure you don't.”

Bastet appears behind Marc, batting at the water with her large claw-like hands. Her gaze slides over Marc's form, uncaring, and finds Kats eyes.

“You should go, it is never good to get entangled with Konshue or his avatar.” Bastet tells her, her low voice wise and old in that moment.

“Well if it's to stop Harrow, I think it may be worth the consequences.” Kat says.

“Who are you talking to?” Marc speaks up, looking over his shoulder but seeing nothing but the fountain.

Kat sighs, sitting next to him, deciding to trust him, “I'm an avatar too.”

Marc regards her curiously, eyes trailing over her clothes at the blood staining her arms and face. The fact that she isn't even bothered by the blood covering her, tells Marc that she is someone who’s used to it.

“Where's your suit?” He decides to ask instead of the questions burning in the back of his mind.

“In the laundry.” Kat says sarcastically, chuckling at Marc's frown and tells him, “This is it.”

“This,” Marc gestures at Kats tactical outfit, “Is your ceremonial robes?”

“Oh god no, those things are impossible to work in.” Kat chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she lets herself relax into the conversation.

“They're pretty simple, stay out of the way.” Marc disagrees, looking down at his own tightly wound wrappings. Bastet nods her head wisely behind him.

Kat snorts and shakes her head, “For you maybe, mine are different.”

“How so?”

“Ugh, they're so flowy and loose, more a dress than anything. Beautiful, but not practical.” Kat wrinkles her nose in distaste.

Marc hums but stays silent, staring into the distance with his hands steepled against his chin. Kat leans back on her hands and breathes in the quiet moment, taking stock.

They have lost the scarab which Harrow definitely has by now, Marc is in control, and Harrow is intent on releasing a world destroying crocodile lady. What a great combination.

Sighing, Kat rises and dusts her pants off. Stretching her arms and wincing as it pulls on her wound. Kat looks down at Marc, who is still staring into the distance contemplatively.

“I need to go take care of this,” She gestures to her shoulder where droplets of blood have begun to stain the edges of her top, “And get cleaned up.”

Marc nods, dismissing her with a grunt.

Kat frowns, unsatisfied with his response, pointing a stern finger at him, “Don't you dare go and disappear on me, okay?”

Marc's brows lower over his eyes, deep and calculating as he hums.

“I’m serious,” Kat insists, “If I don't find you at Stevens apartment tomorrow morning I will fucking hunt you down Marc Spector.”

“Is that a threat?” Marc finally looks at Kat, a mocking smirk on his face.

Kat chews her lip before saying with a haughty raise of her chin, “Yes, as a matter of fact it is. I'm threatening you.”

Marc huffs a throaty laugh, rolling his shoulders back as he stands, “Go, I won't disappear.”

Kat smiles at him brightly, thanking him, and walks off. Her form disappears into the shadows and Marc lets his shoulders drop, pushing down the lingering guilt for what he’s going to do. There is no way in hell he will let her follow him, no matter how bright and endearing her smile is