"We’ve kind of railroaded ourselves into fighting them I guess, and that means we're not going to need a way to bring Turnus out of his hole," Apollo said. "I know none of you want to hear that because violence seems to be the one thing most of you want to avoid."

He looked at everyone; Aenea, Dolores, Luanne, the child, the OTHER child (Flint) and of course Thaddeus. Dion still waited outside, by the window, due to problems with relations between him and Luanne (she hit him with a folded chair when he tried to talk to her) and because of this, Dion had to shut his mouth and just listen and tighten his lips every time something uncomfortable passed his ears. It was convenient for Apollo because Apollo had a knack for saying uncomfortable things. He could run his mouth off without any problems now. There was no better blessing than that.

"It j-j-just seems that we really don't need to kill any of them, you know? There's only three left right? Turnus, Ritcher and the mom?" Thaddeus.

"My mother is dead," Luanne said. "Ritcher killed her."

"How do you know?" Apollo asked.

"Because I betrayed her."

"Should I say sorry for your loss or thank you?" Apollo said.

"Asshole." He wasn't really sure who said that it seemed to come from everyone's mouth. Even Dion's.

"Whatever. We need to focus, right? Maybe we don’t need to kill them, maybe we just need to beat them so hard they’ll wish they died. Now earlier, Aenea, you told me you were willing to fight?" Apollo looked at her, she nodded. "It seems as though we've found an opportunity for you to fight. If I had to take a guess, Turnus really wants Dolores. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s something worse, an obsession. Or a mockery, if he even has pride."

Aenea and Thaddeus nodded.

"That’s good. He’ll come. We have the advantage in numbers."

"I'm not on your team -" Luanne said. "I'm just not against you, that's the deal."

“And I’m definitely not helping you kill Turnus,” Dolores said.

"Not kill, fight." He turned to Luanne. "And you really don’t have a choice, you understand? You’re an enemy by association, they’re not going to stop hunting you down, and if you want to be as safe as possible, you’ve got to help us. Better start playing buddy-buddy."

He looked at them all.

"We're going to attack Ritcher."

"That's insane," Luanne said. "You really don't know what he's capable of, do you? He's the strongest out of all of us, period. It'd take twice the men we have here to even try. Floyd was the closest thing to reaching Ritcher, but even he wasn't even ground."

"Well if Floyd was the closest thing to Ritcher, I don't think Ritcher’s that far ahead of the curve, is he? I mean where's Floyd now?"

She tightened her face and looked away, murmuring.

"You can get mad, or you can start being a team member. If you want asylum, that is. Because here's the truth, Luanne." He walked up to her, his back straightened and eyes peering down. "You can run away from Turnus or Ritcher or Aenea, maybe even for a few months. Tops. But I’ll make sure the Vatican kills you in half that time, if not by my hands then by another Vicar’s."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

What he forgot to mention was that this was the same Vatican trying to cut his head off.

"You're threatening me?"

"I'm telling you the truth. You tried attacking the person I’ve been tasked to defend. That's warrant enough to have your head. On top of that, you're a witch. Unstable, too. What do you think would happen if I brought that up?"

"You're not an asshole, you're a demon." She spat.

"I am what I eat." Apollo smiled. "Now if you’re done complaining, shut up and listen up.” He clasped his hands. "Dion and Aenea and myself will be assaulting the casino, we'll be killing Ritcher." He said. "You're going to sneak us in. You told me your power allows for the muting of sound too, right?"

"Only on solid ground. Water...anything wet really makes a sound." She said.

"Mud also leaves tracks. Dirt of any kind." Aenea added.

"That's fine. You'll get us as far as you can, and we'll lead a focused attack on Ritcher, no splitting up. We fight together."

"You'll die together," Luanne said.

"After you're done helping us, you're free to go wherever you want." He said. "You'll leave your kid with Thaddeus until then."

"No, hell no." She said.

"You'd rather take him onto the battlefield?"

"I have someone I can leave him with. Will that be good enough? Or are you going to threaten my child too" She turned a bit away from him, in disgust.

"Not yet," Apollo said.

"Come on!" Dion shouted from behind the window. "Be a little nicer."

"How is this going to get Turnus out?" Aenea asked.

"Well, once two targets disappear; Luanne and Ritcher, there’ll only be one left he's able to kill. With narrowed choices, we’ll make him come out. And then-" He turned to Dolores. “We’ll try our best to convince him to change his mind about everything. I’m sure you want to talk to him too, right?”

“A little.” She said.

“Well, this is the only way you’re going to be able to, on even grounds.”

"That’s still optimistic. What’s guaranteeing Turnus doesn’t just leave himself?" Aenea said.

"That's my read on Turnus. He's a narcissistic sociopath, he indulges on causing suffering, especially on people he hates. In effect, you."

They all stood silent, a fan moved above in slow pace. The wind wasn't strong enough to cool Apollo, who felt claustrophobic in the wedding room. All the space in the world could not capacitate the weight of their nervousness. It was dripping. It was hot. It was dense and crushing.

“You’ll protect me? Can you even do that, you’re a witch hunter, right?”

“Demon hunters!” Dion said from outside.

“Yeah,” Apollo said. “We can.”

"Alright," Aenea said. "Luanne, if you want what you want, you should take the offer. It really won't get better - for any of us. And they can protect you much better than I can."

Again, Apollo lied. He was good at it, didn't even frown or smile or make a move or twitch. What was the lie? Protection. It was a half a lie, really. Half of him was sure they'd accept his request to protect the witch. Half of him thought they'd cut his head off too.

"Fine," Luanne said. "It's not like I have a choice, is it? I mean, what choice do any of us have?" Her eyes fell. "It's just dumb bad luck, isn't it?"

"Existing is dumb luck," Apollo said. "Some of us either just accept life for the suffering it is, or lie to ourselves."

They didn't need to hear more. They just agreed, with silent resignation, and split apart into their own corner, each one taking a chair or a table or the side of a window where they could stare freely and emptily at nothing. That's what thinking looked like, after all, the face struggling to make any kind of face.

Thaddeus came up, a little shaken. He had in his hand a cloth, that resembled the wrapping of a baby.

“I was waiting for things to be done,” Thaddeus said. “D-d-didn’t want to interrupt, ya know?”

"What's this?" Apollo asked.

"Look inside, I had it fitted for you. I think it'll help." Thaddeus said.

He uncovered the clothes, whatever inside made his eyes widened. Then he looked up, to Thaddeus' face.

"I thought you didn't like making weapons?" Apollo asked.

"Is it really a weapon though? It's more like a tool."

"I guess you can call it that." He said.

It was an arm. Cast in black crystal. And Apollo raised it to the little nub on his own, lopped off arm and the ends of the black crystal arm clinched and clipped into him. His nub was forced into a small chamber within the prosthetic, it felt like a dog biting him. The clamp broke skin and muscle and bone. He made a face, one that melted away. Like the very pain he felt, quick and sharp and fickle. It made way to numbness. Then that too went away, almost immediately and he noticed his arm felt…heavy. Very, very, heavy.

"How's it fit?" Thaddeus asked.