She woke to the sound of whispering.

"You have to wake her."

"No. She has to rest."

"Yeah, at this rate, we're all going to end up in eternal rest. I don't care if you're trying to be a gentleman, or some other stupid idea has gotten lodged in your head, but I can guarantee you that she won't be happy to wake up and learn of this."

"Watch your tone," Samir whispered, sharp air hissing past his teeth.

Awareness came into her limbs all at once. For a long, breathless moment, Eve considered going back to sleep. Emptying her mind of all the countless worries and concerns plaguing her brain.

But time waited for no one, not even the gods. She peeled herself upright and found herself in a grimy, smoke-stained motel room. The bedframe, cheap white-painted metal squeaked as she stood. Her clothing stuck to her, as disgusting as the rest of the room. How apt.

Outside, the voices went silent, a guilty sort of pause lingering between them all for several moments. A room this cheap had no soundproofing to speak of, and they all knew this. Eve tested her weight, taking several rickety steps forward, and yanked the door to the hallway open.

"Morning boys," she murmured, feeling two heavy, evaluating gazes lodge on her face. They were sitting on the floor, backs against the wall opposite the door, dimly lit by cheap, fluorescent white.

Arman seemed to barely suppress a roll of his eyes. "So, the sleeping beauty awakens."

"Unfortunately," Eve retorted in a soft voice. "Date?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really."

"Well just so you know, it's been two days since you passed out." Arman shifted, drawing his legs up under him and stood stiffly upright. Then he sighed, low and exhausted, crossing his arms over his chest. One eyebrow lifted. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," she said curtly. "What's going on?"

"Business as usual," the redhead shrugged. "Except that the world might be ending."

Eve felt her brow furrow in quiet frustration. She understood that her...absence over the past few days would not have improved her standing in Arman's mind, but she had saved both their lives. The absolutely unveiled disdain rippling in her direction was beginning to feel a little unfair. Her evaluating gaze sharpened to a glare.

"Why are you saying that as though it is somehow my fault? And what do you mean?"

Arman's face contorted into a grimace as he threw his hands up. "I give up. Samir, you show her."

"Show me?" Eve was beginning to feel more and more confused, her frustration dissipating and the scowl sliding sideways off her face. "Show me what?"

"It's a little hard to explain," Samir said, and he too, stood - reaching after a moment for her hand, as though it was something expected. It slid, cool and steady and familiar into hers and pulled, ever so gently, guiding her back into the dingy motel room to the window. Then he drew the curtain back.

New York unfolded below them. It was early morning, and a thick cloud cover hung low over the buildings, licking across the tops of skyscrapers. It bathed the city in a drab gray-white, early morning lights and shadows bleeding through the mist.

Her stomach flipped.

Eve squinted, unsure why she felt so unsettled by the scene. More gray shapes twisted through the fog. Shapes that were, in absolutely no way, human in shape.

Nor did they seem to be entirely present. It was almost as though flickers of another world had begun to peek through into theirs, ghostly specters that appeared and disappeared. It was silent. No people, no cars on the street. Only the dull sound of the wind between the buildings.

A snake the size of a bus slithered down the street, arced up into the sky, and disappeared.

"A reality bleed," Eve breathed. She had known they were possible in theory. But for the second dimension to be flooding their own this way, the barrier had to be weakened, practically on its last legs. "Is it just here?"

"Told you she'd know what it was," Arman muttered from the back of the room, where he was standing right by the door. "No, it's happening in a few cities worldwide. Nobody knows what to make of it. Aliens is the most popular explanation right now. Governments keep trying to make contact, but it's almost as though those things aren't even conscious of our existence."

"Well they're a different species, certainly," Eve murmured, fingers tightening against the window sill. "Calling them aliens wouldn't be entirely wrong I suppose. Oh but this is bad," she fought to keep her heartbeat steady. "This is so bad."

An echo of Dorian's voice appeared to her, unbidden. Destroy he'd said? Had it been the barrier then, that they'd been aiming for?

There were few things that seemed more terrifying to Eve. It would release the dampener on power. If their tyranny was somewhat suppressed now, there was no saying how many would die if they were allowed free reign amongst the humans. Some of the Elder gods held a certain apathy towards the humans - but some, some were on the level of a calamity.

A shudder wracked her body. For a moment, she dared to imagine what would happen if Pestilence, or Famine, or anyone of the courts of rot managed to get free.

"They're your kind," Arman said, softly, from the back of the room, and abruptly, Eve understood where this undercurrent of animosity was coming from. A disruption of his world by a completely new being - yes, Eve would be frustrated as well. And scared.

There was no fear hidden in the lines of the man's face, but his anxiety was clear enough regardless. It was an emotion Eve was familiar with. She flinched, ever so slightly, shoulders drawing up by her ears. She'd met plenty of people that had felt similarly in the past. Saw her as a monster.

Samir's open acceptance had helped her forget for a few days, but there was a reason Eve never made any friends.

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"I need to go see it up close," she said softly, after several more moments of silence. They were too high up for her to sense the magic soaking the streets, and too far for her to get a good look at the creatures slipping through. For Eve to gauge how close they were to a total breakdown.

"We got you some clothes," Samir said at her side, yanking the curtains to their room shut. "In case you want to change first.

"You got me some clothes?" Eve blinked. A considerate gesture she hadn't been expecting.

"It's not like anybody's guarding the department stores right now," Arman smirked.

Eve scowled. "So you stole?"

"What? Don't act like you're so good either."

"But still. Robbery?"

He shrugged. "Times are tough. No need to make them tougher. And I wore a mask, I'm not totally thoughtless." Eve rubbed a finger between her pinched brows. Then she sighed, a mirror of the long, slow exhale Arman had expelled earlier, and held her arm out.

"I'm not going to say thank you."

"Wasn't expecting one in the first place."

Samir chuckled. "Like two squabbling children." Eve flushed, high up on her cheeks, and stole her first proper glance at the man. Again, he seemed altogether too calm for the situation, a flicker of amusement glinting in those smoky eyes. Before, Eve had found it reassuring.

Now, she began to find it a little suspicious.

What kind of human wouldn't be rattled by what was happening outside?

There had been a theory forming in her mind for a while now, but she had never seen any concrete proof of her suspicions. That perhaps Samir wasn't entirely mortal either.

Had she even seen him bleed?

She'd seen blood on him, certainly. On his clothes. His skin. But not once had Eve ever seen him injured. Regardless of her personal feelings, Eve had to admit that there were few reasons for her to trust the man. No reason for the warmth of his smile to curl, with familiar tenderness, in the crevices of her chest. No reason for him to look at her with such care - to protect her at the cost of his own safety.

Perhaps she looked a bit stricken, because Samir's smile faded a tad, and instead quirked into a soft concern.

"Eve?" A plaintive laced into the single word. Her heart beat, once, full, swelling in her ears.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," she said, hurrying towards the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. "Don't move. And don't go outside."

"Wasn't planning on it," came Arman's drawl, muffled only slightly by the flimsy wooden door.

She scrubbed, vigorously, under the hot water, sand and grime turning the water gray before it once again ran clean. Smelling faintly of artificial citrus and dressed in a soft, white dress that felt as though it were far more expensive than anything Eve had ever owned, she stomped back into the bedroom, shoving anything she could get her hands on into a black, plastic, liquor bag.

In went the hotel phone. In went the iron, and the hairdryer, yanked from the wall and still covered in plaster dust. Arman and Samir just watched her silently, without complaint or question, and Samir even handed her the single, plastic cup that had been placed by the bed.

Somewhat satisfied, she twisted the bag around her wrist, and set her fists on her hips.

"Well? Ready?"

"Are we coming with you?"

Eve faltered. "Well, you don't have to-"

Samir raised his hand. "I am only asking because even last time, it did not seem we were of help."

"No," Eve began, and as she spoke, began to realize the truth of her words. "You were. Helpful." There was no way she would have been able to take out all those men by herself. No way she would have been able to rid herself of Dorian without Samir's help. She inhaled, long and slow. The words pushed out as though through a grater. "Come with me?"

In response she received only a smile of molten gold, and a single nod. Samir stood, tossing a half-hearted glance back at Arman. "Bring the items."

"Yes, sir," said the redhead, throwing a mock salute. He followed them carrying a suspicious metal briefcase, the type Eve had only ever seen in movies.

The mists smacked them with a wall of humidity as soon as they pushed the hotel door open. They must have made an awfully odd trio like this; Eve swinging her garbage around, and the other two in full combat gear, silhouetted against the white.

It was eerie. She had known it would be, and yet Eve found herself more ill at ease than expected, swirling shapes slipping by and through them. A screaming face - mouth open in terror, the whites of the eyes shining - floated past them, body missing. A drone pattered after it, humming faintly. Eve reached into her bag, withdrawing the pen and pad of hotel stationary she'd shoved in there earlier. A familiar symbol flowed, dry black ink on cream, in the shape of something that could have been celtic but twisted, trailing into a complicated trail of letters that were utterly otherworldly.

Her movements wavered, brain spinning, unsure of how to proceed. She sucked Arman's confusion into her flesh, ignored his peering gaze. The paper crumpled weakly beneath the strength of her grip, and Eve tossed it up, high, releasing the magic in a soft murmur.

A flare of violet, and the mist began to dissipate.

Sure enough, it was more obvious this way. The overlapping streets of the upper worlds, and the beings wandering them. As though there was nothing more than a skin-thin film separating the two. It hurt to look at, the duality of her vision flickering, as though the air itself had split in two. The disconnect made her a little nauseous, and she could understand why the humans were reacting so slowly, mortal senses utterly overwhelmed.

Eve had never seen the dimensional barrier so damaged. She sucked in a breath, and it felt shallow. Her pen began to move across the paper again, tearing page after page from the notebook, shoving loose-leaf sheets into her pockets.

Soft, fluffy clouds began to close in around them again. There hadn't been an obvious crack, so Eve didn't bother blasting them back again. It was as though the entire thing had been...attacked. Thinned.

But it had been done from the other side. Eve wouldn't be able to tell from here. Wouldn't be able to fix it unless she could see it up close.

"Hey," she said softly, unsure of how they would take to her idea. Her face tipped back, meeting two attentive gazes. "We have to go in."

"In there?" Arman seemed skeptical. "Are you sure we can?"

"Yes," Eve breathed. "It'll take some preparation." She hadn't done it in ages. It took too much energy. But if she had a location she could - theoretically - pass through the barrier.

Just as the Elder Gods could, if they were willing to pay the price.

Arman shrugged. "If you say so." Samir smiled.

"By all means," Samir gestured, an indication that she should get started.

Eve began with the chalk.

Another symbol, one that was similar to the one she'd used when trapping the Sanctifier in Cropis. A half-circle of softly pulsating, violet vines, and an enormous, all-seeing eye in its center. She omitted the symbols of binding, the shackles, and replaced them with the mark of free passage. Then, in the pupil, she placed their coordinates. Ghostly fingers ran along her arm, then through her, pulling a revolted shudder from deep in her chest.

Fuck, it was as though the monsters were becoming more solid by the minute.

Goosebumps still rippling across her skin, she called them forward. "Samir, hold onto Arman."

"Got him," Samir said, pushing Arman into the chalked arena. Eve reached backwards, blindly, drawing the final arc of the circle, effectively sealing it shut.

"You'll have to hold on. If you don't want to die."

"Die?!" Arman had been closest. At her words, he yelped, drawing his hand back abruptly. But it was already too late. Eve lunged, yanking him forward, fingers lacing tightly with his.

That familiar sensation, the pitch black dizziness dotted with distant lights overtook her.

Her neck was open wide as they slipped through the edges and onto a dimly lit courtyard. The clawed limbs of the hallow, flying directly at her, however, were more than expected.

If the Elder Gods were going to do something as dangerous as attacking the barrier, they would certainly have some guards at the ready.

Her eyes flicked sideways. She tossed another paper ball, and watched the creature shatter as it came into contact with the charm.

"You've gotten faster," Samir said softly. He had his hand on his gun, but his fingers had stilled on the holster, thrumming in a thoughtful rhythm. The soft silver of his rings shone with a dull, unusual light. "And you don't seem as exhausted this time."

"It could have still raised the alarm. And I'm planning to fix it. I can't keep fainting like some Victorian damsel."

Arman snickered. "Yeah, that was getting a bit old." She was about to scowl, but Samir shot him a warning glance in her stead, which seemed to quiet him a bit.

"So?" Samir cocked his head. "How are you going to fix it?"

Eve grimaced.

Honestly? She only really had one idea.

"Well, first we should get out of the open. But next, we have to go see someone I really don't like."