"Alright, Breaches. Time for round three." Irene looked up from the desk in the bedroom, a game of solitaire underway. With her middle finger missing, it was still hard to shuffle, but she was finding other ways around it. She held her breath, unsure what 'round three' meant, worried he might try to break past her barriers yet again.

"We've got intel on a house that Gabriel owns. Which surprised me as I thought I knew most of his holdings," Cyrus remarked as he stood in front of the mirror, looking at the pink mark left from the previous fight.

Irene let out a sigh of relief. Nonchalantly, showing an interest to avoid any indication she was nervous, she asked, "How credible is the source?"

"Eeeeeh... I'm not entirely sure. But once the report of how badly we were trounced last night reaches Gabriel, he won't expect us to keep up the offense," Cyrus explained as he went over to his wardrobe.

"And if it's a trap?" Irene asked guardedly as she placed a card on one of the foundations. She went to pick up another but it slipped through her hand. She calmly retrieved it with her left hand instead. Getting frustrated at herself was a waste of energy.

"Well, then we spring it and he can't use it against us later." Cyrus shrugged as he opened and closed a drawer.

Irene glanced up, then quickly looked away. "Change in the bathroom!"

"Hey, it's my room. I can change where I want." A soft thump was heard, and the snap of cloth being shaken out abruptly. "Gabriel only cut off your finger, he didn't cut off your eyelids. Don't like what you see..." the sound of a zipper filled in the pause of his statement, "...then don't look."

Irene sighed and closed her eyes. "Just tell me when you're done."

"I might be a while," Cyrus responded. She groaned, folded her arms, and slumped over on the desk, burying her face in her sleeves. "Hmmm... tight black t-shirt to wear into battle, or classic button-up? Or maybe a slightly less tight black t-shirt. I do love looking the part, but maybe it's time for a change. A splash of colour that is more the new 'me'. The blood stains won't show up too badly if I wear the red, but it's such a nice material I wouldn't want it to get ruined. Besides, I don't want to show up at Gabriel's doorstep looking too sexy. He hates being outshone."

Irene started to say something, but her voice was muffled. She lifted her head, eyes still shut tight. "Just pick something!" She then placed her head back down.

"Fine, fine." Another zip could be heard. "Though really Irene, it's not like you hadn't seen me naked before. Bodies oughtn't be offensive," Cyrus chided.

Irene just shook her head, keeping her head down. "Maybe, but you are offensive," she retorted.

Cyrus laughed. "Alright, it's safe to open thine virgin eyes!"

Irene peered one eye open, almost expecting it to be a trap. To her relief, he was standing in front of the mirror, fully clothed, running a comb through his hair.

"Hey Irene?"

"What?" Irene asked, still somewhat irritated as she began gathering up the cards.

"This is going to sound REAL sappy but..." Cyrus trailed off as he turned his head to each side, continuing to primp as he spoke, "...I hope Jordan recovers."

Irene's hands shook. She gripped the box of cards tightly. "Me too," she said quietly. "Why?"

"Eh, your life has sucked lately. It's about time something goes right for you." Cyrus shrugged as he ran his hand through his hair. "With what you've discovered about yourself, things might not be what you'd hoped. But if he's managed to get your good opinion, he's probably a decent guy. And a decent guy won't ditch you because you're not up for sex."

"Cyrus... please don't," Irene rebuked sullenly. "I get you're trying to be nice, but... just... stay out of this."

"Nice?" Cyrus chuckled, turning away from the mirror. "Hardly! I was just about to add 'and since I haven't ditched you for not putting out, guess that makes me a decent guy too'!"

Irene stared at Cyrus. She looked at the door. She looked back at Cyrus. Without a word, she left the bedroom, hearing his laughter until she shut it out with the shutting of the door.

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The Cozee Coffee Shop was a hub of activity as Cyrus's faction prepared another assault. Irene did her best to not be under foot, but it wasn't easy. She ate her leftover Chinese food while sitting in a corner, watching the vampires all bustle around her. They were quite varied. Some looked very plain, like Cody, and dressed very casually. Some, like Cynthia, dressed up to look the part. Though Cynthia did not seem to be among their numbers that night. Irene wondered, even hoped that Cynthia took a thrashing in their previous operation.

Just as Irene had tossed the disposable containers in the garbage, she was approached again by Cody.

"Uh, I was told to get these for you..." His cheeks looked flushed and he avoided eye contact. Irene wasn't sure she wanted to know what was in the bag he handed her. He immediately turned and hastily shuffled off. She sighed and peered in. It was a pill bottle. She held it up and read the label. Iron pills. Why would he blush about that? Irene considered that perhaps it wasn't the pills that had him blushing, but his proximity to her. Great. She didn't need another vampire enthralled with her. She almost missed him being straight-up interested in her blood. Or was that it? Is he just not sure how to handle his desire to drink blood from someone forbidden?

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Irene turned the bottle over, checking to make sure it still had a seal and wasn't being used to conceal something else. Naturally, Cyrus would make sure she could keep her blood healthy. She wasn't sure whether to be irritated by this or not. But at least it wasn't a bowl of watery clam chowder.

Just as Irene was heading back to the bedroom, Cyrus stopped her in the hall.

"What?"

"We're heading out now," Cyrus said, nodding to a few vampires walking past. "Wish me luck."

"Take him down." Irene actually smiled. This was one thing she did want to encourage him in. Cyrus placed his hand on the back of her neck, and before she could look away he kissed her cheek.

"Bye, Breaches," Irene blinked furiously as Cody and another vampire walked by. Cody was, again, looking unusually pink in the cheeks for a vampire and was trying to look away as he followed behind. Embarrassment flushed Irene's face and she turned away. She hated everyone thinking she belonged to Cyrus, and no doubt that kiss was less a sign of affection, and him marking his territory.

Soon everything was quiet and still. Irene finally had the place to herself and could get some sleep. Several times throughout the day she'd had dizzy spells. So she took the iron pills as directed, changed into her pyjamas, and curled up in bed. To her surprise, sleep came to her easily, and peacefully.

Alas. The serenity of sleep was shattered with a clatter. Irene sat up in bed, straining to listen. Disorganized and clumsy, the noises continued below her, cultivating unease.

Crash!

Irene's pulse quickened. She slipped out of bed and got down on her hands and knees to crawl noiselessly towards the door. There were voices. At first the words were inaudible, but as they came closer, she could make them out.

"-everywhere! Take back any mortals that are still alive, and let's torch this place!"

Blood rushed like a rapid river in her ears, making it harder to pick out each distinct sound. Irene was certain that these were Gabriel's men, and she needed to calm her heart lest it lead them to her.

"You two, split up and search every room. If you find her, Gabriel wants her alive."

Irene closed her eyes, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. She could hear people moving around down the hallway. Eventually, she heard a clicking at her door. She held her breath and watched, expecting it to burst open forcefully any second. There was a scraping noise and the door yawned open instead. Audible footsteps could be invaded, accompanied by the squeak of leather. A shadow grew before Irene, and she slowly looked up to the figure which cast it.

"There you are."

"Cynthia?" Irene peeped. Relief and suspicion battled for supremacy in her uneasy mind. Cynthia nonchalantly put both of her arms behind her back and stepped towards Irene.

"Awe… what a frightened little duckling you are… and I'd heard that you were feisty," Cynthia taunted.

Irene rose and squared her shoulders. "Are you here to help me or help Gabriel?" Irene demanded, trying to banish the shakiness from her voice.

Cynthia smiled and bared her fangs. "That's a little more like it," she whispered cattily. "I had no idea who you were when Kendrick first brought you in. Imagine my surprise when I found out Cyrus's secret was just little miss vanilla slice."

"I repeat, whose side are you on?" Irene reiterated as calmly yet firmly as possible.

Cynthia sighed, her eyes rolling as she stifled a fake yawn. "What a bore. I was hoping you'd be jumping at your own shadow by now. I suppose my ventriloquist act needs work."

Irene's eyes narrowed. "You!"

"I'm quite talented at mimicry aren't I?" Cynthia's well manicured hands fanned herself.

"Did you cause the nightmares, too?" Irene accused, her calmness fading as a new surge of anger dislodged her panic.

"Nightmares? Oh, I do hope so!" Cynthia licked her lips. "Well, we don't have a lot of time. If you get on your knees and beg, I won't turn you over to Gabriel's men." She smirked cruelly, arching an eyebrow.

Irene stared at the snitty vampire in abject disbelief. She wants me to beg? Why? What's her problem?

"Well? Tick, tock, tick, tock." Cynthia urged impatiently.

Irene had her pride, but she also had a life to preserve. Her own. Grudgingly she got down onto her knees, glaring at Cynthia the entire time. "Please… don't tell them…" Irene tried to keep the vitriol out of her voice with mixed success.

"Hmph… I suppose that will do…" Cynthia gave a disappointed pout. "Oh well, I'll keep up my part of the deal I suppose. I won't bring you to Gabriel's men..." she said dryly as she unfolded one arm from behind her back in a flowery gesture.

Irene's eyebrows rose in alarm, her breaths going shallow at the sound of a click. Once again, she was staring down the barrel of a gun, albeit this one was much smaller. Before she could react, a loud BANG pierced her ears. Even greater pain exploded through her chest.

Irene fell back as the burning metal burst through her body in an instant. She didn't feel herself hit the ground. She was only aware of a wet sensation as the ceiling spun. Her knee-jerk reaction was to put her hand on the place where it hurt, but she could not a single muscle move.

Am I dreaming again? Beyond that, Irene could not hold onto a single thought, as the pain and shock denied her of coherence.

Amidst the swimming, abstract sensations, something blurry hovered above her eyes. There was heat all around her and the smell of smoke. Desperately, her eyes tried to focus. The form almost took shape, and she heard a voice - although it sounded ethereal and far away. The words were audible, but she was slow to recognize them, as she lay there hyperventilating. Just as her languishing mind was able to sort the syllables into words, the fire around her roared and drowned them out.

"…your life. I… …. ..ave… … .ere… sooner. …ease ..rene … forgive me…"

Irene moaned and closed her eyes, overwhelmed from the strain of trying to see blurry shapes. With one sense eliminated, her mind could once again form a cohesive thought.

I'm dying.

Irene didn't know how she knew this, but it felt more certain than anything else in her life. This prompted her to let out another moan as she felt numbness at the very core of the wound, and only in the absence of pain did it register just how unbearable the agony had been. She opened her eyes again, seeing the face closer. Her eyes came into focus just moments before they rolled to the back of her head. She saw the face of a woman, with deep, dark eyes. The last thing Irene remembered feeling was her head being lifted, and a salty metallic taste in her mouth.