Chapter Text
A woman stands over the balcony watching the guests mingle, drinking their champagne, gossiping about the week's events.
High class and beautiful, she's dressed in a sea blue gown, long hair and skin dusky.
Thomas is behind her, observing the scene.
It takes him no time to realize this is a dream, a depiction of a possible future, but he struggles to understand its meaning.
The house, the woman, the guests, none of it appears familiar to him.
Then, she swings around, sipping on her glass.
She sees past him, walks straight through him.
Twitching from the awkward sensation Thomas follows, knows its her the dream is about.
The woman moves from her room down the stairs, passing several men in suits, each nodding and saying how stunning she looks.
From these encounters Thomas learns her name is Stefanie Winslow. It doesn't rings a bell.
Passing through the living room Stefanie goes into a back room, locks the door.
Thomas walks through the door ghost like.
And it is here where things click.
A man greets her with a wicked smile.
Well groomed, middle aged. He looks like he'd be a perfect fit on Wall street or in Congress.
"Is everything in place?"
The man asks, his voice smooth.
"The shelter head expects nothing. She makes an easy pawn in our game."
Stefanie laughs. Its sharp, venomous.
"The Void will be pleased. Its been too long since it has been sated with the blood of children."
Demons!
"Send your men on Halloween night,"
Stefanie instructs him,
"I'll leave the front door open."
The man vanishes then. She leaves.
Thomas tries to follow, door locked.
He goes to kick it open, a hand grabs him instead...
He came awake with a start, Andrea hovering over his bed, her hand on his shoulder.
"Jesus."
Thomas whispered irritably,
"Stop doing that."
"You weren't suppose to follow."
She said back casually,
"You already got the information you needed."
Thomas sat up in bed, feeling the cool wooden frame against his back.
"How? All I know is that the Void plans on attacking a shelter for children."
"That's the most important bit. Now, I'm here to give you additional info."
He watched the Angel go to the table and pull over one of the chairs, kicking her feet up on the ends of the bed.
"Getting comfortable eh?"
Thomas smirked. Andrea grinned back.
"One of the Demons,"
She began,
"Is of the shapeshifter type. The woman you saw? Stefanie Winslow? She's a real woman, or rather was. She's been dead ten years, died in a car crash on route to Toronto."
"If she's been dead that long, why is the Demon bothering taking her form?"
"Because Stefanie was a shelter manager in Ontario, a good one at that. The Demon is using her skin as a disguise."
Shapeshifter Demons, one of the oldest kinds, were a rarity nowadays. No Knight he had ever talked with or encountered fought one.
Before now he thought they went extinct decades ago, but apparently not.
Sitting up Thomas pushed off the bedsheets, revealing his scarred torso, and stretched.
"If the real woman is dead,"
He said,
"How is the Demon fooling anyone? The internet is a thing."
Andrea shook her head.
"Tommy Tommy Tommy. Has your age gotten to you? You do remember Demons possess Magic right?"
He answered in the affirmative and went into the kitchen to make a coffee, hoping that this motel gave him a good brand this time and not the No Name shit he'd been forced to drink for the last three months.
"So you're saying the Demon is using her skin plus mind control to infiltrate the shelter?"
He asked starting the water.
"Boy, you catch on quick."
"Who was the suit?"
"Arthur Logan. A former Knight of the Word."
'A fallen Knight?'
Thomas couldn't believe it. Another rogue Knight?
And this one actively helping the Void?
"Former?"
"The Word lost him a century ago. His family died in a fire while he was away at the time serving. He fell into Darkness and the Void exploited it, corrupting him."
Remembering his wife and son Thomas considered how easy it would have been for him to fall, to become twisted by the Word's enemy.
Many Knights throughout the Order's history ended up Demons. Some of the oldest Demons alive today were once Knights who gave up their Staffs in exchange for immortality and Dark Magic.
Once the water began to bubble he turned off the stove and fixed his drink, sipping thoughtfully, letting the warmth of it sink in.
"What's the location?"
"A small town along the Eastern Shore, Gibbon's Bay."
She rose from the chair, shoving pieces of raven black hair out of her face.
"The Lady doesn't want you going alone, though."
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Your opponents are both vastly more experienced than you for one thing."
"So I take it you're coming?"
"Yes, and so is Natalie MacDonald and Ariana Marconi."
At first he thought this was another one of her jokes, it being two years since either had seen the two, but when it became clear she was waiting for a reponse, he just stared blankly at her.
"Natalie's Magic grew stronger,"
Andrea said,
"And since you left Ariana's taken on quite an interest in the Supernatural and spells. While not a natural born Mage, she's certainly talented and capable."
"There's a difference between knowing Magic and actually fighting."
He pointed out, draining his coffee and sliding the cup along the counter.
"You and I are seasoned veterans, servants to a cause we both understand. Those two were exposed once to the Void. Once. How in the hell could they possibly be of any use?"
"The Lady commands it."
The tone of finality in her voice irked him, knowing there was nothing he could do to change it.
Glancing at his Staff resting by the bed Thomas sighed, walking over and picking it up.
The Magic, as it always did, came alive at his touch, the Runes pulsing a fierce blue.
"Do they know we're coming?"
"They will. Meet me in Hopewell."
He turned to say something.
She was gone.
"Angels."
He grunted, beginning to get dressed.
Stepping out into the cold morning air Thomas lit a cigarette, cradling his Staff in his arm.
The motel parking lot, dark and gloomy, was empty save for the manager and two other patrons staying a few doors down.
Exhaling he watched the smoke evaporate as he thought on what The Lady asked of him.
Bring along Natalie and Ariana for backup, both being more competent than he gave them credit for, but he couldn't see how.
Not that he doubted they could be useful given enough training, but plucking both out of the security and safety of Hopewell and slapping them down into a middle of a centuries old war didn't seem like the most solid of ideas.
Nonetheless he couldn't object.
His job as a Knight was to follow orders, whether he fully understood their rationale or not. The Lady had never been wrong in her judgement before, he wasn't about to seriously think she was now.
Taking a final drag off the cig and rubbing it out with a boot Thomas began walking toward the pay phone near the highway, hoping to hire a taxi.
Out in the middle of nowhere in Antigonish wasn't exactly taxi friendly territory but he had no choice since he couldn't drive himself and no Greyhound went through the area.
He heard a man's voice as he went, coming from one of the rooms behind him.
Muffled and angry he screamed, voice growing louder.
"Trouble in paradise."
Thomas grinned, wondering what the poor soul on the other end did to receive such tongue lashing.
Suddenly the door swung open, a woman running out.
"HELP ME PLEASE!"
Behind her came a man, slim and timid looking....
A knife in his hand.
On instinct Thomas went for the Magic, beginning to summon it when he stopped abruptly, realizing what he was about to do.
'Don't reveal yourself!'
Forcing the energy back he went forward instead, placing himself between the woman and the man, slamming his Staff down on the ground.
The man, enraged, said nothing.
"What's going on?"
Thomas asked, tilting his head slightly to the woman.
"He...he paid me...he wanted..."
She coughed, struggling to get the words out.
"He paid you to have sex with him."
Thomas finished for her.
"Yes...."
"Apparently,"
He said, grip tightening on the Staff,
"He had another idea."
"Mr. listen."
The man said finally,
"She stole my wallet. Just want it back."
"So you chased her with a knife out into the open just for a wallet? Ever hear of police?"
Thomas sized his potential opponent up, figuring he'd be able to knock him down with a good hard crack to the head, but hoped it wouldn't come to that. He wasn't supposed to hurt humans.
"Tell you what?"
Thomas gestured,
"I'll get your wallet back and you can go on your way."
"I---"
"Look,"
He moved closer, lifting the Staff,
"Its either I get your wallet and we all go home. Or I bust your skull open and you slip into a coma you may never wake from."
Instantly the knife came rushing at him, speed incredible for a man so small and unimposing.
A stinging feeling caught Thomas in the neck as he ducked, the blade managing to slice a bit of flesh.
The Staff whipped across the man's knees, smashing into them, breaking bone.
The man fell, howling, hands grabbing the busted limbs.
The Knight stepped forward. Met his gaze.
"You made your choice."
"NO! PLE---"
CRACK!
Blood sprayed, soaking the parking lot concrete.
Half alive, the man gurgled something inaudible.
"You didn't have to do that!"
The woman screeched.
"Did you take his wallet?"
Thomas asked, ignoring her outburst.
"Yes..."
"Make sure he gets it back at the hospital."
Pushing past the dumbfounded woman Thomas headed for the pay phone, shaking his head at the mess people make for themselves.