For about the hundreth time since coming too, Wesley strained his wrists against the ropes that were keeping his hands behind his back. So far, he had been able to decern very little: his surroundings were dark, it was damp in here, and the people standing in a circle chanting around him were in a word nuts. "You know they're really not going to be happy when they see you've kidnapped a city detective. My partner is probably on her way right now with enough fire power backing her up to blow your sorry asses to whatever spaceship you're praying to," his voice burbled out between dry lips and the ache of his head. His head was pounding, his vision and hearing a little questionable, and he felt disoriented. What he wasn't sure about was if these were the side effects of a bump to the head or chloroform.

"That's enough talk, we need you to save your strength,"a busty, full figured woman with bright red lips broke away from the circle. In the dim light that was available, Wesley could see what appeared to be the points of two fangs protruding over her bottom lip. A pale, almost translucent hand reached up from her side to push his black hair away from his eyes. An instant later she was backhanding him with unnatural force to the jaw, hoping to numb his mouth. "As soon as it's midnight you're petty little life will end and you can serve a more noble purpose," she purred, dragging her nails over the splotch of bright red on his cheek where she had left an outline of her hand.

Wesley spit onto the ground, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. Oh how he hoped she would get a cell with Big Bertha, in fact he might just see to it personally that she did, but the sounds of hissing and lapping tongues mused him from his wanderings as he noticed a few of the members moving towards the drops of blood on the floor hungrily. Just who the hell were these people?

Another fron the group, a taller, hooded figure came at them, with wide shoulders and not a trace of him visible except a pair of slender hands. The skin on his hands seemed dry and although dark, seemed to be missing that glow the sun provides, so it looked almost dead. "Would you mind not getting damaging the sacrifice, cherie?" Judging by the deep, playful voice, it was by no doubt a man. "We have our lives to get back, we don't want to lose it on technical difficulties."

~*˜*~

While Wesley was trapped in some unknown region of the world, his partner was doing the impossible to find him. Racing in her motorcycle, her bluetooth pressed to her ear, Eden shouted as she gave a sharp turn in an intersection. "I don't care what you have to do, just find him!" she ordered, the helmet covering her face not only useful against bugs, but against the wind from interfering in her conversation. As her messy brown hair flapped behind her from under the helment, playing with the wind, she still dashed forward, impatient. Biting her soft, pink lips, she couldn't help herself from inwardly cursing. 'Stupid idiot partner, you should have left the hard missions to me' she thought, her eyes narrowing as she kept increasing the speed. He said he was going to follow a lead, nothing more! Agh! Men!

With no coherent thought, she kept pushing forward, analizing his latest behavior and going by the usual haunts and past places of the rite. Stupid satanists, children with nothing better to do... Please Wesley, be safe...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Buttercup.. Sacrifice? You really don't want to sacrifice me... I'm an agnostic. More like blasphemer even. I'd just get a return to sender stamp.. might not put you in good standings with the big guy," swollen jaw and all, Wesley was still able to mumble out his words. One thing many people at the station complained about was his never ending mouth. And just maybe, maybe, he thought, it would help buy him some time right now. How had following a lead in a murder investigation come to this? He had been careful. Remembered his gun, hadn't left his backside exposed, but sure enough, here he was wrapped up and ready to be offered up by some whack jobs playing dress up in someone's basement. His mind wandered back to Eden, his partner, and while she had been upset that he had left on his own without letting her handle it, he was most certainly glad he had gone himself right now. One dead detective isn't nearly as bad as two. At least someone would be able to carry on the case.

Lillian scowled, and hissed at the male, letting her fangs show behind her hood. "It's one little hit to shut him up. It's harder to perform the ritual when they refuse to stop talking. You want this one screaming as well?" she practically snarled, and withdrew back into the ranks. Meanwhile, her eyes watched playfully as a few of the members were trying to control themselves over the smell of blood. She held up her hand, closing her fingers into a tight fist. And then, as if caught by a lasso, the other figures fell back into ranks. "No one touches him. You idiots will drain him like the girl last month. He needs to keep his blood until the Elder arrives!" she snarled at them, flicking her bright yellow eyes to the other for support.

Elder? Blood? I was right, these creeps are behind the murders. But what the hell are they on? Wesley's mind race from question to question as he craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the clock on the far wall. That seemed a bit out of place to him, but at the moment it was a bitter comfort to him. It told him he about 15 minutes to live if things went the group's way.

"Yes, yes, Lily-cherie," said the male kneeling now in front of Wesley"Your word is absolute, until the Elder speaks." William's voice was a lot more playful than hers, and so was everything about him. Now being face to face to him, Wesley could see the thin nose, the sharp yellow eyes and high cheekbones, all wrapped around a pallid dark skin. His thin lips were twisted into a smile as he searched his cloak, telling Lillian, "Silence may be golden, but you must never forget, duct tape is silver." Taking out a roll, he broke a piece with his teeth, who were also visibly longer than the average human's, and placed it softly over his mouth. "We don't want you getting yourself killed like a fish, would we?" he whispered to his ear, patting the reddened area in his cheek softly, before joining the ranks himself.

˜*˜*˜

For the dozenth time, as she raced by the city streets for anything strange, Eden tried her luck at Wesley's cell phone once more. "Pick up, pick up, pick up..." she chanted, hoping he at least still had his cell phone with him and the idiots at the department could use her calls to zero in on him. Of course, he had an absurd quantity of messages criticizing and insulting him in the most florid of vocabularies by now, but she was secretly crossing her fingers that he'd answer this time, or at least that he'd get the chance to hear the barrage of insults. "You fucking bastard! If you're not dead by the time I get my hands on you, I swear I will fucking kill you! We are fucking partners, dammit, partners... what... what will I do without you..." Her voice was breaking, luckily enough after the end of message tone had sounded. She couldn't let anyone see her like this, so weak and vulnerable, much less him. She wasn't sure that mattered anymore, though.

Wesley didn't know what encouraged him to do so, but at first when he saw the strand of duct tape coming towards his mouth he instinctively drew his head back and gnashed his teeth at this man. That is, until he saw the almost dead looking hands and face, and teeth that would put his dog to shame. These people were either unnatural, or had money to blow on dentistry. With that, when William pulled away Wesley was quiet for probably the first time in his life. He felt a vibration in his coat pocket again and looked down, trying to shimmy his hands free. His phone had been going off nonstop, he was positive it was Eden searching for him. If he could just get the phone out and open to be traced. Perhaps he could try it... all he needed to do was let the phone fall out. So as discreetly as possible, Wesley began to try rubbing his coat against the side of the frame he was tied to. Muffling a shout of glee behind the duct tape he could feel the phone shimmying this way and that. Not that Eden will believe any of this. Either way I'm getting my ass chewed out royally for this, the detective carried his thoughts on in his head as he continued to try and move, feeling the phone moving up towards the pocket opening. Finally, there was a soft thud as it tumbled out to the floor.

Lillian smirked, pleased to see the detective had been silenced. "Well... at least these humans have some useful things," she said, her way of complimenting William on his resourcefullness. Suddenly, along with those nearest to her, she tensed and slowly her bright red painted lips parted into a sick smile. [I]"Aaahh just in time. He's coming soon to start," she said. And with that she began to go around the chamber lighting candles. Lillian stopped beside Wesley, looking down at the floor and back up at him. The human man glared daggers at her, and she chuckled, kicking the phone away with the toe of her heeled shoe. "You won't be needing that anymore darling, not where you're going," she cooed. If she hadn't been too busy taunting Wesley though, perhaps she would have noticed she completed his objective as the phone flipped open as it slid away from her kick.[/COLOR]

As she dialed yet again, her heart almost stopped as the phone didn't ring the allotted times. She swallowed, not daring to talk before he did, and with the subsequent weird interference she heard, the clanks and thumps, she decided it was a good thing. The phone had fallen, and she could hear foreign voices in the background, none Wesley's. The fact that the phone had been opened, however, lifted her spirits, making her discard the idea of his death immediately. Rapidly she braked, parking her motorcycle in the closest corner. While keeping the call going, she dialed the number for the station, making sure the idiots in the technical area were doing their work. "You better be tracking the call right now, or I'm going to cut it off," was her oh, so sweet greeting to the poor man who got her call. "Do you have the address?"

˜*˜*˜

William, much more adapted to human technology than Lillian, did notice the flying phone and its glow as it answered the call. Of course, he didn't think he was actually receiving a call, who would be that lucky, right? He did, however, make his way towards it as he finished lighting his end of the circle. As he got closer to it, the screen was already dark, but nonetheless he picked it up. "You know, I've been meaning to get one of these... humans use them to comunicate, you know? Much more convenient than mail or the like..." His eyes soon shifted towards someone he was quite glad to see. "Elder, we have him as you commanded. Lil did a great job, as usual."

Wesley narrowed his blue eyes, for once real frustration with a mix of fear was beginning to show through his features. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage when the other group member picked up his phone. Even behind the duct tape gag he managed to breath a small gasp of relief as the continuing darkness told him that whoever had been on the other end concluded their call before the man was able to answer it. Who was on the other end? Eden? Please let her stay away from this... let the baboons at the precinct handle it and come get me, his inner monologue argued with himself.

There was something in the tone of which his two socialable captors were pleased with the new arrival that made him stop his wonderings, stop his struggling. Through the ambient light the candles cast in the room, Wesley was able to discern a taller figure break away from the parting circle and make it's way toward him. So great was his curiousity of this group, this individual that commanded such obedience from these people that they were believing whatever bullhonky he told them to agree to kidnapping and murdering, that the detective was barely aware of his two handlers stripping away his shirt. Until he saw the dagger slide from a robed arm, gripped by pale, flaking dead fingers. Thankful Wesley was for that strip of duct tape, as he shouted feeling a prick of a dagger's point start tracing lines through his skin.

After receiving an address from the idiots at work, who always said they were on their way but never got to where they were needed as fast as they should, Eden programmed her phone GPS as she got on her motorcycle once more, her helmet already secured and one hand on the wheel. In less than 30 seconds, she was speeding off, her siren blaring behind her, going over 100 miles faster than the allowed speedlimit, making turns and maneuvers many have died trying.

"Turn right" the voice in her helmet told her, just as she was passing the intersection. With fists tightly holding the motorcycle's handles, she got into the sidewalk and cut through traffic. Fortunately enough, the streets were clean enough at the moment, and no pedestrians seemed to want to be caught in her wait. "Your destination is coming into view in 100 meters... 60... 30... You have reached your destination."

Eden hadn't only reached her destination, she'd crashed into it, breaking down some glass windows in an abandoned, or seemingly abandoned house. Her Motorcycle had hit the ground hard, but she'd jumped down from it fast enough to avoid any significant injury. As she got up, sense of surprise ruined, her hand immediately went to her gun, although no one seemed to be in the vicinity. She'd certainly be feeling this in the morning, but that certainly didn't matter right now: all that mattered was Wesley.

*˜*˜*

Raising his gaze to the ceiling and the ratchet coming from above, William couldn't help but hissing. "Always more trouble than you're worth, aren't you..." he said, his golden eyes narrowing, suspecting company. "Now how exactly did they..." A sudden realization hit him, breaking the cell phone with his bare hands. "You know, next time we have to eliminate all technology from them, Lillian, or we'll have more of them on our hands. Probably the kind that shoots." His voice seemed casual enough, but those who knew him could tell the annoyance in his voice. "Shall I take care of it?"

Wesley's eyes lit up, despite his squirming in discomfort as this.. Elder as they called him, made his chest burn with the craving of designs into his skin. A suddent clamour upstairs was drowning out the mumbling of gibberish he was chanting in a voice barely above a library voice. He just knew down deep it was Eden, or the whole force, hell the entire Army hopefully had just barraged into the building to rescue him in the knick of time. Despite the duct tape holding his mouth shut, the man began his best to scream, muffled as they were and attempt to kick his bound feet.

"Allright you go upstairs and deal with whoever is crashing our party. I'll stay down here and help our guest calm down," Lillian sneered, her fangs glistening in the dimly lit room as she took her place beside their leader. Grapping hold of a handful of Wesley's hair she spun her fingers into the strands, pulling tightly to use pain as a leverage to keep the human still. William's ongoing talk was grating her nerves just a tad. "I'm sorry, I thought we were vampires. I don't think a couple of humans with guns will really be a hinderance. Besides, YOU should have checked him when we nabbed him, I don't go patting down just any man. I'm much classier than that, love," Her words were short and clipped with a small air of annoyance. Screamers were annoying because they were loud, but this sacrifice was proving to be the most difficult. She wasn't so sure about a long dead feeling of annoyance starting to spark in the pit of her stomach either. She had followed William's train of thought and came to the same conclusion with the phone, someone could probably track him via the phone, and by the sounds upstairs they had succeeded. Hissing under her breath she only hoped the Elder would go as fast as possible to finish before they were discovered; as if in response, the light of the candles dimmed slightly as the Elder began to chant louder and set the dripping dagger down.

William preferred to keep quiet and just smiled as he bowed at Lillian and Elder, taking his leave. All too calmly he made his way up the stairs, a few minions (as he called them) following him up to the ground level. He had always considered humans amusing and resourceful, but at times like this he really wished the little things weren't so much. Opening the door, his point was proven; he was knocked back a couple of steps because of the bullet that was now embedded between his eyes.

"He's a good shot, I'll give him that much..." he muttered to himself, motioning the minions to move forward. "Fast... but probably only one... this wont last long..." The minions who went before him were put out of commission. That's why he hated lesser vampires, always thought themselves invulnerable, but forget pain still exists. Fighting the throbbing headache, he went out the door once more, and this time anticipated the bullet, barely dodging it. No followup bullet was fired: of course she'd be in shock.

William took a few seconds to look over his victim. It was a woman, not a man as he'd previously thought. He also wondered how he could have missed it: that bountiful bosom was barely restrained by her leather jacket, despite the zipper's arduous attempt at keeping it there. She also wasn't particularly tall, but the high-heeled leather boots made her seem much taller than she was. She hadn't taken off her helmet, but behind it he could see wild, wavy brown hair. Wasn't this a sight.

*˜*

It didn't take too long for Eden to regain her composure. Sure, seeing someone survive a bullet to the head was unusual, but not impossible. Now she would just have to make sure he stayed dead. Shot after precise shot was avoided in one way or another, some singeing his skin or grazing him slightly, some missing him completely. "Screw this..." The gun wasn't working, so she would charge right past him. As she ran towards him, she saw him get ready to attack, but hadn't expect her to head for the stairs and not for him. Apparently, she'd given him the impression of someone who cares about winning, but had the wrong battle in mind.

"Wesley!" she shouted, gun in hand, as she descended the flight of stairs. She wanted them to come at her, to make the battle easier, the targets easier to land. How she hoped the idiots at work got here soon, or neither of them would make it.