CHAPTER TWO

BY LARA WINNER

Slowly Duo approached the altar, his eyes transfixed on the ornate wooden crucifix, as his footsteps echoed through the silent Cathedral. He passed rows of empty pews feeling a vague uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach.

Something was wrong.

Before his eyes Sylvia's body materialized on the altar and he bit back a startled cry. Her toned flesh was kissed with shadows in the soft candlelight. Duo blinked his eyes as he swore he saw her chest move. Shaking his head he took hesitant steps closer, making the sign of the cross as he set foot on the altar. With a life of its own, Sylvia's corpse began to move and she jerked upright, her piercing eyes landing directly on him. Their normal vibrant depths were covered with a gray film, flat and lifeless. Her blue tinged lips twisted in a horrible smile as blood gushed out of her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

"They're coming for you, Preacher Boy," she laughed. "Your God won't save you!"

Duo clasped his hands over his ears trying to block out Sylvia's screeching voice, squeezing his eyes shut to make the sickening vision go away. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. But the feel of gentle hands placing themselves on his shoulders seemed real enough. Jerking away from the touch, he spun around to identify this new horror only to find himself face to face with... Ms. Schbeiker?

Sylvia's decomposing corpse had vanished. Now beside the empty altar table stood the young CSI agent he had met earlier that night. Looking at her once again he was assailed with a sense of deja vu. There was something about this woman that made him feel anxious, almost nervous. As a result he mumbled, completely without thinking, "I know you, I've met you somewhere before."

She smiled, not indicating she had heard him or was even going to grace him with a response. Instead she cocked her head to the side and assessed him with a measuring look. "Don't you remember?"

"No." He found himself saying.

"I can show you." She replied softly, grasping his hand and holding it in a light grip. Her touch, like a charge of electricity running through his body, pulled him away from his surroundings immersing them both in a bright white haze. The very cathedral faded within the intensity of the light. It kept getting brighter and brighter until finally, he had to close his eyes from the glare.

Without warning the memories assaulted him, playing before his eyes in brief flashes.

...She was laughing, her blue eyes sparkling, as she blocked the blow of his sword. Her golden shield gleamed in the sunlight as she attacked aggressively determined to win their sparring match...

...A wreath of freshly picked daisies crowned her dark hair and her pale yellow gown seemed to cling to her soft curves. He pulled her closer, gently running his fingers over the soft downy feathers of her wing making her shiver. With an impish smile she kissed him, and then giggled at his wide-eyed statement...

...Her scream ripped through the air. He tried to go to her but strong, capable hands held him back, forcing him to watch as she fell to the floor covered in her own blood. Tears of shameful anger filled his eyes as he conceded that he failed her when she needed him the most...

Caught amidst painful emotions Duo tried to force the haunting images away. He opened his eyes finding himself surrounded by a wall of fire. He could feel the heat searing his skin. The fire roared in his ears. From within in the flames emerged a figure, one that struck recognition and fear in his heart. The creature towered over Duo, its beady red eyes glowing with unholy light as he spread his black wings in a threatening gesture. Akmen, General over hell's vast army...

"Traitor!" The demon leader snarled. The rumble of his voice made the ground shake. Before Duo could respond, the creature vanished and the wall of fire closed in, the flames lapping eagerly at his flesh.

Duo screamed...

The sound of his own terrified voice woke Duo from the hellish nightmare. His eyes darted around the simple bedroom, childishly looking for any monsters hiding in the deep shadows. Feeling a little absurd, a nervous laugh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes once again and dragged in a deep calming breath.

There were no monsters or demons lurking here in St. Catherine's rectory. There were no speaking corpses or unnerving police officers either. Still, he couldn't stop the erratic pounding of his heart.

Sitting up in the bed, the tangled white sheet pooled around his narrow waist. He shivered as the chilled night air flowed against his already cold, clammy skin. Blindly he reached behind him and groped around under his pillow pulling out a small chain of prayer beads. The dark red glass beads reflected the meager moonlight filtering in through the window. Not really thinking, out of habit he let the beads slide through his fingers, taking comfort from the unintentional action.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blesses is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for our sins, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." He said the words softly, using them to keep the dream away. "Hail holy queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Hear us oh advocate, turn thy most gracious eyes of mercy towards us, and here in our exile show unto us-"

"They're coming for you preacher boy. Your God won't save you!"

Sylvia's voice echoed through his head, shattering the fragile calm that had settled over him. He clenched his fists tightly feeling the rosary's crucifix biting into the flesh of his palm. Was this dream a threat or a warning of things to come? He shuddered. It was so real, he could even smell the cheap perfume Sylvia always wore and her voice made his skin crawl. He should have expected the nightmares, but it had been years since death cast its vile touch on those in his life. The poor child didn't deserve to die, no matter how dark her sins. Was there something she was trying to tell him in the dream? And what did it have to do with Agent Schbeiker?

He frowned and throwing the covers off his boxer clad body, he strode to the window turning his troubled gaze over the dark lawn. That woman was... something else. She had absolutely no respect for being in the Lord's house and to have the audacity to swear, using the

Lord's name. He shook his head. He couldn't figure her out. He'd watched her all night, unable to tear his eyes away from her sleek form. There was something about her that was so strikingly familiar but he couldn't seem to put his finger on it. She was a beautiful young lady, with her dark hair, creamy skin and stunning blue eyes. But he was certain he'd never met her before, if he had he would have remembered. Agent Schbeiker wasn't someone you could easily forget.

Or replace...

The stray thought made him stiffen, his frown deepening. This was crazy. He had never met the woman before in his life. Now he had met her, say, a year ago, he would have made sure to take the opportunity to know her better. The slightest smile curved his lips as he leaned against the window frame. He had never thought he'd end up studying at the seminary to become a priest. It wasn't what he'd envisioned when he was a kid. But fate had a funny way of pulling the rug from under him and when it landed him here it just seemed like the logical option. It was as if a force was calling him, pulling him to St, Catherine's. Every available chance he had away from the seminary he returned to the Cathedral. This place was the closest thing he had to a home, after living most of his life on the streets; it was something special to know he was still welcome here.

Looking back at the bed, Duo sighed knowing he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. Slipping on his clothes, he quietly left his room and made his way outside the large building. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he idly walked the grounds needing to relieve some of the tension inside him. Too much had happened in one night. Things wouldn't be the same without Sylvia around. She was a sweet kid with a good heart; she’d just gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd. He had tried to get her off the streets. Countless times they had talked about checking her into to University hospital and getting her in a rehab program. If she could get the drugs out of her system then she could focus on getting her life on track. He had wanted to help her, to stop her from making same the mistakes he had. He was too late.

Gritting his teeth at the anger that filled him, he turned his eyes up to the sky. Why was it that God put his children through this? He had tried to keep his faith. Even now, in the face of everything he had seen in his life, he tried to believe that God loved everyone; that God could forgive everyone. Yet he still had to question. Maybe he shouldn't be a priest.

Assailed by his doubts and lost in his thoughts, Duo looked away from the sky and froze mid-step. At the end of the building, secure in a brick alcove, was the statue of an angel. The sculptor seemed to have breathed life into his creation. Her wings were folded gracefully at her sides, as she stood tall, looking ahead with a gentle smile curving her full lips. In her clasped hands she held a sword, the blade pointing to the ground. It was not as if Duo had never seen the statue before, in fact, he was quite fond of it. What made him pause was the memory that filled his mind at the sight of it…

"I'm impressed with your skill."

At his words she looked up from where she was kneeling, a small smile curving her lips. Her ebony hair ruffled in the breeze and her golden armor shined in the sunlight as she stood, slowly making her way toward him. He wasn't sure what compelled him to say something so

foolish. They were standing amidst a battlefield. Mortal soldiers, nameless faces, littered the ground, their blood staining the dirt.

"These people never had a chance. I thought I could help." She replied sadly. Despite her relaxed statement she approached him cautiously, her wings trembling in the anticipation of flight should he try and attack her.

Again he felt his admiration rise. "You interfered without orders, why bother?"

"Why are you here?"

Her simple question made him smile. She was a clever little angel so he answered her honestly. "I love a good fight, it gets the blood flowing."

She fought a smile at his intended pun. "That wasn't very nice."

"I didn't start this war. I just helped finish it." He sighed, placing the blood stained blade of his sword back in its sheath...

Duo blinked, quickly turning his eyes away from the statue. These hallucinations were not memories. Ms. Schbeiker was not an angel and he was not a demon. The idea was completely absurd. He was tired. Seeing the statue made him remember more of the nightmare. That was all it was.

Instead of feeling better all Duo could hear was Sylvia's voice whispering...

"They're coming for you."

**********

"Are you sure it's safe here?"

At his whisper, Trowa looked up, silently observing the blond haired boy that slid in the booth across from him. The cheap red leather of the seats made sounds of protest as he moved and his pale skin was even whiter in comparison to his dark sweater and black jeans. Trowa quirked a curious brow as he noticed the wet state of his companion's clothes. Worried blue eyes met his and he sighed. "Yes, I'm sure Quatre," then he smiled. "I wasn't aware that it was raining."

"The rain suits me," Quatre sighed, looking down at the table and drummed his fingers nervously. "I feel like someone is watching us." He shivered as he looked around the small bar. "We don't have much time and I don't relish the thought of getting caught."

"What's the worst that could happen? We're condemned to spend eternity as mortals." Trowa chuckled.

"The High Council may pity us but Akmen will dismember us and have our limbs spread to the farthest corners of Hell as a warning. If you're so foolishly quick to loose your head my friend, then be my guest, but you must pardon me if I have a little more care and caution for what is going on." Quatre snapped in frustration.

Refusing to let himself dwell on the fear he kept at bay, Trowa smiled serenely, "Relax. This war is shaping up nicely. At least we are finally seeing who our enemies are. No one can stay neutral; I think it's more interesting that way."

When Quatre merely glared, Trowa leaned back in his seat and glanced around the smoke filled bar once more. The place was small; the smell of cigarettes and cheap alcohol filled his nostrils as he breathed deeply. Leave it to mortals to develop any imaginable pleasure.

Lighting a cigarette, he put it to his lips and breathed in purposely ignoring Quatre's horrified statement. He then motioned for the waitress.

"What'll it be, boys?" The young woman asked with a slight accent.

With a seductive grin, Trowa looked up at the flamboyant blond haired girl and purred, "Bring a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass of water for my friend." The young girl nodded and started turn away. As an afterthought he gripped her wrist, making her look at him in surprised as he winked, "Maybe you could come back over when you have a chance and we can get a proper introduction."

Blushing furiously, the waitress giggled and headed to the bar for their drinks. Taking another drag of his cigarette Trowa met Quatre's glare with his angelic smile. "What?"

"When did you start smoking?" When Trowa shrugged, Quatre's face turned a pale shade of red in his anger. His blue eyes flashed, fire sparkling in their depths. "I don't agree to meet you on earth so you can partake in every vice known to the mortal race."

"You are absolutely right. You came here because we need to discuss the current situations in heaven and hell. What I do when I'm beyond the realm of heaven is my business and what you do when you're beyond the realm of hell is yours," Trowa stated dispassionately. "I've never once told you how to exist Quatre."

Trowa said nothing as the other boy looked away, having the grace to look apologetic. A demon with grace? Quatre was certainly one of a kind. Trowa had to smile at the irony as he watched Quatre look around the room and then blush as his gaze landed on a couple engaged

in a searing kiss. Quatre should have been an angel. He was not meant for the depths of hell. That was part of the reason Trowa felt the need to watch his back, well, that and the fact that Quatre was the only true friend he had.

"I'm sorry Trowa," he said after a moment. "Nice place, come here often?"

"No, but I thought it would serve our purpose if we met here." Even as he said the words Trowa could see the doubtful statement on Quatre's face. He felt the need to clarify. "This is only the third time I've been here."

Just then the waitress returned, placing the bottle of whiskey before Trowa and the glass of water before Quatre. Trowa waited until the girl had left, walking away a safe distance before putting out his cigarette and leaning closer to Quatre whispering, "Gabriel is sending Relena to take care of the "problem". Everyone knows her reputation. She's the best and she's loyal to Gabriel. Unless we can come up with some way to stall her or prevent her, she will get the job done."

Quatre's eyes narrowed and his anger flared once again as he hissed, "Those two souls have been apart too long. It's time that heaven and hell unite. I won't let Gabriel and his council get in the way."

"Unless you a have a plan-"

"I have better than that." Quatre grinned, his smile showing true malice. "I have the perfect reinforcement. I'll send Heero."

Trowa paled. "No! You cannot trust him Quatre. Akmen chose Heero to be his second when Duo was cast from hell. I've seen Heero in battle; he is skilled, cunning, and even a fair opponent for Michael. That has to tell you something. Heero is cold-blooded and ruthless. He will kill her and I will not stand for that."

Trowa bristled as Quatre leveled him with a patient almost condescending smile. "Heero will not harm Relena, of that I can promise you."

"How can you be so certain?" Trowa muttered, not favoring the idea in the least.

"Heero has joined our cause for his own reasons. Besides, Duo was like a brother to him and he as not forgotten what Akmen did. Trust me on this." Quatre pleaded earnestly. When Trowa reluctantly nodded he continued. "I will send him to guard both mortals. He will make sure no harm comes to them, not from Gabriel or anyone else."

Opening the bottle of liquid heaven, Trowa leaned back in his seat and took a swig, feeling the burning whiskey course down his throat. He offered the bottle to Quatre, surprised when the other boy accepted. But before Trowa could warn him, he took a huge gulp of the amber liquid, and then nearly keeled over in his seat as the fiery alcohol made its way down his chest. Trowa tried not to smile as Quatre downed his entire glass of water and then tried to catch his breath.

He scrubbed his eyes, which were teary and red. "You sadistic bastard!" Quatre growled giving Trowa's shin a good hard kick.

"Fuck!" Trowa hissed, the smile wiped from his face. Turning in his seat he pulled his leg up to his chest rubbing the offending spot. "Damn you!" Then smiling spitefully, he laughed. "Oops, I forgot. You can't damn the damned."

"Very funny." Quatre choked. "Everything I'm doing to help you and this is what I get. You know I could leave you high and dry right now, take everything I know with me, and since you're not taking any of this seriously I'm tempted to-"

Trowa held up a hand and interrupted Quatre mid-rant. "Is there another threat that I'm not aware of?"

"If you would give me a freakin' chance I will tell you!" The blond cherub-faced demon snapped. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard and then continued. "I think Dorothy is up to something." He wheezed, gingerly rubbing his throat.

"When isn't she?"

"No, this time I think it's really serious." Quatre whispered. When Trowa sat up straighter he sighed, "So far it's just speculation, rumors that I've heard but," he looked down for a moment then continued, "things are happening that suggest the High Council isn't the only one who wants those mortals dead. I think Dorothy is somehow involved."

"What do you know?" Trowa growled softly. He propped his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands massaging his temples. The fact that Dorothy would try and meddle in the current unstable affairs of both realms didn't come as a surprise.

"We've been watching over those two mortals since they were born. Their paths were set to cross in this life but not like this. Someone is forcing the situation and the effect could ruin everything. Just look at Duo: he is a demon at heart; his soul cannot be saved. Yet now, after tasting hell on earth, where does he finally end up? A church, of all places. A demon cannot hear the voice of God." Quatre sighed, "God did not call him to his faith and neither did Lucifer. You do the math."

Trowa's emerald eyes narrowed with fury as the implications of Quatre's words became clear. Taking another swallow of whiskey he let the bottle slam down on the wooden tabletop. "Goddamn it! I should have known she'd try to stop us. What could she possibly have to gain from this? Doesn't she realize that we will win this war?"

"Will we?" Quatre questioned softly. "It seems we can't trust anyone these days. If Gabriel knew that you were a leader of the Unified Legions he would have you thrown from heaven so fast your halo would spin. Things are no better in hell. Akmen has never trusted me or granted me with his favor. I am under constant scrutiny. If I make one wrong move Dorothy and others like her will be waiting to lap my blood of off Akmen's hands. And as for what my beloved sister has to gain..." he paused, his lips twisting in a bitter smile, "that I don't know but the bitch will do just about anything to spread misery. Dorothy is who she is. She has no heart. She is a true child of hell."

Trowa silently agreed with Quatre. Dorothy had made a reputation for herself that was quite impressive. He'd seen her fight; she would take her place in human battles and slaughter any men, women and children that came within the reach of her sword. He'd even heard of her corrupting men of the cloth with her lithe body, having sexual relations on church altars, even going as far as to encourage Satanists to perform human sacrifices using children. The list of horrors went on and he refused to think of them all. She made him sick. Her love of carnage drove her to bloody her hands time and again but Dorothy never did anything without bettering herself some way in the process.

Looking at Quatre's troubled blue eyes, he had the sickening feeling he already knew what she was after. For the last three thousand years heaven and hell had both been ripping at the seams. Little by little the foundations of both realms crumbled from the anarchy and bloodshed that ravaged the souls of angels and demons alike. Even now the battle lines were being drawn, brothers turning on each other because of the closed-minded control of the Elders. Yet not everyone wanted this war for the better of the races. It was no secret that certain angels and demons wanted both realms to fall in order to create a New World on earth were every entity was a God. There would be no better time than now, while both heaven and hell are in such precarious positions, to plan an uprising that would destroy everything. And they would be fools not to see that Dorothy would be at the heart of it.

Dorothy would be stopped. No matter what the cost there was no way the High Council or the Unified Legions would stand for the creation of another hell that would consume the mortal realm.

Determination glittered in his green eyes as the thought made Trowa smile slightly. "We have a vast army of angels and demons ready to make this happen at our command. Even the High Council would side with us to wipe out this threat. I think we can deter whatever Dorothy and her little hobgoblins come up with."

"I hope you're right Trowa." Quatre laughed softly. "I'd hate to think all our efforts have been for nothing." Taking a quick glance around the bar once more, Quatre stood. "I must be going. Watch your back my friend."

Trowa nodded, lifting his bottle of whiskey in salute. "Same goes for you." He saw Quatre's soft smile before the boy turned and shoving his hands in his pockets made his way through the small establishment.

Frowning, Trowa twirled the bottle of whiskey between his hands. Quatre was right. They had invested their entire existence in making this war a reality. Trowa knew his dear friend found the prospect of battle just as distasteful as he did but it was necessary. Demons and angels can live in peace. It was proven when the angel Hilde gave the demon Duo a heart. However, there was no other choice but to use force to prove what should be evident to everyone. Shaking his head, Trowa sighed. Why did things have to be so damn difficult?

The soft rustle of clothing penetrated his thoughts, making him look up into a familiar pair of gray eyes. The subtle sent of her perfume made all thoughts of war and catastrophic doom pause and then disappear all together.

"You said you wanted a proper introduction. I thought your friend would never leave."

The smile curved his lips before he could stop it. The waitress rested her hip on the edge of the table, the seductive pose giving him a delicious view of her shapely thighs. He felt his blood roar through his veins. He couldn't help it; he had a weakness for women, especially mortal women. It was hereditary; his father had the same problem.

Giving the young blond his most charming grin, he laughed. "Why don't you sit and make yourself comfortable?" Gently he grasped her hand tugging her to sit beside him. She complied, her warm body sliding up next to his. He felt his body respond, the alcohol making all his worries disappear as she enticingly rubbed her leg against his. "My name is Trowa, nice to meet you."

"My name is Midii." She whispered softly. "Nice to meet you too."