The Battle for Khaat Lupin

Jack's rapid fire spells found much fruition, as James was hit by two of the three. Werewolves were fleeing and Jack was staring hard and true at James, unmoving, her wand still raised in a stance of power. This was Jack in her element, protecting those she loved from those she knew would take them if they had the opportunity. She stared as events unfolded around her. As far as she cared, it was just her and Blood.

The werewolves began to leave and Jack felt anger spring into her heart, the heart that so often chose to turn towards love and honor and forgiveness because it was so against human nature to love and forgive those who did poorly, and Jack wanted to be better for her family. But now her heart was inflamed with passion, for no one was owned by another, and no one fell under another's foot the way Blood so easily claimed to put people under his own. She was not fighting for Khaat Lupin. She was fighting for the right to live and be happy.

She dropped her wand arm and her other arm lifted, pointing right at the werewolf. "You tell your master," she said, magic rising within her, creating a strange, booming affect in her voice that she had not attempted to create and could probably never do again, as it went with magic, "that he may be after his female, but now I am after him. His scent is in my snout. James Blood is mine. And I promise you I will no stop until he remains so. Go lick your wounds - I resume the hunt tomorrow."

With that she turned to look at her group. The werewolves had worked their way deeper into the labrynth, surely to find another way out. Suddenly, Jack spun around and with a slash of her wand, part of the corridor fell, putting a blockade between the werewolves and herself. She would do it to ever corridor. She would ruin each room. She did not want any werewolf dead, but all imprisoned. And might as well show them what it liked to live in a ruin.

She turned back to the people before her. "Search the rooms for any hiding werewolves to take into custody. Search for files and information. Then go home. Tend to your injuries. Sleep. Thank you all for your efforts tonight. Ms Lupin was recovered. You have done well."

Michael couldn't remember when he'd been more proud of Jack. She'd faced a fierce challenge and had passed with flying colors. Their confidence in her had not been misplaced. As much as he had wanted to shelter her, it had not been necessary.

He had issues of his own at the moment, though. The business end of Robert's wand was leveled at his heart, and Michael wasn't sure if Robert was done being angry yet. Or if the curse would let him be so.

"We're done here," Michael said quietly. "We promised her a pint. And some explanation. We need to either follow through, or let her know the offer still stands. Now--either fire on me, or lower your wand." Robert seemed to have to wrestle the curse again. It made Michael ache for him. "You're needed elsewhere now," Michael said, hoping to redirect him. He saw Robert slowly lower his wand.

Michael watched the werewolf who had taken charge of a stunned James. He wasn't sure if James was even hearing Jack's words. He apparently had been hit just a couple too many times with spells, and it was going to take a bit to wear off. Michael was hoping to secure James, not just let him go, but the werewolf who was trying to insure his safety merely looked at Jack, hearing her warning.

"Continue to come after him," the werewolf said, "and he will kill you. You've amused him so far, but his patience will wear out. And when that does, he will kill you. I don't expect that to deter you, but just so you know." He left with James.

Michael motioned to Robert and walked over to Jack.

"Well done," Michael said quietly. "Thank you. Earlier, we promised you some answers. And a pint. You let me know when you want to cash in on that."

Michael was working on slowing disarming Robert, who had now become a danger to everyone there, not just the werewolves. Jack left Michael to deal with Robert, knowing that too many people involved would only add pressure to the situation that would not bode well for anyone. Her eyes stayed trained on the retreating wolves, who had the audacity to call back, but he was soon hidden from view as her explosion caused the tunnel between them to collapse. She looked back at her group. She had given them instructions. She thought it was best if she get to it too.

As she began moving for the main part of the house, Michael caught her. Now that she was standing still, real exhaustion settled into her bones. She had not slept. She had not eaten. And the physicality as well as the magic expended (especially that unplanned magic that had enhanced her voice) had taken its toll onto her too. And besides, Jack had long grown tired to having to battle for peace. She hated oxymorons.

"Thanks," she said, glancing over at Robert as well. "I'm just glad Khaat's safe. I'd love to take you up on that soon - but I think I'd better get home to my husband first." She rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe tomorrow night - well, tonight, anyway."

"Understood," Michael said. "You know where to find me. I think my friend and I will take our leave and let the others finish up any last security details. I know we need to make sure Khaat is okay."

He looked at Robert. "You okay now?" It would have been much easier if have looked into his friend's face, but that wasn't happening with the "spook mask" that Michael so detested. The figure merely nodded at Michael. "I don't know if I want to let you out of your little box very often or not," he teased.

"I trust you'll let us know if you learn anything new about James," Michael said. "Goodnight, Jack. Or good morning. Whatever the heck it is." He motioned to Robert who laid his hand on Michael's shoulder. Michael drew out a portkey from his pocket, and they disappeared.

Jack nodded to Michael, glad to find Robert reigned in, glad to see no one was horribly hurt. She would have to check in on Henry, of course, but that would have to come later. She absentmindedly reached to her wrist where a small bracelet lie. She looked at it a minute, and then slowly rubbed it. With the promise of help, she began to think a little less lethargically, for sleep and rest would soon be on its way.

"Morning," she responded back, managing a small smile for Michael. She was grateful to have him there, for few people could rouse her from her exhaustion and passion now. She heard pops around her and she smiled as her small team, a team organized by herself, appeared around her. It consisted of those she had worked with when she had been head of the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, Teddy, Bernice, and Carny, as well as a few other friends in the business.

"These guys will take care of the rest," Jack said to those who had joined her for the battle. "Go home. Sleep. Owl me if you know of anything in regards to what happened tonight. Be prudent. Be safe. Thank you."

She turned to her group of people, immediately beginning to explain the task before them. She wanted the house looted for any valuable information and then sacked to make it unliveable. The werewolves who had been seeking shelter would no longer have reason to stay with Blood, in that case. Besides, Jack had to get home. She had to check on Henry, see a man about a gun, and take her niece to daycare. All in a day's work.

Katrina-Carlotta stepped out of the shadows, alone with the dead. The battle had been a new experience for her. Sure, the witch had been involved in fights with others in the past, but never in a united front like the battle they had just won.

The woman felt an odd combination of satisfied and uneasy. Katrina-Carlotta hadn't fought like that in far too long, and while she had been deadly, the witch was far more rusty than she would have liked. The female would have to find time to work on that. It was a peculiar feeling, knowing that she had just fought along side people, trusting them not to curse her in the back. She didn't like Jack Dyllan, and by all means should have been worried that the redhead wished to strike her down in the midst of battle. Katrina-Carlotta hadn't spared that possibility a single though until now, something that unnerved her far more than the blood staining the toe of her boot ever would.

She'd lingered silently as Tremaine and Dyllan conversed, not wanting to join the conversation. It was possible that they'd known she was there, or perhaps the two of then had been too exhausted to realize. Either way, they hadn't called attention to her, and she was glad. The European was oddly overwhelmed. All the emotions and stress that she'd been burying for months had risen to the surface. Usually this was a good thing, for the woman would channel her anger into her spells. However her life had been different, as of late, and instead of anger other emotions had risen. Victorious and covered in blood of the enemy, Katrina-Carlotta had never felt so vulnerable.

Through the walls, the dark witch could hear the voices of Jack's people. She'd told them to loot the place, and that was what they were doing. Katrina-Carlotta's own Death Eaters had already left, a nod from her moments after the end of the fighting being all the permission they had needed. Trenton had gathered up the Dark Followers, and while the assassin hadn't seen it, Katrina-Carlotta would bet that the blonde had created a Portkey to get her students back to the castle. Katrina-Carlotta would probably be getting a letter from the Trenton within the next few hours, detailing injuries and losses. Normally she would be responsible for the calculation of such things, but the dark witch hadn't been paying enough attention. It was dangerous, allowing herself to get this rusty.

Voices increasing in volume as they drew nearer, Katrina-Carlotta ran a hand through matted hair, and disappeared back into the shadows.