I expect post-sex awkwardness, but Damien moves right past it and doesn't look back. 

Something's changed between us, though, and despite my determination to keep feelings out of it, little glimmers of happiness keep sparking in my chest whenever he touches me or looks my way.

And it pisses me off.

Damien's the last guy I want to fall for. He's a pushy, dangerous asshole, and he's got more baggage than the cargo deck of a 747.

He's also a patient, thoughtful, and attentive lover. Not to mention hot as fuck.

I know he only cares about me because of the Key, but when he laughs at the stupid things I say, or explores my body with pleasure and admiration, I can almost convince myself he's seeing Alex Shade, and not just a shade of someone else.

His dreams change, too, and for the first time since I met him, he has a nightmare that isn't based on a memory. I know, because I'm in it.

In the dream, I watch myself through his eyes as I walk towards an enormous stone arch. I call to myself to stop and come back, but I don't listen. There's a blinding light, and I'm gone. For a dream not from memory, his pain is surprisingly intense.

After the fourth time I wake up with a tear-stained pillow, I ask him about it.

"It's a Doorway," he tells me, tiredly. "You're seeing yourself open it with the Key."

"But...where do I go?" I ask.

He gives me a look. "Heavenly Keys are destroyed when they're used to open a Door. That's why Sakariel knew he would die whether the rebellion succeeded or not. If he'd managed to open a Door, he'd have been consumed by it."

"Oh."

I guess that explained why he was so tragic all the time.

"Well, stop worrying about it," I say. "Even if I could, I don't plan on opening any doors."

~xxx~

Later that morning, I discover I have other reasons to worry, and they're a lot closer at hand.

Allannan summons Damien to see her, and I go along because no one says not to. When we enter her study, she looks grim.

"Allannan, has something happened?" Damien asks.

She looks between him and me, and for a moment I wonder if she's going to ask me to leave, but then she speaks. 

"Last night, someone attempted to break into the residential wing of the estate. They got away, but they left this behind."

She lifts a small cloth bag from her desk and tosses it to Damien. He catches it and looks through it. His expression grows sour.

"Poison, blades, rope--an assassin, then."

Allannan nods.

"He also had this." She hands him a small scrap of paper. 

He frowns and shows it to me, and I recognize a crude map of the building. Our room is marked in red. 

"It seems he was after either you or Alex. But the most disturbing thing is what my guard managed to snatch from around his neck."

She holds out a pendant on a string. Damien goes still.

"What is it?" I ask. It looks like an X in a circle.

"The cross of the Vanguard," Damien says. "Oran's elite crew."

He stands. "I will discover what is behind this, Allannan. I apologize if we've brought trouble to your house."

She shakes her head. "I'm not worried about my house, Damien. I'm worried about those within its walls."

~xxx~

Damien barely speaks as we cross the city to Oran's headquarters. He marches up the steps and storms through the doors, directly into what appears to be a meeting of some sort. Around a dozen people are gathered at a long table, and Oran sits at its head.

"Damien! What a surprise," Oran says, rising to greet us. The others rise as well. "And...Alex, wasn't it? What brings you to my humble home?"

Damien's voice is cold when he replies. "I'm here because two attempts have been made on Alex's life. Can you explain why an assassin would be wearing the sign of the Vanguard?"

Oran doesn't answer for a moment, but his face loses the false cheerfulness and falls into a well-worn expression of steely gravity.

"Well, it seems the time for subtlety is passed. Yes, the assassins were mine. I would have done things more directly, but you seem...attached. Besides, after nearly a century as Azael's prisoner, I don't know how much I can trust you. Especially when you won't even use your real name anymore."

Damien is obviously furious, and as I watch a pale, lean blade of blue fire forms in his hand. "I suggest you explain yourself, Oran. Quickly."

The others in the room move to draw their own weapons, but Oran stills them with a wave of his hand.

"The war isn't over, Damien, and the stakes are higher than ever. I'm only doing what I must."

He nods towards some of the others and they move behind us, blocking our retreat.

"What are you talking about?" Damien snaps. "Of course the war is over. The Key was destroyed, and our forces broken and scattered. You can't hope to reignite rebellion at this point."

Oran shakes his head. "Do you really think our side was the only one with an agenda? Azael has his own plans, and they are long in the making."

He moves around the end of the table and comes towards us. "Tell me, Damien, why do you think he did what he did to Sakariel?"

I hear Damien's breath catch. "To punish him. To destroy him," he whispers.

Oran sneers. "Punish, yes. Destroy, no. If he truly wanted him destroyed, he would have used a Sephiroth blade. He wanted him broken, ruined, shattered beyond repair. He wanted the pieces, and this...abomination...is the result." He gestures at me.

"I don't understand," I say, trying not to sound like I'm freaking out. "Why would he need a broken Key? Why not just use Sakariel as he was?"

It's Damien who answers me, sounding stunned. "Because Heavenly Keys only open higher realms."

"You always were bright," Oran nods at him. "That's right. The Door Azael wants to open doesn't need a Key. It needs something dark and twisted. More of a lockpick, really."

Damien sways, and the blade of fire fades from his hand. "He wants to open the Abyss," he says.

I don't know what that means, but it sounds bad.

"Indeed," Oran confirms. "A Key would never serve. But if he could break one, mold it and twist to his purpose--that might do."

He pauses for a moment, seemingly letting Damien absorb this information.

Leaning against the table and crossing his arms, he continues. "Of course, the pieces were scattered far and wide, but Azael had time to find them. He only needed one, after all. We set out to make sure he failed. While you were trapped in Azael's domain, we were busy tracking down as many fragments as we could find and putting an end to them."

He turns his eyes towards me with a look of thoughtful disgust. "We never thought to look on Earth. But at least this piece is the last."

Damien goes pale. "What do you intend?"

Oran cocks his head. "We mean to destroy it, of course. Although there is another way. A way that might even heal Sakariel's soul, given time."

 I feel a shiver of alarm when I hear the interest in Damien's voice. "What way?" he asks.

Oran smiles. "We could burn him clean with Fire. Scour away the polluting elements--the human and demon. Only the fragment of Celestial soul will be left, purified. In time, the fragment may heal itself, and regain its whole form--your beloved restored."

"What about Alex?" Damien asks.

Oran shrugs. "He is partly Sakariel, after all. The human and demon parts of him will perish, as will his physical form, of course. But we will supply another for the fragment. One more...suitable...for a Celestial soul."

I feel like he's basically saying I'm gonna die. At least, pretty much all of me that makes me who I am.

"Damien, don't listen to him," I say. "Even if Sakariel's soul could be restored, he wouldn't be the same person you knew and loved. He's gone--you have to accept that."

"Silence, demon," Oran snaps. "You will die regardless--either burned clean by Fire or slain by sacred blade. A defiled Key cannot be allowed to exist. The choice is Dantalian's."

At the use of his old name, something changes in Damien's face. His expression is blank and cold as stone, and he doesn't look my way.

"My duty is to the Key," he says. "If it can be purified, I will see it done."

"You fucking bastard!" I back away from him. "You swore you'd protect me!" Someone at my back grabs me around the chest, and I feel a cold blade at my throat.

Damien casts me a glance, and I see something like fear in his eyes, but I also see resolve.

"Very well," says Oran. "Let it be done then."

He steps forward, but Damien holds up a hand.

"Wait," he says. "I will do it."

"Good," Oran agrees. "It is as it should be." He points to a seal engraved in the stone floor beneath our feet. "This will keep the fragment from departing. It will stay trapped within the remains of the body until a new vessel can be prepared.

Damien nods.

I glare at him as he turns towards me. Blue fire races over his body, down his arms, and gathers in his hands. I'm shaking, but I hold his gaze with steadfast fury. I can't stop him from killing me, but I don't have to make it easy on him.

The person at my back steps away, and Damien places his hands on either side of my face. The Fire doesn't burn--at least not yet--and he meets my glare with a look that's oddly soft.

"Alex," he says gently. "Close your eyes."