"The whole point of life is learning to live with the consequences of the bad decisions we've made."

-Sherrilyn Kenyon

                                                                                             ***

Eventually, he had to turn off the water. It was too cold. It made his bones ache.

Water dripped from the tips of his fingers as he stepped out and dried off. Carefully, he met the gaze of his reflection, and flinched back from the condemnation and hatred he found. You should have been there, it seemed to say. She was your responsibility and you failed, like you always fail.

Sirius had always been up for a good round of self-pity, but self-loathing was a little new to him. He dragged the towel down over his head, drying his hair. Looking down, he realized with a frown that the only clothes he had to his name were the ones currently stiff with her blood.

He was pretty sure he couldn't wear those. Blood seemed to bother humans.

Briefly, he considered walking back out stark naked, just to see what the Hunter would do. Then, he sighed, wrapping the damp towel around his waist. He couldn't afford to antagonize him too much. Looking down at his chest, he found a bead of black blood carving a slow trail down to his stomach. It had been closing up, but the cuts had reopened in several places during his insane run.

When he'd tried, and failed, to get to her.

Sirius shook his head hard, wiping his hand over the blood, making it smear on his skin. He turned toward the mirror, looking at the jagged marks of the five-pointed star. Experimentally, he poked at one of the raw edges, hissing when a bolt of pain lanced through him. Then he cocked his head, eyes glued to the angry purplish edges.

His chest rising and falling slowly, he traced a finger over the shape, not touching it. Already sensing the desire buried deep down in him, his claws extended, shiny and black.

Looking up, he caught the gaze of his reflection again. A mark like that didn't belong on something like him.

He snarled and dragged his claws across the shape, obliterating it. He did it again, and again until there was nothing but a bloody mess of mangled flesh left. His breath was rapid now, his teeth gritted as he bowed forward slightly, bracing his hands on the side of the sink. Blood poured down over the off-white surface.

He stoppered the drain, then stirred his fingers in the rapidly deepening pool. His left hand was shaking, the fingers jumping and twitching as the pain from his own claws seemed to race like fire up and down his arm. But at least that was a manageable pain.

It had been a long time since he'd done this. He hadn't needed to after Theron had bargained with Hades to give him the ability to create mind links.

Caleb was in the other room. He could hear his heart beating, the pace furious. Sirius would need to be quiet.

He stirred the blood around once more, then painted the demon's name onto the mirror with his fingers. Whispering, he muttered the words, tongue a little clumsy over the Atlantean. It was an old spell. Quickly, he swiped his hand across the mirror, leaving nothing but a midnight smear on the glass.

The blood in the sink started to swirl and bubble on its own.

He looked into the mirror, watching the blood there on the mirror slide and crawl its way over the rest of the glass. His breath hitched. Slowly, slowly an image began to flicker, like a black flame in a dark room.

Fingers clenching the sides of the sink, he willed it to grow clearer. The pool in the sink started to recede. He only had until the blood ran out. A tingling sensation ran through his chest and the bleeding he'd caused stopped. This wasn't a spell designed for long, drawn out calls. It only required its share of blood, and would take no more than that.

Idly, he thought that he should bleed longer. The price of atonement had long been blood. Then he shook his head. There was no atonement. Not for him.

Theron's office filtered into view, along with the demon behind his desk. Sirius blew out a breath of what could have been either relief or disappointment. Some part of him had been wishing that Theron was with Galloway. The other part flinched away from that, understanding that if Theron was around her, it would be to hurt her. 

Even he couldn't think that the relief of seeing her would be worth that.

The image resolved and Sirius glared at the demon, who sighed and looked up. He had fingernail marks down the side of his face. Sirius could guess who'd done that.

Theron set down the piece of paper he'd been looking at and crossed his arms, leaning onto the desk. "May I help you?"

Sirius snarled, his fangs extending rapidly. His muscles twitched, fur agitating the underside of his skin. A slender strand of darkness reached toward him hopefully, willing him to shift, wanting him to get lost. He shook the sensation away. His voice a low growl, he said, "I came to offer you something, actually."

"No," Theron said simply.

"What?" Sirius blinked, not having expected that. Usually Theron would at least hear a proposal. His entire existence revolved around making deals, after all.

Theron sighed and stood up to walk around his desk. "I said, 'no'. You've nothing to offer, mutt. You did your job. You got her here."

Sirius' breath gasped out like he'd just been hit in the chest with a jackhammer. Theron smiled, then winced as it pulled at the angry red scratches on his cheek. Sirius said, "I'm not leaving her there. You're not keeping her."

Now it was Theron's turn to say, "What?"

With a feral grin, he said, "I'm not leaving her. And you owe me blood, Theron. Every drop of hers you spilled that night. A blood debt is a dangerous thing." Sirius laughed, the sound wild. "I know the ancient entrances, Theron. Hell welcomes me. I'm a native, unlike you. And I don't need to contend with gates or spells. I'm free to come and go as I please."

He laughed again, rocking forward a little. He hoped he looked as crazy as he felt. Theron was watching him with a blank, stiff expression. Sirius let out a contented breath, and said, "I'm coming to get her. And we'll see you dead before this ends."

Theron snorted, then let out a dry laugh of his own. Sirius couldn't keep his smile from flickering. He knew that laugh. That was the laugh he'd heard every time he thought they couldn't find new heights of agony, and then they did. It was the laugh he usually heard before everything went dark.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the sink. The enamel cracked under his fingers, revealing the metal beneath it. He couldn't stop a small snarl even as his knees buckled, and Theron smiled more fully.

Eyes flashing liquid black, the demon sneered, and said, "Then you'd better hurry. And don't be surprised when she turns on you instead of me."

That sent ice careening through his veins again. He snarled and slammed his fist into the mirror, making cracks spiderweb across the glass. The blood-offering was nearly spent anyway. Theron's laugh distorted and echoed around him, taunting words of what he was doing to her sharp as the broken edges he'd created.

Sirius roared and slammed his fist into the mirror one more time, slicing the skin on his knuckles clean away. But he didn't care as the glass shattered completely, silencing the demon, shards raining down to the floor and into the stained sink. A small cry of agony escaped him and he collapsed to his knees, head in his hands. 

There was a thud on the door, and Caleb demanded, "What are you doing in there, mutt?" When Sirius didn't answer, there was another thud, then he said, "Open the door, Fido. Now."

Sirius couldn't move. Caleb swore, then suddenly the door exploded inward, missing him by a hairsbreadth. The Hunter landed heavily on his leading leg. He'd kicked the door open, but stopped dead, looking around in horror at the mess he found.

His hands trembled, claws gone now. Quietly, he said, "Theron knows."

Caleb shook his head, then crouched down in front of him. "Knows what? What the fuck were you doing in here? Why'd you break the mirror?" He looked up. "And the sink?"

"Sink was an accident," Sirius muttered, swaying back and forth a little. His vision was dimming around the edges. Swallowing hard, he said, "I broke the mirror to break the connection."

"Connection?" Caleb asked blankly. "What are you... wait a second."

Bile rose in his throat, and he leaned toward the shower, retching into the tub. Caleb swore and gagged. Sirius spit away the sour green-yellow substance. He sat back upright, and the Hunter stared down at him. Taking in the remnants of the pool of blood, the closed drain and the broken mirror, he asked, "Who were you talking to?"

The suspicion in his voice was palpable. He wondered how the Hunter knew what he'd been doing. Stupidly, he said, "You know what this is?"

"I know blood spell-work when I see it. You said you had to break a connection. Who were you talking to?"

Sirius shuddered, and gasped out, "Theron."

Caleb stood stock still, then he dropped into a crouch in front of Sirius again. He had a knife in his hands this time though. Sirius watched, entranced as the Hunter lightly tossed the knife back and forth, the scent of silver burning his nose. The light that randomly sparked off the edge of the blade caught at his vision painfully. He inhaled more deeply.

More slowly, like he knew Sirius wasn't firing on all cylinders here, he said, "And why were you doing that?"

Sirius closed his eyes, and rasped, "He..." He took in a rattling breath. "He's the one that took her. I told him. That we were coming to get her."

His eyes flew open to look at the Hunter, who startled and nearly fell over when Sirius stood up. Caleb shot up to his feet. Teeth gritted, he was pale with fury when he said, "You did what?"

"It doesn't matter," Sirius said brusquely, walking out into the main room. He frowned when he found a t-shirt and a pair of jeans on the bed nearest the bathroom. He pointed at them and Caleb, who was glaring at something past his head, nodded, expression sour.

Jerking the clothes on, scowling when the jeans were too long, he said, "We need another mirror."

"Why? So you can break more shit?" Caleb demanded, looking at him now that he had clothes on. "Look man, I get it. I really do. But that's not really going to do anything."

Sirius went back into the bathroom and stamped into his boots. Spinning around, feeling a little manic, he said, "I said it. I said it and we have to finish it, otherwise it'll be untrue, and it's not just something someone like me can go around saying."

"What in the holy hell are you yammering about?" Caleb grabbed Sirius by the elbow and yanked him to a stop. He snarled and raised a clawed hand, then threw his arm out to the side, towards the door.

"Don't make me break your fingers," he warned. "We have to hurry. I need a mirror. Go find one."

"Tell me why and I'll get you a mirror."

Anxiety swarmed through him like wasps, stinging everything it touched. He went back into the bathroom, Caleb following him closely. He un-stoppered the sink and started to scrub his blood away. It couldn't be tainted.

Almost tripping over his explanation, he said, "I told Theron he owes me a blood debt. That he owes me for every drop of blood he spilled when he killed her. That's a serious thing."

He flinched a little, scowling at the stupid name Arawn had suggested and he'd foolishly taken. When he was satisfied that his own tainted blood had been washed away, he snatched up his ruined clothes from the floor. Her scent hit him and he faltered. Apples and woodsmoke and iron. 

Slow down, she whispered, you've already made yourself sick.

Shaking it off, he started to rinse the cloth out, using as little water as possible. Red began to dribble into the sink, turning soupy and thick as he ran the thin stream over the thickest stains.

Caleb opened his mouth, a scowl still pulling his eyebrows together. Sirius beat him to it, explaining, "Blood's a powerful substance. That's why it's required in almost all major spells... but for something like me to claim a blood debt... That's not some stupid human curse of revenge. That's an oath that will be echoed across the dimensions, especially since I said it through a mirror. There are certain entities that will be expecting that blood I claimed he owes me. And you do not want those entities to come looking. So we have to finish."

"Whoa, whoa," Caleb said, holding up his hands, palms toward Sirius. "What do you mean entities? You mean like...?"

"Could be a god, could be something a little more elemental..." The darkness tittered at him, already hissing, demanding he finish it. He knew at least one thing that would claim its share of blood. "Anything that happened to be listening for just those few seconds. Now they're hungry for the blood-binding. That's why I need a mirror, unless you want a bunch of supernatural crazy with a taste for human flesh dropping in on us?"

"Got it," Caleb said, and Sirius was surprised when he actually ran out of the bathroom, not even bothering to close the main door behind him. Blood continued to collect in the sink. His mouth was dry. He'd never done this before.

Caleb came skidding back into the bathroom, a large, ornate mirror under his arm. He put it down on the bed, face up, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. With a shrug, he said, "I remembered staring at this stupid thing when I was checking in."

Sirius didn't care. He said, "Keep wringing the blood out. I'm not sure how much we'll need."

Looking a little pale at the prospect, the Hunter nodded shakily before taking the blood-soaked shirt from Sirius. Taking a deep breath, he dabbed his fingers into her blood, then started drawing on the mirror, the darkness whispering to him what he needed to do.

He hoped it was telling the truth. 

It had been a stupid thing to say. But he'd been so angry. All he'd wanted was for Theron to feel one iota of the fear she must be feeling now. He'd wanted to make it something permanent, something the demon couldn't just shrug off.

More importantly, perhaps, he'd wanted to make it something he could never go back on.

The geometric pattern was drawn across the mirror; Sirius thought it might be Sumerian. Possibly Mesopotamian. Whatever it was, it was much older than even he was. And that age lent it a power that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

The darkness fed him the proper words, edging up around the mirror. His eyes flickered over when Caleb swore lightly, but the Hunter didn't do anything to stop him.

Sirius hesitated over the final words. If he finished this, he'd be inextricably bound. If he didn't, he could possibly be eaten.

With a sharp exhale, he said the last words clearly. A sensation like electricity rippled gently over his skin and his eyes went wide as he realized his mistake. "Caleb! Leave!"

The Hunter didn't move. Sirius couldn't. Darkness formed a cloud on the ceiling. In complete synchronization they tipped their heads back to look at it. His heart was hammering in his chest. He could hear Caleb's doing the same.

Spears of black light wrapped around his wrists, then Caleb's. They were yanked to the ground, on their knees as a column of black formed between them. The black light forming shackles around his wrists wrapped around the column, trying to pull him forward. Sirius resisted, his muscles straining so hard he could feel the tendons in his shoulders stretching. Across the room, on the other side of the column, Caleb was doing the same.

There was a popping sound and Caleb cried out, his right shoulder dislocating. Sirius gritted his teeth, his eyes slitting as a vicious, burning wind wrapped around them, scorching his skin.

His wrists were being burned, seared, the skin feeling like it was melting away.

The sharp sound of breaking glass forced him to look up. The burning around his wrists reached a crescendo, making both of them scream hoarsely.

There was one last blast of burning wind, and it all disappeared. Sirius fell forward, shaking, his eyelids fluttering and fingers twitching. His breath rasped in and out unsteadily, interspersed by small gasping sounds as he tried to swim out of the pain. He tried to move. He couldn't.

Slowly, control returned to him. He curled his fingers once into the carpet, then placed his palms flat on the ground next to his shoulders. With a ragged moan, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, then slumped against the side of the bed. His eyes wanted to shut. He was having a hard time dragging in a full breath.

His gaze slid sideways to find the Hunter still laying on the floor. Sirius could hear him breathing, though his pulse was inconsistent.

Sirius had not been expecting that.

It was a full hour before the Hunter pushed himself up into a sitting position. The whites of his eyes were bright red where the blood vessels had burst, and the remnants of a nose bleed showed around his mouth, blood stuck to the right side of his face.

He was shaking, and had a hard time bringing his hand up to wipe at his face. There was blood trickling from his ear when he turned his head to look down at his hands. More specifically, to look at the marks branded into his wrists, forming a complicated pattern of pitch black, darker than any tattoo. It looked like he was wearing bracelets. Gold glimmered in between the lines forming the ancient runes, winking and disappearing with no discernible pattern.

His voice nothing but a rough whisper, he asked, "What did you do?"

"I..." Sirius paused and coughed as his throat seized, rebelling. "I didn't know it would affect you, too. Not until it happened. I thought it would just bind me, since I was the one who said it."

He looked down at his own wrists to find the branded oath on his skin. The pattern started just under the creases in his wrist, and were only about half an inch wide. No gold glimmered in the lines on his wrists, and he wondered why.

"Did you... Does this mean—"

"I bound you, too. The spell will hold you to what I said." Sirius thought about getting up, but his body made it quite clear that he wasn't going anywhere right now. The side of his mouth twitched as he looked again at the Hunter. It wasn't an outcome he had expected, but it might hold more benefits than he could see right now.

"What you said?" the Hunter asked flatly. "Look, I'm not really up on my freaky-ass spellwork. So you're going to have to get out the whiteboard here."

Sirius wondered if there was a reason why all Hunters seemed to speak in the same way. Same colloquial little phrases and snarky attitude. There was no way they were all from the same place. Yet, despite the fact that he was from West Virginia and she was from New York, Caleb still resembled her enough as far as mannerisms went that it made Sirius uncomfortable.

Not to mention the jagged spike that twisted into him with every little reminder of her. 

His lips felt dry and cracked. He wanted some water, but not badly enough to get up. Blinking slowly, he said, "I claimed a blood debt—"

"Yeah, no. I got that. But what was all that that just happened?" He sat up straighter, clutching his shoulder. "What was that with the cloud and the weird light and these?"

He lifted his right hand, grimacing as he showed Sirius his own bindings again. Sirius swallowed in an effort to relieve his parched, swollen-feeling throat. He said, "These are bindings. You've been bound to darkness, swearing that you'll do whatever it takes to spill every last drop of Theron's blood. Like I said, I didn't realize that spell happened to bind everyone within a five foot radius. If I had, I would have made you leave."

Cale had paled drastically at Sirius' words, making the blood stark red against his skin. "I'm what?"

Sirius forced himself to his feet, his knees wobbling as he stepped over the Hunter and turned the sink on. He ducked his head under the water, trying to clear his mind, then drank directly from the tap, grimacing at the metallic tang of the water.

Not really feeling any better, he went back into the main room and pulled the Hunter to his feet, letting him drop onto the mattress. Caleb let out a strangled curse, then glared at him. Sirius gestured to his shoulder and he nodded reluctantly, sitting up straight. Obviously the Hunter had done this a few times.

Grabbing just above the inside of the Hunter's elbow and around his wrist, which made him flinch, he smiled slightly and said, "It's easier if you relax."

"Shut up," Caleb growled, making Sirius smirk.

His movements maybe a little too fast, he jerked the Hunter's wrist out, keeping his elbow stationary and tucked into his side. Caleb grimaced, his teeth baring in a soundless snarl as his eyes squeezed shut. Sirius watched as the bone snapped back into place with a nasty sounding thud.

Caleb swore viciously and used his good arm to shove Sirius away. He cradled his arm to his stomach, taking deep breaths. Sirius deadpanned, "I told you it was easier if you relaxed."

"Fuck you," Caleb gritted out. After another moment passed, he straightened up, inhaling deeply through his nose. He tried to move his arm, but judging by the way his face whitened again, his shoulder wasn't having any of it. "Damn it," he muttered, then looked at Sirius.

"It's going to have to heal up a little before I can do anything like catching a demon," he admitted, looking displeased by the admittance.

Sirius tried to quell his irritation, reminding himself that the Hunter was nothing more than a human. In other words, he was easily broken and difficult to repair. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he sat on the other bed after moving the now cracked mirror to the small table near the door.

He rubbed at his wrists, the skin feeling raw and chaffed though it appeared to be uninjured. They looked too similar to shackles for Sirius to be truly at ease with them. He didn't like the way they looked, but he was certain about how he felt concerning what they stood for. 

It was something tangible. Something she would be able to see when he found her. Proof that he had put everything on the line for her.

Then, his stomach dropped as he looked at the nearly identical markings around the Hunter's wrists.

I'm afraid that if something happens, the fact that I'm all that matters to you will override the fact that I couldn't let them get hurt.

Her words from what felt like an eternity ago caught him by the throat and crushed down, wanting to kill him. His breath came a little faster as he stared at the black marks on the Hunter. Vaguely, he could hear the Hunter talking to him, but he couldn't actually make out any words over the buzzing in his ears.

The one thing she'd wanted, gone, because of him.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch to the side, and he looked up to find the Hunter scowling at him. Unkindly, he said, "Are you gonna do this a lot? 'Cause if you're gonna randomly fly over the cuckoo's nest, I'm not hunting jack-shit with you, much less a demon."

Sirius inhaled sharply. At least the darkness had gone after the spell. It wasn't there to pick apart his thoughts and whisper insidious, terrible, true things to him. Things were a little easier when it was only his mind trying to kill him. Shaking his head, he said, "Those markings, they're basically a contract. You know how those work, right?"

Now it was Caleb's turn to flinch and he walked toward the door. Throwing clothes and stuff into a bag, he stiffly said, "Yeah. What's this one?"

"It won't cost you your Soul," he said. He couldn't help but taunt the Hunter a little. Watching him flinch was somehow very satisfying. Caleb turned back to him, dark eyes remote and cold, mouth a thin line of anger.

Standing up as well, Sirius said, "It won't cost you anything if you see it through. Except, maybe a little blood."

Caleb didn't say anything, just stared once more at the markings on his wrist. Then, he hefted his bag over his good shoulder, his right hand held awkwardly to his body. Not bothering to look at the Hellhound, he opened the door and stalked out toward his truck.

Sirius rubbed at the brand on his right wrist. He was still sick at the thought that she'd been gone all of three days, and he'd already screwed up, doing the one thing she said he couldn't do. The one thing she said she wouldn't stand for.

What was worse, though, than that vaguely sick feeling, was that he didn't feel actual guilt about it. He was just afraid she would be irreparably angry with him.

He sighed and followed the Hunter. 

At least he had a guarantee that Caleb would see this through until the end.