"While seeking revenge, dig two graves."

- Douglas Horton

                                                                             ***

Theron looked up, the mildly irritated expression on his face almost comical. It might have made Sirius laugh if he wasn't so focused on the idea of tearing the demon's throat out. 

He stared at Sirius for a long, long moment.

Sirius could hear his breath in his ears. He walked forward slowly, savoring as the color drained from Theron's face incrementally with every precise step. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, and he allowed it to grow, clicking his fangs together.

The demon eased back into his chair, eyes riveted on Sirius'. He blinked once, and they flashed to liquid black, obliterating the white and iris.

"I told you," Sirius said softly, sinking his claws into the wood of the desk. They gouged deep scoremarks into the glossy surface as he prowled toward the demon. "I told you. You owe me blood, Theron. For every drop of hers you spilled."

Theron was still watching the claws carving lines in his desk. He sat perfectly still, fear spiraling into the air with every breath he managed. There was only one sweeter scent in all the worlds.

Rick stood silently before the door, sword half-raised. His eyes were narrowed, but he didn't say anything. He simply let Sirius enjoy the moment.

"Say something," Sirius drawled, finally pulling his claws free of the wood.

"It was Hades," Theron immediately said. "It was his idea to slaughter her family. His idea to send you."

"His idea to tear her to pieces?" Sirius offered, the ever-fraying leash on his temper slipping a little more.

Theron simply nodded, his hand drifting off the edge of the desk. The silence was broken by the darkness chittering, begging for the demon's blood. A single strand of it twined up Sirius' arm to nuzzle at his jaw, and Theron went dead white. He swallowed hard, eyes flicking between the Hunter and the Hellhound.

"We can make a deal," he croaked.

Sirius laughed low in the back of his throat. "Ah..." he grinned, throwing a look toward Rick who still appeared on edge. "I think we're a little past that." The darkness hissed. Sirius amended, "We're way past that."

"I was just following—"

"Enough!" Sirius snarled. "Enough. I don't give a damn. It was your scent in that alley, Theron. It was you who set her up. You made her bleed. You made her scream." 

He took in a ragged breath, bloodlust making his mouth taste like copper. His fingers trembled, razor-edged claws making a small clicking sound—aching to gut Theron like a fish. Clenching his teeth, he snarled, "You're the one who chose Bane's crew, out of all the fucking Hellhounds you could have used."

Theron's eyes once again flicked toward Rick. Or the door behind him.

Rick's eyes narrowed. "He's expecting someone. You wanna wind this up?"

"Yeah," Sirius breathed. "Yeah. I'm done. I need this to be done."

"Wait!" Theron hissed as Sirius took another step forward. "Wait."

"Oh, I've done my waiting. So has she."

"She's not here," Theron said, desperation plain in his voice. "She's not up here. You won't find her without me."

Sirius just snorted, and the demon once again looked at Rick and the door he was in front of. A fragile mix of hope and despair gleamed in the demon's eyes.

Now, the darkness demanded. We want his blood now.

So did Sirius.

Theron's face went curiously blank, his gaze sliding one last time to the door of his office. Sirius' claws lengthened, his pupils flaring wide as his fangs stabbed into his lower lip. A flash of silver was the only warning he got as Theron lunged from his chair. Sirius threw himself backwards, barely avoiding being disemboweled by a wickedly curved knife. 

Rick swore, but Sirius snarled, "Stay out of it."

This kill belonged to only two people. And since Galloway wasn't here, that left it for him.

Theron laughed, raising that ugly knife again. Runes that hurt Sirius' mind to read sparkled on the darkened metal. He wouldn't be healing any time soon if he was wounded by that. His heart rate picked up, adrenaline fizzing through his veins. He staggered his feet slightly, holding light tension in his muscles—ready to move but not jumpy. 

"I'm going to kill you," Sirius told him quietly. "I'm gonna send you to the Empty."

"No." Theron's eyes went back to normal. "You're not. Because if you do, you'll never find her."

He was done talking. It was starting to bore him.

Sirius grabbed the edge of the desk and heaved, toppling the heavy piece of furniture sideways and into the demon. Theron snarled as he was knocked into the wall, but Sirius was already launching himself over the top of the desk.

He crashed into the demon, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the knife as they slammed into the floor. A fist flailed into the side of his jaw, but Sirius had all the advantage.

Theron didn't get his hands dirty. Sirius had spent his life swimming in blood. The demon had others fight his fights. Hellhounds were bred to do nothing but kill.

Sirius' claws dug into the demon's arm, shredding the tendons. Theron's fingers couldn't hold the knife and it clattered to the floor.

There was a still moment, as Sirius stared down into the demon's eyes and found fear there. But... alongside the fear, relief. 

Theron grinned, the expression maniacal. "I don't have her. He took her years ago."

Sirius bared his teeth, wondering how long it had been for Galloway down here. Nausea twisted his gut as he realized what the demon was saying, and he made the mistake of shaking his head.

"He thought something a little more creative than being torn into little bloody chunks every day would break her." Theron laughed. "Last time I saw her, I'm pleased to say he was right."  

"Liar," he hissed. "You're a liar. Hades can't take human Souls any more." His chest heaved with all the rage and ugliness that had been building inside him, magnified by every second he'd spent without her. 

So much pain. So much pain because of one wretched being.

It wasn't fair.

"Why would I lie?" the demon choked out.

Sirius snarled and slammed his hand against Theron's cheek, tearing the demon's head to the side. Theron sucked in a startled breath as claws dug into his jaw and his body bucked up once, trying to unseat Sirius.

His fangs sank into the demon's throat without any hesitation, cutting through tendon and muscle. Blood, rotted and sulfuric, flooded his mouth and gushed down his throat. Theron screamed, thrashing beneath him as Sirius bit down harder before jerking his head to the side in one brutal movement.

Blood from the severed carotid sprayed into his face as he spit a chunk of flesh from his mouth. More blood slid from his fangs, dripping onto Theron's astonished face, gaping up at the Hellhound as he bled out.

It wasn't enough.

It wasn't half of what he deserved. It wasn't half of what Sirius or Galloway deserved. The unfairness of it physically hurt. Theron's life force flooded away in a tide of ruby red, eyes going dull—a simple, easy death. 

An utter outrage.

He'd died screaming, like Sirius had wanted... he just hadn't screamed enough. He should have taken years to die. Sirius should have been able to spend years killing him.

The darkness fell on his blood like a ravenous cloud, purring as it brushed up against Sirius. The black marks around his wrists shimmered, then dripped from his skin like wet ink, leaving the skin beneath them clean and unmarked.

That was it?

Sirius shook his head, eyes burning as he stared down at the empty vessel. No. That couldn't be it. He wouldn't allow it to be. Not after everything Theron had put them through from the moment they'd met.

A quiet step made Sirius look up to find Rick staring at him, his face pale and grim. He opened his mouth, but Sirius turned away.

He wasn't finished here.

Carefully, and with precision, he brought his claws up to the demon's neck. His teeth had taken a sizeable chunk of flesh from the throat, but it was going to take a few moments to get through the rest.

The first cut made Rick take a step back, the second had him swearing and making a beeline for the door. Sirius didn't care as he sliced through muscle, taking his time as he made his way to the spinal cord.

Soon his fingers were caked in blood. He tilted Theron's head to the side and worked a claw between two of the vertebrae. He cut through the spinal cord and the connective tissue, then tilted his head to the other side. Briefly he imagined how much more satisfying this would have been if the demon had still been alive.

"For fuck's sake," Rick muttered. "Are you done yet?"

Sirius eyed the remaining strands of connective tissue holding Theron's head to his body. Then he nodded slightly, grabbed Theron's head and tore it away with a sickening pop as threads of skin and tendon snapped away.

A small smile led to a laugh as he held the head by its pale blond hair. Theron stared back at him, eyes blank, mouth gaping stupidly. Blood was sticky on Sirius' face and slick between his fingers.

"Please don't tell me that's for her," Rick asked quietly as Sirius' eyes fell on the jacket the demon had been wearing.

He placed the head on the upset desk, a slow trickle of ruby-bright blood snaking its way across the wood to drip slowly to the floor. The darkness was still hissing with delight as it fed on Theron's blood, and muttered reproachfully at Sirius as he lifted the body to strip the demon's suit jacket away.

"She didn't get to kill him like she should have," Sirius explained as he wrapped the head up, knotting the sleeves with care. "She should get to see that he's dead. She should see that I kept my promise."

On some level he knew it was macabre. Maybe it would anger her. Maybe it would make her look at him with fear or disgust. But deep down, he knew it would bring relief. Seeing without a doubt that her tormentor was dead would bring relief. 

She had said she wanted to feel Theron's blood on her hands, and he would be damned again if he couldn't give her that satisfaction.

Rick opened his mouth—possibly to argue—but snapped it shut at the dark look he earned for it. This was non-negotiable. While it wasn't exactly Theron's head on a pike, it was close enough. There was no rest for the wicked, not even after death. Sirius hadn't been able to take his time killing the bastard, but he could do this.

He slung the head in its makeshift bag over his shoulder, the light weight thumping against his back as he moved toward the door.

"You've got blood all over your face," Rick said, not moving out of the way. Sirius only raised an eyebrow. The Hunter sighed, shaking his head. "Little conspicuous, don't you think?"

Maybe it was. But he'd promised himself he'd bathe in Theron's blood, and this was as close as he'd been able to get. It wasn't coming off until they were out of Hell.

With a shrug, he said, "No, not really."

Rick blinked once, then grimaced as he seemed to take that statement at face value. He turned on his heel and went to open the door, then stopped and glanced at Sirius.

"It's empty," he assured the Hunter, shifting from one foot to the other.

Almost there. Almost there. Almost with her.

"Then let's see if we can find Caleb and Rhys," Rick murmured, opening the door with agonizing slowness. "And get the fuck out of here."

Sirius followed him into the hall, turning to the left. Theron's office was on the same level as many of the torture cells, and the smell of Soul blood was thick in the air in that direction. 

They began walking, Rick throwing suspicious glances at Sirius every few seconds. Sirius didn't bother to provoke him into speaking. The Hunter would ask him when he asked him, and not a moment before.

In the meantime, he allowed himself to actually listen to the screams for only the second time since they had arrived in Hell. Allowed himself to smell the blood and the pain. If he'd let himself do that earlier—if he'd caught her scent—he wouldn't have been able to stop himself. 

Theron would have been forgotten. His revenge would have been forgotten. His debt and his promise pushed to the wayside.

He glanced down at his wrist, the pale skin foreign and empty now that his deal with the darkness was done. Flexing his fingers, he watched the tendons move beneath the skin, wondering if Caleb had noticed the absence of the markings yet.

The darkness had yet to rejoin them, likely still gorging itself on Theron's blood.

"He'd said she wasn't here," Rick muttered, breaking Sirius from his reverie.

He didn't reply for a long moment, turning down another dark corridor. With a shake of his head, he whispered, "And you suddenly believe a demon because..?"

"Because there was no reason for him to lie," Rick reasoned. "He was dead. He knew it. Why would he lie?"

"Because demons like to screw with your head?" Sirius looked over his shoulder as a scream erupted from behind one of the closed doors they had just passed.

Memories were becoming more insistent at the edges of his mind. Memories that morphed into insidious imaginings where it was Galloway on the table instead of himself.

His steps quickened of their own accord. Maybe they would get lucky and catch Caleb and Rhys before they made it to Purgatory. Maybe he'd see her sooner than he'd thought. Maybe... maybe he could be the one picking her up off that table.

A brief moment of hope was all he allowed himself. That's all he could afford.

"Why wasn't it harder?" Rick asked, keeping pace with Sirius, who was now almost running through the dreary hall. 

"Why does everything have to be a knock-down, drag-out with you people?" Sirius responded, inhaling deeply through his nose, combing through scent after scent, agitation growing with every moment he didn't come across the one he wanted.

Rick snorted. "That's not how we design it, Fido. That's just how it works."

"Then... it's because Theron's an arrogant prick?" Sirius offered. "He didn't actually believe I'd get to Hell or..." A thrill of unease prickled through his veins as he remembered what Theron had said. What Persephone had hinted.

Hades had been working with Theron. 

"Or what?" Rick prompted, and it hit Sirius like a baseball bat to the head.

Sun-baked grass. And cinnamon. Silver. Wood smoke and apples and gasoline.

It was faint. So very faint. But it was all it took.

He went sprinting down the halls, flying by door after door, not heeding Rick's shout from behind. The sound of pursuing footsteps echoed around him, but he couldn't find it in him to care if the Hunter could keep up or not.

He skidded around corners, pelting madly down the halls, Theron's head tucked under his arm like a football. Every ragged gulp of air shoved her scent down his throat, filled his lungs, drove him out of his mind.

Closer. Closer.

He barreled down a flight of stairs, touching maybe three steps total. The smell of her was thick in the air down here, making him whine. He zeroed in on the only door at the end of the hall and lengthened his stride even more, intent on just crashing through it.

There was a light step behind him, and a brutal force plowed into his back, slamming him down into the floor. Theron's head flew from his grasp and thumped a few feet down the hall as Sirius rolled, growling viciously.

A hand fisted in his hair and a blade at his throat kept him from snapping at Rick and tearing into his face. The Hunter was breathing hard, gunmetal eyes flashing with gold and fury.

"Just what..." he panted, "the fuck... do you think you're doing, Sirius?"

"She's there," he rasped, struggling to get away from the Hunter without hurting him. "Just there. Past that fucking door!"

Rick's arms tightened around him, and Sirius snarled. They rolled across the floor, Rick swearing at him, trying to get him to stop and think.

What was there to think about?

"Stop," Rick hissed. "Stop. Just stop and think. You really think she's the only thing waiting behind that door?"

"I don't... care!" Sirius' claws shrieked against the stone floor as he fought to get closer to the door. "I'll kill them. Every last one."

"That's not—fuck!" Rick yelped as Sirius drove an elbow into the side of his ribcage, his hold loosening just enough for Sirius to break free.

He scrambled to his feet and lunged for the door, flinging it open. Bright light blasted off crisp white tile, momentarily blinding him. 

Blinking hard, he looked toward the middle of the room and froze. Rick, still swearing, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He snarled something into Sirius' ear, but a low laugh made him trail off, his hold on Sirius loosening.

"Well goddamn," a familiar voice said. "You look like shit, brother." Sitting cross-legged on the table, Bane was watching him, a grim little smile dancing around his mouth. 

Ice bloomed along his veins.

The Hellhound looked much the same as Sirius remembered: dark brown hair, jade green eyes, pretty face marred by four parallel scars Sirius had put there himself centuries ago.

Bane pursed his lips as Sirius glanced around the room once again.

"I think this is what you're looking for." Bane lifted a scrap of cloth soaked in blood. The other Hellhound finally stood, looking down on them from his vantage point.

Sirius touched his tongue to his upper lip, mouth dry as the Mojave. "Wh-where..." He closed his eyes for a moment, then growled viciously. "Where is she, Bane?"

He leapt lightly to the ground, rising slowly from a crouch. Tilting his head, he lifted the rag to his nose and inhaled deeply, eyes never leaving Sirius'. 

Fingers twitching, Sirius curled his lip, flashing his fangs at the other Hellhound.

"I almost get it, Sirius," Bane said softly, stuffing the rag into the pocket of his jeans. "A scent like that." His eyes flicked up, a smug little smirk tugging at his mouth. "Not to mention that ass."

Sirius went to take a step forward, a growl rattling in his throat, but Rick's hand on his arm stopped him.

Bane's grin grew. Shaking his head mockingly, he said, "You always were a sucker for a pretty face, Siri. And your girl might be a raging bitch, but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't face that fury for a taste."

Sirius snarled a nearly indecipherable warning that made Bane bristle.

Eyes flashing and teeth lengthening, Bane snarled, "You're not alpha anymore, Sirius. In fact, you aren't shit. I can say whatever I want about your whore."

"Quit while you're behind, Bay," a soft voice called, making every muscle in Sirius' body lock up tight. "Haven't I warned you about saying such rude things?"

"You like when I say such things," Bane said, turning suddenly docile. "Master."

Hades appeared between one blink and another, standing just to the left of Bane. "How nice of you to join us, Sirius."

A power he was all too familiar with grabbed hold of him. Sirius blinked twice, lips parting slightly as something he'd shoved way beneath the surface came back up and snapped into shards of devastation.

Hades flicked a finger down and Sirius' knees slammed into the floor, his head bowing. He didn't bother fighting. There was no point. He just raised his eyes, gaze flicking between Hades and Bane, who still had that insufferable smirk on his face.

Obedient little prick.

"Stop," the god ordered, his dark eyes staring over Sirius toward Rick. "You move, and his essence will be ripped out of his body and fed to the darkness."

Sirius could feel Rick hesitating just behind him. There was a small shuffling sound, and Hades closed his fingers into a loose fist. Red hot claws gripped Sirius' insides and yanked him forward. A cry of pain escaped him, his hands colliding with the floor, claws scraping tile.

"Okay, okay, okay," Rick hissed. "Not moving. Nobody's moving."

The claws digging into his core released and he pushed himself back upright, but the force keeping him on his knees remained. Hades flicked is finger again and Sirius' head bowed, making him growl. Bane laughed quietly.

"I always did like you on your knees," Hades mused.

Instinct forced him to at least attempt raising his head, making pain lance down the column of his spine. Snarling, he said, "So did your wife."

Sirius barely managed to turn his head and avoid a broken nose as Hades slammed him down into the floor, the tile cracking around him. Ripples of power moved through the room as the god walked forward.

"Put that away, boy, before someone gets hurt."

"Why?" Rick responded. "Am I making you nervous?"

Hades chuckled, then sighed. "Oh, you Hunters. All the same."

Sirius' lips peeled away from his fangs as Hades crouched down next to him. He reached forward and brushed the hair out of Sirius' eyes, fingers lingering over the ridge of his eyebrow. 

Tilting his head, the god smirked. "Fascinating creatures, these Hunters of yours. A bunch of snarling sarcasm wrapped tight around a core of repressed emotion fueled by rage, coffee and alcohol."

Fear burst to life in his chest as he considered how Hades would know that. The god, like he knew what Sirius was thinking, gave him a private, terrifying smile and winked before fisting his hand in the collar of Sirius' shirt.

He was jerked to his feet, collar cutting momentarily into his windpipe before Hades let him go. The god smirked, then walked a tight circle around Sirius, stopping just behind him. He flinched hard when Hades rested his hands on his shoulders, the god's cold breath brushing against Sirius' ear.

Sirius stared straight ahead, his breath fluttered rapidly in his throat.

"Don't worry, Siri," Hades whispered in his ear. "I'm going to take you to your darling Hunter girl."