The illusion of aged humanity wavered, the man known as "Carlo Giovanni"  nodding in apparent farewell as his form continued to shift, becoming that of
a cloak of infinite shadows, wings of raven-black unfurling from his robed back to spread wide at his shoulders. "But I offer you this 'advantage' only once -for I am Abbadon, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, and I must ultimately accept to my bosom any who are forced to relinquish their tenuous hold on this existence...even you, Napoleon." With that, the entity known also as the Angel of Death faded completely from sight, disappearing like morning mist.

Napoleon crossed himself as he remained standing there, mouth wide open in disbelief. All at once, the doors to the pathology department were finally forced open, hitting the walls with a splintering bang. Illya reached the still-stunned human first, hands flying over his body in a fast, intense search. "Were you bitten!" he demanded at last.

"N-no..." came the shaky response.

"Scratched!"

"No -I...what-"

"Was your skin pierced in any way!"

"I said *no*!" Napoleon snapped, waking from his confounded stupor. He brushed away the frantically searching hands almost angrily -what *was* the
matter with his partner? It was then that he recognized the poorly hidden anguish in the small vampire's eyes and understood the reason for it. Regardless of the fact that his bondmate had been ready to sacrifice him rather than to submit to the unholy demands of the Lilim, he had not been willing -and had the first knight of UNCLE been possessed by any of the bloodthirsty brood, it would have been his bondmate's heartbreaking duty...to kill him.

As any knight of the order would have done.

**Illya...** Crystal blue eyes met Napoleon's. **I was afraid too. Forgive me for not understanding what this would have meant for you?**

Illya returned the look. **I do not know what you mean.**

**Please..?** The sending was all the more pleading.

A small, conciliatory smile twitched the corner of the blonde vampire's tightly pressed lips and a seemingly careless gesture of a hand brushed away the red-stained moisture that had begun to gather in the corner of one eye. **I suppose if I must.** With an effort, a mask of professional calm descended over the pale countenance as Illya became aware of his ancient prince's silent scrutiny. Valentine said nothing, but his expression, all too full of understanding, said that they would talk later. "This was far too close," Illya said at last. "This stronghold is no longer inviolate -no doubt, your kinsman gave the Lilim free ingress as part of his pact with
them."

"Indeed," Sir Alexander concurred. The old man resheathed the blades he had worn since his days as a novitiate. "If the old legends hold true, the building will have to be resanctified, every entrance anointed sacramental oils, if we are to avoid being absorbed to the legions of the undead."

"*If* that is their real purpose, Alexander." Valentine narrowed to slits of red as he studied the foul-smelling mounds that surrounded them. "For the grim conveyor of souls himself to interfere even this once, greater forces must be at work than a clumsy cadre of animated corpses. They... their 'Great One'...wants something." He glanced back at his beloved heir and his bondmate. "Or someone. We must find out -now." The ancient vampire stood up straight and kicked one particular mound with the silver-tipped toe of his boot, sending blackened ash flying...revealing that one "victim" as yet remained intact. Not dead, but certainly not exactly "alive". "It would seem that Abbadon has allowed us a gift. *Up*, adopted child of Lilith! You have things to tell us."

Sanguine-hued eyes snapped open, blinking against light and ash, and then rolled in open dismay. "Aw...crap," Kowalski muttered sourly. "Couldn't ya just just kill me?"

Napoleon smirked mirthlessly in Illya's direction and produced a silver dollar. "Want to flip over who gets to make him talk?"