Their boots crunched on the ash like brittle bones. Holly tried to suppress a sob, but it escaped into the cold, crisp morning. Isabelle felt uncharacteristically sympathetic, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders, something she wouldn't have minded herself. The remains of the Hotel Dumont lay scattered around, littered with gruesome ash sculptures of vampires, their faces contorted into horrific expressions, conveying their dying agony to all the world. Bridgitte- what was left of her- lay in a mangled heap in the centre of the ruin. She was, to put it lightly, very much dead. Holly collapsed on the ground with a heart rending moan, burying her head in her hands and weeping. Isabelle stood over her, as though she was protecting her from all the world.

'Um...' Alec's quiet voice cut through the brittle silence. Isabelle and Crystal glared at him, as if to say, upset her any more and you're dead. Alec gulped.

'Well...she wouldn't have felt much pain. Her blood would have boiled, yes, and her eyeballs would have been slowly scorched, but it wouldn't have lasted more than, say, half an hour? And she wouldn't have been able to scream, as her lungs would be slowly compressing, but- ouch! Jace, why did you just elbow me?'

Jace rolled his eyes and dragged him forcefully away from the scene of devastation, not much caring if Alec stumbled with the speed they were going. His protests faded away with the wind, and all that was left was Crystal, hovering behind Isabelle, who was still standing like a guardian angel over Holly's quaking form. Her long black hair whipped around her face, obscuring her expression. She might have well as been a cyborg. Adjusting her weapons belt, she walked slowly away, leaving Holly with Crystal.

The girl in question dropped down next to her comrade, putting a comforting arm round her. Holly leaned in close, and together they stood stalwart against the world.

......................................................................................................................................................

The bald man put a hand to his ear, waiting for the crackling to cease. When it did, he whispered, "Maureen? Shall I proceed?"

He smiled at the answer he received, took a dagger from his belt, and began to polish it.

A muffled profanity sounded next to his ear, and without hesitation, the man slapped the person that had made it. Blonde hair flew as its owner's head jerked to the side. Jace was silent after that.

Alec turned his icy eyes on their captor, and even the dimmest person on earth could see the murder that was in them. No one slapped his brother.

No one.